Abbey’s fear smelled like blood freezing rapidly in an angry mist of Freon gas. Her temples pounded as she realized she was out of Choco Banana Power Pushups. The tasty confections came in two varieties, one with vanilla bean sprinkles and one with real banana flake sprinkles.
She was out of both.
For any of the other Arctic Monkey Ice Cream trucks prowling the serene streets of Harrisonville's various residential areas, this situation would simply involve an apology and possibly a small discount on a different item. The Cocoa Monkey Banana Bar was similar, but arguably, not as good.
This created a problem for Abbey. One of her best customers was a woman named Angela who was positively addicted to the Choco Banana Power Pushup. No other item in the truck would do. Every day, on the corner of 3rd and Elm Street, usually around three o'clock, Angela would be waiting with an excited smile and a crisp two dollar bill in her gloved hand. She always wore exquisitely ornate, black gloves, even in the summer. Abbey had always been impressed with Angela's sense of fashion. In addition to the gloves, she always wore an elaborate cloak with a glorious, oversized, black hood which she sometimes wore over her head (casting the most dramatic and eerie shadow over her beautiful face), but usually wore down, draped symmetrically across her delicate shoulders. Angela's skin, in the sunlight was quite possibly the most beautiful thing Abbey had ever set her eyes on. The color was like a vibrant, easy gray that seemed to glow gently beneath a thin, translucent layer of amber. The first time Abbey encountered her, she thought the woman was wearing a porcelain mask of intricate construction. Over subsequent encounters, Abbey came to know that this was indeed Angela's face. Her almost alien complexion wasn't the only interesting thing about Angela. Every single time Abbey engaged with her, a powerful scent of fresh baked bread, dripping with butter and on rare occasions, a slight hint of cinnamon added in, would dominate the air around her. The smell always caused Abbey's mind to flood with the memories of loved ones taken by the grave and a couple of not so loved ones who had stayed around way too fucking long.
Abbey wasn't sure when she had accepted who Angela really was, she only knew that her fear of the woman was only slightly greater than the fascination she held for her. And today, Abbey was out of the woman's favorite frozen treat. It is with no small amount of terror that a mortal dares to offend a goddess, even by accident.
Abbey flamed up her, company issued iPad Pro and tapped past the Squareup POS menu to the application that connected her to the other trucks in the Arctic Monkey fleet. Somebody out there had to have a box of Choco Banana Power Pushups on hand. She sent a text out through the in-app messenger, asking if anyone had any. The replies began to flood in with comments like, "nope," "none here," "negatory," and the totally expected "fuck off boy-girl," from Brad Williams. There was an embarrassing history between Abbey and Brad and he was always unnecessarily rude with her. "How in the hell are we out of these damn things across the board?" Abbey wondered. A quick check in the inventory tab indicated disastrous news that the product was discontinued and no longer available. Abbey felt as if her insides were disconnecting and sinking into her thighs. "Holy shit..." she muttered as she looked up and out into the street beyond the truck's serving window.
"Hi Abbey!" Angela said, literally appearing out of nowhere.
Abbey was shocked. It took a moment for the witch's brew of adrenaline and bile to settle enough for her to speak. She was ready for this fucking day to be over.
"I need something different today, Beautiful," Angela said, then, "I need you to move the truck back a ways. Maybe like, half a football field."
Abbey stared at Angela for a second. The woman's hood was up, completely obscuring her face in deep shadow. Glancing down, she noticed that the delicate, lace-like patterns that covered Angela's black gloves were glowing green and blue. The aroma was different, too. The scent of brown sugar and apples baking with the slightest hint of sulfur chasing after, filled the warm autumn air around them.
"Like, now." Angela pushed.
"Right, no problem," Abbey answered. She quickly latched all the container tops and dropped the window cover. Fuck the awning. If Angela wanted the truck moved, Abbey was going to move it. With the urgency of a paramedic in action, Abbey maneuvered into the driver's seat, disengaged the parking brake and started the engine. She backed the truck up about seventy five yards and killed the motor. "Is this okay?" Abbey shouted, leaning her head out the driver side window.
"Better than perfect, my friend," Angela said softly, now sitting in the passenger seat next to Abbey.
"Holy fucking hell! How did you get in here like that?" Abbey squeaked through a failing throat full of shock.
"I thought I'd get out of the way, too," Angela said calmly as she looked at the intersection ahead.
Abbey turned to look in the same direction as Angela. Just a beautiful autumn day at the corner of 3rd and Elm.
"It's coming. Hey, do you listen to Kimbra? The singer?" Angela asked, still looking toward the intersection.
"I'm not familiar with her," Abbey replied, confused. She felt like she was fighting back a stroke.
Music suddenly filled the cabin of the truck. "Good Intent," by Kimbra slinked out of the truck's dashboard speakers as well as it's PA speakers. The music was loud, but not too loud. "I love this song!" Angela said with a hint of excitement in her lovely voice. She began to groove along to the song subtly as she continued to watch the intersection. The music, combined with Angela's movements helped Abbey ease down from the adrenaline high that had been crushing her. The song was pretty damn cool...
With barely enough time to return her eyes to the intersection, Abbey watched as a 2019 Ford Mustang GT, black with green and blue line graphics flew at an insane speed toward the intersection down 3rd Street. She noticed the green and blue lace lines along Angela's black gloves glow brightly. The lace patterns on her other glove were more of a yellow color, also glowing like a flame. Abbey returned her gaze to the intersection. A yellow, Lincoln Navigator was sliding like a torpedo down Elm street, toward the Ice Cream truck and accelerating to collide with the Mustang.
Angela clapped her hands together a heartbeat before the two vehicles became one mass of tangled destruction in the intersection.
The crash was the most terrifying thing Abbey had ever witnessed. Debris flew in every conceivable direction. A hubcap ricocheted off the windshield. She couldn't even blink at the devastation expanding in front of her. The Lincoln, smashed through the Mustang and came to rest atop a concrete bench about ten yards from the Ice Cream truck. The Mustang rolled several times, throwing off pieces of itself as it moved through the air to finally settle, upside down, somewhat farther away than the Lincoln's remains.
Some time passed, Abbey wasn't certain how much, before a man stumbled from the wrecked Lincoln Navigator. He struggled for a moment to remove something from the cab, then holding a ridiculously large handgun, staggered to the driver's side of the, now upside down, Mustang. The man knelt down, grabbed the mangled door and began to tug furiously at it. What was left of the door mechanism finally gave and the man was able to wrench it open.
Abbey looked over at Angela who was now eating a Lemon Dream Supreme bar (the expensive one with the plastic stick).
"I like these, too," Angela said through a smile. "Did you know they discontinued the Choco Banana Power Pushups?!" She added with an air of annoyance.
"I... just found out a little earlier," Abbey muttered, returning her eyes to the drama in front of the Ice Cream truck. "I was trying to find one for you..." Abbey almost whispered as she watched the man from the Lincoln drag the driver of the Mustang from the wreckage, place the barrel of the gun to the guy's head and began to shout for him to "wake the fuck up!" The semi conscious person on the ground began to stir. The man from the Lincoln fired his gun into the man's head, then fired two more shots into the man's chest. At this point the man from the Lincoln collapsed to the ground.
"Hop out Abbey. We've got to move quickly," Angela said calmly.
Abbey looked to Angela, but she was no longer in the truck. Her head grew light. She opened her door, got out and began walking toward the two men on the ground ahead. She noticed Angela was already there and moving toward the trunk of the upside down Mustang. As Abbey arrived, she noticed Angela running a hand along the trunk of the car. Abbey looked over at the two men, one breathing and one not, sprawled out on the ground beside her.
Angela surveyed the back side of the Mustang.
"Something interesting in the trunk?" Abbey asked.
"Very," Angela confirmed.
"We'll need a wrecker to get that open," Abbey said.
The man from the Lincoln began to stir.
"Well, you would need a wrecker, but we don't have time for that," Angela said as she raised her arms over the back of the Mustang. She turned her head to look at Abbey and moved her right hand to her back. "Check it out, one hand behind my back!" Angela said as she moved her left hand up. As she did so, the Mustang lifted up into the air, dirt, gravel and grass falling from it as it rose. "Stay," Angela instructed the car. She then motioned with her free hand to the trunk lid with a flip of her wrist. The trunk lid fell from the car to the ground with a dull thud, followed by a large, black, ABS plastic case.
"Damn it Angela, I had this..." the man from the Lincoln tried to shout through a mouth filling with blood.
"It's about time you came to, Mort," Angela said through a sinister grin. She then gestured with her left hand for the case to flick away from the Mustang hanging in the air. It obeyed, skipping like a stone across a pond, settling well away from the Mustang. Angela turned toward Abbey and Mort, the car crashing to the ground as she did so.
"You know each other?" Abbey asked Angela as she walked over to join her and the man she called Mort.
"Quite well. Mort here keeps me pretty busy," Angela smiled as she knelt down over the driver of the Mustang. She reached into the man's chest, grabbed something inside and stood suddenly, pulling what looked like a ghost version of the guy out of his body as she did so. "This is what a human soul looks like," Angela said as she held the vaporous spirit up into the light to inspect it closer. It twitched as if desperate for escape.
Abbey looked at Mort.
"Yeah, yeah, angels and shit. Weird as fuck, right?" Mort said, maneuvering into a sitting position with extreme and painful effort. Bones protested loudly with wet snaps as he moved. Hands bloodied from his injuries, he fumbled about his jacket pockets for his cigarettes. Finding them, he pulled one out and got it into his mouth when he realized his lighter was in the Navigator. He looked at Abbey. "Would you have a lighter, ma'am?"
Angela looked at the case she retrieved from the trunk of the Mustang. It was fascinating. The energy some humans would spend to kill each other was beyond her, even after millennia of collecting their souls in the aftermath. As she studied the case, she listened in on Mort and Abbey.
"I don't smoke," Abbey replied.
Still looking at the case, Angela raised a hand and snapped her fingers. As she did this, Mort's cigarette lit up.
Mort looked over at Angela. "Thanks, Angela," he said. "You're a good one."
"Whatever gets you closer to my collection, love," she replied through a smile. She rose and moved to join Abbey who was helping Mort to his feet. "You can't kill her, Mort," Angela said as she reached down to help Abbey lift the rattled man.
"Kill who, her?" Mort asked, pointing to Abbey. "I did get extra that covers eliminating witnesses," he added.
"Wait a fucking minute!" Abbey exclaimed as she quickly released Mort's arm, causing Angela to compensate for his weight.
"Mort, you can't kill her. Trust me, she knows how to keep a secret better than anyone," Angela said with complete authority. "She's my Ice Cream dealer and she's my friend. I've known her for a very long time," Angela explained as she helped Mort lean against the Ice Cream Truck. "In fact, I would propose that she could be an excellent asset in the field. You've been thinking about some extra income lately, haven't you Abbey?"
"I don't know. I sell Ice Cream and run the tickets and concessions at the Roller Derby. I'm not a killer," Abbey answered back.
Angela moved to Abbey, put her hand on Abbey's shoulder and with the other hand pulled back the hood of her cloak. Her beautiful skin faded away, only for a moment, to reveal a bleached skull, then her face faded back into place as she spoke. "You know that's not true, dear. You killed what you were, to be what you are. It wasn't exactly a choice, but that change is what drew me to you in the first place. The bravery it took for you to do that, the bravery it now takes for you to get out of bed everyday... Well, let's just say it takes an almost supernatural strength to do that and it got my attention. I am an angel of death, transition and change. I know what I'm talking about."
"I could think of about a dozen uses for an Ice Cream truck," Mort said between puffs of his cigarette. "Driver. Ice Cream truck driver," he corrected. "We could start by getting that asshole's body out of here before the cops get here. Angela here can stop and slow down time, but she'll be gone in a minute and reality normals will kick back in. I still need to make him disappear."
"The main freezer is big enough, but someone will have to pay for all the ice cream that I'll have to toss to make room," Abbey said to Mort.
"He's good for it," Angela smiled, sliding her arm around Mort's shoulder. "I'm assuming you want the case, too?"
"Hell yes, I want that damn case. That's what all this was about," Mort snorted.
"I'll get it," Abbey volunteered, moving quickly to retrieve the case. She grabbed it's handle, then nearly fell over from the unexpected weight of the thing. "Shit! What the fuck is in this thing that weighs so much?!" Abbey shouted as began dragging it toward the truck.
"Plutonium is pretty heavy, but the lead bottle that holds it sure doesn't help make things any lighter, I imagine," Mort offered as he began to lift himself into the passenger seat of the truck.
Angela slid next to Abbey and took the case by the handle. She lifted it easily and winked at Abbey. "Go clear out your freezer. I've got this. It won't explode. I fused the detonator." Angela pointed at her head as she said this, then added, "I used my magical brain powers!"
Abbey did as she was told and proceeded to her truck. All said and done, the door to a future of amazing sales days was just kicked open and she was totally okay with that.
E.H.
11/20/2019
