Gabriel and the Devil

by Robert P. Rowe

  He hadn’t seen me. Maybe it was best if I just snuck away? That’s when he looked up at me and smiled. Why would he smile at me? I hesitated. He waved at the empty seat across from him.

  I took a few steps in his direction, and he called out, “C’mon. I’ve been waiting for you, and my coffee’s getting cold.”

  Once I got close enough, I stage-whispered, “I figured you’d be tired of all of the heat by now.”

  Marcello laughed. “I never get tired of it. So, ditching class?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “That’s not like you. I showed you a little darkness so that you’d appreciate the light—not shun it.”

  Why couldn’t Father Christopher have said something like that?

  “If you call that a little bit of darkness, I’d hate to learn your idea of a lot.”

  I took the seat across from him.

  His face darkened a bit, and he dropped his eyes.

  In a bare whisper he said, “A lot was not seeing you again. A lot of darkness was the thought that you might never speak to me again.”

  Somehow this casual light encounter had just gotten heavy.

  “I didn’t think devils had any heart. I didn’t think you could be hurt.”

  “I told you that devils are angels. They’re loved by God, and they love back. Of course they can be hurt. I can be hurt. It hurt me most to think that I might have done something to hurt you. You don’t know how special you are, Gabriel.”

  “Sure I do. I’m special enough for you to try to lure me in and steal my eternal soul.”

  “I told you that I can’t steal it from you. You have to give it willingly.”

  “Then why did you get me drunk and take me to your bed?”

  “First, I never tried to get you drunk. I had no idea that you were such a….” He hesitated, searching for a word.

  “Go ahead and say it. I’m such a lightweight. I can’t even take a couple of beers.”

  He blushed red through his olive skin.

  “It wasn’t just a couple. You polished off six, and half of them were supposed to be mine.”

  Now I blushed red.

  He chuckled. “You kept asking for more sacramental wine. And once you were that bombed, I couldn’t let you go home alone. I had to bring you to my place to make sure you’d be okay.”

  He shook his head.

  “Gabriel, I keep telling you that you have to give of yourself freely. You were drunk and you were all over me. But the point is that you were drunk. I couldn’t let you do more than cuddle with me. I promise that I did not take advantage of you and I will never take advantage of you. That would be empty and hollow. Don’t you know that your eternal soul comes with your eternal love?

  “That’s why I can’t steal your eternal soul. That’s why I can’t steal your love. You have to give it freely. But first you have to learn how to love yourself.”

  “Great. I have to learn how to forgive myself before I can ask for forgiveness. I have to learn how to love myself before I can be loved. My life is just completely fucked-up.”

  My own eyes went big. Had I just said the f-word out loud? I’ve never used that word in my life. What kind of spell had Marcello put on me?

  Anyway, he didn’t bat an eye at the word.

  “Your life is not fucked-up. It hasn’t even begun. You’ve been spending too much time worrying about doing the right thing instead of doing what feels right. That’s why I’m here. If I can show you how to do what feels right, you’ll realize that you want to give me your eternal soul. You see. It’s a win-win.”

  Chapter Three

  “I DIDN’T really mean it when I told you to go to hell. You’re really a nice guy—for a devil.”

  “Gabriel, I’m not really a….” He hesitated.

  I don’t know why he was being modest. I’d expect a devil to be boastful. I gave him an incredulous look.

  He sighed. “I’m not really such a nice guy. You’re the nice guy here.” Then with more conviction he went on, “And being late for class isn’t as bad as missing it completely. Get going and I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “Where?”

  He chuckled. “Don’t worry. I always know where to find you.”

  And surely he did. I’d just about finished doing my homework in the library when Marcello showed up out of nowhere and sat quietly across from me.

  “Are you almost done?”

  Just seeing him again made all of the numbers slip out of my head. I’d finish my homework up tomorrow night. My Monday class didn’t meet again until next week. At the moment all I could think about was Marcello and his devilish grin.

  I closed my book and started packing up. “Yeah, I’m all done.”

  “Lying? Swearing? What have I done to you? My dear little altar boy is becoming a regular human being.” He dabbed at his eye and pretended to wipe a tear.

  “I didn’t lie. I’m done for now because I can’t concentrate with you sitting here.”

  He reached across the table and gently stroked the back of my hand.

  “Wow! If just sitting across from you breaks your concentration, imagine what might happen if I offered to take you out for dinner?”

  I looked up from where his dark hand had caressed my white one. I couldn’t imagine going out with him.

  “I already ate,” I told him.

  “Pizza is not dinner—it’s a snack to get your warmed up for dinner.” He stood up and gave me a hopeful look. “Come with me.”

  How’d he know I’d had pizza?

  CAJUN FOOD was not what I was expecting. Marcello told me he’d order me something mild, but I was sweating from the spicy seasonings.

  He laughed. “Can’t take the heat? You’re going to have to get over that if you want to spend more time with me.”

  I wiped my brow with my napkin.

  “You mean like eternity?”

  He chuckled and reached his hand out for mine. This time he didn’t just stroke the back. He took it and gave me a comforting squeeze.

  He looked me straight in the eyes and said, “I’d spend eternity with you if you’d let me.”

  I closed my eyes. The feeling of his strong hand in mine made me want to do just that.

  “You two palm reading?” a heavily accented female voice asked.

  I pulled my hand away quickly and looked up into the face of a smiling black woman. She didn’t seem upset by what she’d seen.

  “I give you a card reading, eh. I tell you all about da future. But I dun really need no cards to guess.”

  “Gabriel, this is Eliza. Eliza, this is my new friend, Gabriel.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “New friend? Maybe you a new victim?”

  She set down a scoop of sherbet for each of us. I really needed something to cool off my mouth. Then she pulled up a chair and started to shuffle an odd set of cards.

  “What are these?” I asked.

  “Tarot cards,” she answered as if it should have been apparent.

  “Aren’t tarot cards black magic?”

  She looked at Marcello. “Where you find dis one?”

  He shrugged.

  “No, hon. Tarot cards not magic at all. They’s only tell you what you already know.” She pushed the cards at me and said, “You mix ’em up, eh. Think of your question and the cards show da answer.”

  “How’s that not magic?” I asked.

  Marcello answered, “Because only you know what the card really means to you, Gabriel. That’s not magic, it’s intuition.” He grabbed the deck and started shuffling for himself. “I’ll go first.”

  Eliza shook her head. “I’s already know your answer before you ask da question.”

  Marcello glared at her, but he kept on shuffling before handing them back.

  Eliza spread the cards out in a very specific pattern, and once she was satisfied, she looked to Marcello.

  “Well, go ahead. Dun be shy. Pick.”

  Marcello pointed at a card.

  Eliza
smiled once she turned the card over.

  “Always dis one. Long life.”

  Marcello looked resigned to the card.

  “Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” I asked.

  “Sure a long life is good. But I’d rather have a short happy life than a long lonely one.”

  “It doesn’t say that, does it?”

  “No, no, no!” Eliza exclaimed. “Pick another one.”

  Marcello kept pointing at cards and Eliza kept turning them over and explaining the meaning. But once she’d explain, she’d ask Marcello what the card meant to him. But he didn’t offer much.

  I didn’t really understand the cards or all of the meanings, but the gist of it was that Marcello would live a long life. He’d continue on a path of spiritual awakening, and his goal was available to him so long as he took the right path. I wasn’t sure what his original question was. He’d never told me, but Eliza already seemed to know.

  “You see. No magic,” she told me. “Now you.”

  She handed me the cards to shuffle. As I shuffled I thought of my question, and just for fun, I decided not to keep it a secret. I said it out loud.

  “What did I ever do to deserve this guy popping into my life?”

  I didn’t say to deserve a devil popping into my life to lead me down the wrong path. Somehow I figured that the cards would know.

  Once Eliza had the cards displayed in the pattern she wanted, she asked me to pick.

  “Why are the cards laid out different than his were?” I asked.

  “I dun know,” she answered. “You jus mo organized I tink. Dis right fo you.”

  They all looked the same to me from the back. But one card seemed more interesting than the others.

  “Ah, long and happy life.”

  I kept pointing and she kept turning cards over and explaining them to me. But always after she’d explain it she’d ask me what I thought the card meant to me. Somehow my cards all seemed to lead me on a parallel track with Marcello. Only my goal was close at hand even if my spiritual awakening seemed uncertain. Nevertheless I was on the right track.

  Right. There was no magic in these cards. How could I be on the right track hanging out with a devil? My spiritual awakening was more than uncertain—it was lost since I’d met Marcello. I’d started to question the Church and everything I’d ever learned. She’d only told me one thing that sort of related to my question. What had I done to deserve a devil like Marcello in my life? Well, I’d led a good life, and if I continued on my path, I’d continue to lead a good life. But which path was that? The one I was on with Marcello or the path before I met him? At this moment neither path seemed right.

  “The cards didn’t make any sense to me,” I told Marcello as we walked home.

  “Why not? Yours are easy. Just stay on the path you’re on. Look. Just up ahead is your dorm. Your good life lies before you.”

  That’s when I remembered I was holding Marcello’s hand. He’d taken mine when we walked out of the restaurant, and it felt so good I didn’t want to push him away. But I was getting close to home. What if someone saw us? I pulled at my hand as I tried to step away. He was reluctant to let me go but finally he did.

  “Sorry. I’ve gotta run. I don’t usually stay out so late, and tomorrow I have classes that I missed last week.”

  “Right. Enjoy your life.” He sounded resigned to something he didn’t really want. That’s a devil for you.

  I tried to soften the blow. “We can see each other again. I had fun tonight.” Then I had an idea. “What are you doing Wednesday night?”

  He smiled his devilish smile. “Seeing you?”

  “Good. Saint Francis has a night mass on Wednesday. You should come.” Then I thought about what I’d just asked. He’d probably explode into flames if he stepped foot into a church. Before I could take my invitation back, he gave me a weak smile.

  “I’d like that.”

  “Where shall we meet?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll find you.”

  I WAS all dressed for church, but I hadn’t heard from, nor seen, Marcello. I really didn’t have much choice but to head out on my own.

  “My, my, but you clean up nicely.”

  It was Marcello’s deep baritone coming up behind me. He quickly fell in step with me. He cleaned up nicely too. He wore slacks and a button-up shirt. His hair was nicely styled, not as wild as it could be. And it looked like he’d even trimmed his goatee tighter against his face.

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” I admitted. “I’d begun to think that you weren’t coming. Don’t devils carry cell phones? How am I supposed to find you?”

  He grinned wickedly. “Oh, so now you’re looking for me. Well, that’s a step in the right direction. Eliza was right. You are on the right path.”

  Sure, I was going to church—but with the devil?

  “Hardly. I don’t know what path I’m on. The only thing I do know is that it doesn’t seem like the right path.”

  “What ever made you think that the right path is the easy path, Gabriel?”

  He’d done it again. Marcello always made me question myself.

  When we got to Saint Francis, I began to worry about Marcello again. Was he going to have to wait outside until I was done? But he marched boldly up the steps and held the door for me. Once inside he was the first one to the holy water to anoint himself. The water didn’t burn his skin like acid, and he grinned a satisfied grin at me as I followed suit.

  We found my favorite pew near the center, and he pulled out the kneeler and quietly began to pray. As we knelt side by side, I felt as warm in my chest as I had after drinking my first beer. When he was done, he leaned his shoulder into mine with a firm, warm pressure before sitting back.

  Just my luck, it was Father Bramble celebrating mass this evening. I liked coming on Wednesday nights because it was usually Father Christopher, just as it was at the ten-o’clock Sunday service. Marcello never needed any guidance from me. He stood when he was supposed to stand, knelt when he was supposed to kneel, and sang when it was time to sing. He hardly glanced at the words on the page for songs or prayers. He even went up to take communion and knelt beside me. Father Bramble didn’t bat an eye when he handed him the host.

  But Father Bramble had earned his reputation.

  As we walked home that warm evening I told Marcello, “I’m sorry that you had to hear Father Bramble’s sermon. Father Christopher never gives sermons like that.”

  “He’s entitled to his opinion. He doesn’t know how misguided he is now, but he will on the other side.”

  “But Star Wars? C’mon.”

  Father Bramble had gone on and on about false gods and deities using “the force” as his foundation. The next Star Wars movie wasn’t due until Christmas, but Father Bramble had made his case against good Catholics going to see it.

  “He did the same thing with Harry Potter,” Marcello reminded me. That had been years ago when I was still a young altar boy. How did Marcello know? “I think he actually just took his old sermon and substituted Star Wars for Harry Potter and figured no one would know or remember.”

  He was right.

  “How old are you?” I blurted out. How long did devils live?

  He shrugged. “I’m old enough to remember. Why?”

  I couldn’t say why. Instead I told him about how the Harry Potter sermon had affected me.

  “I went home and packed up all of my books and DVDs, but I wasn’t sure what to do with them. I asked my mom if I should just throw them away or if it would be a sin to donate them to some kid who didn’t believe in God.”

  “Wow! You were hard-core.”

  “Yeah, but my mom wasn’t. She told me to take them right back to my room and put them away where they belonged. She told me not to pay any attention to what Father Bramble had to say.”

  “Good for her.” Marcello chuckled.

  “Yeah, it wasn’t even the last time she told me that. I don’t think she likes him any more than I do.�
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  “Well, he totally missed the best opportunity. He could have used the movie to preach about the evils of war and how the faithful will always triumph.”

  “That might have been better,” I agreed.

  “Yeah, and it would have fit right in with the long-standing position of the Church. That’s what the crusades were all about—forcing Christianity upon the heathen masses even if you had to go to war and conquer them to do it. Almost every war the world has ever seen has some deep religious entrenchment. Although now the god that the powerful pray to is money, so oil has become the new religion.”

  “Man, you got cynical fast.”

  “Sorry.” Marcello looked a bit contrite. Then he smiled. “That little cracker didn’t do a thing for me. How about a little Japanese food tonight?”

  IT TURNED out that the devil does carry a cell phone for emergencies like calling a car service. In no time we were at a little out-of-the-way Japanese restaurant. Marcello started in with the chopsticks like he came from Japan. I’d used them before, but I wasn’t quite as good. Still Marcello worked with me and taught me a few tricks. I wouldn’t order the sushi like he did, but he made me try the California roll. He said everything in it was already cooked. The meat inside was just crab. And what could come from California that didn’t have a little bit of avocado in it? The food was fresh and healthy, and it tasted good too.

  “We have to come back here again!”

  “We will if you want,” Marcello told me. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” He grinned wide and his eyes sparkled from the room’s soft light.

  I realized what I’d just said. How long would he be around? Just long enough to get me to give him my eternal soul? And then what? Would he just move on to the next unsuspecting soul and leave me behind?

  “Aw, Gabriel. What’s the matter? You suddenly look sad. Don’t you like spending time with me?”