by Bruce Blake
Bruce Blake-All Who Wander Are Lost
Chapter Eight
Manny was the same height as Trevor but a year older and thirty pounds heavier. His curly black hair hung in front of his eyes and the corners of his mouth were set in a perpetual sneer.
“Why don’t you go home to your Mommy, freak?”
The other boys gathered around them snickered, but Trevor paid them no attention. Instead, he concentrated on the bigger teen. He knew where this was going and was already tensing the muscles in his legs and body. At his side, his fists clenched and released, clenched and released.
Manny shoved Trevor in the shoulder and he fell back a step.
“Come on, pussy. Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”
Trevor did his best to hold his expression passive despite the way his insides boiled. He didn’t respond.
“Fuck you then, freak.”
This time, Manny shoved him in the chest with both hands. Trevor stumbled back three steps before landing ass-first on the muddy field. The boys gathered around laughed and pointed; Manny sneered like he was proud of his accomplishment. Trevor made no move to get back to his feet. If he did, it would only be worse, so he stayed down and let mud soak through his jeans.
“Hey! What’s going on over there? Trevor?”
The sound of the high-pitched voice made him cringe. There couldn’t have been a worse time for his mother to show up to pick him up from school. Manny looked toward her voice then back toward Trevor.
“Your mama’s here to save you this time,” he said. He stomped his foot on the muddy field, splashing dirt across Trevor’s shirt and onto his face. Trevor flinched. “See you next time.”
He led the other boys away. As they left, Trevor looked across the field at his mother rushing toward him. She looked ridiculous picking her way through the mud in her high heels. Before she got to him, Trevor got up from the field and brushed mud from the back of his jeans. Anger and embarrassment clamped his jaw tight even as he told himself he didn’t care. How could anything matter anymore when you’ve been in the grasp of an archangel?
“Trevor, are you okay?”
His mother slowed her pace as she approached, careful not to slip or splash dirt on her new skirt. She didn’t know where the envelope of money that had shown up in their mailbox one day had come from, but Trevor did. He smiled at the thought of the money, and his father, and how surprised she had been.
“What happened? Were those boys picking on you?”
“We were just playing, Mom. What are you doing here?”
“I told you I’d pick you up today.”
Trevor wiped his dirty hands on his thighs. “Yeah. In the parking lot, not on the field.”
“I saw those boys around you. It didn’t look friendly, so I thought I’d help.”
“I don’t need your help.”
I was nearly killed by a dead priest and met an archangel, he wanted to say. What help could you give?
He’d wanted to say things like that many times since what happened at the church, but he always kept his mouth shut like Icarus had told him. Nothing good would come of telling people, unless you considered being institutionalized good.
“Don’t be like that. We all need help sometimes.”
She pulled a hanky out of her purse and wiped at the mud on the back of his jeans. Trevor danced away.
“Stop that.”
“You can’t sit in the car like that.”
“Fine. I’ll change into my gym gear.”
He broke off the conversation and began walking toward the school hoping his mother would take the hint. She didn’t. He heard the splash of her heels in the mud following him.
“I’ll meet you at the car, Mom. Don’t make it worse than it already is.”
He kept walking as the sound of her footsteps stopped. A part of him buried deep inside wished that she would have kept after him, insisted on helping. It was the same part that had been relieved to see her wobbling across the field toward him, but he couldn’t let her know that part existed. He wasn’t a boy anymore. Since the church, he hardly felt he was human anymore.
When he was almost to the school, he looked back and saw her crossing the field toward the parking lot. Her shoulders were hunched forward as she watched her feet, avoiding as much of the mud as she could. He’d hurt her feelings, he knew, but there was no helping it lately. How could he live a normal life after what had happened?
He needed to talk to someone about what happened. He needed to see his father, but he was in hiding. They wanted to blame Icarus for the deaths, probably for the explosion at the church, so he understood why he hadn’t been able to see him. That didn’t make Trevor miss him any less.
Trevor stopped with his hand on the door handle, hesitating before he entered the school.
When was the last time I missed him?
Years, that’s how long. Enough time that he didn’t cry when muggers killed his father, though by then he’d been convinced Icarus wasn’t really his father.
He knew better now.
He yanked the door open and slouched through into the hall, headed for his locker and the dry, if not clean, gym shorts in it. He had to get out of this place, away from these people.
It was time to see his father.
Bruce Blake-All Who Wander Are Lost
Chapter Nine
Getting out of Hell turned out to be easier than expected.
At Piper’s suggestion, we took a left down the passageway—I did my best to distract Beth from the arms holding the torches—and followed it to the end where we found a heavy metal door with a glowing exit sign above. The door opened easily and we stepped through into the familiar patio furniture warehouse where I’d seen Mikey.
Who knew?
We passed the tallest tower of plastic chairs imaginable and arrived at the open spot where I’d handed off the detective’s soul. No one there. Not Mikey, not a generic, white-tressed angel dressed like Mr. Roarke, the enigmatic host on Fantasy Island.
“Where are they?” I glanced around the patio-furniture clearing.
“Where’s who?” Beth asked.
My heart ached at the quiver of emotion in her voice. I couldn’t have been easy for her to leave her sons behind, even in Hell. I had an idea what she was going through—I'd experienced it.
“The esc...the courier,” I said. “This is as far as I take you. An angel who looks kind of like Mr. Clean after he’s joined a heavy metal band takes you the rest of the way.”
Her eyes darted back and forth between piles of plastic-wrapped umbrellas and boxes of dismantled tables as she probably wondered ‘what an odd place to meet an angel and travel to Heaven’. Couldn’t say I’d blame her for thinking it.
“What does it mean if they’re not here? Do I have to go back?”
“No.” Piper put a hand on Beth’s arm and she pulled away. “They just didn’t know we were coming.”
I rubbed my chin: hadn’t thought about that. Until now, angels seemed to appear whenever I needed them. And sometimes when I didn’t. Once I’d summoned Poe by yelling her name, but I didn’t need her this time, nor did I want her involved. The only idea which occurred was to hide Beth until I had to harvest someone else, then pawn her off with the other soul; a two-for-one deal.
“We may have to wait a while,” I said keeping the pawning-off plan to myself—not very flattering.
“I’ll take it from here,” Piper said. “I’ve got some contacts. It shouldn’t take long.”
“Okay.” I pulled a folding chair with thick, all-weather cushions toward us and offered it to Elizabeth. “May as well get comfortable.”
She took the offered seat and I began looking for two more when Piper interrupted my search.
“I’ve got this covered, Icarus.”
“Ric.”
“Why don’t you go get some food and rest. I’ll find you when she’s gone.”
“No, I--”
Her palm touched my c
heek and instead of seeing flesh and lust, visions of hamburger platters and soft beds came to mind. My stomach gurgled and my eyelids fluttered with fatigue.
“It’s okay, she’s in good hands.”
She removed her hand and I opened my mouth to speak but the hunger pangs and tiredness didn’t dissipate with her touch; apparently they were real. I nodded and went to Beth who looked more relaxed than a few minutes ago. I knelt beside her and took her hand in both of mine.
“I’m going to take care of some other business.” Not exactly a lie. “Piper will make sure you get where you’re supposed to go.”
“Are you sure that’s okay?” Her eyes flickered to the angel standing ten feet from us then back. Some of her former nervousness returned.
“It’s fine. She’s been doing this a lot longer than I have.” I laughed and looked down at my hands. “Shit, I can barely find the moving sidewalk to purgatory, never mind the stairway to heaven. Piper has a direct connection.”
Beth put her free hand on top of mine and squeezed; I looked up to see tears gleaming in her eyes.
“Thank you for this, Icarus. Thank you for everything.” She leaned forward and kissed my cheek.
If she knew the circumstances surrounding her trip to Hell, she might not be so thankful.
I didn’t say anything, only nodded in case my conscience went rogue and let the cat out of the bag. When I stood and turned to leave, I laid my hand on Piper’s shoulder, partially to show appreciation for her help, partially out of a desire to feel the electricity touching her sparked in me. It didn’t this time.
“See you soon,” she said with a bright smile. I felt like she meant the smile and lack of shock therapy to tease me; it opened a hole in my chest.
“Yeah,” I managed before redirecting my attention to the task of finding a way out of the maze of outdoor furniture, fatigue, hunger and empty longing in tow.
†‡†
I walked right by my usual haunt: Denny’s. Poe had found me there too many times, I didn’t want to chance it if she was looking for me. A few blocks north and a couple west brought me to the door of a charming little place called ‘Benny’s BBQ Pit’. And when I say charming, I mean kind of dirty and peopled by overweight men looking for plates heaped with meat slathered in barbecue sauce.
A great place to disappear.
Half-way through my plate of Jack Daniels-infused pulled pork, baked beans and coleslaw—the weight of it in my belly increasing my fatigue—the little bell above the diner’s door chimed. Normally, I don’t bother looking up at such things, but this time I did. I’d like to say the sight of Poe standing in the doorway surprised me, but I’d be lying. She has a knack for finding me when I don’t want to be found.
The server stepped up to seat Poe as my guardian angel saw me attempting anonymity jammed against the wall in the back-corner booth. She pushed past the young lady without a word of explanation or apology, a very un-Poe-like action, and approached me with jaw set and golden eyes blazing. Her blond hair was down and the way her eyebrows angled toward her nose gave her an unfamiliar intensity. It actually made her more attractive. I threw on a smile in the hope of disarming her apparent irritation and wondered how much barbecue sauce I had smeared on my face.
“Hey, Poe. What are you doing here?”
She stomped across the restaurant, halting at my table, arms crossed and nostrils flared.
“Where have you been?” she demanded without benefit of salutation.
I shrugged. “Around.”
I swallowed the beans in my mouth and looked down at the partially demolished pile of meat left on my plate, picked at it with my fork. Poe sat down across from me, angry heat radiating from her.
“Around where?”
“Just around.”
She remained silent for a minute, waiting me out. I looked up again and saw the muscles in her jaw bunched. In my experience, Poe’s emotions were generally limited to happy/enthusiastic or nervous/scared. This angry thing was new and it kind of scared me.
“Do I have to report every movement to you?” Hide fear with attitude.
“If you’re going to Hell, yes.”
I put my fork down and leaned forward, doing my best to keep my own temper under control. I’d caused enough scenes in enough restaurants over the years and I thought the pork plate here quite tasty, so I didn’t want to ruin it for future visits.
“I told you I’d go with or without you. What did you expect?”
“Michael expects you to do as you’re told.”
“Fuck Michael.”
Poe’s eyes widened and I felt the urge to look over my shoulder to ensure the archangel wasn’t standing behind me. When I didn’t feel an electrified, gorilla grip on my shoulder, I assumed I’d gotten away with it. A minute passed in silence. Poe’s gaze remained steady on mine—another curiosity, she usually found it difficult to maintain eye contact. She drummed her fingers on the table.
“Would you like a menu?”
The waitress stood beside the table, pen and pad at the ready in case Poe wanted to order. The guardian angel didn’t look at her.
“No, she’s fine,” I answered on her behalf. “In fact, she’s just leaving.”
Noticing the tension between us, the woman nodded, told us to yell if we needed anything, then retreated. The fingers of Poe’s left hand continued drumming: dut, dut dut, dut, pause, dut, dut, dut, dut.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“There’s nothing you can do. We found Beth Elton and brought her back. She’s on her way up right now.”
“We?”
I cleared my throat, suddenly wondering if I’d said too much. I was in no danger from Poe—it's my guardian angel’s job to keep me safe, not to hurt me—but might I be getting Piper in shit?
“Yeah, we.”
Apparently, she saw no humor in my lack of forthrightness. Her eyes narrowed.
“Who took you to Hell?”
“Just someone.”
Her fingers ceased drumming and she slapped her open palm on the table, startling me and making the salt and pepper shakers dance a brief jig. I looked to see if the noise had upset our server, but she stood near the register polishing silverware and glanced away when she saw me looking.
“Dammit, Icarus, will you tell me what’s going on?”
Now she swears, too.
I sighed. Seeing Poe angry wasn’t as much fun as I might have thought. In fact, I felt a little bad.
“Piper,” I said finally. “Piper helped me get there. She’s with Beth right now, waiting for an escort.”
“Piper? Who’s Piper?”
“A guardian angel, like you. You must know her.”
The expression on her face changed, grew angrier, and it occurred to me that telling a guardian angel you’re hanging out with another guardian angel might be akin to telling your girlfriend you had sex with someone else.
“I’ve never heard of her,” Poe said through clenched teeth. “Where did you find her?”
“We bumped into each other at the park.”
“At the pond where the nun died?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t like this, Icarus.”
“Ric.”
She leaned back and her expression softened from rageful to angry.
“I didn’t want you going in the first place, I certainly don’t want you to go with someone I don’t know.”
I crossed my arms and bent one corner of my mouth up in an ‘it’s-your-fault’ kind of smirk.
“Maybe you should have come with me, then.”
“Maybe I should have,” she said, her voice so quiet I barely heard her. She looked down at her hands fiddling in her lap—more like the Poe I knew. She glanced up at me then away. “I don’t trust her.”
“You don’t know her.”
“Exactly.”
“Then you take me back.”
She shook her head, looked back down at her hands. A few seconds passed before she spoke a
gain, a touch of sadness in her voice.
“I’m going to have to tell Michael what’s going on.”
I bit down against the anger her words stirred in me. I didn’t want to lash out now she’d become vulnerable Poe again.
“He’s going to be pissed,” she added.
As she spoke, the bell over the door jingled. My eyes flickered that direction and I saw Piper stride into the restaurant. When the server offered to seat her, she simply pointed at our table and sauntered our direction.
“Do what you want,” I said looking past Poe. “We’re not going to be here very long.”
She glanced over her shoulder at Piper coming toward us.
“Is that her?”
“Yeah.”
Poe slid out of the booth and stood, looked at me for a second, then left without a ‘good-bye’, ‘be careful’, ‘take care’ or ‘fare-thee-well’. My gut twisted a bit that she hadn’t shown some final concern for my well-being; I had to stop myself from calling after her, though I’m not sure what I would have said.
As she and Piper passed in the aisle between tables, their shoulders bumped and the restaurant crackled briefly with the snap of static electricity. They faced each other for a fraction of a second and I saw Piper’s lips move minutely, then Poe continued out of the restaurant. Piper slid into the seat where Poe had been.
“Was that Poe? She warmed the seat for me.”
I nodded. “She said she doesn’t know you.”
“We’ve never met.”
She reached across the table and plucked a small slab of pork off my plate, popped it into her mouth. I looked at her with raised eyebrow as she chewed the piece of meat.
“Mmm, that’s good.”
“How come you don’t know each other? You’re both guardian angels.”
Unsurprisingly, she shrugged. “Different districts. And, frankly, most of the others don’t want to hang around the ones like her.”
My eyebrows joined the rest of my face in creating a frown.
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
