My shadow is the only one that walks besides me

My shadow heart’s the only thing that’s beating

– “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” Green Day

“You see sir, there’s something transpiring with the House of the One God. Baba Yaga would not just simply lose on purpose! I need additional resources to conduct a proper investigation,” stated Brother Roger.

The desperation in his eyes grew as he tried to make The Deacon understand his suspicions. “We need to act now, she IS up to no good, and I can feel it.”

“Listen, Brother Roger,” the Deacon said in a calm voice, “I understand and even feel your suffering. I know you were defeated by her in a mage duel, but I think it’s time to let that go and move on,” said the bean-headed older man sitting behind the desk.

His misshaped eyes stared kindly at his best friend of many years.

“This hunt of yours has turned into an obsession. It would appear to some that this is turning into a vendetta. I know she is a vile woman, but if you are simply spreading slander it will bring you nothing but ruin and despair. Remember Proverbs 10:18, He who conceals hatred has lying lips, and whoever slander is a fool.”

Brother Roger stood back. Maybe his guild leader, his best friend, was right? Brother Roger felt shook the cobwebs from his head and cleared his throat.

“My gut is telling me she and her guild are up to something, and that something is pure evil. I feel it in my very core. I just can’t prove anything yet,” Brother Roger said before turning and walking out.

The Deacon sighed; he wanted to run after Roger. He knew this was something he would have to work out his battle loss himself. Sooner or later he would have to realize you can’t win every battle and would have to accept defeat.

Brother Roger quickly walked past his fellow guild members and friends. Some of them tried to wave hi, but he ignored them. He made his way out of the Church of the Holy Faith Walkers and on to Church Row. Seven city blocks in Astral Fight Club Chicago were sectioned off to accommodate all religions and faiths.

While only three of the seven blocks were currently occupied pagan faiths sat side-by-side with monotheistic faiths there was little animosity between the various temples. There were two main rules of the seven block religious section: 1 – Keep thy religion to thyself (except in guild house, Soapbox Fountain and/or respected temple) 2 – No unwanted religious proliferation. This prevented door-to-door religious zealots confined to their respected locations.

Brother Roger made his way down the street to Soapbox Fountain in the center of Church Row. That was the only where people of various faiths could debate dogmas in public. It was also known for having some of the best coffee in the astral plane of Chicago, too. Brother Roger made a mental note to mockingbird that it was unusually barren today.

Usually, by this time, the Head Prostitute from the Temple of Venus and the Black Pope from the Church of Satan would be verbally assaulting each other. Their last debate concerned the meaning of love and its religious implications. When those two groups typically debated each other, it would draw large crowds.

Currently, the only people around, other than Roger and his battle avatar, was the lone coffee bartender and a tree. The tree, a battle avatar, was in the process of purchasing twenty plus coffees. It was obvious it was sent out on a coffee run because of the 20 cups it was carrying.

“Please don’t make me the delivery bird,” commented the mockingbird.

The tree, which was a small sized weeping willow, had no problem holding the many cups in its whip-like limbs. The dexterous limbs made it obvious to both mockingbird and Brother Roger why the tree was selected for the coffee run. The tree opened up its wide mouth and fished around inside with a limb. Then pulled out some currency and paid the coffee man. The man thanked the battle avatar and scuttled off to some unknown location.

“Greetings and well meet,” said the older male with a dark complexion and old world Spanish (or it could have been Moroccan) accent.

His short black curly hair did little to cover his big nose. He wore light brown linen robes and could have easily passed for a hippy that attended Woodstock. Brother Roger and mockingbird only see this guy work once or twice before. He was pleasant enough, though he never asked this guy his name. Roger adjusted his tie before speaking.

“Kinda slow today, doncha think?” asked Brother Roger.

He looked at the coffee man’s name tag, it read Jesus. He wasn’t sure if it was Spanish or if he was mocking the Son of God. He looked at mockingbird, and because his battle avatar was currently reading his thoughts, they both agreed it was more than likely Spanish.

“I’ve seen busier days,” said Jesus, picking up a cappuccino cup and cleaning it.

“So what can I get for you today, my troubled looking friend?”

“Is it that obvious?” Brother Roger asked.

Normally, he was good at maintaining a poker face while out it public but his conservation with the Deacon had troubled him more than normal. The Deacon had always supported him, but this time he felt alone and on his own. He left like he was cast out to sea.

“Well, those worry lines on your forehead (pointing to his narrowed brow) suggest something is bothering you,” Jesus said calmly.

Brother Roger sat down at the coffee bar and looked over the menu several times before trying to decide what to order. He settled on chi tea. A Buddhist martial artist named Sokhumi (or something like that) bought one for him once. He was hooked ever since.

Jesus made a fresh batch of chai tea for Brother Roger and even an extra cup for Mockingbird, free of charge for the bird. Roger paid for the tea and tossed a few coins in the tip jar. The coffee man picked his rag and began to dry off the cups again. Mockingbird began to drink the tea while Roger played with his cup. His long skinny fingers turned the cup around and around carefully.

“Nobody believes me,” Roger suddenly blurted out.

Jesus stopped drying his dishes and looked puzzled at Roger.

He saw the questioning look on Jesus’ face and continued, “You see every time I had a gut instinct about something or someone I was right. This time, no one believes me. I know I don’t have solid proof, but my faith and my instincts tell me something isn’t right.”

“Is The Deacon that guy with that bean-shaped head?” asked Jesus.

“Yeah, it happened when he was young. One day when his father was high on meth, put his head in a vice. He thought it was funny till he almost killed him. Anyway, his head and face were messed up ever since.”

“Can’t he fix that in the astral realm?”

“He said he doesn’t want to. He said his ordeal has only made him stronger. He wears it as a badge of honor and says that if his suffering can prevent at least one person from doing drugs or helps someone get off of drugs, he would do it again. I wish I could have his courage to face my problems like that in the real world and here too.”

“You know him in the earth-realm?”

“Yup,” Brother Roger said with a big grin on his face, “Ever since elementary school. Some kids were picking on him and I stood up for him. Of course, we were both beat up, but after that, we were friends ever since! I’ve known him for over 35 years.”

“After hearing that it looks like you just forgot that you had the courage to face your problems like your friend,” Jesus said and then smiled at him. Brother Roger returned the smile, he knows the coffee man was right. He had just forgotten his courage.

“Ok, a wise man (he said jokingly) how do you suggest I solve a problem when no one believes there is even a problem?”

Jesus paused for a moment, lost in thought. Brother Roger tapped his cup patiently waiting for an answer.

“Well, sounds like you got a mystery on your hands.” Jesus paused again; he placed his hand on his chin and looked up as if the ceiling had an answer.

A small hole opened up in the ceiling and small orange tabby cat with big eyes stuck its face out. The cat sighed and let out a soft meow.

“Good idea, Ceiling Cat!” Brother Roger and mockingbird stared at each other in bewilderment.

“Start at the beginning?” squawked mockingbird.

“When you are confronted with a puzzle, that you can’t solve, it’s important to begin where it all started,”

Both Brother Roger and mockingbird gave each other the “he’s right” look.

“First, like any investigation, you needed to start at the scene of the crime. From there you would gather all the facts. Next, put yourself in the mind of the criminal. To do that you need to ask the 5 W’s and H: who, what, why, when, where and how.”

Brother Roger was scribbling down notes, while mockingbird was mentally recording.

“This next part I really like. You gather all explanations together. Find the simplest explanation, and no matter how impossible it may seem, is usually the correct one.”

Brother Roger threw mockingbird a mental telepathic message that they would have to relive their fight with Baba Yaga. Both of them suspected that something was not right with that battle. It wasn’t the fact that they lost, they lost before to other people, but this was different. Brother Roger stood up and thanked Jesus and Ceiling Cat for their help. He started to leave, as his curiosity kicked in.

“Wait, are you a combatant?” asked Brother Roger.

“No, I am an unofficial observer. Since I was granted permission to watch and observe I have to perform various services for Astral Fight Club, like work at the coffee bar.” Jesus said.

He learned real close and motioned for Brother Roger to come closer and said, “I actually enjoy working at the coffee bar and helping others. Please don’t tell anyone or they might make me assign me more hours.” Jesus winked and smiled at Roger. Roger realized he was just kidding about the hours and would have guessed he would have been happy to put in many more hours if they let him.

“What about Ceiling Cat?” asked Roger.

“The upper management decided it wouldn’t be proper if I worked here and didn’t have a battle avatar. It didn’t matter to them if I competed or not. I guess it’s a tradition or something.”

Brother Roger smiled and waved goodbye to Jesus and Ceiling Cat. He missed not being able to bounce ideas around with another objective person. Normally, The Deacon was that person. He told mockingbird that he would have to remember the coffee guy’s name. This was just in case The Deacon still refused to listen to any more of his “silly” conspiracy theories.

Brother Roger and mockingbird teleported to the Central Bank of Chicago. There they would visit the scene of the crime.