by Richmond Weems
Clancy wasn’t cut out for this kind of work. He’d been a Procurement Demon for going on two years and he knew, just knew he wasn’t cut out for this kind of work.
Apparently his boss thought so, too.
Clancy trudged towards the boss’ office, down the dark and sulfurous corridors of Hell, the walls of the throbbing tunnels sweating and bleeding. He drifted past the screams of the eternally dying and tortured, ignoring the smell of burning flesh, the shit and piss that hung in the air like a fine mist, occasionally looking up from his moping to idly glance at a human crying in pain.
He sighed. It’s not that he felt any particular sympathy for the humans dangling from the hooks and stalactites; or the humans writhing and boiling in the lake of fire, screaming for mercy. Oh, sure, when he first was promoted to Demon-class, he cringed when he took his first soul to the burning lake, but it was his job and he eventually got used to the begging and the whining.
But still…wasn’t there more to Demon life than grabbing souls and bringing them to Hell? What was the point of it all? Clancy knew that Abaddon and the one called God had a deal, and that quotas were to be managed and filled per the labor agreement, but…why? Why did it have to be this way? Shouldn’t he feel some sort of satisfaction in the job?
Clancy shook his head. Such introspection was useless. It always came down to the bottom line, as his boss would say. It was Clancy’s job as a Procurement Demon to harvest the human souls, and it wasn’t his job to question. It was just business between Heaven and Hell, all part of the Way Things Were, all part of the Program, all part of the Plan. So get with it. It’s kind of hard to say what the Plan is, but rest assured there is a Plan. And his boss would bring up yet again the time he met Abaddon, pointing to the picture of the two of them; Abaddon towering over his boss, a massive arm draped around the boss’ neck, almost choking him, the boss smiling painfully like an idiot seeming to grin and scowl at the same time.
Burkat, his boss, was a manager in the 48th circle of Hell, in charge of Procurement, and a section of the legions of Harvesters, Escorts, and Scroungers. It was said that he was waiting for Abalam to move on so Burkat could take over as the right hand of Paimon, and would be very close to Abaddon on a daily basis. Didn’t matter to Clancy. He didn’t know who the players were and couldn’t keep track of all the moving and shaking in the upper ranks. Ambition was not his strong suit. He wasn’t looking to climb this corporate ladder.
All part of the Plan, I guess, thought Clancy. He stopped in front of Burkat’s office door and sighed. His paw rested on the doorknob made from a human hand. But aren’t I part of the Plan, too? Even with my questions and doubts?
Clancy stepped in and was seized by the throat.
“You’re worthless, you know that?”
Clancy couldn’t respond and hard nails clicked and scraped on his bony neck as his throat constricted.
“Why do I keep you here?”
Clancy gurgled.
Burkat tossed Clancy aside with a flick of the wrist and ambled back behind his desk. Clancy gasped for air and kept his head bowed as much as he could.
Burkat settled behind his desk and glared at Clancy’s lowered skull. A mixture of embarrassment and contempt flowed over Burkat’s rough features. His mouth worked as if he tasted something bad. His tongue slid in and out. He roared because he didn’t know what else to do and the roar built up and up, never drowning out the screams from beyond the office, and filling the office with the wind of his displeasure.
Clancy continued to stare at the floor.
The roaring stopped. Burkat harrumphed, adjusted a pen on his desk and turned in his chair so he was facing the wall on his left.
“Clancy.”
Clancy glanced up at his name, but his boss was still looking at the wall. Clancy lowered his head again.
“Clancy.” Burkat swiveled completely around in his chair so his back was to Clancy. “Tell me, Clancy. Tell me why I keep you on. Tell me why I don’t have you disemboweled and skinned and your hide stretched and tanned and used as a runner for my office floor. Tell me.”
“Well, I—”
“I’ll tell you why, Clancy.” He turned around and faced Clancy. “Union rules forbid me from ending you without the proper justifications. Though I don’t give an Angel’s ass for the union rules, I do not wish to make waves at the moment.”
Burkat paused and looked at the ceiling for a moment before settling his heavy-lidded gaze back onto Clancy.
“However,” and Burkat smiled, revealing three rows of sharp tiny teeth, “I’ve spoken to Demon Resources, and they’ve indicated what it would take to get rid of you. Permanently.”
Clancy said nothing.
Burkat said, “The paperwork is already in, and all it takes is one more screwup, one more missed opportunity, one more incompetent, lackadaisical performance…just one more.”
The smile from Burkat stretched even wider across his face, distorting his already disturbing face. “So I’m sending you out one last time. Oh, yes. I’m fairly certain it’ll be the last time. And if it isn’t…?”
The boss stood up and walked towards Clancy. He stood nose to nose with Clancy. “I’m sure I won’t have long to wait before it will be the last time.”
Clancy flinched as Burkat threw an arm across his shoulders.
“I was passed over for a promotion because of your incompetence. Johnson moved over to Accounting, and there was an executive opening in Harvesting. An opening that I coveted.”
The boss glared at Clancy. “I blame you, Clancy. I blame you that the buck-fanged idiot Razzer took that position in Harvesting. I blame you that I cannot give my wife the comforts she desires. I blame you for my static career, and I blame you for, well…everything. You are a blight on my organization, Clancy.”
They walked towards the door.
“I don’t like you, Clancy. You are worthless and you think too much. You spend more time questioning than acting. You are not a doer, Clancy. We need doers here in Hell.” The boss nodded his head, agreeing with himself. “At the end of the day, Clancy, we need doers here in Hell.”
Clancy left his boss’ office and stepped into the corridors of Hell.
***
Just before Tracy Delahanty died, she caught a glimpse of a Demonic figure hovering nearby. She wouldn’t have been able to pick out the Demon in a lineup and certainly could not have given a police sketch artist any reasonable information that would allow the police to post a picture in the Post Office, or the mall, or wherever they put those pictures that police sketch artists create, but she saw this thing, this Demon, out of the corner of her eye and it startled her. She stepped off the curb, not paying attention, right into the bus.
Tracy was never an advocate of Pasteur’s dictum that chance favors a prepared mind. Tracy thought chance only happened to those with the fortune of being born wealthy, or being an entrepreneur with a great idea. Tracy had some inkling that people worked hard at what they did, and that most success came from that ethic, but that was a vague and abstract concept to her.
If she just had the opportunity, she sometimes thought as she watched television in her bedroom at her parents’ house where she still lived, she could be just as good or great as those beautiful, happy men and women she saw in their expensive suits and shoes, walking down the street with confidence and serenity.
And they were thin, too. Rich, successful people were almost always thin because they could hire nutritionists and personal trainers. Tracy was barely able to afford to chip in for groceries at her parents’ house. If she only had a personal trainer, she could work off a few pounds; maybe get that opportunity, that break, that chance at being something other than what she was.
Tracy sighed silently as she finished her lunch. She drained her Pepsi and pulled another one out of her lunch bag, a small crumpled thing with the perpetual look of fine linen from constant use of almost a year. It was no longer even brown, but almost translucent, more of a distant cousin to plastic wrap. She tossed the remains of the apple and her other trash into the bin next to the bench. She folded up her lunch bag and put it in the front pocket of her plaid shirt.
Somewhere in the park, a girl laughed; a throaty, full-bodied laugh that indicated that girl was pretty and confident. Tracy tried to ignore that laugh. She didn’t know if that laugh was aimed at her or not, but it was always safe to assume so. Tracy sighed again without realizing it and started back to work.
There was a crew working on the sidewalk near the bookstore for the last four weeks. Her manager was constantly calling up the city in those last four weeks and complaining about the impact the crew was having on his customers, and, more importantly, on the money those customers were no longer spending in his bookstore. Other than the inventive cursing from her manager not much came of the calls. The sidewalk was ripped open and Tracy just walked down the street near the curb. She kept a lookout on the traffic coming towards her, but had the pedestrian confidence that the drivers saw her and would avoid her, so no effort was made to move herself closer to the curb.
She was on the road, two feet or so from the curb, lunchtime traffic picking up; her head bent down watching her feet shuffle up the road. She was watching her feet and she saw them stop in front of a small amount of concrete that was blocking her path. She looked up. She looked to her left and the guy with the jack-hammer started his work with a loud roar and a huff of compressed air. The noise hurt her ears and she took a step further into the street without thinking, and caught a glimpse of Clancy. He was hovering just above her and it startled her enough that she took another step into the street right into the path of the number 7 bus. The driver of the bus, trying to catch a glimpse of the lady in the miniskirt five rows behind him, never saw Tracy.
Tracy had a moment to notice the Demon’s leathery skin, but not much else. She stepped back and the bus hit her, killing her instantly. The driver screamed like a little girl, and almost drove the bus onto the sidewalk. Despite her 192 pounds, Tracy’s five foot four frame flew into the air and landed forty-four feet away, shoes off, brain crushed, and body smashed. She skidded to a stop next to a garbage can on the corner with a sign that said $50 fine for littering.
***
I think I messed up. Again.
Clancy watched the commotion as humans screamed and ran to and fro looking for something to do, someone to help, or someplace to be other than near the site of what was very obviously a fatal accident.
Clancy hovered nearby watching the remains of his Human Target ooze and leak, noticing amidst the carnage that she had very nice hair, and wondering if he popped into Tracy’s plane of existence a bit too soon. He caught the look on the Human Target’s face and he sort of figured he’d been spotted, but he hoped it wasn’t his fault that she died.
He checked the actuarial tables. No, it says she was supposed to die on this date. He checked his atomic watch to make sure. Uh-oh. He put the watch to his sharp, hairy ear even though the watch emitted no sound, but it seemed like something he should do.
Well, unless his watch was not accurate (and they were always accurate), she died .07899489489 seconds ahead of schedule.
Oh, boy. I’m in trouble now.
***
Tracy was not quite amazed, but close to it. She seemed to be looking down at herself and the crowd that was gathering around her, kind of like those out of body experiences she read about in the National Enquirer. She knew she was dead, but the thought, if that’s indeed what it was, did not give her pause and it did not grip her with fear. She was feeling not much of anything other than wonder at the current predicament. On the ground, far from her lifeless body, the bus driver was wailing and telling anyone within earshot it wasn’t his fault.
“She just stepped out in front of me. What the hell was I supposed to do? Oh, Jesus God.”
The guy in the business suit the bus driver was complaining to shrugged his shoulders and walked off having satisfied his own curiosity at the spectacle. The bus driver then proceeded to say the same thing with greater urgency to a sobbing old woman who repeatedly made the sign of the cross.
Tracy heard the sirens in the distance and wondered what her mother was going to say upon hearing the news of her only daughter’s death when Clancy cleared his throat.
She turned around to look at the Demon. She was not surprised, but she did feel a tingle of fear that seemed to be inappropriate given that a bird had just now flown through her ectoplasmic form and she had felt nothing. The fear was primal, intuitive, but did not overwhelm her or cause her to run (fly? float? drift?) screaming like she did when she saw a spider.
Clancy smiled.
The fear was replaced by puzzlement; swathed in cotton after getting an injection of Novocain, but it was there.
“I’m Clancy.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Are you okay?”
She looked down at her mangled body, paramedics casually working on her shell. “It doesn’t appear that way.”
Clancy glanced down. “No, your vessel is destroyed, but are YOU okay?”
“I guess.”
Awkward silence.
Tracy watched a plane fly overhead. “Am I dead?”
“Um, yes.”
“Are you an Angel?”
Clancy looked confused. “You think I’m an Angel?”
“Well, are you?”
If Clancy could blush he would have. “Oh, no. I’m a Demon.”
“Oh.” She thought for a moment. “Are you taking me to Hell?”
“Oh, no. No, no, no, no.” Clancy cleared his throat. “Well, yes.”
“Oh.”
Another awkward silence. Clancy wasn’t good at this. Why couldn’t he just be like Ebenezer, the malevolent moron from the cubicle across from him? Ebenezer would’ve just grabbed her, taken her down, and then had his way with her without a second thought.
“Why am I going to Hell?”
“You’re a Mediocre so that means you’re up for grabs.”
“Oh. What’s a Mediocre?”
Clancy came closer and he was aware of how big her eyes were. “You seem to be taking this rather well.”
“Yeah, I guess so. I mean, it’s kinda strange.” She looked down as the police questioned the bus driver. “Is Hell as bad as they say it is?”
“Unfortunately.”
She looked at Clancy. “Oh. I really didn’t think I was a bad person. Did I hurt someone or…”
“No, no, but because you’re a Mediocre you aren’t automatically taken to Heaven or Hell. I saw you first so—”
“Clancy, you old so and so.”
Clancy and Tracy turned towards the Angel that spoke. Clancy saw who it was and rolled his eyes. He grabbed Tracy’s hand and was pleasantly surprised when she squeezed his paw back.
“David.”
David sidled up to the pair and shook his head and smiled. His wings beat silently, and a glow seemed to emanate from him. He hovered nearby and gave Clancy and Tracy his best side.
“Now, Clancy, you know she’s one of ours.”
“Well, not really. I got to her first and—”
“A little early I might add.” David’s smile twinkled and shone. “But I’m willing to forgive and forget.”
Clancy shrugged. “Well, either way I’ve got her.”
“But that’s because you cheated.”
“Cheated?”
“Clancy, Clancy, Clancy. Why are you here by yourself? You’re working above your station, aren’t you?”
“Um, I—”
“Union rules strictly prohibit early arrival.” David winked and a book about 14 inches thick hovered in front of the three.
Clancy tugged Tracy closer to him. With his free paw, he grabbed the book, titled Heaven and Hell: Rule Book and Guidelines for Third Sphere Entities. “I’ll take a look at it.”
“Great! You do that.” As David talked he circled around Clancy until he was on the other side of Tracy.
“She’s mine.” Clancy held firmly onto Tracy’s hand just as David grabbed her other arm.
David was still smiling, but his blue eyes were hard. “Don’t make me pull rank on you, Clancy.”
Tracy felt the tug from both Angel and Demon, vaguely aware that they were tugging on her non-solid form so there should’ve been no way she should’ve felt anything. But she did. And they continued to tug. Tracy almost closed her eyes at the pleasure of being argued over. Both of them wanted her. This had never happened before, no one ever fought over her, so she allowed herself to be pulled back and forth, enjoying the moment and taking the time to look at Clancy’s rough, leathery face and David’s fair and handsome mien. The Angel reminded Tracy of all the good looking boys in high school who refused to answer her hellos. The Demon had large eyes that reminded her of a Basset Hound she had as a child–so ugly he was kind of cute.
Clancy looked at his watch and realized that he didn’t have much time. He only had an hour to get Tracy’s soul to the Pit and he would’ve gotten her there if she hadn’t been so welcoming. As it was, this bickering with David was going to cause him to lose his job.
The tugging continued. As long as he had a grip on her, the Angel wouldn’t be able to take her. Of course as long as the Angel had a grip on her, too, Clancy wouldn’t be able to take her either. Still holding onto Tracy with his arm, Clancy used his taloned feet to flip through the rulebook. What did it say about early arrival? And did it say anything about situations such as this? Normally, Clancy would’ve been able to take her to Hell since he got there first, but David knew Clancy arrived early so technically she was still up for grabs. Clancy hoped the rulebook didn’t penalize for early arrival. He was becoming desperate and really wanted to show Burkat that he was a doer. David just held on smiling ear to ear, confident he was in the right. Tracy just kind of stayed in one place with a dreamy smile on her face.
Clancy was ready to give up. He couldn’t find anything in the book to indicate David was wrong, and he was tired. He failed again. Even if there was someway that he could get Tracy to Hell he was just delaying the inevitable. He should just let go and let the chips fall where they—
A passage in the rulebook caught his eye. He examined the paragraph closer. A loophole.
Clancy looked up from his reading. He thought Tracy looked very beautiful with that small smile and those large half-closed eyes. He was aware the file said she was a Mediocre, but maybe she could be more than that. According to the rulebook…No. No human was worth it. Certainly not this Mediocre with the big eyes and pretty hair.
Clancy was still mulling the loophole over when David’s patience came to an end. He thought the hell with it. His eyes went wide and he looked over Clancy’s shoulder. “Gracious! And how are you St. Peter?”
Clancy looked behind him to catch a glimpse of the man with the keys that he heard about, but never saw. And he let go of Tracy.
David let out a triumphant laugh. “Ah-HA!”
Clancy was crestfallen.
“Well, Clancy, looks like you’ve lost this one. Not going to look good on your record is it?
“That’s dirty pool, David.”
“Oh, come now, Clancy. All’s fair in war, you know.”
Tracy’s eyes fluttered. “I’m going to Heaven?”
David smiled a beatific smile. “Of course you are, my dear.”
“Wow.”
“That’s what they all say. Now come along and I’ll take you away from this Demon.”
“Demon?” She looked at Clancy.
Clancy smiled shyly and waggled his fingers in her direction.
She smiled. “He doesn’t look like a Demon to me.”
Time stood still. The words cut through him and he wondered again how this human soul could be a Mediocre. She saw that he wasn’t a Demon. She saw him. And in that moment, during the stillness of time where nothing moved, no hearts beat, no Angels flew, and no gods and devils noticed, Clancy made up his mind. He had his loophole and in that stillness of time, Clancy knew what he would do. He knew he would be erased, but…she saw him and told him he wasn’t a Demon. In all his hundreds of years of existence, this one human soul looked upon him and smiled.
“Um, David?”
David sighed heavily. “Yes, Clancy.”
Clancy smiled shyly. “I still think that was dirty pool, making me turn to look at something that wasn’t there. I mean, Saint Peter? I’ve gotta hand it to you, though, that was pretty crafty.”
David grinned and his blue eyes twinkled. “Yes. Yes, it was, wasn’t it?”
“Well, the best entity won this one.”
“Of course. I’m an Angel.”
“Well…no hard feelings?” Clancy stuck out a clawed hand.
“Oh, perish the thought, my dear Demon. You can’t help your lack of station.” David put out his hand, still holding onto Tracy, who never took her eyes off Clancy.
They shook and Clancy laughed a little. David joined in. “You should’ve seen your face when I said Saint Peter was behind you.”
“Oh, you.” Clancy chuckled and shook a finger at David.
And then hit David square in his Angelic nose. The Angel was so startled he let go of Tracy and Clancy grabbed her.
“You. Hit. Me.”
Clancy looked a little shocked himself. “Yes. I did. How ‘bout that?”
The Angel was not hurt, but he was dismayed. No lowly Procurement Demon had ever hit an Angel. It was unheard of. It was unthinkable. It was…was…
“You dirty cheat.”
Clancy shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I have possession now so if you’ll excuse us.”
David smiled sheepishly. “You got me, Clancy. You got me. Congratulations.” David stuck out his hand.
“Um, I don’t think so, David. I’m not a complete idiot.”
Fury creased the beautiful face of the Angel and he bellowed. The sound undulated through six dimensions, not so much heard as felt. Below them, the humans just beginning to get back to their business after removing Tracy’s body, looked up as the Angelic sound tickled their unconscious minds. The priest crossed himself, not really sure why he did so, the bus driver began to cry, and the small crowd that had gathered stamped and shuffled their feet, spooked by something that only their inner mind could hear.
“I will get you for this, Clancy.”
“You’ll have to get in line.” Clancy was surprised at himself. Before this moment, he never thought he would’ve said something like that to another Demon, let alone an Angel.
Inspiration struck David. “I’m telling. I’m going to tell Him what you did to me, Clancy.”
Clancy shrugged his shoulders. He was feeling very brave indeed.
David’s smile sneered. “You’ll get yours, Clancy.”
Clancy and Tracy watched David fly away.
Tracy said, “I really would’ve preferred Heaven, I think.”
He looked at Tracy and time stood still again. He blinked and he wondered just exactly what he had done and what he was going to do. He hoped his death wouldn’t be too painful.
He smiled at her. “You said I don’t look like a Demon?”
She ducked her head and almost blushed. “Well, I don’t know what Demons look like, but I assume they look like something that hangs from buildings and from what’s in the movies and books.”
“Yes. We do. I do.”
“But, you don’t look like them.”
“I don’t?”
“Not to me. I mean, you’re kinda leathery and you’ve got these huge teeth and kinda weird looking eyes, but you’re kinda cute, too.”
“Cute?”
“Yeah.”
“Honestly, Tracy, I’ve seen these gargoyles and they don’t look cute.”
She smiled.
“Well, I guess we should get going before David comes back with Him.”
Tracy’s smile disappeared. “I really don’t want to go to Hell.”
Clancy said, “I’m not taking you there.”
***
“Where are we?”
“Cathedral of St. John the Divine. I sometimes come here when I have some time off and I need to think.”
“Pretty.”
He checked his watch. He only had forty-one minutes and he had no idea what to say.
“What are we doing?”
He looked at her and thought of the things he wanted to tell her and the reason he did what he did and explain to her what exactly he did. But…
“I don’t know.”
She smiled and a tear squeezed out of his eye. It was more shocking to him than his hitting David.
“You’re in trouble aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Well, see, that’s the problem. I was told to bring you to Hell. Oh, no, it’s not because you did anything wrong or you were a bad person, it’s just that it’s my job to get the Mediocres when they become available and escort them to Hell.”
“The what?”
“Hmm?”
“You said mediocre. I’m a mediocre?”
“Yes. Most people are. They said you’re not an Exceptional and you’re certainly not a Wicked. So…Mediocre. And all Mediocres are up for grabs. I’ve got 60 of your minutes to get you to Hell or you automatically get to Heaven. You know, that Irish toast? ‘And may you be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you’re dead’?”
“No, haven’t heard of it. But you said ‘half-hour’”
“Yeah, well, the union complained so that rule was changed to an hour.”
“Why?”
“Well, I guess the union felt that it wasn’t enough time to get to the site, find the soul, and–”
“No. Why do you do what you do?”
“I don’t know. It’s my job?”
“So now what?”
Clancy smiled. “Now we wait for thirty-eight minutes and you tell me about yourself.”
And she told him about herself. She told him things that she never thought she would’ve told anyone. She told him about a kitten she had when she was ten and how that kitten used to curl up against her neck when she lay in bed. She told him she liked listening to paper crinkle. She told him she liked the guy that came into the bookstore every Tuesday. She told him that she’d never been kissed. She told him that she was teased because she was overweight, and she told him about the crush she had on a football player in high school and she said hello to him and he looked at her and it was like he didn’t even see her she was so beneath him he didn’t even acknowledge her existence and she told Clancy that she realized that she would never be in a fairy tale and she would never have love or be loved or have anyone look at her like they loved her and she was alone always alone and she had committed herself to this existence, just going through the motions just being…mediocre.
“But, you…you’re looking at me like I really exist. You look at me the way no one has looked at me before. Not my mother, not my father, not anyone.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes, it is. It is true.”
Clancy smiled. “No it’s not. I know you and though they say you’re a Mediocre, I know you’re not.”
She smiled back at him. “What’s going to happen to me?”
Clancy held up the Union rulebook. “I found a loophole. It says here that-”
Hell interrupted.
There was a roar of fire and a sound like a rusty spike ripping through corrugated tin as the dimension was split with the arrival of Burkat. On the human plane of existence frogs fell from the sky, hundreds of fish died and rose to the surface, and an old man’s pacemaker seized up causing the man to collapse and die.
Heat, smoke, and sulfur billowed, and his rage shimmered in front of him. He fixed a murderous glare at Clancy.
“What are you doing?!”
“I was escorting the Mediocre to Hell when I, umm, I set down here as I had a momentary spell of dizziness. It has passed, sir, and we’ll be heading—”
“SHUT UP!”
Burkat stood inches in front of Clancy and let the full furnace blast of his bellow and halitosis wave over Clancy and Tracy.
Tracy bopped Burkat on the snout.
“Quit yelling.”
Burkat was momentarily stunned. It seemed to be quite the day for otherworldly beings getting slapped around. He quickly composed himself.
“My dear,” he purred, “I’m quite sure that your heart is in the right place and I am bound by Heavenly law from ripping it out of your ectoplasmic form at just this moment, but do be apprised that that little tap is going to cost you an additional eternity of torture and pain.”
Burkat smiled and showed her his three rows of sharp teeth.
Tracy gulped and if her corporeal self could turn pale it did.
Burkat whipped his head around and snapped at Clancy. “And you. I knew you would screw this up, but this…? You will be dismembered and removed from existence one sliver of skin at a time.”
“Sir, I’m sure I don’t understand—”
“SHUTUP YOU MISERABLE PUSTULE OF URINARY TRACT INFECTION!”
Clancy knew he wouldn’t make it out of this alive, but all he had to do was stall for, he checked his watch…
Burkat reached out, grabbed Clancy’s arm and yanked. The arm (and the watch) was ripped off, and Burkat swallowed the arm (and the watch) whole. Clancy could see the outline of the watch on what used to be his left wrist in Burkat’s throat until it disappeared with a gulp and a loud belch.
Thick green fluid spurted and flowed from Clancy’s left armpit.
Tracy screamed. Clancy scratched his jaw. No pain yet, but that was only because he was on this plane of existence. Once he got to Hell, the pain would wash over him. He assumed that this was just the beginning.
He had never let go of Tracy, and now Burkat held out his hand so that Clancy could relinquish control over her.
Clancy moved in front of Tracy. “No.”
Burkat looked amused rather than irritated. “Fine. There is still plenty of time to get this Mediocre to Hell and you will arrive armless.”
Heaven interrupted.
“There he is! That’s the one!”
Both Demons and human looked up as David pointed at them and screamed in frustration and rage. As the Angel did so, another Angel, far larger and muscular than David, swooped down, blindingly fast so that the Angel appeared to teleport. This Angel struck Burkat with an explosive crash. On the human plane of existence, a fire hydrant exploded, dogs howled, and birds fell dead from the sky.
“No, no, no, Gabriel. The other one. The one with only one arm.”
Gabriel had Burkat in a headlock and Burkat had a claw embedded in Gabriel’s thigh.
Gabriel said, “Oh.” He released Burkat, but Burkat wasn’t about to let go. As Gabriel tried to fly off towards Clancy, Burkat pulled him down, opened his jaws wide and chomped down on Gabriel’s head. Gabriel, his head in the Demon’s mouth up to just past his collarbone, pounded on Burkat’s head.
“Oh, my.” Tracy watched this spectacle with horror and awe.
“Don’t worry. They can’t really hurt each other.”
“What about you?” She gestured towards the fountain of green fluid pouring out of Clancy’s armpit.
“Oh, I’m fine. It’ll grow back. It’s just that those two really can’t do each other harm on this plane of existence. It’s in the rules.” Clancy sighed and looked at his stump. “However, Demons can hurt other Demons.”
“I really hate to interrupt this wonderful moment, but she’s mine, Clancy.” David was not smiling. “Hand her over.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Don’t make me use force.”
Clancy smiled. “Oh, really? You? And what’s Gabriel doing here?”
“He wanted to come. He insisted, oh, just you never mind why he’s here. You need to hand her over.”
Gabriel and Burkat were biting and clawing each other. The reasons for the fight seemed to have been lost on them and now they were just enjoying themselves.
David sighed. “Clancy. Seriously. You need to hand her over.”
“I don’t think so.”
A scream erupted from Tracy. Clancy held on tight.
David said, “Tracy, let go of Clancy and if you take my hand the pain will go away.”
Tracy didn’t understand where the pain was coming from, but her whole self was in agony. She doubled up and curled herself into a ball, but Clancy held on tight.
“Tracy, listen to me. This pain will pass. Only a little more time and the pain will pass.”
“Don’t listen to him, Tracy. He’s lying. He’s just trying to get you to Hell. If you take my hand you’ll be taken to Heaven and the pain will go away. Take my hand, Tracy.”
Tracy looked at David, at his Angelic face, through watering eyes as pain enveloped her. She started to reach for the Angel’s hand.
Clancy leaned in close to Tracy and said, “You are not a Mediocre and Heaven doesn’t deserve you. Not yet.”
Tracy screamed in agony.
She looked at Clancy through the gauze of pain
There was a rip in the sky and a thunderous crash that shook ten planes of existence. Volcanoes that were dormant erupted, blood seeped from the eyes of marble statues, and locusts destroyed over 1000 acres of farmland. Gabriel and Burkat stopped fighting. David hung his head. Clancy smiled. And Tracy’s pain melted away.
Tracy asked, “What happened?”
“I hope she was worth it, Clancy.” David flew off. Gabriel punched Burkat one last time and followed David.
“What happened?” Tracy felt herself becoming…loose.
“You’re free.” Clancy smiled.
“Am I going to heaven?” She seemed to be losing cohesion and focus. It was getting harder and harder to stay together.
“No.”? “Hell?”
Clancy’s smile was broader. “No.”
“Then…”
“It’s the loophole. If neither one of us can get the Mediocre to Heaven or Hell within the allotted timeframe you go back. For another chance. Make yourself more than a Mediocre.”
Tracy smiled. She said, “Thank y-” and was gone.
Burkat snorted. “So that was your good deed for the day, Clancy?”
Clancy scratched his shoulder where his arm was starting to grow back. “Yes.”
Burkat smiled, revealing every one of his teeth. Bits of feather were stuck in some of them where he had bitten Gabriel’s wings. “You’ll rot, Clancy. You gave up your existence just to give some Mediocre another shot at it. How sweet.”
“Yes, actually. Heaven would’ve relegated her to cleaning the streets of gold and tidying up the Angels’ beds. Nothing more than a slave, really. Hopefully, she’ll—”
Burkat roared with laughter. If Burkat had tear ducts, he would’ve been wiping tears of laughter from his reptilian eyes. “Oh, that’s a good one, Clancy. You’ve taken advantage of a rule that requires unanimous decisions from both Heaven and Hell, destroyed quite a few of the humans on this plane of existence, humans that even now are being picked up by us. For what? For her? She could go on to kill babies and secure herself a place in Hell for all you know. She’s a Mediocre, Clancy. She’ll always be a Mediocre. They all are, really.”
“I think you’re wrong.”
Burkat was still smiling. “Won’t matter. You’ll still be dying for the next thousand years for this little stunt.”
Clancy felt a tremor of fear. Did he throw his existence away for this…human? And he pictured the human named Tracy and remembered her smile and her hair and the way she talked to him, and the fear was replaced by something he couldn’t name, by something that was completely foreign to him, by something that enveloped him, that held him and comforted him, and made him smile.
Burkat’s Demonic grin disappeared when he saw a look of contentment cross Clancy’s face. Why wasn’t Clancy cowering in fear, begging for his worthless life? Clancy said, “It may very well be worth it.”
Burkat roared in rage, his mouth unhinging and extending, opening wide.
For the first time, Clancy was happy. Clancy said, “I am very hap—”
Burkat, still roaring, closed his mouth around Clancy, and swallowed him whole.
And in this manner, Clancy was carried back to Hell to begin his torture and dying for the next ten thousand years.
The rumors circulated about the Demon that defied Heaven and Hell, and, though the official story was that there was no story, it was rumored that Abaddon himself was in charge of the torturing and snuffing out of that Demon. It was also rumored that just as that Demon, screaming in agony, dismembered almost beyond recognition, barely able to click a claw or bat a leathery eyelid, it was said that the Demon still managed to smile and say to Abaddon’s face, “It was worth it”, just before the Demon’s remains exploded outward in a final burst of pain and finality. It was also said that Abaddon was in a funk for almost a week, and that it took thirty-six other Demons almost three days to wipe up all the remains from the nooks and crannies of Hell, working diligently before the love that still lived in those tiny pieces of Clancy managed to infect and soak through Hell.
In Heaven, David was despondent, but he wasn’t smart enough or imaginative enough to let it worry him for more than two minutes. He did fire off a memo to the Big Guy detailing what happened, and how he was blameless for the incident, managing to implicate Gabriel in so many words without actually saying outright that Gabriel was to blame, and that it would never happen again.
Heaven and Hell’s union representatives had their annual meeting, and during a secret get-together between the executives from both sides it was decided that the incident never happened. They closed the loophole in the rule book by unanimous decision, and it was never brought up again. Talk soon turned to blaming each other for improper quotas for souls.
***
She was walking along the edge of the broken sidewalk, stepping into the street, when she caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of her eye. She stopped. She looked up, but didn’t see anything. As she started on her way, a bus, doing more than the suggested speed limit, blew by her barely missing her. I almost got run down.
She was shaking by the time she made it back to work and she wondered how close to death she had come. I’ve gotta do something with my life.
And one hopes she did.
About the Author
The author was born in a rough and tumble upper-middle class neighborhood, where he learned to lie and tell stories to get the girls. Which explains why he never got the girls. But he’s never stopped lying.
©2009 Richmond Weems
