by Ramy Vance
Her eyes darted to General Shouf, then me. “Like I said, I’m here to guide you through this place, should you choose to enter.”
“Enter why? To save the fallen angel?” General Shouf scoffed. “The angel has chosen his fate.”
She said it like that was a preposterous idea, risking your life to save someone who’d chosen damnation. It wasn’t something she would ever consider, but then again, she was a heartless, ruthless hunter whose every instinct was for the kill. Saving a life was the very antithesis of what she was created for.
And she didn’t know Penemue. He was my friend—my best friend—and I would happily walk through Hell if it meant helping him.
And given what lay before me, it seemed that was exactly what I was about to do.
So therein lay the crux of the problem: walk into Hell guided by someone who may or may not be who they claim to be, and risk being trapped inside forever.
But my friend was trapped inside, and I’d be damned if I stood around and did nothing.
Plus, Bella was dead. Medusa was dead. Sinbad was gone. Penemue was in Hell. Who did I really have? What did I really have besides the damn hotel? I was in a dark place, and dark places offer up extreme thoughts.
“Yes,” I said. “I have to try.”
“You fool,” the general shattered.
“Maybe,” I said. “But right now, in there is looking a hell of lot better than out here. At least I get to be in there with her.”
“An illusion.”
“Could be,” I said. “But given how crappy my life has been lately, I’d rather be in there with a lie than out here facing the truth.”
“I agree,” Judith said.
I spun toward her. “Really?”
She floated toward the portal, stopping at the threshold. “I’m a poltergeist and stuck living in a hotel with you. Why wouldn’t I?”
Well, at least we were in agreement.
Dark Forests and Cold Mother-in-Laws
I pushed past General Shouf with enough force to let her know that there wasn’t a force on this Earth or any other that would stop me from stepping through that portal.
The general didn’t try.
She knew when a soldier was lost. Her only hope for me now was that I’d somehow come back from this one on my own.
But stepping toward Bella, I knew there was no coming back. No way. Saving Penemue or not, I would stay in Hell with her. Hell or Heaven—or whatever domain she was in—it didn’t matter, because I would never return to this life or the living again. Not if I could help it.
There is this girl whom I love very much … and I was done being without her.
Stepping toward Bella was one of the perfect moments of my life. My heart pumped with anticipation as I crossed the threshold, my hand trembling as I reached out to her.
What I wouldn’t give for one touch, I thought, remembering the dreams I had about her in the years after she died. Every night I dreamed of her, and they were always the same. I could see her, speak to her, but I could never touch her, because as real as she felt, she wasn’t really there.
But this was different. It had to be. She must have felt the same anticipation I did, because she stepped toward me the second I crossed over, and like two young teenagers about to have their first kiss, we awkwardly embraced, our bodies trembling as we connected.
The awkwardness slid off us as familiarity returned, and like any muscle memory, we fell into the old ways. It was the little things, like how her hand would cup the outside of mine, how I would caress her neck with the tips of my fingers. The smell of her. The taste of her.
I shivered. This was unequivocally my Bella.
“It’s you,” I said, tears blurring my vision. “It’s really you.”
“Yes, my love, it is,” she whispered, and she kissed me the way she did the day I proposed to her all those years ago.
Later, I would muse about how General Shouf clicked her pervy little tongue as she watched our embrace with her echolocation abilities. She was probably building a 3D model of us in her memory for later use.
And then there was Judith, who I knew was fuming at the thought of unworthy Jean touching her daughter.
But right then and there, I didn’t care. No, that’s not right—I didn’t know. I was so consumed by the feel of her that the world around us—both worlds around us—faded away.
I swear to the GoneGods, I would have taken her right then and there. But before my hand could find her more intimate parts, my perfect moment was ruined by one loud, judgmental and unnatural throat-clearing.
“Ahem,” Judith said. “As sweet as this is, it’s not the time.” Evidently I’d woken her from her shock by stepping through the portal, and she had come through herself, floating close to the threshold.
It made sense: Bella was her daughter and the only family Judith had left. If anyone had reason to cross the boundary into Hell, it was Judith.
But that didn’t mean I had to like it.
If I had telekinetic powers, I would have pushed her away, but given I’m just a plain old human, I settled for gritting my teeth and rasping, “Judith, this isn’t exactly the time to—”
“Jean,” Bella said in an admonishing-but-playful tone. “She’s right—we don’t have time. We’re in danger here, and if we’re going to have a chance to save Penemue, we need to move.” She turned, staring off into the distance behind her. “Already he is building permanent constructs. If he gets too far, too deep, we won’t be able to get him out.”
It wasn’t so much her words, but the way she said them that jarred me. There was a deadly seriousness to them, a quality I’d heard only in the most desperate times.
Looking past her for the first time, I took stock of our surroundings. Sure, we were in an eerie forest, but it wasn’t just that. We were standing in a forest filled with trees that looked dead, even though moss-green leaves still clung to their branches. The trunks were enormous, their branches twisted and gnarled, their roots knobby and far-spread, perfect for tripping over in a forest so dense, I couldn’t see more than fifteen feet beyond where we stood.
And it was silent. I don’t mean middle-of-the-night quiet—I mean silent. No rustling of leaves, no chirping of crickets, no random creaking of branches. Nothing. It was like we stood in a picture of a forest rather than an actual one.
“How do you know what Penemue is doing?” I asked.
“I can feel him. Ever since he called me here, I can sense him, and what I know is that he’s constructing his prison as we speak, building it to the perfect specs needed for maximum punishment. If he completes this place, he’ll be lost to us forever.”
“Oh good,” I said. “A time limit.”
“Sacrificing your life for the twice-fallen angel is a fool’s errand,” Shouf said to me.
Bella and I shot her a look as our answer.
“Fools,” General Shouf said.
“Fine … fine!” Judith growled, and I could feel her release a bit of her psychic rage. “Then if there’s a time limit, then let’s get on with it.”
Now that Judith had floated through the portal, her ghostly body had formed legs—which she noticed for the first time. Looking down at the two feet she hadn’t seen since the days the gods left, she said in surprise and joy, “My feet! Look at them. They’re back.” She wiggled ten bare toes.
“I’m surprised they’re not hooved.”
Bella elbowed me gently and said with a chuckle, “Jean, seriously. Be nice.”
If Judith thought my joke was funny, she made no indication of it. She scowled. “I need shoes.”
“Ahhh, no you don’t,” I said, my attention divided between wanting to reach out to Bella and my need for my anti-aphrodisiac of a mother-in-law not to tag along. “You’re not coming, so if you don’t mind …” I pointed at the door. Well, at the floating portal acting as the beaded curtain between Hell and Earth.
“I’m coming,” she said, stomping her foot.
“Hell no
,” I said.
“Hell yes,” she said. “In fact, Hell is calling us right now, and—”
“I swear to the GoneGods, Judith, if you don’t step back right now, I will—”
“I am coming!”
“Why, because you want to save Penemue? Last I checked, you put him in your ‘dislike’ bucket with pretty much everyone else you know, so …” I gestured for her to walk back through the portal in a less than gentlemanly way.
“Jean,” Bella said. “Be nice.”
“You know damn well why I’m coming,” she hissed in such a way that I knew nothing short of physically throwing her out of Hell would stop her. “And if you think I’ll stand by and let you—”
“Mother!” Bella rolled her eyes. “I swear to the GoneGods, I thought death would spare me from this constant bickering.”
Which only made Judith double down.
And as if to punctuate her determination, I heard an actual hiss as Marty slithered in, forking his tongue at me as he narrowed disapproving eyes at Bella.
Judith, Bella and I all stared as the snake slid across the ground toward me. I have no idea where Marty came from. He must have slithered down from the lighthouse, where he had been knocking out prison guards with what I hoped was sleep-inducing venom. The portal being big and gloomy and ominous must have drawn the little viper in.
Or maybe, given the time he’d spent wrapped around my arm recently, he had developed a sixth sense for where I was.
Great, my mother-in-law and Medusa’s best friend were here. Talk about a ménage-a-judgmental.
But before I could say anything else, Bella put a hand on my forearm. “Jean,” she said, stepping between us. “Please, Jean.” She reached over and hugged her mother.
As much as I didn’t like Judith, Bella loved her, and seeing them together made me blush with shame. I was so focused on being with my wife that I had almost denied Bella her second-favorite person in the whole world (after me, of course).
I pursed my lips. “It’ll be dangerous.”
Judith nodded, her quick wit slowed as she was overcome by her daughter’s hug. “I don’t care.”
I got it. I didn’t care, either. Danger or not, Hell or not, I was with the one person I wanted to be with. Needed to be with.
Standing at Bella’s side was always the right choice.
I gestured for us to start moving deeper into the forest. As I did, thought to myself, How fitting … my trip to Hell made all the more hellish by my mother-in-law.
↔
We had taken three steps from the portal when General Shouf clicked her tongue twice and shook her head. “This is a fool’s errand,” she said. “But then again, you’ve always been a fool.”
She tossed her gun and a few extra clips through the void. “Now at least you’ll be an armed fool.” She also took off her boots and socks and tossed them to Judith.
I shuddered as she did so, because what makes aigamuchabs aigamuchabs is that their eyes are on the soles of their feet. And if General Shouf ever looked at you through those eyes … let’s just say it gives a whole new meaning to “undressing you with one’s eyes.” The general’s stare was far, far more violating.
“There. Now you have everything you need to die in Hell.” She clicked two more times. “I will call in some favors and keep this island unoccupied for the next forty-eight hours. After that, I suggest you find another exit. Also, Jean”—she pointed to the left of me—“I’d be careful going that way. I sense sentient beasties unhappy about your presence. Best to follow the river in.”
“River?”
“Indeed,” she clicked, pointing away from where the beasts apparently roamed.
Like I said: eerie.
Not All Rivers Flow
As we walked toward the river, I stared over at my Bella, watching as she strolled through a forest that would have made the perfect setting for a vampire attack.
Or werewolf.
Or any monster, really.
And I didn’t care.
There she was. Her long, blonde hair cascading down the center of her back … A back that my hands and lips had spent many long, wonderful hours exploring.
I was so happy that if I had died at that moment, I would have done so smiling.
But that’s the problem with elated, unfamiliar joy: you start to wonder if it’ll last, and that thought inevitably leads you down the dark path of how this joy is even possible.
She was here when she shouldn’t be. What’s more, she seemed to know things about Heaven and Hell and the realm of the gods that she shouldn’t. No one should.
How?
I didn’t want to ask, because I didn’t care. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. I feared that whatever answer she gave me would break the spell and send reality crashing back in … and that was the last thing I wanted.
We may have been walking in Hell, but that didn’t stop me from walking on the clouds, too.
So whatever questions I had about how this was even possible would have to wait—for a few hours. Or forever. They could wait forever. Right now, all I wanted to do was find a private corner to be with her and be … well, private.
But then my thoughts wandered to Penemue. The twice-fallen needed me—us—and if Bella was right, then we had to hurry.
Fine, being private would have to wait. But I swore by the GoneGods, when this was done, I’d find a way to be with her forever. Whether here or in Heaven or on Earth … I’d find a way. I had to—it was part of our story. Our path.
Bella had told me as much when I’d last seen her. And if there’s anyone whose word you can trust, it’s your wife who ascended to Heaven.
I heard an “Ahem” as Judith stomped past me to get closer to Bella, taking her daughter’s hand in hers just as she had done so many times before. I didn’t mind; as much as I found Judith a perpetual thorn in my ass, she was just as happy as I was … And that, if nothing else, was common ground for the two of us to work from.
Who knows? I thought. Maybe a trip to Hell is exactly what this family needs.
Marty hissed, and I looked at the viper coiled around my arm. Marty was Medusa’s head snake, taking the prime position on the crown of her head. He was the largest of the serpents and Medusa’s favorite. He also loved the gorgon more than anyone, and when she died saving Paradise Lot from a rampaging, apocalyptic monster, Marty nearly died from a broken heart.
He hadn’t approved of Medusa and me dating, not that we went on more than one date. But in the end, he saw how hard I’d fought for the gorgon, saw how much I cared for her and, well, we forged a bond through our mutual love for Medusa.
But common bond or not, he could be just as judgmental as Judith. Marty looked up at me and narrowed his eyes, a snake’s way of saying, “I’m annoyed at you” before he hissed again.
“What?” I said in a hushed voice.
Marty flicked his slitted eyes toward Bella, then back to me.
“What?” I repeated. “She’s my wife. Well, the ghost of her, at least.”
Marty snapped his venomous jaw twice before giving me an expression that could only be described as a lipless scowl. I knew what he was thinking … Marty, as normal looking as he was, wasn’t a normal snake. He had been Medusa’s (as in Queen of the Gorgons, turn-you-to-stone Medusa) head snake for centuries. That little scaly guy had seen things, knew things …
And one of those things was that Medusa and I had kind of been dating.
I was more or less wearing Medusa’s poisonous wingman on my arm. I had to choose my words carefully.
“First of all,” I said under my breath, “Bella had been dead for six years before I started seeing Medusa.” I looked up to see if Bella could hear me. I was fairly sure me seeing someone else years after her death was OK, but then again … why take that chance?
If Bella could hear me, she made no indication of it.
“Secondly,” I whispered, “I really liked Medusa, and her death nearly ended me. But that woman there is m
y wife. I’m sorry you’re pissed that I’m all googly-eyed for someone else. But again … my wife. She’s back.” As I said those last two words, I looked up at Bella just to confirm she was still there and that this wasn’t some cruel dream.
There she strode, hand in hand with Judith, as alive as one could be in a place like this. To me, she looked incandescent.
“She’s back,” I repeated.
Marty hissed, gave me another scowl and wrapped his body farther around my arm so we didn’t have to make eye contact.
Turns out, you can’t escape judgment in Hell. Who’d have thought?
Hostile Rivers and River Hostiles
Sartre famously said, “Hell is other people.” But when Penemue read that, he just shook his head and said, “Interesting fellow. Too bad he’s completely wrong.”
“About?” I had asked. At the time, I was elbow-deep in flour as I tried to bake Bella’s famous chocolate chip and macadamia nut cookies.
“About Hell, of course.”
I gave him a strained look, annoyed that he wasn’t helping. Then again, his help probably would have involved the history of flour, nuts and fire.
Penemue closed the book he had been reading. “Hell isn’t about other people. Hell is about being stuck in now.” And with that, he pulled out a bottle of Drambuie from only the GoneGods knew where and started drinking as he meandered out of the kitchen.
That was years ago, and now I was walking in a dark forest, lost and wondering about time. We had walked for what I guessed was an hour before hitting the river’s edge.
But then again, we could have been walking for ten minutes or three hours … I had no idea. Time here didn’t seem to work in any way I understood, and I honestly couldn’t gauge how long our little ramble had taken.
I took a look down at my Mickey Mouse watch and saw that the poor little fellow wasn’t really moving. As far as I could tell, he wasn’t broken—he was just stuck, his second hand clicking forward four seconds before bouncing back to its previous position and committing to four more clicks.
