by D. C. Gomez
“That is the best description of Constantine. He’s all about soul business. But don’t think I’m going to treat you any different now.” She gave me a serious glare, but I could see she was trying to hide her smile as she walked back to the stove. “Also, don’t tell Angelito a thing. He is clueless. Constantine has already made the announcement, so don’t be surprised if people congratulate you. Those who do—you know what side of the fence they fall.”
That cat was fast. In less than ten hours, I had already been inducted to the world of the supernatural. I wondered if that was how those boys in that series felt. My life was becoming a comic book.
“So, basically, I have to wait for people to approach me, and then it’s OK to talk shop stuff?” I needed a better guide than the ones I’d had so far. They were too vague.
“No. Not everyone who knows is for you. You don’t talk to anyone. You just acknowledge they know and watch your back. Some want your job. Others want you out of the way.” Abuelita was great at delivering horrible news with flair. She had steam all over her face as she spoke and didn’t even blink.
“I believe that. The benefit package is out of this world.”
“That’s because you might not last long, so it needs to be enticing. Please try not to get killed. I would hate to murder some people.” Now, that was true love, and I was afraid she meant every word.
I had to move a little faster to get the drinks ready. I had left all the plates in the dishwasher the night before, and I needed to get them set up. I prayed the Monday crowd would be calm when I opened the door. I peered outside, and the parking lot was empty. Normally on my nights, we had at least two people waiting in their cars to come in. Maybe this crowd was timid.
“Abuelita, what time do your Monday regulars come in?”
Abuelita had moved to the back to get the roast out of the oven. She had to come to the front to answer me. “Usually between four fifty and five fifteen. They know the nieces are never ready on time.” She went back to the stove to prep more food. The blessing of Abuelita was that she had a set menu for each night. So she always knew nothing was going to be wasted, three entrees per day.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been killing myself trying to get ready.” I now had twenty minutes to kill and not much to do.
“I thought you were making up for yesterday. By the way, did you find Bob?”
My good mood vanished. “Nope. They took another lady today. Bartholomew thinks they’re witches.” I was heading toward the bathrooms to check the toilet paper levels when Abuelita popped her head around the bar area.
“Isis, witches in Texarkana. Are you sure?”
I had to turn around to answer. Abuelita looked worried.
“I’m not sure of anything. We got hit with some nasty spells on the loop. Bart’s the one who thinks they’re witches.” I was obviously missing something, because Abuelita looked troubled.
“What did Constantine say?”
“No time to talk. I was running late for work. You do realize I barely made it in at four.” I knew she had noticed; I was not that smooth.
“Isis, watch yourself. Witches and wizards can be extremely dangerous. The closest registered coven is in Sulphur Springs.” Was I supposed to remember that?
“Yes, we’ve noticed that. I still don’t know who they are or what they want, but they’re real good at covering their tracks. Bart has been trying to find them for over a year.”
Abuelita didn’t looked satisfied. I gave her one last glance and headed to the bathrooms.
By the time the first customer made it in, the bathrooms were stocked and cleaned. I had wiped down every table at least twice and even had time to eat rice and beans. My stomach was growling—not the best impression to give paying customers. Angel boy was the first one to walk in, followed by the Joneses. They looked nervous. I guessed interns didn’t have a good reputation. All three looked as if they wanted to turn around.
“Hi, everyone. Your usual drinks?” I said from behind the bar.
Everyone gave me a polite nod. Like creatures of habit, they all took their assigned seats. At least that was a constant in my life. Gabe smiled at the Joneses and headed toward the bar. I passed him taking the horchata to the table.
“Mr. Gabe, I’ll be right there with you.” I gave him my most brilliant smile. Somehow, knowing the man was not just out of my reach but out of my planet made it easier. I had stopped drooling for him.
“Here you go, guys. What can I get you today?” The couple was looking at me as if I were growing horns.
“How are you feeling?” Ms. Jones asked, not really looking at me.
“I’m better, thank you. I had a rough couple of days, but I think things are slowly falling into place.” I wasn’t sure what it was, but she noticeably relaxed. Even her husband released the breath he was holding. I wondered when I had started noticing those little details.
“We’re so happy, and congratulations.”
I just smiled back at her. They ordered the Monday carne asada special.
By the time I got back to the bar, Gabe had a drink, courtesy of Abuelita. They were chitchatting merrily. I cautiously walked around her and left the orders on her stand in the kitchen. When I turned around, they were both smiling at me. Abuelita went back to the kitchen, very chipper.
“Isis, I’m so sorry I scared you on Saturday.” His smile had changed to a look of concern.
“Don’t be. It was probably my fault for not reading the manual.” Eventually I would give in and read the damn thing. Maybe.
“You have a manual?” For an angel, Gabe had a fabulous mischievous smile.
“So I’ve been told. Really, it’s all good. Lesson learned. My sergeants would have told me it was good training.”
“I’m pretty sure Constantine would say the same.” Gabe relaxed, and he radiated confidence and peace. That, I definitely hadn’t noticed before.
“Everyone knows Constantine.” I said that more as a statement than a question. I obviously knew the answer already.
“The boy has been around. No matter what people say about him, he’s good at his job.” Gabe’s voice had a touch of pride. I was pretty sure they were old friends.
“How long has Constantine worked for Death?” I leaned over the bar and watched him drink his horchata.
“Rumor has it he always has worked for her. Officially, since Cleopatra. Now be nice and don’t try to get an honest boy in trouble. It’s bad to gossip.” Gabe winked at me and pulled out his phone. “Work calls; be right back.” He strode out the front door to take his call. What kind of long-distance plan did God have?
The rest of my night flew by. I was seeing my customers in a new light. As if the veil of reality had been pulled off. At first everyone was cautious and short around me. I guessed that like Abuelita, they were expecting me to change. I might need to tell people I was too lazy to learn a new personality.
CHAPTER 12
Six hours on my feet were murder. I had purchased really good shoes a while back, but I obviously needed new ones. It was still odd—the concept of a steady income. From what everyone said at Abuelita’s, interns had mixed reputations and short life-spans, so the salary was a great compensation plan. Maybe this week I could swing by the mall or the Shoe Carnival. I wasn’t sure when I would find time, but it was a fun thought.
I pulled up to the car entrance of Reapers. Bartholomew had had a hand scanner installed ten feet from the building. That way I wouldn’t have to get out to unlock the gate. The boy was impressive—probably dangerous, but impressive. I rolled in slowly and waited for the security system to do its magic. As soon as the second set of doors was up, I rolled down the shop to the car area. The emergency lights were the only lights on downstairs. The upstairs loft gave enough light to compensate.
It was past ten in the evening, and I didn’t want to cook. I had cheated and brought food with me instead. I had not been expecting all the advice I had received from everyone. Even Abuelita was
amazed at how concerned everyone was for me. I needed to say some extra payers of thanks for all the customers. By the time I reached the upstairs door, Bartholomew and Constantine were waiting for me. Neither was very patient.
“OK, what did I miss?” I dropped the food bag at the counter and waited for the lecture that was coming. When people looked at you so agitated, lectures were in order.
“We need your help. We have no idea how to make any of the stuff we bought today. We’ve already burned several weird packets of pasta.” Bartholomew’s face was priceless. He looked like the eleven-year-old boy he was, not like the genius hacker he played most of the time.
My heart dropped. Why did I always jump to the worst conclusions with people? It was a blessing I wasn’t a gambler, because I was sucking at discerning people lately.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Somehow, everyone wanted to talk after Constantine’s announcement. Did you tell the whole world?” I was pulling containers out of the bag. “I figured it was a little too late to make food, so I brought dinner instead. Hope that’s OK.”
Bartholomew and Constantine’s jaws both dropped. They almost looked as if they were drooling. I really didn’t want to know what they had been eating.
“You brought Abuelita’s home?” Bartholomew was now five and looking younger. It was incredible how young he sounded.
“Yes, I did, and I even checked that it was gluten free.” I found plates in the cabinet and made a plate of carne asada, beans, and rice for Bartholomew. I added a side of salsa and guacamole just in case. For Constantine I skipped the beans and rice but added an extra helping of chicken.
I handed the plates to Bartholomew, who took them to the dining table. Like most of Abuelita’s clients, I was nuts for the horchata. I had brought a large container. I poured a cup for Bartholomew and a small saucer for Constantine. They were both waiting for me very patiently. It was weird to have people waiting for me to actually eat, not just to get their food. I gave them both their drinks.
“Aren’t you having dinner with us?” It was the first time Constantine had spoken. If I didn’t know better, he sounded sad.
“I smell like Mexican food. I’m going to take a shower first. Don’t wait for me.” Even my hair smelled like it.
“We can wait.” Bartholomew put his fork down and took a sip from his drink. I heard his stomach growling.
“If you guys don’t mind me stinking, I’ll join you.” I walked over to the kitchen area and made myself a plate. I had three large containers—one with pork, one with chicken, and the last with rice and beans. I really hoped they were hungry, or we were going to have food for days.
“You smell pretty tasty. But I understand not wanting to walk around covered in it.” I was sure that coming from a cat, being tasty was a great compliment.
I took my plate of rice and beans to the table. Bartholomew had poured me a drink while I was making my plate. I had piled guacamole on my plate. Abuelita’s guacamole was addicting. I sat down and bowed my head to pray. Bartholomew and Constantine were staring at me with their heads tilted. They had such a similar look that I almost smiled.
“What are you doing?” Bartholomew looked so innocent.
“I was going to pray. Do you guys want to join me?” I was afraid to push my beliefs on them.
“I don’t follow a god or denomination.” Constantine looked at me as he spoke.
“Neither does my godmother. She claims to be agnostic. So our prayers, growing up, were directed to a higher power in thanksgiving and grace. No affiliation necessary.” That was the best way I could describe it.
“I like that. Could we try it?” Bartholomew looked eager. Or maybe he was just hungry.
“Your godmother sounds like my kind of people. And you grew up to be Catholic?” Constantine was right. My godmother and he would totally become best friends in a New York minute.
“I found the rituals and traditions comforting. Christianity called to me while I was in the military.” At first, church was a way to get out of duties on Sunday in basic training. Then I was touched. I was definitely not sharing all that.
“And now you are a poinsettia, lily, and orchid.”
Even Bartholomew was confused by Constantine’s statement.
“I’m a what?”
“You’re a Christmas, Easter, and Mother’s Day Christian. The only times you go to church.” He was rolling when he said that.
“OK, I like the other way better. Sounds so much nicer.” A smartass cat was not funny.
“I heard that from a wise man in town. He’s devious, but oh so clever.” Any man Constantine admired as devious and clever was someone to watch out for.
“Can we pray now, before Bart’s stomach starts eating itself?”
At that they both smiled and nodded.
I bowed my head, and the boys followed suit. “Father, we want to thank you for the food we are about to eat. We pray for the people who prepared it. We give you thanks for the new friends you’ve brought into our lives. Give us health and happiness. For all this we pray.”
I finished my prayer with the sign of the cross. Crossing my right index finger over my right thumb, making a cross, I touched my forehead, my heart, my left shoulder, and finished with my right shoulder. The physical prayer made another cross over my body. Silently I repeated the words “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” I had done it so often that it took less than five seconds to complete.
“Let’s dig in. I hope you guys like it.”
Neither one replied. They just jumped on their food. I noticed Constantine had a booster chair to reach the table. At least he ate like a cat. I wasn’t sure if I could handle him using a fork, since he didn’t have fingers.
Abuelita’s food had a way of calming the masses. We were all focused on it for at least the first five minutes.
“So, are you quitting Abuelita’s?” Constantine asked between mouthfuls.
“I wasn’t planning on it.” I was enjoying my beans and rice too much to even look up. When I did, both Bartholomew and Constantine were staring at me. “What? What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing, but most interns said it was too much work to have two jobs.” Bartholomew didn’t sound convinced when he said that.
“It’s a part-time job; come on, now. It’s not like we’re working in a factory with set hours. Besides, I get all the free food I want. You can’t beat that.” OK, so maybe I really did work for food, but a girl has to eat.
“Can I work there too?”
Oh, thank God I wasn’t the only one who would work for food. “Or I can just bring food home, and we share.”
His mouth was full, but he managed to nod. Was this actually home? The thought scared me. We finished eating with a few comments regarding the food.
“OK, I’m heading to the shower. Afterward we need to talk about those witches and what’s going on. You two are in charge of the dishes.” With that I dropped my plate in the sink and headed toward my bedroom.
“She’s been here less than a day, and she’s already bossing us around. That’s technically my job. I’m the guardian,” Constantine said to Bartholomew.
Bartholomew laughed. “I heard that.”
The hot shower did wonders on my muscles. I struggled to get out and get ready. The bed looked so good, but we needed to get to work. Hopefully, one of them would explain the mechanics of it. Twenty minutes later, I was clean and dressed and heading toward the common area.
Bartholomew was at his work station typing away. Constantine was on the back of the couch talking to him.
“Are you sure you can’t find them?” Constantine sounded irritated. “You can track anyone in the world, but you can’t find witches in Texarkana.”
“I told you, we don’t have nearly as many police cameras around town. Makes the work a little harder now.” Bartholomew didn’t even look at him when he spoke.
“What are you doing, Bart?” I took a seat on the couch. Constantine was hanging on t
he top of the couch.
“Breaking the law and spying on people.” At that Bartholomew glared at Constantine.
Constantine just smiled.
“I’ll take that. Did you find anyone?” I didn’t want to know the details.
“Nothing. It’s like they dropped off the face of the earth. At least we know what we’re looking for now.” Bartholomew turned back to face the screen.
“Hold it; I’m confused. You didn’t know you were looking for witches. What were you doing in Brooklyn?” I was totally lost.
“We were technically in Chicago. Teck went to New York alone.” Bartholomew was still not looking my way.
“So what did he find?” This was like pulling teeth.
“We had no idea. Teck didn’t share much.” Constantine sounded bitter.
“Ninja Boy was a lone wolf. Great. In that case, what do you know?” It sounded as if Ninja Boy had been your typical intern—special and not well liked.
Constantine stretched out and started talking. “There was a report of a mass grave with over sixty bodies in Los Angeles. Death had no record of any of their passing. It looked like the bodies had been dead for over twenty years. But when Death arrived at the scene, she established that they had only been dead a couple of days. Bartholomew compared their fingerprints to those in the system, and they were a match to missing people. Except the people had been missing only a couple of months.”
“Death had no record of their passing? Where were the souls? Doesn’t Death know when a person is about to die and is there to escort the soul?” Was that lesson in the manual too?
“That’s the mystery. Death didn’t sense their passing. By the time she arrived, the bodies were empty of souls.” Bartholomew’s voice came out as a whisper.
“How is that possible?” My voiced sounded hoarse.
“It’s not. None of it is natural. Something or someone stole years of life and the souls out of them. We had no leads, and Death was mad.” Constantine was angry. “So Bartholomew started monitoring the missing person reports across the country. But as you probably know, very few reports are filed on homeless or runaways.”
