"You're always so tactful," she said in return. "I've always said you were a wonderful son-in-law. A wonderful husband and father. A fine...."
"Thank you, Mother. Now show us where we sleep, and we'll let you get back into your comfy bed."
"You'll sleep in our bed, and Dad and I will take the couch and the davenport."
"Oh, no," protested Joe. "Pearl and I can sleep on the couch and davenport. No use you giving up your bed. Besides Dad doesn't like those broken springs on the couch ... do you, Dad?"
His father-in-law grinned. "Of course not, son. But you are dealing with your mother-in-law, and there's no arguing. For thirty years she has made a practice of making herself—and me—uncomfortable when the kids come home. She couldn't sleep if she wasn't putting herself out!"
"Yeah, I know," agreed Joe. "The Mother-Martyr complex. She's got the worst case I ever saw!"
"Joe, you're the greatest kidder ..." said Grandmother.
"Who's kidding?" asked Joe, grinning at her. "Show me to my bedroom before you change your mind."
Long after the house was silent, he lay beside Pearl, thinking.
"Are you asleep?" she asked finally.
"You're awake too?" he asked.
"Yes."
"I keep thinking of the Devil looking for us," said Joe.
"And I keep thinking he'll find us," said Pearl. "Somehow, I have a feeling we're not fooling him at all."
"Go to sleep," said Joe. "He'd have to have radar to find us."
"You know," said Pearl, "that's a good name for it! And right now I feel like a blip on a radar screen."
"But a mighty pretty blip," said Joe. He kissed her good night and then turned on his shoulder to go to sleep.
In the morning he awoke to find Pearl already up. He climbed into his clothes and went out into the kitchen. Pearl was sitting at the table, eating a grapefruit.
"Where's your mother?" asked Joe.
"Out in the driveway, talking to somebody—a neighbor, I suppose."
The kitchen door opened, and Dad came in, carrying a gallon jug full of fresh milk and two freshly picked musk-melons cradled in one arm. "First ones ripe," he said cheerfully. "We'll let you kids initiate the patch. Where's Mother? She can fix them for us...."
"Out front, talking to a neighbor," said Joe.
Dad deposited the melons on the sink and set the jug of milk in the refrigerator. "Neighbor? Wonder who'd stop out front, and not drive right into the yard...?"
He walked through the house to the front room, and peered out through the curtains. Then he came back.
"Ain't no neighbor," he said. "Somebody in a Mercury."
Joe jumped and Pearl dropped her spoon.
"Here, let me get you another spoon," said Dad. "Floor's pretty dirty—we had thrashers here yesterday...."
The sound of footsteps on the back porch preceded the opening of the screen door. Pearl and Joe turned and stared.
"Why, Joe," said Pearl's mother. "You up already? You could have stayed in bed a couple more hours, and got your sleep out." She walked up to him, took his face in her hands, and kissed him. Then she turned. "Dad, you found some ripe melons!" she exclaimed. "How lovely. I'll fix them right now, and we'll have them before I fix the pancakes."
Joe looked at Pearl, then sat down at a chair. "I'm starved," he said. "Those pancakes sound real good."
"Who was that outside?" asked Dad.
"Oh, some fellow asking the directions to Highway 13."
"I suppose you told him to take the next fork to the left, then turn right at Perkin's general store," said Dad.
"Why, of course, Dad," said Mother. "That's the way to go, isn't it?"
"No," said Dad.
She turned and put her hands on her hips. "Now, Dad, you know very well that is the way to Highway 13."
"Usually," agreed Dad. "But it's closed now. Under repair. If he takes it, he'll be axle-deep in sand inside a quarter mile."
"Oh, dear, I forgot about that," said Mother, anxiety showing itself on her face.
"Don't worry about it," said Dad. "If he does get stuck, he'll come walking back here, and I can make five dollars pulling him out with the tractor."
"You know you won't do any such thing," declared Mother. "You never charged anybody yet for pulling them out. Land sakes, you want Joe to think you're a highwayman?"
"Isn't that why you sent him that way, so I could make five dollars?" asked Dad, a twinkle in his eye.
"No, it isn't," said Mother. "But, come to think of it, it is a good idea, isn't it?"
"If I didn't know you," said Dad, "I'd say you meant that. You aren't usually a kidder, Mother. What's got into you?"
"Maybe it's Joe," said Mother. "He appreciates kidding, don't you, Joe?"
"Sometimes," said Joe, looking at her sharply. There was no twinkle in her eye. "But I didn't know you could do it with such a straight face?"
"Don't see why not," she said. She turned back to the sink. "Do you kids want some ice cream in your melons?"
"In the morning, for breakfast?" asked Pearl.
"Dad will eat ice cream any time," she said, "and as long as he'll be having some, we might as well all do the same. These melons are delicious that way, and who cares what time of day it is?"
"I want some melon with ice cream in it, too!"
Jimmy's piping voice came from the doorway, and he pranced out into the kitchen in his shorts.
"Looks like I should have gotten some more melons," said Dad, beginning to move toward the door.
"Never mind," said Mother. "He can have my piece. I don't feel like eating anyway. Jimmy, go get some clothes on before you catch cold. This morning air is a bit chilly—Dad, close the door."
"Why, Grandma, what big horns you have," said Jimmy, staring at her.
Joe froze in his chair.
Dad chuckled as he made his way to the door to close it. "Like father, like son," he said. "Already he's kidding his Grandma! Hey, here comes that fellow already, walking back. He got stuck, all right!"
Pearl's chair fell over with a clatter as she rose abruptly to her feet. She faced the door, her face white.
Joe recognized him the minute he came to the door. It was the man who had been driving the Mercury the day before. But before he could utter a word, the man dashed into the kitchen, then ran for the living room without a backward glance.
"Hey, young feller!" exclaimed Dad. "Where you think you're going?" He began to follow, but almost immediately the young man reappeared, a crucifix clutched in his hand, and he faced Pearl's mother, brandishing it wildly.
Pearl leaped to the stove and picked up the poker. With a set expression on her face she ran toward the young man. Joe leaped forward and grabbed her.
"Stop!" he yelled. "Do you want to knock your mother out?"
Pearl froze in his grasp, and complete silence settled over the kitchen. Except for Jimmy. He was eyeing the young man brandishing the crucifix. "Daddy was right," he said. "You don't have red horns, Mister."
He turned to his grandmother. "But Grandma does!" he said triumphantly.
Pearl moaned and slumped to the floor in a faint.
"Yes, son," said the young man, advancing toward the older woman. "He's got horns, all right! He's the Devil. But I won't have any Devil in my house!"
He advanced upon Pearl's mother, thrust out the crucifix and said in loud tones, "Get thee behind me, Satan!"
The old lady smiled, walked around the young man, and stood behind him. "Anything you wish," she said.
"Now, just a minute," said Dad, his bewilderment complete. "What in thunderation's going on here? Mother, I don't know what you think you're doing, but you're much too old to carry on like this with a strange young man. And don't banter with the Devil's name after all these years!"
The young man stood horror-stricken, staring at the crucifix in his hand, and then he uttered a cry of despair and slumped to the floor in a dead faint.
"Pick her up and put her on the bed!" yelled Joe. "Get her out of here, and stay out yourself. This is something for Pearl and I to handle...."
"Pick her up," said Dad dazedly. "Son, are you going daffy, too? You've got her in your arms already. Carry her into the bedroom yourself—you're younger'n I am."
"No, no," said Joe, pointing to the young man on the floor. "Pick her...."
"Let her lay there," said Mother to Dad. "It's time we cut out this silly business. I've got a score to settle, and now that the cat's out of the bag, and your wife spoiled all my fun by getting stuck in the sand and ruining my post-hypnotic suggestions, I might as well settle it and be on my way."
Dad staggered over to a kitchen chair and slumped down into it. "Will somebody explain what's going on?" he begged. "I'm an old man, but I didn't think I was going crazy. Or am I?"
Pearl was coming to now, and she struggled to her feet. Joe steadied her a moment, then he looked at Dad. "No, you're not going crazy, Dad. We came here last night because we were fleeing from the Devil. He was chained up in our basement for months, but he escaped, and took the body of this young man lying on the floor—only it isn't a young man, now, but your wife. He switched bodies with her this morning when he stopped in front of the house. The Devil's in your wife's body now. And he's come to kill Pearl and I out of vengeance for my killing his own body."
"It's true, Dad," said Pearl. "Can't you see that he's the Devil?"
Her father looked at the body of his wife, standing there eyeing them all quizzically. Then he nodded. "Yes, I can see it. He's the Devil, all right. I've met him before. I recognize him now."
"That's right," said the Devil, grinning. "I remember you, too. You were quite a lad before you married and settled down!"
On the floor now, the body of the young man was stirring, and finally it sat up. The Devil looked at it.
"This body's messy with virtue," he said. "I think I'll switch back for a moment. After all, I don't have any argument with you and your wife, and we did have fun, years ago. The memory of it is rather pleasant."
"To you, perhaps," said Dad, "but not to me, I've put all that behind me, and if I had it to do over again...."
"I know," said the young man, getting to his feet. "Women are always reforming men, and ruining them for my purposes. But that's past now, and I lost that game. Right now I've got a grudge to settle."
Pearl's mother uttered a low moan and rushed over and huddled close to her husband. He put a protective arm around her shoulder.
The Devil turned to Joe. "What makes you think I intend killing you both?" he asked. "That's crude, and what would I stand to gain? You're both going to die some day, anyway, and in your present condition, I won't have any chance at you afterward. So, does it make sense that I'd let you slip out of my clutches that way?"
Joe looked at him. "I guess I see your point," he agreed. "But what are you going to do?"
The Devil grinned. "How would you like to be married to me?" he asked.
"Don't be queer!" snapped Joe.
"I mean to this body I'm wearing now?" asked the Devil.
Joe gasped. "You mean...."
"Why not? I think it's a very delicate bit of artistry, myself. Imagine it. You will make a lovely couple, both male, and your wife will be such a good mother to the children. Will be rather strange for them to have to call a man Mother, but I presume they will get used to it—or will they? How would you explain it to them? That their mother has suddenly become a man? And you, think of your position. You love your wife dearly, I know. And what an interesting situation as you take her into your arms and kiss her tenderly, and...."
"Stop!" roared Joe, leaping forward. "I'll tear you limb from limb first! I killed you once before, and by Heaven, I'll do it again!"
But before he could make another move, little Jimmy raced forward, and clutching the Devil by the leg bit hard into the calf. The Devil yelped in pain, but then he recovered and grinned. "The lad has possibilities. And who am I to deny him an occasional bite out of his mother's leg."
He disengaged the boy's grasp from his leg and pushed him gently aside. His grandmother reached out and pulled him to her, and the youngster stood with her arms protectively around him, glaring at the Devil.
"You've got your horns back again," he said accusingly.
"You just keep your eyes on those horns, son," advised the Devil. "In a moment you'll see them again, and in an interesting place...." He turned to stare at Pearl, and his gaze became penetrating.
Joe took another step forward, his face livid, but the Devil waved an arm, and Joe stood rooted to the spot, overcome by a strange paralysis.
Pearl went white. "No ..." she gasped.
"But, yes," said the Devil. "I have frequently been a beautiful woman, but I must admit, never one quite so beautiful. I believe I will enjoy using your body for the next twenty or thirty years. Believe me, I'll take good care of it. It won't grow old and fade as it would if you were using it. I wouldn't be surprised if it eventually became somebody very important, perhaps even a queen, or the wife of a president. Some position where I can control the world politically as well as morally and anti-ecclesiastically."
He advanced slowly toward Pearl, his gaze boring into her eyes. "Don't resist, girl," he said. "It won't take but a second, and you'll be rid of me. I promise I won't bother you and your family again. You'll be free to live out your lives in whatever happiness you choose to make of them...."
Pearl stood stiffly now, her face a mask of utter horror. Joe felt a wave of blackness engulfing him, a wave of sheer hate that almost consumed him, but he could not move a muscle. Then, as Pearl seemed to wilt for a moment, seemed about to fall, there came the rush of bare feet and a childish scream as Sally flung herself into the room and raced straight toward the Devil.
Her slim arms were extended, and she hit the Devil full in the back. He staggered forward, tripped on the rug, and crashed headlong against the refrigerator. He dropped like a poled ox and lay there, unconscious.
Joe, released from the paralysis that held him, leaped forward and hurled himself upon the Devil's body. Granddad, too, swung into action, and between them they both knelt on an arm of the prone Devil, and then Joe barked: "Mother, fetch a clothesline. We've got to tie him up. Once we've done that, you go and get a log chain, Dad, and we'll chain him up out in the old storm cellar."
"You bet," said Dad. "And then we'll bulldoze enough dirt over it so he'll never get out!"
"Now you're talking," said Joe. "Not even a mouse must get into that cellar...."
He clamped a hand on the Devil's throat and held it in readiness. "Don't look at him, anybody," he warned. "He's coming to. Hurry with that clothesline, Mother!"
The Devil's eyes opened, and he looked up dazedly. There was no recognition in them. He looked up at Joe. "What's happened?" he asked, then groaned. He closed his eyes a moment as a wave of dizziness obviously swept over him. Then he opened them again. "Who are you?" he asked.
"Don't you know?" asked Joe, puzzled by something he saw, or rather didn't see, in the eyes that looked up at him.
The man stared at him with a dazed air of incomprehension.
"I'm afraid I don't."
"Who are you?" asked Joe.
"I...." A look of surprise flitted over the man's face. "I ... don't know. I can't seem to remember a thing."
"Don't believe him, son," said Dad. "He's trying to pull a fast one."
Joe looked at Pearl's father in startlement. "You've been looking at him ..." his voice trailed off.
Pearl came over and looked, too. "He ... doesn't look like the Devil," she said hesitantly.
"I feel like the devil," said the young man. "And you two are sure hard on my arms. They're getting numb."
Joe eased up, then slid his knees off to the floor, "I guess I can hold him if he tries anything, Dad. You can get off him now."
Dad got to his feet and stood aside, watchfully.
"Got that rope, Mother?" he asked. She handed it to him.
"You going to tie me up?" asked the young man in dazed tones. "What's going on here?"
"I believe he's got amnesia from hitting his head on the refrigerator," said Pearl.
Joe looked undecided. "You don't remember who you are?" he asked.
The young man shook his head. "I don't remember a thing. All I know is that I'm lying here and you two are apparently bent on strangling me. Can you tell me why?"
"I can tell you why, but if you've got amnesia, I don't think I should. In fact, if you aren't faking, you'll never know why, believe me!"
"Joe," said Pearl. "I think he's gone."
"He can't be," said Joe positively.
"But why?"
"I'll tell you later," said Joe. He turned to Jimmy. "Come over here, son. I want to whisper in your ear." He handed Pearl the poker. "Clout him over the head if he makes a move," he directed.
Then he leaned over and whispered in his son's ear. Jimmy listened, then he stared at the young man. He nodded.
Joe whispered some more, and Jimmy nodded again, a look of importance spreading over his face.
"Okay," said Joe. "Now you and Sally go and get dressed. I want to take you both over to the barn and we'll have a go at milking that cow."
With expressions of delight, both children raced off.
Joe turned to Pearl's mother. "How about those pancakes?" he asked. "I'm hungry, and I think our friend is, too. After what we have done to him, I think we owe him a breakfast, at least."
He turned to the young man. "Feel able to get to your feet?"
The young man felt of the top of his head gingerly. "I guess so. And I think I'm hungry, too, now that you mention it. Those pancakes sound kind of interesting." He got to his feet, looked uncertainly around at the wondering faces of Pearl's mother, father, and Pearl herself. He smiled. "I don't know what's been going on, but maybe after some of those pancakes, you'll explain."
Pearl looked at her husband. "After pancakes, you aren't the only one who'll want some explaining!"
"That goes for me, too, Daughter," said Dad. "I can't say that I've ever experienced a morning quite like this in my life before. But one thing seems right, and I agree with Joe...."
"Mother," interrupted Joe, "how about the pancakes?" He stepped over to his father-in-law and whispered in his ear. The older man started, looked at his wife, then grinned. "You're right, son. What she doesn't know, won't hurt her."
"What I don't know, doesn't matter much," she returned, looking at him with a twinkle in her eye.
Joe looked at her. "I guess it doesn't, at that," he said.
Breakfast finished, Joe looked at their bewildered guest.
"I can't tell you who you are, just at this moment," he began, "but when Dad gets the tractor out, we'll go down the road and pull your car out where it's stuck...."
"My car?"
"Yes. It's a Mercury, and your name ought to be on the ownership card fastened to the steering wheel. That'll be a start. Once you know your name and address, you can go on from there. Somehow, you have suffered amnesia. Maybe you had an accident. Anyway, you came rushing in here and caused a commotion, and in the scuffle, you knocked yourself out against the refrigerator."
"Oh. And that's why you were holding me down, and wanting to tie me up?"
"For a moment it looked as though you were a dangerous maniac," admitted Joe. "You can't blame us for not taking chances."
"Of course not...." The young man drew a hand across his forehead. "I certainly must have had a real blow. I just don't remember a thing. You say I own a Mercury, but it means nothing to me. I know a Mercury is a car, for instance, but that's about all. I seem to know how to talk, what pancakes should taste like ... except that I'm almost willing to wager that I never tasted any as good as these before."
"Thank you," said Mother, beaming.
"I shouldn't wonder if your past way of life would all fit into place in your mind, and even though you might not regain full memory, you'd be able to take up where you left off. When you get back to your family...."
The young man shook his head. "I don't think I've got a family. It just doesn't register. Not like the pancakes, or that a Mercury is a car...."
Joe got to his feet. "Come on, Dad, let's get the tractor and get that Mercury out. Once our friend here knows who he is, maybe he can remember the details, and be on his way."
The young man got to his feet eagerly. "Yes, let's go. I do have a burning curiosity, and you can hardly blame me, can you?" He turned to Pearl's mother. "I want to thank you for your hospitality, and I want you to know I'll never forget those pancakes, no matter what else I've forgotten!"
He turned to Pearl, bowed slightly. "It has been nice meeting you, and those lovely children of yours."
Joe led the way out the kitchen door and waved back at Pearl. "Don't worry about a thing," he said. "I'll be back just as soon as we get our friend out of the sand."
Later, Joe sat in the living room, and he was surrounded by three human question marks.
"The children are up at Aunt Margie's," said Pearl. "And now you'd better tell us what all this is about?"
"It's simple," said Joe. "The Devil has a case of amnesia. As long as he has it, we're safe. If he recovers his memory, we may be in for it again. But I have a feeling he won't recover it—perhaps not for a thousand years."
"Not for a thousand years?" asked Dad. "How do you figure that?"
"Well, in the first place, the Devil isn't gone. That is, he didn't suddenly leave the body of that young man, as you all seem to think."
"How do you know that?" asked Pearl.
"Easy. I killed the mouse."
"The mouse?"
"Yes. The Devil traded places originally with a mouse, and then traded places with this young man. But the mouse was dead, so the mouse's body was empty of a mouse, if I make myself clear. Thus, the mouse is still the young man, and always will be. The Devil will be the young man, because his own body is dead. That is, he'll be the young man until he recovers his memory, if he ever does, and then he could be anybody. I hope it never happens."
"How can you be absolutely sure all this is a fact?" asked Pearl.
"Jimmy told me," grinned Joe.
"Jimmy?"
"Yes. Remember when I whispered to him? Well, I asked him if the man still had horns, and he did. Then I told him that it was a very important secret, and that he was never to discuss it with anyone, except me. You see, I didn't want anybody to blurt out the word Devil while the young man was here. Such a thing might be just the key to bring back his memory."
"But won't he remember, anyway, just as soon as he gets to putting things together, when he gets back to where the young man has his home and friends?" asked Dad.
"Why should he? The stimulus of his name, his family, his home should only serve to add to his subconscious memories as the young man. He now has the brain and body of a man who has lost his memory. The Devil can't remember anything but what's already in the young man's mind. If hisownmemory is never stirred, the chances are he will never realize his true identity. He will gradually take on the only one handy, that of the young man, and he might well turn out to be a model citizen!"
"So that's what you mean by him being an amnesiac for a thousand years?" asked Dad.
"Yes. The Bible says the Devil will be bound for a thousand years, cast into a pit. Must we take that literally? Can't the binding be a mental one, and can't the pit be amnesia?"
"It could be," said Mother suddenly. "Even hell, I believe, is a state of mind."
Pearl started. "Does that mean that now we'll have no more crime on earth, no more evil?"
"I'm afraid not," said Dad. "I know one thing for sure, the Devil is not the author ofallevil. Mankind is cussed enough in his own right, and even with the Devil suffering from amnesia, I feel sure there'll be plenty of trouble going on."
"But notquiteas much," said Joe, looking at Dad. "With one less evil companion, things should be a mite better, don't you think?"
"Your logic," said Dad, "is unassailable."
Pearl looked thoughtful. "What if the young man meets a girl, falls in love, and she him, and marries her? She'd be married to the Devil, in actuality."
Dad grinned at her. "It wouldn't be the first young man to be reformed. In that case, I'd say, the Devil would be better off with amnesia!"
THE END