Don’t Yawn with your Mouth Open, Part 1

Nothing extremely disturbing today. Thank goodness.

She locked the front door, and then leaned against it letting out a breath she’d been holding. She wasn’t sure if she’d have made it back to the house if he’d called out to her, but he didn’t.

She just hoped he’d listen to her and go straight to the airport. She didn’t know precisely what the demon had done this time, but she knew it wouldn’t have been good.

It would get her grandson the death penalty she was sure.

The problem with fighting on the side of good is that good and moral and legal were often three different things that didn’t always agree with one another. She’d never cared for the comic books her son grew up reading–everything was black and white with no shades of gray. But she’d looked through some of the comics her granddaughter and found those more to her liking. OK, she could have done without the angst, but the stories were good–were real.

She slowly walked over to the sofa and then collapsed onto it. She opened her laptop, and the security camera showed David slowly walking to his car.

She’d put a suitcase in the passenger’s seat, where he couldn’t miss it, and had stuck some money in the envelope so he could get something to eat at the airport–assuming he had any appetite. Her Marco had taken months before he could go a day without his memories making him sick.

She closed her eyes, trying to remind herself that he was Stella’s problem now. Assuming he was smart enough to listen to her and get his ass on that flight.

After watching him drive away, the closed her laptop and got down to what she’d been wanting to do for hours and hours–cursing her son for marrying that vain, bird-brained woman. Vella didn’t like that her mother-in-law was “ethic” and didn’t like her children to spend much time at their grandmother’s house.

Once again Maria wondered why she hadn’t killed the woman years ago. Then reminded herself that Mark loved her, and despite everything, Vella did love Mark and the kids.

Maria reached to pick up her phone, and then reached back, closing her eyes. She was getting too old for this–truly she was. But her daughter was dead, and her granddaughter still not ready to take the mantle, so until then she’d stay at it.

She woke up to the key in the door. The wards showed it was Constance, her granddaughter.

“Gramma! We’re you sleeping? In the middle of the day?” Constance’s voice was both teasing and incredulous.

“When you get old like me, you’ll like a nap in the day!” She kissed her granddaughter affectionately on both cheeks as she came over, then she impulsively hugged her.

When she was released, Constance pulled back in alarm. “What’s wrong, Gramma? What’s happened?”

“Have a seat Con,”she replied. “We have a lot to discuss.”

Constance was pale by the time Maria had finished, but remained composed.

“Do you know what he did, while he was possessed?” she asked.

“I know not the specifics, I know only that it was horrible, and that people died at David’s hands, even if it was not him controlling them. Your grandfather would not talk about what happened to him, but nightmares he would have–horrible.”

“Do you think he went to Aunt Stella?”

“We can hope so. If he remains here…” There was no sense telling Con what she already knew. It was just hurt both of them: Her to say it and Constance to hear it.

“Alright,” she said getting up from the sofa, “training time.”

“Are you up to it Gramma? I mean, you banished them demon all by yourself?”

“Oh I didn’t banish it,” she said. “It’s in a lead bottle. We shall encase it in cement, then I think it would be good to drop it where they are making those new coral reefs, yes?”

“Sounds good to me,” Con said.

“Good. Then you can mix the cement for me.”