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An Interview with Lucifer: Because every story has two sides
An Interview with Lucifer: Because every story has two sides
An Interview with Lucifer: Because every story has two sides
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An Interview with Lucifer: Because every story has two sides

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When Ray, a young reporter for the Record, is both praised and challenged by its chief editor to get that "rare" interview, he takes it to heart. He nonchalantly swears to give his soul for an hour's interview with the most controversial figure available. Little does he know that his flippant remark will bring him face-to-face with the king of evil himself and put his very soul and those of whom he is closest to at risk. And just how sincere is Lucifer with the many questions he does answer and the information he shares? Finally, is Ray's soul doomed for eternity, or is there a way for him to outmaneuver Lucifer himself? His soul and the lives of those closest to him depend on it.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateDec 13, 2021
ISBN9781662491634
An Interview with Lucifer: Because every story has two sides

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    An Interview with Lucifer - H Bocanegra

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    An Interview with Lucifer

    Because every story has two sides

    H Bocanegra

    Copyright © 2021 H Bocanegra

    All rights reserved

    First Edition

    PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

    Conneaut Lake, PA

    First originally published by Page Publishing 2021

    The contents of the following story are based on rumors of a supposed interview that took place a few years back in deep South Texas. According to the story told and retold, the events unfolded slowly and deliberately as depicted in this writing. Efforts to gather witnesses and materials relating to the story are ongoing and producing mixed results.

    ISBN 978-1-6624-9186-3 (pbk)

    ISBN 978-1-6624-9163-4 (digital)

    Printed in the United States of America

    Tabla de contenido

    Chapter 1

    Chapter 2

    Chapter 3

    Chapter 4

    Chapter 5

    Chapter 6

    Chapter 7

    Chapter 8

    Chapter 9

    Chapter 10

    Chapter 11

    Chapter 12

    Chapter 13

    Chapter 14

    Chapter 1

    Ray made the sign of the cross as he drove on the expressway past the front of the San Juan Basilica Catholic Church. It was a motion that was second nature to him. After all, he had been raised in a strict Catholic home, and his mother had always insisted that Ray should cross himself as a sign of reverence and respect that was due to God, the Creator. But old traditions and rituals often clash with new habits and entertainment.

    No sooner had he finished uttering In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit when he punched his car stereo and blasted the quiet ambiance with the loud, obnoxious rhythm and lyrics of some angry young rapper spouting his hate loudly into the morning air.

    Ray banged the steering wheel loudly as he sang along and drove on, oblivious to the rest of the world around him. After all, life was good. He had just turned twenty-five and had found what he thought was his niche in life. His job as a reporter for the town’s daily newspaper, the Record, paid him just enough for him to maintain a carefree lifestyle that any up-and-coming young professional could ever want or need.

    When Ray drove into the Record’s parking lot, he headed toward the far end of the lot where he knew he could always find a parking space. It was a trait he had grown accustomed to ever since his freshman days at the university. Ray hated to haggle over parking spaces. The idea of cruising around the parking area until a space near the campus buildings became available seemed silly to him, especially since there always were plenty of spaces available at the far end of most lots on campus. So as was his usual practice, he parked at the far end and then strolled casually toward his work site entrance.

    As he entered the offices of the Record, a very visible neat sign with the paper’s motto greeted all visitors: To record the truth accurately—always. No one could miss this sign especially since it covered the upper third of the wall immediately at the entrance and was highlighted by some lights shining directly on it. It was a motto the Record took very seriously and prided itself in its quest to uphold such a lofty promise.

    Ray had been at the Record since September, and the six months he had worked there seemed to have all flown by so quickly. Perhaps it was because of the hectic work schedule that the job entailed, but Ray did not mind at all. It kept him busy, both mentally and physically. Always anxious and ready to jump on any potentially hot story, Ray would be up and running following any lead that just might get him a tip that would, in turn, lead to a breaking story. Perhaps it was just sheer luck, but he seemed to have that uncanny knack for being at the right place at the right time to corral that story that made for great interest.

    His get up and go approach to work had helped Ray uncover the story about two school board members on the take and which led to their subsequent resignations. He also broke a story about a city councilman using the city’s workers and equipment to renovate some business property he owned. This, too, led to the councilman’s resignation. But perhaps what Ray considered his best moment was when he exposed the city judge for having reneged on paying city taxes for the previous fifteen years. The amount owed was in the thousands, and when the story broke, the judge was campaigning in what was up to that point a close race with a hated rival.

    It was not that Ray hated the judge, but this particular judge was an extremely arrogant type who loved to lecture people on honoring their responsibilities and belittling them to no end. When he fell from grace, many of the townspeople were elated. Ray was lauded for his investigative work, but the truth was that he thought he was simply reporting on just another crooked politician. The story cost the judge the election, and Ray thought that was the end of that matter. However, this politician did not want to go quietly into the night and went so far as to confront Ray in the parking lot of the Record and threatened him with physical harm for his revelations.

    It had happened one week earlier, and the exchange was not a pleasant one. To say that the judge had been irked by Ray’s revelations would be an extreme understatement.

    You son of a bitch, who do you think you’re dealing with? I could have you fired, or worse, you could have an unfortunate accident, growled the judge.

    Ray was surprised by the judge’s brash verbal assault. But he did not back off. He responded in kind.

    What’s your problem? Who the hell do you think you’re talking to? I’m not one of your lapdogs. I’m a reporter doing my job. Maybe if you had paid your taxes like everyone else does, you would still be a judge!

    Unbeknownst to both Ray and the judge, Mr. Watson, the paper’s chief editor and Ray’s boss, was parked nearby and sitting inside his car’s driver’s seat with the windows down. Before the confrontation could escalate to anything physical, Mr. Watson called out loudly so that both Ray and the judge could clearly hear him, Now, Judge, nobody’s gonna get fired, and if I were you, I’d think twice about carrying out any threats against this young man. After all, he is one of my best reporters.

    Both Ray and the judge were caught off guard by Mr. Watson’s sudden appearance. Without saying another word, Mr. Watson stepped out of his car, closed the door, crossed his arms, and leaned back against his car, waiting to see what the judge would say or do.

    The flustered judge looked at Mr. Watson, took a deep breath, and then stormed away. Ray and Mr. Watson looked at each other. Ray nodded at him, and Mr. Watson gave him a half smile, got back in his car, and left. That was the end of that issue.

    The episode did, however, open up a friendlier kind of disposition between Ray and Mr. Watson. Even though the incident was never discussed between them, Ray felt that Mr. Watson had his back. He felt that he was a valued employee despite his status as a new reporter at the Record. Not that Mr. Watson was a softy or pushover by any means. He could get down and dirty with the best of them. He had paid his dues as a reporter and had earned his stripes. And as a boss, he commanded respect and demanded everyone’s best. Every once in a while, he would let out a roar to let everyone know who was king.

    As one of the newer guys at the Record, Ray’s office desk was in front of a cubicle in a high-traffic area. His desktop computer only partially blocked his view toward the front, and the other employees liked to sneak up behind him to chat over the walls of his cubicle.

    His fellow workers were all easygoing, and Ray had never had a problem with any of them. They had all welcomed him with open arms when he first arrived, and he never felt unwelcome in the quaint little offices of the Record.

    Ray put his briefcase down beside his chair as he sat down and proceeded to turn on his computer. No sooner had his computer screen come on when a familiar young lady’s voice broke the silence.

    Good morning, Ray.

    It was Paula, the easygoing coworker who had befriended Ray since the first day he had shown up for work. The beautiful, light-skinned brunette was a powerful bundle of energy who kept everyone at the office on their respective toes.

    I was beginning to think you weren’t gonna show up to work today. It’s already ten o’clock.

    Ray looked up and smiled at Paula. She was as cheerful as they come. With never a bad or angry thing to say to anyone or about anyone, Paula made life in the workplace less hectic.

    It’s nice to know someone at work missed me, but I am scheduled to work from 10:00 to 6:00 this week. I got my schedule cleared by Mr. Watson.

    What? You lucky dog! I would love to sleep late too. How’d you pull it off?

    I just asked, Paula. You make it seem as if it’s some big deal.

    It is a big deal. In all the time I’ve been working here, Mr. Watson has never okayed a schedule change for anyone.

    Paula, you’ve been working here for seven months, only one month more than me, remember?

    Yeah, I guess you’re right. She giggled, and Ray smiled. Yes, Paula was indeed a winner, and Ray really did appreciate her friendship. For a time, he had even dated her, but they had just recently decided to slow their relationship down, lest it mess up their chemistry at work. It was a tough decision for both of them to make since they had both fallen pretty hard for each other, but in a true professional manner of speaking, they knew it was best for both their personal and professional careers.

    Ray was about to ask Paula if she was available for a late lunch when Mr. Watson called out to one of the other staff members from within his office. His booming voice carried loudly and clearly throughout the rest of the work area.

    And close the door behind you, dammit! I cannot believe you wanted to turn in your story without double-checking for accuracy! The allegations you are making are very serious, and you have to, definitely really have to, double-check for accuracy. Do you want us to get sued for every last penny we have?

    Brenda Allen, a thirty-five-year-old reporter who had a knack for ruffling people’s feathers, had apparently gotten under Mr. Watson’s skin. Brenda did close the door behind her as she stepped out of Mr. Watson’s office, and she then scurried to get behind the sanctuary of her cubicle.

    What’s going on over there? asked Ray in a somewhat serious mood.

    Brenda was just turning in her latest story, but I guess she did not double-check her sources.

    That wasn’t too bright.

    "Yeah, Mr. Watson’s been extra vigilant ever since the New York Times got burned by shoddy reporting last month. They got raked through the coals on CNN. He swore it would never happen to our paper."

    Nothing personal, but Brenda has been acting like the queen of the…ahem…witches lately, and she’s gotten under lots of people’s nerves lately. Maybe Mr. Watson just wanted to send a message, you know, remind everyone about who’s really in charge here.

    It could be. He did get after Robert Baldwin before you got here today.

    You serious? I wish I’d been here to see that. Robert’s another major pain.

    Yeah, I guess it’s pick-on-the-losers day. I feel sorry for anyone he calls in.

    Ray smiled when Brenda uttered those words. Brenda and Robert definitely were a couple of know-it-all bullies at the office, so it was a good morale booster to have Mr. Watson call their names loudly across the office. Ray was about to say that perhaps Mr. Watson should call in Lucy Farinas, the office flirt, into his office when Mr. Watson opened the door to his office and stepped out onto the open office space. He looked straight at Ray and yelled out, Ray Martinez, get into my office, now!

    Ray’s blood froze as he felt everyone’s attention focus on him. He stood up slowly and, doing his best to keep his composure, managed to calmly answer, Yes, sir, I’m on my way.

    Paula gave Ray a quick I’ll see you later look and walked away from his desk. Ray, in turn, closed an open folder he had on his desk and walked toward Mr. Watson’s office.

    Ray entered the office, closed the door, and sat down facing Mr. Watson. Ray felt an uneasy sensation come over him. He just could not pinpoint anything that he had done wrong. He wondered whether Brenda or Robert had implicated him on any of their crazy schemes. They both had this habit of hatching up some little office project so that they could profit from it. They especially liked to collect $5 or $10 from everyone to occasionally buy a gift card and flowers for anything from a baby shower to a funeral. It was always done under the guise of keeping everyone in the office more close-knit and happy. Of course, everyone knew that it didn’t take $200 to buy a card and a basket of flowers, but no one said anything about the practice. Everyone grumbled, but not a single person complained. So Brenda and Robert both collected on this monthly donation. And it was always on payday Friday, coincidently, that they also happened to have their own social planning session at the local Hilton Inn’s bar. That they were an item was plain to see, but whether they had said anything about Ray to Mr. Watson remained to be seen. Ray knew he had done nothing wrong, and yet he would not put anything past Brenda or Robert. He sat waiting for Mr. Watson’s attention and reason for calling him in.

    Mr. Watson flipped a few papers from a manila folder and closed it. He looked at Ray, and his scruffy demeanor changed to one of a man with an easy calmness about him.

    Oh, Ray, Ray, Ray. Where do I begin?

    Begin about what, sir? Did I do something wrong?

    Of course not, son. Why would you think that?

    Well, you did kind of…ah…yell at me to get into your office.

    Mr. Watson smiled and answered, Nah, that was just an act to get you to hustle over here. Besides, I wouldn’t want the other workers to say that I’m playing favorites.

    So you didn’t call me in to chew me out, sir?

    What kind of editor would I be if I chewed out my best reporter?

    Mr. Watson’s response caught Ray by surprise, and he relaxed and felt any and all tension leave him.

    Did I hear you right? Did I hear you say ‘best reporter’?

    Don’t act so surprised, Ray. If you saw some of the crap, pardon my French, these so-called writers turn in, you’d understand where I’m coming from. I often stay here until past midnight practically rewriting the junk they turn in. The worse I’ve ever had to do with your work is an occasional misspelled word.

    So why am I here, sir?

    I’ve been going over everyone’s work, and quite frankly, I’m disappointed at the quality of stories we’ve been putting out. It’s bland, boring, and just doesn’t measure up to what good journalism is all about.

    Ahhh…sir, what exactly are we aiming for? I think our stories have been pretty good.

    Mr. Watson leaned forward toward Ray as if it would help him get his point across more forcefully.

    Look here, son. I’m fifty-five years old and have been in this business for about as long as you’ve been alive—twenty-five years to be exact. And let me tell you. It takes good reporting to keep this business thriving. Now so far, we’ve be been doing good, but I want to push it to the next level.

    Why? If our stories are good and sales are okay, why would you want to change?

    We can’t get complacent. We need to keep moving. And that’s why you’re here. In all my years in this business, I have never had such a young reporter master the trade as quickly as you have! You’ve been here six months, but the quality of your work is equivalent to that of a twelve-year veteran. You have great potential in this business.

    Mr. Watson’s words caught Ray totally by surprise. He had always felt comfortable with his work, but he never would have guessed

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