BETTING CHERYL
Perhaps it might be better if I stopped reading these selections of C.S. Lewis writing from the point of view of a devil. They're entirely too good. Good like cake! (I only wish these margins were wider.)
BETTING CHERYL
“Satan, the leader or dictator of devils, is the opposite, not of God, but of Michael.” C.S. Lewis
He said he’d see my fatted calf and raise me one vase filled with coconut oil.
I knew which vase he referred to. He hadn’t used it since the first magician died.
You giggled the words: I swear, I’m a virgin! and I told you to shut it, Cheryl,
this no longer concerned you, though everyone at the table knew very well it did.
He wasn’t bluffing. His wife, at least I think she’s his wife, smiled at him
and he cut thoughtfully into his salmon filet. If he’d been bluffing
he would’ve ordered steak like that time he told me no one ever dies.
This wife of his had her larynx removed when she was just a girl. I heard it was voluntary.
She smiles a lot and it freaks me out. Oh, honey, you said, I love coconut oil!
I wanted to throw you in the river with your wrists tied to your ankles,
but you’d never have your larynx removed on purpose which means your vanity is intact.
It only prolongs your loss to bet higher, he said, swallowing.
He ate the parsley too. What’s sick is how he grinned at you the whole time,
like he was trying to imagine what was in your purse, like he already knew.
But I do know, he said, laughing. He laughs like a mule and gambles like one too.
I didn’t even see a waitress but I yelled for more water. This was getting old.
I raised him again, this time betting all the blue in your eyes. You gaped at his wife
and said, isn’t that sweet! but I ignored you, offered to blow it gently from your head
right then and there, like dust off a fishbowl.
...
BETTING CHERYL
“Satan, the leader or dictator of devils, is the opposite, not of God, but of Michael.” C.S. Lewis
He said he’d see my fatted calf and raise me one vase filled with coconut oil.
I knew which vase he referred to. He hadn’t used it since the first magician died.
You giggled the words: I swear, I’m a virgin! and I told you to shut it, Cheryl,
this no longer concerned you, though everyone at the table knew very well it did.
He wasn’t bluffing. His wife, at least I think she’s his wife, smiled at him
and he cut thoughtfully into his salmon filet. If he’d been bluffing
he would’ve ordered steak like that time he told me no one ever dies.
This wife of his had her larynx removed when she was just a girl. I heard it was voluntary.
She smiles a lot and it freaks me out. Oh, honey, you said, I love coconut oil!
I wanted to throw you in the river with your wrists tied to your ankles,
but you’d never have your larynx removed on purpose which means your vanity is intact.
It only prolongs your loss to bet higher, he said, swallowing.
He ate the parsley too. What’s sick is how he grinned at you the whole time,
like he was trying to imagine what was in your purse, like he already knew.
But I do know, he said, laughing. He laughs like a mule and gambles like one too.
I didn’t even see a waitress but I yelled for more water. This was getting old.
I raised him again, this time betting all the blue in your eyes. You gaped at his wife
and said, isn’t that sweet! but I ignored you, offered to blow it gently from your head
right then and there, like dust off a fishbowl.
...
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