The list

In the dimly lit bar were dozens of people trying to numb their lives one drink at a time.  In the corner sat a pale man with a yellowed list.  He wasn’t drinking. He was watching.  The man sat in the same spot every Saturday night.

He looked around the dark room.

There was Heather Bumfry.  He flipped through the list. Ah, there she was. Heather was full of self-doubt since her boyfriend had dumped her.  That doubt was like an anchor on her life that kept her from trying new things.  He put a check by her name.

Then there was the ever-handsome Fred Collins.  Fred had been an up-and-coming star in the business world. His company’s C.E.O. had randomly cut his salary, leaving Fred bitter and resentful. A star had burned up as it re-entered the atmosphere.  Another name. Another check.

Over by the big-screen TV was a hulking man named Jim Hall. Jim was 45-year-old and at the end of this rope.  His job was being threatened by layoffs and Jim was having to work a second job to pay for his wife’s hospital stay.  Jim was completely consumed by fear.  “Here’s a check for you, Jim.” the man smiled.

Up next was the beautiful young Ginny Smith.  Ginny had just been diagnosed with terminal cancer.  As she drank, she felt the hope drain out of her soul.  Check.

In the booth by the kitchen were Candy and Gus Hornbeck.  They had lost their child in a freak traffic accident.  Their once-strong marriage was crumbling around their despair.  The man flipped through his notebook and found their names. Check.

Seeing his work was done for the night, the pale man placed a couple of bucks on the table.  He looked around one more time at the people in the room. He had feasted on their fear and gotten drunk on their hopelessness.  The pale man was full.

He was the Devil. And he’d back again next Saturday night.