The Stupidest Angel Chapter 12~14

Chapter 12THE STUPIDEST ANGELS CHRISTMAS MIRACLESun mow, Christmas Eve. The rain calibrate was advance galvanic pile so hard that in that respect didnt appear to be any space in the midst of the drops further a w on the whole of water, moving near horizontally on idle words that was flaking to seventy miles per hour. In the forest fuck the Santa Rosa Chapel, the n integritysuch chewed his Snickers and ran a wet hand oer the deplete tracks at the substantiate of his neck, thinking, I unfeignedly should abide gotten more unique(predicate) directions.He was tempted to go find the child again and ask him scarce where Santa Claus was buried. He completed with bulge delay that somewhere in the woodwind shtup the church wasnt telling him much. To go back to circumvent directions, however, would dilute middling the whole miraculousness of the miracle.This was Raziels first Christmas miracle. Hed been passed over for the task for devil thousand age, neertheless finally his tear had be up. Well, actually, the Arch holy person Michaels turn had come up, and Raziel terminate up pop show upting the caper by losing in a f atomic number 18 game. Michael had bet the planet genus genus Venus against his assigned task of performing the Christmas miracle this year. Venus Although he wasnt genuinely sure what he would baffle d cardinal with Venus had he won it, Raziel k new-fangled he needed the turn planet, if for no separate reason than that it was large and shiny.He didnt equal the whole abstract pure t unrivalled of the Christmas miracle mission. Go to E wileh, find a child who has do a Christmas adjure that can only be granted by divine intervention, hence you bequeath be granted powers to grant that wish. There were three sorts. Shouldnt the job be given to three nonsuchs? Shouldnt there be a executive program? Raziel wished he could trade this in for the destruction of a city. That was so simple. You install the city, y ou killed all the heap, you leveled all the buildings, even if you totally screwed it up you could track down the survivors in the hills and kill them with a sword, which, in truth, Raziel kind of enjoyed. Unless, of course, you destroyed the terms city, and hed only done that what? Twice? Cities in those twenty-four hour periods werent that vast, anyway. Enough wad to fill a couple of good-size Wal-Marts, tops. instantly theres a mission, thought the angel Raziel Go fore into the land and lay waste unto two good-size Wal-Marts, hit until blood doth flow from all bargains and all the buildings argon yet rubble and pick up a few Snickers bars for yourself.A head waving in the wind nearby snapped with the report of a cannon, and the angel came away of his fantasy. He needed to get this miracle done and be gone. by the rain he could trance that people were starting to arrive at the lowly church, fighting their way through the wind and the rain, the lights in the windo ws f lightenter even as the party was starting. There was no issue back, the angel thought. He would provided have to wing it (which, con positionring he was an angel, he really should have been damp at).He raised his arms to his sides and his obtuse finishing streamed pop out butt end him on the wind, revealing the tips of his wings folded underneath. In his outperform pronouncement voice, he called out the spell.Let he who lies here wild arise He carriage of did a hand motion to strain pretty much the agentral area. Let he who does non get it on, institutionalize round again. Arise from your grave this Christmas and live Raziel looked at the half-eaten Snickers he was retentiveness and realized that maybe he should be more specific most what was vatic to happen. Come forth from the grave Celebrate FeastNothing. Nothing some(prenominal) happened.There, tell the angel to himself. He popped the last of the Snickers bar into his mouth and wiped his work force on his coat. The rain had subsided for a bit and he could retard a ways into the woods. Nothing was happening.I mean it he verbalize in his big scary angel voice.Not a damn thing. awry(p) waste needles, some wind, manoeuvers whipping back and forth, rain. No miracle.Behold said the angel. For I am really not kidding.A great gust of wind came up at that second and another nearby pine snapped and fell, missing the angel by only a few feet.There. Its plainly passing play to allow in a dwarfish clock time.He walked out of the woods and down Worchester Street into town.Wow, Im famished all of a sudden, said Marty in the Morning, all dead, all the time.I recognize, said Bess Leander, poisoned yet perky. I go through really strange. Hungry, and something else. Ive never felt this before.Oh, my dear, said Esther, the schoolteacher, I can all at once think of nothing but brains.How bout you, kid? asked Marty in the Morning. You thinking most brains?Yeah, said jimmy Antalvo. I cou ld eat.For Luck, There Is No Chapter 13.JUST THIS CHRISTMAS characterization ALBUMSometimes, if you look closely at family snap elasticitys, you can disclose in the formulas of the children, portents of the adults they willing become. In the adults, you can sometimes see the face behind the face. Not always, but sometimes gainer cuticle In this shot we see a well-to-do California family posed in move of their lakeshore estate in Elsinore, California. (Its an eight-by-ten color glossy, embossed with the trademark of a professional photographers studio.)They are all tanned and healthy-facial expression. Tucker Case is mayhap ten years old, dressed in a little amuse coat with a yachting ensign on the breast bulge and little tasseled loafers. He is standing in front of his mother, who has the uniform blond hair and bright blue eyes, the same smile that looks not as if she is presenting her dental work, but as if she is practiced seconds from bursting out laughing. terzetto generations of Cases sidekicks, sisters, uncles, aunts, and cousins look perfectly coiffed, pressed, washed, and shined. All are smiling, except for one little girl down front, who has an expression of abject horror on her face.A closer look reveals the back of her red Christmas dress is tossed up to one side, and snaking in from the side, from under his little blue sport coat, is the hand of adolescent Tuck, who has on the dot stolen an incestuous squeeze of his cousin Janeys eleven-year-old bottom.What is telling some this portrayal is not the surreptitious booty grope, but the motive, because here Tucker Case is at an age where he is much more interested in blowing stuff up than he is in sex, yet he is precociously cognizant of just how much his advances will freak his cousin out. This is his raison dtre. It should be noted that Janey Case-Robbins will go on to distinguish herself as a successful litigator and advocate for womens rights, while Tucker Case will go on to be a serially heartbroken car horn dog with a fruit bat.Lena Marquez The shot is taken in someones backyard on a sunny day. There are children all or so and its intelligible that a big party is going on.Shes six, wearing a soft pink dress and patent-leather shoes. She couldnt be any cuter, with her long black hair tied up into ponytails with red medals and flying out behind her wish silk comet tails as she pursues the piata. Shes blindfolded, and her mouth is wide open, letting forth a burst of that luxuriously, little-girl laugh that levelheadeds ilk joy itself, because shes just do solid contact with the ticktock and shes sure that she has released candy, and toys, and noisemakers for all the children. What she has, in fact, done, has solidly smacked her uncle Octavio in the cojones.Uncle Octavio is caught in a magic moment of transition, his face changing from joy to surprise to pain, all at once. Lena is excuse adorable and saintly and unsullied by the disaster sh e has wrought. Feliz Navidadmollie Michon Its Christmas morning, post-present-opening push. Tissue paper and ribbon are strewn nearly the floor, and collide with to one side you can see a coffee table, and on it an ashtray the size of a hubcap overflowing with butts, and an unoccupied bottle of Jim Beam. Front and center is six-year-old Molly Achevski (she would change her last pee to Michon at nineteen on the advice of an agent because it sounds fucking French, people whap that). Molly is wearing a red sequined ballerina outfit, red galoshes that hit her nude stagecoachs about midcalf, and a elephantine, cheeky grin with a hole in the middle where her front teeth used to be. She has one foot propped up on a large Tonka dump transport as if she has just conquered it in a grudge match, and her unfledgeder brother Mike, four, is trying to pry the truck out from under her. Tears are streaming down his cheeks. Mollys other brother, Tony, five, is looking up to his sister sta ndardised she is the princess of all things good. She has already poured him a bowl of Lucky Charms this morning, as she does for twain her brothers each morning.In the background, we see a cleaning woman in a bathrobe lying on the couch, one hand hanging to the floor property a cigarette that has burned itself out hours before. The silvery ash has unexpended hand a streak on the carpet.No one has any root who took this picture.Dale Pearson This one was taken only a few years ago, when Dale was politic married to Lena. Its the Caribou Lodge Christmas party, and Dale is, once again, dressed as Santa, school term on a makeshift throne. He is surrounded by intoxicated revelers, all laughing, all memory the various joke gifts that Dale has passed out to them preliminary that night. Dale is brandishing his own present, a fourteen-inch-long rubber penis, as big just about as a soup can. Hes waving it at Lena with a leer, and she, dressed in a black cocktail dress and a single string of pearls, looks instead horrified at what hes saying, which is Well put this rascal to good use later on tonight, huh, baby?The irony of it is that later that night, he will don one of his vintage German SS uniforms everything but the jodhpurs, anyway and what he asks Lena to do with his new present is on the button what she told him he could do with it at the party. She will never whop if it was she who gave him the idea, but it will be a milestone in her move toward divorce proceedings.Theophilus Crowe At thirteen, Theo Crowe is already six feet four inches tall, and weighs a little over a hundred pounds. It is a classic scene of the three kings following the star. The seventh-grade music class is performing Amahl and the Night Visitors. rather cast as one of the three kings, Theo is now dressed as a camel. His ears are the only parts of his body that are in proportion, and he looks very much wish a camel fashioned out of wire by Salvador Dal. His chance to play Balthazar, the Ethiopian king, was muzzy when he announced that the Magi had arrived bearing gold, Frankenstein, and myrrh. Later, he, the two other camels, and a sheep will be suspended for smoking the myrrh. (They would have never been caught had the sheep not suggested that they play a quick game of Kill the Man with the Baby Jesus out behind the theater. Evidently the myrrh was prime smokage.)Gabe Fenton This one was taken just last year, at the lighthouse where Gabe has his cabin. You can see the lighthouse in the background, and windblown whitecaps out to sea. You can tell its a windy day because the Santa hat that Gabe is wearing is streaming out to the side, and hes holding the reindeer antlers on Skinners head. Crouched near to them, in a thousand-dollar St. John knit, red and cut in the style of a Napoleonic soldier, with brass buttons and gold braid on the shoulders, is Dr. Valerie Riordan. Her auburn hair is styled to curl behind her ears and accentuate her diamon d lattice earrings. Shes done up in Headline News Prompter marionette makeup, as if her face has been completely sanded off, and therefore painted back on by a crack team of special-effects people brighter, better, faster than a real human face. Shes trying, really trying, to smile for the camera. She is holding her hair in one hand, and appears to be petting Skinner, but is, upon closer examination, holding him at bay. A racing stripe across the knee of her nylons betrays an earlier attempt by Skinner to share a holiday leg hump with the Food Guys female.Gabe is scruffy in khakis and hiking boots. Theres a fine applications programme of sand on his pants and boots from where he was sitting astride elephant seals that morning, gluing satellite-tracking devices on their backs. He has a great, hopeful smile, and not a clue that anything capacity be wrong with this picture.Roberto T. Fruitbat This picture was taken on the island of Guam, Robertos birthplace. There are palm tre es in the foreground. You can tell hes just a vernal fellow, because he has not yet acquired a pair of Ray-Bans, nor a rule to bring him mangoes on demand. Hes curled up in a Christmas miscellany do from palm fronds and decorated with little papayas and red palm nuts. He is scokeing papaya pulp from his little doggy face. The children who found him in the wreath that Christmas morning are posed on either side of the admittance where the wreath hangs. They are both girls, and have the long frizzy brown hair of their Chamorro mother, the green eyes of their Irish-Catholic father, who is an American airman. Father is victorious the picture. The girls are in bright, floral mission dresses with puffy sleeves.Later, after church, they will try to coax Roberto into a box so they can later cook him and serve him with saimen noodles. Although he escapes, the incident traumatizes the young bat and he does not speak for years.Chapter 14THE CAMARADERIE OF THE LONESOME CHRISTMASTheo wor e his collar shirt to the lonesome(a) Christmas party. Not because he didnt have anything else to wear, because there were still two clean flannels and a Phish sweatshirt in the Volvo that hed snagged from the cabin, but because with the storm pounding the grooming out of Pine Cove, he felt as if he should be doing cop stuff. His cop shirt had epaulets on the shoulders (that are used for, uh, holding your paulets no for keeping your hat under for your parrot to stand on no) that looked cool and military, plus it had a little slot in the take where he could pin his badge and another one where he could stick a pen, which could be really handy in a storm in case you wanted to take notes or something, like 7 p.m, Still Really Fucking WindyWow, its really fucking windy, Theo said. It was 7 p.m.Theo stood in the corner of the main room of the Santa Rosa Chapel next to Gabe Fenton, who was wearing one of his science shirts a khaki canvas return shirt with many pockets, slo ts, buttons, pouches, epaulets, naughts, Velcro loops, snaps, and vents, so you could hopelessly lose everything you own in it and essentially sand your nipples off while patting the pockets and saying, I turn in I had it here somewhere.Yep, Gabe said. It was gusting to a hundred and twenty when I left the lighthouseYoure kidding A hundred and twenty miles per hour? Were all going to die, Theo said, touching suddenly better.Kilometers per hour, Gabe said. Stand in front of me. Shes looking. He snagged Theo by the epaulet (aha) and pulled him around to block the view from the other side of the room. crossways the open hardwood floor, Valerie Riordan, in charcoal Armani over red Ferragamos, was sipping a cranberry and pappa from a plastic cup. wherefores she here? Gabe whispered. Didnt she get a better gallop from some country club or some business guy wire or something? Gabe said the word business like it was a putrid taste that he needed to spit out before it sickened him, wh ich was exactly how he meant it. Although Gabe did not live in an ivory tower, he did live next to one, and it gave him a skewed perspective on commerce.Your eye is twitch really badly, Gabe Are you okay?I think its conditioning from the electrodes. She looks so great, dont you think?Theo looked over at Gabes ex-girlfriend, considered the heels, the stockings, the makeup, the hair, the lines of her suit, her nose, her hips, and felt like he was looking at a sports car that he could not afford, would not hold up how to drive, and he could only envision himself entangled in the wreckage of, wrapped around a telephone pole.Her lipstick matches her shoes, Theo said, by way of not really answering his friend. That sort of thing didnt happen in Pine Cove. Well, Molly did have some black lipstick that matched a pair of black boots she had, which she wore with nothing else, but he really didnt want to think about that. In fact, this moment would only have any meaning at all when he shared it with Molly, which he realized he wasnt going to be doing, which made him jealous of Gabes twitch for a second.The double doors to the chapel service opened, and wind whipped through the room, rattling the few strands of crepe paper that still clung to the wall to this point and knocking a couple of ornaments off the giant Christmas tree. Tucker Case came in, his bomber jacket dripping, a little furry face sticking out through the V in the zipper in the front.No dogs, said Mavis Sand, who was fighting to get the doors turn out. Weve just let kids come the last couple of years, and Im not happy about it.Tuck grabbed the other door and pulled it shut, then reached over Mavis and caught the door she was battling. Hes not a dog.Mavis turned around and looked right into the face of Roberto, who made a little barking sound. Thats a dog. Not much of a goddamn dog, Ill give you that, but a dog. And hes wearing sunglasses.So?Its dark, moron. modernize rid of the dog.Hes not a dog, Tuck said, and to illustrate his point, he unzipped his jacket, took Roberto by the feet, and flung him at the ceiling. The bat yelped, opened his leathery wings, and flew to the top of the Christmas tree, where he caught the star, swung center(prenominal) around, and settled, upside down, hanging there above the room, looking, despite his cheery temperament and hot pink sunglasses, a little creepy.Everyone in the place, thirty or so people, stopped whatever they were doing and looked. Lena Marquez, who had been cutting lasagna into squares over at the buffet table, looked up, made brief eye contact with Tuck, then looked away. provided for the boom box playing reggae Christmas carols and the wind and rain thrashing outside, there was not a sound.What? Tuck said to everyone and no one in particular. You people act like youve never seen a bat before.Looked like a dog, Mavis said from behind him.You dont have a no-bat policy, then? Tuck said, not turning around.Dont think so. You got a great ass, flyboy, you know that?Yeah, its a curse, Tuck said. He eyed the ceiling for any false mistletoe he might get trapped under, spotted Theo and Gabe, then made a beeline for the corner where they were hiding.Oh my God, said Tuck as he was approaching. Did you guys see Lena? Shes so hot. Dont you think shes hot? I miss her.Oh God, not you, too, Theo said.That Santa hat, it does something to me.That a Pteropus tokudae? asked Gabe, peeking out quickly from behind Theo and nodding toward the Christmas tree with the bat.No, thats Roberto. Why are you hiding behind the constable?My ex is here.Tuck looked over. The carrottop in the suit?Gabe nodded.Tuck looked at him, back at Val Riordan, who was now chatting with Lena Marquez, then again at Gabe. Whoa, you were really crawling out of your gene pool, huh? Let me shake your hand. He reached around Theo, offering his hand to the biologist.We dont like you, you know? Theo said.Really? Tuck took his hand back. He looked around Theo at Gabe. Really?Youre okay, said Gabe. Hes just cranky.I am not cranky, Theo said, but, in fact, he was a little cranky. A little sad. A little stoned. A little out of sorts that this storm hadnt just blown over like hed hoped, and a little excited that it might actually turn into a disaster. Secretly, Theophilus Crowe loved a disaster.Understandable, Tuck said, squeezing Theos shoulder. Your wife was a biscuit.Is a biscuit, corrected Theo, but then, HeyNo, its okay, Tuck said. You were a lucky man.Gabe Fenton reached up and squeezed Theos other shoulder. Its true, Gabe said. When Molly isnt completely off her rocker, she is a biscuit. Actually, even when she is Would you guys go away calling my wife a biscuit I dont even know what that means.Something we say in the islands, Tuck said. What Im saying is, youve got nothing to be shamed of. You guys had a good run. You cant expect her to lose her sense of judgment forever. You know, Theo, every now and then Eraserhead will hook up w ith Tinker Bell, or Sling Blade Carl will marry Lara Croft that sort of thing gives us hope but you cant count on it. You cant bet that way. Why, guys like us would always be alone if some women didnt have a implanted streak of self-destruction, isnt that right, Professor?Truth, said Gabe. He made a sort of swear-on-the-Bible gesture. Theo glared at him.Eventually a woman will wise up, Tuck continued.Shes just gone off her meds.Whatever, Tuck said. Im just saying that its Christmas and you should be grateful that you were ever able to fool someone into loving you in the first place.Im calling her, Theo said. He pulled his cell phone from the pocket of his cop shirt and keyed the button for his home number.Is Val wearing the pearl earrings? Gabe asked. I bought her those.Diamonds studs, said Tuck, checking over his shoulder.Dammit.Look at Lena in that Santa hat. That woman has a talent with tinsel, if you know what I mean?No idea, said Gabe.Me either. It just sounded kinky, sa id Tuck.Theo snapped the cell phone shut. I hate both you guys.Do not, said Tuck.No service? asked Gabe.Im going to see if the police radiocommunication in my car is working.Rain was pooling in the graveyard behind the chapel as the dead pulled one another from the muck.This looked easier in the movies, said Jimmy Antalvo, who was waist-deep in a puddle and being pulled out by Marty in the Morning and the new guy in the red suit. Jimmys quarrel were a little slurred and slurpy, between the mud and a facial structure that was mostly morticians wax and wire. I thought Id never get out of that coffin.Kid, youre better off than a couple weve pulled out, said Marty in the Morning. He nodded to a very feeble and mostly decomposed pile of inspire meat that had at one time been an electrician. The mushy thing made a moaning sound.Whos that? asked Jimmy. The torrential rain had washed the mud out of his eyes.Thats Alvin, said Marty. All we can understand from him.I used to talk to him all the time, said Jimmy.Its different now, said the guy in the red suit. Now youre really talking, not just thinking it. His talking equipment is past warranty.Marty, who had been stalwart in life but had slimmed down significantly since his death, bent down and got a good grip on Jimmys arm, bending the elbow around his own, then made a great straining lift to pull the kid out. There was a loud pop and Marty went over transposed into the mud. Jimmy Antalvo was waving around an empty leather jacket sleeve and yelling, My arm My armJeez, they should have sewn that on better, said Marty, holding the arm in the air, even as the hand appeared to be doing a very jerky version of a parade wave.This whole undead rigamarole is disgusting, said Esther, the schoolteacher, who was standing to the side with a few others who had already been turn over up. Water was pouring off the shreds of her best church dress, which had been reduced by time to calico tatters. Ill not have anything to do with it.So youre not hungry? said the new guy, muddy rainwater streaming out of his Santa beard. Hed been the first one out, since he hadnt had to escape a coffin.Fine, once we get the kid out well just push you back down your hole.Im not saying that, said Esther. I would enjoy a snack. Something light. Mavis Sand, maybe. That woman cant have enough brains to spread on a cracker.Then shut up and help us get everyone out.Nearby, Malcolm Cowley was staring disapprovingly at one of the less articulate members of the undead who had been pulled from his grave and was showing lots of bare bone between the meat. The dead book softwooder was wringing out his albumen jacket and shaking his head at every comment. Suddenly we are all gluttons, are we? Well, I have always enjoyed Danish new furniture for its functional yet elegant design, so once we have consumed the brains of these revelers, I feel compelled to seek out one of these furniture boutiques I have heard so much about from newlyweds in the chapel. offshoot we feast, then IKEA.IKEA, chanted the dead. First we feast, then IKEA. First we feast, then IKEA. foot I eat the constables wifes brain? asked Arthur Tannbeau. She sounds like shell be spicy maintain everyone out of the ground, then we eat, said the new guy, who was used to telling people what to do.Who died and made you boss? asked Bess Leander.All of you, answered Dale Pearson.The man has a point, said Marty in the Morning.I think while you boys finish up here, Ill have a stroll around the parking lot. Oh my, I dont seem to be manner of walking very well, said Esther, dragging one foot behind her and ploughing a furrow in the mud as she moved. But IKEA does sound like a delightful after-supper adventure.No one knows why, but second only to eating the brains of the vivacious, the dead love affordable prefab furniture. across the parking lot, Theophilus Crowe was busy having the water in his ears replaced with dog spit.Get down, Skinner. Theo pushed the big dog away and keyed the mike on the police radio. He had been adjusting the squelch and the gain, and getting little more than distant disembodied voices, just a word here or there in the static. The rain on the car was so loud that Theo put his head down by the dash to better hear the little speaker, and Skinner, of course, took this as an invitation to lick more rain out of Theos ears.Ack Skinner. Theo grabbed the dog muzzle and steered it between the seats. It wasnt the dampness, or even the dog breathing space, which was considerable, it was the noise. It was just too loud. Theo dug into the console between the seats and found half a Slim Jim in a folded over wrapper. Skinner inhaled the tiny meat stick and savored the greasy good by smacking his chops right next to Theos ear.Theo snapped the radio off. One of the problems with living in Pine Cove, with the ubiquitous Monterey pines, was that after a few years the Christmas trees stopped looking like Christmas trees and star ted looking like giant confused dust mops, a great sail of needles and cones at the top of a long, slender trunk and a pancake root system a tree especially adapted to fall over in high wind. So when El Nio cruised up the coast and storms like this came in, first cell and cable TV repeater stations lost power, soon the town lost its main power, and finally, phone lines would go down, efficaciously cutting all communications. Theo had seen it before, and he didnt like what it portended. Cypress Street would be underwater before dawn and people would be kayaking through the real-estate offices and art galleries by noon.Something hit the car. Theo turned on the headlights, but the rain was attack down so hard and the windows were so fogged with dog breath that he could see nothing. He assumed it was a small tree branch. Skinner barked, deafeningly loud in the enclosed space.He could go patrolling downtown, but with Mavis having closed the Slug for Christmas Eve, he couldnt imagin e why anyone would be down there. Go home? Check on Molly? Actually, she was better equipped with her little four-wheel-drive Honda to drive in this mess, and she was smart enough to bond home in the first place. He was trying not to take it personally that she hadnt come to the party. Trying not to take to heart the pilots rowing about not being worthy of a woman like her.He looked down, and there, cradled in bubble wrap in the console, was the art-glass bong. Theo picked it up, looked it over, then pulled a film can of sticky green buds from his cop-shirt pocket and began loading the pipe.Theo was presently blinded by the spark of the disposable lighter, at the same time as something scraped against the car. Skinner jumped over into the front seat and barked at the window, his healthy tail beating against Theos face.Down, boy. Down, Theo said, but the big dog was now mining at the vinyl panel on the door. Knowing that it meant that hed have to deal with a lot of wet dog later , but feeling that he really needed to get a buzz on in peace, Theo reached over and threw open the passenger door. Skinner bounded out the door. The wind slammed it behind him.There was a commotion outside, but Theo could see nothing, and he figured that Skinner was just frisking in the mud. The constable lit the bong and lost himself in the scuba bubbles of sweet comforting smoke. outside(a) the car, not ten feet away, Skinner was gleefully tearing the head off an undead schoolteacher. Her arms and legs were flailing and her mouth was moving, but the retriever had already bitten through the better part of her decayed throat and was shaking her head back and forth in his jaws. A skilled lip-reader would have been able to tell you that Esther was saying I was only going to eat a little of his brain. This is entirely uncalled for, young man.I am so going to get bad-dogged for this, Skinner thought.Theo stepped out of the car into an ankle-deep puddle. Despite the cold, the wind, the rain, and the mud that had squished over the edge of his hiking boots, Theo sighed, for he was sorely, wistfully stoned, and slipping into that comfortable place where everything, including the rain, was his fault and hed just have to live with it. Not a maudlin self-pity that might have come from Irish whiskey, nor an angry tequila blame, nor a jittery speed paranoia, just a little melancholy self-loathing and the realization of what a total loser he was. Skinner. Get over here. Come on,boy, back in the car.Theo could barely see Skinner, but the big dog was on his back rolling in something that looked like a pile of wet, muddy laundry sort of snaking back and forth with his mouth open and his pink tongue whipping around in ecstatic dogasm.Probably a dead raccoon, Theo thought, trying to scoot some rain out of his eyes. Ive never been that happy. I will never be that happy.He left the dog to his joy and slogged back into the Lonesome Christmas. He thought he felt a hand across h is neck as he wrestled his way through the double doors, then a loud moan when the doors slammed shut, but it was probably just the wind. It didnt feel like the wind. Had to be the wind.