my dad has been riding me for, like ever. get a job, ash. like, okay but. have you even heard of summer. plus iâm tired. plus i literally donât want to do anything but wear a rainbow bikini and bake on beaches.Â
âiâm serious,â he says, in Serious Voice, his hand on the door handle with white knuckles. âyou canât waste your time like this.â
âugh,â i say, because, like ugh. he slams the door. i bury my face in pillows and like, âughâ for a solid thirty second, limbs spread akimbo all over the place. without meaning to, i fall asleep. i told you i was tired, dad.
i donât know what happens. maybe itâs all those times i had to stand in his office pretending to be official in white shoes and a pink skirt but when somebody grasps my hand, i grasp back. like lizard-brain response, iâm still half-asleep when iâm full-on up-and-down single-pump professional-style handshaking a demon. by the time i have bolted upright in bed and retracted my now-sticky (yet somehow also soggy?) hand, the voice is already speaking.
excuse me? âIâm what now?â my voice in comparison is weak, slippery with sleep and fear, dancing all over the place.
i hear something shift under me. my heart is caught in my throat while thereâs chuckles from the owner of the handshake equivalent of squeezing a taco bell meal. iâm having flashbacks to french kissing h.p. lovecraft in a bathroom in high school grade and iâve never even done that.Â
âiâll have to look at your references, obviously, but thatâs a hell of a handshake. i like you, kid.â
like but. for some reason, a giggle rises in my throat. like okay. like. this is normal. iâm like. it figures thereâd be something under my bed. like, with how much time i spent in the closet? who am i to even, like, judge.
âof course, orientation will be difficult,â the taco bell meal tentacle continues, âbut you wouldnât be the first weâve hired like you.â
âlike me?â like a woman or a gay woman or like a gay woman whoâs really good at making hot cocoa or like
âa human,â taco bell says.
iâm actually almost awake now. like iâm pretty sure iâm awake and iâm talking to the CEO of creepy, incorporated. certified possible demon. sock eating friend of cerberus.Â
for a second iâm about to call for my dad but then i remember those white knuckles around the door handle and my white shoes and how much gas money is and how he once made me shake hands for an hour but didnât give me a hug for the next four years.
i clear my throat. like, abuela told us about devils since i was old enough to threaten me with them and like technically i canât âcommune with spiritsâ but i also know enough not to upset a creature like this so i figure itâs in my best interests to take this in stride and maybe tomorrow throw a little bit more salt over my shoulder than usual. and like, i mean, at this point itâs just negotiating right. and if thereâs something i understand from dad itâs negotiating business.Â
âhours?â i ask, sitting up straighter. i canât see more than a writhing something that barely extends beyond the edges of my bedframe.
ânight shift, obviously.â
âcompetitive.â a pause. âlucrative, even.â
well like. what else is there. âiâm in.âÂ
âwonderful,â says taco bell, expressing with an accent iâm unfamiliar with and a form of joy that iâm uncomfortable with, âiâll go get the contract. be back in a jiffy.â
like, the sound of hell opening up isnât exactly a slurp-pop, but it does sound a lot like the way my seventh grade math teacherâs tongue used to sound when she was about to make a harsh comment about my homework. and like, for a second there iâm like. wait what the fuck did i just agree to am i in a horror movie is chucky gonna be my roommate now like does dracula sign my contract as a witness like am i really doing this. like? iâm a smart girl (donât look at my love life) how am i even considering this.
itâs also when my dad opens my door. âash?â even when heâs just woken up, he looks tidy. heâs wearing his wingtip shoes. never slippers on this man.
iâm like. coming around to my senses at this point. i hallucinated all that. i ate too many crackers with cream cheese and guava before bed. i listened to too many of abuelaâs supernatural sightings. and like, i told you, iâm tired.
âdad,â i say, blinking in the light from the hallway.
âyou were talking in your sleep, â he says.
âit is keeping me awake,â he says.
âyou know i am a light sleeper,â he says.
âyeah,â i say, âsorry.â
âplease control yourself,â he says.
âyeah ⊠i⊠okay.â i say. âsorry again.â
âgoodnight, ash,â he says, and he turns to go. he looks back at me and says âand ash?â and for a second, because i always have this moment, because i never learn, because iâm not a good learner, for a second iâm thinking - oh, heâs gonna say something nice, âin the morning, please get a job.â
âyeah,â i say, and my voice cracks and the door closes, âsorry again.â
i sit there, staring at the wall, saying nothing for a long time, or maybe no time at all. thinking about nothing. like the feeling you get when youâre thinking too much so it all just sounds like white noise.
then i hear it again. the crack-slurp of hell. i jump about like twelve feet. when i return from the space station my soul ascended to, i see the barely-defined outline of something, like the leg of an insect outside of a tentacle inside of a crab leg outside of the right back support beam of the eiffel tower. and like, a sphere of dull green light radiates directly above it, which, like, isnât even the weirdest part of my night.Â
âhowdy!â taco bell nacho supreme is back, âsorry for the delay, i was checking with management.â
âjust insert your hand into this here contract and youâll be employed part-time, pending references.â
âhang on,â i say. i swallow. âyou said the rate is⊠competitive?â
âwe got wishes, monkeyâs paws, souls, video game cheats⊠you name it, we pay it.â
â666 an hour to start. we do love tradition.â
i choke. âlike six dollars and sixty-six cents?â
taco bell laughs. âyou know what i meant. and we do direct deposit!â
i swallow. i think of my dad.Â
words tumbling out of me. âdo i have to hurt anyone? is my soul forfeit? can i ever get out of this? am i gonna turn colors how many days a week do i work is there a retirement plan can i readjust the terms after signing is it permanent will it harm me in any way how many people die doing this when do i start whatâs orientation who writes the checks andâ i take a breath âis the boss nice?â
âno, no, yes! but two weeks notice. no, usually five, if you sign up for it, yes, no, probably not, not many people are doing it mostly weâre non-physical or extra-corporeal so youâd have to ask H.R? tomorrow if you want, loads of fun and free sushi, H.R again, andâ taco bell takes a breath, âusually but particularly on wednesdays.â
i sit there and curl my knees to my chest.Â
âall this⊠because of a handshake?â
taco bell is silent for a moment. well, like, kind of. if eerie silence had a twin brother, or like the silence of a fast food restaurant exactly four minutes before the lights are shut off.
âusually, we come if weâre called by darkness. we deal in darker things than needs. i donât tend to show up when someone needs something. but sometimes⊠the lines get crossed, thatâs all. instead of your need heading on upwards, it called me instead.â
âuh,â i say, âare you admitting to the existence of like⊠angels?â
âanyway,â says taco bell, âyesterday Georurng self-terminated.â
âoh my gosh,â i say, âis he okay?â
âoh yeah, no, he retired to live with his six hivenests in west Berlin. we need new blood,â taco bell says. âof course, metaphorically.â
okay. okay. like. i could say i was bartending? in a few weeks i could buy a used car. out of pocket. like. if i needed to i could always quit. and like. honestly, again, how many chances to make closet jokes. plus, time at the beach. plus like. okay like how cool would it be.
âokay,â i whisper, âokay.â i try not to shake as i reach my hand out to the contract. it feels like dipping my hand into the inside of a cold turkey. i repress the shudder that runs up me.
in an instant, the specifics of my job write themselves over my eyes. they burn into the back of my brain. everything is spinning.Â
âsee you tomorrow!â taco bell is saying. i want to puke. my ears are ringing. i barely hear the portal to hell open again.Â
the fire of the contractâs words fade slowly until i am staring into the dark again. itâs not what i expected. it actually appeals to my sense of justice. taco bell was right about being called by something. iâve just agreed to be the thing that goes bump in the night. the one thing left against the people nobody else can fight. iâm gay dracula. iâm both a lesbian dementor and the boggart. iâm a rainbow-flag-flying boogeyman and i have a long list of people who i got a bone to pick with.Â
it takes me a moment to realize iâm smiling. sorry, dad, iâm gonna be like. ultra mega tired. but i got a job. doing what? oh, nothing.
just being the creature that lives under your bed. when bad men have darkness, we come haunting.Â
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