Angels of the Second Earth Age Read online

  “There’s important business in Israel. There is a man they call Bubba. Bubba Dee.”

  “Can’t you send someone else? They don’t like Americans.”

  “Everyone’s gone. It’s up to you. Anyways, I go all the time.”

  Shannon pointed at a picture on Larry’s desk. “Aren’t you friends with an Israeli? That picture of you and your friend… is he wearing a turban?”

  Larry put the picture in his desk drawer. “No. Who told you that? We were at a Halloween party.”

  “I heard you were kidnapped over there.”

  “No. I was staying with a friend. If an Israeli doesn’t get you—I mean, if you get bored, go to Iran.”

  “Okay, I’ll go,” said Shannon. “Just for you.”

  “Take that nice new United States jacket of mine, so people can see you working in the red, white, and blue.”

  “Thanks, Larry. It sure is a nice jacket.”

  Shannon put on the coat. “What if I can’t get a ticket?”

  Larry picked up the phone. “Take that helmet with the flashing light so you can work in the dark. The ticket will be at the airport waiting for you.”

  “Who are you calling?” asked Shannon.

  “The airline. I want to make sure you have a good seat.”

  “Am I getting new equipment to work with?”

  Larry walked over to a file cabinet. “I’ll ship it over. For now, here is a mermaid compass and my fuzzy pink ink pen.”

  “Do they work?” asked Shannon.

  “I don’t know, but here’s my old thermometer. It might need batteries. Here’s fifty dollars.”

  “I have never seen one that old before. I need to go home before I leave,” Shannon said. “I need clothes. Mine were in the truck. I sure hope they find it.”

  “Forget about the truck,” Larry said. “Here’s a hundred more dollars to buy new clothes when you get there. You have to leave now. The plane is waiting on you. Call me if you get back.”

  Shannon turned, surprised. “What did you say?”

  “Call me when you get back. You have to get to the airport. See you later.”

  Shannon stopped to say goodbye to Mary.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “To Israel. I have to hurry. Make sure I get a good hotel.”

  Shannon went out to the street, waved down a cab, and climbed inside. “To the airport.” Shannon noticed the taxi driver was wearing a turban. “Where are you from?”

  “Israel,” said the driver.

  “That’s where I’m going.”

  “What are you going there for?”

  “To find a man and look for an active volcano.”

  “Do you believe in God?” asked the driver.

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Do you know what happens to nonbelievers?

  “No!”

  The demons find you, rip your heart out, and feed it to you!” He spun around in his seat to glare at his passenger.

  Shannon pressed himself back into his seat.

  He turned back around and said “we will be there in a minute.”

  “That’s good,” said Shannon.

  “I like you, when you get there, look up Bubba D. He has a volcano that will erupt,” the driver said, laughing, as they pulled up to the curb. “Have a nice trip. That will be $25, and please sign my good driver’s chart.”

  “I’m out of here,” Shannon grumbled. He threw the money and ran.

  “Wait! You forgot to sign,” the driver yelled. “Never mind. I will do it for you.” He checked the “Very Good” box and said, “I know I’m good.”

  Shannon ran past an old lady and got in line at the ticket counter. The old lady stood behind Shannon and shoved him.

  “Would you quit shoving me, please?” Shannon asked, annoyed

  The old lady hit him with her umbrella and said, “Line cutter.” When Shannon’s turn came, she poked him in the back with the pointy end. “Your turn.”

  “I’m here to pick up my ticket,” Shannon said at the counter. “My name is Shannon I. B. Gay.”

  “Just a moment,” said the young lady behind the counter.

  Shannon dropped his pen and bent over to pick it up.

  “Here is your ticket, ma’am,” the ticket agent said, handing a boarding pass to the old woman.

  “That’s not mine. I’m not going to Israel,” the old lady complained. “It’s the dummy on the floor.”

  Shannon stood up, and the old lady hit Shannon again. “Hurry up,” she grumbled.

  “That’s mine,” said Shannon as he turned around. “And quit hitting me.”

  The old lady scowled.

  The ticket agent looked surprised. “May I see your ID?” she asked. “I thought the ticket was for a woman.”

  “Shannon is a man’s name, too. What’s your name?”

  “Bobbi,” she replied.

  “That’s a guy’s name.”

  “More so than your name.” The ticket lady looked at her screen. “Mr. Gay, did you know this ticket is one way?”

  “He must be sending me the other one when I get there,” Shannon assumed.

  “Sign right here,” pointed Bobbi.

  “Do you have a pen? Never mind, I have one.”

  He took out his pink pen and signed. He felt someone staring at him. He looked around, and the security guard winked at him. Bobbi gave him his ticket, and Shannon walked away then began to pick up the pace. The security guard stopped Shannon and told him to put his hands against the wall.

  “Spread ’em,” he ordered. He felt Shannon’s ass. “It’s tight. You can go now.”

  Shannon didn’t look back. He ran to the ramp and boarded the plane.

  Just as he found and slumped into his seat, Shannon’s cell phone beeped. It was a text from Mary with his hotel information. He was booked at the Mahogany Inn. Someone would be waiting at the airport to pick him up.

  “Why does everyone think I’m gay?” Shannon wondered. “What a bunch of shit just to get on an airplane.” He looked around. “Damn, that’s the same guy that was looking at me while the guard felt my ass. He is right across from me.”

  A woman walked up to Shannon. “Is this Seat 33?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry. You’re in the wrong seat. I requested a seat next to a woman,” she explained.

  “I am Shannon.”

  “Oh, I thought you were going to be a woman.” She waved down the flight attendant. “I asked to sit by a woman,” she said.

  “May I see your ticket, sir?” the tall, blonde attendant asked. “What is your name?”

  “My name is Shannon I.B. Gay.”

  The woman looked at the flight attendant. “It’s all right. I’ll sit here since he’s gay.”

  The guy seated across from Shannon winked.

  The plane took off. Shannon covered his head and went to sleep. He dreamed of his first day of school. All the kids made fun of his name.

  “Mom, would you please change my name?” he’d begged when he got home that day.

  “But it is such a joyful name,” his mom had insisted.

  Shannon appealed to his father. “Dad, change my name to anything but Shannon, please.”

  “Son, if I changed your name, your mom would hate me. Your mom was a flower child, and she used to love a man named Shannon. He thought he could fly, and he jumped off a thirty-story building. I married your mom, and you got his name. We could have named you Isaac, after me, or Bill, after your mom’s dad, but you got Shannon. You have to deal with it.”

  Shannon woke, screaming, “No, Dad, please, no.”

  The woman next to him put her hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right. Your dad isn’t here to hurt you anymore.”

  Shann
on grabbed the woman by the neck and began to shake her.

  The woman screamed, “I’m not your dad!”

  Shannon looked around. Everyone was staring at him. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” the lady said. “The last nightmare I had, I killed my husband.”

  Shannon didn’t know what to say to that, but replied, “Please, don’t fall asleep next to me, lady.”

  Shannon covered his head again and went back to sleep.

  “That’s a good boy. Go to sleep, and have a good dream about your boyfriend,” the lady cooed. Shannon mumbled and went to sleep.

  Shannon woke just as the plane landed. He sighed and rubbed his head and felt a pillow. A pillow? He opened his eyes and rolled his head to see the creepy guy’s face, oh, so close to his. He scrambled in his seat and pressed himself against the plane wall.

  “What are you doing in this seat?” he stammered.

  “I switched seats with that woman so we could be together. I like tall men with red hair and blue eyes.”

  Shannon yelled, “I’m not gay. My name is Gay. Get it?”

  The man smiled. He took a pen out of his pocket and scribbled on a piece of paper. “This is my number. My name is Joe. When you come out of the closet, give me a call.”

  Shannon crumbled the paper and threw it on the floor. The plane began to land. He slid into the aisle, being sure to keep his rear faced away from the man, exited the plane, and got into the long line at Customs.

  When he got to the window, Shannon showed his passport to the small fat man at Customs.

  “What are you here for?” asked the agent.

  “I’m a scientist looking for an active volcano.”

  The man stood up. “Don’t joke. What are you here for?”

  “It’s no joke.”

  “There is no active volcano in Israel.”

  “A man named Bubba Dee told us there is an active volcano here.”

  “The only Bubba I know runs a whore house. I think he has a girl he calls ‘Volcano.’” The man looked around and shouted, “Has anyone seen an active volcano in Israel?”

  The crowd began to laugh. The man was still giggling when he stamped Shannon’s passport and gave it back to him.

  “Have a nice time looking for something that doesn’t exist.”

  “You must have the wrong Bubba,” said Shannon. “I will find that volcano.” He walked over to the passenger pick-up location.

  “I hope someone is here to pick me up,” he said to himself. Moments passed, and he heard his name being paged.

  “Paging Shannon I.B. Gay. Paging Shannon I.B. Gay. Paging you, queer. Paging Brown Eye. Are you here? Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

  Shannon went to the paging area and saw a young man on the intercom. “I’m Shannon.”

  The young man was short, with dark brown hair, dark skin, and blue eyes. He turned around. “You’re kidding. I thought the hotel was joking with me. I’m sorry. My name is Boy. I wouldn’t say your name too loudly here, and take that coat off before they shoot at you and hit me. Where is your luggage?”

  “I have none.”

  “That makes it easy.”

  “Are you even old enough to drive?”

  “Yes, I’m seventeen. I drive all the time. How old are you, Shannon?”

  “I’m twenty-four. So where’s the cab?”

  “There she is,” said Boy, pointing towards the curb.

  “Is that a bike with three wheels?”

  “No it’s a Grandes. Get in. The hotel isn’t far.”

  “Is it safe?”

  “Just like a mother holding her baby. Get in.”

  Shannon got in the back and sat down. “Where is the seatbelt?”

  “There is a rope you can hold on to if you get scared.”

  And with that, Shannon and Boy headed for the hotel. Boy crested a hill and began the downward side.

  “Doesn’t the breeze feel good?” Boy asked.

  Shannon clutched at the seat. The wind whipped past his face, stinging his eyes. “Why are we going so fast?”

  He looked over Boy’s shoulder and saw the road dropping quickly beneath them.

  “Oh, shit.”

  CHAPTER 5

  An Accommodating Able

  Echoing his sentiments, Boy turned to Shannon. “Oh, shit! We have no brakes!”

  Shannon saw blinking lights at the bottom of the hill. “What are those?”

  “It’s backed-up traffic and road construction. There is nowhere to go!”

  “We’re going to crash!” screamed Shannon.

  Shannon and Boy squealed as they passed between two cars, bounced onto the sidewalk, and sped through a large pipe, over a car, and down a narrow walking path. Sparks flew. They finally coasted up to the praying wall.

  Shannon looked back at Boy, dazed.

  “How did you get up there?” asked Boy from the rear seat. “And how did I get back here?”

  “I don’t know,” said Shannon. “How did you steer the bike from back there?”

  “I don’t know,” answered Boy. He got out and kissed the ground. “Thank you, Lord.”

  “Don’t worry, everyone. We’re all right.” Shannon reassured the excited crowd. The crowd, now a mob, kept coming. “Why are they running at us, Boy?”

  “We’re touching the praying wall with an object that is not of God. The ride didn’t kill us, but they will.”

  Shannon got on the Grandes.

  “Get in, Boy,” he commanded.

  Shannon pedaled as fast as he could. He went up the narrow alley, took a hard left, and dragged the back wheels. He went through another alley and into the street. He thought his heart would pound out of his chest. “Are they gone?”

  Boy looked back. “It looks like it. There’s the Mahogany Inn. How did you know where it was?”

  “I’m just good,” Shannon said with a big grin.

  Shannon got off the bike and stood at the front door. “I’m tired, and I have sweat running into my shoes. I’m going to check in and take a shower, then go to bed.”

  “Hey, I should get a tip for good service.”

  “You almost killed me twice, and you want a tip?”

  “I didn’t know the brakes were bad. I need money to fix them, and I did show up on time.”

  “Here’s five dollars to get those brakes fixed.”

  “They cost ten,” said Boy.

  Shannon dug another bill out of his pocket then walked into the hotel and rang the bell at the counter.

  The clerk came out of the office. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes. My name is Shannon I.B. Gay. I have a reservation.”

  The clerk laughed. “I’ll get the manager.”

  The manager came out. “Did Boy pick you up on time?” he asked as he typed at the computer.

  “Yes.”

  “Damn, I thought I had him this time.”

  “What?” asked Shannon.

  “Nothing. It’s a long story. So how was the ride here?”

  “His brakes went out, and I thought we were going to die.”

  “I’m sorry. He was supposed to fix those weeks ago. I gave him money to get them repaired.”

  “Son of a bitch,” said Shannon. “He got me for ten bucks.”

  The manager looked up from his computer. “I’m sorry to tell you this, Shannon, but we don’t have a room for you.”

  “A reservation was made for me. What happened?”

  “It’s the name. We thought it was a joke, and we’re very sorry. There is a cot in the maintenance room. You can use it, and your stay here will be free.”

  “As big as this inn is, you have no rooms?”

  “I’m terribly sorry, but we’re under construction.”

  “How ab
out a shower?”

  “You can use the lobby bathroom. There is a sink in there.”

  A big man walked to the counter with a load of luggage.

  “I’m here for my room. My name is Able Fart.”

  “I know who you are, and it’s good to see you again,” said the manager.

  Shannon looked at the manger. “Really? You believed his name?”

  “He’s been coming here for years,” the manager explained.

  Able grabbed Shannon by the shirt. “Are you making fun of my name?”

  “No, I’m not,” said Shannon with a squeaky voice.

  The hotel manager came out from behind the desk. “Calm down, Able. His name is worse than yours. Able, meet Shannon I.B. Gay.”

  “Wow! His name is worse. Are you gay?”

  “No.”

  “Sorry,” Able mumbled as he let go of Shannon’s shirt. “Sometimes my name gets me into trouble.”

  The manager walked over with two keys.

  “Your room is ready, Able. You reserved a room with two beds, correct? Where is your partner?”

  “I only need one key. My partner caught the swine flu.”

  “Shannon needs a bed. If you let him stay with you, I’ll cut your bill in half.”

  “He can stay with me. Nothing like saving money.” Able smiled.

  “I don’t want to catch swine flu,” Shannon said.

  “The last guy that stayed in the maintenance room got hepatitis,” the manager said.

  “I’ll stay with Able,” Shannon decided.

  Shannon and Able went up to the second floor.

  “I stayed in the same room last time,” said Able. “Room 202. My hands are full. The key is in my shirt pocket. Could you get it?”

  “There is no key,” Shannon said after fishing around in the pocket.

  “Try the left pants pocket.”

  “Not there, either.”

  “Try my right pants pocket.”

  “There it is. I feel it.”

  The creepy man from the plane walked into the hall from Room 201 and watched Shannon dig in Able’s pockets for a moment. He cleared his throat.

  “You got yourself a big man, Shannon,” he said. “What does he have that I don’t?”

  Able looked at Shannon. “What is he talking about?”

  “He’s a guy from my flight that won’t leave me alone. He thinks I’m gay.”