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The Apocalyptic Matchmaker

By

Argo D.D.

"They're spraying us with flame! Two thousand feet. Engines are giving out. No chance to release bombs. Only one thing left . . . drop on them. We're diving on the first one. Now the engine's gone! Eight..."

Silence.

It was the best radio play I'd ever heard. I hit the radio to make sure that it didn't cut out again. The signal could easily be lost on these country roads, especially in my big cargo truck.

"This is Bayonne, New Jersey, calling Langham Field . . . Come in, please . . ."

I breathed a sigh of relief. The play was made to be like a real news report, so there would be purposeful periods of silence, like the broadcast cutting out, to enhance the effect that there was real peril. The downside, however, was that I didn't know when it was the show or if my radio really had lost its signal. I guess that just made it all the more intriguing.

It was October 30, 1938, a Sunday night.

As a truck driver then, I had to be on the road almost every day of the week. Though I had Sunday off, I usually spent it getting to where I had to be on Monday--like this night and heading to Scranton--so no Halloween. Normally, I didn't mind missing holidays, even Christmas. But Halloween was different; it was, after all, the night for tricksters like me. But this play made me think that I could at least get a taste of the season. No trick, just treat, which was better than none.

I looked at my watch: 8:36pm. I'd been listening for the past half hour. I thought it would be better than listening to Edgar Bergen make stupid jokes through his dummy named Charlie. After just the first five minutes, I was glad that I decided to take the long way to Scranton through Northern Jersey after all.

The mock reporter's voice came back crackling through the speakers.

"This is Langham Field . . . Go ahead . . ."

The play was on Mercury Theater and directed by Orson Welles. The story was a kind of modern rendition of War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells, which I remember pretending to read in high school. It started with a Martian spaceship landing in Miller's Grove, New Jersey. The locals tried to approach it and got fried by a heat ray. Then the army came in and they got fried. Then the Martians reinforced themselves with a hundred more spaceships that dropped these giant robot tripods all over New Jersey. With their heat rays, all they had to do was walk over our Earthly weapons.

"Eight army bombers in engagement with enemy tripod machines over Jersey flats. Engines incapacitated by heat ray. All crashed. Enemy now discharging heavy black smoke in direction of -"

Silence again.

The fur on my wrist stood straight. Though I knew it was a flaux broadcast, I managed to lose myself in it, because it was so real. The actual static and cutouts from my flimsy radio only heightened the illusion. I was glad to loose myself in it. This wouldn't be the best Halloween, but it wouldn't be the worst either. In fact, I was so lost in the show that I almost missed the headlights up ahead.

The lights filled my windshield and my heart almost jumped out of my chest.

The heat ray!

Thankfully, my senses returned to me in the split second that I had to realize that I actually was in trouble; it was another truck and it was coming straight at me.

These country roads were narrow and had little space to maneuver. I slammed on the break and swerved to the left. The weight of the load rocked the truck so hard that I nearly flew out of my seat. Thankfully, nearly two years on the road had made my paws swift and steady. As I turned, in little less than a second, I could see that the other truck was turning too. As it crossed with my headlights, I could see what was coming at me and it wasn't a truck but a big, bronze car. From my time on the road, I knew my cars or at least the ones built in the last five years: it was a Lincoln KB, one of biggest domestic automobiles in the country.

My truck jerked hard as it slid off the road and fell into a small drainage ditch. My head flung forward, but I was able to keep it from smacking against wheel. I gasped and let out all the air in my lungs. I settled and realized that my radio had gone into complete static. Looking up, I saw that the antenna was gone, probably snapped off by a tree branch. Then I heard a crash. I looked into my side mirror and saw the headlights of the Lincoln up against a tree on the other side of the road. I slammed my paw on the wheel and considered my options.

I rolled down the window and looked out at the Lincoln. Though its engine was well waged against the tree, I fingered that it wasn't fatal since there was movement coming from inside. I thought I should go out and see how they were, but I held back. Lincoln KBs were particularly designed for larger animals, like cattle or horses. The thought of little weasel me having to go up against a pissed off bull driver made me shudder. I'm smart enough to pick my fights.

I could just leave, I thought. But that idea was dashed as soon as I inspected the truck for damage. The tires were six inches in the mud and I wasn't going anywhere without some help. I looked back at the Lincoln, it looked like it was in pretty bad shape itself. Whoever was driving it, bull or whatever, would probably come over to introduce my lips to his fists. Then again, I thought, maybe I could say that I'm a government driver and attacking me would be an attack on a government agent, which would work if he didn't read the label on my truck. Besides, would it matter? No, the best thing was to apologize and promise him that my insurance would cover the damage. If I played my cards right, I could get out of here and stiff him later when I was at least a hundred miles away.

I nodded to myself. I'd start with that.

Suddenly, the door of the Lincoln opened and a huge dark shadow entered the street. My heart began to race and my fur stood up like spikes. I made sure that the door was locked, even though it seemed so ridiculous. The shadow was about half way across the street, and getting larger. In the back of my mind was that thought that no matter how nicely, calmly, or logically I spoke, it would all fall on deaf ears, because I was a weasel. Whether or not I fit the picture, people had stereotypes and the one of the dirty, conniving weasel was popular. The shadow was getting bigger in the side mirror until it completely engulfed it. The sound of the stranger's feet tapping against the muddy ground signaled to me what he was: a horse. I bit my lip and tried to stay calm, but when he made it to my window, I screamed.

The horse shouted back curses. I tried to speak up, but my throat was numb.

Then there was a light. A bright beam flashed over my eyes and I shut them. An aching pain shot through to the back of my sockets and my head was screaming as much as my mouth.

_ The heat ray!_

Suddenly, and abruptly, the horse's shouting stopped and he lowered his light. I rubbed my eyes as a waterfall of relief poured down on them and it was then that I realized that I recognized the dark stranger's voice. When I opened my eyes, I saw him hold his flashlight to his face and reveal a brown horse's snout with a streak of white going down the middle, long dark mane, and a signature white patch in the shape of a jagged diamond over his right eye.

"Norb?" the horse said. "Is that you?"

"D-Don Fergendy?" I stuttered, my throat still contracted.

There was no question, it was Don, my North Milford High classmate. I hadn't seen him in over two years. Less than a second after I unlocked the door did the giant stallion pull me up and press my skinny frame against his steel torso.

I huffed through his grip. "What are you doing here?" He looked at me funny.

"I live here."

Then it hit me. I was so lost in the radio play that I forgot I was close to my hometown--Milford, Pennsylvania--which I left to go my own way about halfway through junior year. When I got the chance, however, I'd take the opportunity to pass through Milford to make sure it was still there, because living on the road makes you think that your past life was just that, a past life. Coming through Milford kept the memories fresh, good and bad, mostly of pranks gone right or wrong (wrong enough to keep me from daring to stop). Still, I couldn't believe that I was so wrapped up in the show that I failed to see that I was crossing over the Delaware River into Pennsylvania, which meant that Milford was only a few miles up the road.

"What are you doing here?" Don's voice broke my chain of thought.

"Work," I said.

"Don," another familiar voice called over to us. "Who is it?"

Sure enough, when I turned back to the Lincoln, I saw a short, thin border collie leaning out the large window--he could just about stand in the car. The canine was Adrian Becker, always at Don's side. Don grabbed me by the shoulder and hulled me across the street to his car. Though they seemed happy to see me, there was something about their faces, a kind of contained horror written. Their dress was equally out of place: Don was wearing a black tuxedo with a puffy white brooch; Adrian was wearing a white shirt covered by a black vest.

Don's demeanor changed.

"What is it? How bad is it that way?" Don shouted as he grasped me shoulders.

I wrinkled my brow, but before I could ask what he was talking about, Adrian hushed us.

"Quiet!" the border collie scolded, "its back." He turned up the radio inside the Lincoln. Smoke and steam seeped into the compartments from the engine firmly pressed against the tree. Still, neither Adrian nor Don paid it much attention as they strained to hear the report through the radio's static. Someone was speaking in a calm, calculated manner as an operator. I recognized it immediately--it was the radio play.

"This is Newark, New Jersey. Warning! Poisonous black smoke pouring from the Jeresy marshes. Reaches South Street. Gas masks useless. Urge population to move into open spaces...automobiles use Routes 7, 23, 24...Avoid congested areas. Smoke now spreading over Raymond Boulevard..."

Silence.

I smiled. "Pretty good pro--"

"Shut up!" Adrian and Don snapped simultaneously. Another voice came over the radio.

"This is 8X3R...coming back at 2X2L."

I saw Adrian mouth the words "no".

"How's reception?" Another voice came on in response to the last. "How's reception? K, please. What's the matter? Where are you?"

Don's jaw dropped. The horse sprang up and dashed over to the engine of the Lincoln, hopelessly inspecting the damage. Even I could tell that his car wasn't going anywhere until they got a tow-truck.

As for me, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. All my instincts screamed against it, but Adrian and Don weren't in the loop about the nature of the program they were listening to--they believed it was really happening.

"Don," Adrian panted through the light smoked filling his snout, "come here." Don did, peering his large head inside. Another voice came in, this one sounding like a worried reporter trying to keep his composure.

"I'm speaking from the roof of the Broadcasting Building, New York City."

In the background, we could hear bells ringing, which the reporter explained were telling people to evacuate and which routes were best.

"Our army wiped out..." the mock reporter whimpered. "Artillery, air force, everything wiped out."

A choir entered the sound waves with a somber hymn, apparently "the cathedral" was holding a service. Then the reporter began to describe the five Martian tripod machines crossing the Hudson and land on Manhattan Island. The picture he painted was vivid. The machines standing as high as the skyscrapers, shooting their heat rays at the species running at their feet. The reporter reassured the audience that he intended to stay on as long as possible, even until the end.

"Now they're lifting their metal hands," the reporter went on whimpering. "This is the end now. Smoke comes out...black smoke, drifting over the city. People in the streets see it now. They're running towards the East River...thousands of them, dropping like flies. Now the smoke is spreading faster." His voice picked up speed. "It's reached Times Square. People are trying to run away, but it's no use. They're falling like flies. Now the smoke's crossing Sixth Avenue...Fifth Avenue...one hundred yards away...oh God! Its fifty feet--"

Silence.

Suddenly, there was a loud pop from the Lincoln's engine, causing all of us to jump. The radio went out. Fire shot from the hood. Don pulled off his jacket and slapped the flames. Even after the flames were extinguished, he went right on hitting it. The great strength of the horse was apparent as the car shook harder each time he struck it with his jacket. He was not stopping.

"Don!" Adrian cried as he got out of the car. "Don! Stop it!"

But he struck again and again until he wasn't only beating his own Lincoln, he was whipping it. Adrian approached the stallion with caution. Finally, Don threw down his scorched jacket and collapsed to his knees, sobbing violently. Adrian knelt down beside him, wrapped his arms around Don's neck, and rested his head on Don's snout. As Don's large tears fell onto Adrian's glasses, he removed them.

"They're dead!" Don cried as he wrapped his huge arms around Adrian.

They seemed to forget I was watching. Adrian was whispering something soothing to Don, but all I could make out was: "I'm here."

That was all I needed to hear.

My jaw dropped as I realized that every suspicion I (along with most of the other guys I grew up with) had about the big stallion Don and his faithful, little companion was being confirmed: that they were a little light in the loafers. No guy buds had the right to hold and coddle each other like they were.

Then it came to me, the idea that would turn this night into the crème de la crème of all heists. The opportunity was staring me in the face, I just had to seize it.

I'd finally get Don and Adrian to tie the knot, in every legal sense of the word.

I didn't ponder on it much before I decided to test the waters a little and the rest could come later. As a seasoned con, I knew not to get ahead of myself. So I started for the couple on the ground and joined them.

"Calm down, Don," I said softly.

"My...my parents..." Don struggled through his sobs.

Adrian turned to me, his eyes a little glazed. "His parents were in the city. With the Bellers. That's where the wedding was going to take place."

My ears perked up. "What wedding?"

Adrian leaned in closer. "He's getting...married to Lauran Beller."

From what I could remember, Lauran Beller was a little freshmen follie. Nothing ever signaled to me that she'd ever wind up with Don, though a lot could happen in two years. Plus, from what I could remember, Lauran's family was a little wealthier than the Fergendys.

"We were gonna stay until he could get off work then head down," Adrian continued, still stroking Don's mane. "We were renting some suits when the radio broadcast came on. So we got into his car and--"

"There're gone!" Don roared.

"Shh, please," Adrian consoled. "Calm down. I know how it feels." Adrian should've certainly known how it felt.

Then the stallion looked up in my direction. Looking past me at my truck, I saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"Norb, your truck doesn't look bad."

"It's stuck in the mud," I replied.

Don's began to sit up. "If we could help you get it out...would you..." his voice trailed off.

This was the turning point, I thought, I could come clean now or tread the waters a little farther. Either way, I figured, I could get my truck out of the mud and Don and Adrian would find out the truth sooner or later. So I decided to compromise.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I said. "You heard the radio. It said stay away from congested areas. The gas is probably everywhere by now."

"Did you see anything?" Adrian asked.

"Not much. I was listening to the radio too. But other than a little traffic and what looked like a couple bursts of flame, nothing."

I was covering my bases. Now if Don and Adrian figured out the truth, I'd be as much innocently misinformed as they were.

"Radio?" asked Adrian getting to his feet. "Your truck has one? Is it working?"

I shook my head. "I think the antenna was knocked off when I turned off the road."

Audrain sighed. "So that's it."

No sooner did he speak did a flash of light appear in the dark sky. We looked up. There was another flash. It was heat lightening, bright enough to reveal dark clouds coming in from the south. I looked at Don and Adrian. Their eyes were wide, their fur pale, and their mouths open. A whole three years before being drafted into the Second World War, I'd seen the face of death on theirs.

"The black smoke..." Don said trembling under his breathe. "It's coming this way."

I couldn't tell that whether or not it was, but I knew he was convinced of it and I just had to play along. As every con knows, you take what life gives you.

"Look fellas," I said adjusting my fedora. "If there's any place my truck ain't going, its east."

Don put his hopeless eyes into his hands. I knelt down and shook his shoulders.

"Don, you heard the radio. It's the end. There's no use in fighting this because they've already wiped out our military. We're all finished and it was probably best that your parents got the early flight off this planet, because it ain't gonna be ours for long."

Don didn't start crying again though he inhaled a couple of deep sniffles into his large snout. Adrian, who was still stroking at Don's mane, nodded as I spoke.

"The best thing we can do," I continued, "is enjoy what's left of it. And you know what? After all the burdens that the world put on us, I say good riddance." I grasped Don's broad shoulders tighter. "In that world, you had to marry Lauren Beller. Don't tell me you wanted to."

Don's wet face shot up to mine.

Checkmate.

"If that world wouldn't allow two people who are no more deserving of each other to marry, then I say to hell--

"Don!" Adrian sprang up abruptly. "I love you."

Don, still kneeling, gapped up at the border collie in amazement, as did I.

"Nord is right," Adrian continued. "If we're gonna fight for anything anymore, let's do it for what we should have been all along. And--"

Don sprang up and covered Adrian's mouth.

"I know," he said looking into Adrian's eyes. Then he lowered his lips onto the border collie's. Adrian didn't even flinch and met his stallion's lips half way.

I got to my feet, again it was as if they'd forgotten me, because they weren't shy in displaying what had been between them all this time. My stomach turned. The sight of the two kissing filled me with excitement and a little bit terror. I'd done plenty of tricks to disturb the peace, but this was on a whole new plain. With just a little speech, I was tearing down the walls of decency. Part of me screamed at me to stop, but my weasel instincts screamed louder.

"Guys," I said standing up straight, as proper and as serious as I could look. "We don't have much time, so why not make it official? You know you've wanted to all this time. One to really show 'em."

Don wrinkled his brow perplexed, but Adrian understood right away. "Let's get married!" Adrian yelped. Don drew back.

"Why?" the stallion said looking at me. "I mean, what's the point? You said that the world is over."

I grinned. "And that's what makes it grand! Come on, it'll be our last big act, getting you two married under its rules. As far as I know, there's no law that says a couple like you can't get married."

Don rubbed his chin.

"Don?" Adrian spoke up. "Can I propose?"

"No," Don said sternly. Adrian's ears lowered, but they perked back up as he saw his stallion bend down on one knee. Don reached into his pocket and took out two gold wedding bands.

"Adrian..." he began, presenting them to the border collie. Adrian only jumped on Don, kissed and licked his nose as he repeated "yes."

Thinking it appropriate, I applauded.

Don grinned in a kind of was that said: "I can't believe I didn't that, but I'm glad." If they really believed that Don's parents and his fiancée's family had been poisoned in New York by Martians and they were going to suffer a similar fate, it wasn't on their faces in that moment. All that was there was an unstrained joy that I could tell they had been hiding for a long, long time.

Finally, Don looked up at me with a sober seriousness.

"Alright," he said coolly. "How are we going to do this? Don't we need a preacher and a license?"

Adrian held up a pair of keys.

"What are those?" I asked.

"For the courthouse, where I work. That's where we can get our license. As for a preacher," Adrian looked up at Don. "We don't need one. Pennsylvania has self-authenticating marriage. All we need is two witnesses and a county clerk to sign off on it."

Then Adrian looked at his watch, squinting in the dark. "It's about quarter to nine. If Nelly isn't still at the courthouse, I know where to find her, especially now."

"Who's Nelly?" I asked.

"The county clerk."

Don shook his head. "Will she do it?"

Adrian squeezed Don's hand. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

I agreed and pointed to my truck. "But we gotta get this thing back on the road first."

Don stepped forward. "I can help with that."

Don had two planks of wood his truck and we slid them under my truck's tires for traction. I took the wheel, Don manned the front, and Adrian stood at the rear to direct me. As I put the gear in reverse and pressed on the gas, Don pulled up and pushed. The tire picked up traction and the truck began to move. Don gave a particular glance at Adrian as he heaved and pushed. He was trying to impress his little border collie in a way he couldn't before, open flirtation. A quick look at Adrian in my side mirror told me that he noticed it too and was enjoying it.

With my truck finally back on the road, Adrian and Don hopped in. Don put his broad arm over Adrian's slender waist and they rested their heads together.

They were unconditionally happy.

That pesky voice I kept in the back of my head was desperately trying to get through to me that this was going too far. I rolled my eyes, figuring I'd be the judge of that.

Still, they were friends. Was I really going to do this to them?

Adrian moved to Milford when we were all about twelve. His parents had died and the most probable sandlot story about how was that they committed suicide after the stock market crashed. Adrian's small frame, large glasses, and orphan status made him a prime target for bullying, but not after Don stepped in. Adrian was practically the reason Don made it through middle school, and in exchange for his tutoring, Don gave him protection. But as time went on, it was apparent that there was something more to their relationship than contract, because they became inseparable, even as Don grew and started to hang mostly with his stallion peers as most horse bachelors did. I came into the picture when I got Adrian to help me study for my commercial driver's license test. Of course, Don took priority over our study sessions. One time I joked to Adrian that he and Don might as well tie the knot.

I guess that was tonight's inspiration.

Okay, so they were friends, that hadn't stopped me from using my magic before. Besides, there's something more to what I do then just unfettered instinct to weasel my way round people: curiosity. I may be manipulative, but I'm not malicious. For me, the best tricks are when I just have to move a few blocks around, sit back, and enjoy the roobs' reactions. I discover who people are when they step out of their routine. And considering how Don and Adrian were reacting to their belief that the world was ending, by tearing up society's game board between them and going right for each other, I figured they could go for a little self-discovery themselves.

Of course, I didn't know that my blocks were about to be rotated as well.

On the way up the road, I was pondering these thoughts as well as how this was going to work. The parties were willing and the tools were at our disposal, or so it seemed, but then what? I supposed I'd drive them as far as Scranton. If and how I'd break it to them I could decide later, but I would give them money to get back, and yes, I'd see what my insurance could do about Don's car.

But my train of thought was broken as we reached Milford, because the entire town was dark. That...and the gunshots.

At first, I thought I heard my engine backfiring, but the second shot was unmistakable, especially as it ricocheted off the hood of the truck.

"Holy shit!" I screamed and slammed on the brake. The truck curved hard and I thought it would tip over. Thankfully, it stabilized and we ducked. A rain of gunshots came in from in front of us. A bullet knocked my side mirror off and one struck the corner of the windshield. We were all yelling. A couple more hit the front of the truck and one would take out my left headlight.

Then they stopped.

There was a murmur between what sounded like a group of men. The voices seemed familiar to Don.

"Lou!" Don shouted. "Lou! Don't shoot! It's us!"

"Don?" a voice answered. "Is that you?"

As we slowly rose to our seats, a tall, burly horse came to the passenger window. He peered inside and I figured that this was Lou because Don breathed a sigh of relief.

"God, Don! We thought you're one of them tripods. The hell you doing?" the horse, Lou, demanded.

"We're heading back into town," Don said calmly, his arm no longer around Adrian.

Lou shook his head. "Nope. You're not." I looked ahead and saw a group of horses, all holding shotguns, slowly approach the truck.

"What happened to the lights?" Adrian interjected.

"Power's out," Lou answered as if answering Don. "Magine the whole region is too."

My ears perked. From what I remembered, power outages were common in Milford since it wasn't exactly top priority to electric utilities. Still, it was dead on perfect timing, but I took it like everything else.

"It's good that you're alright," Lou said with little sincerity. Then he tapped on the door with something metallic. "But we'll take it from here. Sam's got another gun for ya."

Don shook his head reluctantly.

"What do you mean 'take it from here'?" I asked. Lou looked at me, there was a flare of madness in his eyes.

"Who the hell are you?" he scoffed.

"This is Norb," said Don. "We grew up together. He was passing through and picked us up."

"Whatever," Lou snorted. "What I mean is that we're taking the truck. Those tripods will be here soon and this truck looks like it could carry all of us plus our guns. Could use it as a barricade if we need."

"You're not taking it!" I shouted.

Lou lifted up his arms and pressed his rifle into the window right at me.

"Lou!" Adrian shouted and again ignored.

My face dropped. It was the first time someone pointed a gun at me, again three years early from the war.

"Now get out," Lou hissed.

"There's no point," said Don as calmly as he could. "Didn't you hear? They've already wiped out our military."

Lou huffed. "They couldn't of wiped all of it in just a few minutes."

I had to hand it to him, he had some sense.

"You hear what the President said on the radio," Lou continued. "There're still mostly in Jersey, and we're gonna make sure they stay there."

"They wiped out our tanks, planes, and men!" I exclaimed. "You think your rifles and my truck will--"

"Shut up!" he roared.

"Lou," Don pleaded. "The war is over. We lost. Enjoy life while you still can." I saw Don gently squeeze Adrian's knee.

"You too," Lou said pointing the rifle at Don's face. "Cause you guys ain't above suspicion either, coming from the east and all."

"Haven't you seen the smoke in the sky?" Don hissed. Lou looked up. Another quiet flash illuminated the clouds encroaching from the south.

Lou made a ghastly smile. "That's it," he whispered in excitement. "There close, their coming." I was scared. I could respect Orson Welles before, especially if he meant his little radio show to be mistaken for an actual news flash, it takes a prankster to appreciate another's art. But I had purpose. If the look on Lou's face, that paranoid and excited anticipation to kill, was what Welles wanted or was too negligent to expect, then I had nothing to admire about him.

All of a sudden, there was a gust of wind, causing the trees to creek, which startled the posse and Lou who pulled his rifle out of the window and cocked it.

"Tripod!" Adrian screamed as he pointed in the direction behind Lou. Lou turned and pointed his rifle up to the sky. Don unlatched the door and slammed it against Lou's back. The horse fell to the ground. Before his friends could react, I floored the gas. The truck lunged forward and all the horses in front of me leapt out of the way. There were a couple more shots from behind but nothing hit.

Don was laughing in the "I've always wanted to do that" way as he hugged Adrian and kissed his forehead. I chuckled as I tried to put myself back together.

Milford was dark and my one headlight made it hard to navigate. But Adrian directed me to the county courthouse, where the two went in together and came out with some papers.

"You find the right license?" I asked as they piled back into the truck.

"And then some," Adrian answered with glee as he presented a batch of license certificates. "Figured it'd be good to have. You never know.

I could only nod. "Where do we find the county clerk?"

Adrian led me a few blocks over, but it didn't take long for me to know where we were going. My heart sank.

It was the First Milford Church. My concerns were more practical then divine. I could only expect that someone would be there to screw up a plan that was working beyond my expectations.

We went in and I took off my fedora--I still had some respect. The church was dreary, illuminated by rows of candles on the altar. To my surprise, there were only two others there: a buck and a doe standing beside the altar. They were pressing their mouths against each other in a deep and tight smooch. The buck's hand was descending the doe's side and sliding over her tail when they saw us. They jumped up so quickly that when their mouth's separated, the slurp echoed.

"Adrian!" The doe exclaimed and came down the aisle towards us.

"Nelly!" The border collie smiled as they embraced.

"I'm so glad you're okay," said Nelly.

"And you," he responded. "Nelly, we need you to do something for us."

Here it was.

I looked up to the young buck. He was wearing a dark suit, had an athletic built, and a stern face. I recognized him as Reverend Phelps, the assistant pastor in my day. He was probably the head pastor now. I nodded but he did nothing in return except to mutter things I barely could make out, likely scripture. He was probably still in shock of being found fondling a pretty doe at work, though I'd think he'd be more conscious about his boss watching then just a few lost souls.

"I can't do that," Nelly said. I looked over, realizing what I had missed. Adrian's face dropped as Nelly stepped backward. Don glared at the doe, but she didn't notice. Phelps must have heard Adrian's request, because he struck up the chorus shrill.

I looked at Adrian, who was beginning to back up, his mouth hanging. I guess than he'd never heard that verse Phelps was spewing now, the one about guy to guy fornication. Don stood his ground, clutching his fists. And there was me, the one who took the lid off the bottle. I guessed it was my responsibility to tell Phelps that there was no putting the lid back on now. I took one of the license certificates from Adrian and walked up the aisle.

"This truly is the end of times," the preacher lamented.

"Look, Rev Phelps," I said, "I know you're not used to being talked to like this. But we need you to tell your doe over there to sign off on a marriage license, for my friends." I presented the license to him. "We also need you to be a witness because we need two. And you will, after you hear my proposal."

Phelps shook his head. "I can't endorse an unnatural act."

"Love," I scowled. "You know, the kind you preach about, is an unnatural act." Something came over me, I was unsure were these words were coming from; it was like speaking in tongues. After being threatened with death, I certainly wasn't going to let this young preacher get in my way--or theirs. The funny thing was, I believed everything I'd say, which I guest made if less of a sin.

"You talked about it much, Rev. I've heard you. Unconditional charity, commitment, union of souls, and the whole thing. You know what that feels like?" My eyes pointed at Nelly. "I think you do. Painful. You're yearning for your mate. This isn't fornication, Rev, between that horse and that border collie or between you and your doe. He knows you can't help it, because you know she's meant for you and I know they're meant for each other. We both know this is the end, and why? I can tell you it's because too few have what is between those two and you and her."

Phelps gave a distant look but he was thinking about it.

"So why snuff out what God is now punishing this world for its lack of?" I continued. "I can see how much you want to share yourself with her, even for what little of life you have left. That's all they want." I handed him the license. "They have another one. It's for you and her if you are willing to work with us."

"Matthew says..." Phelps uttered, his voice rasp and his glazed eyes were locked on Nelly; he was fighting back tears. "It says there'll be no marriage at the end times. When the dead rise."

I grinned. "Rev, I've listened to that entire broadcast and I swear to you, the dead aren't rising yet. This is just the beginning of the end."

He looked at me, eyes wide. I tapped the license in his hand.

"So why not just get it on the record that you two were man and wife before the final moment? With the look on your face, you're gonna be sharing yourself with her married or not." I looked at my watch: 10:14pm. "Better decide now. Time is going fast. The black smoke is coming."

Phelps's ears shot up and his jaw dropped, but there was still an ounce of stubbornness in him. I figured now was the time for the homerun.

"Look, Rev, its best for us to give you what you want now and you repent later. In the final judgment, I'll stand as a witness on your behalf to let 'em know that we forced you to do it, which we are." Again, I tapped the license and then pointed to his doe. "This for that."

Phelps nodded and walked with me to the group at the other side of the church to tell Nelly it was alright.

Adrian and Don were all smiles as Nelly filled out the papers and Phelps and I signed as witnesses. Even the two deer lightened up when Adrian, as assistant clerk, did the same for their marriage license and Don and I signed as witnesses. In fact, in the ecstasy of the moment, Phelps gave us all an informal blessing as Don put the rings on Adrian's finger. When everything was done, it was bitter sweet departing, for them at least since they thought this was probably the last time that they were going to see each other. Another flash of lightening showed the clouds getting closer. Adrian asked if they would come with us.

Phelps shook his head and held Nelly close. "This is our sanctuary. If we die, then we want to spend our last moments together and not running." Then he looked at me. "And I expect you to be there for me like you promised." I smiled and tipped my fedora.

With a whimper, Nelly hugged us and Phelps gave us a final blessing, which meant a lot to Don and Adrian.

As we got in to the truck, we watched Phelps and Nelly circle the church and go into his small rectory. I looked up at the cross on the steeple and felt unease in my abdomen. A con is like a gambler, take what you get and prioritize, the rest is up to God (or whatever you believe fills the gap). Adrian had tears in his eyes and Don whipped them with his nose, they were each holding their marriage license. I was beginning to wonder if I was really the conman or a pawn to someone else's end. A famous hymn lyric buzzed in my head.

"Tis grace that hath brought me safe thus far and grace will lead me home."

We returned to the courthouse and Don and Adrian went in to file the two marriage licenses. I went with them thinking the finality of putting them in the appropriate filing cabinet would be relieving, but it wasn't. Instead, my gut wrenched that there was still something left to do, like a joke that could have one more and better punch line.

Outside the dark clouds were encroaching on the town's limits. I had to speed to keep out of their reach for Don and Adrian's sake. They eyed them not with horror but with defeat. We were just a mile or so out of town when Adrian told me to stop.

"We gotta go," I said. "The smoke is almost here."

Adrian shook his head and smiled at Don, giving him a soft kiss on his nose. "You heard what Reverend Phelps said. I don't want to spend what little time we have left worrying about where to run to or where to eat. I just want to spend it loving you and only that."

Don's face sank and he looked out the window at the incoming black clouds. They had become big and menacing and I could only image how intimidating they would be for a person who thought they were carrying poison. But when Adrian rubbed his thigh, the stallion pouted in agreement. Adrian buried his head in Don's muscular chest.

This was what they thought would be the last decision they'd ever make and judging by their face they were glad that this was their last.

"Are you sure," I said with a respectful whisper.

They nodded together, which made me smile to myself as I remembered that they were now one. All there was left to do was...

Adrian shot me a heated and determined glance, I knew right away what his intentions were: to take Don into the forest where they would make love until they are swallowed by the black smoke. That sickening feeling of guilt and wonder returned to the pit of my stomach. I hoped with all my heart that the sensation wasn't jealousy.

Adrian pulled out the several spare licenses from his vest pocket and handed them to me.

"This is the end of the line for us, Norb," he said warmly. "But you still have a little ways to go yourself. These might come in handy."

I took the licenses and gave them a stupid grin. "Guess I'll be the apocalyptic matchmaker."

Adrian inclined his head as Don pressed him close to his chest.

"You were right," said Adrian rubbing his nose against Don's. "If this world's gonna go, then let it go the best it's ever been--truthful. I just hope that you can find the same happiness that you've given us.

"I-I" Don shuttered. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Guys!" I shouted.

Now was the time. The time to let them know. I couldn't let them go into that forest and...and...

I could almost laugh at myself. I'd gone through all this trouble to bind them in soul and in law, but I shrunk to think of them consummating themselves in the flesh? In their faces was a happiness that I knew that I experienced, even though I knew that it was going to be longer than what these two anticipated.

"What is it?" asked Don.

"I...I'm happy for you," I said, not really a lie at all, despite what I was willing admit to myself at the time. "Just remember, you only got each other now, course that's all you ever really needed. Just promise me..." I eyed Adrian and then Don. "When the smoke comes...don't let go."

Don and Adrian both nodded with brave glances, like soldiers.

I admit, I was disheartened to think that what they were about to face, what the clouds were really bringing, would be much more terrifying then poison.

They both embraced me and thanked me again. Adrian gave me a soft lick on the cheek. Then they got out into the street and waved as I started the truck and pulled forward. Both their eyes were glazed by tears, joy mixed with sorrow and fear but overcome with determination. The last image that I have of them is their state in the street: hanging onto each other, Don lifting Adrian's small body high and joining his muzzle with Adrian's as Don advanced on the woods.

I would never see them again and I would never return to Milford. Nor would I ever hear from them, because an insurance claim was never filed.

Only a mile or so up the road did I see a sign for the next county. I almost expected it to read: You Are Now Leaving the War of the Worlds, Welcome Back to the Only World of 1938. Before I could think of a place to make some minor repairs to my truck, like the head light, I started to ponder what I would be pondering for the rest of my life.

I felt like Pandora opening her box of chaos. Right now, two soul mates, who were never meant to be together because they were of different species and of the same-sex, were alone in the woods. All because of me. At the same time I felt like a pawn. Everything seemed to work too well, like an invisible hand was guiding us. I still don't know which is more unsettling.

How are two guys, especially a horse and a border collie, going to share a wedding night? Of course, the looks on their faces told me that they'd find a way and I shuddered at the thought of the most probable method. I turn the radio on, forgetting that the antenna was lost. Still, I turned the static up to full blast. At that moment Adrian and Don were naked, rolling around in the mud of the forest, Don was grunting, and Adrian was screaming in pain and joy. They'd wish it could last forever but at the same time knew they had to hurry if they were to reach a climax before they were suffocated by the black clouds.

Did I regret doing it?

When I like to think I still have some standing to society, I tell myself I do. When I like to think that my art has integrity (ironic as it may seem), I tell myself I don't. But one thing is for sure: I did find out who Don and Adrian were after all. They were a pair that showed more devotion to each other than almost any other couple I've known. It's something that I would never have in my life and makes part of me wish that they kept their promise to me.

Suddenly, there was a small tapping at my windshield which grew louder and faster. I started laughing hysterically. It was the greatest con of our generation, piggy backed off the second, and it was orchestrated by me...

...and I didn't even stick around for the punch line: the black clouds arriving with nothing but a light rain.

The End