“A Very Merry Christmas!” Pierce Hart said with a smile.
She scowled at Hart as he handed over his ticket.
I’ll win her over. Hart let his inner light show through a radiant smile. She rolled her eyes. Orson had ducked into the Starbuck’s while the rest checked their bags for the flight to the convention in Frisco. Pierce had made breakthroughs with chant, rhythmic breathing and meditation. “‘Grey Dawn’ begins with the duality of the universe and works the reader back to one unified whole, pre big-bang. It dissolves the Yin and the Yang into one Grey Harmonic Ocean of peace and love within its circle, which symbolizes the universe,” Pierce pitched it to Orson as they walked through Concourse B.
“Won’t work. People want black and white, not grey. That stuff’s cold now. Dark and angry sells. Got any sexy Werewolves? Child Warlocks and angsty Vampires are hot, too,” he had said.
"But I've evolved. I am beyond duality; pain and pleasure. I do unity and unconditional love now. Maybe it's time I got a new agent," Pierce had blurted.
"Okay," Orson had said.
That hurt, Pierce thought. “Huh? Oh.” Pierce said, a little startled. “It’s a hat. That’s what goes in a hat box, a hat.” Pierce answered the clerk’s question.
Peace and love. He doesn’t get it. Pierce thought as he leaned. He wants darkness, and I don’t do darkness and anger. It’s just not in me. I am light.
“What? Yes I would like to check it along with my other bags, thank you.”
Darkness, anger… “Huh? Yes, I’m aware it has an octagonal shape, and yes I’m sure I’d like to check it, jeez.”
Peace and love… Darkness and anger… Pierce made out the distinct Orson gait approaching. Coffee in hand, looking so cheery. What's he so happy about? Pierce wondered. He has no right to…
“WHAT?! EIGHTY dollars extra, just for a hatbox?!” Pierce turned back to the agent. “You’ve got to be friggin kidding me?!”
“Yes sir, ‘extra-bag’ fee, twenty dollars. 'Irregular shape box' fee, sixty dollars. TSA mandated,” she said, smiling.
“Just gimme the box, goddamit,” he said.
A nearby security guard moved in their direction.
“Well!” she huffed.
“The box,” he said, his hand jutting.
“What seems to be the problem?” the security guard asked.
“That man is angry and out of control, officer.”
“I’m not out of control, I just…”
“Sir, please step over here with me,” the guard ordered.
“NO! I have a plane to catch.” Other customers squirmed. “What’s your name and your badge number? I’m going to report you.”
“Sir, please put your hands on top of your head.”
Pierce wasn’t cooperative and now the officer radioed for backup and reached for his baton. He moved toward Pierce.
“Thank you,” the baggage agent said to the officer with a smile. “Next,” she called.
“Die in hell you evil witch!” Pierce yelled as the officer slipped the club around his neck while he flailed.
“Peace and love, Hart. What happened?” Orson said as he walked up.
Hart scowled at the clerk, his eyes bugging out of his head as he choked. “AAARRGGHHH.” He gnashed in her direction.
“A Very Merry Christmas, sir” she said with smile.
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