by Robin Ray
CHAPTER 37
“Come in.”
L’Da, sitting behind the desk in the office off to the side of the lobby in the police station, watched as Gregory entered the room, closed the door behind him, and approached the angel.
“So, you’re already thinking about joining the monastery?” L’Da asked him. “That’s surprising. Seems like you jumped over quite a few steps in your development. From what I’ve observed, first there’s denial, then bargaining, then acceptance. You’d think anger and depression would also factor in people’s behavior, and it does, to a certain extent, but once they realize that being up here trounces the alternative, they delay asceticism for years and simply enjoy their time.”
“That’s all wonderful,” the PI asserted, “but not even close to why I wanted to see you.”
“Oh?”
The detective pulled up a chair and looked directly into the angel’s searching eyes. “Were you hanging out with Ba’al’figor all day?”
“No. Why?”
“When you came to the hospital a couple of minutes ago,” Gregory queried, “how long were you with Ba’al’figor?”
The angel eyed the detective curiously. “What’s all this about Ba’al’figor? What’s going on?”
“When you went to see Brian,” Gregory asked again, “how long had Ba’al’figor been with you?”
“I don’t know,” L’Da answered. “30 minutes? We were going over the festival lineup at Shalimar Spice. Much more complicated than it seems, I can tell you that.”
“When Ba’al’figor walked past me in Brian’s room,” Gregory said, “I smelled burnt brimstone on his clothes.”
“So?” the angel asked, shrugging.
“It’s the exact same smell I noticed when he took me and Tony to visit Hell a couple of days ago,” the detective believed.
“Maybe the smell stayed in his suit,” L’Da suggested.
“He wore white last time,” Gregory stated. “Today, both of you are wearing black.”
“Yes,” the angel stated. “We didn’t think Brian was going to make it.”
“I think Ba’al’figor went back to Hell recently,” the detective said, “like, maybe an hour or two ago.”
“For what reason?”
“To hide the Anima Furabatur.”
“What?” the astonished angel shouted, pushing his own seat backwards.
“How many angels are capable of interworld travel?” the PI asked.
“Not very many,” L’Da answered. “Do you realize what you’re suggesting, Gregory? Ba’al’figor is one of the most respected angels in Heaven.”
“Amy Winehouse wasn’t scratching 27J in the dirt,” the PI said. “It was 27B. We think she was trying to write Ba’al’figor.”
“Why?” the angel asked. “What does he have to do with the 27 Club?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” the D stated. “Brian Jones could not have gotten his hands on heroin. He had help.”
L’Da stood up, walked around the front of the desk and sat casually atop it. “This accusation could wreak havoc in the overworld, do you understand that?”
“Yes, I do,” he acknowledged, “but it just doesn’t add up that Jones had the ability to use the Anima on Amy. If it was in his possession you would’ve found it already.”
KNOCK, KNOCK
“Come in,” L’Da called out.
Tony, opening the door, went over to Gregory. “You wanted to see me, boss?”
“No,” his mentor said. “Says who?”
“Well, Ba’al’figor,” the young man answered. “He came into Brian’s room and told me…”
“Shit!” Gregory yelled, shooting right out of his seat.
“Wait a minute!” L’Da shouted as the detective was poised to fly out of the office. “You can’t confront an angel like Ba’al’figor. He’s too powerful.”
“So, you arrest him,” Gregory suggested.
“I can’t,” L’Da said. “He’ll put up his guard the second he sees me. If I go as you he won’t be that careful.”
“What do you mean?” the detective asked.
SWOOSH!
“I’ll be damned,” the shocked lawman cursed, staring at an exact replica of himself where the angel once stood.
“You remain here,” L’Da, instantly reconfigured as Gregory’s exact match, instructed him. He turned to the utterly perplexed Tony. “You come with me. It’ll look less suspicious.”
Nearly one minute later, quickly racing through the hospital’s halls, L’Da and Tony rushed into Brian’s room but were instantly kept at bay by a force field created by one wave of Ba’al’figor’s right hand who, at the moment, was in the midst of extracting the non-conscious musician’s soul with the Anima. L’Da, placing both palms on the field while the other angel was unaware, penetrated through it and set upon Ba’al’figor. Tony, captured in the force field, could do nothing but watch as the two angels fought.
First, grabbing each other by the shoulders, they swung each other around forcefully, crashing into the few pieces of furniture in Brian’s hospital suite. Ba’al’figor gained the upper hand when he successfully threw L’Da against a wall. As Ba’al’figor was reaching down to pick up the Anima he’d been forced to drop, L’Da set upon him again, kicking the tool out of his reach as they sparred once again. Blows were traded back and forth like the Thriller in Manila. Kicks also flew from each other like it was Bruce Lee vs Jet Li. One of L’Da’s dropkicks was so powerful that it caused Ba’al’figor to fly right through the concrete wall and out onto the lawn.
“Why are you doing this?” L’Da yelled, standing in the gaping hole of the hospital wall.
“So, it’s you, L’Da,” Ba’al’figor, sitting awkwardly on the grassy knoll finally realized. “Haven’t you ever wanted to feel humans feel, what makes them so unlike each other?”
“This is what all this is about?” L’Da bleated, his voice bubbling with disappointment as the sky began to darken.
“How can I understand what makes a man a man without being in his shoes?” Ba’al’figor screamed. “They built us to oversee people we can’t possibly relate to, whose steps we could never walk in. We are managing nothing!”
“That’s why you killed Amy Winehouse?”
“That was not my intention,” Ba’al’figor revealed, “but she saw me and Brian with the foil behind the shed at the 27 Club and I panicked. She had to be silenced.”
“All it did was make you a soul-less murderer!” L’Da shouted, diving towards the downed angel as rain started pouring down.
Swiftly, Ba’al’figor rolled out of the way and, kicking L’Da with such force, caused his nemesis to fly a few feet away. Then, getting to his feet, Ba’al’figor attacked his former friend again. Once more, they traded blows so powerful that the ground beneath their feet developed cracks. Their bodies became so hot that every step they landed created a small pit of fire. Just then, the rain turned into a snowstorm. Now, every time one angel flung the other, for instance, against a tree, the snow-covered foliage burst into flames. Ba’al’figor, kicked by L’Da with such tremendous force that he flew nearly 20 feet away, slowly rose to his feel and adopted a wide-legged stance. Lowering his head, his eyes started glowing bright red. The falling snow was then immediately replaced by a swirling sandstorm, causing the gathered spectators to run for cover behind closed doors. L’Da, quickly looking around, saw an emergency firehose glass container attached to the outside wall of the hospital, flew towards it, smashed the glass, turned the spigot, grabbed the hose and let loose a mighty stream of water at the exact same time Ba’al’figor’s hands glowed red enough to emit rivers of fire from his fingertips.
As the spectators watched the battle of good and evil from the safety of their shelters, L’Da’s powerful stream of water collided with Ba’al’figor’s inferno. Both angels, pushing against each other, their teeth gritting in anguish, were trying their best to make the other acquiesce to their own individual force. Ba’al’figor,
perhaps more determined than his friend, started gaining the upper hand as it seemed his burst of fire was beginning to dominate L’Da’s water. Just then, a second stream of water was opened up on Ba’al’figor. The sandstorm changed into a monstrous tornado, causing the sky to darken with tremendous ferocity. Looking to his left, Ba’al’figor noticed the real Gregory unloading another stream of water on him from a wide-mouthed emergency hose attached to a different part of the hospital. Redirecting the stream of fire from his left hand, Ba’al’figor was now focused on fighting two assailants at once. The veins on his neck and face protruded even more as he sought to increase the intensity of fire from his fists. Then –
FWOOSH!
Overcame by both tremendous water forces, the conflagration in Ba’al’figor’s hands died as the combined streams knocked him backwards and down to the ground. L’Da, quickly turning off his hose, ran over to the stunned, soaking angel, turned him around, whipped out virtual electrical handcuffs from a clip on his waist, and strapped them on the loser. L’Da, then transforming back into L’Da, helped his fellow angel to his feet.
“There were better ways of achieving what you wanted to do,” L’Da scolded him. Tony, automatically released from Ba’al’figor’s force field, came running over with the Anima. Gregory, turning off his hose, also approached the angels.
“What’s going to happen now?” the detective asked L’Da as the tornado died and the sun began to shine again.
“He’ll have to be tried,” the angel answered, taking the Anima from Tony.
“What about Amy and Brian?” the young D asked.
“I’ll be back in a few seconds,” L’Da said, suddenly disappearing with Ba’al’figor.
Mud, mud everywhere.
The two angels reappeared in the 4th Level of Hell – Ba’al’figor looking the worse for wear, L’Da still determined to complete his task.
“K’Hassat!” the victorious angel shouted, his stentorian voice echoing through the dark, mud-cased environs. “Show thyself!”
STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!
The captured Ba’al’figor swallowed deeply; the heavy, prodding moist footsteps shooting fear through his celestial black heart. Falling to his knees, he dared not look up as the mighty K’Hassat finally emerged from the darkness.
“What treachery is this?” the imprisoned demon growled.
“Did you give the Anima to Ba’al’figor?” L’Da asked him.
“He promised I would be returned to Level I,” K’Hassat stated angrily. “He promised!”
“He lied,” L’Da told the giant demon. “He was using you for his own gains.”
“Thousands of years in this infirmity!” K’Hassat screamed. “What angel lies?” he turned to the kneeling, despondent Ba’al’figor. “You are no angel!”
“My crime,” Ba’al’figor yelled defensively, “was I sought to feel what all men feel! I want to know how emotions change you, what jealousy, anger and deception means; what life is.”
“Just feelings,” L’Da stated. “Never the domain of celestial beings. And for this you’ve weakened yourself and lost the power of interworld transport.”
“Why?” the dejected angel asked. “Why can’t I know what it is to be human?”
K’Hassat stepped towards Ba’al’figor, crouched down to his level, placed his giant hand beneath his chin, elevated his head to look him in the eyes, and said plainly, “I will show you what it feels like to be human.” Standing up, the demon opened his left hand. A glowing yellow orb the size of a baseball floated above his palm. “The soul of Amy Winehouse,” he said. Stretching his arm towards L’Da, the angel took out the Anima, pressed a button on it and watched as the soul flew into the tool.
“I will grant you your wish for a pardon,” L’Da promised to K’Hassat. “You will be returned to Level I.”
“What about me?” Ba’al’figor shouted.
“Oh,” K’Hassat laughed, “you will not be alone here in Level IV. I left you a present.”
The demon and angel vanished as did Ba’al’figor’s virtual handcuffs. Massaging his wrists, the fallen angel got up and surveyed the eerie darkness, listening intently for any sign that perhaps someone, anyone, would arrive to alleviate him of his impending loneliness.
STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!
Ba’al’figor heard, and felt, the monstrous footsteps, but he couldn’t figure out which direction it was coming from. With each passing second, the footsteps grew louder and louder while his fearful heart beat faster and faster. Then, looking straight ahead, he finally saw what was creating those thundering booms. With thousands of years at his disposal, K’Hassat had all the time in the world to create an exact replica of himself – same tremulous face, same tremulous shape, same tremulous disposition. This K’Hassat, Ba’al’figor noted, also carried a club the size of a tree trunk.
“No!” the fallen angel started yelling as K’Hassat II chased him around and around the 4th circle of Hell, bashing the giant club down just behind the running prisoner, causing mud to splash upwards to the dark sky. The demon would keep up this pace for the next 10,000 years or so, and poor Ba’al’figor, well, he will come to wish he never wondered what being human felt like.
EPILOGUE
Amy Winehouse, her soul restored back in its rightful place just one week before the festival, had enough time to fully recuperate and, per the request of guitarist Paul Kantner, drummer Spencer Dreyden, and violinist Papa John Creach, join them in reforming a new version of Jefferson Airplane to headline the concerts. Brian, also coming back to life, confessed to the Council of Angels that he had made a pact, albeit an unwise one, to let Ba’al’figor feel human emotions if he would supply him with heroin. Ba’al’figor, in his quest to understand humanity, had also exposed himself to the drugs. Brian apologized for not revealing he knew what had happened to Amy because he feared that Ba’al’figor would “disassemble” him – Ba’al’figor’s words. The Council forgave Brian then sent him off to Medical Heaven to be rehabbed.
Because of the havoc that was created, the angels acquiesced to some of the citizens’ demands – they received more credits for the work they did around town; if they were in good standing in the community, they no longer had to petition to travel through the other heavens; and no one would ever be forced to accept a work assignment they were uncomfortable with.
By Labor Day, the lineup for Woodstock ’69 Redux had been assembled and posted throughout the heavens by J’ai Né. Vai, visiting from Heaven Level II, did a quick inspection of the town and, finding everything was in order, gave the thumbs up for the concert, much to the relief of every angel. Hundreds of thousands of people attended the shows which, by all accounts, were a success. Eddie Cochran even played on the first day when he joined Phil Everly in a set of Everly Brothers classics. After the show, Eddie C and Tony did talk to each other momentarily, but the young detective thought their separate lives were in their best interest. The concerts were broadcast across the heavens and recorded for posterity’s sake. And for those interested in details, this was the lineup for the legendary three-day event.
SATURDAY – ROCKIN’ 50’S REVUE
MC – Wolfman Jack
12N – Screamin’ Jay Hawkins
1P – Bobby Darin & Shannon Hoon
2P – Bo Diddley with Warren Zevon
3P – Carl Perkins and Ronnie James Dio
4P – Gene Vincent & the Blue Caps
5P – Bill Haley & the Comets
6P – Professor Longhair featuring Roy Orbison
7P – The Platters
8P – Ritchie Valens and Jeff Healey
9P – The Everly Brothers featuring Eddie Cochran
10P – Buddy Holly & the Crickets
11P – Ray Charles
12P – Elvis Presley & the Ramones
Backup musicians for the 50’s Rockin’ Revue:
Bass – Kristen Pfaff
Guitar – Ronnie Montrose
Guitar – Scotty Moore
Guitar – Danny Gatton
Drums – Jeff Porcaro
Keyboards – Bob Mayo
Piano – Nicky Hopkins