D02-Tricks on Thanksgiving

Archangel Michael waited patiently as he looked at those seated at the large round table that dominated the meeting space at the headquarters of the Devine Mission Corps. Everyone was in attendance except Gabriel. He was not concerned or upset, for he knew that the only thing that could cause Gabriel to be late would be gathering important last minute intelligence.

Of course, neither the table nor the room, not even its occupants existed in the physical world. They were all of the ethereal realm. Michael watched the members of the DMC chat amongst themselves as they waited.

The newest member, Hashkeh Naabah, the Navajo, was enjoying a funny story that Melanie, the Tech Wizard of the group, was telling. For once, Melanie was not wearing her customary K-Pop outfit but had donned more conservative attire, probably because of the subject of their impending meeting.

Hansen, the ex Seabee, brooded in his chair just waiting. He just sat there frowning and flexing biceps that were the size of most human’s thighs. As he clinched his fists, his forearms swelled, causing the tattoo of the Seabee on his left arm to dance about.

Gabriel finally arrived and quickly took his chair. “I have additional news,” he announced.

“I am sure that Michael has informed you all that E.V.I.L. Has been ramping up their activities as the American holiday of Thanksgiving approaches,” he continued. “I have just gained reliable information from several Messengers that something big is about to happen.”

“And you think that you know what and where?” Michael asked.

“My sources are pretty sure that it will be one of two targets. E.V.I.L. has increased their activity by a large margin in the areas of the football games and parades planned for that day. We expect to narrow down more precisely as the big day nears.”

“Let me get the scrawny necks of a few Agents of E.V.I.L. in my fists, and we’ll see how those plans go,” Hansen growled, rising from his chair.

“I will admit that I feel much the same,” Michael began. “However we serve Someone who prefers less violent means.”

“She never lets us have fun!” Hansen said as he resumed his seat.

“I will collate and graph the information that Gabriel has collected and provide updates as we get new details,” Melanie volunteered.

“Excellent plan,” Michael agreed. “Everyone continue to see what you can discover, feed it to Melanie and we will meet again tomorrow. There are just two days Earth time until Thanksgiving.”

*. *. *

The following day, the DMC was once again convened at their headquarters. Melanie stood at the front of the room which was dominated by a huge screen, on which a map of the United States was displayed. A number of yellow circles appeared on the map but three were much larger than the others.

With a long pointer, Melanie indicated a large circle in the area of Detroit, and said, “I have plotted all of the recent sightings of the Agents of E.V.I.L. on this map. There are NFL football games scheduled for Detroit and Dallas and the annual parade in New York.”

Everyone nodded their heads in understanding.

“I have ruled out Detroit, but the data still cannot make a determination between the other two,” she concluded.

“We will have to split into two groups,” Michael said. “Melanie, Hansen and Hashkeh Naabah, you will focus on the Dallas football game area. Gabriel and I will cover the parade in New York.”

The three directed to Dallas winked out to pursue their assignment.

Gabriel turned to Michael and said, “So you think the parade is the most likely?”

“Yes. We need to be careful on this one. E.V.I.L. Has been learning new tricks.”

With that comment, the two archangels disappeared to take up their positions.

*. *. *

When they arrived in Dallas, the three members of the DMC spread out to cover separate areas of the football stadium. Hansen monitored the field, the seats and the boxes overlooking the field. Hashkeh Naabah went out to keep an eye on the parking and tailgating areas. Melanie wanted to inspect the inner areas and basements of the stadium.

Meanwhile, in New York, Michael was surveilling the staging area used by the various floats and marching groups, while Gabriel made a tour of the parade route.

During the day before Thanksgiving, activity by both the ethereal Agents of E.V.I.L. and their minions, the invisible Infidels increased. Their presence caused agitation amongst the humans preparing for the big events in both cities, but neither location seemed to be getting more attention than the other from E.V.I.L.

As morning dawned on Thanksgiving day things began to change. Melanie was moving silently through the lower reaches of the stadium. She had noticed that the Infidels had left the area and was beginning to wonder what it meant.

She had just made up her mind to report the unusual lack of activity when she noticed an Agent of E.V.I.L. accompanied by four Infidels sneaking through the hallway ahead. Melanie decided that she would find out what they were up to before making her report. She followed, keeping out of sight, as the group entered a doorway at the end of the hallway.

When she got to the door, she peered into the dark room. She could see no movement, but the door across the seemingly empty space was ajar and swaying like it has just been passed. Melanie slipped inside and headed for the other door.

As she moved forward she felt more and more unsure of herself. What if she was wrong. Her legs became leaden and she found it harder to continue. She began to question why she would want to continue. As she stumbled and fell to her knees, her befuddled mind tried to grasp at something. Something important. She just could not quite remember what it was. It was on the edge of her thoughts but would not come into focus.

She just wanted to lie down and take a nap. She was so tired. As her eyes closed, she thought of Hansen. The Seabee would not be happy that she was going to sleep on the job.

Suddenly, the room was filled with Devine light. Hansen glowed brightly as he appeared near Melanie. The light dispelled the darkness but not all the shadows. Numerous Agents of E.V.I.L. and shadowy Infidels were swarming all over Melanie as she lay curled on the hard concrete floor.

“I’m here girl!” Hansen yelled as he waded into the dark squirming mass. His arms worked like pistons. Infidels and Agents flew in all directions.

Hashkeh Naabah appeared a moment later. Unlike Hansen, he was fully armored in the remnant of an archangel. Drawing his sword, he held it high as it flamed to life. E.V.I.L. fled the brilliant light and were gone in moments, except for one unfortunate Agent still firmly held by the grasp of Hansen’s right hand around its neck.

Bending to Melanie, who was beginning to sit up groggily on the floor, Hashkeh Naabah helped her to her feet. She seemed not to be harmed by her experience.

Meanwhile, the agitated Agent flailed in Hansen’s steel grip and wailed in a squeaky, airy falsetto, “Get your vile paws off me!”

“That’s rich!” Hansen said with a laugh. “Sounds like the pot talking to the kettle!”

The creature did not seem to know what to make of Hansen’s comment. It continued its tirade with, “Let me go, you oaf! I must be gone!”

“What’s the hurry, my friend?” Hansen asked. “We’re just having a nice chat.”

“My Master wants me elsewhere. I must go or the punishment will be horrible.”

“I don’t understand,” Hashkeh Naabah said. “They said that this is where you were supposed to be.”

“No! No! No!” the writhing form wailed. “The parade! We have to go to the parade!”

Hashkeh Naabah and Hansen shared a look. Was the Agent telling the truth? Not likely, but the dark energy that had swirled about the stadium did seem greatly deplenished. Melanie stepped up to the Agent, still firmly in Hansen’s grip and slapped him hard across his cheek.

“That’s for touching me!” she said. “Hansen, let the creature go back to its kind.”

She gave Hansen a look and he complied. The dark figure of the Agent vanished in an instant. They tracked his flight and he did go in a northeastern direction.

“I think that he did not mean to let that slip,” she told the others. “We have to tell Michael.”

*. *. *

The three archangels winked into existence above the gathering floats and marchers of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, near where Michael oversaw the preparations. They explained what had happened and he agreed with their assessment.

The group floated invisibly looking for evidence of E.V.I.L. working to cause trouble. So far the only difficulty that the festivities faced was the wet and sometimes icy patches on the pavement resulting from the rain during the night and the frigid temperatures.

To be sure, there were the inevitable small groups of Infidels working their mischief in the crowds, but no concerted effort could be seen. Michael directed everyone to split up and to monitor the entire route.

When the time came, the parade began with it’s typical fanfare without a hitch.

It was at Columbus Circle, where Central Park West turns to Central Park South that E.V.I.L. made their first attempt at disruption. As the float representing Rao’s Homemade Pasta, with its giant dragon on the front breathing fire at a brave knight was making the turn, the front did not seem to be tracking along the curve of the road as it should have. The float appeared to slide toward the cheering crowd, which did not notice at first. The parade crew had apparently missed a patch of ice in their morning inspection. No one except Gabriel could see the invisible Agents of E.V.I.L. assisting the float off course.

Gabriel descended instantly to a location under the float. As he drew forth his flaming sword, the heat melted the ice immediately and the float gained traction, correcting its course, and the Agents abandoned their efforts. The crowd thought nothing of the flash of light from under the float, assuming that it was all part of the show. Only a few revelers had time to register that the float had veered too far in their direction before righting its course.

E.V.I.L. caused several more sporadic small disturbances among the packed crowd, but nothing more significant until the giant Snoopy balloon was making its way through Herald Square in front of the television cameras at 34th Street. It started almost unnoticed as most of E.V.I.L.’s tricks do.

One, then two, then more of the handlers holding onto the guiding ropes controlling the balloon started to slip, some even falling down. As their feet fought for stability, some of the handlers unconsciously released their grip on the ropes and waved their arms trying to regain their footing.

When too many hands were off the ropes on the left side, the balloon tilted and the increased strain on the rest of the handlers began to be more than those remaining could manage.

One young lady must have gotten her arm tangled in the rope that she was holding. As her side of the balloon rose up, she left the ground and she dangled two feet above the pavement. Someone in the crowd ran over and jumped up, wrapping his arms around the girl’s legs, trying to pull her back down.

A little girl in the crowd tugged her mother’s hand and cried, “Look Mommy! They’re going to let Snoopy fly!”

Hashkeh Naabah was not about to let that happen. He pressed himself invisibly to the top of the balloon and held it from rising for just long enough for the handlers to regroup. As they regained their ropes, the balloon was brought under control again.

While this excitement was taking place, Michael was watching the final groups departing the staging area and noticed that the Santa sleigh did not yet have a rider. Descending, he found the fully costumed Santa snoring loudly under the sleigh, obviously in a drunken stupor. With only moments before the float was due to join the end of the parade, Michael decided to replace the Santa.

As he quickly stripped the costume from the unconscious man, Hansen appeared beside him to help. That was fortunate, as the costume was a better fit for the bulky Seabee than for Michael’s lanky frame. As Hansen scrambled into the sleigh, Michael secreted the drunken former Santa under a blanket in the bottom of the float.

No one noticed the switch, although several announcers did make a comment about the booming Ho Ho Ho of this years’ Saint Nick.

*****

Author’s Note: I could not resist the opportunity to add to the miracles at 34th Street, even though it would have been fun to help the game winning pass into the hands of a Dallas receiver!