Practical Demonkeeping

dangled between her breasts on a silver chain.
    “I’m miserable,” Robert said. “Thanks for asking, Ms. Henderson.”
    “My friends call me Rachel.”
    “Okay. I’m miserable, Ms. Henderson.”
    Rachel was thirty-five but she could have passed for twenty if it weren’t for the arrogant sensuality with which she moved and the mocking smile in her eyes that evinced experience, confidence, and guile beyond any twenty-year-old. Her body did not betray her age; it was her manner. She went through men like water.
    Robert had known her for years, but her presence never failed to awaken in him a feeling that his marital fidelity was nothing more than an absurd notion. In retrospect, perhaps it was. Still, she made him feel uneasy.
    “I’m not your enemy, Robert. No matter what you think. Jenny has been thinking about leaving you for a long time. We didn’t have anything to do with it.”
    “How are things with the coven?” Robert asked sarcastically.
    “It’s not a coven. The Pagan Vegetarians for Peace are dedicated to Earth consciousness, both spiritual and physical.”
    Robert drained his fifth beer and slammed the mug down on the bar. “The Pagan Vegetarians for Peace are a group of bitter, ball-biting, man haters, dedicated to breaking up marriages and turning men into toads.”
    “That’s not true and you know it.”
    “What I know,” Robert said, “is that within a year of joining, every woman in your coven has divorced her husband. I was against Jenny getting into this mumbo jumbo from the beginning. I told her you would brainwash her and you have.”
    Rachel reared back on the bar stool like a hissing cat. “You believe what you want to believe, Robert. I show women the Goddess within. I put them in touch with their own personal power; what they do with it is their own business. We aren’t against men. Men just can’t stand to see a woman discover herself. Maybe if you’d exalted Jenny’s growth instead of criticizing, she’d still be around.”
    Robert turned away from her and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror behind the bar. He was overcome by a wave of self-loathing. She was right. He covered his face with his hands and leaned forward on the bar.
    “Look, I didn’t come here to fight with you,” Rachel said. “I saw your truck outside and I thought you might be able to use a little money. I have some work for you. It might take your mind off the hurt.”
    “What?” Robert said through his hands.
    “We’re sponsoring the annual tofu sculpture contest at the park this year. We need someone to take pictures for the poster and the press package. I know you’re broke, Robert.”
    “No,” he said, without looking up.
    “Fine. Suit yourself.” Rachel slid off the stood and started to leave.
    Mavis sat another beer in front of Robert and counted his money on the bar. “Very smooth,” she said. “You’ve got four bucks left to your name.”
    Robert looked up. Rachel was almost to the door. “Rachel!”
    She turned and waited, an elegant hand on an exquisite hip.
    “I’m staying at The Breeze’s trailer.” He told her the phone number. “Call me, okay?”
    Rachel smiled. “Okay, Robert, I’ll call.” She turned to walk out.
    Robert called out to her again. “You haven’t seen The Breeze, have you?”
    Rachel grimaced. “Robert, just being in the same room with The Breeze makes me want to take a bath in bleach.”
    “Come on, he’s a fun guy.”
    “He’s a fun- gus ,” Rachel said.
    “But have you seen him?”
    “No.”
    “Thanks,” he said. “Call me.”
    “I will.” She turned and walked out. When she opened the door, light spilling in blinded Robert. When his vision returned, a little man in a red stocking cap was sitting next to him. He hadn’t seen him come in.
    To Mavis the little man said, “Could I trouble you for a small quantity of salt?”
    “How about a margarita with extra salt, handsome?” Mavis batted her spider-lashes.
    “Yes, that will be good. Thank you.”
    Robert looked the little man over for a moment, then turned away to watch the pool game while he contemplated his destiny. Maybe this job for Rachel was his way out. Strange, though, things didn’t seem to be bad enough yet. And the idea that Rachel could be his fairy godmother in disguise made him smile. No, the downward spiral to salvation was going quite nicely. The Breeze was missing. The rent was due. He had made enemies with a crazed Mexican drug dealer, and it