Readers' Choice Short Story_ July 2020

Joia

“She lives like tomorrow isn't coming and yesterday never happened.”
― Crystal Woods

 

“Are you sure this is the right place?”

Before the balding old man could respond to his companion’s question, the door to the room opened with the creak of a hinge. Nobody spoke as the three people inside the room stared at the young man who had opened the door. The young man stared back.

“Alright, nobody panic, okay?” The ebony-skinned woman with luminescent eyes and startlingly pale hair began, “We’re not here to hurt anybody-”

At her words the man at the door visibly pulled himself together and straightened himself to his full, not-quite-so impressive height, “Now look here, Miss…I don’t know who-”

“Miss?” The woman repeated in an offended tone, “Did you just call me miss?”

“Oh please, could you go and be an idiot somewhere away from me?” The third member of the party, a tall, dark presence made darker by the shadows around the stranger interrupted, “We are obviously in the wrong place because Joia is not here, unless that is the name of this child. Now if can just get on with business-”

“I’m not Joia.” The younger man blurted, then clamped a hand over his mouth. The other three watched as he tried to regain his courage and straightened up, “Now, tell me who you all are before I call the police,”

“Now look here, boy; there’s no need to panic-” The oldest-looking member of the group, the balding elderly gentleman stepped forward, “We just seek the one called Joia, and” he glanced back at his companions, “I can guarantee that we are not in the wrong place. I don’t know who this child is; but boy,” he turned back to face the young man at the door, “it would be in your best interests to take us to the one we seek.”

The younger man took a hasty step backwards even as he argued, “This is no time to come calling on an old lady. I’ll not let you three hurt her!”

“We mean her no harm-” The balding man in the (now visible) grey suit- obviously the spokesperson of the group; started even as the woman bristled behind him.

“What makes you think you can do anything to us?!”

“Enough with your tantrum, Parafang.” The one in the shadows interrupted his companion with a scoff, “Why don’t you show him your true form while you’re at it- that should silence him quite effectively, I’d suspect.”

“Brilliant idea, Banya!” The woman responded with a smirk, taking a step forward when a dark hand shot out to halt her.

“Are you-?!”

“What’s happening o’er here?” A creaky old voice came from the shadows, silencing everyone. “Billy?”

“Yes, Granny!” The youngest individual in the room responded just as a slightly bent figure shuffled into the room, the tap of a cane filling the pause between her steps. She glanced briefly at the group before letting out a huff and continuing on her way inside the room.

“Trying to rob an old lady?” The newcomer grumbled as she painstakingly made her way to the lone armchair in the middle of the room, “What has the world come to in these days?”

“Ma’am,” The elderly gent stepped forward, gallantly offering her his arm as she lowered herself to the lounger holding pride of place in the room. “We are not robbers.”

“Ah, manners! Good to see that, my gentleman thief.” The woman returned, obviously not believing them and her tongue apparently not dulled with age. “Now, I don’t have anything of much value- maybe a string of pearls is lying somewhere in my drawer upstairs… There is some fine china in that cabinet that might be of interest to you though.” She pointed at the small wooden cupboard across the room.

 “For the last time,” The one hiding in the gloom groused, the shadows once again darkening in that corner as he moved, “We. Are. Not. Thieves! … We are here because we were led to believe that an individual named Joia resides here. We apologise for the inconvenience caused by our presence- we shall be departing now.”

“And why were you asking for me?” The old lady asked.

“You- you’re Joia?”

“In the flesh.” The woman responded smartly. “Now, whom am I addressing?”

“Ah, yes. I’ve been remiss in my manners, my apologies, mi’lady...” The sharply dressed man responded as though on cue. “I’m afraid I cannot reveal the names of my companions but this lady here is a Seraph and the one among the shadows is their master-”

“Well I’ll be- a devil and an angel in my sitting room!” The old lady chuckled, “And you sir, are you human?”

“I am a mage, madam.”

“Do you have a name?”

“Vell, Madam.”

“Pleasure,” She responded with a jovial smirk.

“And you, young sir?” Vell glanced towards the man who had stumbled upon them earlier in the night.

Blank eyes stared back at him without answering.

“Billy?” The old woman called, a laugh in her voice as she watched the youngster’s stupefied reaction.  “Are you there?”

“Physically, yes… Mentally? It’s debatable.”

The woman laughed outright at that.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Billy,”

“It’s William,” The man corrected, finally overcoming his shock at the situation, “And I am her nurse,”

“Ooh, does that mean you have to wear those cute nurse skirts?” The woman… or apparently the angel enquired, eyes sparkling with mischief.

The demon in the shadows grumbled wordlessly at her inane question.

“No, ma’am.” Bill responded, cheeks a dark pink.

“Vell,” The demon spoke again before everybody got distracted again, “Are you sure she can handle the responsibility? It would appear she is… getting on in years.”

“Don’t you dare disrespect me like that again, boy; unless you want me to tear your horns off!” Joia snapped. “I may be old, but I’m not so old yet that I’ve gone senile. Now Vell, what is this responsibility he speaks of?”

“Ooh, I like her,” the angel declared, grinning at her colleague from the literal down under.

“I like her too, doesn’t mean I think she’d the right individual for the job- I mean look at her; she’s already had to sit because she walked from her room to here!”

“Yes, but she’s got spirit.”

“Must everything be an argument between us, Parafang?” The demon sighed.

“No, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to utilise every chance I get to tell you that you’re wrong in all the languages I know… and I know, well, all of them.”

The demon sighed, pulling the shadows closer to himself.

“If I may,” Billy spoke up in the sudden silence, “I shall not allow you to take Granny anywhere I cannot follow- she needs her medication at proper intervals and I do not trust a single one of you to administer it properly.”

“Very well, the four of you are responsible for the quest, then.” Vell responded.

“Four?” Joia asked from her seat, “I count five people in this room, my dear mage. Or are you so old that have lost the ability to count?”

“I’m afraid I shall not be joining you, madam.” Vell answered. “My task was to deliver your envoy to you and I have done that. Now I shall return to my own adventures even if they are only of the literary kind.” And with a deep bow and a sudden sprouting of smoke from around his feet, the older gent had departed from the room.

“Huh,” Joia remarked, “Well, if we’re to do this we’re going to need-”

“A plan?” The demon supplied drily.

“No! Well, yes… but that comes later. … First, we’re going to need codenames.” The woman answered cheerfully, not the least bit intimidated by her supernatural visitors. “I mean, I cannot keep calling you angel and devil now, can I?”

“Oh, I really like her,” The seraph told her shadowy partner conspiratorially, “Such a wonderful change from handling all those teenage hormones, don’t you think?”

“Ah yes, having someone who may collapse and die before fulfilling their destiny as the centre of a prophecy… just the sort of fortune you always hope for,” was the sarcastic response.

“Well?”Joia prompted.

“You can call him Banya, I do.” The seraph answered cheerfully.

“Good,” The old woman agreed, “And you, dear? What should we call you?”

“I heard the dark one call one call her Parafang,” Billy announced to the room, and flinched back when the seraph glared at him.

“Very well, Banya and Parafang. You can call me Granny, most people do-”

“I think we would prefer to stick with Joia.” The demon muttered.

“Up to you,” Joia responded, not affected by his disdain. “So, now… what is it that we have to accomplish?”

“Broker an armistice between two demon factions.”

“And may I ask why? Let them fight, why should we involve ourselves?”

“Their fights have made them to shirk their responsibilities; so many mortals who were meant to die or experience a tragedy are happily going about their lives.” The demon explained, “We have started experiencing a dip in the number of souls.”

“Hmm,” Joia hummed, before turning to the woman with the unnaturally bright hair that framed the top of her head like a halo, “Why are you helping?”

“Heaven has experienced an unnaturally high influx of souls- many among whom were not originally fated to find their way there. It’s making us feel cramped -”

“Not to interrupt, but when are we doing this?” Billy asked suddenly.

“We can depart as soon as you are able, preferably by early morn-”

“I can’t go tomorrow! I have Professor Abella’s lab-”

“You dare suggest delaying the quest for your mortal concerns?” The shadow growled, towering in it’s corner till two pointed curls darkened the ceiling like shadowy horns.

“Oh let him be,” Joia cut in sharply, silencing the shadow and making it shrink back to it’s earlier heights. “Professor Abella class is Billy’s favourite, besides; it counts for one-third of his grade. And he needs to have a decent grade to have any hope in today’s career market. Now, if these factions have been warring for so long and have only recently aroused your need for intervention, waiting another day until the weekend surely cannot do much harm. … Now, does that work for you, Billy?”

“For the record, I still think this is stupid- let them fight amongst themselves and leave us humans be,” Billy responded, holding up a hand before he could be countered, “but I have this weekend off, other than tending to Granny, I mean;  and frankly, I’m tired of studying. So fine, I’ll help y’all.”

“Someone’s got their courage back,” the angel remarked.

“Well, the way I see it, you guys want our help. So it doesn’t make sense for you to harm us.” The young nursing student shrugged.

“Alright, if that’s settled; then let me tell you about what needs to be done; we have to find the door to the realm down under and climb down it’s twenty-thousand steps-”

“Wait!”

The demon sighed but paused obligingly at Bill’s request.

“Is a wheel-chair ramp available for these steps you mention?”

“Of course not!” the demon scoffed, “These are the steps to the infern! Darker than the darkest abyss you can imagine and ringing with the despair of its inmates; the high steps are made of jagged onyx sharper than any knife you’ve seen-”

“Not to interrupt your soliloquy, but nope, not happening.” Billy interrupted, “First off, I don’t know how any safety inspector cleared these stairs of yours; but more importantly, Granny cannot climb down them without a wheelchair.”

“He’s right,” Joia agreed, “My old bones do not have the strength for four steps, let alone twenty-thousand.”

“Are you refusing to fulfil your quest?” The seraph asked, hair turning lighter till it was more like a ring  of light around her head as she straightened to her real height till she towered above everyone in the room.

“Oh calm your halo, parafang,” Joia answered with a dismissive wave, “Just pointing out the flaw in your plan.”

“Very well,” The demon interrupted before his companion could respond, “How do you propose to accomplish the task, then?”

“Summon them,”

“Summon two warring demon factions to your home,” The voice from the shadows repeated drily, “Of course, why didn’t we think of that.”

“Well, the summoning spells have to serve some purpose; don’t they?” Joia returned glibly. “Now, can either of the two of you help me find the appropriate one?”

“Here,” The seraph extended her hand and a roll of parchment materialized, “This should suffice.”

Billy accepted the paper and glanced through it before handing it over to Joia, “It says we need to paint these symbols in ‘red life-force’. Does that- does that mean blood?”

“Not if you don’t want it to,” The old woman returned easily as she read it over herself, “Pulped tomatoes or strawberry or any fruit which yields a red pulp and can be crushed with it’s seeds should suffice,”

“Are you sure that would work?”

“Go be an imbecile somewhere else, Billy. It says life-force. And what are seeds the source of?”

“Life,” Billy answered faintly, eyes wide as he tried to comprehend.

“Well, and if the fruit’s pulp is red, it fulfils the colour requirement. … that means we just need to be meticulous about the pattern.”

And so, Billy  found himself in Joia’s kitchen on Saturday, carefully pouring the pulpy strawberry-raspberry puree on  pastry dough (‘why waste’, the old woman had demanded- ‘we can make pastries once the demons have been summoned’) through Joia’s piping  bag over the rune-like pattern. He had not even straightened the bag and lifted it when their was a sudden gust of wind in the closed space and half a dozen horned creatures were standing there with similar expressions of confusion.

“Oh good, you’re here.” Joia spoke into the ensuing silence, “Why don’t you all be dears and grab some chairs from that stack over there in the corner- I’ve got some shortbread cookies for all of you.”

The demons looked taken aback at the order but seemed more bemused than offended, Billy noted with relief. He placed the dough in the pre-heated oven and pulled down the second platter from the rack to start working on the second pattern to summon the other team. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he heard Joia ordering the demons around in the background.

“You there, with the curly horns; why don’t you be a dear and give me a hand with distributing these cookies- these old legs of mine are not as strong as they once were.”

Billy risked a peak behind himself and felt his eyes widen as he watched Joia lead a massive demon (who looked more like a bent-over Hulk  than anything else) by the curved tip of his horn to the platform where she had set out a tray of shortbread cookies.

“Go on, give them to your friends,” She instructed.

The demon popped a handful into his mouth, got smacked just above his elbow for his trouble ( which was the highest point Joia could reach on him) and sheepishly walked away with the tray to where the other demons had sat.

“Good cookies,” A thin, gaunt-looking demon told Joia, a sentiment which was echoed around the room with various grunts and other affirming sounds.

“I’m glad you like them, dear.” Joia told him with a smile, “You are all welcome to visit me anytime you crave more.”

Confused cheers filled the room, which abruptly turned into angry shouts when half a dozen new demons materialized into the room as Bill finished tracing the second symbol.

“Enough!”

The unexpectedly shrill call had all the demons pausing in surprise.

“This is not an accident, all of you have been called here.”

“By whom?” A deep voice questioned from the group. Billy could not make out who had spoken.

“By me.” Joia answered, meeting their dark gazes headlong and daring them to challenge her. “Billy, would you please get me my chair?”

“Of course!” Billy agreed, as he hurried to the other room, mouthing ‘watch over her’ to the demon and angel hidden among the curios over the pantry cupboard. It only took him a few minutes to return with the heavy arm-chair, but he found the second faction also pulling up seats and settling down by the time he returned.

Once everyone was holding a cookie, Joia began, “Now, I summoned you here because I’ve received complaints that you are not fulfilling your responsibilities.”

Everyone started speaking at once in response and the voices only subsided when Joia tapped her cane on the ground to get their attention. “You are welcome to your fights- I’m not objecting that; but do your job first. Do you have any idea how many souls moved onto heaven because you failed to carry out your job?”

Billy bit back his snicker as he watched the demons shuffle embarrassedly.

“Now I want you to promise me that you’ll set aside your differences and do your job before you fight each other.”

There were low murmurs of accent around the room.

“I’m getting old, fellows; speak up!”

The murmurs were louder this time, and then, “Can I have another cookie?”

“What’s the magic word?”

Billy found himself wondering if Joia had pushed her luck too far this time as stunned silence filled the room.

“Please?” The demon whispered shyly after a beat, releasing the tension that filled the room.

“Very nice, thank you. And yes, you may. … in fact, all of you are welcome to more cookies. And to the pastry once it’s done baking.”

 

After that weekend, Billy would occasionally find a demon or two casually lounging in her kitchen, gorging on the cookies she baked for them when he came to administer Joia’s medication. It used to make him nervous initially, but over time he got used to their presence, partly because they were always incredibly (suspiciously) polite, cleaning up after themselves and being careful not to accidently hurt their favourite pastry chef.

And that is the story of how- two score and three years later, Purgatory got it’s very own (incredibly successful) pastry shop.

 

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Author’s note-

Just a little trivia for those interested in the translations of the Catalan words used in the story:

Parafang translates to ‘wing’,

Banya translates to ‘horn’

Vell means ‘old man’

Infern means ‘Hell’

and Joia stands for ‘jewel’ Catalan and Portuguese as well as  ‘joy’ in French.

 

Voting for August’s story-theme will open on 15^th of July, 2020 and close on the 31^st July, 2020. So if you want a story in the genre of YOUR CHOICE, be sure to vote in the poll for next month’s theme !