Constantine - The Novelization - Whoa is (Not)

Angela reached out and put her hand over his. He was amazed by how much that small touchconveyed. How much warmth and life and tenderness. And yet, he thought, she was a cop - andfrom what she'd said on the way here, one who'd been so willing to use her gun, it scared people.He cleared his throat. "When 1 came back, 1 knew.All the things 1 could see were real. You know something?" He snorted. "Crazy was better."Angela sipped her tea and waited."I learned to not see the demons, the dead" - Constantine went on, lowering his voice - "unlessI made a certain, psychic effort. And even then I pretended they weren't there… unless Iwas with people who knew. People who could teach me things - the kind of self-defense youneed in the astral world...."Angela looked nervously around. "So if you can still see them when you want to... Uh - arethere any… in here ?Constantine glanced at her. "You sure you don't know?"'Why would I?"He shrugged. He looked around. He dilated his psychic iris. There - that couple in the comer.Yuppie woman and metrosexual man. Both of them admiring her new purse, his new Guccishoes. The two of them glancing over at him - twitching their tails, snake tongues licking out,their dragon eyes narrowing warningly as they sensed him. They hadn't been sent here to takehim out, he figured. They seemed surprised that he'd spotted them for what they were. But bestto keep an eye on them. Remembering the vermin-formed demon, the attack from the wingedthings downtown. Another attack was sure to come....He became aware that Angela was nervously waiting for his report. "Nah," he said. "None inhere."He wanted a cigarette more and more and it was beginning to make his nerves taut andtwangy. Keep your mind off it, old boy."Heaven and Hell are right here, Angela. Behind every wall, every window - the world behindthe world. And we're smack in the middle. 'The Balance?'" He put his cup down hard enough tomake the tea splash. "I call it hypocritical bullshit…."--There-a pay phone, in front of the liquor store, half a long block away. Father Hennessyjogged down the street toward it, sweat already making his clothes stick to him.Maybe this phone was working. Hennessy had gone to two pay phones on the street already;both were vandalized past use. He wished his cell phone were still working. Should've paid thebill. Should've known there'd be an emergency, with Johnny Constantine asking favors.God, he wanted a drink. The voices of the dead seemed to be hinting; they seemed to besaying personal things now...."Father... aren't you thirsty? Something is...""Oh, he's fine, he's been drinking in the morgue…""...laughing at us, ignoring us, turning away from us, when we beg him to intercede with hisChrist, his Holy Mother, but none of them help, the Saints won't answer: At least the devils willspeak to you; at least they will take notice... My Katherine never took notice, just shut me out,and thought I didn't know about her little blond boyfriend, so I killed them both, and made sureshe lived long enough to see me standing over her, saying, 'Take notice now, do you, Katherine,eh?' Do you see, Father, what happens when people don't take notice, eh?""It's snuffling for you, Father: It's snuffling nigh and nearer yet, Padre, you coweringhypocrite .... " God how he wanted to shut them up.Just to go home and put the aluminum foil back up on the wall and pour a tumbler of bourbon.Shut them all out. But there was no time to get back to his place, and his bottle; not yet. He hadto get in touch with Constantine.He got to the pay phone, dropped in a big handful of change, each coin seeming to take