The Adventures of Dammit In the Real World--part 1

The Adventures of Dammit In the Real World--part 1

Not the most pleasant way to wake up...

But then...

A person could deal with the sound of their own child crying coming from the next room with greater ease than if it were, say, the sound of gunshots riddling the outer walls of their house. Which had happened on many more occasions than the man, who was currently sprawled across a large bed, liked to think about. That's why he had invested in the damn bullet-proof glass and other material that now covered his home.

His figure rolled onto its side and peered sleepily at the door that joined this room with the baby's. The crying had stopped and so the rational part of his brain told him that his wife had tended to the kid, and that he should just roll over and go back to sleep. The dream had been so lovely...full of warm breezes and nice smells...

Unfortunately, the worried dad portion of his brain had much more say than the rational, so he found himself hauling his body out of the warm bed and padding over to the other room. A hand ran its fingers through tangled, dark brown hair as he yawned and approached the crib, next to which a tiny bundle was gurgling contentedly in its mothers arms. The baby peered out at him and smiled toothless smile, her bright baby blue eyes struggling against sleep. The woman gazed lovingly down at the child and then her gaze lifted to meet that of her rather disheveled looking husband.

"I got this, but thanks for getting up," she whispered happily as the little girl waved a tiny fist out towards her dad.

"No problem," he mumbled and yawned again, his arms stretching over his head. "What time is it?"

"'Bout four-thirty. Go back to bed, Steve," she suggested quietly as the baby dozed lightly in her hold. He gave her an appreciative look and then ambled off towards the bed again. The setting moon cast silver shadows through the blinds on the windows which threw pale streaks of light across the sheets as he threw his body down into the welcome warmth of the bed.

Steve sighed and stared at the ceiling. One furking month. In that short span of time his life had completely changed, and so had the whole damned world for that matter. After Dammit had announced Its return to active duty in the world, both Helen and his involvement in convincing Dammit, or rather Maggie as she had decided to be called now, to do so became public knowledge. There were countless perks that came with that; countless grateful people who had showered them with gifts and thanks, but there were equal amounts of malice aimed at them. Poor Helen though, he thought. She was married to God for crying out loud, and here he was simply having to put some bullet-proof glass up and hire a family bodyguard. Steve hadn't talked to her a whole lot recently, but from what he'd heard, the woman lived in constant fear for her life.

His thoughts drifted idly up and out the open window into the still mostly sleeping world outside. Eyelids drooped slowly and his breathing deepened into sleep.

"FUCKING SON-OF-A-BITCH!"

The scream rattled the glass of the windows that surrounded the small office. A woman of medium height and good build, who had been pacing frantically in front of a highly polished wooden desk, now had her fist slammed down on its surface and was facing off with a rather tiny, middle-aged man with badly thinned hair that had been combed over his head in a feeble attempt to hide a bald spot. Her deep green eyes burned with frustration as they bore into the flustered gray ones across the desk from her. The man raised his hands in defense and looked away, unable to meet her intense gaze.

"Look, Ms. Eveston, I understand your frustration but there's not much I can do. You see --" he was cut short.

"Bullshit! For one, you DON'T understand and for two, there is SO much you can do. That's what your job is! I will not, WILL NOT have my music categorized as any God Rock, Contemporary Christian garbage, ok? And I will not have people assuming anything about my religious affiliation, or that I made it because of who I'm married to! And I certainly as hell will NOT let some second-rate record exec like you tell me that I need to 'tone down' my lyrics and make it more family friendly," she finished her rant with a flourish of her left hand as the right went into her short blond, almost white hair and gripped her head. The man opened his mouth to speak but was stopped short again by her now more mellow voice, exhaustion apparent in its tone. "Look, this is stupid. Just let me record the damn thing how I want and make sure you get my records out of the Religious section at the CD shops, eh? Real simple, and then we can all go on with our meager little lives."

Defeated, the record executive slumped back into his chair and let out a long-held breath. "Fine."

"Good," she said and grabbed her coat from its position slumped over a chair. "Be seein' ya."

He raised a hand briefly to acknowledge her departure from his office and then let his head fall into waiting hands.

"How did it go?"

The coffee shop was relatively quiet save the occasional sucking noise issued by a cappuccino machine being operated by a very large man with an apron on. Two women were seated at a secluded booth near the back, one slumped over a triple laté and cradling her head in her hands and the other sitting with easy grace across the table, hands folded neatly together. The not-so happy looking of the two glanced up and responded to the inquiry with some chagrin.

"I chewed his head off, but I think everything's cool now."

The other woman raised a sandy brown eyebrow and sipped her coffee.

"That wasn't very nice, but so long as everything worked out," the brunette said with a degree of concern in her voice.

"Yeah well, pretty much worked out anyway," a sigh. "I'm just so tired of this constant uphill battle, Maggie, ya know?"

A hand clasped her forearm in a comforting gesture.

"Yeah, I do. But you're tough, and I'm always here for you, ok?"

Helen grinned weakly and gently kissed the hand that covered her arm.

"Thanks," a brief pause as gazes were exchanged. "We should go pay Steve a visit sometime soon. Haven't seen the man in ages," Helen suggested and lifted her drink to waiting lips, sipping the hot liquid gingerly.

"Mm. I'd like that. His little girl is so cute," Maggie offered, eyes twinkling. "How about this afternoon? We don't have anything planned."

Helen sat in thought for a moment and then nodded in agreement. The two rose to leave, placing their money for the drinks on the table, and then exited quietly with a wave to the man behind the counter. He issued them a lopsided grin and then went back to beating on the hapless cappuccino machine, which had fallen ill all of the sudden. Maggie glanced over her shoulder as they were crossing in front of the café and winked towards the general vicinity of man and machine. The two heard a muffled yelp as they turned the corner and then a loud slurping noise as the machine whirred abruptly back to life, covering the man in fluffy white foam.

"You're so bad," Helen accused, good-naturedly nudging Maggie in the side.

"Hey! I fixed his machine! I can't help it if he'd forgotten to turn the power switch off once it started not working," the brunette countered happily as they strolled down a side street towards where they'd parked their car.

Not far from the little café, the Reverend Lucian Tartarus (of TBN fame, he would say) found himself strolling casually down the sidewalk with his eyes fixed on the two figures that were headed for their car. He had been following the couple's activities (depraved as they were) throughout the past week quite closely and the time for action was now so close at hand that his palms were sweating in anticipation. He had only to keep an eye on them for another day while his men finished up their work. Then the Judgment would begin, and his floundering career in televangelism would at last be revitalized!

His gray eyes narrowed as the car sped off down the road and he spat viciously at the concrete below his feet. Lucian just knew that the two were off to commit more vile acts of depravity. And what he wouldn't give to be in the middle of all that scandalous activity...no! Satan was tempting him again! The preacher shook himself and huffed angrily, then started towards his own car with rapid steps. Just a few more days and then his Great Plan could be put into action--a few days and God would just go back to that damned valley where She belonged. He longed for that.

The front doorbell rang. Steve looked up from playing peek-a-boo with his infant daughter and glanced at the TV screen that displayed whoever was at the door. A smile crept across his features as he recognized the forms of Maggie and Helen waiting there and crossed the room to open the door.

"Maggie! Helen! Great t' see you guys again! Man, it's been ages! C'mon in!" he greeted them enthusiastically and motioned for them to enter.

"Hiya Steve, good to see you too," Helen said with quiet enthusiasm. Maggie smiled and stepped forward to envelope Steve in a warm hug.

"Hello, Steve. Wonderful to see you again," the deity added. Her glance went over his shoulder and to the small child sitting in a high chair, staring rapt at the woman who was hugging it's father. "Ooooh! Hiya cutie!" Maggie continued and launched herself in the direction of the baby. As the two engaged themselves in a conversation via baby-talk, Helen let out a bemused sigh and turned to Steve again.

"She's such a fruit. That's why I love her," Helen muttered. Steve chuckled and placed a friendly arm around her shoulder as he lead her towards a chair.

"Thanks for stopping by. I was just thinking about you guys, actually, and that it had been too long since we'd had a chance to visit," he said.

"Our pleasure, ya big dork. By-the-way, where's the wife today?" Helen asked as she lowered herself into the comfortable armchair.

"The 'wife' is right here," Steve's wife said as she came into the living room from somewhere back in the house. "Good to see you again, Helen."

Helen blushed ever-so slightly and snorted. "Sarah! You always do that to me!"

"Well you wouldn't have to worry so much about it if you'd stop calling me that!" Sarah explained with a knowing smile. She went over to where Maggie and the baby were having a very in-depth conversation about the benefits of breast feeding over bottle feeding (though Sarah didn't know this, as she was not fluent in baby-speak like Maggie was).

"Are you two getting along then?" Sarah asked as she poked the kid n the nose.

"Oh, quite famously actually. You have a very smart child, Sarah. Must get it from her mother's side," Maggie quipped and stuck her tongue out at Steve, who had a look of mock-indigence on his face.

"Oh fine, gang up on poor old Steve!" he said, exasperated. Maggie just winked and went back to playing with the baby.

"It never ends," he finished and turned back to Helen.

Lucian couldn't have hoped for a better scenario. The whole lot of heathens were together in one place! He had decided, on a very good whim, to follow the two women in his car and they had gone to Steve's house! Fortune was certainly smiling upon him this day.

He sat, crouching in some bushes just outside of the house, watching the scene inside through a bullet-proof window. Originally, the plan was to take action in another day or so, but this was too perfect. The reverend grabbed his cell phone and dialed a number. Two rings and someone picked up.

"It's Lucian. Yeah. The time is now, my friend. They all gather at 777 West Hestian Drive...I know it's early! Get your asses up here anyway!" he grumbled and slammed the phone shut. The time was at hand....

The baby, or rather Saffron as she was named, peered curiously at the front window. She knew someone was out there, and was pretty sure that Maggie did too, so she assumed that everything was fine. Promptly, she went back to drooling and wondering when Blues Clues was going to come on.

"So, how old is little Sappho these days?" Helen asked with a cheeky grin. Steve nearly choked on the pop he was drinking and glared at Helen.

"Would you not call her that?!?"

"She'll be a year old in another month," Sarah interjected. Helen nodded and turned back on Steve.

"What, you afraid I'm going to 'turn' her?"

Steve continued to glare and replied, "No...it's just...well hell, Helen, she's barely one-year-old! "

"Exactly! What 'harm' will it do?"

"It won't...I mean, not to her...but if you keep calling her that around other people they're going to think we named her that--"

"Steve," Sarah gave him a look. "It doesn't matter. Saffy is too young to think about anything sexual let alone consider alternative lifestyles so would you please get your panties out of the knot they're currently in? Besides, I think it's cute."

At this, Steve threw his arms in the air in surrender. Helen smiled happily at Sarah and then stuck her tongue out at Steve. Maggie just sighed and glanced out the window...in time to catch a head disappearing quickly into the bushes outside. She had known that someone was watching them, and now felt like the time to let everyone else in on it.

"Ah, guys, I feel that I should let you all know that we are being watched."

All eyes were suddenly on the deity. Saffron burped.

"Yes, well...there is a certain someone hiding out in the bushes with less-than noble intentions in their head. I suggest we either call law enforcement or take matters into our own hands, which will only be safe for another, oh, five minutes until the person's backup arrives."

Silence. Maggie tickled the baby in the ribs and smiled as she giggled with delight. Finally, Helen cleared her throat and spoke.

"Well-then," at this she stood and brushed imaginary dust from her pant legs. "I say we go out there and interrogate the peeping tom!"

"Now just wait a second, we don't know if they're armed or not! We do have a small child to worry about here," Steve added.

"Speaking of which, where are your other three offspring?" Helen asked as she fished around in her pocket for something.

"David is at school, he started the third grade last week, and Ashton and Cait are both off at boarding school," Sarah explained.

"All girls boarding school?" Helen inquired, eyebrow raised in question.

"Yes, it is," Steve said cautiously.

"And you say I'm encouraging sexual deviancy," Helen gibed. Steve was about to make a retort when Helen produced what she had been searching for in her pocket--a switchblade knife.

"Good Me, sweety, do you have to carry that thing around with you all the time?" Maggie asked.

"Hey! You never know when it might come in handy, now let's go talk to our visitor."

The people inside had all moved out of his line of sight and Lucian shifted uncomfortably in his hiding place. His men would arrive at any minute and the anticipation was getting to him. He pulled a sweaty hand through his greasy black hair and then proceeded to stroke the goatee that clung unhappily to his jaw. There was the sound of a door opening to his right and before he could say a Lord Have
Mercy, he looked up to see a minion of Satan hovering over him and brandishing a switchblade.

Helen peered down at the man who was crouching in the bushes, staring at her as though she had sprouted horns or something.

"Can I help you? Or are you just relieving yourself in these bushes?" she asked with an amused tone in her voice. The man glared at her and then stood. He was about her height and of a build that suggested he once possessed a relatively athletic physique but currently was somewhat beer-bellied and pasty. His hair was jet black and gleamed with gel or wax or who knows what. What tipped off the kind of man he was to Helen was the impeccably tailored suit he wore with a tie covered in little dancing Jesus'. Or should she say Jesuii? Whatever.

"What the hell do you want?" she continued.

"I want to cast the demons from this household and from this earth!" he shouted with the sing-song intonations he reserved for sermons and revivals.

"Uh huh. Greeeaaat," she began sarcastically. The rest of the group walked up behind her then and the man cast a look over her shoulder and, upon noticing Maggie, his jaw dropped.

"Satan remove thyself from my sight! Get the gone!" he shouted and waved his hands around in front of his face. Maggie giggled.

"Look buddy, we don't much appreciate people lurking in our bushes so if you would kindly remove yourself--" Steve started but was cut off by the man.

"I am the Reverend Lucian Tartarus, here to save your wicked souls by casting you unto the Light! Repent now sinners, or pay the ultimate price in the afterlife!"

"What an unfortunate last name," Sarah said quietly.

"I'd say it was rather appropriate," Helen replied over her shoulder to where Sarah was standing and then turned her focus back on the Reverend. "I suggest you get your sorry ass out of here before we call the cops, ok?"

At this, Steve produced a cordless phone and began dialing.

"No! Ah, no that won't be necessary," Lucian suddenly lost the wind in his holy sails and stammered. "I'll be on my way, but mark my words sinners! There will be hell to pay!" and he scrambled out from the bushes and ran to the street where his car was parked and then sped off down the road. Steve hung the phone up and sighed.

"Now that just doesn't make any sense," he said.

"What doesn't?" Maggie asked.

"That a religious leader would be out to get God!"

"It makes perfect sense, my dear deluded friend," Helen added. "His leadership is threatened by the return of a God that he had been, through teaching intolerance and hate, preaching against. I remember him now, used to have a show on TBN but it got canceled when the network went bankrupt upon our Maggie's return to the world. Most people with half a brain suddenly realized that people like the good Reverend were full of shit. So my guess is that he's out to stop God and revitalize his dead career."

Steve took a moment to digest this and then nodded.

"Isn't he married to the scary woman with the tarantula eyelashes and pink hair?" Sarah asked. Maggie gave the affirmative.

"Well, shouldn't we report this to the police or something?" Steve asked. Just then they heard a noise from inside the house that sounded like a door slamming and a tiny shriek. They all ran inside to find Saffron's highchair abandoned and the back doors' lock jimmied.

On to Conclusion...

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