Struggling With the Afterlife

by Ronald Stanley Jr.

  “I’ll be there!” Johnny called , faking all the excitement he could muster. “First I have to take a shit!”

  -------------------------------------

  The clowns. The first thing he’d noticed that day as they drove out in what looked like a tan Studebaker (he remembered his father - real father - have back in the 80’s) the troll had as they made their way to church was the run-down clowns.

  They weren’t happy at all yet made no effort to polish it up and act fake about it. Their faces were painted black and white with chipped paint, the black paint covering their eyes and mouth going downward in frowns and sadness.

  Each walked slowly and limp - like towards their destination; church. Each carried the Book Of The Bird with them. Some had strands of purple, green, red, orange or yellow hair, some had flowers on their black suits with white gloves - but all were sad.

  There were at least 200 that Johnny saw as they strolled their way to their destination. They came out of abandoned houses, the woods, broken down buildings (hell, every house he saw here was either broken down or abandoned, Johnny noted). Then, something else filled his nostrils. Saltwater.

  He let the car window down (they could only stroll; the sad clowns were on the street walking about and they were the only ones with a vehicle). The smell of the sea grew stronger, and fresh memories with it. Going to Hampton beach as a child, riding the mini cars that glowed with red and gray glitter. Going on bumper car rides at night. Playing Ski - ball with his father and sister. His father giving him 10$ to cash in for quarters so he could play video games (Tetris was his favorite). Eating fried dough and ice cream.

  And the words REPENT OR PERISH right where the trash was thrown. He got the message. But with hair on his balls and his dick as hungry as his mouth, it didn’t stop him from getting laid every Summer later on in life.

  Among the saltwater, breeze and memories, he heard something else with the seagulls in the distance. Robotic voices calling aloud. Each calling out a Bible verse over and over again. Then, the sound of angry waves coming in and drowning them out.

  They drowned out for a while, then came back, then drowned out again. Just like his memories here, he thought.

  Finally, the clowns seemed to structure themselves, gathering in somewhat of a line on the sidewalk and heading in unison to the same direction.

  The troll took a right, following the line.

  A couple blocks later on and Johnny gasped. He saw it up ahead. A big black church with paned windows. Much like the Catholic one he’d went to as a child, only the panes didn’t show the loving acts of Christ and his disciples.

  Instead, they showed acts of horror - one women being chased by a blue skinned monster with golden curli - cues interwoven within its skin. The woman had dropped a bottle of milk at the grocery store. She was running from the beast in the isle. Others were looking onward, hopeless and horrified as well.

  The creature had yellow curly hair and was holding a big knife out for everyone to see, especially the victim.

  If the woman didn’t fall on the spilled milk in front of her, Johnny thought, looking at the pane - she would have gotten the knife. Or both.

  The top half of the beast - it’s body - seemed to be made of porcelain. The bottom half - quilted legs and wooden hooved feet.

  In another windowpane, a pregnant woman was feeling her belly. Standing beside her was an ugly fuck of a troll, like Picklenose only uglier.

  It had bluish skin and yellow teeth and eye sockets (dirty brown pupils, Johnny saw and thought).

  The woman didn’t look happy, but oh the troll did!

  GIFTS AND SEEDS! was typed in bold letters on the top.

  Johnny saw the image of the bird flying in mid center of the 2 semi circles in bright red painted on top of the windowpanes on the church. In another windowpane, there were the Broken -Down -Clowns - about 10 of them, on the street, heading towards an ocean. On another, the inside of a bathroom stall with about 5 of the Porcelain Beasts he’d encountered earlier. Some friendly, some not so friendly.

  The troll parked his car on the side of the street. There was no music; the radio had been off. But the memories had filled Johnny’s head with a loudness he didn’t need the music for to be on.

  Then - the music DID come on. But not from the car.

  The violins. They were back. The sad violins that had him waking up from bad dreams as a child (and later on - but for now, those memories were repressed).

  They followed the sad clowns (and now, Johnny saw, trolls were coming out and joining them - different skin, different eye colors - but all trolls just the same).

  Then it hit Johnny when he saw some of the trolls with beautiful women. The women looked sad and submissive, looking down and even embarrassed.

  Was Picklenose one of their children. Was he not 100% troll at all, but half human?

  Johnny studied the troll, then the others, who were clearly bigger (some meaner) and uglier (but not by much) and not as smart.

  Yes, Johnny thought so.

  Gifts and seeds, indeed...

  Then Johnny saw something among the trolls, sad clowns and submissive women that perked him up faster than the coffee did earlier.

  Thomas was in the crowd. Thomas did not see him - not yet. But he would.

  When this mass was over, he would make sure of it by that time.

  Oh boy, would he ever..

  As he made his way inside, he saw the clowns and trolls alike greeting what he presumed to be “The Pastor.” He was a tall man in a business-like suit with a white and yellow flower pinned on his left. In his right hand he held the Book Of The Bird -all polished up and shiny like some held their bibles.

  The man’s hair was bright, black, curly and shiny. Looked like WD40 had been soaked in it, Johnny thought.

  It was the Pastor’s face, however, that held Johnny’s attention. It was white and shiny, made of porcelain, with a painted yellow beak. The eyes peeking out of the porcelain were golden and intelligent, with baby blue pupils.

  A bird - it’s a bird! Pastor Bird! Johnny thought. Only he wasn’t laughing to himself like he was with the troll. If this plastered bird wanted to, Johnny reckoned, he could summon every clown and troll here to tear the boy apart in an instant. THAT is what made Pastor Bird so dangerous. It was Johnny’s turn to meet Pastor Bird, and he didn’t have the same excitement as he did with The Writer. Meeting Pastor Bird made his stomach churn in knots.

  They locked eyes and Johnny stuck out an anxious hand. It was shaking even. The bird’s intelligent eyes, however, regarded the boy with a smile that surprised him.

  Then, just like the Writer, Pastor Bird had a gift for him. It seemed to appear from his right hand out of nowhere (and probably had, Johnny thought later on).

  It was a shiny silver baton - sparkling silver, much like the mini cars he remembered riding at Hampton Beach as a child in the Merry-Go-Rounds. As if to accompany this thought, the smell of saltwater from the ocean not too far away filled his nostrils again. That, and the smell of fried - dough.

  Thank God Johnny was not hungry - but he had a feeling after mass, he would be.

  Pastor Bird handed Johnny the baton, then gave him a pat on the back with a shiny white-gloved hand that had a grip to them when he shook it.

  But as the bite may be worse than the bark, it wasn’t the grip that was the strongest in Pastor Bird, but his shriek.

  Pastor Bird went off to greet the others in the church, from the sad clowns to the ugly trolls and their beautiful submissive wives. Then, all gathered in the pews (which had many shiny bird books in them) in an organized way that impressed Johnny. This wasn’t their first barbecue here. They’ve been coming for ages. They knew what to expect.

  The boy, however, did not.

  He looked around him and noted the troll was absent. He remembered him being with him a
s they made their way into the church, then at some point when he met Pastor Bird, he had gone.

  Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw Picklenose make his way towards him. He looked lighter and embarrassed at the same time. He’d been coming from a nearby bathroom stall, Johnny saw.

  “Had to take a dump, boy - Jenny makes some good breakfast!” he whispered as the others gathered, some looking back towards them.

  Johnny saw one of the ugly green skinned trolls turn, look at him at first with intimidation, then saw the baton in his hand and quickly look away. It wanted no part of the boy. Neither did Picklenose, the boy saw a moment later. He also saw the baton and moved away a couple inches.

  Something was about to happen.

  What it was, he didn’t know. But it involved him somehow - he could feel it.

  The boy joined everyone as they sat down. Then he got a clear view of the front of the church, and his stomach knotted up once again.

  Many windowpanes of acts of torture and brutality were on each side of Pastor Bird, who was in the center, book in hand, by a wooden stand. About 20 feet behind him was a large semi - oval shaped iron door, divided in two at the center.

  Pastor Bird opened up the book, then transformed, looking upwards. Bright wings, interwoven with black, red and gold colors, emerged from behind Pastor Bird, spreading out about 6 feet wide each. Feathers covered the ground as they spread out. The shiny shoes the pastor had were now talons. The bird grew about 5 more feet as the plastered face became one with feathers and a real beak.

  The golden, intelligent eyes though - they never changed. They were always the same.

  Pastor Bird then shrieked in the air. The shrieking turned into some strange guttural language that sounded both intriguing and horrifying. As it gurgled and shrieked, Johnny saw the sad clowns start to get up. Some of their legs were trembling, some dancing, some squirming like snakes.

  Then the trolls and women got up a little later on when the bird brought out a shiny golden horn from its right pocket.

  It was the same horn he’d heard in his dreams. Only now it wasn’t in the far distance. It was high pitched and piercing his and everyone there’s ear drums.

  The violins, Johnny thought. The violins are next..

  Looking around, he saw most of the sad clowns and trolls were delighted at this high-pitched horn. Though he also saw some hold their ears, the way you would at a loud concert.

  He had a flashback then. A very short one, but it came to him suddenly. He was at a concert as a kid. The band was playing, and it hurt his cousin Sarah’s ears. She was holding her ears and crying in protest.

  The singer kept asking the crowd if they wanted it louder. As they screamed in delight, his cousin kept crying and screaming in protest. However, her one scream was drowned out by the many others which outnumbered hers. Her mother/his aunt just ended up escorting them away from the sound.

  It was like that now - anyone that wanted the horn to be gone were outnumbered. And where it was Church Time, they may even be persecuted or killed for not liking it.

  At least they aren’t pretending to like drinking shit from a large toilet, Johnny thought. Then - shit, don’t tempt them!

  The horn finally DID start to wind down, Pastor Bird’s wings folding in a little. But as the wings folded in and the horn faded, Johnny heard the violins.

  Two other winged creatures now headed from both sides of the church towards Pastor Bird. They were blue skinned, their wings white with rainbow colored tips on them. Each had a violin in their hands and a bird - like face.

  The playing started off beautiful and opera - like. Then, by the time the horn fully faded, the violins got more melancholy and had a nightmarish vibe to them.

  Finally, the violins faded, and both blue angels put them down beside the wooden stand Pastor Bird stood on. There was silence for about a minute. Then more gurgling from the pastor in that bizarre language.

  As the pastor gurgled, the Clowns

  , trolls and their submissive wives (even Picklenose beside the boy) gurgled back. Some danced, some writhed like a snake, some hopped. But Johnny just looked down at his shiny sparkling silver baton and did none of these things.

  Then he looked back up. Thomas was in the crowd up ahead. Thomas with his blue jeans and silly Burger King shirt. Totally out of place in a place like this (well, Johnny felt out of place as well to be honest).

  Then, from both sides somewhere far off, Johnny heard the tapping of something. That something became a lot of somethings.

  Johnny looked to the left and right of him. Many large bugs that made his skin crawl were tapping the wooden floor of the church with their pinchers and claws, making their way up to Pastor Bird and his 2 Angelic Companions.

  Some looked like oversized caterpillars, some were large spider - like creatures with many more legs, eyes and even hair on them. Some seemed to be made from the ocean - crab-like monsters with segmented bodies also caterpillar-like.

  All made Johnny’s skin crawl. And looking around, as the music and dancing eventually stopped, he saw he wasn’t the only one.

  Just about everyone regarded them to the left and right with fear and anxiety.

  They hovered around Pastor bird in a giant mass of pinchers, stingers, fur and legs. Seeming to form one giant beast ready to eat someone alive.

  Johnny felt himself grip his baton.

  From behind Pastor Bird, the 2 iron doors swung open. On the other side it was night out and there were streetlamps somewhere.

  Suddenly the Sad Clowns, submissive wives and Ugly Trolls all stepped aside to the right of the pews in unison.

  The Angelic Companions with the blue skin took their violins and made their way back towards outside of the church. The mass of Creepy Crawlers divided on both sides, making a large gap of room.

  Pastor Bird gave a quick nod to Thomas, who reluctantly came up to him in the front.

  One day I will kill you, the boy thought again.

  He didn’t need the nod then. Johnny headed up the center isle towards his asshole stepfather.

  -------------------------------------

  Thomas had no baton. Even if he had, he would be no match for the boy’s rage.

  Thomas now saw the boy heading towards him. Instant recognition and fear came over him. The alcoholic ass-fuck ran from Pastor Bird and the rage filled boy , into the outside beyond the iron doors. The boy followed with his silver shiny baton.

  Johnny loved the look of horror on Thomas’s face as he stalked him beyond the door.

  It was dark now and they were on a dim lit sidewalk. From the distance he heard cars honking and going places - probably home from work or dinner dates. Or just a night out at McDonald’s with the kids.

  He heard crickets chirping in the distance in the long grass around the sidewalk. He saw oak trees among others around them, leading into darkness.

  “Pl - please Johnny - no!” Thomas called to him, hands going out in protest. He fell on the sidewalk as he did so.

  Johnny’s rage overtook him. He swung the shiny silver baton in the air over and over again.

  Blood of the asshole covered his face. Johnny’s laughs overcame the asshole’s screams in protest.

  He wasn’t a helpless boy anymore. He couldn’t be thrown down the stairs or pinned to the bed anymore.

  Finally, after 10 minutes or so (and long after the breathing mass of shit was dead and also covered in blood) Johnny stopped, exhaling in relief. He spat on Thomas and dropped the baton on him. It fell on the bloodstained Burger King shirt.

  The cars kept honking and strolling. The crickets kept - a chirpin’ ..

  The wind kept a blowin’ through the trees.

  From somewhere far off, Johnny heard sirens. He also heard a scared woman’s voice in the far distance say she thought someone was being attacked and she called 9-1
1.

  Johnny looked behind him. The door to Pastor Bird’s church was starting to close.

  He hurried towards it. He barely made it through before the iron behind him slammed shut with a

  CLANG!

  But not before he’d heard some of the creepy- crawlers on the other side of that door come out and devour Mr. Burger King. Some he even heard growl as they fought over his limbs. The last of the Creepy-Crawlers went off as he’d made his way through the door.

  All was absent now - the pews were empty, and it was only him and the troll, who was waiting for him by the door leading to the outside world of this place.

  He wondered if he should have stayed on the other side of that door. But of course with his bloodstained suit and serial killer eyes, he wouldn’t have gotten very far.

  Serial killer eyes. Where had that come from?

  He was just a boy that liked his Nintendo games and hated his stepfather.

  Wasn’t he?

  Johnny looked down at his bloodstained suit. He felt like he’d gotten a little bigger since ... Since when? Since he’d killed Thomas, that’s when. They drove in the car, saying nothing. The troll was amused (and even afraid?) of the boy, he sensed.

  Was he a boy?

  Johnny looked down at his arms. They had muscle, it seemed. Muscle and hair.

  He even felt it in his genitals now.

  Something had changed between then and now.

  When he’d gone through that door and back.

  They’d gotten home a little quicker this time. The parade of the sad clowns had dissipated into a few here and there. The trolls had gone home with their submissive wives to make more babies.

  A thought came to him.

  “Where was Jenny? Did she go to church?” he asked the troll as they parked in the garage.

  He looked back at him, eyes glimmering now, and a smile start to appear on his face.

  “Yes! She had to clean for a bit but managed to make it! She was in the back, watching. Sometimes she cleans up the mess afterwards as well.

  A great cleaner indeed!”