Constantine - The Novelization - Whoa is (Not)

Molly's Burger was unusually crowded, considering the late hour. Constantine and Angela saton stools outside, watching people trail in and out of the place; people sitting at the outdoortables; homeboys talking on the street comer nearby.Constantine pushed the remains of his second burger away, feeling that he'd created an innerillusion of being filled; of being really here in this world, and far from the astral nightmare he'djust escaped.He sat back, wanting a cigarette, but he decided he didn't want to subject Angela to the smoke.So he coughed a few times instead and drank some tea and said, just loud enough for Angelato hear, "God and the Devil. Oldest bad relationship in history. Very, very competitive."Angels and demons can't cross over onto our plane. So instead we get what I call half-breeds.Say you were very good in life - or very, very bad - they wrap your soul up in human skin andsend you back here on missions. Rest in peace, my ass."He looked around at the people nearby. Most of them really were just people.Most of them.He lowered his voice even more, leaning toward her. "They look like us so they blend in...sent to dwell among humans. Those with the demons' touch, like those part-angel, livingalongside us. The half-breeds. They can only whisper in our ears. But a single word can giveyou courage. Or turn your favorite pleasure into your worst nightmare. They call it the Balance."He drank some more tea. Was careful not to look at the thick-ankled lady with the fiery red hair,stumping past. Sensing she was one of them. He waited till she was out of earshot beforecontinuing. "So when a half-breed breaks the rules, tries to control free will, or hijacks a soul, Ideport his sorry ass right back to Hell. I don't get them all, but I've been hoping to get enough toensure my retirement.""Your... retirement?""I'm a suicide, Angela. When I die the rules say I've got just one place to go."She stared at him. "Let me get this straight. You're trying to buy your way into Heaven?"'What would you do if you were sentenced to prison where half the inmates were put there byyou?"Angela studied him. He felt like he was the madman, she the psychiatrist. But what she saidnext made her sound like one of the crazies. "How does someone escape Hell?"He toyed with his Styrofoam cup of tea. "I have no idea."She swallowed. Her voice was bitter. "Let me guess: God has a plan for all of us.""God's a kid with an ant farm, lady. He's not planning anything.""When we were little, Isabel saw things, too. Like you do."He snorted. Wishing she hadn't reminded him. "When I was a kid..."He seemed to see his younger self - about ten years old - walking by the counter, the boyishJohn Constantine in the room with them right now ....He watched the boy Constantine, followed himself with his inner gaze, tracking this youngapparition back into memory... explaining some of it to Angela as he took the journey."I saw things humans aren't supposed to see..." And he remembered:--The boy Constantine, a lean kid in jeans and jacket too big for him, with an unruly mop ofhair, walking down the hallway of his apartment building. Passing an open door where anervous, wide-eyed woman with bruises on her face was handing money to a monster.The monster gave her something back - a gun.Not a figurative monster. A man-shaped freakish thing with all-black eyes, his entire bodycovered with crawling, gnashing shit-colored cockroaches.The boy winced and bit his lips but just kept walking. Best he not say anything about this toanyone else. He'd learned that other people couldn't see the monsters the way he did...