The Devil Gets His Due

The Devil Gets His Due

A windy,
cool, spring rain fell
clearing the air,
serpentining from the eaves
of the school.
Someone asked
if the class
could go play
in the fat drops of water.
I told her they

(the class)

would have to make a deal
with the Devil

(me).

Unaware
of how the Devil’s bargaining system works
the kids foolishly asked
what the payment
would end up being.
“That,” I said,
“Will be told later. So
is it a deal? Yes, or no?”

“Yeeees…”

I said they would probably lose interest
pretty quickly,
so I allowed for five minutes.
Payment would be due
upon return.

I avoid the rain’s touch
not wanting to ruin its sanctity,
for their sake.
As they crash through the doors with joyous shrieks
and scramble around
below me.

As expected,
they quickly run out of ideas
for play,
and I am saddened by the fact
that at the dawn of their lives
eighteen year olds
(for the most part)
have forgotten the simple joys
of playing. Breaking free
and embracing
the youthful fire
of merely being.

They stand around
suddenly feeling awkward,
exposed.
More like orphaned kittens
than young adults.
Marilyn Monroe
is standing in the corner
playing a scene from
The Seven Year Itch.

(You know the one…)

Others take faint stabs at games.
Playing tag
to relieve the awkwardness
but feeling all the more awkward
because it isn’t planned out
or compartmentalized.
or ready-made.

(Yes…rather sad.)

I relieve them
from this limbo.
Calling them in with
the usual adult saying,
“I told you so.”

Then
I see a curious,
joyful smile
as one young lady
takes time to look
at each wet footprint
she leaves behind her.
Peering back,
as she steps carefully,
to see the marks she leaves
vanishing, yet eternal.

The Devil has been paid in full,
and I am satisfied.

-Brent Nice 05/23/2008