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"Specs?" "Yah, Roman?" Specs looked up from his crossword, where he was puzzling over an eight-letter word for Final Work, (starts with an 'e' ends in 'o-n'). "Get the big bag out of the trunk," his partner replied, looking out the window at the old man standing in the middle of the lot. "Something's about to happen." "Something already has," the huge short-order cook said, sliding a slice of pie to each of them (apple for Roman, cherry for Specs). Roman looked down at the pie (which they hadn't ordered), then up (and up) at the cook. "How do you mean?" "This has all happened before," intoned Old Man Jenkins, his eyes alight with righteous fire, wind pulling at his long silver hair until it looked like campfire flames. "This has all happened before," muttered Fat Mac, heading back to the kitchen. "It'll all happen again. Eat your pie." "Specs?" "Yah, Roman?" Specs looked up from his crossword, where he was puzzling over an eight-letter word for Final Work, (second letter, 's'). "Get the big bag out of the trunk," his partner replied, watching the big man walk away. "Something's happening." Hekate watched the while-eyed old man as he strode toward her across the lot. "This isn't about you," she growled, "why do you always have to shove in and make it about you?" "It is always Mine," said Jenkins. "You're legacy is witches and necrophilia -- I looked upon the world and saw that it was good." "You're insane," she spat on the pavement; crawling sputum blacker than the asphalt. "This is a Change. This is something New. You don't --" "This has all happened before," screamed Old Man Jenkins, his eyes bulging and wild, wind whipping his stringy white combover into his face. "It was only Flood -- I was too forgiving." "This isn't right," Leilani said, sliding the order back across the windowsill to Fat Mac. "Sorry." "I know," he said, not looking up. "Sometimes we don't get to choose." "And man came up out of the dust of the ground, and the breath in his nostrils was the breath of life; and man became a living soul." "What are you talking about?" Roman scanned the menu, trying to decide what to order. Specs lifted up the Cross Words book. "It's the clue for twenty-three down. Seven letters, starts with 'g'." "God..." "What?" And there was a truck stop. A Truckers Paradise. Jutting from the ground were many stone trees, shining a light like Many Suns; travellers stopped for food, plucking it from shelves like fruit. And in the center of this paradise there were two trees -- the tree of unlife, and tree of power, fed with good and evil. "This isn't right," Roman said, looking at the plates the young girl ('Leilani' on the nametag) had just brought to them. "Sorry." "I know," she said, looking at the old man outside in the center of the lot. "But sometimes we don't get to choose." "This has all happened before," muttered Specs, squinting at the crosswords. "What?" Roman wasn't really listening. "I've seen these clues before," Specs frowned. "Just dunno where." "I have delivered these portents before," Jenkins explained, sitting at one of the tables in Suzies, his hands folded in front of him. "They do not recognize them." "That's no surprise," Hecate frowned. "Why didn't we meet in the diner?" "They do not have what I need."' Perses frowned. "But --" "I know." "This isn't right," Libby scolded, standing next to Sam. She glared at Jenkins. "Everyone has to have their say." "I Am not held to that." "You are in this country, mister," Sam scowled. "You know where we Bound our Trust -- it's on the cash, and we all know what kind of Power that has." "None would dare oppose --" “Unknown Entity! You are hereby ordered by the Federal Paranormal Regulations Agency to cease and desist your unauthorized habitation of that human body under the laws set forth and maintained by --" Jenkins eyes flashed, and Specs and Roman were gone. "Here's your pie, gents," Cherise's smile flashed, then faded. Specs and Roman were gone. "This has all happened before," Fat Mac said. "It just seems like it," Womack said, counting down the register without looking up. "No," Mac shook his head, neck fat creasing and rolling. "It doesn't." "This isn't right," Leilani said. Jenkins turned to her, his face gone kind, if crazy. ""This has all happened before," he whispered over the wind, his eyes glowing with kindness and love. "No it hasn't," she crossed her arms -- hesitant, but decisive. "Not like this." Jenkins eyes flashed. And there was a garden. Out of the ground grew every tree that is pleasant to the sight, and good for food; the tree of life also in the midst of the garden, and the tree of knowledge of good and evil. "We don't get to choose," Fat Mac said, arms folded, standing behind Leilani. "Not me, or her," his chin jutted toward Hekate. "It's not up to us." "It is Mine to decide!" Jenkins whined. "This has all HAPpened before!" "Specs?" "Yah, Roman?" Specs looked up from his crossword, where he was puzzling over an eight-letter word for Final Work, (middle two letters, 'h-a'). "Get the big bag out of the trunk," his partner replied, watching the girl in the lot. "Something's happening." "This is the end." Jenkins crowed. "I start over." "I --" Leilani looked back at Fat Mac, who nodded, once; she turned back to Jenkins. "I... No. That isn't right." "Specs?" "Yah, Roman?" Specs looked up from his crossword, where he was puzzling over an eight-letter word for Final Work, (third letter 'c', sixth letter 't'). "Get the big bag out of the trunk," his partner replied, watching the girl in the lot. "We've got to help her." "You already have," Fat Mac said. "This has all happened before," intoned Old Man Jenkins, his eyes alight with righteous fire, wind pulling at his long silver hair until it looked like campfire flames. "No," Leilani took his hand. "It will all happen again." "You are *my* Host!" he wailed. "It's our turn." “Unknown Entity! You are hereby ordered by the Federal Paranormal Regulations Agency to cease and desist your unauthorized habitation of that human body under the laws set forth and maintained by --" Jenkins eyes flashed, and he was gone. There was a Paradise, pleasant to the Sight. Out of the ground grew stone trees, dangling with strange food; there was a tree of knowledge in the midst of the paradise, and the tree of love. Man came to that dusty land -- living souls -- the breath in their nostrils was the breath of life and death; good and evil; choice. |
