by Alicia Ryan
“What the fuck? How am I supposed to get to work? I’ll call the cops on your ass, you prick.”
“We’re going to take a walk,” Tuesday said calmly. He threw the steering wheel to the ground, and came around the truck again. When he got within reach, he shot his hand up behind Red Bull’s head before the man could react and grabbed a handful of long black hair. He wrapped it around his right hand, tugging hard to make his point and spinning Red Bull around. He shoved him forward until they were well past the diner and headed out into the desert.
For once in the limited time Tuesday had known him, Red Bull seemed determined to remain quiet.
“What’s wrong, Red? Nothing to say when it’s just man to man?”
“Nope. Cause if we keep walking, we’ll be far enough out nobody will find your body when I’m done with you.”
“Do you really think I haven’t thought of that?” Tuesday asked softly.
Red Bull tried to look over his shoulder, but Tuesday jerked on his wad of hair, forcing Red’s eyes to remain forward.
They covered several miles this way, up and over low hills and down into another valley. Tuesday finally let go of Red Bull’s hair and sent him staggering forward with a kick to his lower back.
“Now I’d suggest you run,” he advised, trying to keep a grip on his temper. “I’ll even give you a count of five for a head start.”
Red Bull started toward him, and Tuesday raised his hand. “You really don’t want to do that.”
“Like hell I don’t.”
The man took two more steps before he realized the ground was opening up beneath him in a line that stretched and widened from Tuesday’s feet to his. Dirt and rocks began to fall from both sides down into the crevice.
Tuesday envisioned the crack growing and Red Bull falling into it - straight to hell. He wondered if that would work. At any rate, the burgeoning earthquake he’d managed to create seemed to startle Red out of his usual state of rage. A satisfying storm of fear clouded his face, dropping his furious red skin to an unhealthy pallor.
Tuesday realized that look pleased him more than it probably should. “Like I said, if I were you, I’d run.”
The crack opened wider, and Red Bull took Tuesday’s advice and began to run in earnest in the other direction, down into a rocky canyon. Tuesday felt his anger turn to hate as Red Bull tried to get away. It ignited inside him and burned through all his good intentions. He didn’t want to just scare Red Bull; he wanted to remove him from Mary’s life – from anybody’s life. He leapt to the left of the crack he’d somehow opened and began to give chase.
Red Bull was surprisingly fast. Tuesday pumped his legs to keep up, following Red Bull up steep climbs toward the top of the other rim of the canyon. He’d never been hiking or rock climbing in his life, but lack of fear made him faster than Red - deadly fast.
He reached the flat top of the canyon at the same time as his quarry, with Red Bull about fifty yards to his right. He ran single-mindedly at the man, determined to see the end of him. He’d made Mary a promise, and, in truth, he knew Red Bull was dangerous to her as long as he drew breath.
Rage propelled him even faster, as if his feet weren’t touching the ground. It was several seconds before he realized they weren’t. He was flying.
Shock brought him up short as he looked back to see huge, black wings. They stretched out like ebony waves rising and then crashing down from his shoulders.
He shook his head. It couldn’t be.
Red Bull grunted, and Tuesday blocked out everything about his wings except that they made him faster in his pursuit. Red Bull was the only evil here, Tuesday told himself. He grabbed the shocked man up by his hair and one shoulder.
“What…what…?” Red Bull gasped.
“Your worst nightmare.”
Tuesday flew further away, into even more remote territory, up to the top of another orange canyon. The temptation to drop Red Bull from forty feet was nearly overwhelming. He wanted this man dead. He wanted it as much as he’d ever wanted anything.
An image of his father flashed suddenly into his mind, and he cringed in horror. Carl Morrie didn’t raise a murderer.
Tuesday gritted his teeth, and settled for dropping Red Bull from about ten feet. He hit the ground with a thud and a surprised grunt.
“Stronger forces than you have taken an interest in Mary,” he declared. “Your interest in her is hereby terminated. Is that clear? If you show up anywhere near her, I will not resist the temptation to kill you…slowly.”
He floated closer to Red Bull. “I’ve seen the inside of hell, Red, and I can make it even worse for you – right here – if you come near Mary again.”
Red Bull put up his hands. “I won’t touch her, I swear.”
“You won’t even come within sight of her. Whatever you’ve got at her place, buy new ones. She’s off limits or you’re a dead man. Worse than dead.”
“I…I…got it. I swear. By all the spirits of my ancestors, I swear.”
Tuesday opened up a crack in the ground right below the still stuttering man, sending him falling again, but Red managed to clasp the edge, leaving his feet dangling only a few feet from the bottom.
Tuesday turned away.
“You can’t just leave me out here.”
“Of course, I can.”
Tuesday covered the distance back to the diner in less than a minute, vowing to give his new wings a proper trying out sometime soon. Just as soon as he could bear to think about them.
Inside, he sat down to coffee, bacon and runny eggs. His breathing returned to normal, and the horror of what had happened started to sink in. He’d gotten his wings in a moment of pure hate. He wasn’t fit to be a Good angel, and he would reside forever in hell. He closed his eyes. It wasn’t even Tuesday.
“Dare I ask?” Mary said when she brought him the check. She’d respected his silence all through the meal.
“I didn’t kill him, if that’s what you’re worried about. I didn’t even hurt him, actually, but, trust me, you don’t have to worry about him coming back.” He looked up at her. “So you can burn his stuff and bag this crappy job if you want. I’m sure the other place would take you back.”
“And miss seeing you every day?”
He chuckled. “You could have dinner with me instead.”
“I’d like that. Let’s just wait a bit, okay? Everything’s kind of…unsettled for me at the moment.” She smiled. “I guess I should thank you for that.”
“It can wait.” He wrote his cell phone number on a flimsy napkin. “Call me when you feel like taking advantage of me for a free meal.”
She folded the napkin carefully and slid it into her apron pocket.
Tuesday left his money on the table, not bothering to cash in on his free breakfast deal.
Standing before her, he leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. “Don’t wait too long, Mary.”
She shook her head. “I think you know I won’t.”
On his way out, he turned back to her. She was watching him leave. “Do I still remind you of him?” he asked. “That boy you knew?”
She started. “Of course. Why wouldn’t you?”
He looked down at the black and white linoleum. “Just checking.”
Chapter Eight
That day, when Tuesday became Herman he changed his eye color to a plain brown. If Mary Louise did come back, he couldn’t afford to have her making connections. The explanations would take longer than they had to work with.
During the week he’d been courting her, he and Price had also been continuing to work with Charlie. Tricia got Charlie to tell her his suspicions about Lucian, and she promised to keep her eyes open. She succeeded in making Charlie feel like they were partners in an exotic spy mission, and Charlie - with an important secret and who was now obviously on cozy terms with the most gorgeous woman in the office – was starting to attract attention.
Price at one point whisked him to San Jose to buy some decent clothes. When
Charlie wanted to know why the stuff he got at the warehouse store wasn’t good enough, Tuesday was happy to hear Price say even he wouldn’t shop in a place that advertised ‘Buy four pairs of socks, get a suit free!’
“Why do I need suits?” Charlie wanted to know.
“You don’t, but you need to dress like you’re the company CFO and a major stockholder. You can’t look like Herman here, who barely gets let out of the mailroom.”
The undeniable new female attention Charlie was getting inevitably led to more male attention as well. Herman noticed the other men now included him in conversations around the office – all except Lucian and Mike Orzio. They continued to view him with undisguised contempt, but there weren’t any more open confrontations.
Tuesday elected not to reveal his new form to Charlie. He continued to be Herman all day, and once he stopped going to the diner, he was Herman except when he and Price retired to their apartment. He hadn’t yet told Price about his wings.
By the end of the following week, Price decided Tricia should cast her lot firmly with Lucian, so she explained to Charlie that she wouldn’t be spending as much time with him – but they were still on the same team.
The office rumor mill, which Tuesday discovered consisted chiefly of a middle-aged woman named Janice who worked in HR, revealed that Mary would be starting work the following Monday.
“I’m a little surprised she’s coming back so soon. I mean, she does have the funeral to take care of,” Janice informed him.
“Funeral?” Herman repeated, not sure he’d heard her correctly.
“Oh, yeah. Didn’t you hear? It was just terrible – well, maybe not so terrible. Some hikers found her boyfriend’s body up in the mountains a couple of days ago.”
“Red’s dead?” He was horrified at his lack of anything like remorse.
“He’s dead all right. And you want to hear something weird?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Well, my friend’s cousin Tommy, see, he works at the county Sheriff’s office over in Clovis, and he told her that when they brought the body down, it looked like he’d been attacked by a wolf and trampled by a horse.”
Tuesday frowned. “Are there wolves here?”
Janice shook her head. “That’s what made ‘em rule it a cougar attack. They figure the cat must’ve dragged the body soon after killing him – you know, to bruise him so bad. They’ve gone out and cautioned all the farmers out there to be on the lookout for a big cat.” She shook her head. “Apparently Tommy still swears, though, that most of the bruises look like horse shoes.”
Tuesday left Janice’s cubicle scratching his head. At any rate, he discovered over the course of the day that everyone seemed glad Mary was coming back, and not one person shed any tears for the recently departed Red Bull.
***
The next morning Tuesday again drove out to the Route 8 diner for breakfast. Mary seemed surprised to see him.
“I’m not trying to crowd you,” he said as he slid into his usual booth. “I heard about Red Bull.”
She put the menu in front of him.
“I just wanted you to know it wasn’t me,” he explained. “I couldn’t bear it if you thought I did that.”
Mary shook her head. “It’s okay. I know it wasn’t your fault. Everything that ever happened to Red Bull was his own fault.” A slight smile appeared. “I don’t even blame the cougar. Knowing Red, he probably started it.”
Tuesday breathed a sigh of relief, and put in his usual order.
He heard the tinkling of the bell above the door, and turned to see wolfman and horsey come in together. They sat in the booth wolfman usually occupied by himself. When they sat down, wolfman looked at him over horsey’s shoulder and winked.
Tuesday spun back around. No way, he thought, but then again…if Charlie could turn into a beaver…?
He turned around again, and this time the wolfman and horsey were both grinning at him.
No way, he thought again, shaking his head. That just can’t be it.
“Listen,” Mary said when she brought him his eggs. “Red’s service is Sunday out at the reservation. That’s why I haven’t called.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
She shook her head. “No, that wouldn’t be right, though I doubt there will be many there to mourn him – probably just me and his mother, and even I can’t mourn the man he was.” She looked out the window. “Maybe the man he might have been.”
Tuesday desperately wanted to ask her more questions, but he knew now wasn’t the time.
“Will you have dinner with me on Monday?” he asked.
Mary took a deep breath. “Yes,” she said, giving him her attention once more. “Yes, I will have dinner with you on Monday.” She thought for a minute. “Maybe you should just pick me up at work? That’ll be my first day back at my old job, so it will save you quite a drive. It’s the office supply building on Third Street. You really can’t miss it. It’s got a giant pencil balloon out front.”
“Okay. What time should I come for you?”
“Quarter past five? Is that too early?”
He shook his head. “That’s perfect.”
He made a show of finishing his order, but mostly settled for the just-barely-decent coffee. He left his money on the table, with a note on the check that he would see her on Monday.
The wolfman and horsey both raised their coffee mugs in a bizarre salute to him as he went out the door.
***
“Feel like a strip club?” Price stuck his head into Tuesday’s room.
Tuesday was sitting on the bed, staring into the mirror at his more chiseled face, his longer, darker, wavier hair, his new clothes – scared to death to see his new wings.
“You look like you could use one.”
“One what?” Tuesday turned around. “Wait – you’re taking Charlie to a strip club?”
“Yeah, why not? It’s Saturday night. Turns out Strawberry has an itty bitty red light district over near Clovis. Thought we’d check it out.”
“Charlie – who every time he gets nervous, turns into a beaver?”
“Oh.” Price pursed his lips. “I’d kind of forgotten about that. No worries. I won’t take him to any decent places then. We’ll just find a bar with a few girls on poles and get hammered.”
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. Charlie is a good man, Price. He’ll be kind to Mary. That’s what she needs. Why try to teach him to objectify women?”
Price grunted. “He’s too good by far. He’s positively sweet. No woman wants a man that’s fucking sweeter than she is. Trust me,” he said. “Charlie needs to get out more. We’ll go slow. Besides, where would you rather have him turning into a beaver – in front of some random girl with dollar bills in her undies or in front of Mary on their first date?”
Tuesday dragged a hand down his face. “Shit, I didn’t even think of that. Maybe he’ll just have to tell her.”
“Yeah, right.” Price laughed. “That’ll win her heart.”
“Okay, not right away, I agree. But he’ll have to tell her eventually. Either that or figure out how to stop changing when he doesn’t want to.”
“And when exactly would anyone ever want to turn into a beaver?” Price drawled.
Tuesday couldn’t help but chuckle. “Arbor Day?”
“Think he ever eats trees?”
“I don’t know. I’d be surprised if he’s ever stayed beaver for very long. At least in that form he can scurry off to hide fairly easily.”
“Huh. I wonder. Did I tell you he has a woodshop in his garage? I think he said he made some of his furniture.”
“You think?”
“Uh…I was pretty drunk at the time. I’ll mention it tonight. Does it matter?”
“Not really. Unless ‘Tricia’ gets him fired from his job. Then I guess maybe he’ll have something to fall back on.”
“Very funny. Tricia is doing great, by the way. Old Lucian is practically eating out of my hand. I’ll h
ave him on his knees in no time.”
“There’s an image I could have done without.” He shook his head. “You really think he’ll just confess he’s been cooking the books?”
“Yep.”
“How can you possibly know that?”
“Once I start to make him think Tricia has a dangerous side, that she doesn’t give it up for just any old office jockey, he’ll be begging her to take his confession.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Tuesday replied, pairing his comment with steeply arched brows.
“Speaking of which – what’re you doing, if you’re not coming with Charlie and me?”
“I thought I might try to see Ariel.”
“Not that I blame you, but you might want to be a little careful in that department.”
Tuesday frowned. “Why do you say that?”
“Fallen archangels, by definition, aren’t exactly to be trusted.”
“Because of what she did?”
Price nodded. “Well, yeah. You’ve got to admit it seems she likes to keep to her own agenda.”
“That’s ancient history. Maybe you should give her a break.”
“Maybe, but you should still be careful. Her dominion has two sides, if I recall correctly.”
“Dominion?”
“All the archangels have dominion over something – even the Fallen. You should ask her about it.”
Tuesday’s frown deepened. “I will. I hope she’s up for twenty questions.”
“So you want me to drop you off before I go get Charlie?”
Tuesday closed his eyes. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Is she coming here?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then how do you –?” Price’s eyes widened. “You got your wings? Why didn’t you tell me? Let’s see ‘em.”
Tuesday rose. “We’ll need to go into the living room.”
Price spread his hands. “What – you’re suddenly afraid I’m going to jump your bones?”
“Jesus – should I be?”
Price laughed. “You are pretty hot now. Even I’ll admit that. But I don’t usually go for guys – unless I’m playing at being a woman. Then it’s kind of fun – a lot of fun, actually.” His eyebrows danced. “Want to have a go with Tricia?”