The Witch Wood Demon, Part 2 (reprise)

The road ahead looked straight without any curves to worry about, but there was a nice big drop off to the right that would send the car hooded man straight into John's Creek. It wasn't very deep this time of year, of course, but the water would be cold and Angelica wasn't certain he, or she, could take a ride down the cliff and be able to survive it. If she tried to keep the make-shift sled from sliding too fast down the little hill Angelica was certain she would get run over, which would, again, do neither of them any good.

Snow began to drift down lazily again from the gray-white overcast sky. It was quiet in the midst of the snow. Not a single sound of human occupation could be heard. Birds sang and chortled merrily high in the trees. It was beautiful, yet dangerous. Angelica had never thought of her childhood home as ever being dangerous before. Would it have been better to leave the man behind and trek out to get help? Had it been a mistake to try and bring him along with her? Was she going to inadvertently going to end up killing him while trying to save his life? The doubts began to bombard her from every side, every angle. Angelica had always considered herself a confident person, but now she wasn't. She was the least confident she had ever been in her entire life.

"It's quite heavy to have the burden of another life weighing on you isn't it." Angelica jumped and let out a small squeal at the sound of the voice. A man was standing to her left, leaning lazily against a tree. His voice was deep, sexy, almost gravely with desire and glee. He had on a thick fur coat and he was wearing dark sunglasses. Angelica didn't say anything. She couldn't run and leave the man on the hood behind. I need to give him a name, Angelica thought suddenly. Focus! she told herself. This could be bad.

"Why don't you call him Bob?" the stranger said, ambling over to her smoothly. The absence of the sound of snow crunching under his feet as he walked toward her was frighteningly acute. "Bob is always a good non-descript name to call someone you don't know." Had she spoken out loud?

"No, the man answered. You didn't speak out loud." Angelica closed her eyes and counted to twenty. She was a lot more tired than what she had thought she was. When she opened her eyes, though, he was standing directly in front of her. He should have been level with her eyes considering the slope, but he wasn't. In fact, his feet weren't touching the snow covered pavement of the road at all. He smiled a strikingly handsome smile. "Isn't it beautiful here?" he said, looking around with the smile still on his face. Angelica nodded automatically.

"OK, you're a figment of my imagination because I'm so tired," she said suddenly.

"Why don't you just ask me?" he whispered, leaning forward slightly. Angelica could smell the clean smell of a male body before her, lightly scented with a perfume she had never smelled before. It was almost intoxicating.

"Ask you what?"

"Am I real or not." He was still leaning close, just above her. His chest and shoulders were broad and, Angelica imagined, rippled with muscles.

"Are you?"

"Am I what?" The man flashed a flirtatious smile down upon her, and Angelica couldn't help but blush at the intensity in his eyes.

"Are you real or my imagination?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"You decide," he said with a charming smile. The man reached out and stroked her cheek. His hand was warm, so very warm. Angelica realized, almost with a start, just how cold she really was. Then his fingers found her earlobe and pinched it hard so that she cried out in pain and struck his hand away. The hood that had been holding in all of her dark brown hair slid back, letting her hair escape.

"You're beautiful!" he said. He looked almost shocked.

"And you are a very dangerous part of my imagination. I'm sorry, but I can't talk now. I have to keep moving."

"So, you don't believe your senses?" A small laugh rumbled out from the center of his chest. Angelica watched the man walk on air to the side of the road which was packed with snow, and back again. There were no footprints in the snow. Once more in front of her he touched her cheek again, softly, delicately, and again there was warmth. When he withdrew his hand from her face, she regretted losing the warmth of his touch. "Can a figment make you warm?"

"I have a very good imagination," Angelica said and moved to the rear of the car hood and, like with a tobagan, gave it a shove and jumped onto the part of it where the man . . . Bob's legs were. Bob moaned softly. Angelica balanced herself off of his injured legs as best she could, but she was certain it hurt.

"I'm sorry," she told him as the car hood sled went zooming down the hill. Angelica didn't look back. She didn't want to see what was there, or who was there, or if no one was there.

The ride down the hill was swift. Once the sled came precariously close to the edge and then changed direction quickly back onto the road, doing a slow, graceful circle, straightening out a little, then doing another slow circle. It bounced against the side of the mountain once, which made the man cry out, but his eyes never opened. As another circle made itself, Angelica hazarded a look back at the summit of the hill which was a good distance away now, but she could still make out the image of the man in his fur coat.

The sled came to a jolting halt. The trip had caused the car hood to stop facing the hill, and not away from it. Angelica turned to see what had stopped their progress and was startled to see the man standing there, one foot on the car hood as if he had stopped it. Angelica glanced back at the hill. No one was there.

Slowly, Angelica moved from the car hood.

"Haven't you heard the stories about me?" the man asked.

"Stories?"

"I'm the Witch Wood Demon," he said softly, lowering his voice as if to keep others from hearing his confession. "I lie in wait for travelers and lead them to their doom. I drive them insane with their own fears. Or I just kill them." Angelica had never heard a voice turn so deadly cold before.

"OK," Angelica said with a slow nod. "I'll go with that for the time being." A look of surprise flitted over the handsome face of the man before her. "I don't want to call you Mr. Witch-Wood-Demon all the way to town, so what should I call you? Bob after all, is taken." A booming laughed escaped him and he eyed her with something of amusement and almost-respect.

"Call me what you like," he said finally. "I'm open to any name you wish to call me. Except something religious, of course, that causes me a bit of a . . . rash." Again he smiled, this time at something that was almost a joke, or so it seemed to Angelica.

Angelica retrieved the battery cables and began tugging the "sled" around in the right direction. Her shoulders and back ached. She was surely going over the edge with exhaustion, but at least this distraction would help keep her mind off of how tired she was, and how cold. Angelica carefully tucked her hair back inside the hood of her coat and pulled it up over her head. She should have brought a tobagon with her, but she hadn't. She also hadn't figured on having to trek into Wilmington on foot either. Once she was headed back in the right direction, Angelica dropped to her knees beside at Bob's head. He was breathing shallowly. As long as he was breathing there was a chance for him.

"Don't worry. It isn't far now," she said. Surprisingly, the words came out in a hopeful tone. Angelica's spirits lifted slightly.

"How do you know?" asked the man now standing beside her.

"Know what?"

"That it isn't far." Angelica leaned into the road and felt the cables become taught. It took several rocking starts before the car-hood sled began moving again.

"I don't suppose you can help?" Angelica began concentrating on walking, one foot in front of the other.

"You mean help you try and save this man's pitiful life? Do you know what he does? He gets his wife's welfare check and spends it on drugs and booze and beats her and his children just for the hell of it. Does it really sound like he needs to live? I'm sure his family wouldn't mind seeing him bite the bullet. It might just be a relief to them."

"I don't know anything about this man. This could be a second chance for him."

"Your optimism is almost refreshing."

"So?"

"It has been a long time since I've come across someone like you."

"Are you going to help me or not. If you're a figment of my imagination you can't, but if you're real you can." He looked at her, obviously amused. One large hand cupped her's and slid the cable from it. Angelica moved aside as he took the other one. He pulled the car hood and man easily, as easily as if he were pulling an empty child's sled in fact.

"I'm not going to help you for long, but, you amuse me, and I would like to carry on our conversation. It has been a while since I have been amused. Most people run from me in terror, before smacking a tree or going into the creek. I've a nice total of one hundred and fifty-four so far in car wrecks and twenty-seven suicides."

"And the insanities?"

"Too numerous to count!" Angelica took some careful steps just to make sure the sled was really moving. What if she had fallen asleep and this was a dream? What if she were lying in the snow somewhere dying of hypothermia? Why would her imagination have her talking to a demon and not an angel?

"So, have you come up with a name for me yet?" Angelica smiled. After a few seconds of quiet contemplation she nodded.

"I think I will call you Tom."

"Tom? That's very generic isn't it! How often do you talk to demons?" This time Angelica chuckled. She was so very tired the entire situation was becoming funny.

"You have a beautiful smile," Tom said softly.

"Thank you."

"And may I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"

Something began to stir in the back of her mind like rusty cogs that hadn't been used in a very long time. She was sure telling a demon your name was a bad thing. Uncle Greg had told her all of the old legends and stories and each time there had been a lesson of some sort. He had been a very superstitious man and tried to share his knowledge with her. But what if you lied to the demon and gave him a false name? Could he do anything to you if he called you by some other name?