Uncle Louie and the Devil

Nellie kicked off her shoes and sailed her good black hat across the room like a Frisbee. Stretching, she felt her neck and back pop as the tension released. It had been a very long day so far. She changed into her sweats and went to put the kettle on for tea, keeping a wary eye out for her cat Fuzz. He loved to thread himself between her legs especially when he’d been alone for several hours. As she filled the kettle, it struck Nellie that she hadn’t seen him since she returned home.

“That’s odd,” she mused to herself, scanning the kitchen. “Fuzzball? Where are you?”

She was searching the living room when the front doorbell rang.

“Come on in…ouch,” she said, banging her head painfully against the coffee table as she straightened up from peering under the couch.

“What on earth are you doing?” said her neighbor Joyce. “Have you lost something?”

“I can’t find Fuzz,” Nellie said, rubbing the painful spot on her head. “It’s really odd for him not to come running when I come home.”

“He’ll show up when he’s ready,” said Joyce, proffering a plate of homemade cookies. “I thought you might enjoy these. Funerals always make me hungry. Who died?”

“How did you know…oh, you saw me leave this morning,” said Nellie.

“You don’t usually go out all dressed in black and wearing a hat. Here, let me pour the tea.”

Nellie took a long drink of tea and sighed in relief.

“It was my Uncle Louie who died.”

Joyce raised her eyebrows.

“Uncle? How old was he? Not to be rude, but you’re not a spring chicken.”

Nellie smiled wryly.

“Not much older than me. He was my grandmother’s surprise baby. Perhaps that explains why he was so spoiled as a child, and so wild when he grew up. Drinking, drugs, prison, the whole nine yards. Then he suddenly reformed about ten years ago and joined some hellfire-and-damnation church. I have spent the last two hours listening to a rant about the end times and how everyone except the members of this church is doomed to the fiery pit.”

“Families are something else, aren’t they,” said Joyce. She wrinkled her nose and sniffed.

“Is it just me or does something smell off in here? Like rotten eggs or drains?”

Nellie frowned.

“I probably forgot to take the garbage out this morning.”

Joyce glanced at her watch.

“Darn, I’m late. Doctor’s appointment. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She rushed off and the front door slammed behind her.

The smell seemed stronger now. Nellie tied up the kitchen garbage bag and took it outside to the trashcan. She was locking the back door behind her when a male voice made her jump. She shrieked as she saw a tall man sitting at the kitchen counter.

“How did you get in here?”

He smiled politely, raising a finger to his lips. Nellie clamped her hands over her mouth in panic, frantically recalling every true crime documentary she had ever watched.

“Calm, keep calm,” she muttered to herself.

He was handsome and trim, with dark, slicked-back hair, wearing an expensive, well-tailored suit. He ran a finger under his collar as if it chafed him. Nellie noticed that the skin on his neck seemed red and scaly as if a sunburn was peeling. The sulfurous smell was so strong now that she almost gagged.

“Please do not be alarmed,” he said in a deep and raspy voice. “I will not hurt you. I need your help.”

“Who are you?” croaked Nellie, suddenly feeling less afraid.

She cautiously sat down at the other end of the counter.

“I am known by various names. Lucifer, Beelzebub, Old Nick, Satan. I prefer Lucifer.”

“You...you think you’re the Devil?” said Nellie, eyes widening and voice trembling.

This was worse than she expected.

“I am the Devil,” the man said firmly. “A fallen Angel. That’s another story right there.”

“What do you want with me? I’ve never even had a parking ticket. I lead the most boring life you can imagine here with my cat Fuzz and I’m not ready to go.”

He smiled charmingly.

“I am not here for you. Your Uncle Louie arrived in my domain this morning and he is proving most troublesome.”

“I don’t understand,” said Nellie. “According to that pastor at the funeral, Louie had repented and was going to heaven. How did he end up in the fiery pit or whatever you have down there?”

Lucifer shook his head sadly.

“Fiery pit indeed. Tales to scare children. Theologically…oh, never mind. It would take too long to explain. There are so many versions of heaven and hell with all these different churches and denominations and religions that mix-ups are bound to happen. Perhaps Louie forgot to repent for something, or he followed the wrong directions and got lost. All I know is that he ended up in my realm. He keeps spouting religious dogma at all the other residents and they’re getting very tired of it. Some pretty ugly customers end up with me. It’s hard enough to maintain order without someone Bible thumping all day long. It's supposed to be a place of torment, but there are limits.”

“Louie always was his own worst enemy,” said Nellie. “The family members who weren't estranged because of his criminal behavior were driven off by the preaching after he converted to that church. But what can I do about it?”

Lucifer shrugged and shifted his position. His collar seemed to be bothering him more than ever.

“You can take your tie off if you want,” said Nellie. “We don’t have to be formal.”

“Thank you,” he said, gratefully undoing his top button. “I had to adjust my appearance to be here. I didn’t want to scare you, but it’s hard to hide the scales and tail.”

Nellie noticed in horrified fascination that he did indeed have a long forked tail.

“Anyway, I spoke to the admitting department of Heaven and they’re willing to take him, but they want evidence that he has done at least one good deed on this earth. Can you tell me anything? He said that you two were close at one time.”

Nellie smiled fondly in reminiscence.

“We were. He seemed very cool and glamorous to me when we were young. Black leather jackets, sports car, the teenage rebel. When he started getting in trouble, I wasn’t allowed to spend time with him anymore. Wait, now I remember something.”

She paced the kitchen floor.

“There was a horrible man in our neighborhood who mistreated his dog. The poor thing was half-starved and abused. Louie finally confronted the man and took the dog. He threatened to beat the man to a pulp if he did anything about it. He nursed that dog back to health and had him as a pet for years. Would that count?”

Lucifer blinked and raised his eyebrows.

“Well, threatening violence might not be the best, even if it was in a good cause. Anything else?”

“He was very protective of me. I didn’t always appreciate it. He scared off all the boys for miles around. Nobody dared to ask me out. Luckily my late husband Dwight passed muster with Louie or I might never have gotten married.”

Lucifer sighed and shrugged.

“That will have to do. I will also mention that you were the only one of the family who kept in touch with him, so he must have inspired some fond feelings. He appreciated you attending the funeral.”

Nellie suddenly burst into the tears she had not shed at the funeral, mourning the way her uncle’s life had turned out. Lucifer looked alarmed and hastily pushed a box of tissues in her direction. She sniffled and wiped her eyes.

“Tell him I will never forget him. Try to get him into Heaven, please.”

Lucifer solemnly nodded and stood up, seeming to fill the room. He bowed slightly in Nellie’s direction and disappeared in a sudden flash of light and smoke. Coughing, Nellie rushed to open the windows and doors. Frantically flapping a towel to dispel the fumes, she almost tripped over Fuzz who had suddenly appeared and was rubbing against her legs. Nellie scooped him up and hugged him.

“I know why you were hiding, but don’t scare me like that again.”

Fuzz squirmed free and headed for his food dish, twitching his tail indignantly.

Nellie suddenly heard Joyce's voice outside.

"Nellie, are you okay? I saw smoke coming from your window."

Nellie opened the door to her.

"I burned something on the stove. Too preoccupied to pay attention, I guess. But at least I think Louie will rest in peace. Let's have a glass of wine and toast his memory. The old rascal would appreciate that."