I have no idea why I stopped there. My trip across the US came to a sudden stop when I saw this abandoned old church. My journey had only one goal, to get away. A final destination? With the best will in the world, I had no fucking idea. A luxury to just disappear without having to worry about where to go, how, and when? Absolutely, I readily admit. But at the same time, somewhere deep inside of me, I feel a bit jealous of someone who works so hard and has no time to think. Or someone who has to work twelve or more hours a day just to make ends meet. Not of their whole life, but of what goes on in their brain. Too busy worrying about their lives and surviving. They don't have time for the bullshit that's going on in my brain.
I almost slammed on the brakes when I saw the old building. It was as if something flashed in my brain when I saw the church. My black Dodge Demon, the only thing I still cared about, came to a stop in front of the little building. A simple old church, the kind you see by the hundreds in the South. Small, a puny little tower that probably hid a church bell that hadn't rung in ages. It must have been nice and white once, but now the paint was peeling. The windows were provisionally nailed shut with a few boards. You could see that the dirty glass was broken in places. After I got out of the car and walked up the three steps to the double front door, I stood there for a moment and looked at the two boards that had been hastily nailed across the door. It didn't take much effort to pull them loose. The doors did not open so easily. Once inside, I was surprised to find that this must have once been a small Catholic church. The air was stale and I could see the dust swirling in the little sunlight that came in through the cracks in the boards. It looked like this church had been abandoned and boarded up in a hurry. Everything seemed to be still there. The little vessel that supposedly held the holy water at the entrance. Where you dip your fingertips and make the sign of the cross. In a side niche was the baptismal font. Instead of the familiar paintings on the walls of the fourteen stations of the Crucifixion, they turned out to be murals. Although they were hidden under a thick layer of dust, one could clearly see a mixture of traditional Catholicism, but with a Mexican and even Native American influence. The altar was bare, the things like the chalices and the crucifix they had obviously taken with them. However, they had left the large crucifix with Jesus hanging from the ceiling. I couldn't resist and murmured:
"Well, J, it looks like the successors to your twelve friends have hung you out to dry once again."
After wandering around the little church for a while, I sat down on a bench near the altar. I wondered what I was doing here. I felt tired and empty, so damn empty. Years ago I had fallen away from my faith. Not that I didn't believe in God and all that. No, I had decided at some point that I had had enough of the whole thing. I had seen too much, smelled too much, tasted too much. I still believed in the existence of God but after all I had seen that humans were capable off I had come to the conclusion that whatever plan He had, I wanted no part in it. First as a soldier on overseas missions, then as a journalist. I don't know how long I sat there, but suddenly a golden glow appeared in front of the altar. The light faded, and when it was gone, a human form remained. I say 'human' because this was not a human being, but clearly an angel. Small and somewhat petite in stature, a cross between Asian and Latina, but undeniably heavenly beautiful. Her gray, dove-like wings continued to give off a slight heavenly glow. As I sat there in thought, I must have been crying because my cheeks were wet. I wiped away the moisture, looked the angel sternly in the eye, and said sarcastically:
"If you think I am impressed now, you are sadly mistaken. I was already dead once and spent some time in the company of your colleagues down there. I wasn't impressed then either."
The Angel got a broad smile on her face and replied:
"I know. Luci and B&B told me that you almost made a young demon, Zelo, cry. Luci thought it would be best for you to return to Earth because your task was not yet complete. It was not your time yet, but Luci wanted to take a look at you."
I looked at her questioningly:
"I can place Luci, Lucifer. B&B? I didn't know there was a Bed and Breakfast in Hell."
"Bearus and Belios are generals. Well, not really generals anymore. His managers are more like it after he started to reform Hell shortly after his arrival in Hell."
"And heaven and hell are friendly with each other, I suppose since you say you talked to Lucifer."
"Sure, I talk to my big brother. He is my favorite brother, truly a riot to have around. Humanity, as usual, didn't understand much of anything. Briefly explained. Dad and Luci were arguing. Dad said that if he knew everything so well, then he should try to wear the crown himself. So he send his feathered ass downstairs and made Luci King of Hell. A kind of community service, you might say. Like you people make your kids do chores when they need a lesson. Luci arrived in Hell, saw that it was a mess, and went to work. Dad saw that he had learned his lesson in record time and let him back into Heaven. Luci, however, is a bullhead and decided to stay king, his work was not done, he said, and it is still not to his liking. So..."
"Okay, that sounds better than the bullshit in the Bible and all the other scriptures."
I pointed at the angel and asked rather sternly:
"To what do I owe your visit? Don't tell me I just had a heart attack or something and I'm dead as a doornail and you're coming to take me to heaven. I promise you, you won't like me any more than your brother's little demon liked me."
A sincere smile appeared on the angel's face and she came to sit next to me on the bench after she made her wings disappear. She looked straight into my eyes with the most beautiful blue eyes that that I have ever seen and seemed to harbor a speck of purple which were filled with joy:
"Oh no, Marcus, you are not dead. I'm here to talk to you and tell you that you have an important task ahead of you. It took you a fucking long time to get here, man."
I'm sure a smirk appeared on my face as I replied:
"Girl, does your daddy know you use that kind of language?"
She nodded vigorously and said:
"Where do you think I learned it? An old Marine is nothing compared to Dad when he gets all worked up about you people. Mom, on the other hand, is a whole different story."
I looked at her for about three seconds and then burst out laughing. Finally I replied:
"I knew God had a sense of humor the first time I saw the platypus."
The Angel chuckled:
"That wasn't just Dad. It was Luci who kept refilling Dad's glass and fanning the flames by saying Dad couldn't do this or that. The result was that Dad got pretty drunk, and now you have the platypus to scratch your heads over."
"Let me guess. That's why Australia exists. Lucifer stirred up his pap a little bit because he was bored, and God knew there was no other solution than to dump all that stuff on that remote continent. Man, everything wants to kill you down there, even the kangaroos..."
And again the angel laughed out loud.
"Marcus, you are a firecracker. No wonder B&B and Luci like you."
"You know my name, may I know yours and what the hell are you doing here in the middle of nowhere?"
She looked at me with her piercing blue eyes and said:
"This is not the middle of nowhere. This is Florence, Louisiana. My name is Casiel, I'm what some people call a Watcher, some say a Guardian Angel, but that's a myth. We don't intervene, free will, you know. When we interfere, free will disappears. What I came here to tell you is that you have a job to do here."
I closed my eyes for a moment to calm myself a bit and said wearily:
"You contradict yourself, girl. You are not allowed to interfere because otherwise free will disappears, and yet you are interfering here for some reason. So according to your logic, my free will disappears. I don't really appreciate that. But okay, I'll bite. What task?"
"Florence is a special place. Father has special plans for it. But Florence is waiting for a leader, you!"
"Two things, honey. One, whoever named this place Florence had a hell of an imagination and could have made a fortune in Hollywood. Second, I'm not a leader."
Casiel looked at me smugly and said:
"You were an officer in the military, your people would say otherwise."
"That's different Casiel, that's military. I suppose Florence is not filled to the brim with soldiers who need an officer."
"No, a few veterans, but mostly civilians."
"As I said, dear Angel, I am not a leader. You know my name, right?"
"Sure, you're Marcus."
Now I was really starting to get a little tired of the word games and certainly of the optimism and positivity that seemed to ooze from her pores."
"No, honey, that's not my name. That's what it says on my papers. My real name, the name that branded me for what I am."
Suddenly I heard a heavy male voice behind me:
"You mean the Grim Reaper?"
I turned with a jerk and reached for my gun. But my hand found nothing. My brain finally caught up with my actions and I remembered that I had been a civilian for some time and that my gun was neatly stored in my car, as required by law. I saw a man standing there, six feet, maybe a little more, athletically built, about forty, elegant, dark hair with a swoop, neatly cut. Navy blue three-piece tailored suit that definitely cost a number with some zeros in it. His eyebrows went up a fraction when he saw me reach for the non-existent gun. Without another word, he stood in front of me and the Angel. He snapped his fingers and a comfortable chair appeared. He saw me looking at it and said sarcastically:
"What, this is Prada, you don't think I'm going to sit on a dusty bench, do you?"
The angel's smile widened. Any wider and her face would have been torn to shreds. She gave the newcomer a little wave and said excitedly:
"Hi Luci!"
"Hi, little sis... And is he a bit of a jackass like we thought?"
She giggled and replied:
"He actually reminds me of you, brother."
"Dad, save us... One of me is more than enough as far as I'm concerned."
He looked at me with his hazel eyes and a mischievous smile played around his lips.
"The Grim Reaper... Azrael was not and is not happy about it, you know. My little brother, the Angel of Death, cultivated that nickname and took special pride in how cool it was. Until a human started walking around with it. Worse. Ask any human who they would rather go with, Azrael or you, and they all choose Azrael because they are more afraid of you when you are in a tantrum..."
My green eyes looked right into his and I said:
"I take it you are the favorite brother of this Angel who seems to have swallowed a truckload of happy pills, Lucifer?"
He laughed at the remark and said:
"I see you already have her number. And yes, I am Lucifer, The Devil, Satan, The Boogeyman, Baba Yaga, Old Scratch, etc..."
I shook my head for a moment and muttered:
"Either God made you even dumber than humans, or you really don't think straight. I'm not a fucking leader! I don't save people, I send them to hell, as you should know very well, MyKing..."
He nodded a few times and his answer was something I hadn't expected at all.
"Yes, exactly. Tell me, would you call John Wick a bad person?"