Chapter 17: Men’s Night Out

I met Thomas at our favorite Irish pub, “The Hole in the Wall.” Alcohol didn’t affect us anymore, but it was a familiar place with some good memories. Our buddy Joey was there, and I wanted to spring Marcus on Thomas since he didn’t know I found him. Marcus hadn’t arrived yet.

Our topic of discussion glossed over mixed relationships and progressed toward equal rights in the sixties. Thomas began, “My grandfather was an activist in the sixties. His progressive thinking at the time made him a lot of enemies. He told me he was originally in a mixed relationship, but it eventually failed because of social pressure at the time.” Thomas paused to take a sip of beer before continuing. “You will never believe what he told me just before he kicked the bucket.”

I was intrigued. “Yea, what’s that?”

He placed his hand on my shoulder and looked at me seriously. He took a deep breath as if he was reliving a painful memory. “He said, Thomas, you will never believe how far I can kick this bucket.”

Joey groaned, and I shoved him away playfully. Thomas burst out in a laugh.

I heard a small band getting ready to play just as I saw Marcus come through the door. Sneaking up behind Thomas, he placed his hand on one shoulder and a pretend finger gun against Thomas’s head.

“Pop quiz, hotshot. There’s a bomb on a bus. Once the bus goes 50 miles per hour, the bomb is armed. If it drops below 50, it blows up. What do you do? What do you do?” Marcus quoted the movie.

“Don’t drive over 50 miles per hour, dumbass.” Thomas laughed and spun around. He saw Marcus, who laughed in return.

Thomas’s eyes went wide when he saw Marcus for the first time and crashed into him in an embrace. Stepping back, he said, “Pretty Boy Goldman. Holy fucking shit, they’ll let anyone in here. How the hell are you?”

“Doing good. I had a bit of a rough patch recently, but Isiah made short work of it. I work for Miss Richards now.” He said with a slightly somber tone.

“Lauren? No shit! Me too! We’re like twinzies again. Hey Joey, meet Marcus. He was our boat operator when we were in the teams. He yanked us out of some hot situations. We wouldn’t be standing here today if it weren’t for him.”

Joey nodded in greeting and held up a beer in salute but said with dry humor. “Another fucking squid? Great.”

“Don’t mind him. He is one of Uncle Sam’s Misguided Children. (USMC) The Marines forgot to issue him a sense of humor. I was thinking. Do you know how there is a Marine and Navy Ball every year? There is even an Army Ball. Do you think the Space Corps will have Space Balls?”

Joey chuckled and shook his head. Marcus burst out in a laugh. “You haven’t changed.”

I gave a beer to Marcus, who accepted it with a gracious thanks.

“The fuck are you wearing? You look like a European glam rocker. Since when do you like Rush?” Thomas jibed Marcus.

Marcus was wearing a Rush t-shirt which looked too small. It looked nearly form fit to his upper body showing off his arms and shoulders. He was also wearing skinny jeans with black boots. Miscellaneous jewelry adorned his wrists and neck. His thick brown hair seemed to have been the object of some attention also. He appeared to be in excellent physical shape.

Marcus looked down at his shirt and smiled as if recalling a pleasant memory. “It was a gift. I couldn’t say no.”

“Are you still crashing the waves as I showed you?” Thomas asked, referring to surfing.

“Off and on, I don’t have a board,” he answered.

“How about tomorrow morning?” Thomas’s smile couldn’t have been broader. Thomas slapped him on the shoulder when he agreed.

Marcus looked speculative for a moment regarding Thomas. “Hey, are you still into all types of water sports like before?”

Thomas cast a nervous glance toward me and tilted his head to answer, “You can say I spend just as much time in the water as always.”

Marcus’s smile lit up, “What would you say to come to work me?”

Thomas groaned and tilted his head back in dramatic exasperation. “You want to start talking business already? Before we start doing that, let’s have a toast.”

Thomas held up his beer, and the four of us clinked glasses. He started a toast.

“Here’s to the women we’ve met and to the women we’ve fucked.

And to those among us who’ve had no such luck. (pointing at Joey, who flipped him the finger)

Here’s to beer in the glass and whiskey in the cup.

Here’s to fucking her in the ass so she won’t get knocked up.

Here’s to all of you, and here’s to me,”

He slung his arms around Marcus and Joey.

“Together as friends, we’ll always be, but should we ever disagree,

then FUCK ALL OF YOU! HERE’S TO ME!” Then downed his beer.

Jokes continued back and forth. Joey got into the spirit and even offered his toast. “Here’s to virgins. Thanks for fucking nothing.” Joey said in his typical dry, deadpan delivery.

“Ha! No shit! Does the Corp know you stole back your sense of humor?” Thomas jibed.

The band started playing, and my back turned to the stage. The first song of the set turned out to be Knocking on Heaven’s Door. A woman started singing, and in the first few bars, Thomas elbowed me. “Isiah, look who it is.”

I turned to look. My mouth almost dropped open in shock. Rachel stood on the makeshift stage in a form-fitted, low-cut, black cocktail dress. Her large breasts spilling out the top and her shoulders were bare. Her long flowing red hair hung over one shoulder. The dress was ankle length, and a long single slit exposed one of her well-shaped legs. She was a sight to behold and very comfortable singing in front of a crowd of rowdy vets. Her singing varied in tone. Her voice started with a smokey coffee house tone, and by the end of the song, she was hitting high notes clearly and easily.

Thomas elbowed me, “Damn, buddy, she looks good. Who knew she could sing so well?”

Not wanting to be seen by her, I wished I could be invisible. Who knew what would happen if we faced each other again. I tried not to look at her and focused mainly on my beer or Marcus. She was understandably hostile, and I didn’t want to ruin her night. I didn’t realize she had such musical talent, but it made sense she could mesmerize a crowd. I remembered the blessing we laid on her. Could that have awakened a hidden talent?

There is a list of people I wouldn’t expect to stroll through the door tonight. Top of that list would be my real angelic father, Michael the Archangel, and Nathanial, aka Man Bun. Man Bun saw us and stood at our table. Yesterday, I invited them to our men’s night out but didn’t expect them actually to come. They both greeted me with a nod, but Thomas had his ideas. He hugged them too. He isn’t the type to do that usually, but he was in rare form tonight. Both of the mighty angels received it uncomfortably. Nathaniel didn’t stay. He moved to the other side of the room to watch everyone. He must be Bree’s replacement. Nathaniel wasn’t going to be socializing, it seemed. Good thing he just missed Thomas’s toast.

Off to the other side of Joey, I heard a couple of young guys comment crudely about Rachel.

What they said must have struck a nerve with Joey because he responded viciously and slapped a young guy on the back of his head.

“That’s someone’s daughter, you ignorant fuck stick. Show a little respect. She isn’t a piece of meat.” He glared at the two guys menacingly until they became uncomfortable enough to move somewhere else. Most seasoned marines know how to make their voice heard. He was no exception.

The four of us went quiet at Joey’s outburst. When he saw his effect, he downed his beer and stood up to leave. Thomas stopped him.

“Hey, what’s that about?”

“Nothing,” he responded irritably. He said nothing for a moment before adding. “One day, when you have a daughter of your own, you’ll understand.”

“Understand what?” Thomas asked

“When a man has a daughter, his life changes dramatically. He doesn’t look at his own or others’ behavior the same way. You hold your behavior to a higher standard and, at some level, expect others to do the same. You may tell yourself you would give your life for your brothers or friends, but that’s nothing compared to what you will do for your children.”

The tough Marine’s hands were visibly shaking. He balled them into fists when he realized it. “There is nothing you won’t do. No obstacles will get in your way to protect her. Hell, your daughter could rip your beating heart from your chest and eat it in front of you. The only objection you may have is that she could at least take small bites, so she doesn’t choke.”

His breath was catching, and his eyes glistened. “You would protect her from yourself if it ever came to it. No matter what’s she’s done, she will always be your little girl.”

It was just then everyone in the bar froze in place.

Thomas

Joey was staring at the ground with his fists balled at his sides.

Looking around, only three people were moving, Michael, myself, and an old guy behind the bar making a mixed drink. I recognized the old guy. The last time I saw the old man, I died, went to heaven, and he sent me back. He also unlocked my divinity and scared the shit out of me.

He was tall with a long white beard, and for the longest time, I thought of him as Dumbledore the Archangel. Until Bree told me who he was.

This time, he wore a Hawaiian print button-up shirt, white shorts, and sandals. I got the impression he just came from a Jimmy Buffett concert.

Oh shit, it was God himself. I hope Jimmy Buffett isn’t my choice for music in heaven for eternity. I would change my allegiance.

“Please let those be inside thoughts.” I caught myself thinking.

To answer my question, he said, “I rather like J.K. Rowling.” to no one in particular.

Gulp! I looked over at Michael, who was casually looking down at his water glass.

“So!” I say, drawing out the word. “What brings you here? Care for a beer?”

“Being here isn’t all that hard. You blessed the place thoroughly.” He replied, ignoring my beer comment.

“I did?” That was news to me.

God looked over at Michael, who glanced up at me and nodded. It occurred to me; his mannerisms were a lot like Isiah’s.

Michael cleared his throat. “It’s been a slow process. Since your divinity unlocked, you have been trickling energy into this place. You come here to socialize and raise the spirits of your friends. They confide in their struggles, and in turn, you give a little bit of yourself in doing so. That’s not all. You have a determined mission to help people who are struggling with PTSD. You refer to them as demon fighters. People that are still haunted by the demons of war. For about a month now, no one who has come here has had any problems. Your friend noticed it. It’s why he comes here as often as he does. He holds you in high regard.”

The three of us turned to look at Joey, who still stood fists balled at his sides.

“How can I bless this place? I thought I only had an affinity for water. A blessing like this doesn’t seem like something I should be able to do.”

The old man poured the drink he was working on into a cup. He gave it an umbrella and a straw. “You can bless this place because it was your will. The divinity you have been given has an aptitude for water, but it isn’t restricted to just water. Your power was increased when you bonded with the angels in the way you did. The Host is extremely slow to change. They use their divinity the only way they know. A seraph will look at it differently because his experiences are different. The Fallen decide to use their power the way they do to spite me.

“That’s not how I learned it before.” I objected.

“That’s because you were being taught by angels who only know one way to use it. Anyway, enough of that. Let’s talk about Joey.”

Michael the Archangel began talking. “Sad story. His trauma is severe. He has a six-year-old daughter and a wife, which he loves greatly. He met his wife in the Philippines, and she patiently made him into a different person. When he retired, he was hoping the night terrors would go away. Loud noises spook him, and he has a hard time being in open spaces. He was sleeping with his wife one night when a night terror overtook him. When he came to, he was strangling her. He started attended meetings and sleeping alone in a separate room. One day, his young daughter had a bad dream and wanted to join him in bed. Unfortunately, he had a night terror and just like with his wife. He woke up strangling his daughter.”

I only whistled and shook my head, not knowing.

“As you may have guessed, he was very close with his daughter, and he took it badly. He still attends church with his family but doesn’t live with them. He lives in a cheap motel near here, and the rest of his money is spent supporting his family.”

I thought about the conversations I’ve had with Joey. He dropped hints, but I never picked up on the subtle clues.

“Pardon me for asking but, there are a lot of people like him. Why the interest in him specifically?”

God just looked at me with a slightly puzzled look. “Because they ask me for my help routinely.” He stated this in a tone that left out the word “duh.”

He began to mix another drink. “Also, his wife is a very pious and good woman. Ariel was responsible for their pairing years ago. His wife even now is praying tearfully for his return.”

“I would be remiss in mentioning your role in his life also brings him to my attention.”

I thought about what he said so far. “If he doesn’t have any more night terrors, why hasn’t he returned to his family?”

“He doesn’t trust himself and feels he needs to be punished,” Michael interjected.

A sad look crossed God’s face, and for that very moment, I felt terrible for both of them.

“What can we do? We can’t force him to do what he doesn’t want,” I object logically.

“He needs a little encouragement. I can help with that.” the Archangel responded.

“No, my friend, I will handle this myself.” God walked around the bar and stood in front of Joey. He placed a hand on his shoulder then closed his eyes. After a moment, Joey blinked his eyes. He stared at God in confusion. Without a word, he clenched his jaw, wiped his eyes, and walked out the door.”

“What just happened?” I ask

“We had a private conversation. I suggested it was okay to return to his family. His night terrors will no longer haunt him. Additionally, he will have a second daughter soon, and they’ll need him. The conversation was considerably longer than that. I’m only paraphrasing.”

“His wife is pregnant?”

“She will be after tonight,” God said, smiling. “Before you ask, no one will think anything of his absence. They will all remember being angry with the young man and leaving after Joey’s explanation to you.”

“Is Joey why you came?” I ask, accepting his explanation.

God shook his head sadly. “Did you know Eve wasn’t the first woman I created?”

I was stunned. The abrupt turn in conversation confused me. I thought about it. Every reference I’ve ever seen describes Adam and Eve as the first created pair.

“I’m not surprised. Before Eve, I created Lilith. Lilith was very eager to have children. However, Adam and Lilith didn’t get along. Adam was a flawed man and made demands of her, and she disagreed. She left the Garden of Eden and eventually ran across the Fallen. Eve had similar problems with Adam, but I gifted her with an ability now present in Isiah. Lilith blames me for everything that’s gone wrong and hates me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. It must be terrible for you.” Was I consoling God?

God sat down where Joey was seated and looked out the door where he left. “What he said about his daughter, that’s how I feel about Lilith. I won’t make her do what she doesn’t want. After all this time, I hope someday she will return to me. I love her dearly.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Knowing it was unlikely, I could do anything.

“I’m afraid her returning to me is a decision only she can make. If you can convince her by any chance, then I will be more grateful than I can express.” He seemed to consider what he said, then added, “She doesn’t need to return to me. I would like it if she stopped hating me.”

“How will I find her?”

“You won’t. Your paths will cross on their own. Be warned. Lilith is a very cunning and powerful demon queen now.”

“No pressure,” I commented sarcastically.

“I know it’ll be hard.”

I waved it away dismissively. “Hard? I can do hard right now. The impossible takes more planning.”

“Don’t forget your drinks.” He said with a helpful tone and smiling at my comment.

I eyed the drinks warily. “Don’t get me wrong, but if I get caught drinking something with an umbrella and straw in this bar, I will have my man card revoked, shredded, and burned. There is no statute of limitations for that faux pas.”

God rolled his eyes, and I heard the Archangel snort a laugh. Then dramatically lifted the umbrellas and straws then threw them over the bar.

“I call it Heaven and Hell.” he held up his glass in cheers. I touched glasses with him and realized it was pretty good. He would make a good bartender.

God vanished, and time resumed.

Isiah

I watched Joey’s tirade and almost intervened but thought better of it. He left, and I knew in the back of my mind, he would be okay.

Rachel was, of course, getting lots of attention. Several of the vets in the crowd made their way to the stage to get a better look. One even went so far as to try to approach her between a song. Rachel smiled gently and held up her hand to halt the man. She shook her finger at him reproachfully before a bouncer escorted him back to his seat. She was in her element until Thomas decided he wanted her to sing a song. Rachel noticed him for the first time. Her smile faded and, she looked a little nervous. He ignored her almost entirely but held his hand up in greeting. Instead, he waved over the guitarist and spoke to him for a few minutes. The guitarist nodded and even smiled when he was handed a wad of cash. The guitarist returned to his bandmates to issue instructions. Rachel fetched a tablet for the lyrics. So, what was the song he decided to drop so much money?

The Devil went down to Georgia. The guitarist picked up the violin parts, and Rachel even used a slight accent for embellishment. Thomas was delighted. He danced around and even slapped his knee in time with the beat. Rachel relaxed and even laughed along with Thomas’s antics.

Marcus was introduced to Michael as my father, and the introduction seemed to please my father. The pair seemed to hit it off, and I took a moment to watch Rachel perform. She looked happy, and that, in turn, made me smile.

The song ended with cheers and applause. Thomas clapped dramatically and loudly said his thanks to the band.

At the microphone, Rachel leaned into the microphone. “This next song goes out to my unnamed hero. Which, I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for you.” The guitarist grabbed an acoustic guitar. The guitarist and Rachel performed the song, Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd.

She closed her eyes holding the microphone with both hands. Emotion flooded into the music, and her curvy hips swayed back and forth. I remembered the way she moved working at the strip club and how she looked without clothes. She knew how to entice someone with her form. She was holding back and instead focused on singing her song. Just like the rest of the crowd, I fixated my attention on her.

Three-quarters of the way through the song, she opened her eyes, and our eyes met. Her eyes went wide, and for the first time, she stumbled in a piece. Rachel narrowed her eyes angrily, and I turned my back.

Thomas was at my side. “What’s up with that? Why is she so hostile toward you? You saved her life.”

I sighed. “Because my mouth ran away with itself when we first met, and it got Rachel into a lot of trouble. She received a severe beating.”

“Yea, but you still saved her life. More than once, I may add. Why would you let her treat you like that?”

Thomas doesn’t push my buttons often. I’m not sure why this did, but I was getting spun up inside. “Because that woman is made of iron. The things she was forced to endure are beyond anything you can imagine. She didn’t need to either. She did it for her little brother. Rachel would have given up her very soul to make sure he was okay.” I didn’t realize it, but my voice was getting louder.

“She was tortured, tormented, and raped by things far beyond her ability to fight. She did whatever she needed to do to survive. How many soldiers have you met who were nearly broken just from resistance training alone? Look at her. She thrives. She may have been beaten up, but she wasn’t beaten down. Not only did she live through it all, but she gave everyone the middle fucking finger on the way out. She doesn’t need to like me. There is no way I couldn’t respect her grit and her sheer presence of will. All I did was make her suffering worse.”

I stood up at some point during my rant, and things went silent around me. The band wasn’t playing and must have taken a break. I turned to look toward the stage. Rachel was standing close behind me with her arm extended as if she would touch my back. Tears were in her eyes, and she dropped her arm and crossed them across her stomach.

“Fuck!” I thought to myself. “I did it again.” my stomach sank. Seeing her cry was much worse than seeing her pissed off.

“That’s not how it felt.” She said weakly. “I just wanted him to be safe.”

I shook my head. “I can’t seem to say the right thing around you, Rachel. I’m sorry, I’m trying to leave you alone.” Turning abruptly, I left.

She yelled after me, “Wait!” but I ignored her, and no sooner was I out of sight than the scenery changed.

Looking around, I seemed to be in a large open living room. However, one wall was utterly glass and overlooked a massive metropolitan city, Chicago, maybe? The room was furnished in a contemporary black and white design with macabre artwork lining the walls. In the middle of the room was a two-sided fireplace. One side was painted white but had black decor. The other half was painted black with white decor. The fireplace raged with fire between the two halves.

There was a double door leading from the room, and to the side of the door stood a guard. The guard was an average-looking white guy except for how he was dressed.

I shit you not. The douchebag was wearing a World War 2 German SS uniform. Standing at the window of the white-painted half stood a black-haired man. He was tall, perhaps six-three, and dressed in very formal business attire.

We noticed each other at approximately the same time. The stranger was a good-looking guy, and upon seeing me, a large smile broke his features.

“Isiah! It’s terrific to see you.” He quickly walked over to me and placed both hands on the side of my shoulders. His reaction seemed genuine. My confused reaction was real too.

“You don’t know me, and that’s my fault. I’m your uncle.”

He must have noticed the scowl on my face because he held up both hands palm out. “Your REAL uncle.” then paused, waiting for me to realize for myself who he was.

An uncle is the brother of my father, and that would be,

“Lucifer,” I said in shock, finally putting it together.

He bowed his head in acknowledgment. I’m sorry to pull you away from your friends, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t be welcome in your previous company. I will, of course, return you any time you ask. I am just hoping we could have a brief conversation before I do.”

“A conversation?” I was irritated. I also couldn’t get out of my head the Nazi guard standing nearby. “Is this some sick joke?”

“I assure you, all I want to do is talk,” he responded a bit defensively.

“No, I mean him.” pointing at the guard.

“That’s not my doing. The owner of the building employs him.”

I was taking a closer look. The guard wasn’t a demon. He was just a human scumbag. Stalking over to the guard, I loomed over him. “Take off your clothes,” I ordered. The guard said nothing but looked a little nervous.

Giving him a moment to decide, I walked over to the fireplace and pulled out a flaming branch. Returning to the guard, “I’m going to burn those clothes. You decide if you want to be in them or not.” I heard a chuckle behind me.

“Isiah, I promised the owner of the building there would be no killing on his premises. Please abide.”

I nodded. “This pathetic anal dropping will live through the burns.” after a moment, I added. “Probably,” That was all it took. The guard scrambled to remove his clothes while I stood directly in front of him. In a few seconds, he stood in his underwear, holding out the pile of clothes to me.

“I don’t want to touch them, throw them in the fireplace and go back to what you were doing.” When he did, I followed him and returned my flaming branch.

“I like your style,” he said approvingly.

I said nothing. Probably because, for the first time in my life, I was aware of my precarious situation. I knew how powerful my father was, and Lucifer was near his equal. When he realized I wasn’t going to initiate a conversation, he began.

“You’re wondering why I brought you. I was hoping we could find some common ground.”

“Common ground? I asked.

“I know a little about what you experienced. I was hoping you would have an open mind and consider coming to our side. You’re my only legitimate nephew. The idea appeals to me more than you know.”

Of all the things to hear tonight, this was the very last thing I expected. I was shocked, and I’m not sure what I was revealing. I tried to think of something. Then I realized I felt different. My connection with the others was seriously dampened, almost to the point of being nonexistent.

“Why does this place feel so odd?”

My “Uncle” Lucifer looked at me oddly. Scratch that. I’m not going to start thinking of him as “Uncle” Lucifer. He answered my question,

“This place is a spiritual faraday cage. You can still use your power but can’t draw from the outside, nor can anyone scry what’s going on inside. Stop! Please don’t give me that look, and it isn’t a trap. Harming you is far from my mind.”

I let it go but thought about his earlier comment. “You want me to come to your side as Cain did?” I asked acidly.

Lucifer visibly flinched, then took a deep breath and looked out the window. “What happened to Cain was over the top. The Father should never have cursed him from the start.” He said, “The Father” with air quotes. He created man so incredibly flawed with free will, then pretend to be surprised they go and exercise that free will. I disagreed with his decision to place humans on such a high pedestal. Thinking for myself is what got me cast out. Why do you think the Host never changes? They saw what happened to me, and they didn’t want the same to happen to them. He all but demanded I kneel at your feet. I refused. Now, I have to deal with fire and brimstone crap all the time. As if that’s all hell is. You can hardly expect Cain not to be fucked up in the head. Look at his father, Adam. He was a spoiled brat. He had two perfect women created for him, and he fucked it up twice.”

“Twice?” That was news.

Lucifer waved away the comment dismissively. It was interesting to hear his angle in all of it. Unfortunately, I wasn’t buying him playing the victim. Not entirely.

He turned to look at me. “Let me ask you something. What would you do if someone demanded you kneel in front of them?” If you don’t, you will be cast out and expelled.”

The question turned out to be rhetorical because he pointed at me. “See? I know that look. You would ask yourself, to whom you are bowing? That’s beside the point. What’s done is done. You and I don’t need to be enemies. Not everyone under me sees it that way, but I’ll leave you to sort that out independently. Right now, I want to indulge in spoiling my only nephew.”

The guard opened the door, and a line of four women walked in. They made their way to me. Two looked the same, and I could see right away they were identical Asian twins, Cambodian if I guess right. They were petite and short, perhaps five feet tall, with long black hair extending to the bottom of their back. They each wore an oriental robe, one red the other black. Their features were small, and they appeared to be young teenagers. A quick look revealed they were all four were succubus. Without a word, they tucked themselves under each of my arms and leaned their head against me.

The women before me must have all been taken from my past. I’ve gone on about how much control I have over my sexual urges. It wasn’t always the case. There were quite a few times over the years where I failed miserably, and my physical limitation is what saved me. Each of the succubi bore strong resemblances to women in my past. In each case, the women were intelligent enough to avoid my natural backlash. For instance, they wouldn’t overtly come on to me. They would work themselves circumspectly and entered my circle slowly. When they did, they composed themselves in a way I felt attractive.