Bael loved big opulent churches. It tickled him pink to see so much blood sweat and tears wasted on a deity that wanted nothing to do with such excess. It was like naming a jail after Claudette Colvin.

The building was supposed to show their dedication. But a house was only as important as the people in it. He patted Ryan on the shoulder. “This must feel like enemy territory for you.”

“Don’t rub it in.” The atheist looked up at the old weathered structure. “I honestly don’t see how anyone could believe in all of this. I think they’re just pretending.”

“Belief is a bit like Mount Fuji.” Bael watched the people coming and going. He was trying to get a feel for the place. “It’s so prevalent in Japanese art that if someone doesn’t include it in their painting of Tokyo, then it is either a deliberate statement, or they were standing on it.”

“You’re saying I deliberately don’t believe in God? Like it’s a choice?”

“Or you’re so close you’re standing on him.” Bael gestured towards the door. “After you.”

The body language of the people in the church was mostly negative. It was all rounded shoulders and frowns. They seemed like unhappy people going through the motions. The thick dust coating everything confirmed his theory. Nobody here really cared. Service had concluded and now it was time for business to begin.

A woman in a pants suit holding a clipboard approached them. “Hi! I’m Misti.” She looked back and forth at the two men. “You were from the school?”

Ryan cleared his throat. “Yes. I’m Ryan and this is Bill. We had hoped to talk with Bishop Alfonso.”

She shook her head and tutted. “I’m so sorry but he is resting right now. The Bishop gets tired easily these days. Perhaps if you gentlemen were to join us for regular service he might be more interested in meeting with you.”

Misti was the Bishop’s gatekeeper. Her role in the organization was to prevent people from wasting his time and squeeze whatever she could from those who were granted an audience. She would soften them up, earn concessions, and set the tone.

“I’ve never been a big fan of flashy ceremonies. I like to keep things simple and private.” Bael replied, disrupting what was no doubt a polished and practiced routine.

The woman flinched. This was not how things were supposed to go. “Well… you can’t see him right now.”

“That’s fine. We will wait. But we will see him today.” Bael didn’t raise his voice or loom over her. In fact he was very much making a point of not doing so, and it showed. “Where would you like us to wait?”

Misti pointed to an exit on the far side of the room. “The garden is that way.”

“Thank you.” Bael said as he gestured for Ryan to follow him outside. He went over to Murphy and grabbed his bag. Inside was a thermos of tea, a few dozen peanut butter cookies, and a book of poetry.

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“You were expecting to wait?” Ryan asked.

“Of course.” Bael said as he opened the Tupperware full of freshly baked cookies and held it out to Ryan. “Weren’t you?”

***

“My wife would love this place.” Bael said as he looked out over the neat flower beds from his seat on the bench. The sun was shining and the bees were buzzing. He sipped his chamomile tea and took a moment to enjoy the calm before the approaching storm. It would be a fist fight trying to get any money out of these people. He could already tell. “Ryan, are you married?”

“Me? No way.” Ryan shook his head. “I like my free time.”

Bael got the feeling that wasn’t the only thing holding the young man back. He was a bit awkward around women and tended to clam up when they spoke. No wonder Ms. Kitch had picked him. She liked having people around her she could bully and control. “Don’t worry. A good woman will find you one day.”

Ryan digested the meaning behind the words. “You really see through people, don’t you?”

“I can’t help it. It’s how I was made. That’s how I know you dislike your father and he probably wasn’t around much.” Bael took another sip of his tea. He was toying with Ryan to see what buttons he could push. All this work with the school was bringing out his inner demon.

“I don’t hate my dad...”

“You just don’t like being around him.” Bael finished the sentence. “It’s alright. I have my own issues with my parents too.”

Technically he only had one parent since Lucy made all the original demons herself. Did that make her a single parent? It couldn’t have been easy, raising that many hellspawn. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been so hard on her. Now that Bael was a parent he was realizing it wasn’t nearly as easy as it looked.

Ryan didn't seem to be enjoying the wait. He was wringing his hands and glancing around every few minutes. Evidently he was nervous about the future of the school. “Do you think they will help?”

“I have no idea. Maybe they will, maybe they won’t. But that’s not the point.” Bael pulled out his book of poetry. It was a perfect day to read a little Edna while he waited.

“Well, then what’s the point?” Ryan asked, interrupting Bael’s reading.

“The point is that we showed up and we asked. We need to follow the steps of the process or we won’t get what we want.” Bael was distracted from his lecture by a butterfly. It fluttered over to the zinnias in search of nectar.

Ryan didn't ask any more questions so Bael sat in silence and watched the insect go about its business. The purple flowers seemed to be its favorite. Bael liked butterflies and had several books on them. Though he couldn't remember the last time he saw one in person.

The monarchs with their orange and gold would soon begin their migration south for the winter. The route they flew had been set thousands of years before they were born and would be followed by their descendants.

Sometimes their path turned to go around a mountain that no longer existed. It seemed strange to think of mountains as temporary. But time, wind, and rain could erode the mightiest of them. Long after the mountain was gone the butterflies still avoided it.

Bael thought of Lucifer, or Lucy as she preferred to be called these days. Was he doing the same thing as those butterflies? Was he holding onto resentment and anger towards her long after the time to forgive had passed? Demons were not known for their forgiveness. Perhaps they were incapable of letting go.

But wouldn’t things be better if they could? What was the point of holding onto hatred and resentment for all eternity? Why couldn’t he let it go?

Once upon a time his resentment might have served a purpose. Hate and spite had kept him going when he was just a nameless demon fighting to rise in hell’s ranks. But he didn’t need it anymore. He was done being angry about things that happened so long ago that they might as well be myths. He didn’t have to walk around the mountain anymore. Time had reduced it to nothing.

As Bael sat there reflecting in the garden he felt for a brief moment as if something was acknowledging him. Some unknown force had recognized his presence, nodded, then continued walking. He watched the butterfly depart.

Misti stood in the doorway, waving to get their attention. Bael stood up and gestured to Ryan. “I guess it’s time to meet the boss.”