“I want a lot of fried onions and hot peppers on my cheesesteak. Don’t skimp. I haven’t had one in a while,” said the man in the black wool trench coat. The cute counter girl tacked the order in front of the cook while he laid out the thinly sliced steaks on the grill.
Throughout the corner restaurant, the sizzle of onions and steakums sliced through the raucous payday crowd. Although he stood out like a drop of cream in very strong coffee, the pallid man with his chiseled jaw and short blond hair felt comfortable with the clientele.
Awkward glances and sly looks came his way, but no one attempted to disquiet his presence. He would smile at them when he caught their stares.
“Cheesesteak, extra onions and peppers,” yelled Shaniqua from across the counter. When he heard the order, his gaze locked into her honey-dipped orbs that melted at the sight of his smoldering grey eyes.
“Thank you, Shaniqua, for your assistance,” he said, never once turning away.
“H-How do you know my name,” she asked, bewildered.
“You just look like a Shaniqua,” as he stroked her chin.
From the time he appeared in the doorway of Lou’s until she took his order, Shaniqua never mentioned her name, let alone, had a conversation with the handsome stranger. She stood there confused, wondering how did he know.
Cold wind rushed through the door, trying to find those who dared to hide from its clutches when the man in white stepped in. He was tall, athletic and draped in a alabaster coat that accentuated his ebony skin. His face displayed features as if carved from fine onyx. It was perfection at its simplest.
He strolled to the back table where pallid man sat and slid into the opposite chair.
“You know there is something existential about eating a cheesesteak. I can’t lie. I get a chubby as soon as I smell the onions,” said the man in the black wool coat.
“I didn’t come here to discuss your taste in cuisine, Lucifer,” said the man dressed in cream.
“Wait, hear me out. I’ve been coming here to this place since its inception. I’ve seen Lou Sr. stand behind that grill and put his heart and soul into these sandwiches. Now Lou Jr. is creating art with that spatula of his and I gotta tell you, Pat and Geno may be famous, but they are hacks compared to this place.”
Lucifer’s eyes started rolling to the back of his head after taking a hearty bite from his aforementioned sub. He swayed to the rhythm of each chew, licking his lips, and giving soft moans of ecstasy, much to the chagrin of his guest.
“I’m sorry Darius. Did that make you feel uncomfortable?” said Lucifer.
Darius gave a small grin and asked, “What do you need?”
“Is that how you treat Family?”
“You gave that up a long time ago.”
Lucifer placed his hand on his chest as his eyes stretched and his body jerked at such a retort.
“I’ll ask again. What do you need?”
“A mere moment of the Old Man’s time. I have a Job proposition.”
Darius began rapping his fingers, one by one, slow and monotonous on the table. His body, tense with anticipation, relaxed into the recess of the chair. He let out a soft sigh.
“He doesn’t do that anymore,” said Darius.
“What do you mean?” said Lucifer.
“Exactly what I said. He has other pressing issues to deal with than play games with you.”
“So is that why he sent you instead of coming himself. There was a time when he loved to ‘Show me up.’ His ‘footstool’ and the like. Am I not worthy of an audience?”
“No. You’re not. He has souls to redeem, Lu. I know you think yourself on his level since the rebellion and he has indulged you for far too long, but the Old Man has decided to delegate all future meetings to me. I am his liaison. Any and all requests from you now flow through me.”
Outside the restaurant, the wind and snow grew boisterous and the afternoon gray sky darkened into a black pool that swallowed the stars. The patrons stood silent as they viewed the swirling tempest blanket the entire neighborhood, waist-deep in snowfall.
Lucifer raised his fist and pounded the table with a force that fluctuated through the establishment. Everyone stopped. Frozen where they stood. No one moved. Not a blink or a twitch. Time ceased in that moment for the customers.
Through closed eyes and labored breath, the once favored of all Angels spoke in a soft whisper, “I am not here to play games with you, Darius.”
“Neither am I with you,” said the dark skinned man, lurching forward like a sprung cat. “Look, these are the parameters of our agreement. We let you do what you do because it provides balance through the Universe.
“Now the Old Man has played the game and has beaten you every time. He already knows the outcome and you should know too, but yet, you keep coming back for more. It was fun at the time. You so needed to be spanked for your insolence. However, he grows tired of you. So…those types of requests, Job experiences, have now been discontinued. Besides, humans can thoroughly mess up on their own accord without your help”
Lucifer eased back in his chair, grinning like a kid who just saw his teacher undress for the first time. Nodding his head deliberately, casting his eyes from left to right until they fell upon Darius. He clasped his hands together and placed them directly behind his head as he leaned backward and uprighted the chair onto its hind legs.
“You never forgave me did you?” asked Lucifer. “You’re still pissed. It has been centuries my dear brother. You need to get over it.”
“I forgave you, Brother. That is my nature. I follow my orders to the letter and I do not stray from his commands.”
Darius began to rub his right temple in hopes that it would alleviate the burning question in his mind.
“You want to ask me don’t you? I see it on your face. Go ahead.”
“You had Paradise. Why did you try to take out the Old Man.? He would have given you anything,” said Darius.
“Not the keys to the kingdom,” said Lucifer. “I had aspirations.”
“Aspirations? You’re the ruler of Hell. Is that what aspirations get you?”
“Better to be a ruler of Hell than a liaison. Now I’m him. I have people sing praises to me and worship me as him.”
As Darius stood up from the chair, he chuckled, shaking his head and leaning across the table towards Lucifer. His arms spread-eagled against the sides of the linoleum covered tabletop while his cream-colored coat dangled awkwardly against the back of his knees.
He spoke, “Isn’t it ironic that you rule such a desolate place and yet still have to ask permission to do anything. You are a king of nothing, Lu. Remember that the next time you see me.”
Darius opened the corner restaurant door and flailed his hand towards the waist-deep snow. The embankment parted on both sides, lending the tall angel a clear path as he sauntered down the walkway. He stopped midway and snapped his fingers into the cold air.
The patrons began to move and bustle through Lou’s as if nothing happened. The spicy aroma of peppers and onions hung in the air like a smoky fog enveloping the twilight. Lucifer could not help but wonder about his ex-brother’s statement. Was he right?
He waved a dismissive hand in the air and decided that he rules his kingdom with all authority and does not need permission for anything or from anyone. Definitely not from the Old Man.
He then thought of another proposition to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting human. While conjuring all types of mayhem and torture, Shaniqua appeared at his table with another cheesesteak order, along with a note. It read, “Have this one on me and you still need permission.”
