A Small Gray Spot

By Iris Safehaven

​

As I walked down 4th Avenue I saw a demon sitting on the ground next to a homeless man. The man begged for change as other humans walked by. The demon goaded the homeless man to lunge up at an approaching elderly women. The man did and pleaded for cash. The woman recoiled. She said something cruel about the man's smell and that he deserved this life. The man shrank back in shame and the demon consumed the women's callous words.

I tutted at the pity of it all, but my curiosity was piqued. It was a very strange way to create evil deeds. A young man approached the pair and I walked with him as he passed. I goaded him to give. The homeless man spoke his entreaty and the young man stopped walking.

"I'm sorry," the young man said. "I don't carry cash. I hope someone else can help you though. Good luck."

The homeless man nodded. "Thank you."

The young man walked away and I consumed his kind words. I relished the small deed momentarily then turned to the demon.

Her eyes were dark and sunken, her face narrow and gaunt. Her fully black clothes weren't imposing like most demons I'd met. It did seem like she was taller than me but her limbs were gangly. Her loose fitting jeans and looser fitting hoodie made her seem small and weak. The best way I could think to describe her was just sad. She watched me impassively; may as well have been a statue.

"I'm Alaina," I said to her.

I waited for a response and for a minute she didn't give one.

"Clarice," she said eventually. Her voice was soft and melodic, but tired and slightly hoarse. Inexplicably, my heart broke at the sound.

"Can I ask you a question?"

She continued to stare through me but didn't say anything. I took it as tacit permission. "Why goad the homeless man? The demons I've met goad a human themself to do an evil deed. They don't try to set up a situation like this." Clarice didn't respond. "Am I correct in thinking most demons are like that?"

"You are," she said. Her voice really was beautiful but I pushed that out of my mind.

"Why are you different?" I asked.

Her stare was penetrating. "Less work."

I tsked. I was certain she knew that angels could see deceptions in the air. "You can't feed on your own lies. Why tell them?"

"You can't feed on your truths."

"I have no reason to lie."

"Do I have reason to be honest?"

I hesitated. Why did I care if she was honest with me anyway? "No," I said. "You're not beholden to some strange angel."

"You are rather strange."

"Well, apparently so are you."

Clarice stared at me, but I was getting used to her awkward pauses. "I suppose," she said.

I tilted my head. "Can I sit with you?"

"Are you going to try to thwart all my attempts to feed?"

"Yes."

Clarice huffed a small laugh, seemingly despite herself. "Fine."

I sat. "You don't seem bothered by that."

"It's none of my business how you spend your life."

"I think it would be if I was interfering with your plans."

"I suppose it could be."

"Am I?"

"Interfering with my plans?"

"Yeah, am I?"

"Yes."

That was a lie, but I didn't understand why or how it could be, so I let it pass. "What exactly are your plans?"

"To cause strife and discord and to feast of the cruelty of man." No hesitation, but also a lie.

"You don't seem very well fed."

"Neither do you."

"I'm an angel after all."

"Yeah, that does seems foolish."

"Feels good though."

"Won't feel good when you starve."

"There's always enough good to sustain me." She seemed dubious so I added, "more as I make it."

She slouched deeper into herself. "There's always far more evil."

"More as you make it."

"Exactly."

"So why don't you?"

Clarice ignored me as a well dressed man approached us. She goaded the homeless man to jump up. I goaded the well dressed man to be kind. He gave the homeless man a sad, warm look but continued walking. The homeless man got the hint and didn't give in to Clarice's temptation.

I leaned closer to her to try to get her to meet my eye. "Begging too desperately isn't evil."

Clarice met my attempt with a piercing glare. "There's always enough evil to sustain me."

"Plus," I said, "it feels bad to cause harm."

She looked at me incredulously. "Is that really why you're an angel? Because it feels good?"

I scoffed and turned away. Why was I sitting there? She was being difficult. I watched the people passing by and didn't get up. There were a lot out that night. The bustle calmed me. "Being well fed," I admit, "feels better than being good."

"Then why?"

I looked at her. "Because someone needs to be."

"But why do you need to be?"

I stared into her. I wanted to see into her as sharply as she seemed to see into me. Why was she talking with me? No other demon had ever cared to ask these questions. "I actually think you know why."

"I don't."

"Then you must not want to know."

"I must not."

Her lies gave her away. "Well... If you think you might be willing to learn, you could walk with me. You'd understand then, I think."

She squinted at me. "I'll stay here, thanks."

I waited a moment to see if she would change her mind. When it was clear she wouldn't, I nodded. "I walk 4th avenue every evening after sunset."

Clarice looked tired. "Okay."

I stood up. "Thanks for talking with me."

She didn't meet my eye. "Alright."

I walked off, continuing my regular rounds.


I reached a homeless man with a guitar and stood with him as he sang about having sleep for dinner. I goaded passing people to put money into his hat. I chanced a look back at Clarice and saw her watching me. She didn't seem bothered that I her caught staring. My cheeks warmed and I realized why I talked with her so long. She really was something. When I looked back later to find her gone, I wasn't even upset.


It was a few weeks later when I next saw Clarice on 4th Avenue. I had seen her walking through downtown once, during the day, but she hadn't seen me and I hadn't tried to talk to her. The evening I saw her on 4th Avenue, as I walked under the bridge that connected it to Congress and Broadway, I saw her standing at the streetcar stop. The hoodie she wore had a small grey spot on the cuff of its right sleeve. It was nothing so stark as my own pure white clothes, but it was a far cry from the black of the rest of her outfit. She noticed me. She looked a bit like a deer in headlights despite the fact that she had clearly been waiting for me. I smiled at her and her face calmed a touch. As I jogged up to her she visibly schooled her features to be more impassive.

"I'm so happy to see you," I said.

She shrugged. "Got nothing better to do."

"But you've got a lot worse you could do, so I appreciate it."

She scoffed at my joke as she tried not to smile. "You're kinda dumb." A lie.

My smile widened. "Why don't we start our walk?"

Clarice shrugged again. "Yeah, alright."

My heart pattered in my chest as I took her right hand in my left. She barked a resistance to being dragged along but didn't pull away. Her face pinked slightly under her scowl and the gray spot on her sleeve grew.