Purgatorium (66 page)

I look down to see that it’s the Jack of hearts mask. I stare at it, remembering what I did on that unfaithful night. A night that has haunted me for too long.

“Blessed are you, O David; Who, like me, is saved by the LORD, Who will wear the mask as a shield of hope. So your demons will cringe before you, while you are treading upon their high places.”

I take the mask from her hand, gazing at the mask’s face, looking at the Jack-like appearance of it. “I think you might have treaded a little on Deuteronomy 33:29.”

“Just a little,” she says with a gentle smile.

I outline the heart at the left side of the mask with my thumb, wandering back to that unfaithful night. I will use this mask as a symbol. To show my demons that I have come for my retribution.

I put on the mask, letting it cover over my face, fading away the image of Barachiel along with it.

“Also!” she says with glee, turning around and taking something out of her bag. “I got a mask too!” She turns, facing me wearing the Queen of hearts mask over her face. “We are kinda like Bonnie and Clyde now! But more on the righteous path than the wrong one.”

I slide the mask on top of my head. “We need to hurry before we start to see snow over the horizon,” I tell her.

“Cool! I’m driving!” she yells, running inside the driver’s side. She starts the engine. I hop in and sit on the passenger side. I go to close the door as she stomps the gas. She takes a sharp turn, making my door quickly close itself. “Seat belts!” she screams. I quickly attach the belt around my waist, remembering how she drives.

“Can I play the ice cream man music?!” she says with glee. “It could be our battle cry to let all the reapers that hear it know…” She turns to look at me and continues, “That we may not have any more ice cream sandwiches but instead we have a whole lot of knuckle sandwiches we can throw at them! Yassss!”

“We can’t draw attention to ourselves, remember?” I say to her, calmly. She shows me a smile, giving me the thumbs-up.

She drives the van over the hill and through the park, speeding like a bat out of hell. “How did my lesser half look?”I say.

“Wait, I thought we had already discussed that we were calling him Gambit? Since he’s like your trump card in all.”

I face her, showing that I am not in the mood for playing around.

She turns to me and says, “Your gambit looked ready, yes.” Out of nowhere she stomps on the brakes. The seat belt holds me in as I look out the window to see the sinful dead tree right beside me.

Stephanie jumps out and begins wrapping the tree with a wire that is tied to a set of many paper cartridges that I concocted with a lot more gunpowder added. She finishes layering the tree with the self-made explosives and brings the extra wire over to me.

“Are you sure you want to do this? What if he has no other option but to go inside?” she says, holding out the tail end of the wire to my face.

I
reach into my pants pocket and take out a lighter. “The inside of this demonic tree is unpredictable. I cannot take that chance. The evil in this tree needs to burn.”

I flick the lighter and nothing happens. I continue flicking it and still no flame is produced. Stephanie turns to me madly laughing. “I hope you got a matchbook handy.”

I turn to her, smiling at the idea she just gave me. “No, but I know where to find one.” I look up at the big business building at the end of the park, staring at my office room.

“Woo! I’m driving!” She drops the igniter cable and heads back to the car. I get back in the passenger seat just in time to when she stomps the gas. The van pushes out like a slingshot and we are off.

I turn my head to look at Stephanie. “Remember your role, right? Get him on the elevator at 12, precisely. Not a second shorter or longer. You got that? We only have one shot at this, literally.”

She keeps her focus straight and says, “I got it. My only concern is, are you sure Uriel will take the bait?”

“Did you bring the outfit?” I respond.

“Yea, it’s in the back,” she replies, feeling uneasy about it.

“Then yes, he will take the bait,” I say, smirking at her soon-to-be situation.

She brakes hard and the van comes to a sudden halt by the building’s entrance. Stephanie jumps to the backseat and begins to undress. “No peeking!” she yells.

I hand her a heavy closed container from underneath my seat. “Be careful with this, it’s all we have left,” I say to her.

She takes it out of my hand and says, “I know, I know. Pour just a little, not a lot. I got it.”

“I got it! Don’t drop it! I never once dropped anything in my life, just to let you know again!” She hands me a briefcase. “Here you go. Might be still frigid from staying in my freezer for a bit.”

I open it to find the lion flintlock pistol stored inside. I look at the five self-made balls to the side of it that I formed out of forks and spoons. I toss out the window each of them except for one. I place it inside my pocket.

Stephanie continues to get ready as she says, “I still don’t understand why you need it though. Didn’t you say it was…”

I cut her off saying, “Everything has its purpose.”

I turn my gaze and leave the van. “Remember, 12 on the dot!”

I walk through the swinging doors, across the lobby, and into the elevator.

I look at the mirrors surrounding me, which makes me notice my face is viewable. I bring down the mask from the top of my head, covering my face up once again. The elevator doors open and I step out into my office.

10 Minutes

Raphael
swivels in my office chair, looking at the time.

The clock reads 10:02.

A loud noise is heard coming from across the park. Raphael stops and gazes out the window. I look out also to see the interstate has seen better days. I look closer and see a car flying off the railing and smashing itself right beside the coffee shop. Raphael then says, “I think that was your car.”

When he turns back,
I
am standing there.

“Well, hello there, Barachiel is it?” he says, then looking at my mask, continues, “Is this the new 21
st
century KKK mask that I have been hearing so much about? I am not gonna lie, the white face part of it, pretty racist. Good on you for doing it justice.” He laughs and puts out his cigarette.

“I mean, it has to be something along those lines to pull a fast one over me like you just did.” He points at the hourglass in the reflection, showing me the sand turning into snow. “Don’t get me wrong, but wasn’t it your idea to plan on doing the race tomorrow? I mean, the trust between demons is getting a lot thinner.”

“First off, let’s end the black jokes. You’re not black, stop acting like you’re black. And second, let’s face it, you knew it was coming. It was the only way to get everyone to play fair. If I had let this thing drag out till tomorrow, they would have ruined it like they have done so many times before. You should be feeling extra prideful right now. He just passed mile marker two, which means you are well on your way into first place if he finishes in 40:00.”
I
get out two cigars and hand
Raphael
one.

“You better be glad I am feeling extra prideful today!” He laughs, taking the cigar from me. “I knew I liked you for a reason. Going out just the way you came in, with style.”

“If you can’t trust Greed, who can you trust?”
I
reply. “That’s what I always say.”

Raphael
puts the cigar in his mouth. He picks up his matchbook, strikes a match, and lights the cigar. Smoke fills the room. “Remind me who’s dropped thus far?”

“Gluttony choked up,”
I
say. “Sloth vanished.”

“I think he is finally going to do it this time,”
Raphael
says. “We might actually end all of this tonight. Took him over a hundred tries. This was a smart idea you had, dressing up as angels, boosting his morale, and then gambling to see who gets his human carry-on bag. Genius. But what if he doesn’t make it? What if the reapers get to him and his memories get wiped all over again?”

I take the matchbook from Raphael’s hand and strike the match. I light the cigar, puffing the smoke in and out of my mouth. “Well it’s not like they are going to pull the plug on him tomorrow or any time soon for that matter.”

I laugh as Raphael joins in with me. “You are the Michael Jordan of lying, have I ever told you that?” he says, puffing smoke from his mouth. “I mean, the whole life support ending in a week nonsense was pure genius.”

He takes another puff, calming himself down. “But that’s just it—you are the smartest one out of the whole bunch of us. You probably manipulated this whole day to your needs. I would concede, but don’t forget, brotha, I know you. I know you, I know you too well. I can smell your greed from a mile away. That’s why I never keep my back to you,” he laughs, sucking on the cigar hard. He blows out a huge amount of smoke towards my face.

“So then I guess you knew this was coming,” I say, showing
Raphael
the pistol in my hand.

“You may be the smart one, but I am the fastest,” says
Raphael
, smiling. “I would dodge that bullet and snap your neck before you can even pull that trigger. Though it won’t do any good since it can’t kill ya. Making a never ending cycle between the both of us that will once again go nowhere. So it looks to me we got another demon standoff with no way of solving it. How would you expect for us to settle this quandary?”

I
take out the rag and unroll it in front of
Raphael
. He looks down at it to see the tools to reload the pistol are attached to it.
I
take out the second flintlock pistol and lay it in front of
Raphael
.

“How about a little game of one-eyed jack for old time’s sake?”
Raphael
picks up the lamb pistol.
I
take out two of my lead balls and hold them in my hand.

“Nice set of balls you got there. Make ’em yourself?” he laughs.

I roll one of them in front of
Raphael
. He stares at it, suddenly shocked, “Are those what I think they are?”

“Yes, they are,” I say, being calm, collected, and cool with each of my words.

“How in the hell did you find them?” he says, still astonished by the lead ball in his hand.

“If you can’t trust a demon, why not trust an angel instead,” I say being coy.

“He actually remembered where he hid them all those years ago? He just learned his name yesterday, how could he have...”

I cut him off by saying, “I told you he wrote to himself, remember? He must have found the book that told him the many secrets he locked away from us.”

“I still can’t believe he actually found them,” still looking at the lead ball.

“I promised you I would. Which makes us even. You went along with being Raphael and I found you the only thing that can kill a demon.”

“Well my brotha, when you came up with this silly plan, I must admit I had my doubts.” He stops to suck on his cigar.

“Then what happened?” I reply, seeming curious.

He brings his head up and blows out the smoke in the air. “My pride got the best of me,” he says with a Cheshire cat type of smile.
He
laughs as he sucks some more on his cigar.

“Go ahead, have your fun,”
Raphael
says. “This won’t even be close, boy. Tell me when.”
He
puffs more heavily. “Tell me when,”
Raphael
says again. We hear the clock ticking on the wall, waiting patiently for the other to make their move.

Simultaneously,
Raphael
and I begin loading our pistols.

“There’s a problem with your hypothesis about ol’ Jack,” I
say, taking the powder and pouring it in the muzzle.

“Enlighten me,” he responds, cleaning the inside of the muzzle.

“Jack may have pulled the trigger, but the general’s pride was what really got him killed.”
Raphael
looks down and notices he is far behind
from me.
Confused, he watches
me
progress rapidly across from him.

“How do you like the cigar by the way?”
I
ask, coyly. I put the bullet in the muzzle of the gun. Then sticking the ramrod down inside of it, I watch Raphael take out his cigar from his mouth.

Raphael ponders over it for a second until, without notice, he squeezes it with his hand. Water begins dripping out from under his fist. He says quietly to himself, “He laced the cigar with water.” He forces a small laugh and says to me, “You got me swallowing my pride over here, boy.”

I
take out the ramrod and full cock the hammer. “I’d rather you swallow this instead,” I reply
.
I
aim at his mouth and pull the trigger. Nothing happens.

“Misfire!” shouts
Raphael
, grinning.
Raphael
laughs, hurrying to take out his ramrod. “You want to know your fatal flaw? I found this out a long time ago and kept it a secret, knowing this moment would be in my future.” He cocks back the hammer. “You can never trust a lion over a lamb.” He shows me the lamb’s imprint on the side of the gun. “Which humbly makes me the abysmal victor.”