Chapter 13

“So, you’re owned and managed by the same people or family, then?” Jenny wondered aloud as she spoke, still naked and slick, with the proprietor of the Angel’s Haven Inn.

“You could definitely say that. In all of our locations,” the man smiled genially, his grin combining with his white hair to make him resemble a grandpa type.

“You’re a chain?” David asked to clarify things.

“Yes and no,” the old man answered very cryptically, getting a confused look from Mr. Howard.

“He’s being mysterious, I see. Anyway, we’ll need a few rooms for the night, kind sir. How much is the charge?” Tom asked the desk clerk.

“Nothing. It’s free of charge tonight. Special offer. One night only. We can’t have you sticking around when you need to move forward. This is a temporary stop on your way out of Jersey, isn’t it? Besides, we don’t take blood money, which is the whole basis for the Garden State Bank, isn’t it? Don’t want you sticking around too long with those made men and their associates. Don’t want Gianni Falcone or Raymond Tancredo catching up with you, or even Steven DeLong. I know that he’s your brother, Melanie baby, but even you know that he’s crazy as a loon,” the man showed a bit of clairvoyance in his response.

“Who are you?” Amanda now confronted the man directly as she took the keys from him.

“What’s the name of this inn, Mandy? You got your answer right there. You just need to use your noodle, and I know that you got one of those, because you just figured out that Allen was lying, didn’t you? By the way, David, it’s a good thing that you stopped sleeping with Steven when you did and took up with Denise and the rest of these fine ladies. Nothing against gay sex these days. Just that Steven is batshit insane on the best of days, and his new addictions are only making him worse. It’s a crazy train, and doesn’t even have the saving grace of Ozzy’s presence. You were right to jump off now, buddy,” the man stipulated while lighting a joint.

“You say as you smoke weed, that’s funny,” Kyle blurted.

“Just because it’s called ‘the Devil’s lettuce’ doesn’t make it so. God made it, after all. The other guy, well, strictly speaking, he is retired now. If he wasn’t, he’d get plenty of sympathy from me, given his treatment at the hands of the Old Boss. Sometimes, it’s not the same as the New Boss, after all,” the grandfatherly owner mused now.

“Old Boss, New Boss? Besides being lyrics from the Who’s ‘Won’t Get Fooled Again,’ what else is the significance?” Claire inquired, having been relatively quiet for some time now.

“Old Boss, that’s Jehovah. The one you typically refer to as ‘God,’ but the New Boss is a bit different than that, trust me. I won’t say his name. He doesn’t like it when people refer to his past. Not that I care. He was chosen to run the Cosmos for a reason, and so he does. He’s a damn sight better than his illustrious predecessor, believe me,” the man continued.

“Okay, talking of Gods, knowing too much about us, charging us no rent for the night, and giving cryptic answers. Spill the beans. You’re a motherfucking angel, aren’t you?” Salome laughed now.

“Well, aside from your rather odd choice for an adjective, you’ve nailed it. Took you long enough, didn’t it? Strictly speaking, we angels don’t tend to have mamas, let alone fuck ‘em. Not most of us, anyway. There’s a handful out there that do, including at least one famous case who’s a mama herself,” the man grinned very broadly now, his wings suddenly quite visible when they weren’t before.

“The Blessed Virgin?” Colleen asked him.

“Guess again,” the man laughed some more, “my name’s Ariel, by the way. No, not like the Little Mermaid. Why they decided that was a girl’s name, I don’t know, but I have never heard the end of it after they did so.”

“So, angels can be petty and mean, too?” Tom expressed some surprise.

“Sure, why not? The Morning Star, for all of his virtues, was definitely a nasty character in some ways. So much so that when he proposed that Jehovah retire from the God business the first time, he wasn’t fully trusted as to his motives and he got expelled from Heaven for his trouble. Later on, though, Jehovah was tired enough to give it a rest, and so he has. Of course, old gods, like old soldiers, never die. They just fade away,” the angel explained, his face by now translucent as he briefly dropped his senior citizen guise.

“Lucifer?” Denise asked him.

“That’s the one. Nice guy, when he’s not a dick. He’s retired now, too. Being the Devil can be a bit exhausting, you know. He even closed up shop, retiring Hell for good. Those lucky souls are just ghosts now. A lot better than being shoved into temporary bodies to burn forever, that’s for sure. He was tired of being a smug, self-righteous prick, I guess, always wanting to punish people for their wickedness.

“Yeah, despite what you’ve heard, Satan only tempted people as a test. If they passed, he never wanted to burn them. If they failed, well, that’s another matter entirely, isn’t it? You can take the cherub out of Heaven, but you can’t take the Heavenly sanctimony out of the cherub, can you?” Ariel clarified something that had puzzled David and the others for years.

“So, that’s very recent. Hell existed until not that long ago,” David specified.

“Precisely. But honestly, one only went to Hell if Lucifer won the case. It wasn’t as common as you think, so you’d have to be reasonably bad. Most people were let into Heaven or allowed to stay on Earth as ghosts. If they couldn’t collect your soul, that was a way out of Hell. That’s another reason for so many ghosts out there. Lots of souls terrified of Hell. Some of them with good cause to be, but some with only an unreasonable fear of it, a good case of panic that they weren’t righteous enough for Heaven,” Ariel answered, surprising everyone with that detail.

“Anyone ever get dragged there as ghosts?” Salome raised the obvious next question.

“Sure, but it wasn’t as easy as it sounds. They had to be found, trapped, captured, that kind of thing. More than a few souls evaded it entirely,” Ariel resumed, “so, you ready to drop off your bags and then go eat? I highly recommend it. You’re all clearly starving. Put your luggage away and then grab a bite. It’s all gratis, I promise you. Some other lucky souls are already being fed without any charge. They’ll look in vain for the place again, but at least they got one free meal, despite that harsh mortal saying of yours.”

“This reminds me of that dumbass Jesus Freak film ‘The Encounter,’ you know. I’m presuming that the diner won’t be manned by Jesus, or Bruce Marchiano, for that matter. Dude looked a bit more like the historical Jesus as I imagined him, but hopefully, the real Nazarene wasn’t that fucking twisted,” David observed.

“Yeah, no, it’s not Jesus or Bruce. The historical Jesus was an adopted son of Jehovah, nothing more than that, and he never succeeded to the throne. He was considered for it, but took himself out of consideration. Something about him just wanted to keep surprising the newly dead when he met them and proved not to be God. He liked the shocked looks on their faces far too much to give that up, even for absolute Cosmic power. It takes all kinds, I suppose,” Ariel told them as they left for their rooms.

“Okay, there’s ten of us, and I want to make sure that we properly mix it up. Therefore, tonight, it’s me, Melanie, and Denise to one room, Tom, Kyle, and Amanda to another, Jenny, Claire, Salome, and Colleen to the third. I want to make damn sure that I knock Melanie up, you see. We’ll switch things around plenty, but that’s the line-up for the night, guys,” David announced, making sure that Tom had his share of the fun, too.

They unloaded their luggage in each room in a hurry, and then David led them to the Angel’s Haven Diner, whereupon they discovered that it was more packed than deserted. Word of mouth about the free food must have spread quickly, even if the Internet was spotty at best these days (not to mention heavily censored by the state). Naturally, the sight of ten nudists showing up for supper drew more than the typical attention, to put it mildly.

“Hey, what are they doing here, like that? You can’t go around butt-naked like that, not in this state. We got laws, man! This is Jersey, not France!” one of the patrons complained, just seconds before the restaurateur shot him a warning look.

“Hey, why you glaring at me? I’m just enforcing the law, you know,” the patron insisted.

He grimaced and started to dial on his cell phone, only to be struck dead seconds later from a lightning bolt shot out of the owner’s hands. The crowd hushed and went back to their meals, not wishing to upset a short order cook with supernatural powers. The chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes, gravy, coleslaw, and corn on the cob were definitely worth dying for, but they’d rather live to eat more of it.

“Anyway, sorry about the interruption. As Ariel probably told you, the meal’s free, so that draws a large cross-section of folks, but it is actually here for you ten. The others happened to benefit from it, including that fool until he fucked up royally by mouthing off to an angel and threatening you guys. Trust me, I take pride in my chicken-fried steak. When I was human, I did a damn good job as a short-order cook, which is why I’m here in this capacity,” the black man who ran the diner explained to the Howard tribe.