Sid, Ombudsman of Hell

[joegoda]

There were only two people in Harry's Halfway Inn when Sid and Virgil stepped through the doors. The lights were still as bright, and the air was still as clear. Virgil took a deep breath and came back up coughing.

"Virgil!" Harry's voice brayed from behind the bar. "I'll be dipped. So they did find you, eh? I wasn't sure if it would be you, or if it would be some other Virgil." Harry came stuck out his hand, which Virgil clasped in the manner of old friends. "What'll it be? Same old swill?"

Virgil nodded and smiled broadly, patting his coat and sending clouds of dust into the air. "Say, Harry, I've got a serious case of road stink. Do the showers still work?"

"Out back, Virgil," Harry thumbed the direction. "I'll have your swill ready when you get back."

"Thanks, Harry. Take care of my buddy here, okay?" Virgil clapped a hand on Sid's shoulder. It's on Siggy's tab."

"Do not call me Siggy, Harry!" A booming voice rose from across the room as Virgil made his way around the bar and out a back door that hadn't been there a moment ago. "He knows not to call me Siggy," Siegfried rumbled. "My name is Siegfried Von..." Sig's voice faded away briefly. "Von..."

"Hammerschmitt?" Harry offered.

"Yes! Siegfried Von Hammerschmitt!" Siegfried clapped his hands in acknowledgment. "That is my name, Harry! Do not wear it out!"

Harry was behind the bar, and Sig was sitting at his seat, back near the Juke Box. Sig had propped his feet up on his table and he had appeared to be asleep until he was awoken by Virgil's generosity.

Harry was polishing his glasses after Virgil went out the back door. He sat his current glistening project on the bar, disappeared behind the bar and with a hiss and a pop, came back up with a brown bottle. The liquid that poured out was green and foamy.

Harry winked at Sid. "It's not really swill. It's a limeade cocktail with a dash of spirits," he confided to Sid. "Nobody else will drink it, which is good, because it's only here when Virgil comes in." He looked over Sid's shoulder and nodded in that direction. "Where's Justin? Did you get him fixed already? That was pretty fast."

"No," Sid said, "things got a bit... complicated." Sid slid onto a bar stool, as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the bottle with the two specks of light in it. "Ever see something like this, Harry?"

Harry wiped his hands on his green vest. He came over and picked up the bottle. "Hmmm," he said. "Unless I'm mistaken, this is one of my bottles." He squinted an eye at Sid. "You're not supposed to take my bottles, Sid. No harm done, though." He started to put the bottle back behind the bar, when Sid stopped him.

No, Harry," Sid said. "Look inside the bottle."

"Inside?" Harry lifted the bottle's mouth to his eye and squinted. "I don't see... wait a minute." He pulled the bottle back and raised his bushy eyebrows at Sid. "What the heck are they?"

Sid shrugged. "I think you're looking at Justin's... um... soul." He said the word sheepishly. "Yeah, I know. Essence? Energy? Beats me. Soul is the only thing I could come up with that fits. Any chance I could get a beer?"

"Justin's soul, huh?" Harry put the bottle back to his eye. "I remember catching lightning bugs when I was a kid. I didn't put 'em in a beer bottle though." Without looking at what he was doing, he reached under the bar with his free hand and pulled up a bottle of beer and placed it before Sid. "How come there's two of them?"

Sid popped the top on his bottle, took a drink, wiped his lips and asked, "You know that pedicab driver, Betty?"

"No," Harry said. "But I don't get out much."

"Blonde? 'Bout so Tall?" Sid indicated Betty's height with his hand. "Nice eyes, pretty smile, dynamite... um... voice?"

"Nope." Harry put the bottle on the bar top. "If I had, I certainly would have remembered it." He leaned in closer to Sid and whispered, "Part of my punishment is that I can't leave this place. Ever. Keep it under your hat, though."

"Uh huh," Sid said. "Well, there's two of them in there. Justin and Betty. I think. Ever heard of anyone having their soul pulled out of their body?"

"Nope." Harry shook his head. "That sounds like something only a high power demon might do. If you can find one of them, you might ask them." He chuckled. "Good luck with that, though." Harry gave the bottle back, and Sid put it in his pocket. "Yeah, this time I saw you do it," Harry said. "When you're done with this, I want it back, okay?"

Just so happens that I know a demon like that, Sid thought. I'd just not like to get Hydra involved in this, though. Who knows where that might lead.

"Huh. Thanks, Harry." He rubbed the side of his nose. He had quietly turned his attention to his beer when Virgil came back.

Virgil definitely smelled better. His hair was incredibly shaggy, and worn in long dark curls that ran like a bunch of hairy slinkys around his head and down his shoulders. It didn't stop there, though. Virgil was hairy all over, arms, legs, chest and back. Sid could tell this because the man was standing at the corner of the bar, dripping water and was completely naked. He had a towel, but he was busy using it on places that didn't leave anything to the imagination.

Sid let out a "Yelp!" when Virgil appeared and became very engrossed in his beer.

"Man," Virgil said, drying his ears, "that feels so much better! Why is it the only decent water pressure I can find is here in Hell?"

"It's imp-powered," Harry explained. "I won them in a bet I had a few years ago. And then there's Justin. Things just work better when he's around."

"Sid show you the two in the bottle?" Virgil asked, toweling off his backside.

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "Beats the heck out of me. Never saw anything like 'em." He turned to Sid. "You sure they're who and what you think they are?"

A leathery rustle came from Sid's right. He ignored the sound and focused on Harry. He didn't want to see if Virgil was changing into some sort of bat-winged creature. He had too many shocks to his system already. It wouldn't have surprised him, though.

"No, I'm not sure of anything right now." Sid put the empty bottle on the bar. "Give me another, Harry?"

Harry reached under the bar and brought another bottle up. "Remember what you said earlier, Sid. You haven't had anything to eat or drink since you got to Hell. Go easy, okay? I'd not like to have Sig toss you out for drunkenness."

Sid nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Just wonderful. I started out this day doin' crosswords, and ended up with two spirits in a bottle and an three hundred year old Investment banker. If I get tossed out by Siggy, it'll just be the perfect topper to the day."

A dark and leathered hand reached for the glass of swill next to Sid. He swiveled his head to look at the hand and realized it was a glove. He followed the glove up to the leather covered arm which was connected to the shoulder which lead to a grinning face. Virgil was dressed in full biker leather. From neck to toes he wore leather, gleaming and crackling and black. He turned around to show the colors embroidered on the back. The letters above the grinning and winged skull read "Hell's Angels"

Sid just snorted and said, "Figures."

Virgil took a long drink of the swill and put the empty glass back on the bar. "You didn't think I was going to lead you through the levels of Hell dressed like Freddie the Freeloader, did you?" He stretched the leather at his shoulders, making it stretch and groan. "Besides, I like leather. It's easy to clean. I only have to feed it once a week."

Virgil reached down beside him and pulled up a black leather backpack. He started pulling things out if, verbally checking off each item as they came out. "Camel's hump for water. Transit. Surveyors chalk. Compass. Soul tracker..."

"Wait," Sid interrupted. "What's a soul tracker?"

"It's a demonic device to find a specific soul," Virgil said off handedly. "It's like the compass I showed you, but it can be tuned to a specific soul. Only one, though. The compass can point to at least three, as we've seen."

"Can it tell us if these things in the bottle are really the souls of Justin and Betty?"

"I don't see why not," Virgil said. "You have anything that belonged to him? Some protoplasm or maybe a bit of hair from his corpse?"

"No," Sid admitted sadly.

"Well, we'd need something from the person to tune the tracker." Virgil showed the tracker to Sid. "See, you open it up here." He slid open a small triangular compartment, pulled a crucifix from his backpack and dropped it in. The little triangular door closed with a click and the tracker began to hum.

"What I put in there was the crucifix that belonged to the priest you guys are trying to find." Virgil saw the look of surprise on Sid's face. "What? You thought I didn't know? I try to find out everything there is to know about my people. Which reminds me, you sure that woman's name is Betty?"

"That's what she said."

Virgil gave Sid an intense glance, as if checking for weevils in the flour.

"Hey, don't look at me like that," Sid said defensively. "You know I can't lie."

Virgil no longer looked like some bum sitting at a bus station. He looked dangerous, with his black shoulder length curls and his freshly shaven square face. His eyes were black as two lumps of coal and his sideburns almost covered the entire side of his face. A moment went by and he smiled; the bright and even teeth of a cougar before it went on a midnight snack run.

"Okay, Betty it is." Virgil clapped Sid on his shoulder, which almost spilled the bottle Sid was holding. "If we find out different, don't be surprised, though. All women have secrets, Sid. This one's probably no different."

The humming tracker bleeped suddenly. "Okay," Virgil nodded. "It's ready. Look." He held the device up for Sid to see.

The tracker looked like a label gun. The type that make labels that come out in a long strip. You dialed the letter, squeezed the trigger and the word came out on a plastic and adhesive strip. This label gun didn't have a dial and it didn't have a trigger and it didn't spit out a plastic adhesive strip with the words "Mom's Books" on it.

It did have a round face and a handle to grip it by. The round face had the name of the priest, "Peter Michael" displayed on it in big black letters on a glowing green background. Under his name the tracker also displayed his location; "Sixth Level - Heretic"

"See?" Virgil pulled the tracker out of Sid's vision and put it in his backpack. "Sixth Level." He sighed. "It's not gonna be a fun trip, Sid. If it had been the fourth or even the fifth, okay. Those aren't so bad. The worse we have to work with would be ice or mud. Maybe Cerberus, but he's a pussycat, really. The sixth is where things start to get hot. Literally. The sixth level is the first level contained inside the walls of Dis, a Hellish city without plumbing. Fallen angels guard the walls of Dis. Not gonna be easy to get past." Virgil turned to Harry. "'Nother swill, Harry."

Virgil started loading up his backpack and that reminded Sid of something. "Harry," he asked, "Did I leave my briefcase here?"

"Yep, sure did. I found it sitting right over by Sig." Harry ducked under the bar and pulled up Sid's briefcase. "I gotta ask you something, though. What the hell is that really ugly ball of legs you have in it?"

"You opened it?" Sid asked, shocked. He opened the case and checked to see if anything was missing.

"Well, yeah!" Harry said defensively. "I had to find out whose it was, didn't I? I didn't get very far, though. Your whateveritis almost took off my arm. Besides, Sid, stealing is a sin, remember? A biggie. You think I want to end up on level eight with a constant case of snake bite? No thank you very much."

The Woebie sat, calmly in the briefcase, and looked back at Sid. Everything looked to be in order. The red folder was there, which was the important thing. The Woebie would be heck to replace, but it could be done. The red folder? That was a whole different story. If he lost that, there would be Hell to pay.

Harry was furiously polishing his mugs. "Besides...." Harry cast a glance over at Virgil, who was sipping, rather than swigging his swill. Harry leaned in close and whispered, "Besides, you and me got business when you get back, remember?"

Business? Sid searched his memory. Oh yeah. Harry's trumped up charge of betraying The Big Guy. He nodded seriously at Harry. "Yes, Harry," Sid whispered back. "I remember. Sig comes first, though. Clients are taken in the order the come."

Harry stared at Sid for a moment or two, then broke in to a broad smile and laughed. His red hair caught the lights and for a second he looked like his head was on fire. "Well, what of it, Sid? I've waited this long, I can wait a bit more."

"Wait for what?" Virgil asked.

"Wait for you two to get the heck out of my bar." Harry said, his laugh fading quickly, but his smile remaining. "You've taken up enough of my time away from my valuable customers. Get out of here, you two. You're stinking up the joint."

Harry dropped the mug he had been polishing next to the other sparking mugs and picked up a crystal parfait glass, which he immediately started rubbing with his bar towel.

"Besides," he said, "I want Justin back in one piece. The ice cream is starting to go bad. It's beginning to taste like pine tar seasoned with cedar."

"Cedar!" Sid pulled the speck bottle out of his pocket, put it up to his nose, and inhaled deeply.

Virgil looked at Harry, who just shrugged his shoulders. "Beats me, Virgil. I just sell it, I don't drink it. And I certainly don't snort it."

Sid ignored them, and sniffed again. Was that it? Just barely, maybe. On the edge of something that smelled... blond. He sniffed again. Maybe. But maybes were enough. He already learned that by maybeing the bottle containing the specks into his pocket. Maybe would be enough.

"Yes!" He looked at the two men, who were staring at him. "See... Justin smelled like cedar when he first came to my office. Now I know it's him." He nodded like a madman. "And I did it without any doohickey!" He clapped his hands. No Edra, no demonic stuff... just his nose. It's the little victories that sometimes count the most.

Harry looked at Virgil, who looked back at Harry.

"Uh huh," Harry said.

"Good enough for me, Harry," Virgil shrugged. "I've seen weirder things." He placed a gloved hand on Sid's shoulder. "Let's blow this joint." Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out his Surveyor's Chalk.

"Harry, can I use your floor for a second?"

Harry leaned over the bar, as far as his stature would let him. A look of concern crossed his face. "Why? What're you gonna do?"

"I need to draw a door. It'll just be there until we're gone." Virgil crossed his heart. "I promise."

Harry shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me, as long as I don't have to clean it up."

"You're going to draw a door?" Sid asked. "What good will a drawn door do?"

Virgil nodded at Harry. "Thanks buddy." To Sid, he said, "Do I ask you how you do your job? How else do you think you're going to get to the next level? There aren't exactly convenient elevators, you know."

"I thought there were gates or something," Sid said.

"Oh, there's gates," Virgil nodded. "We just don't want to have to use 'em. This is faster."

"Why don't we want to use the gates?"

Virgil gave his 'moron' stare to Sid again. "Because I'm not dead," he said finally, "and I don't like to forcibly argue with those that are. Those that are dead tend to do nasty things to those of us that aren't. I didn't live all these years and not learn a few tricks."

He knelt where he stood, his leather pants creaking. He drew the broad outline of a door, including the doorknob on the plank floor boards. When he was satisfied, he put the chalk back into his backpack and rummaged around in it for a second. With that grunt that means he had found what he was looking for, he pulled out a lump of brass. He showed it to Harry and Sid. It was a grinning gargoyle's head with a ring in its mouth.

"Door knocker," Virgil said, grinning. "I never leave home without one."

He placed the door knocker on the floor, on the spot of the drawn door where the doorknocker would be if the door had been real and had been upright. He stood up, stretched his back, and grunted. "I wasn't kidding about the back. Ow."

Then Virgil knelt once more, lifted the ring of the doorknocker and let it drop. Nothing happened, except a dull thud as the ring hit the floor. He lifted the ring again, and this time when he dropped it, the sound was different. It was more hollow, but still dull as if it had been dropped on a box full of packing peanuts. The third time the ring hit the floor Virgil hopped away from the drawing of the door. The sound was deep and dark and sonorous, echoing far and away.

The lines drawn on the floor glowed briefly, like a hot wire, and then... sunk... into the wood of the floor, leaving deep grooves where the drawn lines had been. The picture of the doorknob had also taken on a red glow, stretching up and out and away from the floorboards. It rounded out and formed an old style brass doorknob, waiting to be pulled.

Virgil stood again, smiling. "Third time is always a charm." He picked up the doorknocker where it lay and stuffed it back into his backpack.

"You sure that's going to fade away when you're gone?" Harry asked with concern.

"Harry, Harry, Harry." Virgil smiled with the smile of happily hanged. "Trust me. You won't even know we were here." He reached down and grasped the doorknob. He turned it and with another wicked smile at the two men, who just stared, he pulled the door open.

A strong and fierce wind blew up at them. It was not a hot wind and it was not a cold wind. It was just strong. Paper napkins that Harry had on the bar took wing and flew around the room, tossed by the gale that came from the gaping hole.

Sid stepped cautiously forward and looked into the floor where moments before floor boards sat. There was a steep staircase, going down into the darkness. He looked over at Virgil.

"You sure this is safe?" He asked with a gulp in his voice. The wind caught the tails of his suit jacket and threatened to wrap it around him.

"Safe as anything can be, here," Virgil said assuredly. "Safer. I'll go first, because I am, you know, the guide and all." He plucked his backpack from the bar and shrugged into it. "Just follow my tail, you'll be fine." He dropped into the hole in the floor.

"You don't really have a tail, do you?" Sid wasn't so sure.

Virgil looked back up from the fourth step down. "Ha ha ha. You are one funny guy, Sid." He pulled an old and battered Zippo lighter from his leather jacket. He flicked it to life and the light from the Zippo fled before him, showing a passage leading down, and further down.

"Come on, scaredy cat. If they don't know we're coming, then they won't know where to look, right? There's nothing on this level that's going to eat you, anyway." Virgil continued on his path down the stairs.

Sid put one foot into the descending hole and watched as Virgil quickly trotted down the staircase. "Hold on! Wait a bit!" he called out.

Virgil stopped and looked back. "Hurry up! The door won't hold forever."

"Sid!" Harry's voice called from the bar. He had to yell in order to be heard over the sound of the wind whistling in Sid's ears.

Sid turned. "What?" He yelled back.

"Give me back my bottle!" When Sid glanced down at his pocket, Harry laughed. "Not that one! The one in your hand!"

"Oh!" So enthralled had Sid been at seeing Virgil's handiwork, and so shaken was he by the journey he was about to undertake, he had forgotten about the bottle in his hand. He had a clench on it like a death grip. He tossed it to Harry. "Catch!" Harry snagged it neatly out of the air.

"Sid!" Harry yelled again.

"What now?" Sid was starting to lose his nerve and wanted to get this over with.

"Good luck!" Harry yelled, polishing a serving platter. "And come back!"

"Thanks!" Sid nodded and tossed his hand at Harry. "I'll need it."

After his head had passed the level of the floor, the door flipped up on its own volition and crashed down, closing up the hole. Within seconds the doorknob and the door's outline had faded into tiny wisps of dingy smoke, leaving the bare, clean floorboards behind.

Siegfried got up from his chair and came over to Harry. The two men just stared at the spot where Sid and Virgil had dropped out of sight, just moments before.

"Give me some swill, Harry?" Sig asked. "It's on Virgil's tab."

Harry just laughed.

Comments

[joegoda.livejournal.com]

Harry who?

I'll have you know, my darling sis, that this was a very hard chapter to write.

One, my goofy eyes were not happy. You would have been Momma Hen clucking if you saw me put my specs on, work about 10 minutes, then, when my head had elevated to the point where I was staring at the ceiling (see, my bifocals are magnifying at the bottom), I would take my specs off and gradually creep up to the screen. That wasn't the hard part... that was just annoying.

The hard part is I had no idea what to do here. I didn't really intend to have the story return back to the Halfway Inn. I didn't really intend for Virgil to become this big, bad, biker of a soul searcher. I didn't really intend for Justin and Betty to become little specks of soul-light in a beer bottle.

So, like I do when I don't know where I am and where I'm going, I just flipped a coin and let the story drive itself. I'm surprised there is any continuity in it AT ALL. In fact, it was SID that reminded me that he had left his Briefcase back at the Inn. It was Virgil who tapped on my head and said "I need that shower and, btw, I have Surveyor's chalk." It was Harry who reminded me that I needed to make sure that Sid took the RIGHT bottle, rather than the wrong bottle. Otherwise, bad things would have happened.

I absolutely refuse to believe that these characters don't exist somewhere, other than in my head.

[capi.livejournal.com]

*grin*

Well, why not? Of course you believe in them! You're their MOTHER! *grin*

[journiey.livejournal.com]

Hey Capi Hon? Is That Mother Or Motha?? Heeheehee

[capi.livejournal.com]

Journiey!! I been wondering how you are doing!! How you doin', woman??!! Is that card empty yet? *grin* If not, why the heck not? *grin* (((HUG))) Missin' hearin' your sweet voice, woman!

[journiey.livejournal.com]

I Hain't Said Nuttin Acause I Don't Knowd Nuttin, I Has Ta Goes Back In 2 Weeks Ter Hear Tah Resultings O' My Various Testies, Includifyin Blud Wurk And A MamOwGram, But My Blud Pressurifyins Was Gud 120 Over 80. Das Alla Knowd.



The Doctor Is WONDERFUL In Fact The Whole Staff Is. I Feel I Can Work With Her Quite Well. She Read ALL The Notes I Gave Her Including The One From My Therapist And The One On HAES (Health At{http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Health_at_Every_Size} Every Size) She Is Going To Get Me In To See A Surgeon, An Ob/gyn, A Derm, An Eye Doctor, And Various Other Specialists. If She CAN Get Me In That Means Medicaid Will Cover Most Of It Which Is Good.

Nope, My Card Isn't Empty :). I've Been Using It Sparingly And Have A Little More Then Half Left. It Has Been A HUGE Help. Medicaid Doesn't Cover Chiropractors, Or Over The Counter Meds, And I Take Several. These Are Things Medicaid WOULD Cover, If There Weren't OTCs Available, But Since There Are, The Medicaid Folk Feel That All Meds Work On All Folks And They Shouldn't Have To Pay For 'Scripts, Since OTC Are Available. This Is Actually Okish In General (But Not In Principal) Since There Are Now Alternatives To Claritin D On The OTC Market. In Other Words, Claritin D Doesn't Work For Me But, Zyrtec D Does, As Well As Prilosec OTC Working For My Nervous Tummy. WHEW! lol Okies I'm Done. :D

[capi.livejournal.com]

Ah!! There's a lot here! And... are you feeling some better, dear?

[journiey.livejournal.com]

Ah No, But I Have Hope.

[capi.livejournal.com]

Ah.... i am sorry you are not feeling better; capi knows how THAT is. But i am delighted (!!!!!!) that you have hope! Capi also knows about THAT!!

YAY for HOPE!!!!! (A good doctor is a wonderful thing!!)

*happy dancing* Loving you!!

[journiey.livejournal.com]

Loving You Right Back My Sweet! Here's Hoping You Have A DELIGHTFUL And Renewing Time At The Cabin. < 3

[journiey.livejournal.com]

*Unlady Like Snort* Harry Who Indeed! Never The Less, I'm Enjoying Sids Adventures So Very Much My Darling. Reading Your Stuff And Being Your Friend Has Been A Highlight In My Life.:)

[joegoda.livejournal.com]

Sid, oddly enough, is an offshoot that a friend and I had that started like this: "What if Jesus and Buddha met in a pub? Jesus would be all bummed to see how his message was being perverted. Buddha... well, Buddha would just be constantly and happily stoned."

I'm glad you're liking it, Dear one! Glad that your medical issues are being taken care of, regardless of the speed.