Read Online Afterworld (The Orion Rezner Chronicles Book 1) by Michael James Ploof - Free Book Online
Authors: Michael James Ploof
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stuck his tongue out and bounded off to mingle with the pub patrons.
“I don’t know, Mushi, how good can she be—like you said—the way things go these days? We only graduated so early because the council is desperate for wizards. Same goes for the covens. She’s just as green as any of us.”
“We’ll see, Rez,” said Johnny, giving up.
We spent the rest of the evening with our fellow grads, sharing tales of our Rites of Passage. But we didn’t make a long night of it—we were expected to report to USCG at oh something hundred. I stumbled out of Fracco’s with Dude in tow.
…And had the presence of mind to let him drive us home.
Chapter 7
The Debriefing
I awoke at 6:00 a.m. to the sound of someone pounding on my door in time with the throbbing in my temples. After a lifetime, I stumbled from the couch and found the caller to be Father Killroy.
“You smell like the bottom of a vodka bottle, son.” He pushed past me and let himself in. I closed the door, and Old Ben walked through it.
“Drink does not drown care, but waters it, and makes it grow fast,” he said over his shoulder.
“Ugh, I know, Ben. I wasn’t drowning anything.”
Head down, I bumped into Father Killroy, who had stopped to regard me when I spoke to Franklin’s ghost.
“What did he say?” the father asked.
“Old Ben? You don’t believe in him, so who cares?” I stepped into the bathroom, took a few outdated aspirin, and swallowed them down.
“It doesn’t matter if I believe in him,” said Killroy. “You do.”
“He said I shouldn’t drink so much,” I yelled through toothpaste mouth. I didn’t have running water in my apartment, but I didn’t really care either—it’s easy enough to get through with a few gallons a day or so. All you really need is enough for George Carlin’s four key areas: armpits, ass, crotch, and teeth. I shamefully remember letting the water run the entire time I brushed, back before the Culling. That was how we all treated everything back then. We wasted as if all things were infinite.
“What about his quote, ‘Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy’? And there are others I cannot recall,” said Kilroy.
I rinsed and joined him in the kitchen, to grab an apple, before heading off to the bedroom. “That’s an old man Ben quote, I think.” I looked to Franklin. “He gave himself a little leeway there in his last decade. I think going to France really loosened him up.” Old Ben chuckled to himself as he looked up at the ceiling, clearly enjoying memories of his time abroad.
“What else did he say, or does he always just state the obvious,” asked Kilroy.
“Well, actually, he only speaks in his own quotes.”
The good Father looked at me incredulously.
I continued. “But his words still ring with truth in recognition. We all know what we must do, but it’s the doing it that seems to elude most of us—and all of us at times.” I went back out to the kitchen, big-ass hockey bag in tow.
The father was beaming.
“What?” I asked, grabbing two more apples.
“You sound like a preacher, son. You would give a good sermon.”
“Yeah, but I believe I should do the right thing because it’s the right thing to do. No disrespect Father, but I don’t need the threat of hellfire to do what is right.”
Father Killroy just sighed, and I followed him out the door. Out on the stoop I looked down to the street and froze. And then I chuckled. “You gotta be kidding me right now,” I said.
There, parked on the side of the street, waiting for us, was a black stretched limo. The driver opened the door for the father, and I could only shake my head.
“What?” Killroy asked. “It’s filled with baked goods from the church. We’re delivering all over town. C’mon.”
We made a half a dozen stops on the way to the briefing. Father Killroy offered me a warm apple pie and a spoon. My belly let me know just how good of an idea that was, and I thankfully
“I don’t know, Mushi, how good can she be—like you said—the way things go these days? We only graduated so early because the council is desperate for wizards. Same goes for the covens. She’s just as green as any of us.”
“We’ll see, Rez,” said Johnny, giving up.
We spent the rest of the evening with our fellow grads, sharing tales of our Rites of Passage. But we didn’t make a long night of it—we were expected to report to USCG at oh something hundred. I stumbled out of Fracco’s with Dude in tow.
…And had the presence of mind to let him drive us home.
Chapter 7
The Debriefing
I awoke at 6:00 a.m. to the sound of someone pounding on my door in time with the throbbing in my temples. After a lifetime, I stumbled from the couch and found the caller to be Father Killroy.
“You smell like the bottom of a vodka bottle, son.” He pushed past me and let himself in. I closed the door, and Old Ben walked through it.
“Drink does not drown care, but waters it, and makes it grow fast,” he said over his shoulder.
“Ugh, I know, Ben. I wasn’t drowning anything.”
Head down, I bumped into Father Killroy, who had stopped to regard me when I spoke to Franklin’s ghost.
“What did he say?” the father asked.
“Old Ben? You don’t believe in him, so who cares?” I stepped into the bathroom, took a few outdated aspirin, and swallowed them down.
“It doesn’t matter if I believe in him,” said Killroy. “You do.”
“He said I shouldn’t drink so much,” I yelled through toothpaste mouth. I didn’t have running water in my apartment, but I didn’t really care either—it’s easy enough to get through with a few gallons a day or so. All you really need is enough for George Carlin’s four key areas: armpits, ass, crotch, and teeth. I shamefully remember letting the water run the entire time I brushed, back before the Culling. That was how we all treated everything back then. We wasted as if all things were infinite.
“What about his quote, ‘Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy’? And there are others I cannot recall,” said Kilroy.
I rinsed and joined him in the kitchen, to grab an apple, before heading off to the bedroom. “That’s an old man Ben quote, I think.” I looked to Franklin. “He gave himself a little leeway there in his last decade. I think going to France really loosened him up.” Old Ben chuckled to himself as he looked up at the ceiling, clearly enjoying memories of his time abroad.
“What else did he say, or does he always just state the obvious,” asked Kilroy.
“Well, actually, he only speaks in his own quotes.”
The good Father looked at me incredulously.
I continued. “But his words still ring with truth in recognition. We all know what we must do, but it’s the doing it that seems to elude most of us—and all of us at times.” I went back out to the kitchen, big-ass hockey bag in tow.
The father was beaming.
“What?” I asked, grabbing two more apples.
“You sound like a preacher, son. You would give a good sermon.”
“Yeah, but I believe I should do the right thing because it’s the right thing to do. No disrespect Father, but I don’t need the threat of hellfire to do what is right.”
Father Killroy just sighed, and I followed him out the door. Out on the stoop I looked down to the street and froze. And then I chuckled. “You gotta be kidding me right now,” I said.
There, parked on the side of the street, waiting for us, was a black stretched limo. The driver opened the door for the father, and I could only shake my head.
“What?” Killroy asked. “It’s filled with baked goods from the church. We’re delivering all over town. C’mon.”
We made a half a dozen stops on the way to the briefing. Father Killroy offered me a warm apple pie and a spoon. My belly let me know just how good of an idea that was, and I thankfully
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