Devil Said Bang (Sandman Slim 4)

“Are my eyes still the mirrors of my soul?”

“Sadly, yes. Having skin must be nice. I love what you’ve done with the place.”

“God’s little acre.”

“Of shit.”

She touches my nose with the tip of her index finger.

“Don’t be mean, James.”

She loops her arm in mine and we walk through the endless garbage dump.

“This isn’t the afterlife. This isn’t anywhere. You can leave anytime you like.”

“Is that how it works? How kind of you to explain.”

“If I’m inconveniencing you, I can go.”

She tightens her arm around mine.

“Please, James. Play nice. You don’t know what it’s like here. We all died once and now we have to do it again because of that little bitch. It looks like it hurts even more the second time around.”

“I’m not killing the Imp until I talk to her, so don’t get your pigtails knotted up if I don’t go in like Bruce Lee.”

We turn out of the plaza and head downtown.

“She’s a monster. She kills us. Hurt her for me, James.”

“You know that back in the world I’m lying in a pool of my own blood. I’d really like to get things rolling before I muss my hair.”

“Cool your jets, jet boy. We’re almost there.”

A mob is following us. I must be the most interesting thing that’s happened here since the girl. How sad for these dopes. How terrified do you have to be to put up with this dismal trailer-park universe? If I had time, I’d make every one of these assholes a deal. Let go. Come to Hell. You can camp out in Eleusis, the town God built for righteous pre-Jesus pagans. It’s still the nicest place down south. Crap parking but no torture and other reasonable souls to pal around with. I’d do it just to clear out this shit sink. But none of them would do it. They’re too chewed up by the demons in their own brains. I want to blame God for these losers. For not making Himself known and available to humans, but I wonder if it would make a difference to this crowd. There’s something willful about this kind of self-punishment. Without realizing it, they’ve made their own second-rate sitcom Hell.

Cherry says, “I hear you killed Mason.”

“Nope. He killed himself.”>“Right. Like you never left me holding the bag. Running wild up here and down below. Getting us backed into corners so that I had to figure a way out.”

I puff the Malediction and blow smoke in his direction but the wind carries it away.

“All that’s what’s changed. Being on my own Downtown, I learned to think more before I break things. I did some bad things as Lucifer but not nearly as many as I could have. I saved the place from imploding and taking a whole lot of souls down with it.”

Saint James smirks. He isn’t buying it.

“I saw you playing cowboy with Great-Granddad. How is Wild Bill?”

“You were there spying on me?”

“Checking up on you. Believe it or not, I was concerned.”

“I bet you were. You found out it’s lonely out here on your own and you want back in my head. That’s why you’re here. Forget it. I’m done with the Three Faces of Eve routine. I don’t need you.”

He looks me over. Another shirt ruined. I need a tailor or at least a clothes fairy. I wonder if Manimal Mike can make one for me.

“Are you going to wear that armor forever?” says Saint James. “You’ll never be more than half a person without me.”

“I read books when I was Downtown. I learned about the Greeks. ‘Loss is nothing but change and change is Nature’s delight.’ Marcus Aurelius said that.”