St. Izzy of F Street: Chapters 53-55
A Pre-Apocalyptic Novel: Installment 23 of 28
Cover design by Kris Norris; main photo by Alonso Reyes
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Back cover description
An autistic journalist in Washington, DC, befriends a homeless woman who wields an “End is Near” sign and proclaims the coming destruction of the world. Sonny remains skeptical of Izzy’s prophecies, even as they come true with increasingly dire results—natural disasters, wars, and the loss of his career. One message catches the FBI’s attention, which sends Sonny into depression and panic attacks. He can ignore Izzy as delusional or help spread the word, but he needs a sign before it’s too late.
Previously in Chapter 52
While Sonny, Dori, and Levi grabbed a bite to eat at the pub, breaking news on the TV shows a giant explosion with a mushroom cloud somewhere over Iran.
Chapter 53
“If we see a three-headed dragon, then Izzy was right.”
We paid the tab without drinking our dessert beers and made our way home as fast as Dori could manage with the cane.
“I’m going to start moving some funds around,” Levi said, staying about five paces ahead of Dori and me, so he had to stop every time he wanted to talk to us. “I can’t take a chance of too much all at once, so a bunch is just going into crypto.”
“How risky is that?” Dori asked.
“It’s all risky,” he said. “But crypto could go either way in a nuclear war, I suppose. Banks, markets, all that could vanish. Or be impossible to access. We’ve got two hundred K in crypto. It might be worth two bucks in a week. Or two million.”
Levi hurried home ahead of us. I held Dori’s arm, and we took our time. Wouldn’t matter if we were out on the sidewalk or snug in our apartment if a nuke hit DC. We’d be toast either way.
When we made the last step up, Levi sat on the landing outside, next to the front door, smoking a cigar. He held out two more for us. Levi had never smoked a cigar.
“Where’d you get these anyway?”
“Had them in my sock drawer for the past two years waiting for a special occasion. I’m glad I got three of them. I’d figured I’d be smoking all of them by myself at the time.”
I helped Dori get to a sitting position, then I joined her. We each took a cigar and lit up. I choked and coughed. Dori blew a perfect smoke ring.
“Is smoking these things our last great act of defiance before we’re incinerated?” I asked, then gingerly tried another puff, remembering not to inhale.
“No,” Levi said. “We’re celebrating.”
Dori blew a puff right in Levi’s face. “What the fuck are we celebrating?”
Levi waved it away, then did it right back to her. “You haven’t checked your phones, have you?”
No, we hadn’t.
“Wasn’t a bomb,” Levi said, then took another puff to blow in my face. “Fuckin’ volcano.”
~~~
I hadn’t known this level of relief in a long time. Maybe ever. Only a volcano.
“Mount Damavand,” Dori read from her laptop, as we all sat at the kitchen table. “Dormant for seven thousand years. Seismologists have predicted it was due for an eruption sometime — anytime — in the next ten thousand years. Completely caught off guard. No warning.”
I read news reports while Levi shuffled funds. Better now than after the first detonation, he’d decided.
“Listen to this,” I said. “The whole cloud is drifting over Tehran. The sun should be coming up there about now, and it’s still pitch black. Several small villages at the base of the mountain are pulverized. Authorities say there could be no survivors, but they can’t even try to get there to find out.”
Dori read through Izzy’s messages on the website. One by one, going through all the as-yet unfulfilled prophecies.
“Can you search for keywords?” I suggested. “Like Damavand, volcano, lava, ash, death, destruction, whatever.”
She jerked her face toward me, her eyebrows doing something weird and indecipherable. “Gee, why didn’t I think of that?”
“Voilà!” Levi fist-bumped an imaginary person sitting next to him in the vacant chair. “Making bank! Now, how may I be of further assistance to you two?”
“Find everything you can find on Mount Damavand,” Dori barked at him. “Sonny-Boy, keep checking news updates.”
We all went back to our respective laptops and worked in silence. Other than Levi, who had to call out every fact.
“Wikipedia calls it a ‘dormant stratovolcano.’ I need to go in and update that for them.”
More silence for about thirty seconds.
“Damavand is never mentioned in the Bible,” Dori said. “Levi, are there any older names for it?”
Levi dug in to find out. “No, apparently not. Even ancient Persian mythology called it that.”
I jumped in with the latest news updates. “Iran’s military movements have all turned to help with disaster recovery. UN is trying to negotiate a cessation of all hostilities in order to move in humanitarian assistance. Tehran is getting buried in ash. Only sixty miles from the eruption.”
“Oh cool,” Levi said.
Dori and I both stared at him until he stared back.
“What? Not cool that people are dying or anything. Just cool old Persian mythology shit. A three-headed dragon chained there until the end of the world. So, like, if we see a three-headed dragon, then Izzy was right.”
“Izzy hasn’t mentioned any dragons,” Dori said. “Or three-headed anythings.”
“She mentioned giants though, didn’t she?” he asked.
“Checking... oh yeah, wait. That Stay Puft dude. Let me find that.”
Dori took approximately 0.2 seconds of searching Izzy’s prophecies, then read, “With a rain of fire and brimstone, the white giant shall demolish the dome of the earth.”
Levi jumped up and ran around the table, planting a kiss on Dori’s cheek. Then he jumped to my side and planted a kiss on my cheek. He hooted and hollered and fell back into his chair.
“Look at this ancient Persian poem.” Levi turned his laptop to face Dori and me.
O white giant with feet in chains,
O dome of the world, O Damāvand.