Asmodeus opened his eyes as he heard squeaking shoe noises approach. A large woman pushing a metal trolley entered.
‘Hello, my dears,’ she said joyously. ‘Is everybody hungry?’ Smiling she addressed the room. Her forehead wrinkled as she saw Pyriel.
‘I’m sorry my dear. Nothing for you yet. But hopefully soon. When you’re feeling better,’ she said with a sympathetic smile toward Pyriel. She turned her attention back to the trolley, bent down and slid out a tray. Continuing her sanguine smile, she walked toward Asmodeus holding the tray.
‘Here you go, my dear. Nutritious and delicious, as my old Nan used to say.’ She placed the tray onto Asmodeus’s over bed shelf.
Apart from his new friendship with Bob, being human so far had only brought pain, suffering and misery. All things hell has in abundance. This was the one thing he had been looking forward to. Food. For the first time ever, he would be able to really taste food.
Food had been its own type of torture for him over the centuries. Walking among humans in various countries, two things had always stood out for him: Food and fashion. Places like Japan or India had been the worst. Walking about, surrounded by countless varieties of cuisine and mouth-watering aromas had often become unbearable. No matter how many dishes they tried, nothing had flavour. He had appreciated how different food textures had felt, but the taste had always remained bland. Like cardboard.
Was today going to be first day of many unforgettable culinary experiences? Rubbing his hands together in excitement he thought about his partner in crime, Pyriel.
Oh well, tough shit. I will just have to describe it to her in as much detail as possible. He chuckled to himself.
‘Bon appetite,’ said the lady cheerfully as she turned and left with her trolley. Asmodeus began inspecting the offerings. A brown plastic lid covered plate formed the centrepiece of the tray. Several smaller bowls appeared to orbit around it. A white, disposable napkin lay on the side with some cutlery. A brown speckled, yellowish curved thing had been plonked to one side as if in afterthought.
The larger of the two-bowls was filled with a verdant looking, sloppy goo. Picking it up carefully, Asmodeus brought the bowl closer. He sniffed the content. It had a faint odour. Not unpleasant. He replaced the bowl and lifted the lid.
What’s this? Asmodeus wondered. The plating did not inspire. An off-white ball shaped object dominated the plate. Surrounded by brown fleshy chunks. A grey speckled goop had been ladled across the centre. Shrugging, Asmodeus put the lid aside. The second of the smaller bowls contained two white balls that appeared to be shrinking, melting into a liquid. Better get to those quickly, he thought. What was it the woman said? “Nutritious and delicious?” And people say demons are liars.
Using his left hand, Asmodeus picked up the spoon. It was cold and felt unnatural. After careful consideration he prodded the whitish ball. It was firm, but the spoon penetrated it without effort. He twisted the spoon and broke a piece of. It fitted comfortably on the spoon. Cautiously he gave the piece another sniff before putting it into his mouth. It was warm, soft in texture but tasteless. Bland, without distinct flavour, like everything he had ever eaten before. Not the greatest start but he continued bravely. Asmodeus continued eating. The other whitish stuff was slimy and cold while the grey goop was lumpy and tasted terrible. So far, he was not enjoying this food concept but knowing his body needed food to survive, he soldiered on.
With the content of the plate demolished, he turned his attention to the other two bowls. After a taste of the green, slimy looking liquid, he decided that he’d rather take his chances with starvation. However, the soft white balls were great. Cold and sweet, with a velvety texture. He would have more of that.
Finally, there was that funny, squidgy, yellow thing. It was firm but smelled sweet and pleasant. As Asmodeus bit into what he thought could be the top, creamy white stuff started oozing out of the yellow outer packaging. Hmm, that’s nice. Weird but good, he thought while giving another squeeze and already feeling better about food.
***
Relishing the remaining sweet taste of the squidgy yellow thing, Asmodeus starred at the tray. The hollow feeling in his gut had subsided, but he was left wanting. Unsatisfied, he pushed the call button. Moments later squeaky shoe noises became louder, and a little nurse appeared next to his bed, smiling.
‘How can I help you?’
‘Umm, I was wondering if you had any more of that white stuff’. Asmodeus pointed at the bowl which still had some white liquid. ‘And if you’ve got another of these yellow things, I’d really like another.’ The nurse inspected the bowl and the mutilated yellow object.
‘What happened to this poor little fellow?’ she asked, pointing at the mangled yellow object with teeth marks. ‘Did you not peel the Banana because of your hand’? she asked glancing at Asmodeus’s cast. Asmodeus, having no idea what peeling was, nodded. ‘OK, I’ll see what I can do for you,’ she said smiling and walked out.
Asmodeus lay back and sighed. The past forty-eight-hours had been a gut twisting roller-coaster ride with more twists and emotional turmoil than he had ever thought possible. As far as punishments went, he couldn’t think of much worse than to lie here with only his thoughts for company. Loneliness, boredom, depression, and the incessant need to pee were taking their toll on him. Left to his own devices was also becoming increasingly dangerous for him and the nurses.
He had heard humans speak about time. Some had said that time is perceptive, having the ability to fly by in an instant. He had never understood that concept or opinion. Others said that mere minutes could feel like hours if one worked in the retail industry. Another mysterious construct. Now, lying here, without Whiskey, bikers to infuriate, or Pyriel to torment, he had to admit, it was its own, unique type of hell. Time, a formidable adversary, had become his enemy, and all he had was time. Even watching old westerns on TV had lost some of its appeal. Attempting to be optimistic, he thought about Bob, his new bestie. Even though conversations with Bob were one sided and mostly ended with Bob lying lifelessly on his thigh. Bob was still a friend. A friend with squidgy companions.
His eyes wandered across to where Pyriel lay sleeping. How pale and lifeless she looked. He recalled the ancient Japanese culture of the Samurai. Warrior’s, devoid of a master were known as Rōnin. Wanderers of the land, without home or purpose. Pyriel was Rōnin, but to him she was so much more. She was a friend, a confidant. Fearless, brave, and even though she brought out the worst in him, he missed her all the same. She was the yin to his yang. Never had he experienced emotions like this. He shivered as a blanket of loneliness covered him and a fear, the same type a small child feels when darkness descends and strange noises emanate from the old corner closet, manifested in his stomach.
The nurse returned with a full bowl of the cold white stuff and another two bananas. A welcome distraction, Asmodeus thought.
The nurse placed the bowl and Bananas on the tray. ‘Here you go, this should keep you out of mischief for a little while,’ she said, smiling. ‘Would you like me to peel one of these?’ She was holding up one of the Banana’s. Asmodeus, having wasted no time in attacking the cold white stuff, nodded. With a quick flick of her wrist, holding onto what he now understood to be the top, the nurse broke the banana’s skin. She peeled it back halfway before offering it to Asmodeus who thanked her and now understood what she had meant by peeling.
Oh, that’s much better, he thought as he bit into the fleshy Banana, grinning from ear to ear. With the banana devoured, he returned his attention back to the cold stuff which he began to shovel into his mouth as fast as his arms allowed. Then it happened.
Asmodeus froze. The spoon, heaped with white stuff, halfway to his mouth. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open. The nurse tilted her head to one side with an expression of mild curiosity and intrigue.
He could feel the sweet cold stuff drip from his teeth onto his lips and begin to run down his chin as his face contorted. He dropped the spoon and grabbed his head,
‘Ahh, what the… My head’s about to explode,’ he shouted, thrashing about wildly. ‘Please, nurse, help…arrrgggghhh.’ Failing to keep a professional composure, the nurse burst out laughing. Holding her hand in front of her mouth, she doubled over with laughter while Asmodeus, still holding his head, his face bathed in agony, gave her pleading, confused glances. Why’s she laughing and not helping me? Is this punishment for all the times I laughed at others and their misfortunes? he thought. His head continued to pound as if being punched repeatedly from the inside by The Hulk, trying to escape.
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The nurse had stopped snorting. Still doubled over, she was panting with her hand pressed to her chest.
‘Don’t worry, it’s only a brain freeze, it’ll pass soon,’ she chuckled as she wiped the tears out of her eye. Some of the pain had subsided in Asmodeus’s head. Experimentally, he shook his head gingerly while giving the nurse a puzzled stare.
‘What the hell is brain freeze’? he asked, relived as the last of the pain dulled before disappearing completely. The nurse, still grinning from ear to ear, replied.
‘It’s a nerve pain caused by blood vessels contracting and releasing very quickly. It’s often caused by eating or drinking something cold too fast, like ice cream.’ The nurse pointed at the bowl with the white stuff. She had finally regained full control of herself. Only a friendly smile remained. Asmodeus felt more confused than ever.
Blood doing what? Man, it felt like I was being poked by red hot pokers like they use back home. No wonder people aren’t afraid of hell, this is much worse, he thought. Now frightened of how many more booby-trapped unknows may still be luring in the darkness of his new future. All waiting patiently for the perfect opportunity to pounce and reap havoc on his new body.
‘OK, got it. Ice cream! Eat slowly,’ Asmodeus said solemnly. The nurse smiled as she nodded. ‘Hey, no comment from the peanut gallery,’ Asmodeus shouted across the room toward Pyriel who was making croaking and choking noises.
***
Hearing squeaking shoes, Asmodeus perked up. A nurse was on his or her way. He appreciated how helpful and tolerant they had become. They had probably concluded that getting mad or angry at him was futile, he thought. He had overheard a conversation between two nurses where he had been described as “trying”. Furthermore, the advice was to treat Asmodeus as he behaved. Like a five-year-old toddler. Instead of feeling offended he had just smiled.
They’re talking about me. That means they must like me. I feel so loved.
Nurse Isabella appeared. Asmodeus cringed.
‘Good morning my lovelies,’ she said joyously.
‘It was OK until you came in,’ Asmodeus muttered under his breath.
Nurse Isabella had described to him in storybook detail how she and her three kids had escaped Cuba. How she loved quoting her motto: A bad day in America is still better than a good day back home. He hated that Nurse Isabella was always in a good mood. And being a grandmother to an ever-increasing brood, she knew just how to handle him. With no mercy. She opened the curtains. It was a dreary cold and wet day. Asmodeus, testing the Ostrich theory, “if I can’t see them, they can’t see me”, pulled the covers over his head. He liked Isabella, but she reminded him of Pyriel. In her mannerism and the way she kept telling him off. A demon intimidated by a human, what’s this world coming to? he had wondered.
‘So how are we today detective?’ Isabella asked as she stood next to Asmodeus’s bed with a big smile. As she leant over to fluff up his pillows she pulled back forcefully. Her smile disappeared and her nose wrinkled as her face soured. ‘Detective Swine, you smell way past your best’, she remarked loudly. ‘When last did you have a shower and gave ALL the essentials a good scrubbing?’ There was that tone again, he thought. Pyriel 2.0. The same way as she would speak to him. However, this time he could not argue. There were many things he had learned about human anatomy. Like that a body starts decomposing the moment the heart stops and how badly a decomposing body can smell in just a few hours if exposed to high heat and humidity. What he had not known was how awful a living body could smell. Like the first time his stomach made a strange gurgling noise. The sound had been accompanied by an urge to push. Not knowing any different, he had pushed. A strange noise had accompanied the weird reverberating sensation in his bum. All seemed well until he lifted the sheet. The pungent, sour smell that hit him almost took his breath away. Worried that something had gone terribly wrong he had called the nurse. The nurse, after gagging and scampering to safety, enlightened him about the human phenomenon known as flatulence. Later, having decided not to heed the nurse’s warning about pushing too hard, Asmodeus experienced what was later explained to him as “the follow through”. Both he and the nurse vowed never to speak of either incident again. However, lying here, with a poignant rancid odour violating his nostrils every time he lifted his arms, he could not deny that something had to be done.
‘Um—.’ Asmodeus had discovered that the nurses thrived on patient ignorance and confusion. He had both. In endless supply according them. But what they did not know was that he had a new secret weapon, and he was not afraid to use it. With raised eyebrows, creased forehead, he looked up at Nurse Isabelle with his hazel-coloured eyes stretched wide and puckered lips. He called it his puppy dog expression which, if he applied it correctly, made most nurses go weak at the knees.
Nurse Isabella stood upright with her hands dug deep into her sides. Here it comes, thought Asmodeus as Nurse Isabella opened her mouth and let loose her boom box.
‘Well then, since you clearly can’t remember, I can only assume that it’s high time that we re-acquaint you with the whole water and soap concept. A phenomenon we also like to call: A shower around here,’ nurse Isabella announced sternly. Asmodeus, felt an onslaught of mild panic rise within his body. He shrieked as she whipped off his sheets in a single tug. Holding a pearly white bath towel in her hand, she gave him a stern look. ‘Well, c’mon then, it’s shower time,’ she announced firmly as she pointed toward the closed door on the opposite side of the room.
Water? Soap? What happens if I start melting or things start falling off? I need this body. I can’t just trade it in and get another. Oh, shit what do I do now? Panic stricken, Asmodeus he felt cold shivers running up and down his spine as his paranoia went into overdrive.
‘Detective Swine,’ Nurse Isabella’s roar echoed off the room walls and into the hallway. ‘I can assure you that you have nothing that I have not seen thousands of times before or would make me blush. Now, get your skinny white ass off that bed and report to the shower, on the double.’
Asmodeus could hear laughter exude from the nurse’s station. He pictured men, women, and children cowering in fear before nurse Isabella’s boom box. Asmodeus pushed through the pain as he scrambled off the bed as fast as he could. There had been rumours in hell. Whispers uttered only in dark shadows. Describing exceptional circumstances where Hell rejected souls. He had never known why, believing the aphorism “Heaven doesn’t want me, and Hell is afraid I’ll take over” was a mere joke; until now.
Nurse Isabella, still glaring at him with a thunderous expression, handed Asmodeus the towel. Still cowering under her watchful eye, clutching his towel for comfort, Asmodeus shuffled along toward the door.
From all his time spent at the hospital, Asmodeus knew that no-one looks good in a hospital gown. However, the fact that they do not close in the back had never occurred to him as a flaw. He heard the thunderous cracking noise a mere split second before feeling a sharp, stinging pain in his derriere. The sound and pain were closely followed by nurse Isabella’s booming voice.
‘GET A MOVE ON.’
Even with his chest, and now ass on fire, he still managed a smile when he heard nurse Isabella’s stern voice adding.
‘And you Missy, you’re lucky that you are attached to those machines. Even with your sponge baths you don’t smell of roses.’ Several grunting and snorting noises emanated from Pyriel’s direction.
Nurse Isabella turned on the water while Asmodeus took off his gown. Desperately trying to avoid any further encouragement, Asmodeus hopped obediently into the shower.
‘Here’s some soap’, said the nurse. She handed the traumatised Asmodeus a green cake of soap. ‘Now make sure your junk down there gets a good scrub and that you wash behind your ears.’ Too frightened to disobey, Asmodeus began to rub the soap gingerly over his body.
Hmm, this is quite nice, he thought as he lathered up the armpits, his ears and very gently, his chest. Why do I suddenly feel the urge to sing? he wondered as the warm water flowed over his skin, feeling prickly and rejuvenating.
‘Here, hold out your hands,’ nurse Isabella commanded. Obliging, Asmodeus held out his hands into which Nurse Isabella poured some yellow liquid from a bottle.
‘And now?’ Asmodeus squinted.
‘Put it on your hair and rub it in. And you rub it in good. You hear?’
‘OK.’ Obediently Asmodeus placed his hands on his head and began rubbing. Ooh, that feels good, he thought as the shampoo began to lather and his fingers intertwined, rubbing, and massaging his scalp.
What the hell…? Standing butt naked, frozen in place, with soap streaming down his face and body, Asmodeus let out a blood-curdling scream. Jumping up and down in place, he began to flap his elbows while rubbing his eyes and shouting:
‘My eyes. Help me. My eyes are on fire, help— please— help!’ His shouts reduced to yelps and finally, muffled whimpers
Laughing loudly, nurse Isabella handed Asmodeus the towel.
Having cleaned the soap out of his eyes, Asmodeus carefully opened his puffy, bloodshot eyes. Squinting he tried to focus on, one, two…six nurses stood staring at him with skirmish, evil grins.
Standing butt naked. Covered in soap. Eyes burning to kingdom come. He could not help but wonder if this was payback for all the times, he had called them, out of pure boredom, asking things like:
“What colour underwear are you wearing?” or “Do you wipe front-to-back or back-to-front.” Some had threatened but so far, no additional physical harm had come to him, yet.
Then it dawned on him. They had all come out of concern for him. Concern for his wellbeing. Overwhelmed by a flood of love and appreciation, Asmodeus extended his soapy arms and began walking forward, shouting:
‘Ahh People. Thank you. Thank you so much for rushing over to help little old me. Get over here…GROUP HUG!!!’
With his arms still outstretched, Asmodeus stood starring with incredulity. He had just witnessed six nurses escape the bathroom, simultaneously, through a standard doorway.
‘Hey, what about my hug?’ Dripping with water and soap, Asmodeus waddled out of the bathroom into a deserted room. His feet and body leaving behind wet footprints and puddles. The sound of screaming nurses and squeaking shoes faded into the distance. He ignored the grunting noises that emanated from Pyriel. What happened? Humans always hug. Ah, must be the soap. Man, that stuff burns like fire. Shrugging he returned to the bathroom, where a smiling Nurse Isabella stood shaking her head.
‘Two parts of wisdom I would like to bestow upon you, Detective.’ Nurse Isabella motioned for Asmodeus to get back into the shower. ‘One, close your eyes when you wash your hair, and two, although you have a very impressive vocal range with your bits still attached, it’s not becoming for a grown man to scream like a girl when a little soap gets into his eyes.’ Asmodeus opened his mouth to protest and point out that he could have lost his eyes if she had withheld the towel any longer. But he saw Nurse Isabella's expression and stayed mute. Instead, he closed his eyes and let the warm water run over his head and body, vowing he would never speak of this again.