What in God's Name: A Novel (16 page)

Laura led her down Third Avenue to her high school cafeteria. They sat across from each other, and Eliza summed up the situation as fast as she could. By the time she was finished, she was almost out of breath.

“Why us?” Laura asked.

“I told you,” Eliza said. “Because you both prayed to be together.”

She gripped the human’s elbow.

“Just make a move,” she begged. “You’ve got to. Everything is riding on it. Sam likes you, but he’s way too shy to do anything about it, and you’re running out of time.”

Laura smirked. “Why don’t
you
make a move?”

“What are you talking about?”

“That Craig guy. You’re obviously into him. You called him a genius. Twice.”

“Craig’s just a colleague,” she said defensively. “And besides—this isn’t about me.”

“Why don’t you just ask him out?” Laura pressed. “Say, ‘Let’s take a break from this Angel stuff and go out on a date.’ It’s 2012. You don’t need to wait for him to do it.”

Eliza chewed on her thumbnail.

“Okay,” she said. “How about this? If you and Sam make it work tomorrow—and the world doesn’t end—I’ll go on a date with Craig.”

Laura playfully shook Eliza’s hand, but when she caught sight of the Angel’s bloodshot eyes, her face turned pale.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “This is real.”

Eliza gripped her fingers tightly. “This is real,” she said.

A car commercial blared through the school’s PA system.

“1-877-KARS4KIDS, K-A-R-S KARS4KIDS…”

Laura rolled over, opened her eyes, and smacked the snooze alarm.

Her sheets were damp with sweat.

She wondered what it was she’d been dreaming about.

Eliza got to work at 6 a.m., but Craig was already there.

“Get any sleep?” she asked.

Craig shook his head. “Not really.”

He was watching something on his computer, a queasy expression on his face.

“What’re you doing?” she asked.

“Research.”

She sat down beside him. On the screen, Sam was dancing alone in his apartment to a song by ABBA. He was completely naked.

She grimaced. “I don’t see how watching this will help us.”

“I know it’s pretty rough,” Craig agreed. “But we need to learn as much about these humans as possible. Any insight into their character might help.”

He gestured at Sam’s gyrating body. “For instance. Now we know that Sam enjoys dancing. But we
also
know that he’s bad at it. That means we need to prevent him from dancing in front of Laura—if possible.”

“He’s also bad at sex,” Vince interrupted.

Craig and Eliza looked up at him.

“How do you know that?” Craig asked.

“I went through the Server last night,” Vince said, “and I watched every sexual encounter he’s ever had.”

“Wow,” Eliza said. “How long did that take you?”

Vince chuckled. “Not long.”

Eliza scrunched her face up with disgust. “What was it like?”

“It was horrible,” Vince said. “Honestly, some of the most upsetting images I’ve ever seen. And I’ve watched most of World War Two.”

“What was so bad about it?”

“I’ll spare you the specifics. Suffice it to say he lacks confidence.”

He grabbed Craig’s keyboard and logged on to the Server.

“The female’s better in bed,” he said. “But she’s just as bad on dates.”

He opened a clip from earlier in the year. Laura was standing in front of a jukebox next to a bearded man in a sweater.

“Who’s she with?”

“Some guy her sister set her up with,” Vince explained. “He just put a dollar into the machine and asked her to pick a song.”

They watched as Laura scrolled through the options, a panicked expression on her face.

“What’s taking her so long?”

“She’s terrified,” Vince said. “Watch this.”

He turned up the volume, and the Angels leaned in toward the screen.

“Well, what do you want to listen to?”
Laura asked.

“I don’t know,”
he said.
“Anything.”

“Do you like Ace of Base?”

“Why, do you like them?”

“I don’t know! Do you…
not
like them?”

Vince turned off the clip. “It goes on like that for ten minutes. Eventually, the guy’s dollar expires.”

Craig checked his watch. “It’s six-fifteen,” he said. “That means we have less than eighteen hours.”

Vince smirked. “If I was down there, I wouldn’t need eighteen
minutes.
”

He popped his collar and slicked back his hair.

“I’d get there ten minutes late, just to keep her on edge. Then, just when she was starting to panic, I’d stroll in. I wouldn’t apologize. I’d just head straight to the bar and order two martinis.”

He pushed Craig’s swivel chair out of the way and crouched down beside Eliza. “Then I’d propose a toast.”

He raised his coffee mug; Eliza laughed and jokingly raised her water bottle.

Vince leaned toward her. “I’d say, ‘Now, usually I toast to world peace. But I’m distracted by how incredible you look. So tonight we’ll toast to your beauty. And the world can go to hell.’”

Craig scoffed. “That would never work.”

He turned to Eliza for confirmation, but she remained strangely silent. Her eyes were locked on Vince’s and her lips were slightly parted.

“Then I’d take her hand,” Vince continued in a low voice. “And lean across the table.”

Craig winced as Vince took Eliza’s hand and pressed his mouth against Eliza’s ear. He whispered something, and her cheeks subtly reddened.

“Okay,” Craig said. “You’re very smooth and cool. Congratulations. Can we maybe get back to saving the world now?”

“Of course,” Vince said. He took the keyboard and looked up the two humans. It wasn’t even seven yet, but both of them were already parked in front of their computers.

“How are we going to get these people to
kiss?
” Eliza said. “They’re the most unappealing humans I’ve ever seen.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Craig said. “And there is one thing that might help.”

“What?”

“Alcohol.”

Vince shook his head. “That’s not going to help us.”

“Why not?” Craig said. “Alcohol has been scientifically proven to lower inhibitions and increase libido. Almost every couple is somewhat intoxicated during their first kiss.”

“That might be true,” Vince said. “But we can’t just force-feed ethanol down these people’s throats.”

“We can try,” Craig said, a slight edge in his voice.

“How? They’re meeting at a Dunkin Donuts.”

Craig looked at his watch. “We’ll have to burn it down,” he said.

Vince laughed incredulously. “What?”

“We’ll burn the Dunkin Donuts down. And if the humans try to relocate to some other bullshit coffee place, we’ll burn
that
place down. And we’ll keep on burning places down until they get their heads in the game and go to a bar like a couple of fucking adults!”

He stood up suddenly, his jaw muscles clenched with determination.

“I’m sick of pussyfooting around here! It’s time to make this
happen.
Are you guys with me on this or not?”

Vince gave a startled nod and turned toward Eliza. She was smiling at Craig, her eyes bright with admiration.

“I’m with you,” she said.

Craig sat down and zoomed in tight on the Lower East Side.

“We can do this,” he said. “Just follow my lead.”

Sam stood in front of the bathroom mirror, trying his best not to hyperventilate. He knew it wasn’t even a real date, just a friendly trip to Dunkin Donuts. Still, the stakes felt strangely high.

He posed awkwardly in front of his mirror. He was wearing his favorite outfit: a cable-knit sweater and khakis.

“Don’t worry,” he said out loud to his panicky reflection. “You look great.”

“He looks
awful,
” Vince said.

“I’ve never seen less flattering clothes,” Eliza said. “Look at how those khakis bunch around his ass.”

“It’s okay,” Craig said. “I’m on it.”

“Oh, fuck!” Sam shouted.

He stared with horror at his sauce-speckled clothes. He’d been reheating some leftover chicken vindaloo when a sauce bubble suddenly exploded, splattering his pants and sweater.

He was dolefully changing into jeans when he heard his ringtone. He grabbed his dirty khakis and rummaged through the pockets for his iPhone. His heart raced with panic: was Laura canceling on him? He took a deep breath, bracing himself for disappointment.

Sam sat on the foot of his bed, sighing heavily with relief.

Sam’s stomach growled audibly. He’d been too nervous to eat breakfast or lunch and now there wasn’t time to eat dinner. He checked his hair in the mirror, ran out the door, and trotted down the street to Last Call.

He ran inside the bar and scanned the room for Laura, but she hadn’t arrived yet. There was nothing to do but wait. He sat down at a table near the back, then quickly moved to another, concerned that the first one was located too close to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he noticed that his new table was slightly sticky. He moved again.

“Oh, man,” Vince said. “He’s freaking out.”

“Why’d he get there so early?” Eliza said.

She typed Laura’s name into Omnex. The female was still taking a shower.

“Look at how much Sam’s sweating,” Craig said. “At this rate, he’ll have a full-fledged panic attack before she even shows.”

“Hey, look,” Vince said. “He’s finally going to the bar.”

He watched hopefully as the human flipped through the cocktail menu.

“He’d better order something stiff.”

“I’ll try the Lemondrop,” Sam said.

The bearded bartender glared at him with undisguised contempt.

“The
Lemondrop
?”

Sam smiled apologetically. “I’m not much of a drinker.”

The bartender reached beneath the counter and pulled out a dusty leather-bound book. After a few minutes of searching, he located the recipe.

“Sorry if it’s a hard one!” Sam said.

The bartender ignored him and poured some lemon juice into a blender. Then he added simple syrup, and three maraschino cherries. He was carefully adding the gin when the nozzle fell off of his Seagram’s bottle.

“Shit,” he said. “Good gin wasted.”

He squinted at Sam. “Hope you don’t mind a double.”

“Of course not!” Sam replied, trying his best not to be rude. “Thank you!”

“Nice one,” Vince said. “How much of that sweet stuff do you think made it in there?”

Craig zoomed in on Sam’s cocktail and analyzed its chemical makeup.

“Three ounces of gin,” he declared.

Vince and Eliza applauded.

“On an empty stomach, too,” Craig noted.

 The cubicle suddenly fell silent—Laura had finally arrived. The Angels watched with rapt attention as the humans hugged and laughed, prattling on about their boring days.

“I can’t believe she’s still wearing those awful jeans,” Eliza whispered. “Doesn’t she have any self-respect at all?”

“Her ass looks like a spider’s web,” Vince said.

“Quiet,” Craig said. “I don’t want to miss anything.”

He turned up the volume as loud as it would go.

“Wait,” Sam said. “So people think you’re a radio station?”

Laura nodded. “101.1 FM.”

“And you give away fake prizes?”

“I know I should stop. It’s just…when they get their prizes, they’re always so
excited.
They laugh and scream.” She lowered her eyes and shrugged. “I guess sometimes it’s nice to feel like you have the power to make someone happy.” She peered up at Sam self-consciously. “Is that crazy?”

“No,” Sam said, thinking of the pleasure he felt when he handed his drunken boss lottery tickets. “I think I know what you mean.”

She smiled at him and he felt a brief sense of calm. But within a few seconds, his anxiety returned in full force, like a tidal wave returning to the shore. She’d finished her beer, he noticed, but hadn’t yet ordered a second one. Did that mean she was bored with him and gearing up to leave? She probably had a party to go to or something.

“Wow, look at the time!” he said, awkwardly giving her an out. “I can’t believe how long we’ve been sitting here.”

Laura’s eyes widened with panic. “Do you have to be somewhere?”

“No!” he said, frantically. “No—I don’t have any plans.”

He chewed his lower lip, struggling to regain his composure. “What about you?”

“No,” she said, blushing. “This is all I’ve got.”

“Two more hours!” Brian chanted.

He was wearing a colorful party hat and holding a bag of kazoos. He pulled out a handful and tossed them into Craig’s cubicle.

“You guys want to do body shots with me?” he asked.

Craig shook his head. “We’re busy.”

“Then I guess I’ll see you at the party.”

Eliza glared at him. “What party?”

“The End of the World party! We’re going to watch demolition in the break room.”

He blew his kazoo. “Do you think he’ll use fire or ice? Someone in Accounts started a pool.”

“I don’t know,” Vince muttered.

“Yeah, I don’t really care myself. It’s going to be a pretty sick explosion either way.”

The Angels glared at Brian as he lurched toward the break room. When he opened the door, a blast of music blared across the office. It sounded like Lynyrd Skynyrd.

“Is
God
at that party?” Eliza asked.

“Probably,” Vince said.

“Let’s just focus,” Craig urged them. “We’re running out of time.”

He swiveled toward the screen and gasped in panic.