It seemed odd, to be on a bus. After spending so many Saturday mornings at the airport, riding a bus just felt...abnormal. Loki fingered his revolver while glancing at the couple sitting in the seat in front of him. Damn adulterers. If only he knew for sure. But Bartleby was on his high horse again, and wouldn't even give him the slightest hint. What Loki wouldn't give to be the Angel of Death again, and just go around killing sinners without worrying about things like karma. Hanging around with mortals all day long made you have things like a conscience.
"Will you just relax?" Bartleby said, glancing over his magazine for barely a second before returning to an article on Martha Stewart. "We've got to keep a low profile, after all."
"If you tell, I swear I'll chill out." Loki responded, staring at the couple as they began to make out. It was truly sickening.
"Oh yeah, like that will make me give in. How many times do I have to tell you? Low Profile."
"Oh, damn you..." Loki muttered to himself, and went back to the couple.
Hmm...Wedding ring on the man's finger...can't see the girl's hand...don't even want to think about where it disappeared to...no married couple gets that excited in public...
Loki reached into his jacket pocket and was about to pull out his revolver when Bartleby stopped him.
"The guy just signed his divorce papers. As nauseating as it is, they're fine."
"Can't I get them on sex before marriage?"
"Sorry. Maybe next bus ride."
Loki sighed and let himself sink into the bus seat. They still had hours of travel ahead of them, and getting so disappointed so soon wasn't a good sign. A little sleep would probably help, though.
"Wake me up if anything interesting happens."
Bartleby nodded his consent and went back to his magazine. He continued reading for a time to keep himself occupied, but eventually motion sickness forced him to turn his gaze. He folded up the magazine and placed it in the netting on the seat-back in front of him, and began to stare out the window. Fields, complete with cows, rushed by. The scenery hadn't changed once since the bus had departed from the station. Maybe that was what made Wisconsin so terrible - repetition. Every cow looks the same as the one standing next to it. The same holds true for mortals.
Bartleby's eyes slid out of focus as he retreated farther inside himself. How could God love such creatures? Even at their best, it's insulting to compare them to the higher beings of heaven. Hell, it's insulting to compare them to the condemned archangels, banished to Wisconsin until the end of the world. They could be doing so much with their free-will, but instead they remain within the tiny boxes of their minds. The only time they venture outside the beaten path is to find a way around the law.
Is it better to be all-powerful under servitude, or have limited ability with free-will? Bartleby had asked himself this question many times over. Just once he would like to know an answer.
Something out the window caught his eye. It hadn't quite passed the bus yet, but he could see it coming up. Quickly, he nudged his sleeping companion and pointed out the window. As slow to react as Loki was, he opened his eyes just in time to see the sign move past their seat.
You Have Now Left Wisconsin
"We're out." Loki remarked, sitting up straighter and shaking off his drowsy feeling. A smile played on his face as he punched his associate in the arm. "About time too."
"That was...quite easy." Bartleby rubbed his arm where a bruise would soon form, then went to run his hand through his hair.
"...before now..."
"Repeat that?" Loki shrugged off his jacket and arranged it on the back of his seat for comfort's sake.
"I was just wondering why we waited until now to leave."
Loki shifted in his seat, trying to smooth out his jacket underneath him. "I'm not a Gregoriate. Either explain what the hell you're talking about, or let me sleep."
Bartleby gave half a sigh, and turned to face the window before he explained himself, speaking and enunciating as if a toddler were present. "We were condemned to Wisconsin until the end of the world. Yet all we just did was take a bus, and poof we're out. Why did it take us so long to figure out that it was so simple? Are we missing something? It's all too easy."
"You think too much," Was the only reply he could get out of his companion. "We're out, so we're out. Now we can concentrate on heaven."
"How can I concentrate on heaven if I don't understand Earth?" Bartleby muttered to himself.
"Hmm?"
"Shut up and go back to sleep."
"That's harsh, man." Loki responded. He probably would have gone back to sleep too, but one can only rest so much. After a time, it just turns into laziness. "Can I see your magazine?"
Bartleby leaned forward and took the pages from the seat back, but hesitated before handing them over. After a moment of silence, he brandished the rolled up magazine at Loki and just exploded, gibbering out all of his inner thoughts in one rushed breath.
"Just thing about it. Think for once. We get a newspaper clipping in the mail. We never get mail, never have. We don't know anyone who would send us mail, and even Publisher's Clearing House avoids us, probably because the Big Guy doesn't want us hitting it rich. Now, we're going to New Jersey. Why does this church have to be in New Jersey? It doesn't seem like an overly holy place, what with the mobsters and the drugs and the public schools. I don't care what the movie Garden State says, I don't like Jersey. If any church celebration would get us back into heaven, it wouldn't be there, or anywhere else in this country. It would be in Rome or Paris or someplace big and impressive and foreign. But at least this is sort of nearby, and we can get there with just a few train tickets and a cab or two. Maybe that's what we we're being tempted on: if we can resist something attainable. How do we know this isn't a hoax, I trap to get us to leave out assigned place? God might be there, right at the church as we walk in, and slap even bigger chains on us for leaving Dairy-Land. Or He might get us before then. He'll probably get us before then..."
Bartleby took a breath. Then another. Then he slumped back into his seat and closed his eyes for a moment.
"Whoa." Loki uttered, after absorbing all that he could. A moment passed. "Whoa. This was too easy."
"I want to go back. We didn't think this through before we got the bus tickets. I'm not ready." His eyes remained closed.
"The minor damage is already done." Loki pointed out. "It doesn't matter if we turn around now, or five minutes from Jersey. We left Wisconsin. The minor damage is already done."
"You've said that already."
"I did?"
"Just then."
"Oh."
Each sat in his seat, Bartleby with his eyes examining his eyelids, and Loki looking on the passing cows with waning interest. Minutes passed by, scarcely noted by either. Time piled up as each sat in his own world. Bartleby took a deep breath, and then another and another, until the silence flooding his ears melted away, revealing the murmur of conversation and blank noise on the bus. The vehicle continued on, unperturbed by the revelations of the two angels sitting in its seats. There was still time. There was always still time.