Late September, 1994

The two devils were surprised that I could see them, as was I.

I was on an errand for Hal, picking up candy and cigarettes for him, even though it was against doctor’s orders, common sense, and over my own objections, as he’d just lost a kidney to cancer. If he dropped his vices, the doctors gave him two to three years, but if he continued his normal behaviors, the doctors gave him a year, or less. "I will live and die how I fucking want." He’d say. "If I could, I’d die by the pool with a cigarette in one hand, a drink in the other, chocolate on the table, with my pool boy in sight." I couldn’t argue with him. He’d made up his mind.

He would give me a list of carcinogenic, crappy foodstuffs and tabloids to pick up from Ekhard Drug, Fausto’s Food Palace, or the liquor store, and I’d go get them. The list included the healthy Stoli Vodka, if he was out (He drank much less after his kidney, but did not stop.), cigarettes, of course, Whitman Chocolates, anything Hostess or Little Debbie, Ruffles, cocktail onions (He loved Gibsons.), Snickers, "People," "US," or "The Star." All purchases were always along those lines. I figured he didn’t have too much time left anyway, so I would retrieve what he requested.

On this particular day, I biked to Ekhard Drug on Truman, just off Duval. Pedaling, lost in some tangent, I was attentive enough to be safe, but not much more. I looked up as they were biking towards me, everyday life slowing to one-tenth of normal. As we crossed paths, the three of us staring at the other, the shock of recognition etched on my face, surely while they work the surprised faces of unexpected exposure. Somehow, some way, I saw the demons for what they were. A rather unexpected turn of events, as I biked toward my desired destination.

The dominant devil, the Master, whatever he was, was a dark-skinned black man, very muscular, coldly handsome, and adorned with gold jewelry. His Lieutenant was smaller, almost platinum blond, flat topped, pale skin, also wearing too much gold, and pedaling just behind. The look of disbelief must have registered across my face, as it was reflected by them both, coming towards me, then passing slowly, our heads turning toward the other(s), our mutual awareness, evident.
How did I know this? How could I see them for what they were? The awareness, this recognition, was un-wanted and terrifying. I averted my eyes and began pedaling faster while time then sped past its standard chronology, my breathing faster, pulse racing, completely freaked by the encounter. I didn’t look back until I was at the intersection of Duval and Truman. They had turned around and were following me.

Ekhard Drug was not too far away, so I continued on, quickly, and cruised into the parking lot, locked my bike, and walked directly to the entrance. I turned around once again and saw them across the street, staring at me, exchanging words, standing, but still on their bikes, wearing curious expressions on their evil countenances. I turned and went inside, sweating, unsure of my next move, unsure, at that point, why I was even there. I walked the aisles, pores open, wet, as scared as I’ve ever been, grabbing items from Hal’s list, placing them in my basket, forming a plan. I slowed myself down, breathing through my nose, and thought of who I might call, what I might say, to get some tangible help without being restrained or mistaken for a mental patient, of which, I wasn’t sure I shouldn’t be. No one to call. I’m on my own.

I loitered a bit in the store, hoping they’d become bored and leave, or if it were my imagination, my brain would have dissipated them by now. I began to breathe a bit easier, slower, calming and cooling, assuring myself that yes, this was all in my head, and that, whatever it was, wasn’t what I thought it was. By the time I checked out, I was almost calm. I went back outside and there they were, still across the street, waiting for me. Oh..no.. I thought, beginning to shake.
The events passed more quickly again. I became very directed, unlocking my bike, heading through the parking lot, towards them, turning left, then past them, pedaling faster, aware that they began to move behind me. Is this happening? Why is this happening?

I crossed the street, jumped off my bike, opened the gate, groceries on my left arm, and ran down the boardwalk, up the steps, my bike held off my right shoulder, into the apartment, not looking back. Hal was rather taken aback by my entrance, and I was reticent to tell him what happened, but then I did, only interrupting every few moments to say I hoped he didn’t think I was crazy. He then told me about his own encounter with death or a demon, in the form of a taxi driver in New York City. He believed what I had to say, based on that experience from his past.

I saw the devils two more times that week, un-observed, from a distance. If they saw me, they did not acknowledge it. They were always on their bikes, talking to the other from a close distance. Their energy was dark, held close to their person(s), ringed tightly around them.

Something is happening within me. Is this, was this, real?