Purgatorium

by J. H. Carnathan

  I watch Gabriel pace across the floor.

  “And there is one more thing. You were a little unsure about this one, which might be why you’re standing with me now. You believed cleansing your sins—by killing your demon—would restore you in God’s eyes, and restore your full soul back to you. You can’t unlock the door unless your demon is dead.”

  That is where the gun that Michael gave me comes into play. But I don’t have any bullets for it.

  “I bring another gift. You gave me this to hold on to if anything were to happen.” Gabriel reaches into his outer coat pocket, pulls out a rectangular case, places it on the table, and opens it up, revealing a place for a pistol—like the one I already have, a flask of black powder, five lead shots, and a ramrod.

  I look at the box and its contents, recognizing them somehow. There are seven lead bullet slots. But it appears that two bullets are missing.

  “Remember, once you go in that tree it’s fair game. Your demon is fast like us and loves to talk. In the real world, demons are like a silent ninja. Always whispering in ears, plaguing the minds with doubt, fear, and prompting you to act on sinful natures. However, it’s the opposite here. You are able to actually hear your demon. Now the roles are reversed. You can’t speak and it has a chatterbox that won’t stop. Only this time, you can be that silent ninja who can drown out your demon by shoving that fire cannon into its dirty sinful mouth and pulling the trigger. Remember to not waste your bullets, because there are no redoes here. You’ve already used two, it seems. Once you run out, there’s no stopping your demon from getting what it wants.”

  He pauses. “Also, there is only one way to slow a demon down. You found out once before, but we asked you to keep it hidden from all of us. Didn’t want the demon to somehow get its gumbo hands on it. Thinking about it now, that wasn’t such a good idea, seeing that we only have a few days left.”

  Thank you, I think towards him. He lifts his glass to me and takes a sip of his wine.

  I look back at the hourglass standing on the edge of the roof. I feel confused and uncertain whether I can do everything I need to to free myself. I look down at the bullet case. The bullets aren’t familiar. How do I even fire this gun?

  I look up at the northern lights and close the pistol case. When I look over, Gabriel is gone. I look down at my watch. It is about to beep. I look over at the hourglass, the last grain of sand falls through the neck.

  55 minutes

  The hourglass flips over, starting to empty itself all over again. Knowing that it’s 55 minutes, I pick up the pistol case and turn towards the open elevator doors. I walk in and the doors shut. I press the level 6 button and feel the elevator taking me down.

  Staring at the closed elevator doors, I suddenly feel troubled. The one thing I forgot to ask Gabriel is where the door to get out was located? How will I know where to find it?

  I calm down, knowing I have another day with another angel to guide me ever forward. My attention centers back to the painting. Looking at each demon, I see a different trait that all of them don’t share. They seem to all have a different motive when fixated on the light.

  Why did I not see that before? I feel as though everyday that I learn something new about myself, I regain more and more things that I have never noticed before. I can somehow see clearer.

  The elevator stops and the doors slide open. I make my way out, through the hallway, and back to my door. I look over at the waitress’ door across from mine. I feel remorse now, remembering what Gabriel had done to her.

  Should I feel remorse? She is a lost soul after all. She is wanting to take my life away from me. I shouldn’t feel any kind of remorse to her. But I still can’t fight this sensation of feeling sorry for her at the same time. I open my door and walk in, closing any thoughts I have towards her for tomorrow.

  Now back in my apartment, I lean back in my reading chair and watch as the green-tinted aurora borealis flickers in a soft arc across the sky. I look over at the corner of the bed where the pistol case is sitting.

  I stand up and walk out the bedroom door, through the living room, and into the kitchen. I sort through the drawers wondering where I should hide it. I open one and see a big piece of duct tape, in another an arrangement of kitchen knives and silverware.

  I take the duct tape thinking I could hang it up somewhere enclosed. I turn and look at the refrigerator, opening the freezer door where my gun still lies. Its light floods the kitchen floor and walls. I place the case on top of the ice trays in the back right corner and close the door.

  Staring at the now-closed freezer, I can’t believe that my weapon of choice is a revolutionary war pistol. It’s hardly reliable, I think. But there must be a meaning for it, just like everything else in this place. I look in my pockets to find something I have missed. I pull out the last picture Michael had taken. I gaze at the image to find the last hourglass is right here.

  I look in my other hand at the duct tape and think of something else I could use it for. I take the blueprints that Gabriel gave me and the picture, and head to my bedroom. Using a piece of tape, I stick the picture on my window.

  I then tape up the blueprint of the whole town on my wall next to my framed American flag. Stepping back, I admire my work.

  Then something catches my eye that I never really saw before on the map. I look at where the subway station is and see writing to the side of it.

  It reads: 42:02 problem.

  Gabriel said something about that but never elaborated on it. I think to myself on what it could possibly mean. Isn’t that the time the music plays on the outside? Why would that be a problem? I clear my head knowing that I have gained enough information today.

  I lie on my bed, still in my clothes, thinking over all that has happened today, especially my conversations with Gabriel. So far, I’ve been lucky surviving for so long, I think. I still need more information about who I am and the only place to get my answers is inside that tree.

  I try to keep my eyes open so I can use the time remaining to think.

  I look over at my clock: 59:14, 59:15, 59:16.

  I reach into my inside jacket pocket and take my wallet out, look inside it, and find the photo of Madi. I remove it and lean it up against the front of the clock to block the time. I gaze at her face, wondering where she is and if she’s waiting for me. I feel my eyes getting heavier. Though exhausted, I take a deep breath to try to wake up. At the same time, I know that it is unavoidable. Only in sleep is there peace, I like to think. But even that proves to be a more difficult barter every day. I glance over to the window and watch in its reflection the hourglass dropping the last sand particle to the very bottom as I shut my eyes to sleep.

  I watch my rearview mirror, trying to see the Valkyrie that Gabriel had mentioned, but I see nothing. I look over at Madi next to me in the passenger’s seat. She reaches into her bag on the floor in front of her and brings out a book.

  “Remember this?” she asks. It’s her book, I observe. The one she left behind at the coffee shop. “You know, I never told you this, but I left this on purpose.” I look at her, not understanding. “You seemed like you needed a little hope.”

  I feel even guiltier now, thinking about something I have done but can’t tell Madi. I want to, but I can’t. I smile at her instead. She flips to her favorite passage.

  “Do you remember my favorite verse?” I shake my head no, even though I know what it is.

  When I first opened that book, it was the only thing that was highlighted. I had memorized it. Even though I had considered myself an atheist, that verse had become my favorite as well. Not only that, it had changed my entire life. I started believing. But never once had I ever told Madi. Never once had I said that that single verse had turned my whole life around—when I started believing in God.

  I see the Valkyrie flash by in my rearview mirror. My heart beats faster and I grip the whee
l tighter. I look out the driver’s side window to the side mirror but there is no sign of the creature, nothing in the rearview mirror either. I press down on the gas pedal, worried about the Valkyrie coming after me.

  Madi smiles. She reaches her hand over and places it on mine, then looks up at the coin necklace wrapped around the rearview mirror.

  “When are you going to tell me what this means?” she asks, nodding her head toward the necklace.

  I look at my necklace and back to Madi. “Family,” I say.

  “Ha, that’s what you always say,” she responds.

  I look over at her. She smiles, touching her stomach gently. “Honey?” she asks, looking at me.

  I read the sign ahead of us: “Dead End ¼ Mile. Last Entrance to Interstate.” The car starts shaking, as if something were trying to pick it up. I feel the steering wheel jerk to the right. The last ramp to the interstate is just ahead. I try to hold the wheel straight but the car turns onto the onramp. I try to force the wheel in the other direction and the car jerks back and forth a little, but it stays on course for the onramp. Madi looks more and more terrified, clutching at her seat and dashboard.

  “What are you doing? Are you trying to get us killed?” Madi screams. The car merges onto the interstate.

  I want to yell out, “I’m trying to save us! I need you to be quiet!” but I don’t. Madi cries, looking down at her belly and then back at me.

  “I will change my fate,” I say to myself. “I will change my fate. I will change my fate.” An alarm starts beeping in the distance.

  TUESDAY

  Raphael

  My alarm clock is beeping. I quickly slam my hand down, turning it off. My eyes adjust to the light slowly. As I pick up my watch, I notice the Handbook once again sitting beside it. I think the angels are trying to tell me something.

  I think about Madi and how gullible her words were towards Christ, making me believe that God has our best intentions at heart. What a joke it all seems now. Even his best Angels are a little screwed-up in the head. If I am going to survive this place it will be because of me, not him.

  I prop myself up in my bed, rubbing my left hand over my overgrown stubble. I run my right hand through my hair and notice it is much longer now. Why is my hair getting longer everyday? I think.

  I look out towards my window and can’t see the hourglass reflecting off of it.

  Why can’t I see it now?

  I stand, groggily looking out my window. Outside, the trees are budding and birds fly by, landing on wet branches.

  The race enters my head, plagued with thoughts of constant doubt.

  I can’t believe my life gets to be decided by a race. Sunday is a few days away and that’s not even counting that I only have an hour per day. I’m not going to be fast or strong enough by then.

  I suddenly hear the sound of a match being lit. I see a blurry figure sitting in the chair by the window. I blink and rub my eyes, looking again.

  The dark figure says, “Springtime brings with it the ideas of re-growth, rejuvenation, renewal, resurrection, and most of all, rebirth. I’m more of a realist myself.”

  The light flickers on a small object protruding out from the dark figure’s jacket pocket. It’s the Ten of hearts, which leads me to believe that it must be Raphael gracing me with his presence.

  Raphael appears from the shadows, leans back in his chair, and begins puffing smoke from his cigarette with panache. He takes a few hard sniffs and says,“Is that doubt I’m smelling? It smells a lot like doubt in here. Do you smell it? Very stinky a smell is doubt. Can really bring a person down from its stench alone.”

  He pauses, taking another smoke break with his lit cigarette still in his hand.

  “God created man. God gave man free will. God gave one rule. Man breaks rule, God leaves man. Man learns to survive—becomes sinful to survive. Man evolves out of his sins. I mean, really, God’s plan is simple. He wants all of you to succeed. Once that forbidden fruit was tasted, God left you with your immoral sins and judgments, letting only you to decide on your own free will of choice. Sin, nowadays, is a religion to you people. The theme of the story is you people give up on yourselves too easily.”

  The piano starts playing “The Light in the Piazza.” It must be 3:10, I think. I’m growing accustomed to not looking at my watch.

  Raphael stares at me, dragging on his cigarette. “We find out today what kind of man you really are.” He walks over to the fridge, opens the freezer door, reaches for the pistol case, and takes it out. He walks back to the bedroom, puts the case down on the windowsill, opens it, and quickly loads it.

  I am in shock that he found it so quickly. I think I have learned enough to get me through. There is nothing else they can really teach me. I am a big boy now, I don’t need to be babysat any longer. I’m sure he will understand. Less stress for him and myself.

  I walk over to him, ready to get his attention to what I have to say, when Raphael tosses the pistol to me. I catch it clumsily. “If your demon had found that pistol, you would have been screwed. Keep it with you at all times.”

  I walk over to my bedside table to pick up my watch when Raphael starts coughing up a lung.

  “You won’t be needing that. Give it to me.” He extends his hand out to me. I wait, not wanting to give it to him. “Since you assume that you know everything, then having a watch around is the least of your worries. I mean, you are such a big boy now and all. Don’t need a babysitter like me trying to teach you how to shoot or nothing. Right?”

  Raphael takes another long drag from his cigarette and then puts it out on the windowsill, exhaling smoke in my direction. I get nervous, forgetting that Angels can read my mind. But he has to understand where I am coming from. I hold the watch in my hand and think about the possibilities of actually needing it.

  “Give me the watch and I will leave you alone. You will have the whole day to yourself. How does that sound?” he says with a sour voice.

  I try to see if I can read his mind when he looks at me, tilting his head. “You don’t even wanna know what is going through my mind at this moment in time, brotha.” He looks at me as if he were going to throw me out of the window or something.

  “Or something,” he says back to me in a condescending voice. I can see in his crazy green eyes that he is not playing around. Terrified at what he could do, I give him the watch and keep my thoughts to a minimum. Raphael puts my watch on his wrist and takes another puff. My room is getting clouded up. I sit there waiting for him to leave.

  His words mumble through the cigar in his mouth, saying to himself, “Insecurity dressed up as confidence.” He laughs at the loud thought, thinking I didn’t hear him. He then grows quiet. Raphael stares at me for a few seconds, licking his lips as he puts a cigar in his mouth. “It’s funny how you want to be alone when you have the ‘black angel’ coming to help your sorry…”

  He takes his matchbook and lights another match. The lit match burns the end of his cigar. He takes a few puffs and sits there in silence. He lets out the smoke, coughing his lungs out while he does so. “That’s exactly what I needed,” he says, speaking to himself.

  “Well, a deal is a deal. Good luck, you soul survivor you! Made my job easy.” He laughs as he takes another big puff.

  The smoke fills the air, blinding me. I wave the smoke away and look up at the window again. Raphael is gone.

  Finally, I think. I pass by the hatchet in its glass case and go into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I am glad to see the hourglass reflecting from it. I watch the sand pour down little by little. I glance around and see no one watching me, then reach my hand out and get close enough to touch it. I stop and take my hand back. I can’t risk it.

  I grab the razor and once again try to cut my beard. I start with my neck and I shave upwards, slowly. Suddenly, I slip and fall face-first in the mirror, cracking it and the hourgla
ss. The glass from the mirror sprays out. Pieces of it fall into the sink as I drop my face, not wanting to get cut.

  What have I done?! I look down in the sink and see the razor blade. There is a shade of red at its tip. I feel my neck and look up. The mirror is somehow back to normal. The hourglass is unbroken. I glance down and the shards of glass are nowhere to be seen.

  I look back at my reflection and see the small cut on my neck. My mind is playing games on me again, I think. It’s feeling more real. Soon I won’t be able to tell what is real and what is not. Maybe this has to do with my body on the outside. Or the reapers erasing my mind so many times that I am all messed up.

  I stare at myself and feel as if a cancer is spreading in me and it’s just a matter of time before it eats me alive. I need to clear my head of this notion. Think about happy thoughts. I think about Madi and the promise I made to her. I straighten myself back up and walk to my closet.

  I open the doors, walk in, look at my suit, and remember Madi buying this for me. I think back to that date for a moment of clarity. I can still smell her perfume. I take the suit off the rack and begin my morning routine.

  As I put on my jacket, seeing the Jack of hearts sticking out, I remember what Raphael had said.

  My insecurity is dressed up as confidence. Maybe he is right. Physically I feel stronger than I ever have been, but mentally I feel weak and I don’t know why.

  Now dressed, I tuck the pistol into my pants in the back, then lift my jacket over to conceal it. I look back at the bedroom door and see Madi holding a plate of eggs and sausage. The cancer is spreading to me again. She is not real, I think to myself.