#

  I goofed off the rest of the week. I knew I shouldn’t have, but if they didn’t care, why should I? Besides, the one time when I tried to be proactive, I ended up with something in my room—so there.

  Lucy and I went a lot of places: the Sistine Chapel, the Leaning Tower of Pisa, a real Italian pizzeria. I tried to make sure that everywhere we went, there was something she could do. I was hoping that would stave off any desire to make more scenes and maybe, she learned her lesson.

  We had no more incidences like at the NAC. The more imaginative part of my brain took that as a sign. The problem was, I still didn’t know of what.

  The tone of the day had been gradually going downhill. I didn’t have to ask why—the class was tomorrow. I was not looking forward to it.

  Every so often, I’d pull up my email, but there was nothing. I didn’t relish sitting for another four hours looking at pictures and not having subtitles. I was going to recommend that either they make an American version of the class, or make sure every marker being sent to learn at the exorcism school have a crash course in Italian.

  It was no wonder the people that moved to the US from other countries tried to learn some of the language before they moved. I couldn’t imagine much worse than this and I at least knew some Latin.

  “You should get Tabby a present,” Lucy said out of the blue.

  I looked up at her. “What type of gift?”

  She shrugged. “Something pretty.”

  I nodded. “We’ll have to go tomorrow. People are in church today.”

  “Why? Because they are in church? Why can’t we shop?” she asked.

  “People are more religious here. Restaurants and grocery stores close early on Sundays and open late. Most people go to church here.”

  “Oh.”

  “We’ll have better luck finding her something after class.”

  She sighed. “Okay.”

  “Don’t feel bad. I’m getting bored too.”

  “Those people need to treat you better.”

  “Who?” I was lost.

  “Your bosses.”

  “The Order?”

  She nodded.

  “Yeah, I agree. Believe me. Next time I actually get to talk to someone, I’m getting a phone number.” And anything else I could get my hands on.

  “You’d better or Tabby is going to kill you.”

  I laughed. Sadly, she was probably right.

  #

  The next morning, I dutifully packed my bag and headed off to class, but I didn’t like it. There was some small part of me that hoped that I was wrong and that there would be a translator waiting for me. That would be a nice change of pace. But I knew I was pressing my luck.

  Lucy followed me through the Regina Ateneo Pontificio Regina Apostolarum to the classroom. This time, I arrived late enough that the door was already open. I chose the chair I had sat in at the last class. I saw no translator, or any teacher for that matter. At least I wasn’t late.

  I took my Bible and my Roman Ritual out of my bag and laid them on the table along with my iPad. I watched everyone that came in carefully—just in case they could be my translator–but there was no one different.

  Finally, someone with some purpose entered into the room and went to the lectern. He wasn’t the same guy as last time. Maybe each class was going to have a different teacher. In a way, that was kind of nice…of course, if I could understand them.

  He started firing off in rapid-fire Italian. Soon, I lost interest. Lucy was sitting on the floor next to me. She even rolled her eyes and I had to force myself not to doze off.

  As the guy in front droned on and on, I felt my attention slip. I didn’t care anymore.

  I doodled on pieces of paper and made origami animals out of my notebook for Lucy. I even had the animals stage a mock battle on the chair next to me. Granted it was stupid, but it was also kind of fun. Better than staring at the wall anyway.

  “And Mr. Pig-bottom had to go away forever and ever,” I whispered.

  Suddenly, I realized the room had gotten very quiet. I glanced up and the teacher was glaring at me from his lectern at the bottom of the classroom. Then he launched back into class. I shrugged. I couldn’t have been that distracting. His voice was damn loud. One of the other students must have complained or something. Oh well.

  I stared down at Lucy. She seemed more bored than ever. I felt for her. I did. This trip had sucked donkey dicks and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. Since the paper animals were out, I needed to find something else to entertain her. Too bad this wasn’t a day when they could dim the lights. I could have done shadow puppets.

  “No, after the other disaster, we don’t need any more of those,” I mumbled.

  The teacher continued to drone on and on. It seemed like everyone but me was paying attention. Good for them.

  Finally, a light-halo went off in my head. I grabbed the Bible and the Roman Ritual and placed them so that the pages were facing each other roughly six-inches apart. Then, I grabbed some pages and put my thumbs between them in each book. I now had hand puppets. Heh.

  Lucy looked up and stared—ready to watch.

  I started moving the “mouths” along with Mr. Blowhard at the front of the class. Yeah, technically what I was doing was definitely one hell of a no-no, but I didn’t care anymore. Entertaining Lucy was a lot more fun.

  The teacher put on a bit of audio that was again some other dude speaking in Italian. I continued with my “puppets.” Lucy was trying very hard not to laugh.

  And then, her eyes got as wide as dinner plates. I followed her gaze—into the eyes of Mr. Blowhard.

  Oh, shit. I’d done it now.

  “Cio che nel mondo pensi che stai facendo?”

  “What?” I asked.

  His face turned red and his eyes seemed like they were going to pop right out of his head.

  “Ive!” he pointed with his finger toward the entrance to the classroom. I didn’t stall. I didn’t even need a translation for that. I showed all my shit into my bag and ran out of the room.

  “I am so fucked,” I said as I rushed down the hall.

  Lucy giggled as we walked from the building. “Good one, Grace.”

  “Where did you hear that?”

  “TV.”

  I laughed. “Well, seeing that I’m probably kicked out of the Order, want to get some ice cream?”

  “Yeah!”

  At least that was something both of us could use to put smiles on our faces.

  #

  I’ll admit it. That ice cream tasted better than anything I’d had in a long time. Maybe it was because I was my own man again? Or it could have been that it was Italian and didn’t have the crappy chemicals that get added to everything in the US.

  None of that mattered though. Now, I had more problems than I knew what to do with. We went back to the hotel. I started pacing and shit. I wasn’t so stupid as to think I’d be given another chance. Old Blowhard would make sure of that. I would be damn lucky if I got to keep my job. The old resume was going to need a brush-up.

  My phone rang. It was a number I did not recognize. Maybe it would be a wrong number. It was possible. Especially since this wasn’t my regular phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Mr. Holiday. I don’t think I have to tell you how disappointed we are in you.” He had the tone of an elementary school principal. It was ridiculous. I’d long since outgrown that, no matter how childish I seemed.

  “That’s a bit of the pot and the kettle, isn’t it?” I couldn’t help it. I was tired of holding back.

  “I do not understand,” he said.

  “It doesn’t matter. But maybe this wouldn’t have happened if I’d been given the translator I’d been promised.” It was bullshit and I wasn’t going to take flack for that. If he wanted to yell at me about what I’d done in the class, fine, but it wasn’t all me either.

  He was quiet for a minute. I suspected this was Martin again, but I wasn’t totally sure. I’d only heard his voice once, so it wasn’t like I was all that familiar with it. It didn’t matter who it was, so long as they were from the Order.

  “According to my notes, you refused the translator,” he said.

  “What? I can tell you that’s a damn lie. Why would I put myself through four-hour classes of sitting and twiddling my thumbs for nothing?” They sure knew how to piss me off about right.

  He sighed. “It is certainly something to look into. For now, you’ll return to America. I will look into this personally.”

  “Oh, and Martin?” I was pretty damn sure it was him now.

  “Yes?”

  “I want a phone number where I can reach you. Now. No more of this email bullshit.” I wasn’t about to let him get away with it this time.

  He cleared his throat and rattled off the number. “Yes, with this new development, this is probably best.”

  “How long do I have before I’m fired?” I figured I might as well ask. It wasn’t like being an exorcist offered unemployment.

  “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know,” he said.

  He hung up then. I finished pacing. I didn’t even have the chance to tell Tabby about what had happened. One thing was sure—there was too much to do. My life was, once again, a mess. I was starting to think I liked it that way. Otherwise, I would be quiet and wouldn’t cause myself any more undue chaos.

  #

  I used the iPad to buy a ridiculously expensive ticket back to the US. Almost three thousand dollars, but it couldn’t be helped. At least I’d been smart enough to bring the Order’s card along with my own. If I was kicked out of the markers, or at least the organization, the paycheck would be gone and I’d have to jump through some serious hoops. There was no way I was going to ask Tabby to get a job. I was still able to work. She’d go back to school. She needed to finish anyway.

  The flight was set to leave at ten in the evening local time. I knew I’d better get out of the hotel before anything else was added to the bill. Lucy and I left the room and I checked out. Then, we went to a restaurant to get something to eat so I wouldn’t have to shell out any money on the plane. Besides, plane food kind of sucked.

  Once we were seated, I called Tabby.

  “Hello?” she asked.

  “Hey, can you pick me up at the airport tomorrow?”

  “Wait. What?” There was some sort of deepness emanating from her voice I hadn’t heard before.

  Maybe she had a cold. I sighed. “It’s a long story. Can you do it?”

  “Sure. What time?”

  “I think I should be landing in Charleston about two. I’ve got a layover in NYC.”

  “Okay. Keep me posted,” she said.

  “Will do.”

  I didn’t bother to mention that she had my cell phone, but surely someone or somewhere at JFK would let me send a text. A payphone was probably nonexistent. I hadn’t seen one of those in years.

  “What are you going to do now?” Lucy asked when I hung up the phone.

  “Probably hold my asshole tight. I’ll have to find a job if they fire me. It’s not like I can sue an organization that isn’t supposed to exist. They aren’t even part of the Vatican.” I set my phone down on the table. It was the truth. Even if I had to take a job at a restaurant or something, that was what I was going to have to do.

  “Maybe Doc will be back when we get home,” Lucy said.

  “I hope so. He’s good at ferreting out information.” And maybe he could figure out who had sabotaged me in the Order. Fucker.

  I ate quickly, and then called a cab. I knew getting through customs was going to take a while. This wasn’t like America. Here, they made you open everything. Thank God the only things I’d bought were some stuff for Lucy. Never did get around to buying Tabby something.

  Still, it wasn’t my fault that I didn’t learn anything from the class. Hopefully, Father Martin would be able to find out what had happened and be able to do something about it. Then, at least, I could maybe save my job.

  I wasn’t denying that I shouldn’t have done what I’d done. I’d been stupid. An adult would have sat there quietly and let the class go. I didn’t have the attention span for that. I knew I could be out doing something constructive instead of wasting my time. I’d wanted the class originally, but now that I knew it was worthless, I was wondering why the Order didn’t have their own class. It was odd.

  I’d already performed exorcisms. Granted they weren’t exactly successful, but the experienced exorcists couldn’t swear theirs would be either. Nobody could.

  I hunkered down in the security line to wait. It was going to be a long flight.

  #

  As I wandered through the JFK airport, I found myself humming the old Quiet Riot song, Bang Your Head. It fit my mood. Though it was probably ironic that an exorcist listened to rock music, but I was so far off the grid at this point it didn’t matter.

  Hell, I had a witch as a sidekick—though she’d probably kick my ass for calling her that, but oh well. It wouldn’t be the first time. In fact, she was kind of sexy when she got angry. I’d been away from her for too long.

  Was someone on the inside of the Order working with Big Red or his offspring? What had happened in Rome was too ridiculous. I could see, sure, no translator for the first class. But for someone to mark down that I said I didn’t need one? Bullshit. Especially when I had filled out the form in pen. They had had to make an effort to change it.

  There was a stink in the woodpile and I had to figure out what it was.

  #

  By the time I landed in Charleston, I was sleeping on my feet. Hell, if it hadn’t been for Lucy guiding me where to go, I would have gotten lost for sure. I probably should have tried harder to sleep on the flight, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it all. It was way worse than usual.

  I spotted Tabby in baggage claim. I ran over and picked her up off her feet. Shit, it was good to see her. Tired or not, I needed to feel her.

  She pulled away from me a little. Maybe I’d grabbed her too hard.

  “Damn,” she said.

  I kissed her. “What can I say? I missed you.”

  Her face stilled, but then she laughed. “Obviously.”

  I put her down.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked. “I could stop somewhere on the way home to get something to eat.”

  “Nah. All I want is the bed. Food comes later.”

  Tabby grunted. “I thought you would have missed me more than that.”

  Kind of odd for her to say that with the way she’d acted a bit ago, but whatever. I laughed. “More than you’ll ever know.”

  She wandered over to the luggage carousel and got my bag. Then we were on our way.

  #

  Truth was, I fell asleep in the car. I didn’t even make it out of the parking lot. Lucy had been saying something about Doc, and I was out. If I hadn’t been so tired, I would have felt bad about it.

  It was a bump that woke me up. Tabby was still driving on the interstate.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “Just a pothole.”

  She was staring intently at the road. She didn’t even turn her head to look at me.

  “Ahh,” I said.

  “You were snoring really loud,” Lucy said from the back seat.

  I laughed. “Proof as to how tired I was.”

  “Still sleepy, or do you want food?” Tabby asked.

  “Food would be good, but let’s wait till we’re closer to home.” I wanted to get to the point where I didn’t have to travel for a while.

  “I can do that,” she said. “Now, want to explain what’s going on?”

  I took a deep breath. “I may or may not be fired.”

  She made a weird noise that was almost the cross between one of Isaac’s sounds and a groan. “Okay…I’m confused already. You either are, or you aren’t.”

  “It’s complicated.” As if nothing wasn’t complicated with me, but whatever.

  “Obviously.”

  I sighed. “Apparently, some joker wrote down that I had refused the interpreter, which I didn’t. So that’s part of it. The puppets were all me.”

  “The what?” Her eyes grew wide and the corners of her mouth were moving up and down like she was trying not to laugh.

  Lucy giggled.

  Tabby might as well let it rip. I still thought it was funny.

  “These classes were like four hours long,” I said. “Think about it. The dude was too far away for the translation thing on the tablet to work, so here’s Lucy and me with four hours of droning. Every so often, the teacher would display a picture or play an audio clip, but other than that, it was like watching a foreign film without subtitles.”

  “Okay. But puppets?” Tabby asked.

  I chuckled. “It started out as doodling in my notebook. And, well, you can only do that for so long. Then, I made all these origami animals and was putting on a little play for Lucy when it all got quiet. I kind of got bawled out for being loud. I don’t think he could see the animals. Someone had to have ratted me out.”

  “Oh, Jimmy.” She snickered.

  “It gets worse.”

  I watched her roll her eyes.

  “How?” she asked.

  Lucy laughed.

  “Well, when the class got back to normal, I knew I couldn’t do animals again, so I pretended my Bible and the Roman Ritual were puppets.”

  She laughed. Hard. “Oh, Jimmy. You didn’t.”

  “Yep. Soon, Mr. Blowhard had book equivalents. I was totally doing the whole Parkay vs. butter routine. Lucy found it hilarious. I’m not sure how the teacher found out. Could be he noticed something odd from my desk. It wasn’t long before he came up there and caught me making my little tableau.”

  Tabby snorted.

  “Needless to say, he kicked me out of class. When I got back to the hotel, I got the phone call that my job was in jeopardy.”

  “I’m honestly not surprised and neither are you.” She laughed again. “So now what?”

  I shrugged. “Father Martin is going to see who’s been messing with my file. In the meantime, I go home. Don’t know anything else yet.”

  “When will you know?”

 

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