Dance For The Devil

by S. Kodejs

  “Why don’t you see if you can get your curfew extended tonight, say to one o’clock? All the good stuff always happens around midnight.”

  “I don’t think he’ll go for it.”

  “Try him. It’s a Saturday night, so maybe he’ll let you. Okay, I’ll pick up Elise first, then Alex, and then you, Amy. Try not to keep me waiting; we don’t want to miss any of the fun.”

  **

  Amy knocked softly on Jake’s study. He was slouched in front of his computer, playing a game. “Ah ha!” he said triumphantly. “I think I finally found the tricky little bugger.”

  “Dad?”

  “Oh, Amy. Sorry. I’ve been looking for a design error on this game for weeks now, and I finally figured out what the problem is. Take a look at this.” His fingers flew over the keyboard.

  Amy smiled in spite of herself. “You’re the only parent I know who gets paid to play games for a living.”

  “Not just any game... Pluto’s Playground. Ta da! Just wait until I tell Gil about this – his blood pressure has been so high everyone’s afraid he’ll keel over with a stroke. This was supposed to be fixed weeks ago but we couldn’t find the problem. Gil had some Japanese buyers to see it, and he lied like the Devil himself. It was amazing to see how glib he was, smooth as silk.” Jake chuckled. “Anyway, Gil was starting to think we’d never find the problem. In fact, only this morning he suggested making major program changes to compensate, but I told him, no, I’d find it... though to tell you the truth, even I had my doubts. But here it is, and where you’d least expect it –”

  “Uh, that’s great, Dad. Listen, I need to ask a favor.”

  “Sure.” But his attention was on the screen, not her. Amy fought the urge to scream.

  “Jason Vandercamp asked me out tonight, to go to a teen’s group he belongs to. Sort of a church thing. Alex and Elise are going too... Dad? Are you listening?”

  “Uh huh. Go on.”

  “The only problem is, the meeting goes until midnight and it would be embarrassing to leave early. Would you consider extending my curfew until one o’clock?”

  “Mmmm.”

  “Dad! This is important.”

  He finally looked up, and she could tell he hadn’t been paying full attention. Amy repeated her request, trying to stay calm.

  “You look really nice, Amy.” And she did. Long blond hair brushed neatly, hanging untethered. She wore a soft pink sweater and a denim skirt, with the ubiquitous Doc Martens on her feet. She waited.

  “All right,” Jake said, finally. “I’ll extend your curfew because I’m impressed with the way you’ve asked me, instead of just coming home late. That shows maturity, Amy. Since it’s not a school night, and since I know where you’re going, and with whom, I’ll extend your curfew until one. Not a moment later, okay?” She nodded. “If it works out tonight, and if you make sure you keep ahead of your homework without being reminded, then I’ll consider extending it permanently. Alright?”

  “Thanks, Daddy!” She bounced over and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re the best! I promise I won’t disappoint you! I’ve got to phone Jason!”

  Jake smiled. “And I have to phone Gil. Looks like we’re hooked on the Vandercamp family, huh?” He watched her bound happily out of the room and he sighed. It reminded him of when she was a little girl.

  This parenthood thing was tough. Perhaps Gil was right after all, maybe she needed more space. Well, pushing his misgivings aside, he’d given her space. Now, he could fret and worry while she was gone.

  He idly hoped there was a good TV movie playing on the late-show. He had a feeling it was going to be a long evening.

  **

  They donned hooded black robes in the parking lot, carefully covering their heads. Jason checked each one of them, and satisfied, led them into a derelict building. The four were indistinguishable, save for Elise’s nervous giggles, until Jason admonished her to remain quiet.

  Jason held Amy’s hand as he led them through the entrance. Others, similarly clad, filed through the door. It was hard to see clearly, a combination of the dimly-lit room and the floppy hood. The two joints they’d shared in the car didn’t help her vision either. Amy tried to focus but everything remained blurry. She allowed Jason to lead her in.

  They took seats near the back. A pewter goblet was passed around and Jason motioned for her to drink. It smelled spicy and sweet, and Amy sipped lightly, surprised to find the liquid warm and rather thick. “More,” he whispered. “You need to take a bigger drink. It’s like communion, it enhances the ceremony. Trust me.” She did, then passed it along.

  It was hard to tell exactly how many people were here, maybe fifty or sixty. The room was set up like a church, with pews, a pulpit and an altar. Darkness prevailed, except for the altar, where dozens of black candles flickered. A breeze whistled throughout and it was airy and damp. Amy shivered, but it was more from excitement than the chill.

  There was tension in the room, an air of expectancy. Amy shifted her head slightly and saw some couples clasped together. One had his hand under another’s cape, but aside from soft groaning, Amy couldn’t tell exactly what was going on. She averted her eyes and began to look around.

  Then suddenly, with a flash of fire and smoke, the altar burst into light and a man appeared. His voice boomed loudly and everyone cheered. Amy found herself cheering along, her voice joining with Jason’s and her friends.

  The man stripped off his cape and Amy gasped as she realized he was naked, except for the hood which covered his face. Dark symbols covered his torso, symbols she’d never seen before. Amy found herself staring at his penis, glad for the hood which hid her face. Her head swam dizzily and she felt a funny tingling deep in her groin.

  The man was speaking now and people were applauding. It was hard to hear what he was saying because his voice was soft. She caught the word ‘sinners’ and everyone cheered. A woman joined him now, stripping off her robe and lying naked on the altar. The man stroked her breasts and fondled his penis, and Amy felt Jason’s hand slip under her robe. At least, she thought it was Jason’s.

  Her head felt fuzzy, but the warmth in her groin grew and she opened her legs slightly, allowing him to push aside her panties, fingering her wetness. She squirmed, allowing him better access.

  The man was spreading the woman’s legs now, and people were cheering. Now he was pouring something on her, something red, something that looked like blood. He massaged it into her breasts and Amy could hear the woman moaning. Although the woman was complacent, the man tethered her wrists and spread her arms wide, then repeated the action with her legs.

  “Sex is not evil!” The man shouted into the crowd. “Sex is natural. Sex is healthy. The bible is wrong!”

  He lowered himself onto the woman and began to copulate. Amy felt hands stroking her breasts, and she was pretty sure they weren’t Jason’s, because he was still fondling her in the other place, but it all felt so good she couldn’t stop it. Her head swam, and she succumbed to the thrilling sensations, her eyes remaining riveted to the altar. They were actually having intercourse! Here. In front of everyone! She had never seen anything like it, never imagined anything could be so... erotic.

  The man continued to preach, but Amy couldn’t pay attention. Fingers plunged deeper inside of her and her body exploded with her very first orgasm. She let the sensation carry her away, knowing it was wrong, somehow, but not caring. How could something that felt so good be wrong? The man was right. Sex was not a sin.

  She believed him. She heard herself groaning, and she believed him.

  **

  Later, as they filed past the naked woman, Amy saw she was not much older than herself. As they passed, each cloaked figure bent and placed a flower on her supine body. Amy found a flower pressed into her hands, so in turn, she too bent and placed it softly above the woman’s navel. Her pubis was already covered, so the navel seemed as good a place as any. As she bent, the woman stared straight into Amy’s eyes and smiled. Her eye
s were strange. Very pale, very blue.

  Amy smiled back.

  Later, in Jason’s car, they all remained quiet, each absorbed in thought. Amy felt the buzz of her earlier lethargy wear off, but rather than feeling tired, she was alert, excited.

  “So, what did you guys think?” Jason asked finally.

  “Wow,” Alex said, shaking his head. “I mean... Wow.”

  Elise sounded less certain. “I don’t know. It was awesome, but.... I don’t know.”

  “I do,” Amy said, speaking clearly. “This has been the most incredible night of my life.”

  Jason smiled, looking deep into her eyes. “I knew you’d like it. You’re really something, Amy. Something special.”

  “So are you, thanks for taking me. I can’t wait to go again. When is the next time?”

  **

  Usually their skills were evenly matched during their weekly racquetball games, and the close score further evidence of an aggressive, tightly played game.

  Usually.

  Today, Gil was trouncing Jake, winning all three games quickly and easily. And, while Jake’s sweat ran freely into his eyes and down his chest, his breath coming in rapid spasms, Gil remained steady, his own brow cool and dry.

  “You’ve been holding out on me, buddy,” Jake remarked, finally collapsing into a corner. “Taking lessons on the side?”

  Gil smiled slightly. “No.”

  “Then what? You’re... turbo charged. I don’t know what your secret is, but if it’s legal, I want some.

  Gil laughed. “Just luck. Sometimes, everything bounces just right.”

  Jake shook his head. “You can say that again... but it seems more than that. You look different... healthier.”

  Gil turned away. “Good night’s sleep, that’s all. Listen, I need to talk to you about work.”

  Jake staged a mock groan. “Oh, sure. Beat me first, now torture me.”

  “Seriously. It’s about Pluto’s Playground.”

  “What? We found the error. Is there another problem?”

  “Not exactly. Marketing gave it to a test group to try out in the arcade and the kids say it needs more... pizzazz. More superhero stuff. You know, magic power, more fighting stunts. You understand.”

  Jake frowned. “No, I don’t. Our concept is less violence, more education. That’s what attracted me to Marvelworks. If we add special powers and fighting scenes then how is this game different from all the other drivel?”

  “Now, Jake, calm down. It’s not like I’m asking for your first born.”

  “You might as well be! For Christ’s sake, Gil! Pluto’s Playground is basically a nonviolent game. How can we add fighting scenes? It’ll destroy the entire concept.”

  “You’re wrong, there. We have the elements in place, we just need to expand. For example, on level six, when the player does battle with giant worms. We give him more ammo, maybe some nuclear weapons to blow the sucker up.”

  “Gil –”

  “No, hear me out. Basically, the game is perfect but we need to make a few adjustments. An alien fight scene on level-four. And, we need something sensational on level-one, to hook the little bastards right from the beginning. Nothing too gory, mind you, maybe a planet explosion, a few bodies drifting by.”

  “Have you lost your bloody mind?”

  “Now, Jake, I knew you’d be upset by this, but be reasonable and think about it. It makes good business sense –”

  “I won’t do it.”

  Gil coughed. “Well, actually, you won’t have to. The changes have already been made and you can see it in the arcade. The test group is trying it out.”

  Jake kept his mouth shut. He didn’t trust himself to speak. He glared at Gil, wiped the sweat from his head with an angry swipe of the towel, and stalked off the court.

  He showered quickly and threw his clothes on, then returned to Marvelworks head office. At street level, a small video arcade attracted kids anxious to play the new games for free. This arcade was another brainchild of Gil’s and it served a dual purpose: valuable feedback and free advertising. The kids gave the corporation their reaction to new products, and if they liked them, they told their friends. Although the arcade was open to everyone, a core group of kids evolved, neatly representing the buyer’s profile, mainly boys aged ten to sixteen. They lined up in front of the machines, lanky bodies in baggy clothing, baseball caps covering unwashed hair and cheeks wadded full of chewing gum: theirs was an unofficial uniform.

  Marvelworks knew something else about this control group: although they were highly intelligent, they remained social outcasts among their own peers. They were nerds. Geeks. Through their enjoyment and success at video games, they found acceptance among kindred spirits. At Marvelworks, and at other video outlets across the country, these pre-teens and pre-adults found a niche where they were encouraged to do what they did best.

  As Jake stormed in, his features set tightly, no one paid attention. He recognized most of the kids, knew a few by name. “Hey, Rat, let me see Pluto’s Playground.”

  “S’awesome, Dude. Dynamite game.” Rat talked while keeping his eyes glued to the screen, fingers flying. Jake watched a mutilated body fly towards the screen, the lifeless face frozen in agony. A quick glance around the room confirmed what he suspected. Pluto’s Playground bore little resemblance to the game he developed.

  “Ah, Jake, There you are! I figured you’d come here. Have you calmed down yet?”

  “I’m calm, Gil. Very calm.”

  “Listen, I know it wasn’t fair to spring this on you, and make the changes without telling you, but the decision was made on the weekend you refused to work. You remember? The weekend you went away with your kids instead of being here.”

  Jake remained motionless, his features set.

  Gil cleared his throat before continuing. “At first, someone suggested we make alternate arrangements in case we couldn’t locate the programming error, and for a while there, it seemed we’d never find it. These changes were made as a contingency plan, but the contingency turned out better than the original.”

  Jake watched more bloodshed on the screen and turned away in disgust. “You waited three weeks to let me know? Why not tell me immediately?”

  “Thought it’d be better to show you the finished product.”

  “To coin a phrase from my kids, the finished program sucks. I hate it.” Jake was yelling now, not caring that the kids in the arcade were turning to stare.

  Gil lowered his own voice. “Look, I understand how you feel – I’d be pissed, too. However, it’s a done deal, and when you calm down and start thinking rationally, you’ll realize I did the right thing. Just look around you, Jake, these kids love Pluto’s Playground, and except for some relatively minor changes, the game is still yours. Feel proud, Jake, you get full credit.” Gil flashed a brilliant yet bashful smile, somewhat like a small boy begging for forgiveness. As angry as he was, Jake found it difficult to ignore the persuasion emanating from him.

  “Put it back to the way it was.”

  “Can’t do that, buddy.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Won’t.”

  “And since you’re the boss, you get final decision.”

  “Exactly.”

  Jake turned away abruptly, loosening his tie. “For the record, I’m dead set against these changes and I refuse to have my name connected to this violent garbage. I’m taking the rest of the day off – and if you don’t like it, fire me.”

  Gil nodded slowly, his steely eyes appraising. “Good idea – you need time to cool off, to see the big picture. See you tomorrow.”

  **

  Infuriated, Jake chose to walk home, hoping to blow off some steam. He’d collect his car after, sometime after he collected his equilibrium. The distance was fair and it would take him more than an hour of brisk striding, but the crisp autumn air would help clear his head, help him think.

  Vandercamp was the boss; he could do whatever he chose. Why so sneaky,
then? Why hadn’t he told Jake from the beginning?

  Because Jake would have fought tooth and nail. This way it was a fait accompli. Was the program glitch a set-up, not meant to be corrected? Jake shook his head, trying to clear the foreboding sensation that he’d been duped all along.

  Images popped into his head. Funny glances directed his way, covert conversations silencing abruptly as he approached, the feeling that people were always watching him... waiting.

  Even though he’d been at Marvelworks for over six months, he was still the newbie. There was always a grace period upon starting any new job but how long would he continue being an outsider?

  The watery sunshine warmed his skin pleasantly, calming him. Vandercamp and Marvelworks were miles behind now, and the sinister plots he’d imagined were beginning to seem paranoid. He’d accepted disappointments before; why get so bent out of shape over this one?

  After a while, he found his rigid pace slowing as he noticed the changing colors of the deciduous trees. Crimson-reds mixed with pumpkin-orange, and yellows so bright they might have been taken from a child’s imagination. When was the last time he noticed the changing seasons? When was the last time he’d frolicked in fallen leaves, carefree?

  His original plan had been to take the quickest route home, cutting through the business section and across Beacon Hill Park. But he wasn’t ready to go home yet, and something urged him to keep walking. No reason to hurry, he rationalized. The kids were in school, no one expected him, and this unanticipated freedom, combined with the beauty of the day, replaced his earlier anger with a guilty exhilaration. A few stolen hours to get himself back on track.

  On a whim he changed direction, allowing his long legs to carry him toward the ocean, through the old section of town. Quaint coffee bars and art galleries lined cobblestoned streets. He glanced with interest at the window dressings of shops vying for Halloween business. A vintage clothing store had an eerie display of gossamer ghosts wearing turn-of- the-century costumes. Next to it, a tourist emporium showcased autumn leaves mixed with chestnuts and pumpkins amongst the Native Indian carvings and t-shirts. The contrast was interesting enough to make him pause.