Demon Stories

Violette: The Pool, 1961, USA

Violette

The Pool

1961, USA

I miss him. 

Under the blue tinted water, I sit here and ponder. Up there, I know she is looking for me, but giving me a little bit longer. I wonder how long she'll give me until she gives up and finds me in the pool.

The bottom of the pool is a hard tile, the white skirt of my bathing suit tickles me as it continually moves in a floating up motion. 

I wonder what it would be like if some other person found me sitting on the bottom of this pool right now. How in a panic they'd be, especially if they were a mother.

'There is a child on the bottom of the pool!' she'd exclaim.

"Oh what is she doing there!" I exclaim under the water, no bubbles coming out of my demon mouth. "Oh why is she sitting there! Help her!"

To this, I see two sensible shoes appear above me on the edge, just the very tips of the men's shoes. She's always wearing men's things. Its comforting to me. Somehow.

Under the water, I hear her ghostly voice. Her ghostly response.

"Somebody else's child. Oh not my problem. The mother is probably passed out in the bathroom."

Under the water, I giggle. Bubbles come out of my mouth this time.

She crouches down, and I see the tips of her black men's pants covering her thin knees, high above me.

"Or maybe," she says quietly, "her father is in France."

To this I am quiet. So she knows.

"He is not my father," I say quietly.

There comes a pause. Then a quiet answer. "I know."

We're out of jokes.

"I miss him," I say, quieter.

"I know," she says nearly silently.

"I'm sorry I miss him," I tell her, ashamedly.

She is quiet to this, for she knows what I mean. I know how hard it is for her that he is in France. He is in France with the woman she loves. 

After a long pause, the water shifts above me. I look up, and see her skinny, small fingers trailing in the water. Their slow movements comfort my sad heart, as their slow movements tell me she is sad, too. 

"Come out," she says now in a different tone, a careful tone which tries to cover her sadness. "Come on out, I made hamburgers. I know you like them."

As an apology, I come out of the water. I allow her to pull me up from the water, to make her feel important, needed. 

She is always needed, but she doesn't always know. It is my job to let her know. It is my job to cause her to feel loved. For she does not love herself, and thus unloved, she can drift away like a life in the water. 

It is my job to keep her from drowning.