Man, he’d known he was going to regret this. And what the hell was that long thing hanging from the ass of the pants? A red tail? Shit.
When he came out of the men’s restroom, he threw a glare at the group waiting for him. “First one that laughs, I shoot.” The Bowens had the grace to hold on until they got into James’s pickup before exploding in laughter.
“You assholes, cut it out. I can hear you through the earpiece,” he muttered, but it didn’t help jack shit.
“Let them laugh,” Elle said. “They’re jealous. You’re the best devil in the world. The one with the longest tail too. On account of his height and strength, Jonah always held the biggest pitchfork, the one with sixteen firecrackers on it. You’re going to look fantastic.”
The electronics were good, because the Bowens heard her and broke into more fits of laughter.
Once again, he thanked God for the tinted windows. They were in a rural area. If they got pulled over by the cops dressed like this, they were going into the hole.
They rode for fifteen minutes, while Elle painted her face black and red to the sounds of Grease. Jesus Christ, was this record always on one radio station or another?
“What is with these songs?”
“They’re fantastic. I’ve been trying to convince the flash-mob guys to do the one of Travolta on top of the car, ‘Greased Lightning’, but they outvote me every time. I even have the choreography ready.”
Jack had no clue what she was talking about, but decided to keep his mouth shut.
“Love the movie. Don’t you?”
“Haven’t seen it.”
She gaped at him. “You didn’t? We need to remedy that. It’s a must. No self-respecting rockabilly can miss it.”
That he was no rockabilly and couldn’t give a flying fuck about that movie, she didn’t seem to care.
When they arrived at Little Italy, Jack parked as close as possible to their destination and got out of the truck. “This is…” Jack said, looking around.
“Nuts,” Cole finished.
Exactly.
Traffic had been blocked from the main street leading to the square, but it was not clear of people. It was brimming with activity, security fences nowhere to be seen.
There were dozens dressed like Elle. He was going to need to paint a big red dot on her back not to lose her. On the bright side, no one else would be able to spot her either.
“Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?” Jack demanded, looking at some children picking up their small pitchforks. “These are explosives; you have kids handling those?”
He handed an earbud to her. She frowned but put it on. “Don’t worry. They dance mainly under us in circles while we hold the big pitchforks. They get the smallest charges and they don’t handle them. You see those guys there?” She pointed at a group near a cart full of firecrackers. “Every ten devils have a cart that walks near us in the parade, recharging the pitchforks when they go out. In a corner at the square there’s already set a big stash of fire charges for when we all come together for the final show.”
Oh well, that surely changed everything. Crazy people.
“This is fun,” Max said with a whistle, obviously totally disagreeing. “How come I didn’t know about this? We ditch the devil outfits, turn them into green shamrocks and St. Patrick’s will never be the same.”
“As an explosives expert, I have to object to being here,” Cole said, approaching. “There shouldn’t be any civilians around, much less without protective gear. And only trained personnel should have access to the fire charges.”
Jack couldn’t agree more.
“That would be soo much fun for the public,” Elle said, rolling her eyes. “The idea is for them to participate.”
“The idea is for them to make it home in one piece and not missing an eye,” Cole muttered.
Elle went on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. “You worry too much, bro. People come ready. Most are covered. If they get too hot, they scream ‘water,’ and buckets full of water are thrown on them from the balconies.”
Cole didn’t look reassured in the least. “I’m sure that’s very effective when you’re in flames.”
“Cool,” Max interjected.
“Come on, let’s take position,” James said to Cole, shaking his head, “before this wacko joins the parade.”
At that moment the devils carrying the big-assed drums started to bang on them.
“That’s the signal. Let’s go,” she said pulling at Jack. “Our team is there.”
Even though she had her sunglasses on, the scarf over her mouth, and the hood covering half her face, they all recognized her.
“Ready to light up the night?” she screamed over the thunderous sound of the drums, picking up her fork.
All of them cheered and then turned to Jack.
“This is…” She faltered.
“I’m her man,” Jack interrupted.
A guy she’d introduced as Raul stared at her, his eyes big.
“Yes, and I’m his pet. He plans to return me to the kennel as soon as he tires of me.”