THE FIRST SIN
BY LISA BETH DARLING
2017-ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
CHAPTER SIX
BABYLON
Five thousand dollars wasn’t a lot of money, I knew that, I knew I’d need more if I was going to live the type of lifestyle befitting someone of my stature. I knew exactly where I could make that happen; Las Vegas. I jumped on US-93 and less than six hours later I was greeted by the Bright Lights and electrically charged atmosphere of the Gambling Capital of the United States. To say that I was hit with Cultural Shock or Sensory Overload would be putting it mildly this was no Podunk town in the Middle of Nowhere. This was Vegas, baby. Everything and everyone was up for grabs. I don’t think I’d ever seen a more beautiful sight.
I checked in to a hotel, had the bellman bring up my bags and gave him a twenty dollar tip before retiring for a few hours while I researched the Mortals favored games of chance. When I was ready I showered, shaved, perfumed, put on my finest second-hand suit and headed out the door with three thousand dollars in my pocket. By the end of the night I was fifty-seven thousand dollars richer and indulged the most pleasurable company of four young hot nubile women who’d zeroed in on me at the Craps Table where I stood drinking, throwing dice, and whipping the party up into a frenzy. The next morning as I bid them adieu the hotel called and offered to comp me a larger room for the remainder of my stay.
I wandered around the streets of Vegas in the daylight and treated myself to a tailored suit made of gray silk that felt wonderful against my skin. I ate at every buffet I could find and was treated to some of the most excellent cuisine which I ate with the proper utensils. At night, I gambled at the tables until I had parlayed my winnings into just under two-hundred thousand dollars. I took in magic shows with grand illusions, acrobatic circus where the performers seemed to have no bones as they twirled through the air, I sat in the audience to listen to music and watch Show Girls with their impossibly heavy head pieces dance and do high kicks. I did all of it while drinking the finest liquor and smoking fat aromatic cigars. Everywhere I went someone wanted to chat me up whether it was a bevy of beautiful women or handsome men. I show no bias in that area although I do prefer a woman in my bed. When it came to that, Eve had been right, that Pop Culture Thing of hers came in very handy for getting to know all of them. It worked like a charm. The entire time I was in Sin City I didn’t spend a single night alone and sleeping.
What I didn’t know was that winning so much money in one place set off some type of warning bells among the people who owned the casino. One morning I went from a catered-to High Roller to being quietly asked to leave with my winnings and not returning. Lesson learned. I took my business elsewhere, moved in to a fancier hotel, gambled at their casino where I won and lost money before leaving to spread my magick around the multitude of other casinos—big and small—within easy walking distance. I won more money. I met more people. I drank more alcohol and attained affection for marijuana as well as speed. I fucked more women—and a few men. Despite several attempts on their parts I did manage to escape entering a marriage chapel. I danced and partied in some of the classiest of nightclubs, got stone cold drunk and shot pool in some of the lowest. I made contacts and friends in both places. Wheeling and dealing came next and although I didn’t yet have my Powers back I could still fulfill most of the Earthly desires of the Humans around me. In return, some point down the road, they would owe me a favor and I would call it in and expect it to be honored without question. I dabbled in everything from drugs and guns to smuggling works of high-end art. Each deal led me a little higher up the food chain, gained me a little more respect as it broadened my reputation; my Brand as Eve might have called it. I stayed out of the spotlight of course never once had the police show up at my door and I never took a single dime for my illicit services. No, I kept making my money the old-fashioned way; I won it.
After four months, I rolled out of Las Vegas in a fully-restored 1968 black GTO. I had a boatload of contacts in my phone and nearly a million dollars spread evenly across several new bank accounts. The paperwork Raph gave me was all I needed to open a checking account, a high-yield savings account, and the Financial Advisor talked me into making what he called ‘long term investments’ in stocks and bonds. With my new debit card, internet account, and checkbook, I could access my money from anywhere in the world which was much safer than lugging it around in a duffle bag which was what I had been doing.
Yet, I still didn’t have my Powers or even a flicker of them and I began to wonder just long this temporary condition was going to last. It didn’t matter, having made my impact on Vegas it was time to leave and hit the open road again. Time to make a lasting impact somewhere else and there were so many places to see it seemed a shame to just stop and put down roots in the first one I came across it no matter how well it suited me. I thought Los Angeles might be a good place for me to check out. It didn’t have the gambling of Vegas but it did have a lot of people with big dreams looking to make big deals. I thought it could be fun.
I was wrong.
The place was massive and sprawled in every direction as far as the eye could see. Everywhere I went I was met with the stench of desperation. The people were too ready, too eager, to please and make deals of which they couldn’t possibly hold up their ends. Everything about everyone in that town was fake; from their hair, to their boobs, and their lips and their butts. It didn’t take long for me to realize those people were already in Hell so there was no need for my talents in LA. I stayed long enough to make a few meaningful contacts for later use before heading eastward. From LA I drove north to Reno which was much like Vegas only smaller. I didn’t make any contacts but I did make quite a bit more money at their casinos for my trip. From Reno I drove eastward across the country to Denver where I took in the local culture and wonderful crisp air. I rode horses and fucked wanna-be cowgirls by camp fires. Of course, I made a few contacts and did a few favors. Continuing eastward I drove through the ample farmlands of Kansas and next stopped in Saint Louis. Finding the Midwestern city to be nice enough but to my exact liking, I stayed long enough to rest, refuel, drink, and make a contact or two before moving on. In a single day I drove through Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, a slice of West Virginia before stopping in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Liking the historic atmosphere and the easily accessible seedier side of the city, I stayed there for a month soaking it all in. Getting to know the people, honing my skills, still wondering where my Powers were but not letting that stop me. When I left I made a slight detour and drove on down to Atlantic City, New Jersey to take in the salty shoreline and the casinos knowing it would be my last chance to make a good chunk of fast cash. It was summer on the boardwalk the scent of coconut oil was heavy in the air as the bronzed bodies of real people enjoyed the sunshine with hot dogs, ice cream cones, French fries, and clam fritters. They were better than those back in LA. With no pretense they showed it all off from the skinniest to the flabbiest and they did so with grins on their faces as they lay on beaches and frolicked in the rolling waves of the Atlantic Ocean.
Between the Boardwalk and the casinos I made a plethora of new contacts and did a few favors. Playing at the Craps Table, Blackjack, and Poker at the area’s seven casinos I left with another hundred and fifty thousand dollars in my pocket before heading to what I hoped would be a long-term destination; New York City. I’d heard so much about the place I simply had to experience it for myself.
Upon my arrival I was not disappointed. Emerging from the Holland Tunnel into the City of Manhattan was like entering the Gates of the Silver City. I could almost hear my Brothers singing; “Ahhhhhhhh” as the feeling that I was finally home washed over me. I drove around in heavy traffic listening to honking horns and shouting drives for what seemed like hours as I watched the streets absolutely littered with people move as though it were all one great big organism. Behind the wheel I was absolutely giddy as the wide grin broke out on my face and my heart picked up speed. “This is it,” I told myself over the blare of the radio and noise of the street.
Finding shelter in New York was not as easy as I had hoped it would be. Not even with all of the money I had on my person. It seemed apartments and housing was at an absolute premium. I ended up sleeping in the GTO for a week before I got a tip from a contact regarding a newly opened apartment. I rushed right over to see the unfurnished seven hundred and nine square foot one bedroom/one bathroom apartment on 34th street and was bowled over to hear the rent was thirty-five hundred dollars a month. I thought it was nothing short of highway robbery and know that at that rate my money wouldn’t last long. But it was clean, comfortable, and most importantly, it would keep me and my belongings sheltered until I could scale the New York Ladder. Showing all of my proper paperwork, I sealed the deal on my first residence outside the Kingdom of Hell. The real estate agent gave me the keys, my parking permit, and her cellphone number telling me to call her when I finished moving in, she’d love to come back and see the place.
Move in I did. It took a grand total of two trips to get everything I owed out of the GTO and to the second floor apartment. It was then that I realized how big seven hundred and nine square feet might be. I slept on the floor that night. The next morning I called a few more of contacts. By dinnertime I had a fully furnished and well-decorated living space, all at no cost to me. Everything from the bed, couch, chairs, tables, TV, sheets, full dining sets, proper utensils, towels, and even fully stocked cabinets, fridge, and freezer. In my mind I marked those debts paid.
The next marked I needed to call in would be a bit harder. I needed a job. A legitimate job. With a skill set like mine coming across honest work isn’t easy. I needed something that paid well, wasn’t mundane, would keep me occupied, and get my foot in the door with the Highest of Highs and Lowest of the Lows. I hit upon an idea that made me smile as much as it me shiver as the irony was inescapable but it would work. Using my laptop and the internet I checked my account holdings to see I had a nice tidy sum of money hovering around two million dollars. I placed a phone call to a man I’d met in Atlantic City. “Hello, Raul? It’s me, it’s Lou, you know that favor you owe me, I’m calling it in. Didn’t you say you had a cousin who owns a small landscaping business on Long Island? How much do you think it would take to get him to sell it to me?”
It took some doing, the final selling price was higher than I would have liked and left me no choice but to call in markers belonging to the wealthier of my contacts. I promptly told each one of them they were about to invest in my new business venture. Each one coughed up a hefty sum of money to clear their marker. By the end of the month I was the proud new owner of CJ Landscaping and I quickly renamed it Lucifer’s Garden of Eden. The company came with all of its equipment and fifty employees who serviced some of the finest mansions in East Hampton all I had to do when the newly renamed and painted trucks rolled up to take care of business was walk up to the doors and casually introduce myself.
My winning nature did the rest.
It wasn’t too long before my small company grew from fifty employees to a hundred and fifty. I covered all the best properties in the Hamptons and moved right in to the City picking up contracts private and public. In doing so, I picked up some of the richest and most powerful people in the country as allies. Believe me when I tell you that in most cases the richer someone is the shadier they are as well. Lucky me, I had all of those little employees milling about their properties listening in on their conversations as they lounged about their lush lawns and splashed in their in-ground swimming pools. The more those employees flew back to me with juicy whispers the more they got paid. Soon I had something on every single person from Patchogue to Montauk and from the Bowery to City Hall. The latter gave me in-roads with Unions as they tended to be present on larger projects in the City and all of those big buildings had nicely manicured grounds thanks to me. Contacts and deals abounded, with each one I became a little richer, a little more powerful, and a lot less dispensable.
What can I say? For the most part, gardening had always been very good to me.
Never one to refrain from using illicit information at just the right times and with just the right people, within a year I left my tiny apartment and moved into a three floor Town House. A year after that with fat City contracts rolling in, I left that place and purchased my own lovely abode in Westhampton Beach complete with a breathtaking view of the ocean. I had a full staff to cater to my every whim, women on speed dial for booty calls, though truth be told they tended to call me rather than the other way around. In the summer, I threw the most decadent parties every weekend. Everyone who was anyone came and came again. I hired live bands to play on the beach and not just any bar bands, I had several well-known bands jamming away on the sand making those lovely bikini-clad butts grind and sway from dusk to dawn as they danced with abandon by huge bon fires like the Pagans of old. The generous amounts food I served gave new meaning to gluttony, nothing but the finest all the way around. Alcohol flowed like water, drugs were plentiful though I never allowed anything other than an abundance of marijuana, a smattering of LSD reversed for more intimate occasions, and, to keep the rich happy, I tolerated their use of cocaine but I drew the line at anything other than those. It wasn’t necessarily out of any notion of nobleness but rather I simply didn’t need the type of attention that an OD on my property would draw. My life was one big party it showed no signs of stopping. That was what I came here for; a never ending good time.
In the second year of my life in Westhampton Beach, right around Christmas (my most detested holiday right after Easter), I awoke from a nightmare so real I thought it was actually happening, I sprang out of my bed with lightning speed. Every nerve in my body was full alert as it steeled itself to face the danger that was surely surrounding me. I planted my feet in the plush carpet, balled up my fists, threw out my chest and my wings exploded from my back with such force I rose off my feet and spun around in the air. Energy surged through me, Divine Energy, my Grace had returned and with it my Powers. I wanted to jump for joy and shout out with glee but a husky voice filled with sleep coming from the bed froze me in my tracks.
“Lou? You ok?”
In the moment I’d forgotten about Colleen and Kimberly who’d kept me warm that night. “Fine, Colleen, just a bad dream, that’s all. You go back to sleep, I’m going to get a drink, I’ll be back.” That satisfied her as she snuggled down under the covers next to Kimberly and wasn’t heard from again. With my heart racing I sprinted to the main bathroom on the first floor where I’d have a bit of privacy. I stared at myself in the mirror and didn’t notice any visible difference. There I was with my handsome face, coal black eyes and shoulder length hair to match staring back at me but when I called upon my wings they jutted from my shoulders upon command in their full glory knocking a bottle of soap and a bottle of shampoo from their nesting places as they spread out behind me. My back quivered making the black feathers ruffle shaking out the remains of Sulphur and ash from them. Pulling them in, I wheeled around to face the bathtub, stuck out my hand, and watched the towels fly to me as I demanded. “Yes!” I hissed and threw my fist in the air in victory. Turning back to the mirror I stared at my reflection again, “Devil eyes,” I whispered and watched as my nearly black eyes lit up glowing red. With a Cheshire Cat grin I muttered, “I’m back, baby.”
In that most joyous moment I was remiss in not remembering my nightmare or even wondering why, at this exact moment in time, my powers returned. I should have known what was coming next or at least suspected it but I hadn’t even thought of Eve since I left Grey Village. I didn’t keep in touch as promised though I did keep that low profile she wanted. To her discredit, she never tried to contact me, not a single text, phone call, or note on Facebook. To mine, I never tried to find our son, Cain, as I promised to do.
No, I didn’t think of any of those things then. Instead, I ran out onto the chilly sand in the cold night air, spread my wings and soared high into the twinkling sky. I flew over the whole of Long Island and then over the bright lights of New York City gazing down on my new home with pride. I kept flying, higher and higher, doing barrel rolls and loop-the-loops with laughter. It had been far too long since my wings had been able to stretch and serve me in this glorious manner. Other than making love with Eve, I’d never known a more intense feeling than flying high and free over the Earth.
Just as the sun began peering over the horizon my feet lit down on the sand outside my grand home. I sat there watching the night lose its eternal battle to day feeling reborn.
THE END OF CHAPTER SIX OF THE FIRST SIN BY LISA BETH DARLING COPYRIGHT 2017-ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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