Circuit Of Heaven (31 page)

“Don’t know. He left about an hour ago. He said to wake you up if you weren’t out of bed by five-thirty, said you had dinner at your folks’ tonight.”

“Another virtual meal that can’t be beat.” The only sounds for a while were Nemo eating. Lawrence cooked a great pan of beans, fiery hot with dried chiles and tons of garlic. Nemo was nearing the bottom of the saucepan. He scraped the sauce down from the sides. “Jonathan, I’m sorry. Did you want any beans?”

Jonathan laughed. “No thanks. I’ll eat at home. I think I’ll stick around and watch you eat the pan and spoon, though.”

“Just for that, I won’t.” Nemo set the empty pan on the table. “How’d Lawrence know about dinner at my parents‘?” he asked himself more than Jonathan, closing his eyes and massaging his temples. “Hell with it. How does anybody know anything?” He pulled on his boots and tied the left, held the laces to the right in his hands, thinking. “Jonathan, there’s some very weird shit going on. What do you know about the underground?”

Jonathan shrugged. “They want to cut off the real world from the Bin. They believe the end of days won’t come until they do. They tried to recruit me a few times, but I wasn’t interested.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re wrong,” he said simply.

Nemo smiled to himself. “Glad to hear it. Peter sicced this nut Gabriel on me.” Jonathan nodded to indicate he knew who Gabriel was. “He wants me—get this—to infect the Bin with a virus. I told him to take a hike, but I’m afraid Justine is mixed up in it somehow. I was going into the Bin—to be with her. It was all decided. Then,
boom
, I run into Gabriel, he tells me she’s ‘not what she seems,’ and the next thing I know, she gets cold feet and skips out on me, no explanation at all. I’m afraid they have some kind of hold over her.”

“You’ve decided to go into the Bin?” Jonathan asked quietly.

Nemo winced. He’d been so much in his own head, he’d forgotten Jonathan didn’t know he was going in.

“Sorry for blurting it out like that.”

“That’s okay. I’m just sad to hear it.”

“You can visit, you know.” Nemo winked, trying to lighten things up. “We can drink some good wine.”

But there was no lightening him up now. “I’ll miss you,” he said, “but that’s not what I mean.”

“I know, I know.” Nemo sighed. “You’re concerned about my immortal soul.”

“Yes.”

Nemo tied his right boot and planted his feet on the floor. “I don’t know if this’ll make sense to you, but before I met Justine, I didn’t know I
had
a soul, immortal or otherwise. Now I do. My life’s with
her
, Jonathan. I know it, like I’ve never known anything else.”

Jonathan started to say something but decided against it.

“Go ahead,” Nemo said. “I know you’re dying to set me straight. Explain to me why God doesn’t want me to be with Justine.”

Jonathan smiled. “When I first went out witnessing—I was ten—Dad told me to watch people’s eyes so I’d know when to stop. He said you could see when they quit listening, said that’s when you thanked them for their time and shut up.”

“But you think I’m wrong to go in, no matter what.”

“Yes.”

“I’m curious,” Nemo said. “Given how you feel, why
aren’t
you in the underground? I mean, if what you say is true, don’t you owe it to the rest of us poor ignorant slobs to close the road to Hell as fast as you can?”

Jonathan held up the Bible and quoted without looking at it: “Revelations 21:11—‘He that is unjust, still.’”

Nemo rolled his eyes. “I hate it when you do that. What am I supposed to do? Quote James Mason? Do you really think that little book has all the answers?”

“No. I think
God
has all the answers. But this is
His
Little Book.”

“But subject to many interpretations.”

“Obviously.”

“But
your
interpretation is right.”

“I have
faith
in my interpretation.”

“And I have faith in Justine.”

“I understand that.”

And he did. That was the hell of it. He understood perfectly. He just knew you were wrong. “So
why
does God want the unjust to remain unjust? Or are you just not supposed to ask?”

“So they may choose.”

“Calvin didn’t think so.”

“Calvin was wrong.”

Nemo smiled at his friend. He was going to miss their arguments. “At least we agree on that point. You want some coffee?”

“Sure.” Jonathan pointed at the counter. “I think Lawrence left some in the thermos.”

Nemo got up and poured them coffee. He set out the honey because he knew Jonathan liked his sweet. The coffee was only slightly hot, but it was definitely Lawrence’s coffee. Nemo swirled it around in his cup to keep all the sludge from settling to the bottom. “So do you have any idea what Gabriel could’ve meant about Justine?”

Jonathan thought about it as he spooned honey into his coffee. “Maybe she was supposed to carry the virus and something went wrong.”

Nemo considered this a moment. “If she did, I don’t think she knew it. Besides, why would Gabriel tip me off? You don’t tell the new volunteer about your previous failures.”

“Did you ask her about the underground?”

“She didn’t know anything about it. I don’t think she’s even heard of it. But Gabriel certainly knew about her.”

“Did he actually use her name?”

Nemo tried to remember. “I don’t think so. You figure he’s just trying to fuck with me? Keep me fired up against the evil Bin?”

Jonathan shrugged. “It’d be like him. Justine’s problems might not have anything to do with Gabriel. Maybe she regrets going in—realizes she’s made a bad choice.”

“Or maybe she feels like I’m the bad choice.”

“I don’t think so. From what I saw, she’s crazy about you.”

“You didn’t see her last night. She’d hardly look at me. She’s been upset about some weird dreams, and her memory’s all screwed up, but she confided in me about those things. This was something she didn’t want me to know about, something that scared the hell out of her. I don’t know what. Guess I’ll find out this evening.” He took a swallow of coffee, savoring its oily bitterness. They’d be running out soon. It might be months before they came across another can of coffee. In the Bin he could have coffee whenever he wanted. Even the thought made him feel vaguely guilty.

“Speaking of bad choices, I saw Rosalind last night.”

For once, Jonathan looked rattled. “You went to see her?”

“I was drunk. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“How is she?”

“Terrible. She’s living with her mom. She’s more miserable than she was out here, if that’s possible, tormenting her mother, guilty and pissed off about her father. Pretty dreadful way to spend eternity, if you ask me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah. Me too. I liked her mom. If I were her, I think I would’ve thrown Rosalind out a long time ago. She must’ve really loved Peter to stay with him long as she did. Did you know her?”

“No. My dad said she was very pretty.”

Nemo drank off the lukewarm coffee, leaving the quarter inch of sediment in the bottom of the cup. “Do you think, if I go in, I’ll end up like that—bitter and unhappy forever?”

“Not bitter. You’ve never been as bitter as you like to think you are.” Jonathan gave up on the coffee and took a spoonful of honey into his mouth.

“I didn’t think it showed.” Nemo picked up the Bible from the table. It was small, maybe five by six. The binding was cracked and frayed, the pages as thin as cigarette papers. “Do you ever think about that little ride we took to the crematorium?”

Jonathan laid his spoon on the table. His long lashes fluttered. “All the time.”

Nemo hefted the Bible in his hand. “Is there an answer in God’s Little Book for what we saw out there?”

Jonathan nodded. “Revelations 21:8.”

“Which is?”

“‘The lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death.’”

Nemo set the Bible back on the table and gave it a gentle push. “I can’t buy it, not all those people.”

“I didn’t think you could,” Jonathan said. You could see in his eyes that he bought it completely, and the thought filled him with remorse.

Nemo stood up. “I need to get going. You want to walk with me as far as your house?”

“Sure.” Jonathan stuck his Bible in his back pocket as he got up from the table. “Are you going in for good tonight?”

Nemo took his jacket from the peg by the door and slipped it on. “I don’t know if Justine will even show tonight. She told me to wait. She didn’t say how long. Don’t worry. I won’t go in without saying good-bye.”

AS
THEY
WALKED
THROUGH
THE
HIGH
GRASS
,
LIZARDS
SCURried out of the way, and grasshoppers arced through the air, chest high. A hawk swooped down at the end of the block and came up with a squirrel, hanging limp, already dead, its neck broken.

“Do you know what rock I could find Gabriel under?” Nemo asked.

“Afraid not. I don’t think he has his own place. He makes the rounds, stays with his followers.”

“Keeping the troops stirred up?”

“Something like that. Peter might know where he is.”

A flock of crows flew over their heads, headed toward the end of the block, calling back and forth to each other, probably looking to steal the squirrel from the hawk. “Do you know if these guys are for real, or is this virus thing just some wacko’s fantasy?”

“From what I know of Gabriel, it’s very real. Rumor has it that Gabriel’s dad was some kind of computer whiz and taught Gabriel everything he knew.”

The crows were making a terrible racket now, trying to spook the hawk. “Would he hurt Justine—if it would get him what he wanted?”

“I’m afraid so. If she’s in the Bin, she’s his enemy in a holy war. He wouldn’t think twice about it.”

“I thought Christians were supposed to love their enemies.”

“They are, but Gabriel’s not serving Christ. He’s serving Satan.”

Nemo recalled Gabriel’s arrogant tone. “Or himself.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I’ll have to think about that one.”

They’d reached Jonathan’s. Jonathan mounted the steps, and Nemo stopped at Peter’s door, gesturing toward it with a toss of his head. “Guess I’ll talk to him before I go.”

“You want me to rouse him for you?”

“No, I’ll do it.” Nemo hesitated. “Jonathan, I was wondering—if I do go in,
will
you come visit?”

“Of course.”

Nemo laughed and shook his head. “
Of course
, he says. Now, why didn’t I know that?”

Jonathan smiled and went inside, leaving Nemo staring at Peter’s door. He didn’t really want to talk to the crazy old guy. He knew if he did, he’d tell him about Rosalind, and he didn’t want to have to deal with that. But he did want to see Gabriel. They had unfinished business.

Nemo knocked, and heard Peter scuffling around inside. The curtains on the window shifted, and Nemo pretended not to notice as he pounded on the door with the side of his fist, his blows accented with the faint sounds of cracking wood. Finally, a bolt slid back, and the door opened a few inches, just wide enough for Peter’s eyes. “I’m looking for Gabriel,” Nemo said into the crack.

“I’ll tell him you want to see him,” Peter said, and started to close the door, but Nemo stopped it with the side of his foot and leaned against the door.

“Let me in, Peter.”

“I can’t. Please go away.”

Nemo gave the door a shove, and Peter stumbled back ward into the room. Nemo walked in, closing the door behind him. Everything was pretty much as it was, except it smelled even worse, and two more days were crossed off the calender. This Friday had a circle around it. “I want to see him now, Peter. Where is he?”

Peter had backed up against the wall, his hands clutched at his chest. “I don’t know where he is.”

“Then how were you going to give him a message?” Nemo stepped closer, and Peter seemed to shrink into the wallpaper.

“I’ll see him tonight. There’s a meeting.”

“Where?”

“I can’t tell you that,” he whined. “He won’t be there yet anyway. He told me not to talk to you anymore, that he would handle everything.”

“Tell him I broke in and threatened you.” Nemo let that sink in for a moment, bent over and got in Peter’s face. “I want you to give Gabriel a message for me: Leave Justine alone, or I’ll kill him. You got that?”

Peter nodded desperately, his eyes wide with fear.

Nemo straightened up and hesitated. He should just leave. He didn’t have to tell this pitiful old man anything. But he did. “I saw your daughter last night.”

Peter’s eyes darted away. “I have no daughter.”

“Yes, you do. I spoke with her. She’s living with her mother, your wife. Don’t you want to know how she’s doing?”

Peter shook his head, speaking to the floor. “I have no wife.”

“Her name’s Linda. You and she had a child. Her name’s Rosalind. It’s called a family, Peter. They loved you once; you loved them.”

Peter clamped his hands over his ears. “No! I have no family!” he wailed.

Nemo seized Peter’s wrists, pulled his hands away from his ears, and slammed his arms against the wall. “Yes, you do!” he shouted in Peter’s face. “You drove them away so you could hole up here with your tiny little God. You think if Gabriel’s great scheme works, you won’t have to think about them anymore, but you will, Peter. You’ll
never
forget them, no matter how hard you try, no matter what your God says. What kind of God asks you to throw away your family?”

“Leave me alone,” Peter whimpered, cowering as if Nemo meant to strike him.

Nemo released him, and Peter slid to the floor. He felt as if he’d just beaten the old man senseless. “I’m sorry, Peter.”

Nemo wished he could find the right words to spring Peter from this jail he’d made for himself, but there was nothing more to say, and he’d said too much already. He turned around and walked out, leaving Peter slumped against the wall, staring into space, his lips moving silently in prayer.

NEMO
GOT
TO
HIS
PARENTS‘ A
LITTLE
EARLY
.
THE
SMELL
OF pot roast filled the air around the house, blotting out even the scent of cherry blossoms. He let himself in through the front door, and found his mom in the kitchen, hard at work with a potato masher.