'The Hierophant' or: A Friend of the Devil is a Friend of Mine

Previously Once upon a time, there was a cowboy. He was drownin' in debt. Ended up owin’ money to a guy named Larry and his goons, Hugo and Jimmy. Ended up gettin’ out of it when a well-timed heart attack put Larry in his grave. Turns out, the whole thing was a setup by his brother Frankie, but that’s a story for another time.

Once upon a time, there was a cowboy. He fell for a little lady named Bambi and put a bun in her oven. She was the light of his dim little life and everything was alright until he realized there weren’t nothin’ strong enough to clean the depths of his soul. She left and had her baby without him, but that’s a story for another time.

Once upon a time, there was a cowboy. He went to Europe on a wrasslin’ tour and met with a talent agent named Vera. She sucked him dry; literally, figuratively, and otherwise. Crawled her way into his heart like a cancer and etched out a place for herself. Later, when it all came tumblin’ down and she found herself layin’ in a pool of her own blood, she’d look back and wonder what went wrong, but that’s a story for another time.

Once upon a time, there was a cowboy. His name was Daytona Diamonds.

I reckon that’s as good a place to start as any…

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I. Three Peas in a Pod

It went like this.

After Portugal, Bambi left and I hadn’t seen her since. Didn’t leave no letter or nothin’. She just disappeared into the ether, baby in her belly and a knife still stickin’ out her back.

Vera, she kissed my cheek and decided to stay behind in Europe. Ain't exchanged more’n two words since. I reckon I should’ve seen that comin’, but that didn't make it hurt no less.

For the first time in a long time, I was a ship without a captain, driftin’ them lonesome waters with no port to call home…

So, I went back to where it all began.

I went back to Vegas.

The city hadn’t changed without me in it. It was still the same hardboiled hellhole it'd always been. The gamblers gambled, the whores whored, and lights still shined brighter'n the day of God’s creation. Despite everything, there was some comfort in that; the more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

Of course, just 'cause my failures as a husband had left me livin’ on the outskirts of the American Dream, that didn’t mean I was all by myself…

I was sittin’ in a diner a few miles south of The Strip called Hank’s. It tried to pull off that 1950s kitsch, but all it really managed to do was look like the greasiest spoon in the silverware drawer. I was on one side of the booth and Hugo Alvarez was on the other, cuttin’ his butter knife through a stack of pancakes. I was just sippin’ on a cup of coffee, tryna maintain some sense of composure, but ‘neath that table, I was grippin’ a steak knife just in case Hugo decided to try anything funny. Can’t never let your guard down ‘round a rabid dog.

In Vera’s absence, Hugo had become her proxy; her right hand. I didn’t like that, but any complaints I had fell on deaf ears. Hugo sure as shit weren’t listenin’, Vera weren’t takin’ my calls, and ol’ George Jorgensen only ever laughed and told me I was overreactin’. Didn’t feel like I was overreactin’, though. Felt more like I’d walked my way into a maze and got myself lost without realizin’ it.

“You heard from Vera?” I asked, gazin’ ‘cross the table. “Startin’ to wonder what the plan is here. Startin’ to feel like I’m just twiddlin’ my thumbs waitin’.”

“Don't worry,” Hugo asked with his mouth half full. “It’s fine. Ms. Venturi is fine. Everything is fine. You just keep on wrestling and keep on winning. Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither was The So-Called Celebrity of Daytona Diamonds, alright? Drink your fucking coffee.”

“Yeah, alright,” I said. “But like… c’mon. Ain’t no way they’re being this damn quiet for no good reason. What’re they tellin’ you? They got some commercials lined up for me? Guest spots on any TV shows? Gotta gimme somethin’ to work with here, Hugo.”

He didn’t say nothin', just kept slicin’ at his pancakes.

“Y’know, this ain’t like the old days,” I said. “With you and Larry shootin’ at my feet, tellin’ me to dance. Shit’s changed! This ain’t no fly by night operation! I signed a contract! These guys are professionals and you gotta be one too, goddangit! Y’gotta give me somethin’ to fuckin’ work wit–”

Suddenly, Hugo slammed his fist down on the table. Few folks looked over their shoulder to see what the commotion was, but they didn’t say nothin’.

“I don’t gotta give you jackshit, Daytona,” Hugo said. “Now... Drink. Your. Fucking. Coffee.”

I sneered and Hugo went back to eatin'.

“Fine, but you ain’t gotta be such a peckerwood ‘bout it…" I muttered. "Draggin’ me out to a fuckin’ diner… Wastin’ my goddang time… Ain’t even tellin’ me why we’re here…”

“We’re waiting for someone,” Hugo said. “Happy now?”

“Now, was that so hard?” I asked. “Who're we waitin’ for? Ol’ Jorgensen catch a red-eye to Vegas? Don’t tell me Vera’s on her way, I ain’t even wearin’ my good hat!”

“Think you’re waiting for me,” a familiar voice spoke up from behind me. “Scoot over, Daytona.”

Right ‘bout then was when I realized there was a shadow castin’ itself ‘cross the booth; tall, wide, and mean as hell. I reckon I knew exactly who it was ‘fore I even turned to see; 'nother ghost from my past come to haunt the present. Soon as my eyes looked over my shoulder to confirm all my worst suspicions, I felt a pang in my gut like a fist collidin’ ‘gainst my belly.

Jimmy Knuckles, Larry Lawson’s former hired muscle, Hugo's partner in crime, and the man who’d beat the everlovin’ shit outta me on a weekly basis just to shake out a few coins outta my pockets.

Needless to say, I weren’t too happy to see him.

I jumped outta that booth and up on the table, brandishin’ that steak knife like I was fendin' off death. Reckon that called the attention of the other patrons ‘cause, all of the sudden, every eye in that diner was on me.

“Hugo, what in the fuck is this peckerwood doin’ here?!” I shouted, sweepin' the knife through the air. “This a setup?! What’s your fuckin’ game?! You still anglin’ to kill me?!”

Hugo started laughin’. Jimmy just grinned. Here was this big motherfucker crackin’ his neck with eyes fixed on me like he was just waitin’ to rip my jugular out. If that weren’t enough, this sonuvabitch was wearin’ a shirt with THE ORIGINAL VILLAIN JASON SNOW scrawled ‘cross the chest. Sonuvabitch!

“Jason fuckin' Snow send you to do me in ‘fore our match?!” I shouted, pointin’ the knife right at Jimmy. “Ain’t fuckin’ happenin’, bozo! I’ll carve you up, dicknose!”

“Damn, Daytona,” Jimmy said. “I figured you’d be happier to see me. Ain’t we old friends?”

“We ain’t old shit!” I shouted back. “You wanna go?! Let’s fuckin’ go!”

All of a sudden, Hugo’s hand shot up and grabbed me ‘round the wrist. ‘Fore I could even react, Jimmy slapped the shit outta my hand and the knife went skitterin’ 'cross the linoleum as the crowd of onlookers gasped out loud. I kick my feet, but Jimmy just swept my legs out from ‘neath me. I went fallin’ backwards on the table, landin’ flatbacked with all the wind rushin’ outta me. Hugo guarded his plate of food. My cup of coffee weren’t so lucky. Jimmy just shook his head, takin’ a seat on my side of the booth as I lay there gaspin’ like a fish outta water.

“Jimmy and me are a package deal, Daytona,” Hugo said, nonchalantly. “I already talked to Ms. Venturi about it. Congratulations, buddy. You’ve got two guardian angels now instead of one.”

Layin’ there starin’ up at the rainrotted ceilin’ tiles and fluorescent lights and cobwebs, I was startin’ to think that maybe I'd made a huge mistake.

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II. On the Road

After our little confrontation in the diner, it weren’t long ‘fore the manager started threatenin’ to call the cops, so Hugo and Jimmy peeled me off the table, carried me out, and stuffed me in the backseat of Hugo’s car. From there, we started drivin’.

The city gave way to the suburbs and then the suburbs gave way to the desert. After awhile, it weren’t nothin’ but tumbleweeds, dirt farms, and billboard signs. They didn’t tell me where we was goin’ and I didn’t ask for fear of settin’ one of ‘em off. It ain’t hard to recognize when you’re danglin’ in limbo by a thread; all it’d take is one little snap to send you hurtlin’ down.

The radio was hissin’ mariachi static. My eyes stayed transfixed on all that vacant wilderness passin’ by. This was the land that God forgot about, the unused space where he might’ve had somethin’ planned had he not already overspent the budget. Hugo was drivin’,  ashin’ a cigarette out the window. Jimmy sat stoic, eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest. Me, I started wonderin’ if I should throw open the back door, tuck and roll ‘fore things turned ugly.

But I never were no good at keepin’ my mouth shut.

“So, what’s with the Jason Snow shirt, Jimmy?” I asked, tryna sound casual. “You just fuckin’ with me?”

“Would you believe me if I told you we used to be in the mob together?” Jimmy asked.

“Hell no,” I muttered, shakin’ my head. “You’re from fuckin’ Oklahoma. Ain’t no mob in Oklahoma.”

“Heh, you’re not as gullible as you used to be,” Jimmy said, lookin’ back at me through the rearview mirror. “What can I say? I’m a fan. Longest reigning Universal Champion, mean as a motherfucker, still kicking ass at his age. That deserves respect, don’t it?”

“It don’t deserve shit,” I said. “First off, fuck him for bein’ bald; probably makes more money'n I do, least he could do is buy some Rogaine. Second off, someone oughta tell him the sun exists so’s he stops lookin’ like a piece of uncooked chicken. Third off, fuck his reign, this ain’t ‘09! Game’s done changed! I deal the cards nowadays! If I’d been ‘round back then, that reign would’ve been over right fuckin’ quick!”

“Naw, that don’t sound right to me, Daytona,” Jimmy said. “You would've still just been pretending you were hot shit when everyone knows you’re just a glorified jobber with a glitter thrown on top.”

“...yeah, well, fuck you, Jimmy,” I muttered. “I’m the goddang future of this business. Jason Snow’s just a nostalgia act for dumb fucks livin’ in the past...”

“Well, that nostalgia act’s about to take that title off your hands,” Jimmy said. “He's a legend, after all.”

“Yeah, well, so was fuckin' Youngblood,” I said. “Just you watch. I’m gonna beat his ass two ways to Sunday and you’re gonna have to use that shirt of yours to wipe up the tears. Suck a dick, Jimmy. Hope you fuckin’ choke on it.”

“That’s enough,” Hugo said. “Both of you. Jesus fucking Christ… I ain’t listening to this all the way to Cora’s place.”

Cora. There was a new name. I shut my yap and started listenin’. Jimmy rolled his eyes and looked away from the rearview mirror.

“Sorry, Hugo. Just making up for lost time,” He said. “How much further we gotta go anyway? Feels like we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“That’s because we are in the middle of nowhere,” Hugo said. “Not much further now, though. Far be it from me to question her ways, but I don’t know why she can’t just live in Vegas like the rest of us.”

I didn’t have a goddang clue who Cora was or where she fit in. My mind started playin’ tricks, runnin’ through the worst possible outcomes, but it didn'tt sound like they were plannin’ to kill me. I figured my best option was to just sit back and enjoy the ride. The sun was settin’ in the west, settin’ the sky on fire. As much as I hated bein’ stuck in a car with Hugo and Jimmy, there was a part of me that felt like it was exactly where I was ‘sposed to be. I ain’t never believed in fate and destiny’s a crock of shit, but after a few months outside Nevada, I guess it just felt good to be back. Familiarity breeds comfort even if that familiarity is two fuckin’ goons who used to beat the shit outta’ve you.

It weren’t long ‘fore we turned down a dirt road flanked on either side by barbwire fencin’. Up ahead, there was an ol’ house built outta splinters, sittin’ all by its lonesome. Termite-chewed walls, a screen door full-a holes, lights shinin’ out through cracks in the curtains. It looked like a shithole, but that weren’t the weird part. The weird part was that every square inch of that sidin’ was painted with symbols in red paint.

I’m talkin’ pentagrams, snakes eatin’ their own tails, eyes on top of pyramids, hexagrams and hullabaloo and shit I ain’t never even seen before. We pulled up next to the front porch; there weren’t no other cars there, no other signs of life save for the lights in the trailer. Hugo turned off the engine and then he turned ‘round in the driver’s seat to look at me dead in the eyes.

“Listen, Daytona,” He said. “We’re gonna go in there and you’re gonna be on your best fucking behavior, you get me? This is important.”

“...the fuck is this, Hugo?” I asked, more confused than anythin’ else.

“This is Cora’s place,” He said. “She’s gonna help us talk to Larry.”

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III. Memento Mori

All the way from the car, ‘cross the dirt driveway, and up the set of stairs leadin’ to the front door, I was sayin’ things like “this is dumber’n fuck” and “ya’ll lost your goddang minds” and “why in god’s good name would I wanna talk to a dead sonuvabitch like Larry”, but Hugo weren’t listenin’ and Jimmy just kept pushin’ me along. Up on the front porch, Hugo gave three quick knocks ‘gainst the screen door.

“The hell I even gotta be here for?” I asked. “Last time I got involved with this sorta shit, I thought a goddang shaman kidnapped Frankie. I ain’t got no business bein’ here!”

“You were there when Larry died,” Hugo said. “We all were.”

“Hell, you could even argue you’re the reason he died.” Jimmy said and I sneered.

“Cora says having you here will help reach him on the otherside,” Hugo said. “I’ve got some things I need to settle with him, so you’re just gonna have to grin and bear it, Daytona.”

“That don’t make a goddang bit of sense!” I shouted. “And who the hell’s this Cora lady anyway?! She some kinda grifte–”

Suddenly, the front door opened up wide. All three of us looked up and, standin’ there in the doorway was a woman just a couple years younger’n me. She had wavy blonde hair careenin’ off her head like a waterfall, black eyeliner surroundin’ her eyes, dressed up like like she’d heard one too many Stevie Nicks songs and decided to make it her whole life.

I didn’t even recognize her ‘til she smiled real big and looked me dead in the eyes.

“I was wondering when you three would show up. Good to see you, Hugo. You too, Jimmy,” she said. “Daytona, it’s been a long time.”

It all hit me at once and I reckon it felt like a punch in the gut. Y’see, a long time back when I was still in my twenties and even wilder’n I am now, I knew this girl who liked to party. Y’know the type. Always drinkin', sittin’ on boys laps at parties, pickin’ her targets and hittin’ the bullseye every goddang time. Well, reckon she aimed for me and reckon we spent one night fuckin’ like rabbits and reckon she came a couple weeks later sayin’ she was pregnant and I reckon I disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Y’all can see where this is goin’.

Her name, in case you ain’t figured it out, was Cora.

I was shell-shocked. Cora, still all smiles, invited the three of us in and I’ll be damned if I didn’t follow after her on stumblin' feet. Her livin’ room was exactly what you’d expect: antique furniture, each nook and cranny filled with tarot cards and books ‘bout witchcraft and jars of crystals. There was a coffee table in the middle of it all with a crystal ball sittin’ in the middle.

“We’re gonna have to be quiet,” she whispered, glancin’ in my direction. “Natalie’s in her room and it… might be a good idea if she doesn’t come out.”

Natalie. She didn’t even hafta tell me who that was. I already knew.

“Fair enough,” Hugo said. “Probably for the best. Right, Daytona?”

We all sat down ‘round the coffee table, Hugo and Jimmy on the sofa and me in the recliner. Cora dimmed the lights. She came over and sat down in between Hugo and Jimmy, softly clapping’ her hands ‘fore lookin’ at each of us.

“Alright, so,” she began. “Hugo’s already given me the basics. We’re reaching out to… mm… Larry Lawson, right?"

“That’s right,” Hugo said. “He passed away a couple months ago and… well, I’ve got a question for him.”

“And all three of you were there when he died?” She asked.

“Some of us more than others,” Jimmy said, noddin’ towards me.

“Fuck off, Jimmy,” I said. “‘Bout tired of hearin’ you.”

Jimmy was ‘bout to open his mouth to talk more shit when Cora held up her hand.

“Positive energy only,” she said, soft spoken but stern as hell. “Otherwise, this will never work.”

Me and Jimmy both exchanged glances, but we both shut up. Cora always had known how to control a room.

“I want us all to close our eyes,” she said. “I want everyone to think about Larry. A specific memory, a moment, a feeling he gave you. Think of him and I’ll start channeling.”

I closed ‘em just like she asked, but I weren’t thinkin' ‘bout Larry. I just thought 'bout the last time I saw Cora. She was sittin’ on my shitty couch in my shitty apartment, cryin’ her eyes out all on account of the pregnancy test sittin’ in her lap. I’d just snorted up a thick line of coke five minutes ‘fore she walked in, so I was just starin’ at her and with my skeleton tryna vibrate outta my skin. When she left, I gave her a hug and told her everything was gonna be alright, but I’d already made up my mind I weren’t gonna ever have nothin’ to do with her again.

Life’s a funny thing, ain’t it?

When I opened up my eyes, the mood in the room had changed. Cora was sittin’ there with her eyes rolled back in her head, jaw hangin’ open. All three of us were watchin' her, waitin’ for somethin’ to happen, but when it didn’t, I finally spoke up.

“Cora…?” I asked. “Y’alright?”

She didn’t say nothin’ for what felt like thirty seconds ‘fore she suddenly gasped out loud, whole body shudderin’ ‘fore she blinked and looked ‘round the room at each of us.

“…where am I?” she asked, but her voice was all wrong; raspy and rough. “What am I doing here…?”

“Larry…?” Hugo asked. “Is that you…?”

After a short pause, Cora’s head turned to look right at Hugo. “…yes.”

“Holy shit,” Jimmy muttered. “It actually fucking worked.”

I weren’t as convinced as Hugo or Jimmy, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t creeped right out. I shifted nervously in the recliner and watched the scene unfold, clenchin’ my hands into fists ‘til the knuckles turned white.

“Alright,” Hugo said, voice quiverin’. “Sorry to… uh… bother you, I guess? Me and Jimmy, we got a question for you.”

“Ask,” Cora hissed.

“So… you died, right? You died and… when you did… you didn’t leave us nothing,” Hugo said. “Not a dime… and… hell, we worked for you for fifteen years. So, I guess we just wanted to ask if… if that was some kind of…”

“We wanted to know if that was a mistake,” Jimmy spoke up. “Or if you meant to leave us high and dry.”

I just ‘bout laughed. Couldn’t fuckin’ help it. These two had dragged me ‘cross hell and half of Nevada just to ask a goddang ghost if he meant to shortchange them in his will. Cora was quiet for a real long time, like the spirit of Larry was processin’ the question, but when she finally replied? Well, all hell broke loose.

“No,” she said. “It wasn’t a mistake. Why would I leave you anything at all?”

Hugo and Jimmy both sat there starin’. Neither of ‘em said nothin’, but you could feel the tension in the room shiftin’. I watched Hugo as his hands balled themselves into fists, eyeballs startin’ to twitch, his upper lip hitchin’ into a snarl. He jumped up to his feet and, next thing I knew, he had his hands wrapped ‘round Cora’s throat, chokin' her while he screamed bloody murder.

“You sonuvabitch!” he shouted. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you all over again, you piece of shit!”

“Woah, woah!” Jimmy said, startin’ to stand. Cora was gaspin’ out loud, slappin’ at Hugo’s forearms. Somehow, the coffee table got kicked over and the crystal ball went rollin’ ‘cross the floor. Jimmy started tryna pull him off her, but it weren’t no use… and that’s when I jumped up and threw myself into the fray.

Without even thinkin’ ‘bout it, I threw back my arm and sent a fist hurtlin’ towards Hugo’s face. He looked up just as my knuckles collided with his jaw, sendin’ his head sideways 'fore his grip loosened ‘round Cora’s throat. I reared back again and threw another punch for good measure, hittin’ him right in the eye ‘fore he went crumblin’ to the floor.

Me and Jimmy stood there starin’ down at him while Cora tried to regain her composure, breath hitchin’ in her chest.

“Well shit,” Jimmy said, puttin’ his hands on his his hips. “I… uh… sorry about that, Cora.”

“It’s… it’s okay,” Cora said.

My looked down at my knuckles as Jimmy hoisted a dazed Hugo to his feet. Jimmy nodded towards Cora ‘fore reachin’ into Hugo’s front pocket and pullin’ out two wadded up hundred dollar bills. He threw ‘em down on the couch, still mutterin’ apologies as he carried Hugo towards the front door. All that chaos was replaced with silence, just me and Cora alone in her livin’ room, ‘fore I looked up and saw a young girl standin’ in the kitchen with her jaw hangin’ open. Cora noticed her right after I did and started to stand up from the couch.

“Natalie, it’s okay, it’s jus–”

It was too late. That look of astonishment was quickly replaced by a look of anger ‘fore Natalie went rushin’ back down the hall towards her room. I’d only gotten a quick glimpse of her, but it was enough to make my soul wanna leave my body.

“Shit,” Cora sighed, rubbin’ at her throat.

“...y’alright?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Cora said. “I’m fine… goddammit, I knew I shouldn’t have done this with her here…”

“Hey, it’s alright,” I said, sittin’ down beside her. “We… uh… we all make mistakes, right?”

Cora just nodded.

Outside, I heard the car start up, but it didn’t pull away just yet.

“So, uh… Natalie, huh?” I asked. “Is she… is she mine?”

I already knew the answer and Cora just looked at me like I was a dumbass. I ran my hand through my hair and bit at my lower lip, lookin’ down at the floor

“...listen, Cora,” I started. “I just wanna say… y’know… I’m sorry ‘bout no–”

“Don’t,” Cora said. “Let’s just… not do that, Daytona. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said. “Sorry.”

There was that silence again. I guess neither of us knew what to say. After a few awkward moments, I nodded my head and stood up, startin’ to walk towards the door. ‘Fore I could reach it, I heard Cora behind me, “Daytona, wait a sec…”

I looked over my shoulder and saw her standin’ up, still clearin’ her throat. She disappeared into the kitchen, but came back quick holdin’ a piece of paper. She walked right up to me and held it out. I took it and looked down to see a phone number written’ on it.

“I don’t… I don’t know if it matters, but…” she paused, tryna figure out the right words. “...I’ve told Natalie about you. She’s even… she’s watched a few of your matches. And… y’know… if you ever wanted to try to make up for lost time…”

“...shit, okay,” I muttered, lookin’ up from the paper to see tears formin’ at the corners of her eyes. “I mean… I’ve gotta be in Sacramento next week and then I gotta… I gotta…”

“Let’s not do that either,” she said. “You can… you can just throw that piece of paper away the second you walk out of here, if you wanna. But… the offer’s on the table, okay? That’s all. You just have to call.”

I bit at my lower lip and nodded my head, lookin’ back down at that piece of paper in the palm of my hand. Outside, I heard the car’s horn honkin’, snappin’ me back to reality.

“Alright… uh…” I started, but the horn honked again. “...I guess I gotta go, but…”

“It’s okay,” Cora said. “Just… good luck with your match, okay?”

“Oh. Yeah. Thanks,” I muttered. “I guess I’ll be seein’ you around, huh…?”

She just nodded. I stepped back out into the night, head spinnin’ and body feelin’ heavy. I took one last look at that piece of paper ‘fore I tucked it in my pocket. When I got to the car, Jimmy was behind the wheel and Hugo was laid out in the backseat, still groanin’. I climbed into the passenger side, tryin’ my best not to breakdown right there and then. Jimmy sat with his hands on the wheel, lookin’ at me out the corners of his eyes.

“...you good?” He asked, somethin’ like concern on his voice.

“Naw,” I said, bucklin' my seatbelt. “Pretty far from it, Jimmy.”

The car backed up and, just like that, we drove off into the night.