I stood patiently in line with the rest of my peers, looking around the old warehouse sized building. Packed bleachers filled with chattering, screaming parentage, the school colors of blue and grey everywhere muted by black robes and stupid hats. Heavy hot and itchy, we all stood in differing states of anger or irritation, waiting for the long winded jerk bag to get on with the names.

"Lisa Nule."

The sparkly energetic blonde next to me that never gave me the time of day screamed in joy and went to get her diploma and listen to the inane mouthings of congratulations from our principle. Finally.

"Melvin Numen."

I stood up and walked over, amongst the cheers and catcalls. I was not well beloved by our wonderful school body, being of small stature, large intellect, and 'nerdy' appearance. A winner of scholastic bowls and terrible at sports, and voted most likely to turn warlock. The last was a source of chagrin, as I really didn't see myself as the vengeful school shooting humanity hating jackass type.

"Congratulations young man."

The Principle, a jolly balding man nearing his 50's murmured, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. Screw it, celebrate now, worry about later when it happens. I took my silly piece of paper rolled into a scroll and left to make way for the next poor schmuck to get out of the institutional madhouse and on to higher learning.

An eternity later, the last person was called, Frederick Willington the 3rd, and we had all officially graduated and caps flew. As quickly as I could, I escaped the madhouse crush of other students also trying to escape. The noise was just short of sanity threatening. I crested the human wave, heading towards where I last saw my parents.

My father, the normal one, was a cop. Not a beat cop, he worked his way up. He was a detective, working narcotics. At 6 feet 1 inch, he was average height and build, with wiry muscle and a slight athletic bent. His was a face that couldn't stand out in a crowd, or be described without describing half of the population of the United States. This belied a quick wit and sharp mind. if not for the weather beaten exterior age had wrought, people would no doubt say I was his younger brother. I took after him almost entirely, and was very proud of his accomplishments.

My mother was a loon. Not one of those nice harmless air-headed types of loons, I mean she was just ever so slightly bent in ways that made you cock your head to the side in wonderment in the best of times....and made you outright fear for your life on bad days. She was also hotter than the fires of hell, as the saying goes.

Rich auburn hair, green eyes, a playboy centerfold's body and a card carrying meds taking fruit loop. I knew she'd never hurt me, it was obvious she loved me, but I wasn't so sure about anyone else. Even now, knowing what to look for, I could spot 3 combat daggers secreted on her person...anyone else would no doubt only see the amazing green dress she wore.

She ran up to me in a way that drew the eyes of every guy in the vicinity to her person...or her front. Inwardly I cringed; she was not wearing a bra...again.

"Great job honey! You did it!"

"I graduated mom, yes. It's something anyone can do."

"But you did it without any eldritch horrors eating the school, or the principle shooting you all, or....."

"Darling, that is enough. The school is well protected. And Melvin, don't be a smartass to your mother."

"Yes dad, sorry mom."

"I don't mind honey, I just want pictures! Hold still and smile!"

I did as ordered, suppressing that inward sigh as dad was watching.

A small eternity and many digital camera flashes later, dad broke it up.

"Alright Sam, that's enough, if we don't hurry we won't make our reservations."

"Oh, OK." She pouted, somehow managing to look around 20, instead of the 46 I knew her to be.

"So where are we headed?"

"Headed to the finest in the land Melvin...the Retreat."

My mother's eyes lit up even as I groaned. The retreat was a hole...sure the food was great, but it was always filled with holier than thou spiritualists, including the owner. they always had some new age flavor of the week thing going on there. But the reason mom and dad liked it, and the main reason it was always packed, was that it seemed absolutely free from demon attack.

In the 50 years since it's founding, the Retreat had offered 4 star cuisine to the wealthy or those with pretensions of wealth, in a completely demon free environment. It had never been attacked, not once, and the rumors had it that those demons close while rampaging simply changed direction. It was considered good luck to eat there on special occasions, as if somehow that blessing would rub off.

I thought it was silly superstition, but it was a local legend, and kids of all ages would flock to the Retreat for sweet 16's, graduations, birthdays, you name it. My mother couldn't get enough of the place. She would likely book a table every week if not for the ridiculous waiting list. to get tables tonight dad must have called months in advance.

We made our way through the press, my dad and I treading through the waves of people crashing into us, my mother simply walking casually as people made way for her, until we reached the doors.

"Hey Merv! Wait up!"

I turned to see Felicity Andrews headed my way. Felicity, or 'city as she was known, was kind of an enigma. She was taller than I was, almost as tall as father, with lustrous brown hair and hazel eyes. A track star, she was tentatively listed as number three in the "unofficial list of top ten school hotties", a periodical written by some of the more refined gentleman of our graduating class. Despite that she seemed to have a thing for me. For my part, I had no idea how to handle her.

"Yeah city, what's up?"

"I was wondering, if you'd like to go somewhere to celebrate our release from the madhouse? My treat!"

"Can't city, the pod people have made reservations to the Retreat, and you know how they get if I were to skip. Dad would track me down and mom would wave crystals at me or something."

Her face fell. what the hell, ..I didn't understand her at all. I wasn't anyone special. We never even ran in the same circles.

"Alright...but you're not doing anything tomorrow, are you?"

"No, I'm off work tomorrow, it's a lazy day...why?" I was a bit wary, she was planning something.

"Simple, pool party at my house to celebrate, and everyone is invited. Since you have no excuse...see you there!"

And she flounced off before I could protest.

"come on son, let's go before the est of this crowd gets the same idea. You can flirt with your girlfriend later."

That grin of my fathers' pissed me off.

"She's not my girlfriend dad."

"Only yourself to blame for that son, let's go."

We reached the auditorium doors and the line slowed. The reason was obvious. They were there. The one to the left was a warlock, the one on the right, a witch. both wore black robes chased with silver, cowls pulled up even in the heat, hiding their features. Both had a stamp in hand, and were slowing the line as they stamped the hand of every graduate to leave.

The line was silent and docile, in part due to the large winged gargoyle looking monstrosity on the left, and the even larger looking red eyed snake guarding the left...the respective demons the two controlled.

Any hint of resistance was likely to be dealt with swiftly. After all this was among the most sacrosanct duties given this shadowy branch of our
government.

My turn both seemed to take an eternity, and approach far too quickly. Then the family in front of me was waved through, not having any graduates in their ranks, (the oldest child was one I vaguely recognized as a sophomore) and the Witch dismissed my parents and looked right at me. I could only tell because her head was turned my way and I felt her gaze on me...the cowl hid her face even in the bright lighting of the auditorium.

"Melvin Numen, Stick out your hand please?"

I stuck out my right hand (the one I'm reasonably sure I could do without if necessary) and she carefully used her stamp on the back of my hand, making an unbroken pentagram upon it.

"In a week's time if you have not returned to this facility to get tested, this mark will activate and you will die. Do you understand?"

I nodded.

"Then you are free to go. See you inside of a week, Melvin Numen."

She made a note next to my name as we left, none of us speaking. The way she kept stressing my full name was creepy. Made me think of some of the old rumors.

"My my, would you look at the cat! it certainly is big!" My mother exclaimed, running up and petting the 5 foot tall winged gargoyle beast.

"Mother, that isn't a cat, it's a demon. Please stop petting it before it kills you."

My father didn't even waste time with words, and showed no fear as he reached out and dragged mom away by an arm.

"Bye bye pretty kitty!"

I couldn't resist the face palm. Luckily enough we weren't all rent limb from limb, just followed by the gaze of a bewildered looking eldritch foe of all humanity.

"Well now that that's over, son why don't you drive?" Dad tossed the keys to his vintage restored 66 Chrysler Newport boat-car.

"Got it dad."

And I did, mom was flaking out a bit more than normal, and dad was going to basically sit on her and keep her from killing us all. the last thing we needed was her deciding to drive instead of dad. But she wouldn't refuse me.

The drive was uneventful, and even sort of peaceful, with dad in back with mom whispering in her ear constantly, and not up front driving me crazy with the usual comments about driving to fast or too close, or whatever.

Once out of the school parking lot, traffic was surprisingly light and we made good time. Twenty minutes later and without even swapping paint, I pulled in to the Retreat...and 5 minutes after that finally found a parking spot. The place was as always, packed.

We walked in the door, and Giles was there. Giles Brousard was the owner, hailing from Paris France. He immigrated seeking asylum from some minor war or other, but kept his accent.

"Ahh, Samantha, what a pleasure to have you among us! Your table is right this way, please! Come, come!"

We followed the excitable frenchman to the back, and the table mom favored when we came here. next to the fire exit, but facing the front door and With no
windows close.

Giles seated my mother facing the door, while dad and I took seats facing her.

"Ahh, that day Melvin...it is good that you came here, yes? I will perform the ritual to make sure you do not get selected by the demons."

I looked around, seeing a few classmates already seated or waiting in line.

"Will you do it for my classmates too?"

"those that are here, yes. I can only do so much."

Faker. I rolled my eyes.

"whatever, good plan I guess."

"You will see Melvin! Yes, you will become a believer, and have wonderful food doing so! Your menus."

He handed off the three yellowed parchment menus that popped from nowhere.

"I will send Cynthia to you in a moment, please wait patiently."

He left us alone.

Mom perused the menu, I set mine aside. Dad also set his aside a moment later.

"So son, given any thought on what you're going to do?"

I'd put off my guidance counselor and skipped career day, simply because the sword of Damocles hadn't yet dropped. My dad knew this, and knew the selection was still upon us for another week.

"Well state has given me a scholarship for criminal justice...thought I'd follow in your footsteps."

He started a bit and smiled...a little thing, soon enveloped by his habitual poker face.

"That's wonderful son, But I'd prefer you try forensics or the science angle; you're too brilliant for a beat cop."

"We will see what happens when we get there I think, not really too worried about it now."

"well just keep in mind, forensics experts can make twice as much as a detective, if they're good."

I nodded, then Cynthia was there. Giles' daughter, I always empathized with her.

"Hello there Numen family! How are my favorite regulars today!"

"Here to celebrate a graduation! Bring out the margaritas! Beer by the keg!" My mother yelled in response, dampening the buzz of conversation quite a bit.

"Mom! Inside voice please."

"Samantha, please."

"Um, so...ready to order?"

"Son, you first."

"I'd like fettuccine Alfredo and a coke."

"I'll have steak tartar and a Guinness."

"And I'll have Salmon terrine and tomato bisque please. Oh and a margarita!"

"alright, it shouldn't be more than 20 minutes. I'll be back with your drinks soon."

We made small talk, even after the drinks arrived. We were avoiding the 800 pound gorilla in the room with light hearted meaningless banter. The gorilla didn't care of course, it just sat there between us all. Other families were having the same problem.

We finished our meal (excellent, at least deserving of its four star reputation) and left the standard tip for Cynthia on the table. On our way to pay and leave, Giles appeared next to us again, following us.

"It is on the house Samantha, And I have done the ritual! Have no fears! All will be well!"

My mom was of course drunk by this time, having downed 5 margaritas, her poison of choice. She grabbed his hands and planted a big sloppy kiss on his cheek.

"Oh thank you Garson! I just know everything will be alright now!"

My father all but dragged her out as she blew kisses to Giles. I, for my part, slouched over and tried to look inconspicuous.

"Drive us home son, I got her."

I drove as ordered, carefully maneuvering the boat down the back roads as dad kept mom from getting too loud. We pulled into the drive and I tried to hand dad the keys.

"Keep them son, it's your car now. Just take care of it, OK?"

I will, and thanks dad. She gonna be OK?"

"Yeah she will son, this is just hard on her. You can raid the cabinet if you want, but no going anywhere if you do. We'll be upstairs."

He unlocked the door and went in first, while I stood there admiring my new old car and enjoying the night air. The stars were exceptionally bright in the cloudless sky. A few deep breaths later I walked in shut the door, and threw the deadbolt. a short side trip to the liquor cabinet later and I was upstairs with a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass.

Sobbing could be heard from the master bedroom, loud deep wracking sobs that tore at my heart. shutting the door I turned my wall mounted television on and upped the volume. I found a zombie movie marathon, poured myself a shot, and kicked back to relax.

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