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home > books-media > short stories > the messenger

 

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The Messenger

 

            Fine.  I’ll go and get the goddamn milk.  I grabbed my keys, phone, wallet and walked outside.  I unlocked my car, got in, and drove to 7-11.  Thankfully, it was empty.  Inside, I checked the date on the half gallon of milk, paid for it, and got back in the car.  I was mad about having to go to the store at 9:30 at night.  I took it out on my car.  I was flying down the road.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my wife, but sometimes things need to be done at the right time.  I thought about it, realizing that I screw up all the time and I should cut her some slack.  I smiled, thinking how I was going to apologize to her, when I heard and felt ‘thadump, dadump’.  I pulled over immediately, worried that I ran over an animal. 

No worries, it was a person.  Lying on the street, about fifty feet behind where I stopped.  Shit.  I didn’t see anything.  The road was clear one moment and now this.  I ran quickly over to the prone body, first to get him or her out oncoming traffic, then to see if they were still alive.  My hand reached for my phone to call for help, but first, get them off the street.  I knew it might be dangerous to move them, but it was more dangerous leaving them where they were.

I got to the body and saw that it was a man.  A thought occurred to me; that I might be the victim of a scam.  I hesitated momentarily, observing the man closely.  There was no sign of breathing, blood along the left side of his black hair and dirty face.  His left arm did not look normal.  It was bent in an unnatural way.  This guy was hurt.  Headlights from an oncoming car, made me look up.  I waved them off, which, thankfully, they heeded, and bent down to pull him out of the way.

He wasn’t there. I couldn’t believe my eyes.  I looked around quickly.  He was nowhere to be seen.  My head cocked to one side, like a dog hearing a funny sound.  Great, now I’m losing my mind.  I looked around again, unwilling to accept that my eyes were lying to me.  There was someone by my car, waving at me.  Fantastic, steal my car.  It occurred to me that this was the best scam I had ever witnessed.  He made it look good.  I took a deep breath and walked calmly to my car.  He didn’t move.  Oh, so now we’re going to rob me before we steal my car.  I was well trained and ready for just about anything this guy was going to throw my way, barring a pistol at five paces.  And I was angry.  That means I get quiet, very quiet. 

“Hi”.  Friendly as a neighbor.  “Sorry to have scared you.  I needed to make sure that you were the right person”.  A pleasant voice, accompanied by pleasant eyes.  I became very wary; ‘the right person’?  I was standing about three feet from this asshole, and I was prepared to put him in the same hospital that I was about to call.

“Oh, come now, you don’t want to hurt me.  I don’t mean you any harm.  Really, Richard.  Now, no worries, I understand your suspicion, but I can explain”.

I wasn’t interested.  I don’t play games and this was boring me.  I made to move around him to get in the car, when I realized he had said my name.  “How do you know me”?

“Oh, I’ve had my eye on you for a few days now.  I have to scope out our prospects, make sure they have the right stuff and all of that”.

The right stuff, the right person?   “What are you talking about”?

“Well, for starters, you have to have a big heart; a good heart.  A willingness to sacrifice yourself for the safety of others.  Intelligence is big with us too.  Of course, it pays to have been born in the right place.  Well, I suppose we have a long time to talk.  I can explain everything as we go”.

“Us?  Go?  Listen, I’m out of here.  My wife is waiting for milk, you’re okay, I think, and I’m tired.  See ya, have a nice life”.

“Okay.  See ya”.  He moved out of my way.

I got into my car and closed the door.  His hands came down on top of my window and he peered in at me.  “You know, you might want to stay here”.

“Why would I want to do that”?  I tried hard to maintain a modicum of courtesy.

“No one’s going to see you.  No one can see you”.

“What does that mean”?

He looked around to the left and to the right.  Then he focused his eyes on me.  The depth of their blackness shocked me.  “No more games.  There isn’t time.  The armies of the fallen are upon us and we need you, Zachary.  We need you now”.

“My name is not Zachary, first of all.  Secondly, armies of the fallen?  What the hell are you talking about”?

A crazed look came into the man’s eyes.  I noticed the length of his hair, and the fact that his once dirty face was immaculate.  “Enough.  This charade of yours is over, Zachary.  We need you.  God needs you”.  He grabbed hold of my left shoulder and arm, and unbelievably, yanked me right out of my car seat into the street.  Landing flush on my feet, I looked back at him.  From the corner of my eye I saw a car coming fast.  Pushing hard, I must have leapt ten feet straight up and landed next to my long-haired assailant.  The car went whizzing by and I grabbed him by the throat.  “Prepare to die, scumbag”.  My voice was intense, quiet, gravelly. 

“Zachary, if you were human, could you have done this.  Do you think anyone but you or God could hold me like this against my will.  Zachary, remember, please remember, remember who you are, who I am.  Please”.  He was crying, crying tears of blue.  I reached out with my other hand and touched one with my index fingertip.  It glistened in the light of the streetlamps, looking like a diamond on the tip.  Looking within, I could see the armies gathering, winged steeds and winged soldiers.  Weapons of sharpened death lain across laps and pointed to the opposition.  The battlefield brown and green, depths unseen, endless sky streaked red with impending death and remnant anger.

My head, which had leaned in closer to look, backed off from the imagery.  I went to wipe my finger, but he took hold of my hand and put my fingertip in my mouth.  The taste was such that could never be adequately described.  The sweetest water from the ripest maple coupled with the creamiest vanilla ice cream is the best I can do.  He held on to me until I swallowed.  I let him.  My eyes closed with the tightness in my throat.  It felt like I had tried to ingest a stone.  When I opened my eyes, I saw Gabriel.

“Gabriel”.

“Thank you God.  You’ve always helped me when it was darkest”.  He took his eyes from the sky and looked at me.  “Finally.  So how was your little trip through humanity?  Had enough?”

“What am I doing here.  Where is Michael?  The coming.  The coming of the Third.  Gabriel.  Tell me.  What has happened”?

“Slowly, old friend.  Michael is fine.  He awaits our return, preparing the Holy Armies for the battle ahead.  We still have time, but we need your expertise.  We have only limited knowledge of the fallen’s ways.  You know more than any”.

He said this to me because, once, I was Lucifer’s friend, the one he could speak freely with given any circumstance.  It was only through our Lord’s will that I was not one of the fallen at the time of expulsion.  He saw the truth and spared me the ultimate punishment.  Lucifer looked back at me with the betrayal of ages, vehemence and scorn in his eyes as he promised God and myself the punishment of our prized creation and protectorate.  That he would show us the folly of our dedications and our loyalties.  That we would rue the day we cast him and his out.  His heavily muscled body thrown over, his wings opening to guide his descent, he screamed his anger and his vow, punishing the firmament with its fury.  Many of his fallen died in the expulsion.  Over the millenniums, he has rebuilt, testing us, pushing limits, scorning his creator, punishing man, showing them the sins of their God.  And now, the ultimate test awaits.  The coming of the Third, the unholy union of Lucifer and his spirit.  The third, the scourge of this holy earth, our holy kingdom.  The horns of the beast rear their ugly faces as the steeds of his messengers race the corners of the kingdom to greet their savior.  We must stop them, him, all of them.  Our Lord commands it, and we are the instruments of his will, here and in the kingdom of Heaven.

I looked at Gabriel.  “How have I come to be here.  A wife, children, a home.  How in God’s name, Gabriel, did this happen”?

“You had fallen, dear friend.  You felt the terrible weight of betrayal and announced that you would be subject to the will of fate, as every other human will be judged.  That you felt the inexorable pain of having pushed your old friend and that you bear the sin of the casting.  That you should be judged as he would be, that you would be the victim of the carnage that followed.  This, you deserved, and declared so vehemently.  We spoke at length with you, but your mind was made and you proceeded regardless of any objection.  You said that you had no right to plan against a friend, or to kill one.  That you had already done enough and that humanity would show you humility.  That humility would purge your sins.  That purging your sins would allow you to expire a holy man.  And so you have come here, and have been here for centuries”.

I remembered casting myself off the edge of our land.  Falling endlessly to the earth below.  The roar of the oceans and the song of the angels blending with the cries of sorrow from above.  The resounding crash of my heavy body into the green of this land.  Awake, I found myself bloody and aching.  The hunger of the just born child clawing at my insides.  My previous life becoming distant as I was not blessed to remember who I was, from where I had come, from whom I was born.  I have drifted for ages, have witnessed the great scourges of these people and have always wondered why I live while those behind me have aged and died.  Now, the single blue tear of an old friend has awoken me of a great slumber and I cry with the lost time, the need of our Lord, with the tears of a titan worried about the billions of souls about to be judged.  I stared at my friend.

“Gabriel, we must go”.

“This I know.  I also know that you must regain your old form.  That you may gain entrance to the land.  That you gain acceptance of his gaze and his voice”.  He handed me a flask.  “The tears of our sisters and our brothers.  Drink my friend.  Drink of our sorrow that we may rejoice in your coming”.

I tilted the flask back and thought of my wife, my children.  They love me and I them.  My children, those of my blood.  My god, the struggle within caused me to heave as I drank.

Gabriel laid hands upon me as I finished the contents.  “Do not worry, brother.  They shall remember you well.  They shall know who you are.  They shall know what you have done for them and everyone about them.  We shall tell them in dreams and visit them to warm their hearts and rejuvenate their souls.  Always shall we look upon the children of Zachary as our own”.

“It is his will and we are his messengers.  Let us begin”, I said to Gabriel as much as to myself. 

“Nay, good friend.  You must see them before you leave.  You must touch them and hold them.  You must ease your heart and clear your mind before we begin”.  He led me back to my car and got into the passenger side.  I felt somewhat silly.

“It seems odd, driving”.

“A relief on my wings, Zachary.  Besides, it makes no sense to leave the car”.

I drove to my house.  Gabriel stayed outside while I went in to see my family for the last time.  As I crossed the threshold of my home, I became transparent, the milk carton falling to the carpeted floor.  I glided upstairs into my children’s bedroom.  My wife was in bed reading.  I settled next to my oldest daughter’s side and touched her gently across the brow while she slept.  She smiled and softly said, “Da”.  My fingers went past her skin so that I could touch her mind.  I showed her who I was and that I loved her.  Her body shook with tears as I withdrew my hand.  She reached for me and I let her touch me.  She opened her blue eyes and smiled at me again.  A tear of my own fell down my cheek.  I touched it and fed it to her.  With this, she giggled, reaching up for me.  I hugged her and said out loud I loved her.  She held on tight and then sat back down, grabbing her teddy and nook.  She simply looked at me.  She knew I was leaving.  My head reared with the pain of a father who was never to see his child again.  I never took my eyes off of her as I went to my younger.  I did the same to her, though she was too young to react.  I showed her and she knew and that was enough.  I turned to leave, looking at my eldest one more time.  She was more stoic than I.  I loved them both so much.  My wife was at the door of their bedroom, watching me.

“Is it time”?

I looked at her oddly.  “What did you say”?

“I see it.  The change.  I’ve always known there was something about you.  I could never quite put my finger on it.  Now I see it.  You’re glowing.  And you’re not quite here.  What are you, Richard.  What in god’s name are you”?

“Funny that you should put it that way.  In time you will understand.  For now, trust that I love you and our children.  Trust that I must go.  Trust that one day I may return.  And trust that you will know the entire truth”.

“May I touch you”?

I nodded yes.  She came forward and laid hands of her own upon me.  Her hands fell inside of me and she sighed with the power of who made me.  She saw glimpses of the past and the future, things she should not have seen.  I allowed her to linger as the visions became more powerful, clearer.  She began to moan as if in ecstasy.  It was too much for her sensibilities.  I touched her arms and moved them away from me.  Her head down, she said, “Go, Richard.  Be who you are and come to us when you can.  Always will I wait for the one I love”.

I blessed this angel of a woman with the breath of God and the visions of his son.  “I love you, dearest woman.  Of this there can be no closer truth”.  Her eyes closed with the beauty of the images and the blessing of my brothers and sisters.  Her hands lingered in my space as I left in a whisper and gathered Gabriel.

“Let us fly brother, so that I may once again feel the weight of my father’s hand upon my head”.

It was good to fly again.

 

***

Please email your comments to Richard F. Sayage

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