Chapter 29
There had to be some trick to this, Isaac thought. The number of paces he had taken so far through the candle smoke had greatly exceeded the physical space of Anne’s modest bungalow. Surely, he should have bumped up against a wall by now, yet his hand continued to grope forward and catch nothing. This really was some Narnia-level shit.
Nevertheless, Isaac continued step after step until he finally saw a red smudge in the distance. The candle’s flame! Finally! Now, with a marker to orient himself toward, his feet quickened.
Left foot, right foot.
Right foot, left foot.
Left foot, right foot.
The red smudge grew larger and larger, brighter and brighter, eventually turning from red to orange to white, all while the scent of waffles and whipped butter became stronger and stronger. As Isaac approached the light at the end of the tunnel, even the color of the smoke around him transitioned, morphing from the dark clouds that dredged up Seth’s forgotten memories of burning oil wells in the Iraqi desert to the airy, white puffs of fluff that constituted cumulus clouds.
Suddenly, with a great burst of sunlight, the cover of smoke broke to reveal an unblemished sky colored the most brilliant shade of blue. Isaac had to avert his eyes until they adjusted to the brightness. Then, while looking down, he discovered, with great shock, that he was indeed walking on a plush carpet of cumulus clouds.
Isaac wheeled around to retreat to Anne’s office, but there was nothing there but perfect, unbroken planes of blue and white extending to the horizon. No door. No smoke. Nothing. Just clouds and sky. It was unreal. The clouds were uniform, a repeating pattern of impeccable design, where every curve bore the platonic shape of a voluptuous DD breast. There was one exception to this marvelous monotony, however. In the distance, a pair of enormous gates towered over the landscape. They cast no shadow.
Isaac groaned. He knew it. He was in the afterlife. Anne had finally done it. She killed Isaac to cover her tracks. Now, no one would ever know she stole Zee’s magical cat. Isaac guessed the coroner would attribute his death to smoke inhalation. No foul play. How had he been so stupid? He saw Anne murder Zee the same way, and what did he do? He walked right into Anne’s trap. If he weren’t already dead, he’d kill himself from embarrassment.
Despite his fears, the gates beckoned to Isaac from across the clouds, and he couldn’t ignore their call. Nervous, he crept a foot forward, testing the clouds’ stability to ensure he wouldn’t fall through them, but he found his footing firm yet with a pleasant rebound, like walking in a brand new pair of New Balance. The clouds were so comfortable and springy that they compelled Isaac, against his melancholy mood, to skip his way over to the gates. He did so. And with the wind in his hair and a bounce to his step, he was feeling better already.
A guard stood outside the gates to greet Isaac. Dressed in all black, the man looked like a club bouncer and was sized proportionally to the gargantuan gates he protected. There was a transparent receiver in his ear, and his hand held a clipboard.
Isaac approached him.
“Name?” the man demanded in a gruff, no-nonsense voice.
“Isaac Abrahamson,” he responded, a slight quiver catching in his throat. Unfortunately, Isaac couldn’t get a read on the bouncer, whose eyes were hidden by wraparound black shades. Isaac wished for a pair himself to act as a shield against the dazzling sun. What Isaac could see through the glare, however, was the bouncer’s nametag. It read: “Peter.”
“Sorry, but you’re not on the list,” Peter informed Isaac.
“Uh, can you check again? I’m expected,” Isaac explained. Now that he was closer to the gates, he didn’t think they were made of pearl. Instead, they looked like chrome. A driving musical beat sounded from beyond them. “The party I’m supposed to meet is already inside. Her name is Zee Shirley. She’s a screenwriter.”
“You’re not on the list,” Peter said bluntly.
“Her cat sent me,” Isaac informed him. “Captain Flapjacks. Are you familiar?”
“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step aside. We don’t allow your kind here.”
“Gays?”
“No.”
“Slytherins?”
“No, war criminals. We don’t allow war criminals beyond the gate. And we especially don’t accept war criminals who are tools for the government.”
“War criminals?”
“Step aside, sir.”
“Please? I have nowhere to go.”
“Step aside, sir,” Peter instructed Isaac again as a gaggle of women with more curves than the surrounding bubble-shaped clouds appeared out of thin air and lined up behind Isaac. Dressed for a night on the town, Isaac wondered how their stiletto heels didn’t pop the clouds they stood upon to send them all plummeting. But nobody seemed worried, least of all Peter. The girls chattered amongst themselves while he checked his list and waved them through the gates without hassle.
“Right this way, ladies. Welcome, welcome. Enjoy your stay,” Peter said kindly but dropped the charm as soon as the women were out of earshot, and he had to consider Isaac again. “Says here that you massacred an Afghani spice market during your time on Earth.”
“There’s been a mistake!” Isaac cried. “A classic screwball mix-up! You see, I’m not a war criminal.”
“I’ll tell you what. Some of those people you killed are behind those gates right now. You want me to go get the Tali Llama and ask him if I made a mistake?”
“You don’t get it. Please! I didn’t kill him. That was Seth, my alternate personality!”
Peter snorted. “If it makes you feel any better, son, Seth ain’t on the list either.”
“Hmm. Does it say anywhere in there if I killed recently? A little girl maybe?”
“Nope,” said Peter after glancing back to the clipboard. “You’re good on that one.”
“Good, good,” Isaac paused, “Well, what does it take to get in here?”
“Thugs get in free, and you gotta be a G,” Peter replied as if it was obvious.
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“What? What is this place?” Isaac eyed the gates suspiciously.
“Thugz Mansion.”
“Thugz Mansion?”
“You’re at Thugz Mansion. Goddamn, boy. Do you want me to spell it out for you? There’s a ‘z’ in there.”
“So this isn’t heaven?”
“Boy, did I say it was heaven?”
“Is it hell?”
“Man, step off already. For the last time, please leave the premises and take your business elsewhere. Shoo, Goddamnit!”
“But is everyone behind those gates dead? Am I dead?”
Peter pressed a finger to the receiver in his ear and began to mumble into it. The snippets of conversation Isaac could overhear were an unflattering physical description of himself and a request to bring out the dogs, which turned out to be a single dog with three heads. “Easy, Cerberus! Not yet.” Peter held the mythical beast on a leash, but even for the mammoth-sized man, keeping the dog under control was a struggle. Isaac could smell the breath of all three heads, and they all had the unmistakable stink of human flesh on them.
Isaac furrowed his brow while he fretted in the face of the snarling three-headed dog. He couldn’t come this far to get turned away now, not when he was so close to finding Zee. Then suddenly he remembered Anne’s parting gift to him before he walked into the candle smoke. The token! Somewhere along the journey to Thugz Mansion, it fell inside Isaac’s shirt.
“Yes!” Isaac bellowed after retrieving it, delighted to discover that Anne had furnished him with just what he needed: a laminated backstage pass for Thugz Mansion. The letters “VIP” were emblazoned along with the words “Anne Jacobson’s Guest of Honor.” More importantly, it also read “1 Day Pass ONLY,” meaning that Isaac must not be dead! He was due back on Earth in 24 hours.
“Here,” Isaac said, passing the badge to Peter for examination.
Eyes wide with surprise, Peter inspected the badge and acknowledged Isaac’s worthiness with a grunt, alleviating Isaac’s concerns and those of Cerberus, who calmed down. One of the three heads even tried to kiss Isaac.
“Welcome, sir. Enjoy your stay,” Peter said, stepping aside and opening the enormous chrome gates wide for Isaac. Then, at Isaac’s back, Peter shot his sot, yelling, “Next time you see Anne, tell her Lil’ Petey says, ‘What’s up?’” But Isaac didn’t turn around.
“¡Dios Mio!” Isaac exclaimed in astonishment once he made it inside the gates. He wished he were dead so he could live here forever, marveling at Thugz Mansion, which was chromed-out and stood high up on a hill of clouds. The sight of it was dizzying. The mansion was huge with wings on wings on wings. They spiraled out from the building’s center, which was a near replica of the house Tony Montana owned in Scarface, with the only difference being that this one was even more awesomely ostentatious. Every window had a balcony, and every balcony a weed garden. The roof was the color of U.S. currency.
No wonder Mr. Lennox and his lizard friends couldn’t find Zee, Isaac thought. They could have literally moved heaven and earth, and they still would have come up empty-handed. He made a mental note to never challenge Anne to a game of hide and seek.
Isaac smiled. The atmosphere outside the mansion was that of a midsummer day’s block party. Throngs of people wandered around, enjoying themselves. Some chose to chill by the palatial pool or gather around a gigantic grill that bowed under the weight of the wings and ribs heaped high atop its racks. Those who didn’t engage in those activities played lawn games, chatted, or danced to the music Isaac had heard from the other side of the gates. Good vibes only.
Isaac couldn’t imagine a more perfect place. After giving mental thanks to Anne for allowing him to experience this paradise, he moved through the grounds and up toward the mansion. On the way, he watched a drag race between two tricked-out neon cars recognizable from 2 Fast 2 Furious.
The party continued inside Thugz Mansion but at a more raucous pitch. Isaac stood in the grand lobby, decorated red to keep everything faithful to the original Scarface production design. Service staff moved throughout the room, handing out complimentary pre-rolls and glasses of Alize and lean. The lean was complete with a garnish of your choice of Jolly Rancher flavor. Isaac picked grape, figuring he couldn’t go wrong with a classic. And he was right. It was delicious, tasting so good when it hit his lips. There were even dudes in here slinging salami, not in the Urban Dictionary sense, but actual Italian meats. Everything at Thugz Mansion was provided for, and no one would go hungry.
Isaac had no idea how he would find Zee amongst the crowds (where was tour guide Dan when you needed him?), so he started asking around, but none of the partygoers knew who she was, or they simply didn’t care, too delirious with all the fun they were having. So instead of leading him in the right direction, they invited Isaac to dance, play a hand of booray, or sit for a round of Mario Kart. But Isaac politely declined every offer, opting to roam around instead. He was a man on a mission.
Continuing his search, Isaac poked his head into various rooms and discovered delights of every kind. There was a pool hall, a strip club, a library filled with books with gold-gilded pages, and one room was just a giant ball pit. Behind one door was a crowded theater where some lady named Billie Holiday was performing. Then, Isaac’s nose led him to an in-house Roscoe’s chicken and waffle house, which he had smelled all the way from Anne’s office. His mouth watered. After polishing off an Obama special (three fried chicken wings and a waffle), Isaac resumed his hunt for Zee.
Peter was right. To get into Thugz Mansion, you had to be a G. Isaac crossed paths with people of all creeds and colors, but everyone had that common denominator. Isaac had never felt so out of place. Despite that, he was welcomed warmly, whether drinking peppermint schnapps with Jackie Wilson and Sam Cooke, knocking back beers with Anthony Bourdain and Janis Joplin, or sharing a spliff with Nipsey Hussle and the world-renowned bad bitch known as Barbra Bush. But even when Isaac started to see double, he still couldn’t spot Zee to save his life.
A sneaking suspicion told Isaac he’d have better luck looking for Zee wherever the most exclusive portion of the mansion was, so he returned to the grand lobby and went up the left side of the twin staircase. Then, Isaac checked inside the room at the top of the stairs, the one Tony Montana used as his office in the movie, but didn’t see any sign of Zee.
What he did discover was that this replica of the Scarface mansion must have been made in the image of the movie’s third act because there was a massive mountain of cocaine on the desk. It appeared self-replenishing as none of the guests could make a dent in it, whether they had one line or three. When one of them lifted their face from the pile of coke, Isaac recognized him.
“Roomie!” Isaac cried to Mark, who resembled a powdered doughnut more than a man. “Looking good!” But Mark didn’t respond. “Hey, buddy, have you seen Zee?”
Delirious, Mark turned to Isaac but couldn’t see him. His eyes were spinning.
“She’s supposed to be here somewhere.”
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Mark responded.
Isaac shook his roomie to wake him up. “Mark? Listen to me. Focus!”
“AHAKRBSLNFBRBEBABSBRKSK!!!!”
“Do you know where Zee is?”
“Isaac! I have a secret to tell you.” He grabbed Isaac by the shoulders, now whispering at a volume reserved for screaming. “This is big! Imagine a sloppy Joe sandwich, but it’s made out of Slim Jims. You’d call it a slimmy Jimmy! It’ll make a billion dollars.”
Isaac had to let Mark go. Mark was flying high, and there was no telling when he’d come down. Sneakily, Isaac moved from one powder room to another, this one the en suite to the mansion’s master bedroom.
“Zee!” Isaac cried out to the woman bathing in the giant, circular hot tub at the center of the room. He knew it was her. Aside from being a copycat Margot Robbie, there was no mistaking Zee’s cascading blonde hair, her button nose, or her dead eyes that searched Isaac for some sort of explanation as to who the fuck he could be. Isaac couldn’t help but stare back, focusing on Zee’s magical clavicles that were exposed just beyond the reach of the bubbles that filled the bath. He didn’t see any evidence of her wearing a bathing suit.
“Um, hello?” Zee said, already exasperated by Isaac.
“I never thought I’d find you!” Isaac declared breathlessly, “You’re the girl of my dreams!”
That brought a smile to Zee’s face. “Of course I am.”
“Blub, blub, blub,” said a man with a mouthful of water. He breached the bubbly water between Zee’s legs, his back to Isaac. “Why’d you tap me? Were you done?” the man asked Zee.
“Yes, baby,” Zee said sweetly. “We have company.”
The man turned around and draped one arm around her and his other over the side of the tub like he owned the place, which he did. Isaac recognized him from Anne’s Wall of Fame and countless LA murals.
“Holy fuck!” Isaac cried, “It’s Tupac!”