Divine and Dateless
Page 8
“Yeah,” she said on a heavy breath as her chest began to rise and fall. “Aedan O’Connor.”
“Well, my fantasy man looked just like him, only he was nicer, and really good in bed.”
“Ai yai yai. I bet that man is one smooth operator in the sack.” Inés squeezed my hands tight in her firm grip, eyeing me intently, as if her afterlife’s future happiness was dependent on my unspoken words. “Tell it to my heart, honey. I’m all ears.”
All creditors worked on level two, the bottom floor of Purgatory, so Inés explained we’d need to take the central elevators to get to my appointment. After Inés had stuffed me full of brownies and dressed me in some awful dress with big poofy sleeves and a frilly collar I feared she’d pilfered from a church thrift shop, she took me to what looked like a subway station, only I knew once we got below there’d be elevators instead of trains.
Weird, I know.
Imagine walking down a flight of stairs to the subway and finding one long corridor packed full of gleaming silver elevators that seemed to go on for miles. Grim had taken me through the same station this morning when we’d left Heaven. Apparently, this was how the dead traveled from one floor to the next. Since I’d been assigned to level thirteen, I was allowed access all of Purgatory, just not the Penthouse. People assigned to lower floors were not allowed to move up, only down. Don’t ask me how the elevator knew this, but Grim had reassured me it did. I guess he’d assumed I’d try to sneak my way back through the Pearly Gates.
Level one was supposedly Earth. Grim had briefly mentioned the basement, but I was too scared to ask Inés to elaborate. I assumed it was the flaming pit of doom, otherwise known as H-E-double hockey sticks. I should have been thankful I wasn’t sent there, considering I hadn’t exactly lived a righteous and holy life on Earth.
I wasn’t an evil lunatic like Hitler or Saddam Hussein, but I did steal Ebony’s last tampon out of her purse last week. It was either that or ruin my favorite pair of Victoria’s Secret satin panties. Desperate times and all. She was a temp agency clerk, so I figured by the time she noticed, she’d be onto her next job, anyway.
Like I said, I hadn’t exactly been a saint. If I had to be honest with myself, I knew I didn’t deserve to shoot straight to the top, as my grandma had called it. God probably had it right when he’d assigned me to level two. I should have been happy he agreed to let me stay on thirteen. I guess all that “God is merciful” crap my mom had been feeding me wasn’t bullshit.
Whatever the reason God had for giving me a pass, I resolved that from here on out, I was going to live like a good person. As soon as I gave my creditor a piece of my mind.
There was a crush of people going down the stairs to the elevator station, way more than I remembered from this morning.
“It’s a Saturday,” Inés explained as we elbowed our way through the throng. “Everyone is going down for their conjugal visits.”
Inés kept checking her watch as we worked our way through the masses. I could barely make out the gleaming elevators as I peered over the heads in front of me.
“Damn,” she grumbled as she elbowed a big hairy guy next to her. “You’re never gonna make your appointment at this rate.”
It took another ten minutes before we were able to squeeze through the turnstiles. The press of bodies around me mixed with their various odors, some pleasant, some not so pleasant, made my head swim. Most everyone carried bags of steaming food. I assumed it was because the chow on the lower levels wasn’t the best quality, but Moo Shoo Pork didn’t exactly blend well with rose-scented perfume and some other smell that reminded me of hangover vomit.
I’d never been good around crowds while sober. I clenched a hand to my midsection as my gut revolted. If we didn’t get out of there soon, I’d end up losing three chocolate fudge brownies and two cups of coffee all over my borrowed dress.
Luckily, Inés spotted a break in the crowd, so she dragged me toward the only elevator without a press of people trying to get in.
“Don’t go in there, ladies,” a guy called to us as he jostled his way toward the adjacent elevator. “There’s a crazy naked guy from level two trying to move up.”
Inés rolled her eyes as she marched toward the elevator and slapped the downward arrow. “There ain’t no crazy Inés can’t handle.”
When the gleaming metal door opened with a ding, my jaw dropped. Chest heaving and nostrils flaring, Stan, AKA Dingle-berry, looked like a raging Chihuahua preparing to charge. He made a run for the lobby but was thrown back with a violent crackle, landing on the floor of the elevator with a thud.
“Like a bug in a zapper,” Inés snickered as she ushered me inside the car and hit the button for level two.
I clutched my little borrowed purse under my arm and covered my nose with my free hand as my senses were assailed by the smell of burning flesh. There was another stench, too, kind of like week-old fish guts.
I huddled beside Inés while pinching my nose tight and breathing into my palm. It wasn’t until the elevator doors closed and we made our slow descent that I realized being trapped in a cramped chamber with a naked, smelly guy who had a festering boil on his back that was starting to resemble a second head might have been the lowest point of my day. And I’d been kicked out of Heaven, so that was saying a lot.
Stan moaned something unintelligible and then vomited on the tile floor. He rolled to his side, clutching his stomach while resting his ear in vomit.
“Ewww.” Inés fanned her face while scooting to the far end. “That’s just nasty.”
Stan managed to lift his head long enough to scowl at her, but when his gaze flickered to me, he shot to his knees. Vomit dripped down the side of his face as he leveled me with an accusatory finger. “You!”
Oh, shit.
I wanted nothing more than to disappear beneath the hem of my poofy dress as I pressed my back against the wall and eyed Stan with apprehension.
Inés turned to me. Attitude locked and loaded, she cocked a hand on her hip. “You know this fool?”
I shook my head. “Hardly. I went with Grim to pick him up last night.”
Her eyes widened before she broke into a knowing grin, revealing a brilliant set of pearly whites, minus one gaping hole toward the back of her jaw. “Aedan took you on a call?” She wagged a finger. “Tsk, tsk.”
“He was running behind.” Honestly, I didn’t know why I felt the need to defend him. It wasn’t like I cared if he got in trouble for breaking protocol.
“Where’s your fucking boyfriend?” Stan’s words came out on a sibilant hiss. “I’ve got a few words for him.”
I snapped my gaze back to Stan. He was still on his knees, swaying like a cobra preparing to strike.
I crossed my arms and glared. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“He knocked out my tooth. He dumped me in filth.” Stan waved a hand toward the angry red welts covering his mud-crusted body. “Look at this. Mosquito bites everywhere.”
His dingle-berries jiggled as he stomped a knee in vomit.
I jerked my head up and shielded my eyes. Why did I feel the need to look?
“Speaking of mosquito bites,” Inés laughed, “why don’t you put on some shorts, little man?”
“I want to know why the hell I was thrown in that dump. I am not getting off this elevator until I get answers, and you know what?” Stan’s eyes narrowed before he slid forward and lurched for my leg. “You’re staying with me.”
“Excuse me?” I squealed and tried to shake the vermin off, but he only held on tighter.
“You heard me.” Stan panted like a dog as he snaked his hands up my thigh.
“Let her go,” Inés boomed as she began hitting Stan with her heavy knock-off Coach purse.
“You want a piece of this?” Stan growled at Inés right before he released my leg and made a puny muscle.
Inés tossed her purse to the ground and rolled up her sleeves, revealing a tanned set of bulging biceps. Her bright pink lips stretched int
o a wide grin. “Hit me with your best shot.”
I seized the opportunity to kick Stan in the chest. He grunted as he fell back, sliding across the slick floor and hitting his head on the opposite wall.
Inés shot me a long and appraising look. “Damn, girl. You a real tough cookie!”
I flushed. “Really?”
“Would I lie to you?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.” I got this weird sense of déjà vu, as if I’d heard that line in a song somewhere.
Stan was moaning again, moving around like a slug. As I watched a puddle of drool pool around his mouth while he sobbed on the floor, I didn’t know if I should feel pity, anger, or disgust. All I knew was I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of the elevator.
“Does this happen often?” I waved toward Stan.
Inés pulled a face and nodded as she picked grime from her fingernails. “All the time. We call them zappers.”
“Sounds appropriate,” I said, remembering how Stan was electrocuted when he’d tried to get off on thirteen.
Now I knew why Grim had warned me not to try to get back into Heaven. I briefly wondered why he’d care. It’s not like I hadn’t been electrocuted before. I wanted to believe the worst of Grim, like he’d take sick satisfaction in learning I’d made an ass of myself and gotten shocked at the Penthouse.
But the more I thought about it, the more my stupid heart tried to tell my even more foolish brain Grim wasn’t that much of an asshole.
“Have a nice day,” Inés said to Stan’s prone body, which I thought was odd. I was fairly certain his day was going to be far from nice. “Aye Dios Mio,” Inés fanned her face again as the elevator dinged and we got off on level two. “He smells like rotten fish,” she whispered in my ear.
The door closed behind us and the elevator made its ascent back up to level three. I kind of felt sorry for whoever tried to get onto that elevator. And then I felt sorry for Stan. Yeah, the guy was a creep, but a lead weight settled in my gut when I realized Grim should have dropped me off at level two last night, too.
When we stepped onto the platform and gazed at the flood of people exiting the elevators, the horrible familiar stench hit me like a bucket of used colonoscopy bags. The smell reminded me very much of the pool from last night. Jeebus! Was level two built over a sewer?
It was a lot darker here. It should have been close to noon, but I didn’t see any light filtering in from the second story windows above the stairs. The cavern of elevators seemed to be lit by massive eighteenth-century street lamps, each at least two men wide. As we walked under a dimly lit post, I cringed when I looked up and saw a swarm of little bugs getting zapped by the light. They had bugs in Purgatory?
The post was rusted and crusty, and leaning precariously too much to the left. I hurried past it, afraid it would tip at any moment and crush everyone in its path.
“The creditor’s offices are just outside the station,” Inés
said, “so you don’t have to walk too far through this shithole.”
I felt like a piece of driftwood being swept out to sea as I moved with the crush of people up the stairs. Inés must have sensed my panic, because she grabbed my hand and pulled me along.
I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief once we spilled out onto the pavement, but I felt like I’d been swallowed by the darkness.
Thank God for those ancient streetlamps, or else it would be pitch black outside. I craned my neck to see the buildings above us, but the inky sky seemed to swallow their tops whole. Whoa. If this was Purgatory, I could imagine how creepy Hell would be.
Chaos reigned on the street. Taxis that looked more like tin cans on wheels jostled for parking spaces while the drivers screamed obscenities at each other.
No, wait. They’re not screaming obscenities. Are they screaming compliments?
Imagine a cabbie screaming this in an angry New York Italian accent: “Please move your freaking hunk of beautiful mechanical art out of the way, and have a nice day, too!”
“No! You move your beauteous pile of metal and have a nice day!” Another cabbie screamed back at him.
“Come on.” Inés tugged on my sleeve. “We don’t want to take a cab. They charge way too many credits down here.”
And so we walked, and walked, and walked. After nearly three blocks, I was starting to doubt Inés’s depth perception. Didn’t she say my creditor was just outside the station? Trudging through the slums in nothing but a poofy dress and three-inch heels turned out to be quite an adventure. I made the mistake of kicking a moldy Chinese takeout bag out of my way, only to scream and take off at a run when I heard a rat squeal inside.
The people who passed me seemed more like zombies. Their eyes were hollow and sunk in their sockets, and they hung their heads as they walked. I read shame and depression in their drawn mouths. No wonder Stan was trying so desperately to leave the second floor. This place sucked.
As we trudged four long blocks to our destination, a creepy gypsy woman tried to sell us herbal tea that smelled like piss. Inés pushed her away, and we kept on walking. The more I thought about it, the more I realized she probably was selling piss. We dodged the rotten fruit cart and the fortune teller, too.
Uh, I pretty much already knew my fortune. I was going to die a painful and humiliating death via blow-dryer. No, wait. That had already happened.
After a few more blocks, we came to an old grey building that looked like it had been built a few centuries ago. The first thing I noticed were the cracks in the foundation. I briefly worried what would happen if the structure gave way, but then I remembered I was dead anyway, so it probably didn’t matter.
“We’re here.” The heavy metal door protested noisily as Inés pried it open.
Though the hallway was dimly lit, it wasn’t as dark as outside. The walls were lined with ancient scones that probably hadn’t been dusted since they were installed a hundred years ago. The peeling and stained wallpaper, with its dark, paisley print, could have been stolen from a haunted house. I laughed at the irony. I guess it was a haunted house considering all the occupants were dead.
“I need to see my creditor, too. Her office is on the first floor.” Inés flashed an apologetic smile. “Your creditor is on the tenth.”
Inés cringed as she waved to a rusty, dented elevator. It even had one of those half-moon shaped dials above the door. I watched with a mixture of horror and curiosity as its pointy arrow slowly spun toward the first floor.
I turned to Inés, unable to mask the panic in my voice. “I don’t want to take that thing.”
“But you have to,” she said. “The stairs ain’t lit, and ten floors is a long walk in the dark.” She squeezed my shoulder and offered a reassuring, bullshit smile. “I’ll be waiting right here for you when you’re finished, okay?”
I swallowed hard as I slowly nodded. Whoever this creditor guy was, I figured I had to get the meeting over with. Inés had told me he was the one responsible for helping me find a job and managing my credits, so I could earn my way back into the Penthouse.
“Thanks so much for everything, Inés,” I said, trying my best to smile.
“That’s what friends are for.”
She playfully punched my shoulder, and I resisted the urge to scream. She packed quite the punch. I had the feeling Inés didn’t know her own strength.
“Wait.” She held out a paper as the elevator dinged. “I need you to sign this.” She shoved the paper and a pencil into my hands.
I stared down at it, trying to read the words in the dim light. “Good deeds checklist?”
“How you think I earn credits so fast?” She waved a hand in the air. “Inés do for everyone, so God do for Inés.”
I scrunched my brow before initialing next to all of her good deeds: Baking me brownies, consoling me during a time of distress, loaning me a dress, hair follicle repair….
“You mean we get into Heaven faster if we’re good?” I guess that explained the cabbies screaming niceties.
When the elevator door creaked open, I was totally not prepared for the guy who walked off. At first I thought the bundle he cradled was a baby, but then I saw bloody fingers poking out of the swaddling and realized he was carrying his arm!
“Don’t text and drive,” he mumbled before adding, “Have a nice day.”
I gave him a wide berth as he limped down the hall. I wasn’t certain if the leg he was dragging behind him was attached either.
Ewww.
“Wait a minute,” Inés said as I continued to gape at the texting zombie. She licked her finger and pushed down a lock of my frizz.
“Okay. Thanks.” I clutched my purse to my chest as I gingerly stepped inside the dark elevator, worried the squeaky boards might fall out from under me. Squinting my eyes at the barely visible numbers, I hit what I hoped was number ten and then sucked in a sharp breath as the elevator lurched.
I held my breath for the entire ascent, not that the musty smell was any worse than the odor outside, but because the cables above me squealed with such fervor, I feared my conveyance would snap at any minute.
And then what? I was already dead, so would I just look like a dead pancake, waddling around Purgatory on legs the size of bowling pins? I had to get the hell out of here. There were too many unknown variables, not to mention an alarming absence of beefcake. Well, unless I counted Grim, which I didn’t.
I struggled to force the sound of his deep southern drawl or the feel of his-rock hard erection rubbing between my legs out of my mind. No use pining over someone I couldn’t have, at least until I made it back into Heaven.
When the elevator finally opened, I stepped out and fumbled through my purse for Mr. Loveass’s business card before making my way down the darkened hall. Hopefully, I was headed in the right direction. It smelled even moldier here. I could barely make out the trace of light spilling from the doorway at the other end of the hall. I sent up a silent prayer to the Big Guy that it was my creditor’s office.