box of cereal to make my breakfast.
Chapter 27
T ell you what: hell was like a big evil torture-laden hive. If you stood back from it, you could see there were all sorts of chambers, going down and down and back and back, too many even to count, with something yuck-o or boring or stupid or terrifying or weird going on in each individual cell. As you got closer, you could make out faces and the like. If you pulled back, you couldn’t see anything specific but had the sense that lots and lots of stuff was going on all around you.
Hell: nature’s other beehive.
I could hear the Ant and Laura having a quiet conversation; I’d been so busy musing and looking around I’d dropped about twenty feet back. They must have thought if they kept their voices low enough, I couldn’t hear them over the screams and moans and bitching and tantrums of the damned.
“Of course I jumped at the chance,” the Ant was saying. Laura’s head was bent attentively toward her birth mother; she had about five inches on the Ant. Laura looked almost protective as she walked beside her. “I had a chip, you know. The you-possessed-me-to-have-a-child chip, and in all this time I never played it. I never wanted to. But then I heard you were coming. That you were alive, I mean, and coming, and Lucifer said I could help show you around.”
“Is she nice to you? Relatively speaking?”
“Sure. It’s all hype, you know.”
“I don’t, Antonia. Could you explain?”
“Lucifer doesn’t spend all her time thinking up ways to torture the souls who come to her. Hell is—it’s almost a business. One she’s been running for tens of thousands of years, with no sick time or vacation days. Or holidays. Or even maternity leave.” And then she—did she? She did! She actually elbowed my sister, a sort of yuk-yuk elbow dig.
I rolled my eyes. Boo-hoo. Poor Satan. All work and no dental benefits; sounded terrible.
“Can you imagine?” the Ant exclaimed in what sounded like genuine sympathy. I couldn’t be sure, though. Since I’d never actually heard that tone from her, you’ll understand my confusion. “I thought the customs line at O’Hare was dreadful. That’s part of the reason you’re here, you know.”
“What? What do you mean?”
The Ant shut up, in the way she alone shut up: she kept talking. “I, um, probably shouldn’t have—it’s not appropriate for me to be talking to you about this.”
“But—”
“Oh, look, there’s Ted Bundy being raped and strangled again today.”
“Aaaiiggh!” Laura clapped her hands over her eyes. “Antonia, I don’t want to look at that! Please don’t call my attention to things like that. And now please finish your thought”
What thought? I snickered but managed not to say it aloud.
“I really need to finish this tour,” the Ant said, sounding rattled and nervous.
“I don’t want you to get into trouble, so I’ll leave off it for now. But ... is that part of the reason you’re helping her? Is Baal ... this will sound so silly, but is Baal overworked?”
“Not so much overworked as I think she’s lonely,” the Ant said after a long pause. Mother and daughter had lowered their voices more, and I ruthlessly decided not to mention I could still hear them. “She’s the only one of her kind, you know. And she’s been doing this for a long, long time. Ever since the terrible fight with you-know-who.”
The building super? Her mechanic?
“Yes,” the Ant concluded. “I’d say she was lonesome.”
Laura stopped short and glanced back at me. “Oh, look,” I said, pretending I hadn’t been eavesdropping. “Kenneth Lay is being buried alive in Krugerrands. Gah, that must hurt—look at the welts! They’re doing that to him naked? Oh, ew, did you see where some of those Krugerrands went? Hey!” I yelled. “How ‘bout in your next life, you come back as someone who doesn’t screw people out of billions?”
“Don’t taunt the damned, Betsy,” the Antichrist chided.
Chapter 27
T ell you what: hell was like a big evil torture-laden hive. If you stood back from it, you could see there were all sorts of chambers, going down and down and back and back, too many even to count, with something yuck-o or boring or stupid or terrifying or weird going on in each individual cell. As you got closer, you could make out faces and the like. If you pulled back, you couldn’t see anything specific but had the sense that lots and lots of stuff was going on all around you.
Hell: nature’s other beehive.
I could hear the Ant and Laura having a quiet conversation; I’d been so busy musing and looking around I’d dropped about twenty feet back. They must have thought if they kept their voices low enough, I couldn’t hear them over the screams and moans and bitching and tantrums of the damned.
“Of course I jumped at the chance,” the Ant was saying. Laura’s head was bent attentively toward her birth mother; she had about five inches on the Ant. Laura looked almost protective as she walked beside her. “I had a chip, you know. The you-possessed-me-to-have-a-child chip, and in all this time I never played it. I never wanted to. But then I heard you were coming. That you were alive, I mean, and coming, and Lucifer said I could help show you around.”
“Is she nice to you? Relatively speaking?”
“Sure. It’s all hype, you know.”
“I don’t, Antonia. Could you explain?”
“Lucifer doesn’t spend all her time thinking up ways to torture the souls who come to her. Hell is—it’s almost a business. One she’s been running for tens of thousands of years, with no sick time or vacation days. Or holidays. Or even maternity leave.” And then she—did she? She did! She actually elbowed my sister, a sort of yuk-yuk elbow dig.
I rolled my eyes. Boo-hoo. Poor Satan. All work and no dental benefits; sounded terrible.
“Can you imagine?” the Ant exclaimed in what sounded like genuine sympathy. I couldn’t be sure, though. Since I’d never actually heard that tone from her, you’ll understand my confusion. “I thought the customs line at O’Hare was dreadful. That’s part of the reason you’re here, you know.”
“What? What do you mean?”
The Ant shut up, in the way she alone shut up: she kept talking. “I, um, probably shouldn’t have—it’s not appropriate for me to be talking to you about this.”
“But—”
“Oh, look, there’s Ted Bundy being raped and strangled again today.”
“Aaaiiggh!” Laura clapped her hands over her eyes. “Antonia, I don’t want to look at that! Please don’t call my attention to things like that. And now please finish your thought”
What thought? I snickered but managed not to say it aloud.
“I really need to finish this tour,” the Ant said, sounding rattled and nervous.
“I don’t want you to get into trouble, so I’ll leave off it for now. But ... is that part of the reason you’re helping her? Is Baal ... this will sound so silly, but is Baal overworked?”
“Not so much overworked as I think she’s lonely,” the Ant said after a long pause. Mother and daughter had lowered their voices more, and I ruthlessly decided not to mention I could still hear them. “She’s the only one of her kind, you know. And she’s been doing this for a long, long time. Ever since the terrible fight with you-know-who.”
The building super? Her mechanic?
“Yes,” the Ant concluded. “I’d say she was lonesome.”
Laura stopped short and glanced back at me. “Oh, look,” I said, pretending I hadn’t been eavesdropping. “Kenneth Lay is being buried alive in Krugerrands. Gah, that must hurt—look at the welts! They’re doing that to him naked? Oh, ew, did you see where some of those Krugerrands went? Hey!” I yelled. “How ‘bout in your next life, you come back as someone who doesn’t screw people out of billions?”
“Don’t taunt the damned, Betsy,” the Antichrist chided.
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