by K. B. Draper
“AJ, this is really bad if this is a Nolia,” Danny said, stating the obvious.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Run back?” I asked, wanting to burn off the anxiety that our little discovery had stirred up.
Danny nodded. “Yep.”
I kept pace with Danny this time, not wanting to leave his side. Now that we thought we were dealing with a Nolia, I didn’t know what to expect. Not that we ever really knew. Demons are like humans; they varied in size, shape, intelligence, and evil. But damn, Nolia Flauas were once angels. Correct me if I get this Sunday school story wrong, but that’s like Lucifer level stuff. I don’t think I’m digging this whole Nolia on Earth thing. I let my thoughts run with the idea. Yep, it’s verified. I can say with 100 percent certainty, I was not loving the blood-spreading, hand-removing, web-throwing, cocoon-making, flying part of the Nolia’s personality. I also didn’t like the fact it was out and about grocery shopping during the day. Most of the demons Danny and I have encountered have been night dwellers. There wasn’t any real reason they couldn’t be out in the daylight; most simply preferred the night. Probably because it gave them the cover to move around more freely. It also gave me time to think, hunt, and find the bastards. But, midday flyovers? Nope, not digging them at all.
I leapfrogged a large tree and jogged in place as I waited for Danny to scramble over it. My mind drifted back to the human-size cocoons hanging from the tree branches. We knew of only two missing persons and there were at least six cocoons—at least that’s what we saw before the flyover-interruptous. We’d need to find out if there were any other reports of missing persons in the area. Ashlyn could be a resource as I don’t see me walking into the sheriff’s department and having a jovial chat about possible other dead bodies.
When we finally hit the edge of the lake, we stopped, deciding to walk the rest of the way back to the camp. We were both hot and sweaty. As I stared out over the calm water, I thought some food and then a swim would be the perfect way to wash away the bad—for a little bit anyway.
Danny and I set to our normal routine. He started the food preparations, and I stoked the fire and got out the utensils. He was obviously hungry or stress eating, which he tended to do especially when it was his … okay fine, my time of month, as he went all out with bacon, eggs, and pancakes.
We were both silent. The only sound was my growling stomach, as I crammed another bite of pancake in my mouth. Danny is an excellent pancake maker, sometimes even making me little devil heads and weapon-shaped pancakes. I got plain old circles this morning. Apparently, the thought of a Nolia Flaua on Earth took the creative whimsy out of his culinary skills. Damn it.
Danny spent his chew time thinking. “Most demons escape their plane through a hellgate, land here, cause havoc, and well, we take care of them. But, what if …”
“What if what?” I asked when he didn’t finish his sentence.
He looked at me. “He was sent here?”
“You think the Nolia Flaua was sent here?” I asked over a strip of syrup-soaked bacon.
When he gave an “I don’t know” shrug, I continued. “Why do you say that he was sent here?”
“Just a thought. I mean, a Nolia is some serious muscle. There are rumors …”
I paused the fork heading to my mouth. “Rumors?”
“You know, like apocalypse kind of rumors.”
“Apocalypse kind of rumors?”
“Yeah. You know, Satan coming here to take over the world kind of thing.”
I dropped my fork. “Are you kidding me right now?”
Danny shoved in the last bite of his pancake, speaking over it. “Just a thought.”
“Just a thought is … is … I think I’ll go to town and buy an apple pie, not,” I waved an elaborate hand, “oh, the world might be coming to an end.”
“Aunt Flo wants an apple pie, doesn’t she?” Danny asked.
“Always, duh. But how about we talk about other things we know. Like, what do we know about Nolia Flauas?”
“Right, umm … most Nolia Flauas before they take the trip to the land down under-”
“You bastard. You did that so I’d have that song in my head the rest of the day, didn’t you?”
Danny grinned. “Maybe.”
“I’m going to shove a vegemite sandwich down your-”
“Anyway, most Nolias are warriors, avenging angels, and they’re mostly dudes.” Danny explained.
“Mostly dudes?”
Danny nodded.
“Well, good to know we’re true to our stereotypical gender roles even in heaven. So delicate female Nolia Flauas play nursemaid, keep the home, and make the meals while the big strong men Nolias are off warring it up-”
“Hey, I make most of the meals,” Danny protested.
“And you do it so well, you big progressive man, you.” I handed him my empty plate. “You do realize the demons we fight are males and now the Nolia are typically males. Are you seeing a gender theme here?”
“Hey, chicks can be bad too!”
“Yes, but the word is usually followed by asses. Badasses.”
“Whatever. Anyway.” He stood, taking both our dishes to the water container. “I’ll check in with the elders, ’cause I don’t know about the whole web and cocoon thing. That’s never been referenced with Nolias but …”
“You go do that. I’ll get the dishes. Then I’m going to rinse off in the lake. Join me if you want when you’re done?”
“Sure.” Danny nodded, then headed off to his go-kart of a car.
As I cleaned up, I returned to the thought of a Nolia Flaua and the den of creepy. Like Danny, I didn’t remember anything about Nolias and a fascination with spiders. Just our luck we get the odd demon out.
“Still nothing,” Danny said behind me a few minutes later, causing me to jump. Danny eyed me curiously. “What the hell? I never cause you to do that. Well, other than that one time in Texas when I caught you in the back of Woody with those twins-”
“Fun story. Moving on,” I said, cutting him off.
He took the clean dishes from me and packed them away. “You had to be deep in thought. You working on a theory?”
“Just wondering what we’re up against.” I hung the wet towels over a nearby tree limb to dry. “Wondering what other special powers they have besides up, up, and away. And the freaking spider webs.” I pointed at him. “If you tell me he shoots those spider webs from his freaking wrists, I’m going to seriously wig.”
Danny gave me a curious look. “As much as I’d kind of like to see that, I honestly don’t know. I don’t think there are any records of a Nolia Flaua coming here before. At least not as far back as I’ve read. I’m sure Grandfather will know, as soon as he returns.”
“He’s been at the walk for a long time,” I said, stating the obvious.
“I know.” Danny shrugged, but I saw worry in his eyes.
I walked over and squeezed his shoulder. “He’s fine, and we’ll handle whatever it is.” When he nodded, I made a suggestion. “How about we hit the lake and then head into town. Maybe we can find some answers there.” I started for the water. “We need to verify who the bodyless goo-man is and the owner of the hand—and whoever else might be currently doing bad impressions of creepy Christmas tree ornaments.”
Danny snorted. “You’re sick.”
“And you laughed, Danny Darko, so welcome to the club.”
There were three questions floating around in my mind as Danny and I drove into town. We knew of possibly two missing people and there were a half-dozen cocoons, so who else was playing bad tree ornament? Two, why was the Chief taking an extended cruise to Spiritville? And three, this question came from somewhere more south than my brain, but when would I be seeing Ashlyn again?
We started our little investigative town tour with the church, but the parking lot was empty. We moved on to hit Betty’s. We came out with the same information we went in with, plus a sleeve of powdered donuts, so winner. Next, we hit the roadside
vegetable stand where we got some great sides for dinner but no useful information unless someday Danny develops gout or I marry a good-for-nothing son-of-a-bitch and breastfeed five kids. Eva was quite the storyteller.
Between the swim in the lake, cleanup, the trip around town, and Eva’s “My life sucks” tutorial, it was already noon. “Take a right. Let’s go to the square, get something to eat, and see if we can stir up any gossip at the local cafe,” I suggested. “Maybe someone there might know something about the guy in the truck or any other missing persons.”
A few miles later we were parking in front of the small restaurant just off the square and down around the corner from the sheriff’s department. The looks and whispers started as soon as Danny and I got out of Woody.
“I’m not sure they’re going to be friendly,” Danny muttered.
“Maybe not, but I bet at least half the menu items come with gravy so buck up boy toy and let’s walk our pretend mixed-race couple asses in there and put on a show.” I wrapped my arm in his. Danny and I have played the boyfriend/girlfriend card lots of times, and he hates it. I’m not really sure why. Many guys and gals over the years would have loved to tag me with that title. It could be the ass-grabbing, earlobe-biting, and repeated “snook-ums” and “boo-bear” names I assault him with, but that’s just a wild guess.
Danny stepped forward to open the restaurant door for me. I grabbed his ass. “Thank you, lover muffin.”
He immediately swatted my hand away. “Stop that. You know I hate when you do that.”
Okay, theory tested and proven. Moving on.
The little restaurant was straight out of Mayberry. In a quick count there were fourteen sets of overalls and seven shirts and or hats that referenced John Deere. The average age was closer to the grave than just out of the womb and the average weight was “more gravy please.” Danny and I couldn’t have stuck out more if we’d walked in with a third eyeball, wearing an “I’m a vegan Democrat” T-shirt.
We selected the one open booth along the far wall. Once we sat down, the talking began to resume in a low hum. I, of course, could hear most of what they were saying. Most of the conversations were pleasant enough—simple curiosity about who we are, where we’re from, and if we had anything to do with what happened to the two dead people. I did, however, tune in to one particular voice that had the rhythmic cadence of a preacher and that started way too many sentences with thou shalt not and ended with sayeth the Lord. I didn’t like him. Not just because his tone oozed condemnation, but because he had just called Danny and me “an abomination of God’s will.”
Danny saw my grip on the menu tighten. “Leave it alone. I think we and God are pretty okay.” Danny gave me a wink over his menu.
“I guess hunting demons for the good side does score us a few heaven points, huh?”
“A few, I would think.”
“How many do you think got erased after the long weekend I spent with the red-headed yoga instructor in Tennessee? Because let me just say, some of those positions were just sinful …”
“I hate you,” Danny said, then looked back down to his menu. “I’m thinking good old fried chicken. What are you getting?”
I ran my finger down the menu. “Chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, with homemade applesauce,” I declared, laying down my menu just as a woman with a notepad in hand headed toward us.
“Well, you two are just about the sexiest things that have walked into this place in twenty years. My lord you two are gorgeous,” she added a “mmmMMMmm.” “If my Frankie was half as good lookin’ as you.” She poked Danny’s bicep with a fire engine-red-painted fingernail. “We’d have fifteen kids and I’d be walkin’ bowlegged.”
Danny blushed. I busted out in a snicker. The woman was in her late sixties, wearing just short of a dozen plastic bracelets around her left wrist, with the plumpness that comes from too much work, feeding too many kids, and no time to do anything else. Her cheeks were splashed with a rose-colored rouge, her hair was long but pulled back and twisted up at the back of her head, reminding me a lot of the waitress from that old show.
“My name is Flo. Any ‘kiss my grits’ jokes and I’ll charge ya double.” She looked at Danny, giving him an exaggerated wink. “But, sweetheart, you kiss anything of mine and your chow is free.” She laughed at Danny’s reaction. “Shy too.” She looked at me. “You got a real keeper here, sweetheart. Okay, what’re y’all havin’? I’ll tell ya right now that you need a little meat on your bones, so I ain’t allowin’ you to order some wimpy city salad.”
“I was thinking about good old country chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and applesauce.”
“Thata girl.” She scribbled on her notepad. “And how ’bout you, heartthrob. What can I get cookin’ for you?”
“I’ll do the fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, and green beans please, ma’am.”
“And a slice of cobbler for calling me ma’am,” she replied as she scribbled. “I’ll grab you a couple of waters. Want anything else? Lemonade? Soda?”
“I’d do an unsweet iced tea too, please,” Danny asked.
“Oh lord, I knew you were too good to be true. Unsweet iced tea?” Flo scoffed, raising a hand and her eyes to the ceiling. “Heaven help this young man see a better way.” She returned her eyes from the ceiling to Danny, a sly grin on her thin, lipsticked mouth. “I guess every man has a flaw.” She turned to me. “How about you, darlin’?”
“I’m good with water for now, thank you.”
“Alrighty, I’ll be back with y’all in a bit.” She ripped off the paper she’d been writing on, put it upside down on the table, then moved back to the kitchen counter and yelled our order through the service opening.
“She was nice,” Danny said, a little crack in his voice.
“If only Frankie hadn’t snatched her up before you got a chance,” I tsked. “I’m going to guess, she might be the only chance we have in here.” I glanced around. Most had resumed their normal conversations, except Reverend Assmunch, who was now standing and coming in our direction. I closed my eyes and began chanting, “I will not kick his ass before I get my chicken fried steak. I will not kick his ass before I get my chicken fried steak. I will not kick his ass before I get my chicken fried ste- Ouch!”
Danny kicked my shin underneath the table then greeted the man who was trying to loom over us despite his small-dick stature. “Hello, sir.” Danny rose slightly in the booth, reached out a hand in greeting.
The man looked at Danny’s hand and put both his hands in the small pockets of the vest of his circa Boss Hogg suit. Danny dropped his hand and dropped back down in his seat.
“I’m Mayor Cline. I am also the reverend at the local New Life–Assembly of God Church.”
“Of course you are,” I grumbled.
Mayor McDoubleDouche continued. “I wanted to let you know that this town, my town, don’t take kindly to your kind around here.”
Danny reached out and laid a restraining hand over my clenched fists.
“What exactly is my kind, Reverend-Mayor?” I asked.
“Troublemakers, sinners, and the like,” he blustered.
I shrugged, oh okay. So he did kind of have me there.
“I assure you, Mr. Mayor, we are not here to cause you or your town any trouble. We’re just here to enjoy the beauty of one of God’s many creations. The forest is quite glorious, don’t you think?” Danny asked, all innocent altar boy like.
I rolled my eyes.
The Mayor assessed Danny. “I do, son. I truly do. Being you understand the glory of God, I hope you understand why he would not appreciate any,” he cut his eyes at me, “sinning going on in God’s house.”
“You mean like dancing or rock music because it will lead to s-e-x?” I stage whispered. He likely wouldn’t get the Footloose reference, but I did and it amused me, which is really what it’s all about.
Danny closed his eyes briefly, probably praying I would shut my mouth. He did that a lot. It
never worked.
“Sister Linn told me you have the devil’s tongue,” the Reverend said.
“Devil’s tongue?” I stretched out my tongue, attempting to look at it. “Hmmm. My tongue has been called a lot of things, especially when I go dow-”
Danny jolted so hard the table bounced, our silverware jumped, and the saltshaker toppled. Danny quickly sat it upright. “I’m sorry, my knee …”
Flo came to Danny’s rescue. “Reverend, you go on now. Leave these young folk alone.” She wiggled her way in front of him to set our drinks on the table. She gave me a conspiratorial wink before straightening back up. “Your food will be right up.” She turned to the Reverend, taking him by the shoulders, spinning him halfway around, and starting him back to the front. “And you scooch on out of here. I’ll see you on Sunday.” She gave his back a little pat. “Don’t worry about the tab; this one’s on me.” Flo snatched up his hat as they passed his booth and handed it to him.
“Bless you, my child,” he answered, taking his hat and straightening it on his head.
She gave him a little wave as he headed for the door. He said a few good-byes to the patrons around him and left, but not before giving me a look as he crossed himself.
Flo waited for the bell over the door to stop clanging before she offered an apology. “I’m really sorry about the Reverend. He’s … well, a little drunk with the holy spirit. He simply doesn’t know when to check it at the church step, if ya know what I mean.”
“It’s okay,” Danny offered. “And you didn’t have to cover his bill just to get him away from us. He could have-”
Flo waved off his words. “That cheap buzzard doesn’t pay half the time he’s in here. He’s always got someone paying for his meal one way or another. Sometimes I think God sewed his wallet shut.” She laid a hand on my shoulder. “Plus, seeing you stand up to the man, it’s a small price.” Her smiled dropped. “But Darlin’, as much as I enjoyed the sight, you need to be careful. He has a lot of influence in this town and you don’t need that kind of trouble.”