What Would Satan Do_ - Anthony Miller [107]
One of the men pointed in the direction of the doors through which El Jefe had gone earlier.
“Right,” said Satan. “Lead the way.”
The man who’d singled himself out by pointing now gestured to himself and looked around, apparently confused. The Devil raised his archangel eyebrows sarcastically and nodded, clearing up any uncertainty the man had. The man nodded, turned, and pushed his way through the doors. Satan followed right behind him, marching with his head sideways as he worked on his ice cream treat. A moment later, the rest of the men fell into step behind them.
Behind the doors, the cozy restaurant décor gave way to a sterile, utilitarian hallway tiled pale green. The group made its way silently – except for the occasional ice-cream slurping sound from the Devil – down some stairs and through a labyrinth of corridors until they came to an open doorway from which warm, yellow light streamed.
“Here,” said the man who’d led them, half under his breath.
Satan looked back at the rest of the group, as if to confirm that this was the proper destination, and was met by several perfunctory nods. He paused to bite a crunchy bit of the cone, and stepped inside.
The room was clearly some kind of antechamber. There was a desk with a computer and a telephone, a couple of uncomfortable-looking chairs, and a tallish plastic tree. More warm light streamed through a second doorway. Satan bit off another piece of cake cone and peeked around the desk at the computer screen.
“Secretary’s out,” said a voice. “Just come on in.”
Satan stood and peered around the edge of the doorway. The next room was not unlike the one he was in, except there was no tree, and its computer-free desk was occupied. Its occupant was a frail-looking skeleton of a man with translucent, liver-spotted skin and only a few wisps of snow white hair to cover his shiny dome. He wore a dress shirt (and probably some pants, though this can’t be known for certain, since he was sitting), and his whole body quivered and trembled, making him look like he’d been awake for a week.
The man looked up at Satan with eyes that seemed out of place – they were dark, piercing and alive. He raised one knobby hand that seemed to have too much skin, and, with a quick jerk, motioned for the Devil to have a seat. “Sit down, son,” said the man.
“I want,” said Satan, popping the last bit of cone into his mouth, “to talk to you about your army.”
Chapter 40. Dude, How Small Is Your Cat?
The little bell tinkled as Liam and Lola entered the guitar shop.
“Maybe we should just go—” Lola stopped at the sound of Raju yelling into a telephone.
“You are talking too much! Please explain me again, please, what the hell is going on.” He stood behind the glass countertop, hunched over the counter, the phone pressed to his ear. “Pinochle? What? I don’t understand.” More listening. “Ah, yes. I am seeing this now. But I don’t think that it’s good to dress like God. No, no. I don’t care. It is bad karma. Wery bad karma.”
Lola shot Liam an inquisitive look. Liam shrugged and stomped off to the back room.
Raju continued his high-volume conversation. “An army? What you are talking about? There is no army here.” He waved at the racks of guitars with an affronted shake of his head. “This does not make sense.” He paused to listen. “No, I don’t care. You are wery stupid. No, no. This is not correct. I am merely charming. And you are wery tedious.” Raju hung up abruptly, and pointed a dreamy look in Lola’s direction. “What can I do you for?”
“Oh, I’m just waiting. Thanks.” She leaned over to pet an enormous cat who had slithered out from behind the counter. “Oh, you’re a heavy one,” she said as she picked up the extra large feline. She noticed that Raju was still staring at here. “I love cats.”
“What a coincidence! I love cats too. That’s Roger and a Half,” said Raju.
“What?”
“Roger and a Half.”
Lola nodded as if she understood, but then stopped. “Why—why did you guys name him—?”
“Roger and a Half? Because he’s not quite as fat as two Rogers.” He pointed behind her to another,