The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror(48)

 

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. Except 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 you've never seen a bat before."

 

"Looked like a dog," Mavis said from behind him.

 

"You don't have a no-bat policy, then?" Tuck said, not turning around.

 

"Don't think so. You got a great ass, flyboy, you know that?"

 

"Yeah, it's a curse," Tuck said. He eyed the ceiling for any 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? She's so hot. Don't you think she's 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, that's Roberto. Why are you hiding behind the constable?"

 

"My ex is here."

 

Tuck looked over. "The redhead 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 don't like you, you know?" Theo said.

 

"Really?" Tuck took his hand back. He looked around Theo at Gabe. "Really?"

 

"You're okay," said Gabe. "He's 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 hadn't just blown over like he'd hoped, and a little excited that it might actually turn into a disaster. Secretly, Theophilus Crowe loved a disaster.

 

"Understandable," Tuck said, squeezing Theo's shoulder. "Your wife was a biscuit."

 

"Is a biscuit," corrected Theo, but then, "Hey!"

 

"No, it's okay," Tuck said. "You were a lucky man."

 

Gabe Fenton reached up and squeezed Theo's other shoulder. "It's true," Gabe said. "When Molly isn't completely off her rocker, she is a biscuit. Actually, even when she is —»

 

"Would you guys quit calling my wife a biscuit! I don't even know what that means."

 

"Something we say in the islands," Tuck said. "What I'm saying is, you've got nothing to be ashamed of. You guys had a good run. You can't expect her to lose her sense of judgment forever. You know, Theo, every now and then Eraserhead will hook up with Tinker Bell, or Sling Blade Carl will marry Lara Croft — that sort of thing gives us hope — but you can't count on it. You can't bet that way. Why, guys like us would always be alone if some women didn't have a deep-seated streak of self-destruction, isn't 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.

 

"She's just gone off her meds."

 

"Whatever," Tuck said. "I'm just saying that it's Christmas and you should be grateful that you were ever able to fool someone into loving you in the first place."

 

"I'm 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," said Tuck.

 

Theo snapped the cell phone shut. "I hate both you guys."

 

"Do not," said Tuck.

 

"No service?" asked Gabe.

 

"I'm going to see if the police radio 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. Jimmy's words were a little slurred and slurpy, between the mud and a facial structure that was mostly mortician's wax and wire. "I thought I'd never get out of that coffin."