Chapter Thirty Six

Scroat’s flight back to Minnesota was long and boring. The passengers sitting near him on the plane were singularly dull, and he’d stopped trying to converse with them less than an hour into the trip.

He was stuck in the middle seat. The plane was pretty packed, so he couldn’t relocate to a different row with some more interesting company. He’d tried hanging out near the restrooms hoping for some social contact, but the flight attendants shooed him back to his seat. He’d read the in-flight magazine and Sky Mall repeatedly. As much as he wanted a countertop upside down hydroponic tomato garden, he wasn’t going to be able to play with it until he got home, so reading about it didn’t do him much good.

Scroat had never been good at sleeping on planes. Apart from the discomfort of the seats, and the noise, the smell of the airplanes just bothered him. He was relieved none of the other passengers in his immediate area were wearing a ton of fragrance, but all the same he would have liked something to cover up the smell of recycled air. His seatmates didn’t seem like the types to participate in a fart-off, either.

By the thirteenth hour of the flight, Scroat was about ready to try hijacking the plane just to alleviate the boredom.

He did eventually reach Minnesota (after about 20 hours of travelling, all told), and he’d never been happier to get off a plane some place cold and snowy. After a stop in the men’s room, he went to one of the airport payphones, and called Cyrus’s house.

Sarah answered the phone. For the time being, Hep, Scroat and Sarah were the only ones who knew Cyrus was dead, but someone was bound to figure it out sooner or later, and she was worried about what would happen if that person called. But, at the same time, they were expecting a call from Scroat when he arrived, so she couldn’t just ignore the phone.

“Hello?” she said.

“Hey, baby, I’m back,” Scroat said.

“Scroat! I could kill you!” Sarah said.

“Hey, don’t do that. I’ll wake up in fucking Australia again, and I didn’t enjoy the flight home so much that I want to do it again,” Scroat said.

“You should have stayed here,” Sarah said.

“Well, I tried to, but you told me to leave,” Scroat said.

“You shouldn’t have wanted to go in the first place!” Sarah said.

“Are you high?” Scroat said. “Of course I wanted to go. Then I wanted to stay, but somebody didn’t want me to. So I left. Then I got killed. Now I’m back. This is a good thing, remember?”

“You’re a dick,” Sarah said.

“Damn straight. Is Hep there?” Scroat said.

“Yeah,” Sarah said, and dropped the phone. Scroat pulled the handset away from his ear until the clattering noises stopped.

“Scroat?” Hep said.

“Yeah, man. I’m back,” Scroat said. “Can you come get me?”

“Uh, no, Scroat. The car blew up. Remember? Take a damn cab,” Hep said. “See you soon!”

Hep hung up the phone then.

“Fucking dick,” Scroat said, and hung up the phone.


Scroat arrived back at Cyrus’s house about an hour later. By the time he had gotten out of the cab and on to the sidewalk, Sarah had come running out of the house.

“You son of a bitch!” she yelled.

Scroat turned to see five feet and seven inches of Sarah flying through the air towards him. She knocked him to the ground, and smothered him with kisses.

“You’re not allowed to die again, do you hear me?” she said.

“Yeah, loud and clear. No more dying for me,” Scroat said, and laughed.

They got up again after a minute or two of rolling around in the sticky, heavy snow, and went into Cyrus’s house. Hep was sitting on the couch reading a motorcycle magazine when they got inside.

“Hey, dumbass, how was the flight?” Hep said.

“It sucked shit right out of a pig’s asshole,” Scroat said.

“You gotta quit getting yourself killed. It’s really an inconvenience,” Hep said.

“Are you telling me?” Scroat said. “So what’s going on here?”

“Well, I’m trying to figure out how to get Cyrus out of Hell,” Hep said.

“Any good tips in that magazine?” Sarah asked.

“Tons, None of them really apply to this particular situation, however,” Hep said.

“How’s your plan coming along, then?” Scroat asked.

“Well, so far I’m stuck at the part where we somehow get into Hell. I figure we can play the rest by ear,” Hep said.

“What’s this ‘we’ shit?” Sarah asked. “Scroat is staying right here.”

“Yeah, I didn’t mean him, anyway. I’d hate to mess up your thing by keeping him wrapped up in Hell for a few decades,” Hep said.

“Decades?” Sarah asked.

“Yeah, time as you know it doesn’t really apply in Hell. I might get back in five seconds, or in a few hundred years,” Hep said.

Sarah looked at Scroat, “You are so not going.”

“OK, you’ve sold me,” Scroat said.

“So who is ‘we’?” Sarah asked.

“Well, me and Ares. Who did you think?” Hep said.

“I don’t know, Hep. Ares might get a little too into the job, don’t you think?” Scroat asked.

“Nah, I think in this case his unique passion will come in quite handy,” Hep said.

“So when are you leaving?” Scroat asked.

“Well, now that you’re back here, I guess we’ll leave as soon as he gets here,” Hep said.

“And when is get going to get here?” Scroat asked.

“When is who going to get here?” Ares asked, with a big grin. “Uh oh, my ears are burning.”

“Hey Ares. Do you want a drink or anything before we go?” Hep asked Ares.

“Hell yeah! How about a beer?” Ares answered.

“No beer. Want some water?” Hep asked.

“Aw, fuck. Yeah, ok, I guess since we’re bound for a hotter climate,” Ares said.

Hep got Ares and himself a couple of big glasses of water from the kitchen.

“So, I hear you got killed too Scroat,” Ares said. “How did that work out for you?”

“Well, I’m back here in this fucking cold-ass state, so I guess the effects weren’t permanent this time,” Scroat said.

Hep finished his water.

“Are you ready to go?” Hep asked Ares.

“I’m always ready to go,” Ares said.

“So, uh, you guys probably shouldn’t stay here too much longer,” Hep said to Sarah and Scroat. “Cyrus didn’t give us the house or anything, and someone is going to notice he’s gone sooner or later.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll catch up with you back in Arizona, Hep,” Scroat said.

“Or, not,” Sarah said. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Hep said.

“Don’t need it,” Ares said. “I’m all over this one.”