16

Darlene loads Lorraine into the back of an Uber, gives her a kiss on her drunken forehead, slams the door and walks off without looking back, lights a cigarette as she strolls down a street that just happens to be laid in front of her. She passes a matching jean jacket couple making out on a park bench, a sun-drenched old man in a speedo whistling the star-spangled banner, a juggler taking a break sitting on his wood box reading his horoscope. She stops at an intersection, cigarette dangling, looks both ways.

“Where the hell’d you park Darlene?”

She wobbles into a convenience store, trips and catches herself against a Bubbilicious display, makes her way to the glass coolers in back, cracks a 32 oz High Life then heads back to the counter.

“You can’t smoke in here,” the man says pushing some buttons on his register.

She narrows her eyes, licks a five-dollar bill and sticks it to his forehead.

Outside the screaming profanities are muffled by the door slamming shut behind her. She smashes her cigarette with her ruby slipper, looks up at a clear blue sky to a single cloud hanging. Pulls out another Virginia Slim and watches it move closer, not floating, scooting, strangely, with a whirring mechanical sound. Its shadow darkens a park bench, a pack of cargo-shorted college students well-sunglassed in ball caps moving in packs, till it’s directly over her. A small tornado descends, furiously whirling, blowing the shorts off a woman behind her, whipping them down the street as Darlene shields her eyes with the crook of her arm, then…silence. She lights her half-torn cigarette, takes a long drag then blows it over the man standing before her.

A ring of fire dances around
his gold crowned head
black caterpillar mustache
wriggles on his face
elegant flowing robes of a thousand colored silks
squeezed by a goblin-headed belt buckle
A strange guitar
bulbous and made of wood
lets outs a curious plunking noise
as Jikoku-ten, The Heavenly King of the East
opens his mouth to speak

Before he has a chance, Darlene thrusts her beer in his chest, grabs the guitar, holds it like a baseball bat and takes a swing at a nearby newspaper stand, shatters it into a thousand pieces, tosses him the neck then takes her beer.

“Think you can get a decent burrito in this town?” The Heavenly King looks down at his broken guitar as Darlene turns to leave. “What are you waiting for a god damn invitation? C’mon.” He hurries after her making sure not to trip on his robe. Catches up as she rounds the corner. “Sorry ‘bout the gee-tar. Was that your ‘special weapon,’” she uses sarcastic finger quotes. “Sure got a lame one. Coulda had a flaming mace or a bow n’ arrow that turns people into snakes.” She stops in front of Lupita’s Mexican Food. “This looks good.” Slaps him on the back. “You’re buying!”

The Heavenly King sits across from her at a two-top crammed in the middle of the room. It’s crowded. Lunch rush. A woman in a red polo rushes around with a big tray, weaving in and out of customers. Jikoku-ten adjusts the lacey paper placemat so it’s centered with the table then looks at Darlene.

Red lips chewing on her fingernail 
black sunglasses hiding mascaraed eyes
she disappears behind the plastic picture menu
the colored boas behind her
hang nail to nail
draped across the popcorned ceiling 
as she holds up two fingers 
mouthing, ‘margaritas’ 
to a small Mexican woman across the room

“I’d get the fish.” Lowers her menu. “Do you even eat? What do I know? Maybe you’re some kind of specter that lives off the pain of pregnant women.” Leans in. “Or can you get down on some enchiladas?” Before he has time to answer the waitress is there with the margaritas, first wiping the table then setting down two cactus stemmed goblets. Darlene takes a long sip. “So you’re here to take me back to hell.”

The Heavenly King opens his mouth to explain but the waitress returns with chips and salsa, pulls out her pad.

“Ready?”

“You go,” she says picking her menu back up. Jikoku-ten shakes his head. ”You’re not going to have ANYTHING? You should try the chilaquiles. He’ll have the chilaquiles and I want a beef chimichanga and some more salsa for these chips.” The waitress takes the menus. “You were saying?” 

The Heavenly King runs his hand across his face feeling his big black mustache, traces it down with his fingers. 

“My name is Jikoku-ten. I use my pipa,” he says lifting the broken neck of his guitar, “to bring people to the eternal truths of Buddhism NOT as a weapon.”

“Oh,” Darlene says popping a chip in her mouth. “Sorry.”

“I’m not here to bring you back to ‘hell’,” he uses her sarcastic air quotes. “I was ordered by The Jade Emperor to find Monkey and his companions and bring them to the royal court in heaven, so they may be properly judged.”

“Hmph,” Darlene looks around the room. “Surprised that little hairy ape hasn’t shown up yet.”

Jikoku-ten’s face turns white. 

“He’s…here?”

She watches the panic melt over him.

“That face,” she slurps her Margarita, “Jade Emperor seems like a dick if you ask me. What’s he look like anyway? Imagine some kinda floating green head or is he like the rest of you, all robes and hats and weird belt buckles like someone threw a bunch of fancy shit in the wash and it came out stuck together?” Another sip and the drink is gone. “How long it take to get ready in the morning? No wonder the world’s a mess. God’s spend all their time accessorizing.” Looks him up and down. “Lemme try that hat on.”

“You want my crown?” He touches it lightly. “But…I’m the Heavenly King of the East.”

“What are you saying? You take the crown off and you’re not you anymore? Give it here.” She snatches it off his head, holds it in both hands turning so she can see all the details in the filigree. “I crown myself in the name of Spain!” The crown rests slightly tilted on her bouffant blond hair as she drains the last drops from her cactus goblet then starts crunching the ice. “You were saying?”

The Heavenly King looks at the Margarita.

”Oh, what the hell.” Takes a long drink, wipes the salt off his mustache, relaxes a bit. “He’s not a floating head. He’s a man, or, was a man. A great one…back then. He was a soldier. It’s a long story. I’m sure you’re not interested.”

“I’m not.” Jikoku-ten looks slightly dejected. Darlene throws her hands in the air. “Oh for heaven’s sake. Tell me ‘bout him. All you heavenly beings are so god-damned sensitive.”

He takes a drink, licks a bit of the salt off the rim of the glass.

“He was a great man,” reaches for some chips. “I don’t know if you know Mara?”

“The little girl?”

“That’s his daughter. He tried to conquer Heaven. A long time ago. Flew up with his demon army to the great gates and defeated the gods, the immortals, everyone. They all ran. The Jade Emperor was a soldier then. He gathered his forces, led the last charge, beat back Mara, sent him to Hell and was crowned The Jade Emperor.”

Darlene mulls this over.

“Where does one get a demon army?”

“You’re making fun of me aren’t you?”

“A lady’s got to keep her options open. Can’t be a waitress forever you know.”

“Forget it.”

“I’m listening. I’m listening. It’s just that…are you telling me your God ain’t nothing but a title?”

“That’s right. There was a Jade Emperor before him and there will be a Jade Emperor when he dies. He’s the ruler the heaven. He didn’t make this,” he says waving his hand around.

“Oh, so he’s not responsible for Lupita’s?”

“Not exactly.”

“But he gets to judge her anyway?”

“Once a year.”

“And how does that work?”

“What do you mean?”

“You get on the naughty list and then what? He sends down some goons to break your leg or does he just blink his eyes like I Dream of Genie and suddenly you have hepatitis?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Hmmph.” The waitress comes back with the food, clears the table of the empty drinks. “Two more please.” Takes a bite of her chimichanga. “I’ve heard stories,” takes a scoop of salsa and drops it on her fried cheese. “I dated a man that told me plenty ‘bout him. Not as you described. But I’ve heard stories.” Dips a chip in her beans.

“What’ve you heard?”

“I’ve heard he’s got a temper. I’ve heard he’s a sadistic son of a bitch. Heard he get ‘The Melon’.”

“The what?”

She points her fork to her head.

“The Melon. You know what I’m talkin’ bout.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“All pompous and full of himself. Makes your head swell up. What’s the word?” She points her fork at him. “Hubris.” Takes another bite of her chimichanga. “There’s a four-dollar word to go with your twelve dollar chilaquiles. Hard not to get The Melon when you’re surrounded by little suck-ups trying to scrap their way closer to that ring of power those elves warned us ‘bout.” She slams her empty Margarita on the table. “YOU SHALL NOT PASS!” People in the restaurant turn to stare. She points her fork back at him. “You got The Melon too. Laying out your title. I’m the blah blah blah of the South.”

“East.”

“Whatever. The man with three names.”

“Sounds like someone’s jealous.”

The waitress comes back with two more drinks.

“Jealous?”

“I’m a king,” he says pointing to his crownless head.

“What are you the king of exactly?”

“The East.”

“The general direction of East?”

“That’s right.”

“But everything’s east of something.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Mmm hmm.” She stretches. “Hate to pause this conversation when we’re so close to breaking through the mysteries of life but I got to use the lady’s room.” Leans in closer. “I have to pee.” Leans back. “So as we’re clear.” Puts her hands up. “I ain’t gonna run off or nuthin’. Stay here and think those heavenly thoughts of yours.” Scoots her chair out. “BRB.”

Darlene walks to the back, finds the waitress who’s hanging out by the kitchen texting her boyfriend.

“Hey honey. That man sitting there’s turning 40 so if you could bring out some fried ice cream or a cupcake with a candle or a sparkler or whatever that’d be great. Could you do that for me?” She stuffs a twenty in her hand then hightails it to the bathroom and locks the door.

She climbs on top of the toilet and examines the small window that looks out to the parking lot, tries to open it but it’s painted shut. She takes the crown and smacks it against the glass. The second blow cracks it and the third smashes it completely. She clears the jagged bits out then pulls herself through, her head poking out into the parking lot as she squirms halfway before she can’t squirm anymore.

“Fuck.” She wiggles around but can’t get her belly through. Thrashes a few more times before giving up and laying her head on her arms. A family of four leaving the restaurant walks to their car. “Pssst. Could you help a lady out?”

The father cranes his neck, see’s Darlene in the window, opens the door for his wife and kids before walking over. 

“If you could just,” Darlene lifts her hand up, “give me a pull.”

The man starts tugging as his wife rolls down the window a bit.

“Brett, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” he says distractedly. “This woman is stuck.”

“How did she get in the window?”

“I don’t know Barbara! I haven’t asked her yet.”

The window rolls all the way down.

“Well, you should ask her. I don’t know why you think it’s ok to start pulling strange women out of windows.”

He turns toward her.

“Because that’s the kind of man I am Barbara. I pull women out of windows without asking questions. Is that ok with you?”

Barbara is quiet, then, “I can’t believe you’re doing this in front of the children.”

The Heavenly King of the East walks up behind him, a muffin with a sparkler in one hand, his second margarita in the other. Brett bends over to pull her again but she waves him away.

“Forget it. Go on. Get.”

Brett looks confused, turns to see Jikoku-ten, makes some quick calculations then walks to his car and gets in. Darlene lifts her head, smiles, points to his margarita. He crouches down, hands it to her as she takes a long drink then sets it on the hot asphalt.

“All right,” she says wiping her mouth. “Take me to heaven.”

In no time they are standing at the Eastern Gates, the gold bars rising out of the clouds ending in a flourish of fancy spikes. Jikoku-ten adjusts his slightly bent crown then steadies himself by grabbing onto her arm.

“Shit,” he says balancing himself. “I might be a little drunk.”

“You get a lot of people trying to break into heaven?” she asks swinging the gate open and closed. “I’ve broken into apartment complexes that have better security than this.”

“Not usually.” She pulls a cigarette from her purse. “Hey, you can’t smoke here.”

“You can’t smoke in heaven?”

“No. Why would you…”

“You can’t smoke in hell. You can’t smoke in heaven. Where’s a lady supposed to smoke?” She lights it. “Doesn’t everybody live in a big ol’ mansion where you get to fuck off and party? I mean, what’s the point of heaven if you can’t have fun?” Darlene pulls a Virginia Slim from her pack, pops it in his mouth and lights him up, reaches in her purse, pulls out her High Life and takes a swig. “Now show me ‘round. I wanna see the whole damn thing,” thrusts her elbow out for him to grab, as they walk arm and arm through the heavenly gates.

“This is the entrance,” he says waving his arm almost hitting her in the face. “There’s lots of clouds and stuff. Lots of clouds. It goes on like this for a while.”

“Interesting. Why so many clouds?”

“I don’t know. We’re high up?”

“Got it. What’s next?”

“More clouds. It’s like this for…ok, here we go. There’s the path to the Jade Emperor’s stables. He has a lot of horses. You know rich people and their horses. It’s just something that happens after you get a certain amount of money. What else can I spend my money on? Oh, I know. I’ll buy a horse.”

Jikoku-ten trips over his robe. Darlene catches him and pulls him back up.

“Woah, buddy. Easy now.”

“This is the peach garden. The path to the peach garden. That’s where the immortal peaches are kept.” He holds up a finger to her face. “But you better not eat them or ELSE.” She grabs his finger. He grabs her hand and she grabs his hand.  

“Whatcha going to do now Jiko? You gonna stop me from eating those peaches?”

“Don’t eat them! She’ll be mad at me.”

Darlene lets him go.

“I like you Jiko. You’ve finally loosened up a bit.”

“Don’t eat those peaches,” he says pushing her a bit with his hands then, “You’re pretty.”

“Ok, Casanova. Let’s focus on the tour.”

“Right.” He gives a hard nod. “There’s the royal court building,” he says pointing. “That’s where heavenly stuff happens, and that’s where Lao Tzu used to live, and there’s some other stuff over there and, that’s about it.”

“Not the greatest tour guide in the world are you? I mean, where’s the pool?”

“Pool?”

“You telling me there’s no pool in heaven where you can hang out and drink and look over the side and see everything down there?”

“There’s The Heavenly Jade Pool but no one’s allowed to go in there or else.” He turns toward her. “I like you.” He leans in for a kiss. Darlene palms his face. Pushes him to the ground.

“Let’s just get to know each other a bit before you do something like that.” She puts her hands on her hips and looks around. “Are you meaning to tell me this is it?” 

Jikoku-ten picks himself off the ground.

“Pretty much.”

“And how long has this been here?”

“Millions of years I think.”

“Millions of years. You know how many red necks’ve built above-ground pools in their backyards in, I don’t know, a summer, and you guys, with your infinite heavenly wisdom haven’t found the time to build one lousy swimming pool?”

“You really like pools,” the Heavenly King of the East says. “Let’s build a pool.”

“You wanna build a pool with me?”

“Sure. Let’s do it right now.”

Darlene holds his face in her hands and smiles.

“You’re not so bad Jiko even if you did kidnap me and take me to heaven.”

“I’m a king,” he says reaching up to touch his crown feeling the dent. “But you’re a tricky one,” he says pointing.

“But you caught me didn’t you?”

“I did. I caught you,” he says trying to pinch her cheeks.

Darlene smacks him and he falls over.

“I’m drunk.”

“I know you are. C’mon Jiko. Build me that pool.”

He pulls himself up.

“I can do this,” then looking at Darlene. “I’m magic.”

“Let’s see some of that magic, baby.”

“You wanna see?” He pulls up his sleeves and wiggles his fingers. “I’m gonna make a pool right where you’re standing.”

A pool materializes as Darlene falls in laughing, holds her arm up to keep her cigarette from getting wet. Jikoku-ten walks quickly over.

“No running!” Darlene yells. “This is a pool!”

“I’m not running. I’m walking quickly.”

“Walk slower,” she says talking a drag. He walks at a normal pace. “Slower!” Darlene yells. He moves in slow motion. Each step takes a few seconds. “Slower!” 

“I can’t move slower,” he says. “I can’t move any slower than this.”

“You’re magic. You can do whatever you want.”

“That’s right,” he wiggles his fingers, but before he can finish, he trips over the edge and falls in, stays underneath then bobs up in a big splash. “I like you,” he says dog-paddling over.

She swats him again and swims to the other side.

“How bout some music?”

A stereo appears. She hops out dripping, turns the knobs and dials till she hears, “One, Two, Three, Four”. Starts playing an invisible guitar, dancing along the edge as a man starts to sing,

“She don't wear no pants, she don't wear no tie
Always on the ball, she's always on strike
Struttin' up the aisle, big deal you get to fly
You ain't nothin' but a waitress in the sky
You ain't nothin' but a waitress in the sky”

The Heavenly King pulls himself out, undoes his goblin belt buckle, his robe, soaking, falls to the ground as he chases Darlene around the pool. He catches her and she twirls him around, grabs his hands swinging her hips trying to move him along. She spins him then drops him in the pool.

“Sanitation expert and a maintenance engineer
Garbage man, a janitor and you my dear
A real union flight attendant, my oh my
You ain't nothin' but a waitress in the sky”

The song ends and she splashes back in the pool.

“All this dancin’ made me hungry again. Got any ribs ‘round here?”

“We’re not allowed!” he says splashing.

“Not allowed! You’re the Heavenly King of the East.”

“Shhh! No meat.”

“You ever eaten meat before?” He shakes his head. “Well don’t knock it till you tried it, right?”

He wiggles his fingers and a rack of ribs appears in his hands. Darlene pulls some off and feeds it to him, takes some for herself. A group of heavenly soldiers round the corner and stop at the edge of the pool that’s materialized in the middle of the main road. The Heavenly King of the East sees them, drops the ribs in the pool, salutes.

“This is Darlene and these….are some soldiers.” He looks over to her then loudly whispers. “I don’t know their names.”

“You’re so bad,” she says splashing him.

The captain steps forward.

“The Jade Emperor is expecting you.”

“Lil old me?” Darlene says putting her hand on her chest.

The captain reaches in and grabs Jikoku-ten underneath his armpits and pulls him out. The other three try to grab Darlene but she swims to the middle of the pool.

“You’re gonna have to get wet if you wanna catch me.”

The soldiers, wade in and corner her as she splashes, picks up the wet ribs floating towards the bottom of the pool and tries to rub it in their faces then eventually gives up and is carried like dead weight, soaking and screaming and cussing, as they heave her into the heavenly royal chambers, the immense golden doors slamming shut behind her.

15

The McDonald’s, Burger King and Wendy’s beacons click on as the yellow lines of the road begin to vibrate. The tired eyes of Pig and Mara, having searched the countryside for hours, fixate on the red taillights ahead. A soft blue screen in the back of a Dodge blooms into focus. A square of light turns into a band of soldiers running up a hill. A bomb explodes silently as they pass. The faces of the family, the license plate, the car melts into a ball of light then down to a speck then nothing but the yellow lines again, the monotonous rhythm of the road, soothing and irritating, front-facing, as the interior dials of the van sharpen and the world grows small and dark.

Billy squirms in his seat, hands duct-taped to the steering wheel, looks in the rearview to Pig splayed out, hooves against the window, head resting on a rolled-up pair of jeans.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he says sheepishly.

Pig sits up, squints trying to read the road signs, then looks over to Mara.

“We can let him poop his pants or we can cut him loose. I vote for number one.”

“So you vote for number two?”

He snorts.

“That’s the first joke you’ve made all trip.”

“I make jokes all the time. It’s just the first one you understood.”

“You see what I have to put up with?” Pats him on the shoulder then points to the exit. “Take this one.”

Billy lets out a sigh of relief as they pull into a gas station.

Two teenagers on the curb
stacks of bottled water
the glass doors slide
as a man in a sleeveless jacket
tosses his cellophane near the trash
whistles to a woman
who extends a middle finger
for all to see.
He lights his cigarette
the cherry burning
under the glossy sheen
of the vinyl banner
plastered to the window
of the Phillips 66

“I’m not taking him.” Mara picks at the duct tape. “And don’t eat him while you’re gone.”

Billy looks in the rearview. 

“You…eat people?”

Pig folds his arms

“Why’s everyone so down on eating people? She lops people’s heads off and you’re a serial killer. I eat a few people and it’s the end of the world.” He leans over. Looks at Billy’s hands. “I don’t have a knife.”

“I don’t have one either.”

He points to the mannequin as Mara rolls her eyes, opens her door in disgust, marches to the back, returns with her sword, slices, then sheaths her sword. Billy lets out a whimper as a severed pinky hangs off the steering wheel. 

“Nine out of ten,” Pig nods in approval, “that’s an A-minus.” Pulls him out of the car, throws him over his shoulder, walks behind the gas station, kicks open the men’s room door. A trucker is sitting on the toilet looking at a Hustler, jumps halfway off his seat as they lock eyes, Pig’s monstrous form backlit under the fluorescents.

“Hey,” Pig says nonchalantly then noticing the pack of cigarettes sticking out of his shirt pocket. “You smoke?” The man, frozen at first, hands him a cigarette and lighter. Pig leans his forearm against the frame of the door. “Been on the road with the old lady for hours.” Takes a drag. “Hates it when I smoke. So, how’s your night going?”

“Pretty…good.”

“My night is,“ blood drips down the front of his shirt from Billy’s severed pinky, “so so.” Offers the cigarette to the man who shakes his head. “Hustler huh?” The trucker hands it over as he flips through the pages, pulls out the centerfold, a woman in a fireman’s hat with a hose wrapped around her leg, the nozzle resting between her breasts. “Life sure is complicated. Know what I mean…”

“Pete”

“Named after St. Peter right?”

“It was my father’s name.”

“St. Peter. Guarding the gates of heaven.” Flips the page. “I’ve been to the gates of heaven and I’ve never met anyone named Pete.” Looks up from The Hustler. “Sounds crazy, right?” Pete nods. ”You know what else sounds crazy? A demon pig that can talk.” Billy squirms and he shakes him. “Quiet Billy,” then back to Pete. “There’re four gates. Four directions. Four gates. Why would you have one gate? Pretty inconvenient if you’re on the north side and the only way to get out was through the south, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

Pig turns the page to a woman in a cowboy hat, six-shooter in each hand standing over another woman wearing a headdress, fake blood smeared over her body half-covering her tribal tattoo. A paper-mache fire is blowing beside them. A rubber snake pushes its way through the empty eye sockets of a bleached cow skull as a southwestern acrylic moon hangs above, painted on a sheet of gauzy fabric some intern pushed Christmas lights through.

“Life sure is complicated.” He hands the magazine back as he sizes him up. “Pete, you seem like a guy that’s got a lot going on. Places to be, people to meet and all that. So let’s cut to the chase. I’m going to give you two options.” He leans in so he’s lit by the overhead light. “Option one is I eat your face. I’m going to eat the rest of you, but I’ll start with your face. How do you like that option Pete?” Pete vigorously shakes his head. “I didn’t think you’d like that one. That’s why there’s number two, which is, you get up, go back to your truck, start driving and in 10 years when you’re an old man, you can sit around and tell the story of the night you met a demon pig in the men’s room of a Phillips 66 and how you let him look at your Hustler and lived to tell the tale. How does that sound?” Pete pulls up his pants and runs out of the bathroom. Pig watches him go then sets Billy down on the seat. “All right Billy Boy. Time to make a tinkle.”

Billy holds his hand and winces.

“Are you going to watch me?”

“Not really my thing but I am going to stand outside and if I hear anything funny we’re going back to option one, ok?”

He walks out, leans against the red cement cinder blocks of the building.

A dumpster with a wood fence
dozens of street lights
a small median
the wet grass glowing green
curves around to the parking lot
of a Pizza Hut
and in the window
framed under an awning
a perforated vinyl wrap
of a pizza-shaped heart
meaty chunks submerged in cheese
as a woman’s hand pulls a slice away
the cheesy strings dripping over
her red nails
the same color as the awning
and the Pontiac
double-parked in the lot.

“What’s going to happen to me?” Billy asks unzipping his pants.

Pig watches as a family is seated in a booth across the street.

“I’m going to eat you.” The family examines their placement menus as the waitress twirls her hair and rattles off the specials. “Or Mara will cut your head off.”

“Will you at least kill me before you eat me?”

Pig watches the mother look through her purse. She pulls out a piece of candy and hands it to the little boy. The girl’s already crawled under the table. She fishes her out, plops her down, dangles a toy till she distractedly takes it, throws it at her brother.

“How many people have you killed Billy?”

“….Four.”

The husband leans over, says something that makes both the kids giggle.

“Four. I bet they asked for a lot of things toward the end. Did you ever give them those things?” Silence. Pig looks down the alley. Mara’s sitting in the passenger seat staring at her phone. “I’d tell you how many people I killed but honestly I can’t remember.”

“I don’t know what you are but…can’t you at least appreciate…I mean…you murder people. Can’t you see we’re not so…”

“We’re not so different? Really? Sure, we have one thing in common. You know what else has one thing in common? Everything. Literally everything has one thing in common.” He kicks a piece of gravel and it bounces across the asphalt, rolls and stops in the gutter. “Wanna know why we’re different Billy? For one, people like me. They may not love me. They may not let me babysit their kids, but they like me. They like me because I’m disgusting. Because I have this pig head on top of these rolls of fat. It makes them accept it. The things I do. And that makes them feel good because if there’s one thing they know, it’s that they’re not me. But you…” He snorts. “They despise you. They look at you and they're outraged. Four people. That’s incompetence in my line of work.” The waitress comes back with four waters. Slides them across the table. “People hate you Billy. They hate you because you don’t make any sense. You fooled them into thinking you were one of them. They’re mad at what you’ve done, but what really gets them is you made them wrong. They thought you were one way, and it turned out you were another, and suddenly, at least for a moment, everyone’s a killer. They look at their friends, their neighbors, that quiet guy across the street and think, do I know them? Do I really know them?” He takes a drag. “That’s why you’re the monster,” exhales a cloud into the night air, “and I’m just a demon.”

The waitress takes their order, walks back to the kitchen, pushes open the swinging door. The cook is fishing a pizza out of the oven, a sleek stainless steel rectangle, red and burning as the doors swings shut.

“How…did you become…like this?”

“You know who the Jade Emperor is?” Silence. Pig shakes his head. “The ruler of heaven and nobody’s ever heard of him. To make a long story short I slept with his wife. Not the smartest thing I’ve ever done but there it is. Still not sure if I slept with her or she slept with me. Know what I mean?” Takes another drag then tosses the cigarette on the ground. It rolls next to an empty bag of Funyuns. “After he found out, he turned me into this. Sent me back to earth, and here’s where I go from hating the man to respecting his attention to detail, because that in and of itself is pretty bad, being a pig demon, but in his heavenly wisdom he made me fall in love with a woman. We got married. Lived on a farm outside the city. Had a kid even. And then he made me eat them.”

The husband puts his arm around his wife. Gives her a little squeeze.

“I was always this way,” Billy says. “I didn’t want to be like this. Things that were supposed to feel bad felt…all my wiring…everything inside was backward. I didn’t want to be this way. I didn’t. It’s not my fault, but those people. They wouldn’t leave me alone. They couldn’t just accept I was different. They had to rub my face in it. They wouldn’t…”

“Here’s the thing Billy. It’s no accident I’m waiting outside a men’s restroom for a two-bit killer to take a shit and you didn’t end up with a man-eating pig and a homicidal little girl on accident either. There’s a reason we’re here and they’re there.” A pizza is set in front of the family as the hands reach in and pull it apart. “We couldn’t cut it. Simple as that. We tried to live normal and it didn’t work, and so we took what was left.” Pig looks up at the moon, clouds hugging it on either side. “I’m not evil because I want to be. I’m evil because I’m lazy, which is a little better if you think about it one way, and a little worse if you think about another. I’m sure you had a shitty life. I had a shitty life. Maybe those people in there had a shitty life too. But I’m past being able to feel sorry, for you, for me, for anyone. It’s too much work. You had a shitty life and you’re going to have a shitty death and that’s all there is to it.”

Billy flushes, pulls up his pants and walks out.

“What was her name?”

“Who?”

“Your wife?”

Pig frowns.

“Ji.” He pauses. “I haven’t said her name in…” Stares at the pavement then turns and walks toward the van. ”C’mon I’ll use my magic powers to put your finger back on.”

“Really?” he says excitedly following behind.

“I’m just fucking with you Billy.” He pats him on the back. “I’m a demon. I just destroy stuff.”

Mara’s in the front seat eating Twizzlers as Pig slides in back and Billy turns the key, the starter cranking but not turning over. The third time it catches, the hum of the engine vibrates the front seat, as Billy, wincing in pain, reverses and smacks into the car behind them. Mara’s Twizzlers go flying. Billy is thrown into the steering wheel as Pig turns to look through the two rectangular windows to see,

a man in white silk samurai armor
bright red skin and bulging eyes
unbuckles his seatbelt and steps
onto the wet pavement
a green snake in one hand
a trident in the other
he stands with all his glory
looking down at the dent
on the driver’s side
of his Cadillac

“That’s one of the heavenly kings!” Pig whispers.

“What’s he doing driving a car?”

Mara moves further down in her seat.

“I don’t know! Do you want me to get out and ask?”

“What should we do?”

“I don’t know! What’s he doing?”

Billy checks the rearview.

“He’s looking at his car. Now he’s on his phone. He’s calling someone. Oh god. He’s walking over. What should I say?”

Pig transforms into a human as Kōmoku-ten, Heavenly King of the West, bends over, his bright red face framed in the window of the van.

“I hope you have insurance.”

“I do,” Billy says reaching across Mara into his glove box. Kōmoku-ten inspects it then hands it back.  

“The cops should be here soon,” he says, then slightly annoyed, “Did you not see me?”

“I just hurt my hand a little,” he says holding up his missing finger.

“Oh my god! How did you…”

“No, this happened before.”

“You don’t have a finger,” looks at the steering wheel covered in duct tape, a pinky hanging off, then over to Mara who’s stuffing a Twizzler in her mouth. “What’s going on here?”

“If you’ll let me explain.” Billy opens the door and steps outside. “You see, I…” He takes off running. Kōmoku-ten watches him go for a while then sails his trident through the air piercing Billy’s chest and sticking him through the side of a PT Cruiser. He turns back, eyes glowing red. “You two mind getting out of the van. Or are you going to make this difficult?”

Pig morphs back into his monstrous pig-headed self. Smiles.

“Oh, we’re going to make this difficult.”

He smashes through the side of the van ripping off the door, landing on top of Kōmoku-ten, as Mara runs to the back, throws the doors open only to be knocked over as Pig comes careening through the air as they both go sprawling across the lot.

Kōmoku-ten outstretches his fingers and his trident pulls out of Billy’s limp body and flies back to his hand.

Mara squares off as Pig scrambles to his feet.

“Can you do that?” Pig asks. She shakes her head. “Damn. Neither can I.”

She puts her hands on her hips.

“You know how women complain that dresses don’t have pockets?”

Pig looks at her in disbelief.

“You’re really going to start complaining about the patriarchy now?”

She reaches into her dress pocket, pulls out Billy’s gun, cocks it and shoots Kōmoku-ten five times in the face. The Heavenly King reels over, drops his trident as she makes a run for the van, unsheathes her sword then throws the rake over to Pig. The Heavenly King scrambles to his feet, his face badly bruised, one eye swollen. Pig raises his nine pronged rake.

“I can’t believe you shot me!” Kōmoku-ten touches his eye.

“So it’s fine to stab people with a magic trident but you can’t shoot them in the face?” Mara says cautiously moving toward him.

“It’s a heavenly trident! I’m a heavenly being!”

“I’m sure you’ll feel better once I cut your heavenly head off.”

She raises her sword.

The snake curled around his arm opens its mouth. A red jewel the size of a turnip is clutched in its fangs, glows a fiery red as a beam burns a basketball-sized hole through Billy’s van. Mara dive-rolls over to Pig who scoops her up with his rake, tosses her, sending her flying. She hacks the serpent’s neck as its head flops to the cement. The red jewel slides across the lot as The Heavenly King of the West clocks her in the head with the butt of his trident sending her sailing through the gas station window smashing into the ice cream cooler, the cartons of Blue Bunny spilling onto the floor.

Pig scraps his rake across the ground sending a shower of sparks, tries to sweep his legs, but Kōmoku-ten dodges, shoves his trident between the prongs, both weapons embedded into the asphalt. Pig lunges, belly flops on top as they roll around smacking into gas pumps, knocking them over. Some customers flee to the Pizza Hut parking lot. Others stay holding their phones as the fuel bubbles from the earth.

Mara picks herself up, grabs two bags of Feugo Taki’s, rips them open then runs outside. The Heavenly King is on top of Pig, his hands around his neck as she comes up from behind and smears the red powder all over his face. He screams, staggering back, rubbing his eyes, pushing the chili powder deeper into his skin, falls to his knees, then starts glowing, pulsing, rises, high in the air, a bright light emanating from his forehead that opens into a golden eye. A thousand concentric circles of light course over his body as his trident shoots back to his hand, the tongs glowing as he points it down to Mara and Pig below.

A red beam pierces the Heavenly King’s armor sending him crashing into the gas pump that explodes in a giant fireball. Mara turns to see one of the teenage boys holding the red crystal.

“Do you know how to drive?” she asks grabbing his arm.

A pimply face in a black Nine Inch Nails t-shirt, skinny legs in a pair of carefully ripped jeans. He flips his hair to the side and crosses his arms.

“Kind of.”

She pulls him into the Cadillac as another gas pump explodes. Pig pulls his rake out of the pavement as Mara hops in the passenger seat. He dives in the back as the rest of the pumps catch fire. They peel out as a great fireball erupts in a mushroom cloud that leaves a black smear across the sky.

“We sure are good at that,” Pig says turning back.

“At what?”

“Blowing up gas stations.” He wiggles his body against the white leather seats as they barrel down a frontage road. “What’s your name kid?”.

“Bill.”

“You can’t be Bill. The last guy was Bill.”

“But…that’s my name.”

“What’s your real name. The one you’ve always wanted to be called.”

“How bout Ricky? Like from Ricky Oh?” His phone buzzes in his pocket and he looks at his screen. “You think I’ll be back by 11:00 cause that’s my curfew.” 

Mara and Pig look at each other.

“We shouldn’t drag him into this,” she says leaning over the backseat.

Pig shrugs.

“What was that back there?” Ricky says texting, occasionally checking the road.

“That was the Heavenly King of the West and right now he’s probably picking himself out of the ashes and figuring out what happened.”

“No, I meant. What was that red jewel thing?”

“I don’t know,” Mara says. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Does it represent…love?”

“It’s just a red jewel,” Mara says flatly. “It doesn’t represent anything.”

Ricky nods taking this in.

“So…are you guys on a quest to find all the jewels? Like, is there eight scattered across the world and they’re all hidden in super-secret locations, and you need to get them by tomorrow or, like, the whole world will be destroyed?”

Pig’s eyes light up.

“Ricky, that sounds way better than what we’re doing. Why don’t we collect all the jewels Mara?”

“Stop it. This is serious. Can you be serious for one god damn second?”

“Uh, guys,” Ricky says checking the rearview.

Pig and Mara both look back as The Heavenly King of the West shoots overhead and lands in the middle of the road, trident in hand. The car slows to a crawl then stops, the headlights lighting up his red face, the silk brocaded samurai armor and the yellow ‘Click it or ticket’ sign with a picture of a seatbelt behind him.

Pig and Mara step out. Slow-walk to where he’s standing. 

“Let’s try this again,” he says. “I’m not here to kill you. I’m here to take you back to heaven, so you,” he turns to Mara, “can go back to your father,” and you,” he turns to Pig, “can go back to DOING YOUR JOB.” He puts both hands on his trident. “C’mon. You know me. I’m the Heavenly King of the West. I’m not here to kill you.”

Pig touches his lopped ear.

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Just calm down a second. This whole thing is a big misunderstanding. The Jade Emperor told me to bring you back to heaven and that’s what I’m doing. That’s it. I don’t have a problem with you guys. I’m just doing my job.”

“Are you giving me the, ‘I’m just doing my job’ speech?”

“I’m giving you the ‘listen to reason before I have to smash your face speech’.”

Pig laughs.

“I just gave that speech!”

“So, what’s it going to be? Leave the kid and…”

A red beam shoots out and zaps Kōmoku-ten in the face, who flies back across the asphalt, his eyes burnt black as he screams and writhes around. Ricky is holding the jewel, a giant hole blown through the windshield. Pig and Mara run back to the car, hop in and take off, swerving around The Heavenly King’s body.

“I can’t believe you got him again!” Pig says looking behind them. “I’ve been doing this a long time and that never happens. You get them once, but it NEVER works a second time.”

“I totally blasted that demon monster!” Ricky says.

“You totally got him,” Pig says laughing, “though…he’s not a demon.”

“No?” Ricky changes lanes.

“No. He’s more like a protector god that watches over people and helps them reach enlightenment.” 

“Oh.” Ricky mulls this over. “That sounds like a good thing.”

“It is a good thing Ricky. We’re actually the demons. But still, really glad you got him in the face.”

“Oh.” Ricky looks at Pig then over to Mara who digs in her pocket, pulls out a Twizzler, tilts it in offering, which Ricky accepts and starts chewing. “So…you’re the bad guys.”

“We’re not bad,” Mara says. “We just don’t fit in with how things work.”

“You’re rebels,” Ricky says narrowing his eyes, then more quizzically, “so… I just shot god in the face with…my love crystal?”

“Not a love crystal Ricky,” Pig says. “Not a love crystal, and he’s a god, but there are lots of them. It’s complicated. God stuff is complicated. If I explained the whole thing your head would explode and I don’t mean your view of the world would change forever.”

Ricky nods knowingly.

“He’s lying. It’s not that complicated and it won’t make your head explode.” She taps him on the shoulder. “Take this exit.” He swerves onto the off-ramp. “See that gas station up ahead, the other side of the Burger King. Yeah, that looks nice and empty.”

They pull in the lot, park, turn the headlights off, sit there quietly listening as Mara peers out the window looking up to the sky and down the street. She settles down, puts another Twizzler in her mouth and relaxes, looks through the windshield to the words ‘Burger King’ lit up and beaming, smashed in-between a cartoon bun.

Shakes her head.

“That’s the problem right there.”

“You don’t like whoppers?”

“No, not that.”

“I think there’s an Emperor’s Express?”

“No. The Heavenly Kings. The Jade Emperor.”

“Who’s The Jade Emperor?”

Mara waves him off.

“It doesn’t matter.” Turns in her seat to face Ricky. “What would you say if you were in a country ruled by kings?”

“What would I say?” Ricky scratches the few hairs on his chin.

“Monarchies are a joke. Props. Worse than that. Tabloid headlines. Celebrities. They don’t have power because the truth is we’ve moved on. We like our kings in movies or selling burgers, but put one in charge of the tiniest bit of our lives and,” she smacks her Twizzler down on her hand. “The French had it right. They knew what to do with kings. Everyone knows what to do down here, but turn our eyes to heaven and suddenly we’re all fine with a little authoritarianism.” She shakes her Twizzler. “These are patriarchal hierarchies Ricky. Why isn’t there one heavenly democracy where things are ruled by the people? Why is the afterlife always a dictatorship?”

Ricky chews on his Twizzler.

“Are you asking me or are you going to…”

“I’ll tell you why, because heaven was built a long time ago. They didn’t know what they were doing. The humans had kings so they thought, ‘Why not have kings too.’ I know it’s not supposed to work that way, but that’s how it happened. They’re making it up as they go along just like you, just like me, just like that fat idiot in the back.”

Pig rolls his eyes.

“So what’re you going to do about it? What’s your plan? You gonna run for the first female president of Heaven?”

“No,” Mara says ripping a piece of licorice with her teeth. “My plan is to sneak into heaven, find the Jade Emperor and cut off his head.”