"Do you have any weapons on you today?" the officer asked, with his knees digging into the small of my back as I lay helplessly in the street.
"No," I mumbled, through a mouthful of rocks.
Beside me, Bishop, likewise prone, was already handcuffed.
More police were starting to arrive from other counties. As I was dragged off to one of the many cars now occupying farm yard, a fire truck appeared.
Instead of being face down in the dirt or bound, Asmodeus was talking animatedly with two male officers, one hand on his hip and the other twirling his hair.
I heard him say, "A weapon? Oh my god, you are too funny."
The officers both stood rigid and mute, staring at him, until the one kneeling over Bishop joined them.
"What are you doing," he asked.
"She's innocent," mumbled an officer, whose large hands were nervously flexing, in a monotone voice.
Asmodeus looked at the new comer and said, "It is all a misunderstanding."
"Oh," he said, walking back around the car to release Bishop. "Sorry about that, Ma'am."
Then, without a word to each other, all the first responders there perked up like prairie dogs smelling a lion, stared into the sky a moment, and walked back to their vehicles. As they started to leave, I shouted "Hey" from the back seat where I was trapped, but the officer driving didn't seem to notice. When I looked out the rearview window, Asmodeus flipped me off with a smile.
The backseat of the squad car was clean to the naked eye, but smelled like urine. There was a faded stain of something brown on the floor. Noxious fumes poured in from the heater vent and I wondered how the officer worked without succumbing to carbon monoxide poisoning. Beatboxing over the sound of radio chatter, he drove through the empty roads without a care. Feeling low spirited and light-headed, I rested against the grate between us.
Then thought about how many germs were probably on it.
I sat up and tried to keep as little of myself from touching the inside of the car as I could. Eventually it pulled into a vacant lot, where the officer let it idle. He pulled out his phone, dialed, and was on long enough for me to hear the voicemail pick up.
"Bitch," he said, flinging it into the passenger seat. "I hate this."
I hate this
I perked up at that. It may seem foolish but, though I was helplessly adrift at that moment, I had not forgotten my real purpose was to become immortal again. And hear was a human, hating in my very presence! I felt it must be a sign from God.
"What do you hate?" I asked.
The officer jumped, placing a hand on his holster. "Who the fuck are you?"
"You just picked me up," I helpfully reminded him.
"Oh right. The chase," he said, smacking himself on the temple.
"And you hate?"
"You like a therapist or something?" he said.
"Or something," I replied.
"Shut up."
He turned around in his seat and backed the car out. Soon we were back traveling through the city. I thought he had forgotten I was there again until he said, "It's my wife."
I leaned forward encouragingly.
"I hate her. She has no time for me anymore. She's always out with her friends or taking care of the kids. She doesn't answer my calls. Just ignores me," he said.
"Have you tried talking to her?"
"I am not really a talk-about-my-feelings sort of guy." he said. "Besides, she should know. I'm her husband, for God's sake."
Wearing my honest face, I spoke with all the grave wisdom I've gleaned from hours of Doctor Phil. "Marriage is about communication. She can't know you are hurting if you don't tell her. I encourage you to talk."
"Yeah, maybe you are right."
"And try to keep in mind why you married her in the first place", I say. "What made you fall in love?"
"Oh, I knew from the moment I saw her," he said wistfully.
I was good at this! I could council human hearts all day. At this rate, I'd be an angel again in no time.
"There you go. And just because she doesn't always answer your calls doesn't mean she doesn't love you, or that she's cheating..."
"Cheating?" he said. "Cheating. I never thought of that. You think she could be? Again?"
"No," I said quickly, but he didn't seem to hear.
"All I do for her, and this is the thanks I get. I can't believe it," he said.
"I really don't think she is cheating..."
"What do you know? She's out all night. Never answers her phone. Always texting other people. She's fucking cheating! Why didn't I think of this? If it's that son of a bitch Oscar Valentino again, I will shove his head so far up his butt they'll need the jaws of life to get it out," he raged.
"I..."
"Shut up," he yelled. "Who the fuck are you anyway?"
The car pulled into the police station and came to rest near an entrance around the back of the building. The officer glared at me over his shoulder, and demanded, "What is your name?"
"Kokabiel," I said.
"What?"
"Kokabiel," I repeated.
"What is your full name, asshole?"
"That is my full name."
You better have some identification on you." He pushed open the car door and got out his cuffs.
"I don't."
"Then what is your fucking name?" he yelled in my face.
"I just told you."
"Alright, asshole. One more time..."
......
My time at the county jail was not spent blissfully. The police did not believe my name was Kokabiel anymore than they believed I lacked a social security number. They certainly didn't believe I was born before the concept of time. They did, however, believe me to be the driver of the car that led two of their officers on a high-speed chase. I was assured I was in a lot of trouble and put in a large cell with five other potential criminals awaiting processing and individual cells.
Because it was a Saturday, I was told I would have to wait longer, but for what I wasn't sure. I just knew I had some time to kill and five human hearts to lift the burden of hate from. And what hate they had! But by the third threat of bodily harm, I admitted defeat and settled into a corner to gnaw on an abortion of an attempt of a sandwich an indifferent guard had given me. I think it was peanut butter.
By lights out I was thoroughly miserable. I had just shut my eyes when a guard approached the cell, unlocked the door and motioned me forward. His unnaturally handsome face was frozen in a scowl, as his black eyes raked over me.
"You!" I said.
"I am only doing this because Bishop asked me to," he said.
"Oh, and you are so dedicated to him," I laughed.
Wordlessly, the demon yanked me forward. We walked through the jail and out a door into a long semi-dark hallway painted white. Scuffs and scrapes on the floor gave the impression a great many people had been dragged down this hall against their will. My clothes and shoes were in an untidy pile near the door at the end and I hastened to put them on. The door was featureless but for the lock which clicked as Asmodeus ran a key tag over the scanner.
We exited near a desk, where a surprised female officer, with small glittering eyes and a blond bob said, "What are you..."
Then her face went blank and she sank back down into her chair.
"What have you done to her?" I said.
"I'm mesmerizing them," Asmodeus said, walking past the guard. "It's easy. Humans are pretty stupid."
"That is how you got all those cops to let you go?"
"They saw what they wanted to see," he said. "Once you get their dicks pointed in the right direction, they follow right along."
"Like Bishop?" I did not hide my disgust.
Once outside, the warm fall air wrapped around me like a thick blanket. I breathed in the scent of mulch and decaying leaves. Freedom.
"Bishop? Get off your high cloud. You aren't even his guardian anymore. Let him make his own choices," he said.
"Says the demon who mesmerizes people and steals their souls?" I pointed out.
Together we walked down the narrow sidewalk, side by side, because I refused to walk behind him and didn't want my back to him. We went through a grassy overgrown lot, a small stand of trees, and out onto a road vacant but for a black Chevy Tahoe. As we drew near, I noticed Bishop in the passenger seat looking nervously out the window.
"Whose car is this?" I asked the demon suspiciously. "Is this stolen?"
"You can't expect me to drive a'95 Roadmaster."
"And a Tahoe is so much cooler?"
"It's inconspicuous," said Asmodeus.
"Hi, Koke. Sorry you got arrested." Bishop poked his head out the window. "But we better get out of here if we don't want it to happen again.
"I can't do this." I whispered to myself. I tallied up my transgressions so far: consorting with demons, being arrested, stealing cars. So much sinning.
"Come on," said Asmodeus. "We'll let you ride up front."
My hand reached for the door.
......
There were a dozen little boys in the bathroom and as many little girls in the ladies' room by my guess. They had all come from a red bus with the words 'Holy Trinity Christian Homeschool and Beyond Kid's Club' written on it and were parked, like us, in front of a woodsy rest stop. A woman of about sixty, with gray hair and a look of terror accompanied the children. They were mostly just playing in the stalls, peaking over the tops of them, or piling into one or the other. I needed one of those toilets direly.
If I were the demon, I would probably just throw them out of the way. I supposed demons could get away with that with no remorse, but since I had remorse I turned and walked out. Instead I took the sloping hill behind the bathrooms down into the trees. There was a path there and I followed it for a good while, making sure I got far away from the prying eyes of the children, before I veered off the trail.
When I found a good tall tree, I settled in, and as I put my hands on my zipper heard a small voice call out, "Are you going to pee in the woods?"
I jumped in surprise and turned to see a girl of about seven or eight, with static blonde halo dancing a ring around her head.
"No!"
"My mom lets me pee in the woods sometimes," she said. "Like when I am camping."
"Well, I wasn't," I said.
"Oh, okay." She only looked half convinced. "Are you looking for me?"
"Nope," I replied.
"Only I ask because I am a little lost. My name is Henley."
I glanced back at the hill behind me. The bathrooms couldn't be seen. The little girl picked at her purple leggings.
"Are you with the Holy Trinity Christian School, um for Kids?" I asked.
"Holy Trinity Christian Homeschool and Beyond Kid's Club. And yes," she said. "Do you know of it? We are from a pretty small town so..."
"No, I saw your bus. I'll take you back. My name is, er, Koke," I said.
"Koke?" she laughed.
I walked back towards the trail and she obediently followed with a total disregard for stranger danger.
"I got lost when I came out here but I only came out here cause Ellory Fitzpatrick made me so mad. I asked her if she wanted to play Battle Cheetahs. I said 'You can be Champion Rumblepurr and I will be Prince Tallfoot of the Spotted Ranger Tribe.' But she told me that only babies played Battle Cheetahs! I was like, 'Have you even read the books?'"
"What is Battle Cheetahs," I asked.
Roaring, she suddenly sprang in front of me and pounced on a mushroom.
"They're Cheetah warriors! You haven't read the books?" she asked.
"Can't say that I have," I said.
"Well maybe you should," she said, launched into the astounding number of books in the series she had read.
She started to slow down as the laughter of her comrades filtered through the trees, and all but stopped when the bathrooms came into view. I motioned her to keep going but she asked me instead what books I HAD read and if any of them were kids' books.
"Henley!" A far away voice, which sounded quite panicked, called.
"I don't want to go back. I hate Ellory Fitzpatrick," the little girl said.
Maybe my time had come.
"You should try to forgive, Henley. Hatred will only make you a bitter person. Hate hurts you more than it hurts her."
"Not if I hit her!" said Henley.
"Eh, true," I conceded. "But violence is never the solution to a problem. You should talk to Ellory about how she hurt you. You can resolve it with words. Maybe you can become friends."
"I don't want to be friends with her."
Why was this so hard?
"Okay, fine. Then tell her you will stop acting like a cheetah when she stops acting like a bitchy, mean, old adult. How about that?" I said, perhaps a bit too impatient.
"Yeah!" She brightened and skipped up the hill. "I'm gonna tell her she's bitchy."
I sighed and followed her. When we rounded the corner of the bathrooms, her teacher rushed over, seized Henley's wrist, and dragged her a safe distance away from me. She aimed an outraged glare in my direction, then started cooing over the girl who made an effort to reassure her I wasn't a kidnapper. The children were all lined up along the sidewalk so I took my chance and used the restroom. When I came out, Henley was in the middle of the line, whispering into another girl's ear.
The second little girl burst into tears, began nodding her head and hugged a surprised Henley around the waist. They patted each other's backs and as I walked back to the car, smiling and knowing I had against all odds just changed a human heart, both of them waved to me.
"You took long enough," said Bishop as I climbed into the backseat.
"Not that your presence was in any way missed," said Asmodeus.