Covenant: Go to Hell
A bus station/Northern Arizona:
They sit together, huddled closer than most men would feel comfortable with. They are huddled under the small umbrella that shades the simple metal table not for the cause of affection, nor are they whispering governmental secrets.
They are huddled under the table umbrella in the nearly fruitless attempt to keep dry in the down pouring rain, minutes creep by while they change places one drying off in the area between the umbrella and the wall, the other taking the brunt of the rain. They both look hard worn from travel, both the trek they are on now and the long trek of life show in their road faded clothes and the pungent smells of their unwashed bodies.
The older black man with the preachers collar looks up to the young man of undetermined heritage with striking blue eyes, he engages the "younger" man in silence before he speaks.
"With all that money of your Tomas, you mind telling me why we're sitting here getting wet waiting for a slow bus to nowhere"?
Those coldly radiant blue eyes meet the muddled brown ones and the "younger" man responds.
"Discretion is not only sometimes the better part of valor Jed, it's also the life's blood of staying free when you are wanted by the authorities, I'm afraid my money is no longer welcome here, nor am I or so I've been told".
"If I'm to be in this country its only as a meek traveler with what I can manage on hand and in cash, so we travel much slower and far more cheaply than I would like, its the price I pay for being who and what I am now that what I am has been left open to public scrutiny".
The old preacher sizes up those words and takes his time picking his words.
"Seems to me letting the whole world know you can't be killed can get some people a bit confused".
"Jed, I've always liked you because you've never gotten concerned about labels or reasons for things, you've always seemed willing to accept things, even when they aren't acceptable at all". "I suppose I owe you some explanations now that we have some spare time".
The old preacher looks away and makes a stifled sound its only when he turns his head and faces his old friend that the look of genuine dismay can be seen.
"Tomas, I may be old, well certainly not as old as you are, but in either case I'm no moron, I could put it all together from what that thing inside Kathy was saying and everything else">
"So..."?
"So...you're nearly as old as Jesus Christ and you don't look no older than him when he died up on that cross and now that I know you I'm more certain than ever that he did die on that cross and to tell you the truth, it's the knowing of a thing, the real knowing of a thing that makes it so damned uneasy, no...no there has to be better words than that..."
"There are old friend; you're scared, really scared for the first time now, since you know it's all real and now you have no doubt you have to see it for what it all really is, that's ten times more frightening than any real faith man can swear to believe in or abide by".
"But how Tomas, how...you must have known so many people, loved so many women, how did you keep it together all this time"?
"You mean how did I manage to not go nuts and just start killing everything in sight"?
"Well...yeah".
"I didn't Jed, I didn't keep it together, I lost it...lost it completely, I went bat shit crazy and tore at everything the world could create, you met me long after reaching the other side of all of those most human things, the emotions and needs that make us what we all really are".
"So you found an even peace with it all"?
"No Jed, I found nothingness". "You say you're scared, because now you KNOW its all real, heaven and hell the angels and the demons". "Imagine then not only knowing for sure that there is a heaven and hell but how you get to either place, not in a real sense but unlike most people lets say you had a genuine knowledge of what was really right and wrong, what the magical lists where that gave you the do's and don'ts of the eternal"?
"I suppose I'd follow those rules if I knew them of course".
"Of course you would, now imagine you followed them both ways and no matter what you did neither side would allow you entrance, imagine the infinite for just a second if you can".
"None of them want you"?
"No one". "Once more in the long endless eons I searched for ways to gain favor from anyone I found out there are things out there far more powerful and far more beautiful than what waits at the end of a tunnel when the ride is over".
"Like that wife of yours we met".
"Yep, beings just like her, ones that don't even play by our rules, some that don't play by any, the devil isn't the worst thing this world has to offer Jed, not by a long shot".
"So what are those rules, if you don't mind giving an old timer a head start"?
"Can't old friend, and anyway...here's our bus".
The two grab their simple bags, the old preacher carries his guitar case over head as an impromptu umbrella as the desert rain continues pouring down.
Southern California:
Just north of Indio...
They've walked for nearly a day across and over major roads, through trackless desert that has done quite well without the foot traffic of people for some years now. They cross fences and property lines and the whole time they do it in silence.
It isn't until they reach a completely unremarkable and flat patch of ground near a stunning giant of a Joshua tree on a hill that something breaks the gentle sound of the northern breeze. Some baleful man is wailing about a request for skulls over a cheap set of car speakers, the two ascend the hill reaching the giant tree and see before them an old Volkswagen Golf.
The cars doors yawn open into the failing desert sun, the man who sits behind the wheel of the old car is poorly imitating the baleful mans calls with gusto and enthusiasm. The two descend the hill and are within feet of the car before the man stops his wheel pounding and frantic ritualized imitations. He lurches behind the wheel startled from the sight of the thief and the preacher.
"Should have known, knew I was waiting for something here, we still have cell phones, you could have called".
The man with the striking blue eyes opens a conversation as one would towards a subordinate seemingly incapable of understanding the requirements or duties they've been hired to perform.
"Randall...WHERE THE HELL WHERE YOU"! "You knew what was coming, YOU KNEW what was coming and you decided to engage in even more personal vendettas instead of heading my calls"! "Further more you've come here when you know for a fact you aren't invited or welcome to this spot".
The Cheshire punk yanks himself from the small vehicle, he takes tentative steps towards the radiant form of the Thief.
"Vendetta...FUCK YOU GESTAS, fuck you in that ageless ass of yours"! 'You allowed her into our little circle jerk and she dead doing what we do, what the fuck was I supposed to do...wait for you to say some words at her grave and turn the other cheek". "Wait for you to turn your back on her like you turned your back on getting back at those fuckers who hurt Para". "LIKE YOU TURNED your back on Big Boy when they locked him up"?
The man with the striking the eyes, the killer of men, the Thief lowers his head, he signs as a man does when being told he's only human by his only son, he casts down his eyes like a father whose only son has reminded him he may be good man, but he isn't the god the boy had once thought he was.
"I'm sorry Randall, I know my errors and my short comings, you know better than anyone that I wish there was someone to judge me for those errors, but there isn't". "Lilith nearly sent me into the gasping oblivion and a young woman sacrificed herself to stop that from happening". "I don't know why you heard her voice but you know you can't gain entrance to this place, it isn't for you". "What I've come to do here I must do alone, without the help I needed from you so recently".
The old preacher breaks in with what he figures is a fortunate time to enter the conversation at hand.
"You two related"?
The two men look towards him both startled as if they had genuinely not noticed him, or had forgotten he was there at all. The Thief attempts to speak but is interrupted by the man with the black eyes and the punker clothing.
"You must be the sacrificial lamb".
The thief nearly startles out of his skin interjecting.
"Randall shut up, please...not like this, just go".
Absent tears build and spill down the dusty cheeks of the Cheshire punk.
"Wait, you needed me to help you scare off a demon so it wouldn't give you a wicked splinter or two and now you'd rather have THIS help you into hell"?
"Randall, please just understand that their are things we can't say right now, things we have to do that the eater of sin cannot be a part of".
Heedless and undaunted by tact or reason in the face of blinding anger and base emotions the Sin Eater continues talking to the old preacher with out looking at his only remaining friend.
"Did this liar tell you why I can't go"? "Did he tell you now you're going to get in"? Huh...did he fucking tell you that, or did he hand you empty promises about hoe you'll march through hells gates alive and well and go get your girlfriend". "Did he tell you what you have to do to get in"?
"RANDALL, SHUT THE FUCK UP"!
Its the preacher that ends the building of voluminous voices and the resounding tensions that inevitably follow, he uses the uncanny ability of saying things that people never expect to stop the situation and shut the punk up.
"Well I didn't expect to go in alive you stupid junkie"!
A perfect pair of striking blue eyes look on in disbelief as the punk doubles over into the sand in whoops of genuine shocked laughter.
"Further more Tomas was right...I don't like you one bit".
The punk explodes into even harder and more genuine laughter as the Thief continues lookingon in stunned disbelief.
The old preacher looks over to his oldest friend, he still caries the look of astonished and fresh anger on his face as he addresses him.
"Close your damned mouth Tomas all you'll do looking like that is catch flies". "Did you honestly think I didn't figure out our little trip to the Bayou to butter me up wasn't a way of getting me ready for something ugly". "You've lived a long time...a long damned time Tomas but you're still young and naive, I see it comes with the youthful skin, a man gets skin like mine and he learns things in that skin". "Life doesn't hand you a fucking thing it isn't willing to take away and or make you pay for in full Tomas".
"Only thing that bugs me...old friend...is when you where going to tell me I had to die to go there, or where you just going to drive that spear head through my chest and push me in"?
The last sentence gets the punk whooping even louder as he briefly points to the Thief and then makes a thumbs up gesture to the old preacher.
The Thief and the preacher join together spontaneously as they tell the punk to shut up. He takes a cue and picks him self up out of the sand still chortling. He staggers a few steps and gathers himself then he continues by speaking to the preacher.
"So we have a problem old man". "See I can't kill you because you haven't gone after anyone I love and I have never heard a voice telling me its what I should be looking into". "Saint Lair the Bastard over here wont do it because you're old friends and because he's pitch hitting for the good guys these days". "So that leaves you, committing a sin to get into the fiery gates as it where".
The old preacher looks to the Thief.
"He right"? "Do I have to..."
The Thief interrupts his old friend, "No there's another way".
The Thief produces a single long shard of wood, a memento gathered from the battle with Lilith.
The Cheshire punk loses any interest in laughter, he wordlessly lunges towards the Thief who silently side steps and avoids him effortlessly.
"I wouldn't kill you Jed, I wouldn't have pushed you anywhere you didn't plan on going, I can tell you how to get her soul where it belongs, you don't need me in any real way". "I was and am willing to leave it up to you, the world still needs a man who can cast out demons, the world doesn't have a whole lot of use for a man whose only good at getting his own friends killed".
The Thief makes a few more moves to avoid the ceaseless lunges of the Sin Eater. The old preacher breaks their dance by again picking his words carefully.
"Stop all that dancing about"! "I came ready for this and I made my self ready for it". "There's no reason for martyrdom and there sure as all hell isn't any room for second guessing now". "You've done what you've done Tomas, you've made your many beds and built your many houses, now just like Jesus you have to live in them, I wont let you make the choice the world can't afford for you to make just to live another few years".
The punk chimes in. "Yeah tell him the truth man, he can't get the easy way out, he can't put out the fire he started and leave me to pick up the pieces"!
Poppa Evars gets started while he's found the pulpit.
"And you...what the hell are you anyway, you say you do gods work, so start fucking acting like you're here to do it". "How long can a man act like a boy not getting his way, hell son...I've only known you for a few minutes and I already know more about you than you do".
"Now knock off all this "they made me do it" bullshit and own up to who and what you are". "Whatever it is you are that is, just head out...SCAT...go do what ever it is you do I sure as shit wont have you around while I'm doing what I need to do now"!
Poppa Evars looks to his old friend with the splinter of wood in his hand.
"Tomas I don't suppose that chunk of wood will do it for me, you have something for me"?
The Thief stops threatening himself with the wooden shard.
"Randall...you do need to go, you never should have come here". "Para is placing his soul in danger and he may have already gone too far to be saved, you need to help him like you have before, or bring him to justice if he's gone to far". "I know that's hard to ask but its your calling, now go and do that, he's lingering in New Jersey and that agency fellow we met who calls him self "The Roman" is on his trail with the mind and means to end him entirely at this point".
The Sin Eater bumbles along.
"What, someone's gonna kill Para, fuck that..."
The Thief stops him mid rant.
"Stop...stop and THINK". "Listen to the many voices, you'll hear two that have been lost to his deeds so far, track them, do your job and place your feelings where they belong Randall, where I should have placed mine". "Go make things right again...its your place".
Liked a cowed child the punk looks to the Thief, he takes his time responding as well.
"I don't think I can hurt him man, not now, not after everything".
"Then find a force that can Randall, just do what you need to do".
The old preacher breaks into the conversation in his usual way.
"Hate to break in here but I'm waiting to die and no one is offering me any options here".
The other two look at him, both examine him wordlessly.
"Shit Tomas, you figured on killing yourself or having me kill my self and you didn't bring anything along for me to do it with"?
"Slipped my mind Jed, honestly that wood would just hurt and the spear would be an instant ticket somewhere else. I just plain lost track of it".
"Well shit Tomas I'm not going to sit and bang my head on a rock now am I".
The Cheshire grinned punk interjects an idea that until now hadn't been useful.
"I got someone, he's been following me since Pasadena". The punk whistles loudly into the now dark desert sky, he follows it with one word bellowed over the desert plain.
"BARLEV"!
The Thief speaks up. "Someone out there we don't know"?
"You could say that". "Met him a while back, convinced him to trade sides, he was going some business for Para that wasn't very good business, I convinced him to do something good with all the energy and anger he had".
"Knowing all that you still had to question the need to bring Para to justice"?
"To be fair Thief, the people this one has killed in the name of his vengeance for lady haven't exactly been living "the good life" for the most part".
"Randall...when will you learn to stop allowing your own feelings to govern your duties"?
"When hell freezes over chief...when hell freezes over".
Poppa Evars breaks in again.
"Good lord Tomas you really know my tastes in others don't you"? When the other two look at him confused he continues.
"You told me I wouldn't like him and you got that one so right its almost wrong".
The Cheshire punk starts a small cluster of laughter as a man in a lime green suit wonders closer to the Golf's lights. The punks laughter stops just long enough.
"Gentlemen, this is Barlev Orini, also known as "the green spider", granted Barlev isn't his real name either but as long as we're calling people "Randall" and "Tomas" and "Jed", we might as well all get comfortable".
The punk looks to the edge of the cars headlights and nods to the still figure holding off in the distance, "Come here Spider I need to introduce you to someone you need to kill".
When that garnishes no movement or response from the tall prone figure in the distance Poppa Evars breaks in.
"Hello Son, mind if we talk while our friends make what ever preparations they need to"? "I got a story to tell you about my time in the war and then I need you to do something for me okay"?
The preacher wonders off out of the cars headlight with the tall figure leaving the Thief and the Sin Eater looking on in silence. The punk breaks the silence...of course.
"Better do what ever needs doing, I gather the preacher wont take long to get him ready to get his needles working".
"Where the hell did you find that monster Randall"?
"He found me actually, quite by accident really, like all of life's great things as you know".
"True story old friend".
"Speaking of, all things aside, sorry you're losing your friend, he was doing good work for your side these days, I was glad to have met him".
"I'll miss him, I really will, even after all these years, missed years, years I could have helped him as well".
"Thief...you can't be everywhere all at once". "Remember when you told me that"?
"Right after Liz died, of course I do".
"Then let those words sink in, he did his own good, and he had a good run".
"You know what the best of it is Randall"?
"What's that"?
"I get him back in a strange way".
"Well I guess I'll get this old bitch started and I'll get off the mound as it where, I hear someone else needs the wood".
"God you're crass Randall". The Thief says through stifled laughter as he prepares a pagan altar at the base of the giant tree.
In the distance while a car barks to life and a man long used to rituals remembers and recites a long and archaic list of satanic rights two men sit on the sand in the dark distance.
The older man tells the far younger man a tale of misdeeds that could make the heartiest traveler in mans depths faint with exposure to evil. In the end the older man makes his own act of contrition and the younger one on a solemn note sinks three needled fingers into the older mans flesh.
He's joined after this act by the Cheshire punk who genuinely consoles him. This punk will then plead for help in the settling of old tired deeds. Deeds born in anger and hate that require undoing, acts the man helped create, and in their undoing their needs come the fair balancing of things left with out balance.
In the end the man in the lime green suit asks only one thing.
"Will I be punished for killing that old black dude"?
The Cheshire punk will only answer after they've both driven away in the other mans van.
"Of course..., but if you work hard enough and long enough doing good, and I mean real good, you'll get where you want to go, trust me, I mean surely...I'm the sort you can trust".
The other man looks on towards the roads and says nothing for the very good reason that he has nothing to say to such dubious assurances.
The Thief continues the dark acts that bring to rise the direct opening to regions better left unspoken of. At its conclusion he looks over his shoulder to see only the ghostly figure of an old friend laid bare but for the guitar case at his side and the worn copy of gods works at his hip.
"Interesting trappings you've chosen to bring old friend".
"Going there doesn't mean I can't bring what I came in with dammit".
"Well hell NO Jed, and on that note I'd hope you'd enter hell with the same zeal and zest you entered the world, oddly enough you'll find yourself rewarded for those thoughts there".
"God only wants fatted cows huh"?
"Well to be honest...something like that yes, Satan is somewhat like the Marine corp Jed, he only wants the ones who can follow orders AND still think for themselves", "You can imagine how he's winning in numbers if not powers these days".
"Imma find her Tomas, and when I do what do I do from there"?
"Jed you have to convince her to either find the light or you have to get her to accept the light, either way you go in the portal I'm going to open up and she'll come out, one way or an other, that's what we came here to do after all".
"Alright old friend, Imma head in there, just you wait here until she comes out okay"?
"Jed...you have my word, I'll sit here until stars in distant heavens burn out, its the promise I made when I told you to come with me".
"Now that I can not only guess the infinite but also see it Tomas, I bet you five four ten you don't even know what it is much less can you stake your life on the bet".
"It's those old world philosophies Jed, those home spun words that keep me going".
The two share a heart felt but solemn laugh as the old preacher enters the gates of hell with his oldest friend looking on with laughter in his eyes.
Clutch:
Burning Beard:
Every day I wake up we drink a lot of coffee and watch the CNN
Every day I wake up to a bowl of clover honey and let the locusts fly in.
Lobsterbacks attack the town again
Wrap all my things in aluminum
Beams of darkness streak across the sky
Pink rays from the ancient satellite
Every time I look out my window same three dogs looking back at me
Every time I open my windows cranes fly in to terrorize me
The power of the Holy Ghost
Shadow of the New Praetorian
Tipping Cows in fields Elysian
Saturnalia for all you have
The seven habits of the highly infected calf
Swan diving off the tongues of crippled giants
International Business Machine
Choking on bits of fallen bread crumbs
Oh, this burning beard, I have come undone
It's just as I've feared. I have, I have come undone
Bugger dumb the last of academe
Okkam's razor makes the cutting clean
Shaven like a banker, lilac vegetal
Break the glass ceiling and the golden parachute on down
The power of the Holy Ghost comes to town
Shadow of the New Praetorian
Tipping cows in fields Elysian
Saturnalia for all you have
The seven habits of the highly infected calf
They sit together, huddled closer than most men would feel comfortable with. They are huddled under the small umbrella that shades the simple metal table not for the cause of affection, nor are they whispering governmental secrets.
They are huddled under the table umbrella in the nearly fruitless attempt to keep dry in the down pouring rain, minutes creep by while they change places one drying off in the area between the umbrella and the wall, the other taking the brunt of the rain. They both look hard worn from travel, both the trek they are on now and the long trek of life show in their road faded clothes and the pungent smells of their unwashed bodies.
The older black man with the preachers collar looks up to the young man of undetermined heritage with striking blue eyes, he engages the "younger" man in silence before he speaks.
"With all that money of your Tomas, you mind telling me why we're sitting here getting wet waiting for a slow bus to nowhere"?
Those coldly radiant blue eyes meet the muddled brown ones and the "younger" man responds.
"Discretion is not only sometimes the better part of valor Jed, it's also the life's blood of staying free when you are wanted by the authorities, I'm afraid my money is no longer welcome here, nor am I or so I've been told".
"If I'm to be in this country its only as a meek traveler with what I can manage on hand and in cash, so we travel much slower and far more cheaply than I would like, its the price I pay for being who and what I am now that what I am has been left open to public scrutiny".
The old preacher sizes up those words and takes his time picking his words.
"Seems to me letting the whole world know you can't be killed can get some people a bit confused".
"Jed, I've always liked you because you've never gotten concerned about labels or reasons for things, you've always seemed willing to accept things, even when they aren't acceptable at all". "I suppose I owe you some explanations now that we have some spare time".
The old preacher looks away and makes a stifled sound its only when he turns his head and faces his old friend that the look of genuine dismay can be seen.
"Tomas, I may be old, well certainly not as old as you are, but in either case I'm no moron, I could put it all together from what that thing inside Kathy was saying and everything else">
"So..."?
"So...you're nearly as old as Jesus Christ and you don't look no older than him when he died up on that cross and now that I know you I'm more certain than ever that he did die on that cross and to tell you the truth, it's the knowing of a thing, the real knowing of a thing that makes it so damned uneasy, no...no there has to be better words than that..."
"There are old friend; you're scared, really scared for the first time now, since you know it's all real and now you have no doubt you have to see it for what it all really is, that's ten times more frightening than any real faith man can swear to believe in or abide by".
"But how Tomas, how...you must have known so many people, loved so many women, how did you keep it together all this time"?
"You mean how did I manage to not go nuts and just start killing everything in sight"?
"Well...yeah".
"I didn't Jed, I didn't keep it together, I lost it...lost it completely, I went bat shit crazy and tore at everything the world could create, you met me long after reaching the other side of all of those most human things, the emotions and needs that make us what we all really are".
"So you found an even peace with it all"?
"No Jed, I found nothingness". "You say you're scared, because now you KNOW its all real, heaven and hell the angels and the demons". "Imagine then not only knowing for sure that there is a heaven and hell but how you get to either place, not in a real sense but unlike most people lets say you had a genuine knowledge of what was really right and wrong, what the magical lists where that gave you the do's and don'ts of the eternal"?
"I suppose I'd follow those rules if I knew them of course".
"Of course you would, now imagine you followed them both ways and no matter what you did neither side would allow you entrance, imagine the infinite for just a second if you can".
"None of them want you"?
"No one". "Once more in the long endless eons I searched for ways to gain favor from anyone I found out there are things out there far more powerful and far more beautiful than what waits at the end of a tunnel when the ride is over".
"Like that wife of yours we met".
"Yep, beings just like her, ones that don't even play by our rules, some that don't play by any, the devil isn't the worst thing this world has to offer Jed, not by a long shot".
"So what are those rules, if you don't mind giving an old timer a head start"?
"Can't old friend, and anyway...here's our bus".
The two grab their simple bags, the old preacher carries his guitar case over head as an impromptu umbrella as the desert rain continues pouring down.
Southern California:
Just north of Indio...
They've walked for nearly a day across and over major roads, through trackless desert that has done quite well without the foot traffic of people for some years now. They cross fences and property lines and the whole time they do it in silence.
It isn't until they reach a completely unremarkable and flat patch of ground near a stunning giant of a Joshua tree on a hill that something breaks the gentle sound of the northern breeze. Some baleful man is wailing about a request for skulls over a cheap set of car speakers, the two ascend the hill reaching the giant tree and see before them an old Volkswagen Golf.
The cars doors yawn open into the failing desert sun, the man who sits behind the wheel of the old car is poorly imitating the baleful mans calls with gusto and enthusiasm. The two descend the hill and are within feet of the car before the man stops his wheel pounding and frantic ritualized imitations. He lurches behind the wheel startled from the sight of the thief and the preacher.
"Should have known, knew I was waiting for something here, we still have cell phones, you could have called".
The man with the striking blue eyes opens a conversation as one would towards a subordinate seemingly incapable of understanding the requirements or duties they've been hired to perform.
"Randall...WHERE THE HELL WHERE YOU"! "You knew what was coming, YOU KNEW what was coming and you decided to engage in even more personal vendettas instead of heading my calls"! "Further more you've come here when you know for a fact you aren't invited or welcome to this spot".
The Cheshire punk yanks himself from the small vehicle, he takes tentative steps towards the radiant form of the Thief.
"Vendetta...FUCK YOU GESTAS, fuck you in that ageless ass of yours"! 'You allowed her into our little circle jerk and she dead doing what we do, what the fuck was I supposed to do...wait for you to say some words at her grave and turn the other cheek". "Wait for you to turn your back on her like you turned your back on getting back at those fuckers who hurt Para". "LIKE YOU TURNED your back on Big Boy when they locked him up"?
The man with the striking the eyes, the killer of men, the Thief lowers his head, he signs as a man does when being told he's only human by his only son, he casts down his eyes like a father whose only son has reminded him he may be good man, but he isn't the god the boy had once thought he was.
"I'm sorry Randall, I know my errors and my short comings, you know better than anyone that I wish there was someone to judge me for those errors, but there isn't". "Lilith nearly sent me into the gasping oblivion and a young woman sacrificed herself to stop that from happening". "I don't know why you heard her voice but you know you can't gain entrance to this place, it isn't for you". "What I've come to do here I must do alone, without the help I needed from you so recently".
The old preacher breaks in with what he figures is a fortunate time to enter the conversation at hand.
"You two related"?
The two men look towards him both startled as if they had genuinely not noticed him, or had forgotten he was there at all. The Thief attempts to speak but is interrupted by the man with the black eyes and the punker clothing.
"You must be the sacrificial lamb".
The thief nearly startles out of his skin interjecting.
"Randall shut up, please...not like this, just go".
Absent tears build and spill down the dusty cheeks of the Cheshire punk.
"Wait, you needed me to help you scare off a demon so it wouldn't give you a wicked splinter or two and now you'd rather have THIS help you into hell"?
"Randall, please just understand that their are things we can't say right now, things we have to do that the eater of sin cannot be a part of".
Heedless and undaunted by tact or reason in the face of blinding anger and base emotions the Sin Eater continues talking to the old preacher with out looking at his only remaining friend.
"Did this liar tell you why I can't go"? "Did he tell you now you're going to get in"? Huh...did he fucking tell you that, or did he hand you empty promises about hoe you'll march through hells gates alive and well and go get your girlfriend". "Did he tell you what you have to do to get in"?
"RANDALL, SHUT THE FUCK UP"!
Its the preacher that ends the building of voluminous voices and the resounding tensions that inevitably follow, he uses the uncanny ability of saying things that people never expect to stop the situation and shut the punk up.
"Well I didn't expect to go in alive you stupid junkie"!
A perfect pair of striking blue eyes look on in disbelief as the punk doubles over into the sand in whoops of genuine shocked laughter.
"Further more Tomas was right...I don't like you one bit".
The punk explodes into even harder and more genuine laughter as the Thief continues lookingon in stunned disbelief.
The old preacher looks over to his oldest friend, he still caries the look of astonished and fresh anger on his face as he addresses him.
"Close your damned mouth Tomas all you'll do looking like that is catch flies". "Did you honestly think I didn't figure out our little trip to the Bayou to butter me up wasn't a way of getting me ready for something ugly". "You've lived a long time...a long damned time Tomas but you're still young and naive, I see it comes with the youthful skin, a man gets skin like mine and he learns things in that skin". "Life doesn't hand you a fucking thing it isn't willing to take away and or make you pay for in full Tomas".
"Only thing that bugs me...old friend...is when you where going to tell me I had to die to go there, or where you just going to drive that spear head through my chest and push me in"?
The last sentence gets the punk whooping even louder as he briefly points to the Thief and then makes a thumbs up gesture to the old preacher.
The Thief and the preacher join together spontaneously as they tell the punk to shut up. He takes a cue and picks him self up out of the sand still chortling. He staggers a few steps and gathers himself then he continues by speaking to the preacher.
"So we have a problem old man". "See I can't kill you because you haven't gone after anyone I love and I have never heard a voice telling me its what I should be looking into". "Saint Lair the Bastard over here wont do it because you're old friends and because he's pitch hitting for the good guys these days". "So that leaves you, committing a sin to get into the fiery gates as it where".
The old preacher looks to the Thief.
"He right"? "Do I have to..."
The Thief interrupts his old friend, "No there's another way".
The Thief produces a single long shard of wood, a memento gathered from the battle with Lilith.
The Cheshire punk loses any interest in laughter, he wordlessly lunges towards the Thief who silently side steps and avoids him effortlessly.
"I wouldn't kill you Jed, I wouldn't have pushed you anywhere you didn't plan on going, I can tell you how to get her soul where it belongs, you don't need me in any real way". "I was and am willing to leave it up to you, the world still needs a man who can cast out demons, the world doesn't have a whole lot of use for a man whose only good at getting his own friends killed".
The Thief makes a few more moves to avoid the ceaseless lunges of the Sin Eater. The old preacher breaks their dance by again picking his words carefully.
"Stop all that dancing about"! "I came ready for this and I made my self ready for it". "There's no reason for martyrdom and there sure as all hell isn't any room for second guessing now". "You've done what you've done Tomas, you've made your many beds and built your many houses, now just like Jesus you have to live in them, I wont let you make the choice the world can't afford for you to make just to live another few years".
The punk chimes in. "Yeah tell him the truth man, he can't get the easy way out, he can't put out the fire he started and leave me to pick up the pieces"!
Poppa Evars gets started while he's found the pulpit.
"And you...what the hell are you anyway, you say you do gods work, so start fucking acting like you're here to do it". "How long can a man act like a boy not getting his way, hell son...I've only known you for a few minutes and I already know more about you than you do".
"Now knock off all this "they made me do it" bullshit and own up to who and what you are". "Whatever it is you are that is, just head out...SCAT...go do what ever it is you do I sure as shit wont have you around while I'm doing what I need to do now"!
Poppa Evars looks to his old friend with the splinter of wood in his hand.
"Tomas I don't suppose that chunk of wood will do it for me, you have something for me"?
The Thief stops threatening himself with the wooden shard.
"Randall...you do need to go, you never should have come here". "Para is placing his soul in danger and he may have already gone too far to be saved, you need to help him like you have before, or bring him to justice if he's gone to far". "I know that's hard to ask but its your calling, now go and do that, he's lingering in New Jersey and that agency fellow we met who calls him self "The Roman" is on his trail with the mind and means to end him entirely at this point".
The Sin Eater bumbles along.
"What, someone's gonna kill Para, fuck that..."
The Thief stops him mid rant.
"Stop...stop and THINK". "Listen to the many voices, you'll hear two that have been lost to his deeds so far, track them, do your job and place your feelings where they belong Randall, where I should have placed mine". "Go make things right again...its your place".
Liked a cowed child the punk looks to the Thief, he takes his time responding as well.
"I don't think I can hurt him man, not now, not after everything".
"Then find a force that can Randall, just do what you need to do".
The old preacher breaks into the conversation in his usual way.
"Hate to break in here but I'm waiting to die and no one is offering me any options here".
The other two look at him, both examine him wordlessly.
"Shit Tomas, you figured on killing yourself or having me kill my self and you didn't bring anything along for me to do it with"?
"Slipped my mind Jed, honestly that wood would just hurt and the spear would be an instant ticket somewhere else. I just plain lost track of it".
"Well shit Tomas I'm not going to sit and bang my head on a rock now am I".
The Cheshire grinned punk interjects an idea that until now hadn't been useful.
"I got someone, he's been following me since Pasadena". The punk whistles loudly into the now dark desert sky, he follows it with one word bellowed over the desert plain.
"BARLEV"!
The Thief speaks up. "Someone out there we don't know"?
"You could say that". "Met him a while back, convinced him to trade sides, he was going some business for Para that wasn't very good business, I convinced him to do something good with all the energy and anger he had".
"Knowing all that you still had to question the need to bring Para to justice"?
"To be fair Thief, the people this one has killed in the name of his vengeance for lady haven't exactly been living "the good life" for the most part".
"Randall...when will you learn to stop allowing your own feelings to govern your duties"?
"When hell freezes over chief...when hell freezes over".
Poppa Evars breaks in again.
"Good lord Tomas you really know my tastes in others don't you"? When the other two look at him confused he continues.
"You told me I wouldn't like him and you got that one so right its almost wrong".
The Cheshire punk starts a small cluster of laughter as a man in a lime green suit wonders closer to the Golf's lights. The punks laughter stops just long enough.
"Gentlemen, this is Barlev Orini, also known as "the green spider", granted Barlev isn't his real name either but as long as we're calling people "Randall" and "Tomas" and "Jed", we might as well all get comfortable".
The punk looks to the edge of the cars headlights and nods to the still figure holding off in the distance, "Come here Spider I need to introduce you to someone you need to kill".
When that garnishes no movement or response from the tall prone figure in the distance Poppa Evars breaks in.
"Hello Son, mind if we talk while our friends make what ever preparations they need to"? "I got a story to tell you about my time in the war and then I need you to do something for me okay"?
The preacher wonders off out of the cars headlight with the tall figure leaving the Thief and the Sin Eater looking on in silence. The punk breaks the silence...of course.
"Better do what ever needs doing, I gather the preacher wont take long to get him ready to get his needles working".
"Where the hell did you find that monster Randall"?
"He found me actually, quite by accident really, like all of life's great things as you know".
"True story old friend".
"Speaking of, all things aside, sorry you're losing your friend, he was doing good work for your side these days, I was glad to have met him".
"I'll miss him, I really will, even after all these years, missed years, years I could have helped him as well".
"Thief...you can't be everywhere all at once". "Remember when you told me that"?
"Right after Liz died, of course I do".
"Then let those words sink in, he did his own good, and he had a good run".
"You know what the best of it is Randall"?
"What's that"?
"I get him back in a strange way".
"Well I guess I'll get this old bitch started and I'll get off the mound as it where, I hear someone else needs the wood".
"God you're crass Randall". The Thief says through stifled laughter as he prepares a pagan altar at the base of the giant tree.
In the distance while a car barks to life and a man long used to rituals remembers and recites a long and archaic list of satanic rights two men sit on the sand in the dark distance.
The older man tells the far younger man a tale of misdeeds that could make the heartiest traveler in mans depths faint with exposure to evil. In the end the older man makes his own act of contrition and the younger one on a solemn note sinks three needled fingers into the older mans flesh.
He's joined after this act by the Cheshire punk who genuinely consoles him. This punk will then plead for help in the settling of old tired deeds. Deeds born in anger and hate that require undoing, acts the man helped create, and in their undoing their needs come the fair balancing of things left with out balance.
In the end the man in the lime green suit asks only one thing.
"Will I be punished for killing that old black dude"?
The Cheshire punk will only answer after they've both driven away in the other mans van.
"Of course..., but if you work hard enough and long enough doing good, and I mean real good, you'll get where you want to go, trust me, I mean surely...I'm the sort you can trust".
The other man looks on towards the roads and says nothing for the very good reason that he has nothing to say to such dubious assurances.
The Thief continues the dark acts that bring to rise the direct opening to regions better left unspoken of. At its conclusion he looks over his shoulder to see only the ghostly figure of an old friend laid bare but for the guitar case at his side and the worn copy of gods works at his hip.
"Interesting trappings you've chosen to bring old friend".
"Going there doesn't mean I can't bring what I came in with dammit".
"Well hell NO Jed, and on that note I'd hope you'd enter hell with the same zeal and zest you entered the world, oddly enough you'll find yourself rewarded for those thoughts there".
"God only wants fatted cows huh"?
"Well to be honest...something like that yes, Satan is somewhat like the Marine corp Jed, he only wants the ones who can follow orders AND still think for themselves", "You can imagine how he's winning in numbers if not powers these days".
"Imma find her Tomas, and when I do what do I do from there"?
"Jed you have to convince her to either find the light or you have to get her to accept the light, either way you go in the portal I'm going to open up and she'll come out, one way or an other, that's what we came here to do after all".
"Alright old friend, Imma head in there, just you wait here until she comes out okay"?
"Jed...you have my word, I'll sit here until stars in distant heavens burn out, its the promise I made when I told you to come with me".
"Now that I can not only guess the infinite but also see it Tomas, I bet you five four ten you don't even know what it is much less can you stake your life on the bet".
"It's those old world philosophies Jed, those home spun words that keep me going".
The two share a heart felt but solemn laugh as the old preacher enters the gates of hell with his oldest friend looking on with laughter in his eyes.
Clutch:
Burning Beard:
Every day I wake up we drink a lot of coffee and watch the CNN
Every day I wake up to a bowl of clover honey and let the locusts fly in.
Lobsterbacks attack the town again
Wrap all my things in aluminum
Beams of darkness streak across the sky
Pink rays from the ancient satellite
Every time I look out my window same three dogs looking back at me
Every time I open my windows cranes fly in to terrorize me
The power of the Holy Ghost
Shadow of the New Praetorian
Tipping Cows in fields Elysian
Saturnalia for all you have
The seven habits of the highly infected calf
Swan diving off the tongues of crippled giants
International Business Machine
Choking on bits of fallen bread crumbs
Oh, this burning beard, I have come undone
It's just as I've feared. I have, I have come undone
Bugger dumb the last of academe
Okkam's razor makes the cutting clean
Shaven like a banker, lilac vegetal
Break the glass ceiling and the golden parachute on down
The power of the Holy Ghost comes to town
Shadow of the New Praetorian
Tipping cows in fields Elysian
Saturnalia for all you have
The seven habits of the highly infected calf