by Borne Wilder
The angel turned in his seat to face forward, away from the disturbing scene. “I’m not sure what it is, that you two have going on, but I do wish you would finish quickly.”
Baal stopped struggling. He appeared to resign himself to the violation of Nolte’s grunting thrusts. He stared blankly into the distance, with a look of one who had seen one too many atrocities and had shut down his mind.
Charlie, too, turned to look out the window. There was no safe place left to look within the car. Nolte had reached a new level of depravity.
“Hey little feller, use some of your shiny words and talk dirty to me.” Nolte panted. “I’m stretching the shit out of this diaper.”
Charlie wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard Jerry, the cop, laughing.
18
The Diablo handled like a wet dream. The only Ferrari the dealership had had, was a mid-seventies Daytona, besides looking like a red version of the Back to the Future car, they wanted just over a million dollars for it, and if this money did, in fact, turn out to be his, he wasn’t about to lay out a million for anything from the seventies. Ron punched it and laced his way through the northbound traffic, his crotch tingled. Was he now wealthy?
“Whose money are we spending?”
“Your money.”
“Where did my money come from? Two hours ago, my money couldn’t buy this suit, now it can buy an island?”
“It’s money that has accumulated over the ages, money for the cause, money for the Revolution.”
“Fuck it. This isn’t the first time I’ve been played for a fool, but it is the first time I’m getting paid for it.” Ron glanced at Azazel’s legs, long perfect stems that snaked their way under her dress, and up to her lunch pail. “So when will you be wanting, this DNA sample?”
“We’ve already tested your soul, you’re a match.” Azazel twisted in her seat, the hem of her dress rode higher. Butterflies fluttered in Ron’s stomach, hopefully, and fearfully. He wanted a peek, but he was sure that this entire development was way too good to be true, and he was truly afraid, that when it was all said and done, Azazel was going to have a dick. When it came time for DNA samples, he hoped he wasn’t going to be on the receiving end. She held the shekel in her hand.
“We’re going to Walmart.”
“Oh yeah? We’re taking that thing shopping, are we?”
“We are going to visit some friends, after which, you are going to swallow the coin and become King.” A chill ripped up Ron’s spine. The King stuff sounded great, but he’d rather suck Azazel’s dick, (worst case scenario) than put the nest egg in his mouth.
“You don’t strike me as typical Walmart shopper.”
“Ron, at some point, you’re going to have to let your guard down and take this seriously. Do you watch the news?”
“Everyone watches the news.” Ron rarely watched the news, as far as he was concerned it was political propaganda, leaning left or right, with only one result, in the end, the people get fucked.
“Have you ever wondered why the Islamic Caliphate has been allowed to grow with little to no opposition?”
“Sonofabitch, don’t tell me you’re a terrorist.”
“We are going to stop terrorism, Ron. From Capitol Hill to the Kremlin, from Wall Street to the Via Dolorosa, we, or you rather, are going to make things right. You are going to bring peace to this world. The war you hear of on the news, the Islamic turmoil, has been manufactured and sustained by the highest levels of government for the last century. It has been the slow-burning fuse for a final global conflict, where nations will be brought to their knees once and for all. My organization is going to facilitate the change in power. Almost every world leader in the last century has risen to power through us. Though we can manipulate and control the political appointment process, we cannot, however, control the will of the people. The people must want change, and we will provide it when they want it. Until now, there have always been alternatives to true peace. It has taken the better part of the twentieth century and the first part of the twenty-first to narrow the options to one. The people will accept our proposal.”
“Are you shitting me? You’ve had a hundred years to decide on a king, and the best you could do was me?”
“Don’t worry, by tonight you will no longer doubt yourself. We will make you better. Now let’s go to Walmart.”
***
“C’mon Baal, you’ve been pouting for over an hour.” Michael leaned between the seats and slapped Nolte on the side of his head, causing the old man and the midget to jump simultaneously. “Give Baal one of those bottles you have stuffed in your diaper and tell him, you’re sorry.”
Nolte started to protest until Michael readied his hand for what appeared to Charlie to be a precursor to a pimp slap.
“I can guarantee that you do not want me to ask you again.”
“You sound like my mom.” Charlie laughed.
“Lean forward Shorty, let me see what I’m digging after.” Nolte pulled out the seat pocket with one hand and sorted through his collection with the other, Baal was folded in half over his lap. “I’m running low on shit that might appeal to pillow-biters, how about, a vodka? Can fags drink vodka?”
Before actually touching the bottle Nolte had produced, Baal examined it from as many vantage points the small car would allow. Satisfied that it was excrement free, he removed the bottle from Nolte’s hand as if he were taking a flower by the stem.
You might want to rub that around on the leg of your britches; I’m a bit damp downstairs, they might still need a bit of dryin’ off.”
“It reeks of human urine; Baal can’t drink this.”
“If Baal want’s a nip, Baal’s going to have to cowboy up; I pissed on all of them.” Careful not to touch the tiny bottle to his lips, Baal poured the vodka onto his tongue.
“When the Angels release Baal, he has a special treat in store for you. Baal may not have the authority to place you in Hell, but he can position you on the rim of it and make you watch. What you glimpsed in the Chantry, pales in comparison to what Baal will show you.”
“Hey Twinks, what’s the little guy babbling about, the rim of Hell? That fart cloud had stuffed me all the way in.”
“I told you before, that wasn’t Hell that was a waiting room for those too depraved to await Judgement in Paradise. Maybe if you slowed down on those little bottles, you could remember what I say. I also told you something far more important at that time, which you would do well to try and recall.”
“Whun uhn wuhn do wul to recul.” It wasn’t the answer Nolte wanted to hear.
Michael scratched the spot between his eyebrows and shot a side glance at Charlie.
“It’s like talking to a fucking kid, isn’t it?” Charlie agreed with Michael’s unasked question, he tried to keep from smiling; it was kind of funny when Nolte pulled his shit on someone else.
“There’s no helping him.” Michael was sure that that Nolte’s future was grim. He had not only hinted at the salvation available to Nolte, he had actually told him that he was pissing away his second chance. Michael had seen Hell and he was positive, no trial or calamity on Earth could prepare the human mentality for it. The Chantry was a party compared to Hell.
“Hmm, Baal has noticed we are almost to Arkansas.” He looked at Nolte with black eyes and a smile. “Baal thinks the foul little man will get another taste of what he fears most.” He knew his mistake, the instant he made it, Baal was thinking out loud, though the more Michael thought he knew, the more likely the angel would keep Jeremiel from killing him.
The poker face on Baal left a lot to be desired, Michael stared at the tiny demon for several minutes, until Baal began to squirm.
“What may Baal do for you, Angel of the Lord?” From the look Michael was giving him, Baal thought it best to butter the question generously with ass kiss.
“Why are they heading to Arkansas, Baal?” Michael had no idea if the demon would know for sure, but he knew, he would know if the beast tried
to lie. It was non-work related.
“How would Baal know any details concerning their destination?”
Michael looked at Jerry and sighed. “Jerry, would you mind pulling over and asking Baal where Azazel is going?”
“They’re going to Walmart!” Baal exclaimed. “Jerry does not need to engage Baal in any form of discourse.”
“We’ve probably passed two hundred Walmart’s since we’ve been following them, where are they going, Baal?” Jeremiel spoke up.
“There is a Walmart in Pine Bluff, Arkansas.” Baal looked down at his stubby fingers as he paired up the tips from each hand. “It’s a hidden gate. A gate that Baal had nothing to do with, Baal is not even supposed to know of its existence.”
There had been a time when Baal and Azazel had been equals, in the eyes of other angels and principalities. There had been a time when creating such a portal might even have required his permission. There had been a time when he had been a god. Certain humans had placed him on a throne equal, in their eyes, to that of the Highest. Baal looked down at the urine drenched lap of Nolte, which he’d been forced to sit upon. How he had fallen to this level of humiliation escaped all reasoning for him.
Michael looked at Jerry. “What did Gabriel say?”
“He said to make sure we get the coin to Azazel.” Jeremiel tapped at the fuel gauge, in an effort to nonverbally change the subject.
“What’s the gate for, Baal?” Michael asked.
“It is said, she has gathered her Watchers there.” Baal waited for Michael to respond. Michael continued to gauge Baal’s honesty.
Although he was still in the dark, Charlie knew the situation had somehow changed for the worse. He tried Ron’s cell again, it went straight to voicemail. Ron needed to stop thinking with his little head and cut loose from this woman. They had the money, the angels had Nolte. It was time to go. “I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed, but I see the stupid looks you all keep giving each other, what the fuck is going on? What are Watchers, and why is she taking my brother to see them?” Charlie stretched his arm across the back of the seat, resting his hand behind Nolte’s head and waited for old man to say something mocking or sarcastic, Charlie wanted to slap the teeth out of his head.
Surprisingly, Nolte appeared to be as curious as he was, the troll probably still thought he could get his hands on his nest egg.
A smile began to spread across the midget’s face, to Charlie, it looked unholy. He glanced down to see if Nolte was fingering the gay dwarf.
“Baal thinks the time has arrived.” The little man turned to share his frightening grin with the angels. “Baal thinks the time has arrived.” The biker angel didn’t say anything; he just gave the midget a go-to-hell look.
“What has arrived?” Charlie asked.
“The end of…” Before the midget could finish, a bright blue flame exploded around his head. The biker angel had tapped the midget on the head with his finger. Both, Nolte and the midget spasmed, in a simultaneous seizure. Despite the sickening smell of burning hair, it was one of the funniest things Charlie had ever seen in his life. The dwarf and the naked geriatric sat smoldering and staring into space, even Nolte’s diaper had singed around the edges.
The archangel smiled and winked at Charlie. “You don’t want to listen to him; I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as we find out. Azazel can’t hurt Ron; it’s against rules which have the most serious consequences imaginable if broken. Don’t they Baal?” Baal and Nolte sat, quietly smoldering.
Finally, once the smoke had cleared, Nolte grew a pair. “Put that magic shit away, and I’ll beat you like a rented mule,” Nolte growled. Michael smiled, Jeremiel chuckled, Charlie rolled his eyes, Baal kept his mouth shut, the angels had been given the green light on his disposal and judgment had already been passed on principalities, he had a box seat in Hell already waiting for him, unless Lucifer could actually pull a rabbit out of his hat at the end of days.
Jeremiel spoke to Michael in Phoenician, it didn’t matter, at this point, if Baal overheard. “Do you think Gabriel knows about the Watchers?”
“I don’t see how he couldn’t. Do you think Shorty’s right?” It hurt Michael to think that he and Jerry had been kept in the dark.
“Gabriel did say we might be going to the show; it didn’t occur to me that it might be The Show.” It was the first lie, Jeremiel had ever told, he’d known what Gabriel meant; he’d just hoped it wasn’t true. He felt man needed more time, he was sure they would come around to the truth, in their own. That was the second lie Jeremiel ever told.
“Fuck me! The Show.” Michael looked at Nolte sitting beneath Baal, both looked miserable, ragged and a little cooked. He turned his attention back to Jerry. “The old man would never pass, would he?”
“You know it’s rude to talk Mexican around Americans, don’t you?” Nolte asked.
Jeremiel ignored the dog. “No, he wouldn’t, I think that’s why she has the brother. Any of them will work since the naked man has made the connection, as long as it’s of their own free will.”
Baal nudged Nolte in the chest and whispered. “Your coin is gone; Azazel is releasing the Watchers.” Baal beamed.
***
“So pursue them with thy tempest, and terrify them with thy storm. Fill their faces with confusion, that they may seek thy name, O Jehovah. Let them be put to shame and dismayed forever; yea, let them be confounded and perish; that they may know that thou alone, whose name is Jehovah, Art the Most High over all the earth.” The preacher's voice echoed beneath the overpass but was swallowed by the sound of tires tearing at the concrete above him.
“Pissin’ in the wind, ain'tcha Preacher?”
“Tomorrow I have to go out among them. An Angel of the Lord told me.”
“You damn skippy, tomorrow’s the big day. Tomorrow, every Mauffauker on God’s green Earth is going to be asking where God is, and you are going to be their scapegoat.” Cleotha chuckled. “I told you, God done give the fuck up on you.”
“You’re wrong, tomorrow my redemption begins. An Angel of the Lord told me.”
“Somebody’s fuckin’ with you, Man. Gabriel’s just using you, God gave up on you, and when that mauffauker you saw this mornin’ kills you, God isn’t going to lift a finger to help you.”
“An angel of the Lord told me, that you’ve been lying so long, you believe your own lies. He told me, that your way has failed and it is time to make things right. He told me the Christ is coming to lock you up.”
“That mauffauker better pack a lunch.”
19
“You weren’t shitting me about Walmart, were you?” Ron pulled the Diablo into the middle of the parking lot and killed the engine. “Looks closed to me.”
Azazel jingled a ring of keys at the end of a long perfectly manicured finger. “Come with me, I want you to meet some friends of mine.”
Keys or no keys, Ron surveyed the parking lot and surrounding streets for law enforcement, he was still dealing with some unresolved trust issues, not to mention that some rich family out there was missing their insane daughter, wife and or mother and he was with her. Private investigators were probably combing the country, trying to find her before she blew the family fortune on king fantasies.
“Don’t worry, we’re shopping like Elvis tonight, I rented the store for the evening.” Azazel got out and walked toward the entrance. Ron watched for a moment, he knew he would follow that walk anywhere, even through the gates of Hell.
Walmart, whether it was closed or open, was Walmart, or so Ron thought, yet, the silence of this one was overwhelming. Even at the oddest hour, in the twenty-four-hour versions, there was the sound of activity, even if you couldn’t see it. It might look like you were the only soul in the store, but the sounds of floor buffers, box cutters and occasional dropped can let you know that you weren’t alone. This Walmart was dead silent, other than the bubbles from unseen fish aquariums.
Azazel made her way to Customer Service; Ron lagged a few
paces behind her to watch the show her ass was putting on beneath her skirt. The echoes of their footsteps were obscenely loud in the quiet store.
From behind the Customer Service counter, Azazel produced a Tom Ford briefcase and handed it to Ron. There were strands of copper wire threaded through the zippers and bonded together with a melted metal seal, much like one would expect to find on an ancient king’s correspondence.
Ron ran his thumb over the seal, “This looks like gold.”
“It is silly.”
“Of course, it is, silly me. Who is funny sign, funny sign, funny sign, funny sign, (תרסו)?” The initials appeared to be scratched into the golden seal by a child.
“It’s Hebrew, but it’s nonsense, it’s more like a barcode than a word. You will be seeing it more and more often, as time goes by. In fact, you will keep track of your subjects with this code.” Azazel removed Nolte’s coin from her purse and laid it over the seal. Nolte’s nest egg absorbed the gold, letting the wires fall free. “The gold will help with indigestion; you will soon see what I mean.” She tossed the copper wire aside. “Pick up the case and come with me to the Sporting Goods section and meet my friends.”
Again, Ron followed at a few paces. On the way through the bath section, Azazel took a towel from the rack and draped it over her arm. Ron looked around to see if anyone was watching, the noise from their steps, somehow made him feel guilty, as if they were violating the law of sound. Azazel looked over her shoulder and caught him staring at her ass.
“This is going to be so much fun.” Her eyes twinkled.
“Yeah, Walmart’s great, especially Sporting Goods.”
