15

The McDonald’s, Burger King and Wendy’s beacons click on as the yellow lines of the road begin to vibrate. The tired eyes of Pig and Mara, having searched the countryside for hours, fixate on the red taillights ahead. A soft blue screen in the back of a Dodge blooms into focus. A square of light turns into a band of soldiers running up a hill. A bomb explodes silently as they pass. The faces of the family, the license plate, the car melts into a ball of light then down to a speck then nothing but the yellow lines again, the monotonous rhythm of the road, soothing and irritating, front-facing, as the interior dials of the van sharpen and the world grows small and dark.

Billy squirms in his seat, hands duct-taped to the steering wheel, looks in the rearview to Pig splayed out, hooves against the window, head resting on a rolled-up pair of jeans.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he says sheepishly.

Pig sits up, squints trying to read the road signs, then looks over to Mara.

“We can let him poop his pants or we can cut him loose. I vote for number one.”

“So you vote for number two?”

He snorts.

“That’s the first joke you’ve made all trip.”

“I make jokes all the time. It’s just the first one you understood.”

“You see what I have to put up with?” Pats him on the shoulder then points to the exit. “Take this one.”

Billy lets out a sigh of relief as they pull into a gas station.

Two teenagers on the curb
stacks of bottled water
the glass doors slide
as a man in a sleeveless jacket
tosses his cellophane near the trash
whistles to a woman
who extends a middle finger
for all to see.
He lights his cigarette
the cherry burning
under the glossy sheen
of the vinyl banner
plastered to the window
of the Phillips 66

“I’m not taking him.” Mara picks at the duct tape. “And don’t eat him while you’re gone.”

Billy looks in the rearview. 

“You…eat people?”

Pig folds his arms

“Why’s everyone so down on eating people? She lops people’s heads off and you’re a serial killer. I eat a few people and it’s the end of the world.” He leans over. Looks at Billy’s hands. “I don’t have a knife.”

“I don’t have one either.”

He points to the mannequin as Mara rolls her eyes, opens her door in disgust, marches to the back, returns with her sword, slices, then sheaths her sword. Billy lets out a whimper as a severed pinky hangs off the steering wheel. 

“Nine out of ten,” Pig nods in approval, “that’s an A-minus.” Pulls him out of the car, throws him over his shoulder, walks behind the gas station, kicks open the men’s room door. A trucker is sitting on the toilet looking at a Hustler, jumps halfway off his seat as they lock eyes, Pig’s monstrous form backlit under the fluorescents.

“Hey,” Pig says nonchalantly then noticing the pack of cigarettes sticking out of his shirt pocket. “You smoke?” The man, frozen at first, hands him a cigarette and lighter. Pig leans his forearm against the frame of the door. “Been on the road with the old lady for hours.” Takes a drag. “Hates it when I smoke. So, how’s your night going?”

“Pretty…good.”

“My night is,“ blood drips down the front of his shirt from Billy’s severed pinky, “so so.” Offers the cigarette to the man who shakes his head. “Hustler huh?” The trucker hands it over as he flips through the pages, pulls out the centerfold, a woman in a fireman’s hat with a hose wrapped around her leg, the nozzle resting between her breasts. “Life sure is complicated. Know what I mean…”

“Pete”

“Named after St. Peter right?”

“It was my father’s name.”

“St. Peter. Guarding the gates of heaven.” Flips the page. “I’ve been to the gates of heaven and I’ve never met anyone named Pete.” Looks up from The Hustler. “Sounds crazy, right?” Pete nods. ”You know what else sounds crazy? A demon pig that can talk.” Billy squirms and he shakes him. “Quiet Billy,” then back to Pete. “There’re four gates. Four directions. Four gates. Why would you have one gate? Pretty inconvenient if you’re on the north side and the only way to get out was through the south, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

Pig turns the page to a woman in a cowboy hat, six-shooter in each hand standing over another woman wearing a headdress, fake blood smeared over her body half-covering her tribal tattoo. A paper-mache fire is blowing beside them. A rubber snake pushes its way through the empty eye sockets of a bleached cow skull as a southwestern acrylic moon hangs above, painted on a sheet of gauzy fabric some intern pushed Christmas lights through.

“Life sure is complicated.” He hands the magazine back as he sizes him up. “Pete, you seem like a guy that’s got a lot going on. Places to be, people to meet and all that. So let’s cut to the chase. I’m going to give you two options.” He leans in so he’s lit by the overhead light. “Option one is I eat your face. I’m going to eat the rest of you, but I’ll start with your face. How do you like that option Pete?” Pete vigorously shakes his head. “I didn’t think you’d like that one. That’s why there’s number two, which is, you get up, go back to your truck, start driving and in 10 years when you’re an old man, you can sit around and tell the story of the night you met a demon pig in the men’s room of a Phillips 66 and how you let him look at your Hustler and lived to tell the tale. How does that sound?” Pete pulls up his pants and runs out of the bathroom. Pig watches him go then sets Billy down on the seat. “All right Billy Boy. Time to make a tinkle.”

Billy holds his hand and winces.

“Are you going to watch me?”

“Not really my thing but I am going to stand outside and if I hear anything funny we’re going back to option one, ok?”

He walks out, leans against the red cement cinder blocks of the building.

A dumpster with a wood fence
dozens of street lights
a small median
the wet grass glowing green
curves around to the parking lot
of a Pizza Hut
and in the window
framed under an awning
a perforated vinyl wrap
of a pizza-shaped heart
meaty chunks submerged in cheese
as a woman’s hand pulls a slice away
the cheesy strings dripping over
her red nails
the same color as the awning
and the Pontiac
double-parked in the lot.

“What’s going to happen to me?” Billy asks unzipping his pants.

Pig watches as a family is seated in a booth across the street.

“I’m going to eat you.” The family examines their placement menus as the waitress twirls her hair and rattles off the specials. “Or Mara will cut your head off.”

“Will you at least kill me before you eat me?”

Pig watches the mother look through her purse. She pulls out a piece of candy and hands it to the little boy. The girl’s already crawled under the table. She fishes her out, plops her down, dangles a toy till she distractedly takes it, throws it at her brother.

“How many people have you killed Billy?”

“….Four.”

The husband leans over, says something that makes both the kids giggle.

“Four. I bet they asked for a lot of things toward the end. Did you ever give them those things?” Silence. Pig looks down the alley. Mara’s sitting in the passenger seat staring at her phone. “I’d tell you how many people I killed but honestly I can’t remember.”

“I don’t know what you are but…can’t you at least appreciate…I mean…you murder people. Can’t you see we’re not so…”

“We’re not so different? Really? Sure, we have one thing in common. You know what else has one thing in common? Everything. Literally everything has one thing in common.” He kicks a piece of gravel and it bounces across the asphalt, rolls and stops in the gutter. “Wanna know why we’re different Billy? For one, people like me. They may not love me. They may not let me babysit their kids, but they like me. They like me because I’m disgusting. Because I have this pig head on top of these rolls of fat. It makes them accept it. The things I do. And that makes them feel good because if there’s one thing they know, it’s that they’re not me. But you…” He snorts. “They despise you. They look at you and they're outraged. Four people. That’s incompetence in my line of work.” The waitress comes back with four waters. Slides them across the table. “People hate you Billy. They hate you because you don’t make any sense. You fooled them into thinking you were one of them. They’re mad at what you’ve done, but what really gets them is you made them wrong. They thought you were one way, and it turned out you were another, and suddenly, at least for a moment, everyone’s a killer. They look at their friends, their neighbors, that quiet guy across the street and think, do I know them? Do I really know them?” He takes a drag. “That’s why you’re the monster,” exhales a cloud into the night air, “and I’m just a demon.”

The waitress takes their order, walks back to the kitchen, pushes open the swinging door. The cook is fishing a pizza out of the oven, a sleek stainless steel rectangle, red and burning as the doors swings shut.

“How…did you become…like this?”

“You know who the Jade Emperor is?” Silence. Pig shakes his head. “The ruler of heaven and nobody’s ever heard of him. To make a long story short I slept with his wife. Not the smartest thing I’ve ever done but there it is. Still not sure if I slept with her or she slept with me. Know what I mean?” Takes another drag then tosses the cigarette on the ground. It rolls next to an empty bag of Funyuns. “After he found out, he turned me into this. Sent me back to earth, and here’s where I go from hating the man to respecting his attention to detail, because that in and of itself is pretty bad, being a pig demon, but in his heavenly wisdom he made me fall in love with a woman. We got married. Lived on a farm outside the city. Had a kid even. And then he made me eat them.”

The husband puts his arm around his wife. Gives her a little squeeze.

“I was always this way,” Billy says. “I didn’t want to be like this. Things that were supposed to feel bad felt…all my wiring…everything inside was backward. I didn’t want to be this way. I didn’t. It’s not my fault, but those people. They wouldn’t leave me alone. They couldn’t just accept I was different. They had to rub my face in it. They wouldn’t…”

“Here’s the thing Billy. It’s no accident I’m waiting outside a men’s restroom for a two-bit killer to take a shit and you didn’t end up with a man-eating pig and a homicidal little girl on accident either. There’s a reason we’re here and they’re there.” A pizza is set in front of the family as the hands reach in and pull it apart. “We couldn’t cut it. Simple as that. We tried to live normal and it didn’t work, and so we took what was left.” Pig looks up at the moon, clouds hugging it on either side. “I’m not evil because I want to be. I’m evil because I’m lazy, which is a little better if you think about it one way, and a little worse if you think about another. I’m sure you had a shitty life. I had a shitty life. Maybe those people in there had a shitty life too. But I’m past being able to feel sorry, for you, for me, for anyone. It’s too much work. You had a shitty life and you’re going to have a shitty death and that’s all there is to it.”

Billy flushes, pulls up his pants and walks out.

“What was her name?”

“Who?”

“Your wife?”

Pig frowns.

“Ji.” He pauses. “I haven’t said her name in…” Stares at the pavement then turns and walks toward the van. ”C’mon I’ll use my magic powers to put your finger back on.”

“Really?” he says excitedly following behind.

“I’m just fucking with you Billy.” He pats him on the back. “I’m a demon. I just destroy stuff.”

Mara’s in the front seat eating Twizzlers as Pig slides in back and Billy turns the key, the starter cranking but not turning over. The third time it catches, the hum of the engine vibrates the front seat, as Billy, wincing in pain, reverses and smacks into the car behind them. Mara’s Twizzlers go flying. Billy is thrown into the steering wheel as Pig turns to look through the two rectangular windows to see,

a man in white silk samurai armor
bright red skin and bulging eyes
unbuckles his seatbelt and steps
onto the wet pavement
a green snake in one hand
a trident in the other
he stands with all his glory
looking down at the dent
on the driver’s side
of his Cadillac

“That’s one of the heavenly kings!” Pig whispers.

“What’s he doing driving a car?”

Mara moves further down in her seat.

“I don’t know! Do you want me to get out and ask?”

“What should we do?”

“I don’t know! What’s he doing?”

Billy checks the rearview.

“He’s looking at his car. Now he’s on his phone. He’s calling someone. Oh god. He’s walking over. What should I say?”

Pig transforms into a human as Kōmoku-ten, Heavenly King of the West, bends over, his bright red face framed in the window of the van.

“I hope you have insurance.”

“I do,” Billy says reaching across Mara into his glove box. Kōmoku-ten inspects it then hands it back.  

“The cops should be here soon,” he says, then slightly annoyed, “Did you not see me?”

“I just hurt my hand a little,” he says holding up his missing finger.

“Oh my god! How did you…”

“No, this happened before.”

“You don’t have a finger,” looks at the steering wheel covered in duct tape, a pinky hanging off, then over to Mara who’s stuffing a Twizzler in her mouth. “What’s going on here?”

“If you’ll let me explain.” Billy opens the door and steps outside. “You see, I…” He takes off running. Kōmoku-ten watches him go for a while then sails his trident through the air piercing Billy’s chest and sticking him through the side of a PT Cruiser. He turns back, eyes glowing red. “You two mind getting out of the van. Or are you going to make this difficult?”

Pig morphs back into his monstrous pig-headed self. Smiles.

“Oh, we’re going to make this difficult.”

He smashes through the side of the van ripping off the door, landing on top of Kōmoku-ten, as Mara runs to the back, throws the doors open only to be knocked over as Pig comes careening through the air as they both go sprawling across the lot.

Kōmoku-ten outstretches his fingers and his trident pulls out of Billy’s limp body and flies back to his hand.

Mara squares off as Pig scrambles to his feet.

“Can you do that?” Pig asks. She shakes her head. “Damn. Neither can I.”

She puts her hands on her hips.

“You know how women complain that dresses don’t have pockets?”

Pig looks at her in disbelief.

“You’re really going to start complaining about the patriarchy now?”

She reaches into her dress pocket, pulls out Billy’s gun, cocks it and shoots Kōmoku-ten five times in the face. The Heavenly King reels over, drops his trident as she makes a run for the van, unsheathes her sword then throws the rake over to Pig. The Heavenly King scrambles to his feet, his face badly bruised, one eye swollen. Pig raises his nine pronged rake.

“I can’t believe you shot me!” Kōmoku-ten touches his eye.

“So it’s fine to stab people with a magic trident but you can’t shoot them in the face?” Mara says cautiously moving toward him.

“It’s a heavenly trident! I’m a heavenly being!”

“I’m sure you’ll feel better once I cut your heavenly head off.”

She raises her sword.

The snake curled around his arm opens its mouth. A red jewel the size of a turnip is clutched in its fangs, glows a fiery red as a beam burns a basketball-sized hole through Billy’s van. Mara dive-rolls over to Pig who scoops her up with his rake, tosses her, sending her flying. She hacks the serpent’s neck as its head flops to the cement. The red jewel slides across the lot as The Heavenly King of the West clocks her in the head with the butt of his trident sending her sailing through the gas station window smashing into the ice cream cooler, the cartons of Blue Bunny spilling onto the floor.

Pig scraps his rake across the ground sending a shower of sparks, tries to sweep his legs, but Kōmoku-ten dodges, shoves his trident between the prongs, both weapons embedded into the asphalt. Pig lunges, belly flops on top as they roll around smacking into gas pumps, knocking them over. Some customers flee to the Pizza Hut parking lot. Others stay holding their phones as the fuel bubbles from the earth.

Mara picks herself up, grabs two bags of Feugo Taki’s, rips them open then runs outside. The Heavenly King is on top of Pig, his hands around his neck as she comes up from behind and smears the red powder all over his face. He screams, staggering back, rubbing his eyes, pushing the chili powder deeper into his skin, falls to his knees, then starts glowing, pulsing, rises, high in the air, a bright light emanating from his forehead that opens into a golden eye. A thousand concentric circles of light course over his body as his trident shoots back to his hand, the tongs glowing as he points it down to Mara and Pig below.

A red beam pierces the Heavenly King’s armor sending him crashing into the gas pump that explodes in a giant fireball. Mara turns to see one of the teenage boys holding the red crystal.

“Do you know how to drive?” she asks grabbing his arm.

A pimply face in a black Nine Inch Nails t-shirt, skinny legs in a pair of carefully ripped jeans. He flips his hair to the side and crosses his arms.

“Kind of.”

She pulls him into the Cadillac as another gas pump explodes. Pig pulls his rake out of the pavement as Mara hops in the passenger seat. He dives in the back as the rest of the pumps catch fire. They peel out as a great fireball erupts in a mushroom cloud that leaves a black smear across the sky.

“We sure are good at that,” Pig says turning back.

“At what?”

“Blowing up gas stations.” He wiggles his body against the white leather seats as they barrel down a frontage road. “What’s your name kid?”.

“Bill.”

“You can’t be Bill. The last guy was Bill.”

“But…that’s my name.”

“What’s your real name. The one you’ve always wanted to be called.”

“How bout Ricky? Like from Ricky Oh?” His phone buzzes in his pocket and he looks at his screen. “You think I’ll be back by 11:00 cause that’s my curfew.” 

Mara and Pig look at each other.

“We shouldn’t drag him into this,” she says leaning over the backseat.

Pig shrugs.

“What was that back there?” Ricky says texting, occasionally checking the road.

“That was the Heavenly King of the West and right now he’s probably picking himself out of the ashes and figuring out what happened.”

“No, I meant. What was that red jewel thing?”

“I don’t know,” Mara says. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Does it represent…love?”

“It’s just a red jewel,” Mara says flatly. “It doesn’t represent anything.”

Ricky nods taking this in.

“So…are you guys on a quest to find all the jewels? Like, is there eight scattered across the world and they’re all hidden in super-secret locations, and you need to get them by tomorrow or, like, the whole world will be destroyed?”

Pig’s eyes light up.

“Ricky, that sounds way better than what we’re doing. Why don’t we collect all the jewels Mara?”

“Stop it. This is serious. Can you be serious for one god damn second?”

“Uh, guys,” Ricky says checking the rearview.

Pig and Mara both look back as The Heavenly King of the West shoots overhead and lands in the middle of the road, trident in hand. The car slows to a crawl then stops, the headlights lighting up his red face, the silk brocaded samurai armor and the yellow ‘Click it or ticket’ sign with a picture of a seatbelt behind him.

Pig and Mara step out. Slow-walk to where he’s standing. 

“Let’s try this again,” he says. “I’m not here to kill you. I’m here to take you back to heaven, so you,” he turns to Mara, “can go back to your father,” and you,” he turns to Pig, “can go back to DOING YOUR JOB.” He puts both hands on his trident. “C’mon. You know me. I’m the Heavenly King of the West. I’m not here to kill you.”

Pig touches his lopped ear.

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Just calm down a second. This whole thing is a big misunderstanding. The Jade Emperor told me to bring you back to heaven and that’s what I’m doing. That’s it. I don’t have a problem with you guys. I’m just doing my job.”

“Are you giving me the, ‘I’m just doing my job’ speech?”

“I’m giving you the ‘listen to reason before I have to smash your face speech’.”

Pig laughs.

“I just gave that speech!”

“So, what’s it going to be? Leave the kid and…”

A red beam shoots out and zaps Kōmoku-ten in the face, who flies back across the asphalt, his eyes burnt black as he screams and writhes around. Ricky is holding the jewel, a giant hole blown through the windshield. Pig and Mara run back to the car, hop in and take off, swerving around The Heavenly King’s body.

“I can’t believe you got him again!” Pig says looking behind them. “I’ve been doing this a long time and that never happens. You get them once, but it NEVER works a second time.”

“I totally blasted that demon monster!” Ricky says.

“You totally got him,” Pig says laughing, “though…he’s not a demon.”

“No?” Ricky changes lanes.

“No. He’s more like a protector god that watches over people and helps them reach enlightenment.” 

“Oh.” Ricky mulls this over. “That sounds like a good thing.”

“It is a good thing Ricky. We’re actually the demons. But still, really glad you got him in the face.”

“Oh.” Ricky looks at Pig then over to Mara who digs in her pocket, pulls out a Twizzler, tilts it in offering, which Ricky accepts and starts chewing. “So…you’re the bad guys.”

“We’re not bad,” Mara says. “We just don’t fit in with how things work.”

“You’re rebels,” Ricky says narrowing his eyes, then more quizzically, “so… I just shot god in the face with…my love crystal?”

“Not a love crystal Ricky,” Pig says. “Not a love crystal, and he’s a god, but there are lots of them. It’s complicated. God stuff is complicated. If I explained the whole thing your head would explode and I don’t mean your view of the world would change forever.”

Ricky nods knowingly.

“He’s lying. It’s not that complicated and it won’t make your head explode.” She taps him on the shoulder. “Take this exit.” He swerves onto the off-ramp. “See that gas station up ahead, the other side of the Burger King. Yeah, that looks nice and empty.”

They pull in the lot, park, turn the headlights off, sit there quietly listening as Mara peers out the window looking up to the sky and down the street. She settles down, puts another Twizzler in her mouth and relaxes, looks through the windshield to the words ‘Burger King’ lit up and beaming, smashed in-between a cartoon bun.

Shakes her head.

“That’s the problem right there.”

“You don’t like whoppers?”

“No, not that.”

“I think there’s an Emperor’s Express?”

“No. The Heavenly Kings. The Jade Emperor.”

“Who’s The Jade Emperor?”

Mara waves him off.

“It doesn’t matter.” Turns in her seat to face Ricky. “What would you say if you were in a country ruled by kings?”

“What would I say?” Ricky scratches the few hairs on his chin.

“Monarchies are a joke. Props. Worse than that. Tabloid headlines. Celebrities. They don’t have power because the truth is we’ve moved on. We like our kings in movies or selling burgers, but put one in charge of the tiniest bit of our lives and,” she smacks her Twizzler down on her hand. “The French had it right. They knew what to do with kings. Everyone knows what to do down here, but turn our eyes to heaven and suddenly we’re all fine with a little authoritarianism.” She shakes her Twizzler. “These are patriarchal hierarchies Ricky. Why isn’t there one heavenly democracy where things are ruled by the people? Why is the afterlife always a dictatorship?”

Ricky chews on his Twizzler.

“Are you asking me or are you going to…”

“I’ll tell you why, because heaven was built a long time ago. They didn’t know what they were doing. The humans had kings so they thought, ‘Why not have kings too.’ I know it’s not supposed to work that way, but that’s how it happened. They’re making it up as they go along just like you, just like me, just like that fat idiot in the back.”

Pig rolls his eyes.

“So what’re you going to do about it? What’s your plan? You gonna run for the first female president of Heaven?”

“No,” Mara says ripping a piece of licorice with her teeth. “My plan is to sneak into heaven, find the Jade Emperor and cut off his head.”