Demons at War

by P A Minyard

  “I’d say Daniel is the very tonic that you needed. He’s washed away the weariness of your soul.”

  Daniel froze momentarily as if his secret had been revealed. His own face flushed with embarrassment.

  “His company does warm my heart,” Beth answered.

  “By the looks of it, he benefits as well,” his mother added.

  Without warning, Daniel began to feel uneasy; the benign comments were rapidly making him feel nervous, even threatened.

  “And his strength has returned,” Jonathan proudly piped in. “You should have seen him helping Robert this morning.”

  “Now, Jonathan,” Daniel began. He was agitated and unable to control the aggravation. “Don’t make up stories.”

  “I’m not making up stories,” Jonathan said defensively. “You lifted him right into the cart. I saw the whole thing.”

  “Then, your eyes have deceived you,” he barked. “I did no such thing.” Daniel felt he was being backed into a corner and the rage was building from within. His heart was pounding violently against his ribs and his face had turned dark pink.

  “Boys,” their father interrupted, “maybe it’s time to take a deep breath.”

  “Are you calling me a liar?” Jonathan said, his voice rising.

  “Fool would be a better word,” Daniel shot back as a snarl formed on his lips. As he clenched his jaw, the hair on his chin seemed to stand at attention.

  “Daniel!” Beth grabbed his arm. She could see the veins in his neck bulging. “Why are you getting so upset?”

  He pulled his arm away. All eyes were on him. He looked back at each of them like a cornered animal ready to strike. He could sense their fear.

  “Enough!” He threw back his chair and stormed out the back door.

  “I didn’t mean anything by it,” Jonathan sighed.

  They all just stared at each other in disbelief, befuddled at his odd behavior. By the time the family had regained their composure, Daniel had run deep into the woods.

  “What was that about?” Bernard grabbed Daniel’s sleeve and spun him around.

  Daniel yanked his arm free. “They know!”

  “They know nothing. Try to calm down.”

  “Their accusations were quite pointed,” Daniel growled. “Accusations?” Bernard squinted at him, then rushed at Daniel, grabbed him by his coat and threw him violently to the ground.

  The utter shock angered Daniel further. He scrambled to his feet as his eyes flashed black as night. He lunged at Bernard with the intent of tackling him. Bernard’s swift sidestep sent Daniel headlong into a tree. The blow left an impression in the trunk and the pain made Daniel stop and think. He slowly returned to his senses.

  “What was that about?” Bernard repeated.

  “I don’t know,” Daniel replied. “I felt like they were attacking me.” He rubbed his forehead with his hand to keep the blood from running into his eyes.

  “You could have hurt someone.” Bernard shook his head in disgust. “You could have hurt all of them.”

  “I know. The way they looked at me. I could feel their fear and see the terror in their eyes.”

  “And that was not enough to stop your rage?” Bernard asked. He had relaxed his shoulders and no longer took a defensive stance above Daniel.

  “It was as if I didn’t recognize them; as if I didn’t know them, but only for a moment.”

  “The power is toying with you. You’ve got to get a handle on it. This behavior cannot continue.”

  “Maybe I should leave,” Daniel sighed. “Maybe I don’t belong here anymore. I’m no good at hiding this. I practically threw Robert up into his seat.”

  “I think you’re being hasty.”

  “This arrangement benefits no one,” Daniel said. “One day they are going to have to come to grips with the knowledge that I am dead. How could either one of us think otherwise?”

  Bernard extended his hand, reached down and helped Daniel to his feet. He pulled at his shirt until part of it ripped free and held the cloth to Daniel’s head. They looked at each other as if trying to discern one another’s thoughts. Daniel moved his hand back to his forehead and began holding the cloth himself.

  “You hit me,” Daniel said with an odd smile.

  “I did what I had to do,” Bernard answered.

  “Are all angels as brash?”

  “The color of my hair should have been your first clue.”

  “Indeed,” Daniel replied. He looked up at the grey sky, then around at the trees, trying to remember happier times when he played in the woods as a child.

  “What will you tell your family when you leave?” Bernard asked.

  “I’m not sure, but at least, I’ll be able to say goodbye.” Daniel started walking back to the house.

  Bernard nervously fussed with his torn shirt as he watched Daniel disappear into the trees.

  Dinner was long over when Daniel retreated to his bedroom. It was the only room in the house where he felt welcome. He knew he had crossed the line and now feared for his family’s safety. He was a loose cannon, liable to cut any one of them off at the knees without warning.

  “Why did I get so angry? Why couldn’t I stop myself? There was something spurring me on, such a visceral need to defend myself. Poor Jonathan — he must hate me. Maybe Bernard is right. I was a fool to have taken such power.”

  “You are no fool. The power called to you, and you took it as expected...” Daniel felt a cold chill run up his spine. The last thought was his but not his at all. He looked around the room, waiting for Bernard to appear and continue the conversation. He was alone. “I’m so upset I must be hearing things,” he thought.

  He grabbed up his pipe and filled it with the tobacco Duff had given him. He sat down in the rocking chair as he lit the dried leaves, puffing away. He stared out the window at the dark, winter night sky. The stars looked almost painted upon the black backdrop. There were so many. They would be impossible to count even if he were so inclined. Daniel felt horrible about the way he had behaved earlier. He owed his family a huge apology. “Maybe they’ll be grateful when I leave.”

  He was at a loss for what he’d say to them. There were no words to explain such anger. He clenched his teeth around the pipe, drawing the smoke into his lungs. It didn’t seem to calm him like before. “Apparently, there’s no solace for me tonight.” He tried rocking the chair as he finished his pipe, almost begging it to draw out a fond memory.

  “It’s what’s best for them. The longer you stay, the more pain you’ll cause.”

  The next morning, Daniel rose early. He hadn’t had much sleep anyway. He washed his face, put on his uniform and began gathering his belongings. He rolled up his clothes and stuffed them in a small cloth sack. There wasn’t much to pack — extra socks, a shirt and some undergarments. Living with the army had taught him the difference between necessity and luxury. He left his pipe on the dresser.

  The family was downstairs. He had heard each of them rise and file into the kitchen. There were lowered voices, whispers really, but he knew the topic of conversation. He appeared in the doorway with the sack draped across his shoulder.

  “I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he began. “I’m not sure I even have the right to ask for it. My behavior yesterday was unacceptable, and I do not belong under the warmth of your kindness.”

  The family looked stunned.

  “I must return and finish what I’ve started. I’m not worthy of this gentle life just yet.”

  “You have done all that was asked of you,” his mother said with tears in her eyes.

  “I wish to do more,” Daniel answered.

  “It’s all my fault!” Jonathan blurted out. “I never should have said anything. Don’t leave because of me.”

  “It’s no one’s fault, Jonathan,” Daniel said. “And there is nothing you could ever do to make me leave. You are the finest brother anyone could ever ask for, and I only wish to make you proud.”

  Jonathan’s chest beg
an to heave, and Daniel could see him fighting the tears. Beth wasn’t interested in holding back her emotions.

  “Running away won’t solve anything!” she said. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “You’ve more than earned you place under this roof. I beg you —give it more time.”

  Daniel could only smile. “I hope you never lose that passion,” he said.

  His father stood by, watching everyone make their pleas. He wanted to stop his son from walking out that door one more time. He walked up to Daniel, placed his hand on his shoulder, and nodded in silence before leaving the room.

  Beth rushed to him next. She threw her arms around him and held him tight. Her strength had returned, and Daniel was grateful to be there to see it.

  He kissed her on the cheek and whispered in her ear, “Duff is the luckiest man I know.”

  She pushed back and tried to smile, thanking him with her eyes. Jonathan jumped in, practically knocking Daniel over with his embrace. He was too choked up to say anything.

  “No more than three bullies at a time, OK?” Daniel said, and hugged him back, dropping the sack on the floor.

  Beth took Jonathan’s hand and pulled him away. His mother just stood there looking at Daniel in disbelief.

  “You will always be my child,” she said, “the baby that I nursed, the little boy whose skinned knee I bandaged. I don’t know how to let go of you.”

  “Then, I’ll take comfort in the knowledge that I will always be in your heart.” He stepped forward and threw his arms around her.

  She trembled as she began to sob. He held her for as long as he could bear it.

  “Duff will return one day for Beth,” he said softly. “Welcome him into the family as if he were me.”

  “Gerald and Beth?” his mother brushed away her tears. “How many more surprises do you have in that sack of yours?” She tried to smile.

  “I had my doubts at first, but it seems she’ll make an honest man of him yet.”

  “I’ll make room for one more at the table,” she replied.

  10

  INSIDE OUT

  Jonathan burst out the front door when he saw the postman. He nearly ran the poor man over. It had only been a few weeks since Daniel left, but Jonathan was hungry for even a brief note from his older brother.

  “My, aren’t you the eager one today,” the postman said as his eyes widened.

  “I was hoping for a letter from my brother, sir,” Jonathan said, and blushed.

  “Not today, I’m afraid.” He handed over the mail before continuing his walk down the road.

  “Thank you, sir,” Jonathan said as he watched the postman walk away. He noticed Joshua coming up the road with a basket in his hand.

  “When did you become the delivery boy?” Jonathan teased as Joshua approached.

  “Ben’s not feeling well today,” Joshua said, turning his eyes away from Jonathan.

  “I see.” Jonathan could tell by his friend’s demeanor that Ben had probably tasted the sting of his father’s wrath. He tried to brush over it.

  “Thanks for bringing the order. I’ll take these to Mother right away.” He reached for the basket.

  “Wait,” Joshua said, pulling back, “I need to tell you something.” Joshua’s abrupt behavior caught Jonathan’s attention. He was rarely so matter of fact.

  “What?”

  “Look, I know you’re upset that Daniel went back to the war, but maybe it’s for the best.”

  “How can you say that?” Jonathan’s posture straightened, and he threw his shoulders back as if readying for a fight.

  “Ben had a dream last night. It was very bad. I’ve never seen him like that. He didn’t recognize anyone when he first woke up. It was like he was still dreaming.” Joshua stared at the ground as he grabbed the back of his head. “He wouldn’t tell me what happened, he just kept saying ‘Daniel’s not Daniel.’”

  “What do you mean ‘Daniel’s not Daniel’?” Jonathan’s heart began to pound.

  “I don’t know.” Joshua looked up, his eyes watering. “Ben’s dreams are always about events, things that are about to happen, things that come to pass, but he’s never done this before. I just thought you should know.” Jonathan took a step back. He could see how shaken his friend was. “Maybe he just had a nightmare. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything at all,” Jonathan said as if trying to convince himself as well. But his face went pale and a cold chill ran up his spine when he remembered how Daniel behaved the night before he left.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Jonathan stood there, trying to gather himself as his thoughts flashed in and out. Benjamin’s dreams were always very specific with vivid details. How could something so vague actually mean anything? Everyone has dreams and nightmares. Why would Benjamin be any different? The sheer lack of information made it easy for Jonathan to dismiss the notion that something was wrong. He didn’t want to believe it anyway.

  “Don’t apologize for being a good friend. I know how much you like Daniel,” Jonathan said with a sigh. “I think that Ben is just worried that the war will change Daniel. How could it not? I’m telling you when he comes back for good, Daniel will be Daniel again.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Joshua said as he handed the basket of eggs over to Jonathan.

  “Why don’t you take them inside?” Jonathan said, trying to smile. “Mother will be happy to see you.”

  It was the winter of 1862-63, yet the Northern base camps still bustled with activity. Duff stood inside the quartermaster’s office looking out the window at the courtyard of the camp. He could see the drill sergeant lining up the new recruits and laying down the discipline that might one day save their lives. Some of the boys looked half his age, some looked scared and others looked defiant, welcoming the fight. But they would all look the same by the time they marched out the front gate and on to their assignments, at least that was the objective of the training camps.

  Duff was a master marksman and could load a rifle quicker than most, particularly under duress. He was in charge of drilling the men once they received their guns. They wouldn’t be allowed to fire their rifles excessively; bullets and powder were too valuable. It made his job that much harder but it was exactly why they had him in charge. The boys in the courtyard were weeks away from his tutelage but he studied them at a distance.

  “Do you see one out there?” a lieutenant asked from behind a desk. “They will have a look about them, you know,” Duff answered, “an air of confidence.”

  “And you can tell just by their demeanor?”

  “How they carry themselves, how they look at the other men, sizing up the competition, how they react to the sergeant barking in their face.” Duff kept staring out the window.

  “Well,” the lieutenant said, seeming annoyed, “is there one out there?” “There’s no marksman in this group,” Duff answered solemnly, and turned to look at the lieutenant, “but they’ll be damn fine with a rifle by the time I’m done with them.”

  The lieutenant seemed pleased with Duff’s response.

  “You have a good day, Captain,” he said, and saluted.

  “That is the plan.” Duff returned the salute with a wink.

  He walked out the door and passed the recruits, barely giving them notice. Duff didn’t know how long he’d be stationed there. The camp in Columbus, Ohio, was fast becoming a prison for captured Confederate soldiers. Part of him ached for battle, but most of him knew the longer he remained, the more likely he was to return to a life after the war, maybe even a life with Beth. Meanwhile, he did his part. Training these boys properly would aid their return to their families. He took great pride in that.

  Daniel pulled his shirt back on and buttoned it up. He had spent a good part of the day under the watchful eyes of the camp doctors who checked him over from head to toe on several occasions. He had relayed the events that led to his wound and discharge multiple times. They were stunned at his miraculous recovery. They could find no plausible re
ason to deny his request to return to service. A well-trained officer could not go to waste in times like these.

  The training camp was just north of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. It bustled with eager, new recruits. He would be assigned to the next regiment ready for battle, but until then, he was given quarters in the officer’s barracks and told to await orders.

  The small room he occupied was half the size of his bedroom at home; barely enough for a cot and small stand on which a lamp had been placed. There were no windows and very little ventilation. It suited Daniel just fine. He was alone and away from prying eyes. And the gate provided him with the opportunity to slip away from the doldrums of the camp. He wanted to show Bernard that he was capable of controlling the power he’d consumed; that he wouldn’t let it toy with him anymore.

  He called for the gate and crossed into the parlor of a beautiful Victorian home where a party was being held. The rooms were filled with ornate and expensive furnishings, gold the overwhelming color of choice. It seemed a bit overdone and grotesque to Daniel’s eye. A senator was hosting several Union officers and their wives for an evening of entertainment. Daniel was welcomed by all as if he had been invited. They didn’t seem to notice nor care that he wasn’t wearing his dress attire. The simple, blue field uniform garnered just as much admiration. The alcohol had been flowing freely for some time.

  “How lovely to see you again,” said one of the wives dressed in a lavish ball gown, grabbing his arm and leading him through the crowd as if they were close acquaintances. He didn’t correct her when she introduced him several times as Thomas. She moved from one couple to the next with Daniel at her side, taking every opportunity to embellish his exploits when the single ladies were in earshot. He was courteous and played along. All seemed entertained by her tales.

  But Daniel’s chest tightened when he noticed a major who stood away from the crowd watching the festivities. There was no doubt in his mind that it was a demon, but before he could react, dizziness overtook him. His body halted, holding still as his face dropped and his eyes went blank momentarily. Then the makings of a snarl curled across his lips; his back straightened and his chest puffed slightly as he cocked his head to one side. The change in his demeanor was instantaneous and unnoticed by the lady who had been leading him around the room. He politely removed her from his presence.