Chapter 7 - Stranger In A Strange Land
The end of the summer brought a happy occasion, for a welcome change. After months of making the rounds to all of the mainstream book publishers in the Vancouver region known as the Lower Mainland, Barry had finally persuaded Lund and Sons, a smaller house in Burnaby, to take a chance on Tommy's manuscript. They couldn't pay very much in the way of an advance, Yvonne had told him. Tommy was an untested author, and the subject matter was - quite frankly - not exactly mainstream, she'd said, choosing her words carefully.
Barry had smiled thinly. He knew what she was getting at. All the other publishers had said similar things, but in this day and age of political correctness, they'd had to tiptoe around the subject.
"OK, first of all, I don't care how much the advance is," Barry had told them all, "and secondly, it's all right to say what you're really thinking. The book is called 'One Man In My Heart', and it's written by a man. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that it's a gay man's autobiography. What you're trying so hard not to say is that a lot of people would be uncomfortable with the subject matter. Even now, after all this time. And I understand that. Believe me, I do. But one of the goals I set for shopping this book around was the idea that it might be able to open some minds. Start a dialogue. Tommy's book is a lot more than the life story of a gay man. It's about being different. A fish out of water. A stranger in a strange land. Who among us hasn't felt that way at some point in our lives?"
He and Carolyn had worked out his sales pitch together, and Barry genuinely believed in the message he was trying to impart. But even though he was making a lot of good points, many of the larger publishing houses were still reluctant to take a chance on a book like that from an unknown author. If Tommy had been a celebrity, or a person of note, it might be different, they'd told Barry.
Tommy's murder had been relegated to yesterday's headlines, as his killer had been a youth who had quietly accepted his sentence and gone to prison. Almost all of the people he'd spoken to seemed to be unaware of what had happened to Barry's husband. Yvonne had been the lone exception, and she had also made a positive impression on Barry by extending her condolences to him.
Yvonne had told him that she was willing to pitch Tommy's book to the boss, and that she had a certain amount of pull at the company, so she didn't forsee a problem. But because the book would be issued in limited print, and because the author was unknown, she thought that Barry needed to get out there and actively flog it. How could he do that? he'd asked, and the editor had told him to trust her.
So the book had been published, and Yvonne had booked Barry to appear on an afternoon TV talk show. He had called Cas on his cell phone, excited.
"I'm going to be on TV, Cas!" Barry had exclaimed. "Can you imagine?"
"Yes, I can," Cas said, his lips twitching. He looked at Gail, and she smiled. Cas had put the call on Speaker, and the Angel couple could both hear the enthusiasm in Barry's voice. But in his excitement, their friend had obviously forgotten what Cas had been doing for a job when they'd gotten to know each other in Vancouver.
Barry smiled now, too. "Oh. Right," he acknowledged. "Anyway, I'VE never been on TV before. I'm nervous about it, but I'm also really looking forward to talking about Tommy, and his book. Sales have been slow, but the publisher thinks this'll really help."
"Of course it will," Gail assured him. "Once people hear about what a wonderful story it is, I'm sure sales will take off." She grinned. "Cas and I bought about a hundred copies. We've been giving them out like candy."
"Thanks for your support, you guys," Barry said. "I really appreciate it, and so do Carolyn and Mike."
"It sounds like they're getting more serious," Gail remarked teasingly. "You can always tell, because both of their names are said in one breath. 'Carolyn and Mike'. 'Cas and Gail'..."
"Sam and Dean," Cas chimed in, and Gail and Barry burst out laughing.
"Thanks for the laugh," Barry said, wiping his eyes. "I miss you guys. All of you. We'll have to get together, soon."
"I'm just about to be brilliant, here," Gail said, putting her hand on Cas's arm. "Why don't we throw a watch party, at your house? Then, when you're done, we can have an end-of-summer barbecue. We'll take care of the food and the transportation, and we'll bring the guys, so there'll be beer, of course." She grinned. "But, don't worry; I'll get Gabriel to float a few cases of wine over there, too. Maybe some champagne, to celebrate your debut as a TV star."
So that was what had ended up happening. The morning of the day of the show, which was going to be aired live, Sam and Gail were in the kitchen, making breakfast. Barry had attempted to help, but they had shooed him out, telling him that TV stars didn't cook for themselves. Barry was pacing nervously around the house, and Cas asked him what he was planning to wear on the show. That inquiry prompted a protracted discussion, and the two men ended up heading upstairs to the master bedroom to select an outfit.
Angela and Peter were on the back deck, reading aloud from a book. Gail couldn't help but grin when she'd poked her head outside to let the kids know that breakfast was ready. Angela was helping Peter to sound out one of the bigger words, and little Ilene was sitting next to Angela, watching her brother and "cousin" reading, with quiet admiration. How cute was that?
"I can't wait for her to start school," Frank said from behind his sister. "She's gonna be the smartest kid that place has ever seen."
"Wow. Brag much?" Gail quipped. She poked him. "Hey. Help me get the plates and forks."
They went back into the kitchen, and as Frank moved over to the cabinets, Gail went to exit the room. "Where are you going?" her brother called after her.
"I'm going to get Barry," she responded. "We have to make sure he eats. He doesn't want us all to hear his stomach grumbling on TV."
"Lucky it's Barry, and not Frank; otherwise, the microphone would probably be picking up other noises, if you know what I mean," Dean said, elbowing Gail's brother on his way into the kitchen. "How's breakfast coming? Me and Mike are starving," he said to his brother.
"You can help Sam put everything out," Gail said to Dean, poking him. Then she looked at Frank. "One of you has to make some more coffee, too."
She made to leave the room again, and this time it was Dean who said, "Hey! Where are YOU going?"
Gail rolled her eyes. "I'm going to get Barry! Hurry up, you guys. At this rate, it's going to be time for him to go to the TV station, before breakfast is even finished!" She stalked out of the room.
"That's a bunch of b.s.," Frank grumbled, getting the plates out of the cabinet. "All she has to do is pop over to the bedroom to get him. Or use that Angel thingie to call Cas. She's just trying to get out of doing the work." He thrust the plates at Dean.
"So what else is new?" Dean said dryly, putting the plates on the table.
"What's the holdup, here?" Gabriel said, breezing into the room.
"Good. Another person," Frank said. "Come here and get the utensils. Do you know how to make coffee?"
Gabe looked at the men. "Really? REALLY?" He rolled up his sleeves. "Stand back, you guys." He waved his arms, and serving dishes started to fly out of the cupboards. Then, the dishes floated over to the stove, and the food jumped out of the pots and pans into them. Then, as the food-laden platters and bowls floated into the dining room of their own accord, the oven doors opened, and the process was repeated. A couple of coffee urns suddenly appeared on the countertop. "Regular, and Belgian chocolate," Gabriel said, grinning. "Now, duck, 'cause here comes the OJ."
"Cool!" Peter exclaimed, entering the kitchen from the deck out back. He'd seen his Uncle Gabriel in action before, of course. It was just like living in one of those boy wizard books. It was too bad he couldn't tell his friends about it. But his mom had had that talk with him already, and a couple of months ago, she and Barry had clued Ilene in, too. Now that Peter's little sister was older, she had been brought into the loop. With all the Angels they had in their family, the kids learned pretty young that there were going to be things going on like this, from time to time. But then they were also told that what they saw was to stay within the family. What the kids had been told inevitably led to other questions, which the parents had fielded as best they could. Rob had quipped once that it was sort of like "The Talk" about the facts of life, only a lot less gross, and Frank had nearly snorted beer out of his nose at that one.
The men were shaking their heads at Gabriel now, smirking, but they had to admit that his impatience made their jobs a lot easier. Well, if you didn't mind getting bashed upside the head by a serving dish, that was.
Gail poked her head into the kitchen. "Good job, you guys," she said approvingly. "Let's get this show on the road." She stopped short, sniffing the air. "Is that Belgian chocolate coffee?"
"Yeah. I ground the beans, myself," Dean said, with a straight face.
Gail looked from man to man to man, her eyes narrowing. They kept their expressions impassive, and after a moment, she gave up and left the room.
The men all smiled at each other, but then, a voice piped up: "No, you didn't!" Peter protested.
"Yeah, but SHE doesn't need to know that," Dean said to the young boy, making a shushing motion.
"That's fibbing, Uncle Dean!" Angela called out. She and Ilene had just come out from the back deck, and they were holding hands. It was the cutest damn thing Dean had ever seen. He walked over to the little girls and picked them up, one in each arm. "I'm not fibbing, I'm just...joking," he said, and Frank laughed.
"What your Uncle Dean IS, is a chicken," Gail's brother said, smirking.
"Buck, buck," Dean said, affably enough, and the kids laughed. He bounced the girls up and down, looking at Frank. "If I'm a chicken, so's your dad," Dean said to Angela. "And so's your Uncle Sam, and so is your Uncle Gabriel."
Cas entered the kitchen. "Gail wanted me to come and tell all of you that the breakfast is getting cold."
"Oh, look. Here's the Head Chicken, now," Dean said to the kids, and the men all laughed. Then they all trooped into the dining room, a puzzled-looking Cas trailing behind.
Joe hadn't slept right for days. Every time he laid down and closed his eyes, all he could see was the blade he had been practicing with, glinting in the moonlight. Joe was holding it aloft, stabbing the young boy over and over again, and the kid was screaming, cursing Josiah in the ancient language. Joe had never seen or heard Enochian before, yet in his half-dream state, he understood every word. The Beast was telling Josiah that he was not the Chosen One; that he was an impostor, who only thought he was an instrument of God. But, he was not. He was a nobody. A nothing. He was Joe, not Josiah. He was the bastard son of a trailer-park whore who had better stay as far away from Lebanon, Kansas as possible, if he knew what was good for him.
Joe was scared. Why him? He had always felt different from the other kids in school, from the people in the trailer park, even from his own mother. The day he'd found that awesome-looking dagger on the shores of the Mississippi had been a turning point in his young life, though. The instant he'd picked up the blade and it had glowed in his hand for the first time, Josiah had been shown what his life's purpose was: to kill the Beast of the Apocalypse. The Beast was going to be born to one of the most evil entities the world had ever known, and It was going to take the form of a young boy. The Lord God had spared Josiah's young life while he had still been in his mother's womb so that he could grow to be a young man, and once he had become proficient with the blade that God had placed in his hand, Josiah would be given a sign to embark on his mission.
The actual geographical location of the Beast in his vision was Joe's sign. He had never received that, before. Lebanon, Kansas? What a weird name. It sounded like a place in the Middle East, or something. But, Joe would just have to find out. He slipped out of bed and threw some items in a duffel bag. He wrapped the blade in a couple of shirts, and hid it in the bottom. He laid the Bible his mom had given him for his birthday on top of everything, then zipped it up. He'd taken his birthday envelope out of the middle pages first, and stuffed it in his pocket. He didn't have much, but Joe had saved what little he could over the past few years. But at least he could hang onto most of it and spend it only on food, because there was no way Joe was going to be able to take a knife like that on any kind of public transportation. He would just have to start walking, and maybe he would be able to hitch a ride from time to time. God would provide. There was still time for him to get there. The baby's father hadn't come upon the way to age him, yet. But Joe had better not dawdle, either.
He went into the small kitchen area and found a pen and a piece of paper in one of the drawers. His mom was out, of course. The Beast had called Joe's mom a whore, but she wasn't; not really. She was just a lonely woman who lived in a trailer park with an eighteen-year-old son who didn't fit in, anywhere they went. As Josiah's divine mission had become clear to him, he had distanced himself emotionally from his mother. Once he had started on his journey, Joe knew he would not be coming back. He suspected his mom knew that, too.
So Joe penned a quick note to her, telling her that he was setting out on his own, to "find himself". That was a phrase he'd heard somebody use once on a TV show, and it sounded like something that a guy his age would say. He thanked her for taking such good care of him for all of those years. It couldn't have been easy. He loved her, and he hoped she would be happy.
Joe tapped the pen on the paper for a moment, indecisive. Should he add something about contacting her, once he got settled? No, he'd better not. He didn't want her to worry, but he didn't want to give her false hope, either. It was best just to make a clean break of it. Maybe with him gone, she could find a man to settle down with. Hopefully a good man, this time. Not like Joe's father.
He picked up his bag and exited the trailer, letting the door close and lock behind him.
"Why does Dean keep calling me 'H.C.'?" Cas asked Sam, puzzled.
Sam nearly choked on his lemonade. It was early afternoon now, and they were all gathering in the living room, preparing to watch Barry on TV. Cas had discreetly transported their friend to the TV studio, after helping him choose an outfit to wear. Barry was going to call Cas on his cell phone when he was ready for pickup, but in the meantime, they were all going to watch the show together, as a family.
"I have no idea, Cas," Sam said innocently, his lips twitching.
"Maybe it stands for 'Holy Cas'," Frank said, grinning wickedly.
Cas's forehead wrinkled. "Why would Dean call me THAT? He's called me a lot of things over the years, but..."
"Maybe it's for 'Handsome Cas', Gail chipped in. "That would be MY vote." She sat down beside her husband, snuggling against him on the couch. Gail was so happy, at the moment. This was the most fun they'd had together in ages. It was such a shame that this occasion had arisen from such a sad and tragic event. But she didn't want to dwell on that, right now. Things had been bad enough lately with the losses of all their loved ones, without concentrating on that aspect of it.
Dean came into the living room, swinging Peter by the ankles. "Look out! Here comes the helicopter!" He spun the boy around a few times, until Peter protested: "I'm gonna throw up." Dean looked stricken, setting him down immediately. "Ha, ha. Faked you out!" Peter said happily.
"Come here," Carolyn said to her son. "Sit beside me. Barry's going to be on TV in a minute."
Peter ran over towards his mother, but because Dean had made him dizzy, the little boy ran sideways a few steps, and then he fell down. Gail clapped a hand over her mouth, trying to hold in the laugh that wanted to escape.
"Oopsie-daisy," Mike said with a grin. "Let me help you out with that." He scooped Peter up in his arms and deposited the boy next to his mother, joining the two of them on the loveseat.
Dean sat down beside Gail, raising an eyebrow to her. "What's WRONG with you?" he asked her, noticing that she was still trying valiantly not to laugh. "What have you got against kids, anyway?"
She eyed him. "Why are you calling Cas 'H.C.'?" she asked Dean suspiciously. "What does that stand for?"
Awww, crap. Busted, Dean thought. But before he could come up with a credible answer that wouldn't get him punched, Mike said, "Shhhh. It's starting."
Barry had been so nervous before the show. It was funny, too; a while back, he had sung and danced on the stage several nights a week in their community theatre, so it wasn't as if he was a stranger to performing in public. But those had been lines he was reciting, and other peoples' lyrics he had been singing. Now it was just him being him, and he wanted to do Tommy proud.
But the woman who was conducting the interview had put him at ease, and soon, he almost forgot that there were TV cameras focused on him. After Joan had introduced Barry and made him welcome, she asked him how the book had come to be. Barry had smiled warmly. He had already decided that he was going to try to hang onto his emotions, if he could. It was still difficult, but he wanted to talk about Tommy with love and admiration. If he sat here and bawled like a baby, Barry felt like he would rob Tommy of the dignity and respect that he and his book deserved. That was why he was determined not to even bring up the subject of the murder at all.
"A very good friend of ours named Jody told Tommy to write about what he loved," Barry told Joan. "So, that's just what he did. Primarily, the book is a love story."
"He mentioned Mom!" Angela exclaimed, and Frank gave his daughter a squeeze, smiling. Barry had mentioned quietly to Frank earlier that he wanted to pay tribute to Jody, too, but he hadn't wanted to upset his friend or the kids by tossing Jody's name in there, out of the blue. Frank had clapped a hand on Barry's shoulder and said that he thought that would be very nice. Then both men had started to tear up, and then, they had ended up hugging it out. There had been a lot of hugs between the family members that morning, and more than a few tears shed, as well.
"But it's much more than just a love story between my husband and me," Barry went on. "It's also a story about love for yourself, and acceptance. Even if your family and friends aren't able, or choose not to, accept you for who you truly are, you have to work on accepting yourself." He took a breath. So far, so good. He wasn't crying. Yet. "It's also about being a stranger in a strange land. That was how Tommy used to put it. He did a hitch in the military, and then he became a journalist, a foreign correspondent for a newspaper here in Vancouver. Both of those environments have traditionally been male bastions. Lots and lots of macho men. Tommy writes about how he coped with all of that. It's a mainly uplifting book and message, but he doesn't pull any punches, either. For everyone who showed him friendship and acceptance, there were others who definitely didn't. My Tommy had a lot of admirable qualities, but he wasn't a martyr, either." Yes, he was, the little voice in Barry's head piped up. That's exactly what he was. But he tried to ignore the voice. He was doing very well, so far. Tommy would be proud.
Barry smiled. "Tommy was a great believer in standing up for what was right. We were very close to a number of different people, from different walks of life. The main role models we had for a romantic couple are actually straight people, a man and a woman. Cas and Gail have been our friends for years now, and they have the kind of marriage we'd all love to have. They're extremely loving and giving people, but they've always said that doesn't mean you should let people walk all over you, either. All Tommy ever wanted was what everyone else wants. The freedom to live his best life."
Oh, crap. Barry's eyes were misting over, now. He shouldn't have said that. Now a lump was forming in his throat that felt like it was the size of a small beach ball. He and Tommy HAD been living their best lives, together, until that punk had decided that Tommy didn't deserve to live any more. It was so unfair.
Joan could see that her guest was becoming emotional, and it was time for a commercial break, anyway. So she leaned forward and put her hand on his arm. Then she looked into the camera. "We'll be right back, after this short commercial break."
Barry sat back in his chair for a moment, grateful for the opportunity to collect himself. "Thank you," he said to her.
"No problem," Joan replied. "Take five, and after the break, we'll talk some more."
The commercials were on now, and Mike turned down the sound on the TV. He took Carolyn's hand. It was tough on her too, he knew. They could tell that Barry was struggling with himself to keep it together, but so far, he was doing a wonderful job.
Dean nudged Gail. "Hey, Cruella, hand me that bowl of chips."
She looked at him, puzzled. "Cruella?" she repeated.
"Yeah. Wasn't she the one who hated kids, in that Disney movie?" he replied.
"Dalmatians," Sam corrected his brother. "She hated dogs."
"Whatever," Dean said, shrugging. "All I know is, she likes to laugh at little kids."
Gail made a face. "Are you still on that? It was one time, Dean."
"Oh, yeah?" he retorted. "Balloon? Cactus? Las Vegas? Ring a bell?"
Gail started to laugh, remembering that incident. "I don't care what you say, THAT was funny," she remarked.
Dean and Sam looked at each other. "Cas, Gail cheated on her taxes," Sam said to his brother.
"Surely you're mistaken," Dean said in his gravelly Cas voice. "If you check the arithmetic again, I'm certain you will find that she did not."
The younger Winchester grinned, as Dean cleared his throat. Man. Imagine talking like that all the time. It was a wonder that Cas didn't carry lozenges around in his pocket.
"Cas," Dean said to Sam, continuing the routine, "Gail was arrested for littering."
Sam cleared his throat too, preparing himself. "We will obtain an apology from the police," Sam said in his own Cas voice. "If she has dropped something, they must help her to find it."
Frank and Gabriel were exchanging quizzical looks. "OK, what is this?" Gail's brother asked the Winchesters. "What are you doing, right now?"
Gail rolled her eyes. "They think they're being funny. They did the same thing to us in Las Vegas."
"That's not funny. It's not funny at all," Gabriel remarked, frowning. He looked at Frank. "It's hilarious!" the Archangel exclaimed, and the men grinned at each other.
"I want in," Frank said eagerly, but just as he was thinking up a good one, Mike said, "Shhhh. It's coming back on."
Phew, Gail thought. Saved by the talk show. She guessed that whole routine was actually kind of funny, but Frank and Gabriel jumping in feet first would be all she needed. She stuck her tongue out at her brother as Mike turned the volume back up on the TV. Frank smirked. That was OK. He could wait. His sister and her husband were eternal beings, and Frank recognized a golden opportunity when he saw one.
"And, we're back, in three, two..." The show's director pointed to Joan, to signal that they were back on the air.
Barry was more or less composed now, but he was also a little bit puzzled. During the commercial break, he had decided to get a drink of water. They assured him that he had time, so he rushed over to the table where there were a number of beverages and snacks set up for the guests and the crew of the show. He grabbed a bottle of water and took several healthy swigs, hoping the water would clear the lump in his throat.
A young crew member sidled up to him. "Are you OK?" he asked Barry.
"Yes, I'm fine," he replied, nodding. "Thanks. Just nervous about being on TV, I guess."
The crew member gave a short laugh. "Geez, it's no wonder. I think you're a brave guy, myself. It's not everybody who can go toe-to-toe with 'Joltin' Joan'."
Wait; what? Barry thought, but the guy was walking away now, and it was time to get back to his seat.
The assistant put the tiny microphone back on the lapel of Barry's jacket, and a moment later, Joan was back, announcing that they were back on the air.
"You've said that one of your main goals in promoting this book is to encourage open and honest dialogue," Joan said to Barry.
"Yes," he agreed. "If we can get people to open their minds and realize that we're all the same, just human beings who are trying to live our lives the best way we can, there might be more love and acceptance in the world. Or, at the very least, tolerance of one another, and the way we choose to live our lives. That's what Tommy would want."
"'We're all the same'," Joan repeated calmly. "Well, in the interests of open and honest dialogue, we've invited a couple of people here today, to take part in the conversation." She looked at the audience. "Please welcome Rich and Patty Wayburn."
The audience clapped dutifully as Barry gasped. No way. It couldn't be.
The couple came out from backstage and sat in two chairs that had been set up on the other side of the show's host. An assistant came forward to attach microphones to their clothing.
"Oh, hell, no!" Carolyn yelled, springing to her feet. Everyone but Mike looked at her, puzzled. But then again, none of their American friends had ever seen Del's parents before.
Mike grabbed Peter and Ilene, hoisting them up into his arms. "Come on, you guys can help me set up the badminton net," he said to the kids. Then: "Hey, Rob, could you and Angela give us a hand?"
Rob looked at Carolyn's boyfriend, his eyes narrowing a bit. He could see what Mike was trying to do; get the kids out of the room. What he didn't know was why, or why Mike had picked HIM to take Angela. Did he think that Rob was a kid, too? But then he saw how upset Carolyn looked, and he picked his little sister up in his arms, sighing. He followed Mike out of the living room, towards the back yard.
"What the hell, Carolyn?" Frank asked Tommy's sister. "Who are those people? Why does Barry look like he's gonna puke?"
Carolyn was fuming. "They're Del's parents. You remember Del, right? Tommy's killer? They're his 'religious', 'Christian' parents. The ones who told Tommy that the Bible says that homosexuals should be burned alive. The ones who tried to keep their precious snowflake of a son out of prison."
Cas's eyes flashed as he stared at the TV. So, these were the people he had heard about. He started to do the slow burn. How dare they?
Barry's mouth was wide open. What the hell was going on, here? He had come here for a civilized chat about his husband's book, and all of a sudden, he was on Geraldo. He had no desire to talk to Del's parents. Why would he? Why SHOULD he? But if he stormed off right now, wouldn't he be negating everything he had just been trying to say?
"You've heard everything we've been talking about," Joan said to Del's parents. "What are your views on the subject?"
"Well, Joan, as good Christian people, we have to say that we're shocked and appalled that you would promote a book about deviant sexuality in the middle of the afternoon, when children could be tuned in," Rich said, frowning.
"That's NOT what the book is about!" Barry exclaimed.
"Oh, no?" Rich said coolly. "A book about one man being with another man? What would you call that?" He laughed shortly. "Never mind; look who I'm asking."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Barry said angrily.
"Isn't it obvious?" Patty piped up. "The Bible says that homosexuality is a Sin, and that a man who lays with another man should be put to death."
"It does not!" Barry shouted. "Show me where it says that!"
"Everyone knows it to be true," Rich said, shaking his head slowly as if he was talking to a child. "The only marriage sanctioned by God is the one between a man and a woman. These co-called 'same sex couples' are abominations, who will not be admitted into the Kingdom of Heaven."
"Oh, like you're an expert on who goes to Heaven," Barry snapped. "How about your son, the murderer? How about 'Thou shalt not kill'?" He looked at Joan. "How can you bring these people on your show? Their son murdered my husband, and he got five years for it. Five years! That's all! Meanwhile, Tommy's sister and the children and I have to wake up every day without the man we loved." He gestured to Del's parents. "This is exactly the kind of vituperative language that Tommy and I had to hear all of our lives. It's this kind of prejudice and intolerance that we're trying to do something about."
"If you want to do something about it, why don't you try being normal, then?" Patty said nastily.
Barry was astonished into speechlessness. What was he even doing here? What was his purpose in being on this show? "Joltin' Joan" was just sitting there, looking back and forth from him to Del's parents, like she was watching a really riveting tennis match. Now, Barry was starting to get an idea of why the crew guy had called her that. This had certainly been a rude jolt, to say the least. Why would she ambush him like this?
"We're going down there, right now," Gail announced. She grabbed Cas's hand, and the two of them vanished.
"Holy crap," Dean breathed. What the hell were those two gonna do?
The Angels reappeared in the TV studio. No one had noticed, because they were all so focused on the spectacle that was taking place.
"You and your kind are an abomination," Rich was saying to Barry. He and his wife seemed to like that word. A lot.
"'My kind'?" Barry exclaimed indignantly. "What kind would that be? Good-looking guys, who dress well?"
"You can blaspheme all you want to, but that doesn't change the fact that what you and your so-called husband were doing is wrong," Patty said tartly.
"No. It is you who are wrong," Cas said loudly, his voice trembling with anger. He and Gail were moving down the aisle. Cas had a hold of Gail's hand, and he was squeezing it firmly now, just short of being painful. She could see him working his jaw, and his eyes were blazing. "How dare you presume to speak for God?"
Barry's lips twitched. Somehow, Cas and Gail's sudden appearance didn't surprise him one bit.
Joan saw the way that Barry was looking at the couple, and she took a shot: "This wouldn't be Cas and Gail, by any chance?" she said to him, trying to contain her excitement. This was turning out even better than she'd hoped. A few months ago, her ratings had been lagging. The station manager they'd had at the time had been adamant that he was against the type of sensationalism that many daytime TV talk shows seemed to feature. He wanted to elevate, enlighten, and educate, Joan's boss had said. Which was all very highbrow and noble, but his philosophy had made her show as dull as dishwater. But after a few weeks of watching her ratings decline steadily, Joan couldn't take it anymore. So she had had her staff search for guests who had the potential for controversy, and if the fireworks just happened to go off because of that potential, well, that wasn't her fault, was it? Soon, she acquired the nickname "Joltin' Joan" because there seemed to be an inordinate number of confrontations between her guests. Oh, she knew what she was doing, all right.
The hostess of the show was happy to see Barry's friends, and she was absolutely thrilled to see that the husband of the straight couple was stalking angrily down the aisle now, towards the stage. Security moved forward to stop him, but Joan waved them off. "Please welcome Cas and Gail to the show," she said, gesturing for the Angels to come to where the four of them were sitting.
Oh, geez, Gail thought. This was a bad idea. But Cas still had her by the hand, and he was striding forward with purpose. Stage assistants rushed to put two more chairs on the stage, beside where Barry was sitting.
"Awww, GEEZ," Dean groaned. Cas had That Look on his face. This could be bad. Really bad. He looked at Gabriel. "Maybe you'd better go get Bobby. It looks like Cas is about to blow a gasket," Dean said to the Archangel.
Gabriel looked at the elder Winchester with a baleful expression. What was he, an errand boy, all of a sudden? Besides, he wanted to see this.
Once Cas and Gail were seated, Joan welcomed them. "I take it you don't agree with Mr. and Mrs. Wayburn's point of view?" she said to Cas.
"Of course we don't," Cas said, tight-lipped. "That is because everything they are saying is wrong."
"Where do you get off saying that?" Rich said, leaning forward in his chair. "Are you a Christian? Or are you a Godless heathen?"
Frank had been taking a swig of beer, and he spat it out now, spraying Sam.
"Dude!" Sam exclaimed, brushing at his shirt.
"Sorry," Frank said, grinning. "But this is just too funny. Cas is the Godless heathen who's gonna kick that guy's Christian ass, in about two seconds! Look at the look on Cas's face! They'd better nail his chair to the floor. Jer-ry! Jer-ry!"
Carolyn glared at Gail's brother. "Look, Frank, I know you like irreverent humour and everything, but could you just cool it for a minute? Think about what we're watching, here. Those horrible people are Tommy's killer's parents, and they're basically sitting there and saying that he deserved what happened to him! I can't take any more of this crap. I'm going outside, to be with Mike and the kids."
Frank felt bad. He was just so used to the family being used to his sense of humour. But he realized he'd been insensitive in this situation. "I'm sorry, Carolyn," he apologized. "I'm a great big ass."
Carolyn nodded in acknowledgement of his apology. Then, her lips twitched briefly. "But if Cas does kick that guy's ass, I'll want a detailed description, after," she quipped. "Better still, set the PVR." Then she left the room.
Gabriel grinned. Now that she was gone, he couldn't help himself. Frank was right; this was too funny.
Cas was looking at Del's parents with narrowed eyes. "It is the two of you and your son who are the abominations," he said in a clipped tone. "You are also liars. The Bible does NOT say that homosexuals are to be put to death. It doesn't even say that same-sex love is a Sin, because it is NOT one. If you have a copy of the Book that says either of those things, it is because certain humans have re-written it, to suit their own agenda. God approves of same-sex marriage just the same as He approves of heterosexual marriage. There is nothing deviant about homosexuality. It is people with closed minds like yours who claim that there is. But if that is your own viewpoint, don't hide behind the Lord God to spout your hate and prejudice. I can assure you, He does not approve, and neither do I."
"Why should we care what you think?" Patty sneered at Cas. "Look at the kind of company you keep."
"Look at the kind of company YOU keep," Cas shot back. "Your husband is an unemployed alcoholic, who beats you when the mood comes upon him. And last year, you were carrying on an adulterous affair with a man down the street. Your son is a murderer, because the two of you raised him to be one. It is your son who should be put to death, and back in my day, he would have been."
Rich leapt from his chair as if to fight Cas, and the Angel stood slowly and calmly. "That would be most inadvisable," Cas warned Del's father. "But just the fact that you are taking this approach makes evident the type of individual you are." He looked down at Joan. "And YOU are a liar, as well. You invited our friend on this show, ostensibly to talk about his husband Tommy's wonderful book, but in reality, you planned this encounter with these reprehensible people, in an attempt to get high ratings. You should be ashamed of yourself." Cas glanced at Gail, and then at Barry. "Tommy was our friend. He was a remarkable man, with many admirable qualities. We will not demean him or his memory by engaging in juvenile name-calling, or listening to your rhetoric of hate and ignorance."
"Don't use words with too many syllables, or they won't understand your insults," Gail quipped, unable to help herself.
Rich looked at her scornfully, and then he called her a name that was definitely not suitable for daytime television. Gail rolled her eyes. Why was it that guys like this always seemed to use that word as their go-to, when confronted by a woman? Cas had just spoken about juvenile name-calling, and this narrow-minded Neanderthal had just proved his point.
But Cas was done trying to make calm, logical arguments now. Well, if he'd ever been calm at all, that was. He had come in here hot, and Del's parents had been fanning the flames. And now, Rich had called Gail what she referred to as "the magic word". There was no way he would be allowed to get away with that, TV show or no TV show.
As Cas's arm wound up, presumably to punch Rich in the face at the very least, the men back in Barry's house all turned their heads to look at Gabriel. "NOW, will you go and get Bobby?" Dean demanded, but Gabe was already gone.
Bobby waited for Cas to sock Del's father in the face before stepping in. As soon as Rich went down like a ton of bricks, Bobby froze every occupant of the studio, and then he disabled all of the cameras with another wave of his hand. Then he put his hand on top of Cas's still-clenched fist, to heal the Angel's red, blistering knuckles.
"I hope you put some extra mustard on that one, 'cause it's the only one you're gonna get," Bobby told Cas sternly, although his beard was twitching as he looked at Gail. "You're welcome, dear."
Bobby moved over to where Barry stood, unfrozen but stunned. "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner," the reigning God said to their human friend. "You shouldn't have had to be subjected to any of that crap."
Barry recovered enough to sigh and say, "Thanks, Bobby. But, you know what? In a way, I'm almost glad it happened. Now, the viewers will have seen the kind of nonsense we've had to put up with, all these years. That guy's views are a little extreme, but he and his wife are hardly the only ones who feel that way, unfortunately. Tommy's own parents did too, and they raised most of his siblings to be the same way. That's probably why he reacted so strongly to these people." Tears formed in Barry's eyes, but he smiled tremulously as he looked at Cas and Gail. "It was very sweet of you two to march in here to my rescue, though."
"People like that should be made to see the error of their ways," Cas said, still fuming.
Barry glanced skyward. "Hopefully, Tom-Tom will forgive me if I remind you how hot your husband is when he gets like this," he quipped, winking at Gail.
She gave him a small smile. "I don't need to be reminded, believe me," Gail said, looking admiringly at Cas. "And I'm pretty sure Tommy's thinking the exact same thing...as you," she finished, somewhat lamely. She'd been about to say something like "wherever he is", but with Bobby here now, that was an uncomfortable topic. Gail knew that Bobby had been combing the Garden every day, looking for any or all of their fallen family members, but finding none of them. He was doing everything he could, so none of the survivors had been pestering him about it. In fact, that was where Bobby had been, when Gabriel had suddenly shown up and said he'd better come and save Cas from himself. Bobby had deputized Gabriel, Cas and Gail a while back, for lack of a better term, to allow them all access to the Garden. He might be God, but he couldn't be everywhere, all at once. Heaven was still employing the sorting system that had been established under Cas's administration, because it worked so well.
Cas had been mainly relieved when Bobby had shown up here at the studio. He had been in a state of rage at the attitude of Del's parents and the inflammatory things they'd said, and when the man had spoken that disgusting word to Gail, his fury had increased that much more. For a split second, he'd considered pulling his blade, and exacting some measure of revenge for Tommy's murder. But these weren't Biblical times, and Barry had suffered enough indignity here. So at the last moment, Cas had reined himself in. But the man was owed a punch in the face, at the barest minimum, so Cas had delivered one.
Bobby was also relieved. Knowing Cas as he did, the reigning God had come to the studio expecting...well, pretty much anything. Luckily, Cas hadn't carved the guy up, or blasted him into next week. Still, Bobby thought it was best that they all bail on this situation, right now. "I'll un-freeze everybody in a second," he told the others. "Gabe, put that guy back in his chair. Cas and Gail, take Barry home. Me and Gabe'll be along in a minute." He waited for a protest from Cas, but thankfully, there was none. The couple took one hand of Barry's each, and the trio disappeared.
Gabe waved his hand with a contemptuous expression on his face, and Rich's unconscious form was slammed back into his chair. The Archangel looked at Bobby, smirking. "Oops," he said. Then: "So, are we modifying everyone, or what?"
Bobby thought about that for a moment. "Normally, I'd say yeah. But, you know what? I think we'll just leave it like this. Let 'em wonder where they went. But I think the people who saw this whole debacle should remember what they saw here. Maybe Mr. and Mrs. Bigot here actually proved Barry's point for him. And if Big Rich there wonders why his jaw hurts so bad, they can tell him it's from flapping his gums so much. After all, Rich is just another word for Dick, isn't it?"
Gabriel gaped at Bobby for a couple of seconds, and then the Archangel started to smile. "You know what, Bobby? You're my kind of deity," Gabe told him.
"Well, now that I have your endorsement, I can rest easy," Bobby said sardonically, but he was pleased by the compliment. "Let's go spend some time with the family," God said, nodding to Gabriel in acknowledgement. He waved his hands to re-animate everyone in the studio, and he and Gabriel vanished.
VIGNETTE - THOSE WERE THE DAYS
Cas and Gail were at Frank's place, talking with her brother and Rob at the kitchen table. There were a couple of reasons Gail had wanted to go there. One was that she'd felt they were overdue for a discussion about Vincent, and the apparent fact that it was Eric's adoptive mother who had been looking to kill his progeny.
They'd had Rob do some research, based on what they knew about Vincent's offspring. Sam and Dean had gone out on the road, but Gail had popped over to the bunker and helped herself to the box that contained the Master List of the surviving "kids". She hadn't forgotten that Agnes Bidwell had been shot to death a while back, and according to Rob's Internet research, Aggie's killer had never been identified.
"I don't like the sound of that," Frank said, sitting back in his chair and regarding them all. "So, you think this whackjob of a woman is running around trying to eliminate the rest of his kids?"
"That's what we believe, yes," Cas confirmed soberly.
Frank looked at his son, but Rob was already shaking his head. "I know what you're going to say, Dad, but the answer is no. I'm not going on lockdown again. I was a kid when Lucifer was here on Earth, but I'm a man now, and I'm a Hunter. Alice is a human, just like we are. I'll be careful, but I'm not gonna start living my life in fear."
Cas was nodding. If the subject matter were not so serious, he might have smiled. Rob was sounding just like his half-sister. Gail had never been willing to sit in a gilded cage, even back in the early days of their relationship, when she had been much more vulnerable because she had been far less capable. But, like Gail, Rob was seasoned now, and presumably able to take care of himself.
It was Gail who had the concerned look on her face, in this instance. "She may be human, but she's obviously got access to dark magic, to say the least," Gail said to the men. "She's using gris-gris bags, and speaking incantations in Creole. Sounds like some kind of New Orleans voodoo, to me. Maybe we should find out if the guys have any contacts in the occult arts. Does anybody know when they're coming back?"
No one did, but before they had the chance to discuss the subject further, Frank's cell phone rang.
It was Bobby, and he was upset. "You're not gonna believe what they're telling me, here," he said to Frank.
Gail's brother looked at the phone, his forehead wrinkling. "Yeah? What's that?"
"I think you'd better get down here and hear this," Bobby said, and Frank could hear how agitated their friend was.
"OK, OK, Bobby. Calm down. I'll be right there," Frank said, placating him. "Actually, Cas and Gail are here right now. I could get them to zap me over there, if you want."
"Do that," Bobby said tersely, and then he hung up the phone.
"What's going on?" Gail asked her brother.
"I don't know," he said, thoughtful. "Bobby's at Angela's school. He wanted to pick her up, today. He's kind of into this whole 'Grandpa' thing. So I said sure. She's been going for a week now, and she's been so excited when she gets home every day. I just figured he wanted in on that. But he sounds pissed off. I guess we'd better get down there and find out what's going on." He looked at Rob, who gave him a half-shrug. "I'll stay here, Dad," his son said. Then Rob smiled thinly. "Don't worry; if someone named Alice comes to the door, I won't open it."
Gail did a double-take. Wow. She wasn't sure how she felt about hearing Rob joke around like that. He was obviously trying to be like his dad, but there were very few people who could get away with that sort of humour. Frank used irreverent jokes and inappropriate comments to cover up his pain, but Rob had always worn his heart on his sleeve, and Gail didn't want to see him lose that quality.
But Rob was Frank's kid, not hers. And right now, it sounded like there might be a problem with his other child. "Let's go," she said, extending her hand to her brother.
"I'm Angela's father, Frank," Gail's brother said to the teacher. "And you must be Ms. Palmer."
"Betty," she said, extending her hand. "I saw you at Orientation, but we didn't get a chance to talk then. Angela's a lovely girl. She's a pleasure to have in my class. And from what I've been able to see so far, she's very bright, too."
"Well, I've gotta say, I'm relieved to hear that," Frank said, smiling. "I was afraid you were going to tell me she was in trouble, or something."
"No, not at all," the teacher said, "although, I think I upset Angela's grandfather." She appraised Cas and Gail. "And, you are..."
"Sorry," Frank said quickly. "This is my sister Gail, and her husband, Cas. Angela's aunt and uncle," he added, somewhat unnecessarily. "They were at my house when Bobby - Angela's Grandpa - called."
"Oh." Betty looked at the quartet. They must be a close family. These three had certainly gotten here fast enough. Bobby was sitting in a chair opposite her desk with his arms folded, frowning. She sighed.
"So, what's going on?" Frank wanted to know.
"Go ahead and show them that stuff you were showing me," Bobby said to the teacher. "Go ahead. Show 'em," he repeated, gesturing.
"It's our Emergency Preparedness Kit," Ms. Palmer explained, handing the paperwork to Frank. "Every child has to take this material home, and learn it. So do the parents. We need you to initial and date each page, keep a copy for yourself, and return a copy to us for Angela's file. We need verification that she understands the material, and we'll need you to fill out the form that details her medical history, including her blood type."
Frank looked at all the paperwork with an incredulous expression. "Ummm...this is Grade 1, not an application for the FBI. I mean, come on. All this, so you can teach her how to line up for a fire drill? Single file, follow your teacher, walk, don't run. There. Done. That's how they did it in my school. I don't imagine it's changed much," he said mildly.
"It ain't a fire drill," Bobby said with an edge to his voice. "Look closer. It's instructions on what to do in case some maniac comes here to shoot up the school."
Frank's mouth dropped open as he shuffled through the papers again. "You're kidding me, right?"
"I'm afraid not," Betty replied. "I understand it's upsetting..."
"Upsetting?!" Bobby exclaimed. "She's just a little girl!"
"Do you think I don't know that?" Betty said, and now, there was an edge to her voice, too. "Surely you must be aware of what's been going on in the schools and workplaces all over our country. Preparing for school shootings is part of the curriculum, now."
Wow, Gail thought. She couldn't come up with another word. Just...wow. Little kids Angela's age, having to think about crap like that. Gail remembered when she'd been just about Angela's age, seeing a headline in the newspaper her dad - correction, Frank's dad - was reading: "Nuclear War May Be Imminent". Gail had been terrified. Even at her tender age, she'd known what that meant. She'd run crying, not to her adoptive parents, but to Frank. A pretty telling fact right there, in retrospect. Her brother had reassured her, saying that they said junk like that in the papers all the time. Sensational headlines sold papers. It was simple math. He told her not to worry; the Russians didn't give a crap about bombing their little house in the middle of no place. He'd made her feel better about the whole thing. Frank was right, Gail realized. She was panicking for nothing.
But now, there was this. The facts were ugly, but indisputable. School shootings were all too common in the United States these days, and little children weren't exempt. Gail felt nauseous as she looked at pictures of brightly-coloured window shades for the windows in classroom doors. Rainbows, butterflies...All very pretty and very innocent, until you realized that the designs were for something called "lockdown shades".
"'Lockdown shades'?" Cas said aloud, mirroring his wife's thought pattern. "What are those?"
"What the hell do ya think they are, Cas?" Bobby said angrily. This whole thing was extremely disturbing to him. What had the world come to? When had they become a society that had to worry about their kids becoming murder victims, when they had barely even learned how to read and write?
"It's an unfortunate fact of life, for our generation," Ms. Palmer said grimly. "My sister was a victim of the Blackburn Elementary School shootings earlier this year, so believe me, I realize how heartbreaking it is to even contemplate." A tear squeezed out of the corner of her eye and dribbled down her cheek, and the teacher removed her glasses, swiping almost angrily at it. "Lois died protecting the kids in her class. These were kids not much older than Angela, whose only crime was showing up for school that day. It was the same with Lois. All she ever wanted to do, practically since she was a kid herself, was to teach kids. Help them to grow, and succeed. When she heard the gunshots down the hall, she put a couple of the more mature kids in charge of evacuating the smaller ones out the back door of the classroom. They were lucky; it just so happened that there was an adjoining door there that led to the library, which had an emergency exit. So, while the kids were making their escape, Lois went out into the hallway, to get the shooter's attention. She tried to reason with him, according to witnesses. He shot her, anyway, and then she died, still trying to persuade him to leave the kids alone. But she died a heroine: her entire class survived."
They had all been shocked into silence by Angela's teacher's story. Frank continued to stare unbelievingly at the literature he'd been given. Instructions for the kids on how to stay quiet during a lockdown. How to protect themselves during an active shooting. Pamphlets on how to deal with the trauma associated with a shooting, either at your child's school, or at another. There were things called "lockdown drill bags" that contained, among other items, lollipops that the kids could suck on, to soothe them and keep them quiet. And the most heart-clenching thing of all: Lockdown "nursery rhymes", to help the kids remember what to do: "Underneath the desk and hide, wait until it's safe outside." Good God. Holy, mother-loving...
"You know, this generation of children may have a lot more conveniences and technology at their disposal than we had in our day, but they also have many more issues to worry about. Serious ones," Betty continued in a somber tone. "School shootings, terrorism, nuclear wars..." Gail looked at her sharply. Apparently, that particular one was a fear that transcended generations. "...abduction by serial killers, et cetera," Betty went on. She sighed wistfully. "Remember when our biggest worry was whether we would get that new bike we so desperately wanted for Christmas? Kids should be able to hang onto that kind of innocence as long as possible. They grow up fast enough, as it is. Why can't we give them at least a few years of believing in Santa Claus, and the Easter Bunny, and unicorns...?"
Now, Betty started to cry in earnest. She took her glasses off again and wiped her eyes with her hands. Bobby sprang out of his chair and offered her a handkerchief. She took it, smiling tremulously.
Once Angela's teacher had collected herself a bit, she looked at them all and said, "I'm sorry, but I just love these kids so much. Each and every one of them. Even the little hellions."
They all laughed, grateful for the opportunity to cut through the sadness and horror of the subject matter.
"That's why I'm still here," she went on. "That's why I keep going. After Lois died, people asked me why I didn't just quit. But I'll never quit. If I do, those scumbags with the guns win. I'll never give up on my kids. Not ever. Even if I have to die for them."
They were all silent again. Then Frank cleared his throat, trying to banish the giant lump that had formed there. He extended his hand to the woman. "I'd like to thank you, on behalf of all of the parents," he said as Ms. Palmer took his hand. "You know what?" Frank continued. "For a minute there, when you were talking about all this stuff, I thought about just pulling my kid out of school altogether. Who the hell needs to worry about that kind of crap? We have those kinds of drills at City Hall, too, but I'm a big boy. The thought of kids Angela's age having to worry about getting shot..." He cleared his throat again, and Gail put her hand on her brother's arm, giving it a squeeze. She knew better than anyone else how much he was struggling to hang onto his emotions right now. Frank put his arm around Gail's shoulders. "But, it's people like you who make me believe that things can be better. I'm glad you're Angela's teacher," Frank told the woman. They shook hands and Betty sniffled back a few more tears, using Bobby's handkerchief again.
"Keep it," Bobby said gruffly. "I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time, earlier. All of this just came as a helluva shock. In my day, things were a lot different."
"Believe me, I get it," Betty replied, nodding. She looked at all of their faces and smiled, and this time, her smile was warm and genuine. "You know, it's good to see a family that's so close, and so invested in a child's well-being. That makes ME believe that things can be better."
"We'd better get going," Frank said. "I'm gonna be peeling my kid off the ceiling, as it is. Every day, she comes home jumping up and down, telling me and her brother all about everything she's learning, and the books you're reading, and the friends she's making...You're gonna have to cut down on the caffeine you're giving those kids," Frank quipped.
Betty looked at him uncertainly, and Gail rolled her eyes. "Don't mind my brother. That's his sense of humour," Gail said to the teacher. "He thinks he's really funny, but he's an acquired taste, let's just put it that way."
"I think Frank is very funny," Cas piped up. "Almost as funny as I am."
"Well, there's a ringing endorsement for ya," Bobby said dryly. "Come on, gang, let's go."
This time, Betty did laugh. What a wonderful family.