I.O.U.

Isaac Wechsler passed away on a hospital bed surrounded by his family. His wife, Alma, the love of his life, was too sad to cry. His older son, Tobias, was not sad enough. He never felt too attached to his hard-working father. Nevertheless, he held Oscar’s hand and patted his back, trying to console his sibling. The young man was crying profusely, trying to process his loss. He had been always doted on by his father and the idea of losing him seemed unreal. Ana, the middle child, looked at the scene from the door, resenting the frequent fights she had had with her parents during the recent years, repressing her tears and her desire to leave the hospital and go back to her girlfriend.

When Isaac closed his blue eyes for the last time, he wasn’t really expecting magically appear in a heavenly place of eternal light. Nevertheless, when he opened his eyes again, he was even more surprised to find himself sitting on a cheap chair in a poorly-lit office. It was a square room with no evident door or window on any of the four dull grey walls and with only a blinking fluorescent tube pushing back the ominous looming shadows. There was an ancient-looking dark wood desk in front of him. On the other side there was a man with bright silver grey eyes and a predatory smile.

“Hello Isaac,” said the figure, “I hope you are ready for immediate incorporation to my workforce.”

Isaac seemed understandably confused. Maybe he hadn’t died yet and this was a dream, he thought. Although not a particularly nice one.

“Cat got your tongue?” asked the man. “Well, I don’t mind you being silent, as long as you do your job. There are plenty of opportunities in the current investment market for a man with your talents, and I hope to put them to good use.”

Isaac had been a really good businessman and the head of an important financial firm for many years, but he retired several years ago to spend more time with his family. Yet, he sometimes missed working his magic in the stock market.

“I always had faith in you, that’s why I helped you back then. Now it’s time to pay me back,” the silver-eyed man said, pushing a simple sheet of graph paper on the desk. It was a simple handwritten I.O.U. signed by a young Isaac. “I made you section manager, as promised.” The owed amount was a year of his services, to be collected anytime. “Do you remember?”

“I-I do.” Isaac nodded. He vaguely recalled talking to the mysterious figure many years ago. At least he remembered his eyes. He never came to collect his payment, despite fulfilling his part of the deal. “I thought I was dead.”

“Oh, you are, Isaac, you are,” explained the man, smiling like a hungry shark, ”I had the courtesy of waiting for you to die naturally before collecting my dues. Patience is only one of my many virtues, as you will learn.”

“B-but how?”

“Oh, don’t bother with the details. I don’t. You only have to share your knowledge and experience with me, every day and every hour until your pay. Easy.” He got up and started to walk around the room. “In fact I’ll do most of the work. You only need to be available.”

“Who are you?”

“Your new employer, Ike.”

“Then, I owe you a year, and then I’m free?” asked the deceased, trying to better understand the terms. “Free to do what…?”

“Free to progress,” the man answered, standing behind Isaac, who instinctively decided to keep looking forward. “But, Isaac, dear, it’s not just one year.” He slid another sheet of paper over the shoulder of the seated man. It was an expensive piece of stationery. Primo letter paper with golden accents and the logo of Isaac’s company. It was another handwritten I.O.U. signed by Isaac. “Do you remember Danielle? She was your young, sweet and buxom secretary. I made her your lover.”

“Danielle.” The man immediately recalled the juicy red lips and voluptuous figure of his former mistress. “Yes, I remember her.”

Isaac looked at the owed amount. Thirty six years of work. He gasped.

“Thirty six years, Ike,” the man explained, almost whispering in Isaac ear. “That’s also how many years older than her you were. I thought it was a poetically appropriate offer.”

“I remember her but, what did you really do?” asked the businessman, offended. “I was the one who courted her. I bought her gifts, I took her with me on luxurious trips. I always paid to satisfy her every whim. I even built her a fucking attic downtown!”

“Chill, Ike. She probably was very thankful for all those things. Nevertheless, I delivered. Don’t try to argue with that. Not that it would matter,” he said, chuckling. He continued walking around the room, took out a third piece of paper and left it on the desk. “I still have this.”

Isaac picked up the third paper. It was a paper towel. A good paper towel, from the bar of a fifth-star hotel. Another I.O.U. The words were almost unintelligible scribbles. Ike tried to decipher the amount owed.

“All the time...” He read it aloud, crying as repressed memories seem to flood his brain. “A-All the time you want.”

“Yes, indeed. Kinda makes the other two superfluous, don’t you think?” The figure said, sitting once more in front of Isaac. “Danielle was a lovely woman. With all the erotic enthusiasm and nonsensical naivete of youth. Also, impractically fertile.” Isaac’s new employer kicked back his chair and put two strange hoofed feet on the desk. “You didn’t react very well when she told you about bearing your child. You could not deal with a second family. You could not allow it breaking your first one. So, in your hour of need, I appeared to help.”

“B-but I…I didn’t know...” Angrily asked the old man. “Why did you take her away from me? What did you do to her!?”

“I took care of the pregnancy as soon as you asked me to. But, apparently, after that loss she no longer was able to stand being with you, or near you, or near all the pretty things you bought her. Too many sad memories, I suppose. So I had to take care of her too.” The fluorescent light on the ceiling flashed for a moment, revealing the horned silhouette of the demon. Isaac cowered in abject horror, as terrible thoughts filled his mind. “Come on, Ike. Relax. I’m not a monster. And I really liked her. I just picked up the pieces of the poor broken girl, looking like the man on the cover of a romantic novel, and took her with me to the old world. We lived together until another man wanted her bad enough to close another deal for her. She is now a relatively happy mother of two and, sooner or later, her hubby will join my staff. You will have many things to talk about.”

Isaac was unable to stop crying but felt slightly relieved by the news about his former mistress. A huge four-fingered hand offered a handkerchief to the man and waited for him to calm down.

“I assure you that this is not that different from you old work. And don’t worry about the length of the contract. Time flies when I am having fun.” He smiled, showing a wall of perfectly triangular sharp teeth. “For now,” said the demon, standing up, ”let me show you to your cubicle.”