Child of the Clouds
By
Diane Marie Taylor
This book is dedicated to the people of the future
This
is a work of fiction. The characters are completely made up and in no way are
meant to resemble actual people.
“No one could sing this hymn except the hundred and forty four thousand who had been ransomed from the earth.” Rev. 14:3
“…and
these are the ones who follow the Lamb wherever he goes.” Rev. 14:4
Angels in the
clouds
Bent half way over the edge of the cloud, the wind billowing her shear sleeves like balloons, her hands red and fingernails turning blue from her tight grip on the railing, Ariala hung in the air, almost upside down, her eyes wide awake with shock. She could see Serapha through the green leaves of the tree. Serapha and a young man were kissing and rolling in the grass. The image of what she was viewing far below, burst from her mind in a tight, personal mind-thought-wave sent directly into the minds her two closest friends, Riala and Chaella, a method of communication common among the angels; but usually of less shocking import.
The explosive force of the emotional image sent into Chaella’s mind, jerked her wide awake at the viewing station where she had been nodding off. The same image sent to Riala caused her to jerk her hand away from a sharp needle she was using in the biological laboratory.
“Serapha is coupling with a human boy.” The string of words Ariala sent to each of them was unnecessary; the image she’d sent spoke for itself. They saw in stark images Serapha, her long white hair rolling with her body, her mouth seeming glued to a dark headed young man down on earth. Their lovemaking was almost blocked by the budding green leaves of a huge maple tree, but not quite.
“You mean s…sex?” Chaella, the youngest of the three, fully awake now, sent to Ariala. Her own shock evident in the message, “Be right there.”
Riala had jolted at the image, but being the most level-headed of the trio, she sent, “You must be wrong. Serapha would never betray us, or put people on earth in such danger.” She put the needle away, set the tube in the completed rack, then sit back for a moment to think. Strange behavior. Something bad would come of it, she was sure, then laughed at herself. Worry is usually what Chaella does, not me.
She sent back, “Something must have happened to Serapha.”
“Yes, because they are still kissing, right now.”
Within seconds, and with a quick, quiet displacement of air, so her movement would not distract the other angels at work on their projects, Riala popped out of the laboratory and then popped into being next to Ariala and Chaella at the railing. They were both hanging over the railing at the edge of the cloud. The blowing wind made streamers of Chaella’s long, white hair and Ariala’s dark, curly hair tangling it behind them. That same gusty wind twisted and whipped Riala’s long, blond hair into her face. She ran her fingers through it as the wind caught it up and sent it billowing behind her as she too bent over the railing to watch. Three pair of eyes glued to the scene below.
The view miles below seemed to jump up in front of her as she joined minds with her friends. Focusing as a single mental group, their three minds yearning, desperate to see events below, the magnification suddenly increased ten fold. Now they watched a vivid, crystal clear, real-life Serapha and young man, laying on the grass, with arms around each other, half hidden beneath the tree leaves, kiss. They saw Sara’s long, straight white hair, the same color as her sister Chaella’s, spread out upon his darker skin like sea foam, move and flow with each heavy breath, each kiss, each wave of new passion.
Hanging with her sister angels over the cloud’s edge, Riala focused on the love making below with alarm, plus a touch of embarrassment. This new type of close, group focus they were using was definitely a more immediate and embarrassing view than they were used to seeing, not like at their view stations. Actually, they had never tried such an intense group focus before. Mostly because we’d never had a reason to try, she thought with a smirk. Well, it certainly is interesting, interesting enough to ignore the railing that bit into the flesh of her hands.
She noticed that the mouth of both her friends, Chaella with her tiny, cute face, and Ariala with her small nose and full lips, were hanging open as they watched the event below, and so was her own. She closed her own mouth quickly. It was said that her own mouth and nose was small compared to her large, dark eyes, but just now, she’d felt embarrassed to have shown such infantile emotion. To make up for it, she sent a flash of red light and a loud bell sound into both her friend’s mind’s to wake them up, and stop their sinking into Serapha’s passion. They blinked awake.
“Your empathy was overflowing.” Riala laughed, but said nothing about her own.
They smiled and continued to watch for a long while, but with their own passions now in check.
Sara and Johnny under a tree
Just moments ago, Sara had felt pleased to sit with Johnny on the grass with the trees newly in bloom. The leaves were just now filling out and turning green. Although she had never lived spring before, only watched it happen from the monitor in the clouds, she knew that these same leaves would turn crimson and bright yellow then fall off the trees come autumn season. How wonderful she felt to sit beneath an actual tree and watch it bloom. Added to that, she was sitting next to Johnny, the young man she’d befriended, and came to care about deeply. She worried about him often. He should have been happy, sitting beneath such a beautiful tree, but instead, sad vibes flew out of him like arrows that hit at her heart. His family was gone, his father just recently, and he felt very alone. She couldn’t help leaning against him, she couldn’t help wanting to hold him, to take away his pain, to make him joyful, somehow. She looked at his sad face, the dark circles under his eyes and her love for him swelled. His personal feelings of loss hurt her own soul so deeply she wanted to cry.
He broke into her reverie, “You are very quiet.”
“Yes, I love watching the trees grow. Life is so beautiful, don’t you think?”
“Oh, yes, now that I have found you.”
“Johnny, I told you. I am off limits. We can never be.”
“I refuse to believe that. You aren’t married. What other reason could there be?”
“Please let’s just enjoy this delightful day. I see ten different colors of green, don’t you?”
“No, there aren’t that many greens in the whole world. I dare you to name them. If you can’t, I get a wish.”
Sara laughed, “Let’s see. Emerald. Light green. Jade. Lime.”
Hey, that’s only four.” Johnny laughed and gave her a teasing shove. “You missed a few greens.”
Laughing in turn, Sara said, “Pea green. Ah, ah, light green, dark green.”
“Better hurry. You owe me a kiss if you can’t come up with ten.”
This was delightful. Johnny was so into the game that his sadness floated away on the wind; only exuberant joy surrounded him as they played.
“Wait. I got seven different greens. You think of some.”
“No. I want you to loose.”
“Oh, that’s horrible.” Sara said with a mock-angry voice, but her eyes shinned with her own happiness. She could feel Johnny’s sudden joy wrap around her. She could feel his want. Her own want.
She watched as he put his hand on her arm, his rough knuckles and strong veins against her own delicate bones. She turned to face him and suddenly, they were no longer playing but holding each other as if their next breath depended on their next embrace, their different worlds yearning to touch as they lay in the deep emerald grass. Oh, I want to make him happy forever.
It wasn’t long before a great and heavy passion took over Sara’s will to stay apart, with the consequence that life could only be lived together now, as two made one. Sara’s will fell apart because of love and earthly inexperience and Johnny’s because of his craving to belong. Entwined together, finally, they became as one, and gave what they could to each other. Their lovemaking was deep, passionate and joyful.
Finally, Sara and her dark friend lay still, their arms and legs entwined with each other, beneath the thin, plaid blanket under the green leaved tree, asleep, each in their own dream.
Sara’s friends ask Michael
When the three angel friends finally stepped back from the railing at the edge of the cloud, their thoughts were filled with sorrow and worry. Each of them felt dismay at the huge sin their sister Serapha had committed. Would she be doomed to stay on earth forever? What would happen now? Chaella and Ariala both looked towards Riala for answers, but Riala had no answers, not this time.
After long training, many angels were assigned to the earth below for a specific purpose, to help a person in distress, prevent a tragedy, or whisper advice, not to love or get entangled with a human. Angels could go down to earth in two ways, as a spirit to give quick help, or as a person who actually lived among humans, which required rigorous training and good acting skills. All angels trained for it, but not everyone went down to earth. Because Sara had been so bright and knowledgeable, her teacher must have assumed she could handle the conflicts and temptations of earth. At this time of war, the angels needed more angels for simple assignments on earth because the most mature and experienced angels were busy in Europe, which left the less experienced angels to do all the other work. Serapha, earth name, Sara, had been entrusted with an assignment on earth, because of her suburb acting talent and quick mind, but she had now misused that trust.
Riala knew that Sara was familiar with the warning, they all were, even those who might never go earth-side. They all knew that if an angel got deeply involved with a specific human, something disastrous could happen, and usually did happen. No one deliberately caused such a disaster, certainly God didn’t force events to turn bad; yet, for some reason, disaster usually followed such a love match. When an angel interfered too deeply in certain earthly events, their actions seemed to change the fate of the universe. Even worse, people directly involved with the wayward angel were often caught up in the disaster too.
Serious love between angels and mankind was forbidden as a measure of protection against just such disasters, and all the angels knew the rule: Do what you can to help a person, but never get deeply involved with a single human.
All three of the angels felt embarrassment for their friend Serapha, who had forgotten to be embarrassed for herself, by kissing a boy beneath the tree. Worse, Sara certainly knew that they might watch. All they had to do was look down. Did she think they wouldn’t look? Was she mocking them? Humans didn’t know that angels were watching—but Sara was an angel, she knew.
“Doesn’t she care? Has something destroyed her mind? Did she bump her head?” Chaella cried out to her friends and began to sob with her white hair splayed over her petit face and small hands. She was the youngest and always seemed to take everything hard, especially this because Serapha was her sister and had hurt her heart.
Riala whispered her next words quietly into the ice tinged air of the open sky, “I don’t think Sara is mocking us. I don’t think Sara cares if all of heaven is watching. Sara is in love!”
As time moved along in their habitat in the clouds, set a few moments into the future to keep it hidden, from earth below, the three friends would often gather together at the railing to watch the interesting events that now surrounded their fallen friend Sara. Sara had given up her angelhood to stay with the young man who she loved on earth. They both seemed happy and content. He seemed to love her as much as Sara loved him. Yet they knew, her friends in the cloud and also Sara that the pair’s love and happiness might be short lived. Even though they watched events concerning Sara from above, her three friends dared not speak their worst fear to other angels or even to one another. Each of them waited for the disaster that was sure to follow.
The other angels living in the containment with them, about twenty-five in the habitat at any given time, with so many coming and going because of the war, shrugged or looked horrified when they learned what Serapha had done, but then paid it slight attention because they were too busy to concern themselves with the sin of a single angel. The heavy, ugly war now raging down on earth was everyone’s main concern. It was their job to put as many obstacles in front of the German army as they could or to lesson the war’s horrible effects on the people.
All the angels were afraid of their own past, a past they were determined to prevent, a horrible future for earth that most definitely would occur without their continued intervention. Long ago, the few who survived The Horrors, and after Jesus rescue, learned how to travel in time. They decided to send groups back to earth to prevent it from happening. They knew that the people on earth would invent atomic bombs during this war, and decide to use them, nation to nation. They knew the horrors that Hitler would commit in the name of Nazi Germany, and what he would do, had done, with the atomic bombs. Yet, they could not just fix things, could not force direct change on any human. Such an act would violate God’s rule of self determination, but the angels didn’t go down to earth empty handed; they did have a few good tools to use, among them were persuasion and illusion.
Angels who stayed above in the cloud habitat had their own jobs to do. They watched for any danger where they might intervene. Sometimes, angels could step down to earth in spirit form to whisper a warning into a human ear, to tell a soldier to move to the other side of a field, to warn about incoming fire, to try to persuade good people to hide a Jewish family, or just to give encouragement where they could. Sometimes, not much, but something.
A few of the younger angels had classes where they learned about earth and its dangers. Riala, Ariala and Chaella were among these few. They too were busy but could usually find time to watch Sara and worry about her. When the worries threatened to overwhelm the three of them, Riala decided she needed to seek help.
As soon as she learned that Michael had finally taken a short break from the war and was back in the habitat for a short stay, Riala, even knowing how busy he would be, held her breath and said a prayer of hope, then requested an audience.
He agreed to meet with the three of them. Riala stood in front of the group when they met because Ariala and Chaella were too awed by Michael’s aura and stature. His wisdom and many exploits down on earth had become legend and this made them feel shy.
When they explained about Sara, he looked sad and shook his head. “I am afraid it is too late to do anything to change the roll of events.” When he looked at their sad faces, he added, “It is too late for me to attempt to get her back. You must know this?”
They did, he could see it on all three of their faces.
Ariala conquered her awe enough to ask Michael a question, “Did Serapha lose God too?”
As soon as she spoke the words, they horrified her so badly, she could hardly contain her emotions. When Chaella began to quietly cry, she felt even worse.
Michael saw their sadness and tried to assure them by saying, “Serapha lost her living connection to the mind of God, but still has the spark of God inside her.”
“Yes,” Riala said excitedly, “How could it be otherwise? All life has at least a small spark of God, else they wouldn’t be alive?”
Michael added, “Riala, why don’t you help the others look into the history archives. Perhaps they should see the results themselves of what can happen. Then, if you still don’t understand, come back and I will answer more questions. We keep good track of our own and the records tell what happened to the other angels who chose to stay on earth.”
Riala nodded just before they popped themselves out of the Michael’s office, but they all knew the stories, they didn’t really need to look them up. As they gathered together, she repeated the most famous stories:
Within the last two
hundred years, Aaron fell in love with a Scandinavian princess and their whole
city was crushed under an avalanche. In colonial
They’d all been told, over and over, not only that Earth is an unsafe place for angels, but that angels could be a danger to earth. This was why, before each angel was assigned to an earth mission, each angel was given long training and a strict warning of the hazards.
The most experienced angels lectured in every class about the pull earth people could have on their hearts and minds, on the danger of material possession and how it could grow into an obsession, and they repeated the warning, over and over, about the most dangerous pull of all, emotional love, a love so different than the kind of adoring love they were used to, a love so strong, it could tempt even the highest, holy angels.
As their teacher explained, the reason that earth love was so dangerous to angels was because it was their nature to love all the time; a human in need of love, which was most often the case, set up a challenge for any angel because of their own empathy, their need to fill up that empty heart. Another pull was the knowledge that the people on earth were the angel’s long ago ancestors; it was natural to want to prevent pain. Alas, they all knew the danger.
This knowledge quieted their worry down to a manageable level, but not Chaella’s. She cried often for the loss of her sister; even so, she gathered with her other two friends, once or twice, away from the viewing stations, so they could watch together, with a more powerful and vivid focus, the events occurring in Sara’s new life on earth. It was their job, after all, to watch humans and report ongoing events. So why not watch their fallen friend, Sara?
Chapter
2
Sara, formally Serapha the angel, but now an ordinary person with an
unwieldy, big pregnant belly was sitting in a chair, relaxing with a morning
cup of tea, remembering back to her quiet wedding in the small chapel, a few
streets away from the
The United States had joined the war a year before, which meant that her Johnny would be drafted into the army when he turned eighteen next year, a month before the baby was due, which caused her great worry. Better to push the thought away. Instead, she wondered if she should go out and buy him the ear muffs for a Christmas present. She loved shopping in earth stores for things, especially baby cloths, but she even liked shopping for meat and potatoes for dinner. She didn't eat meat, but still cooked it for Johnny. He worked hard in the factory and was always hungry when he came home from work.
The thought that he might be drafted before the baby was born popped
back into her mind. Surly, the army
could wait a little while? Maybe
not. The newspapers reported that the
She laughed to herself as she remembered how much he liked to feel the
baby kick inside her stomach, merely a twitter of a kick right now. Just then
she felt a tiny kick. Ah, is my little darling Mary or John listening to my
thoughts? Every evening, they played a
name game, he picked odd, silly boy names like
A sudden thought came to her, as she sat in the chair thinking, maybe her angel friends knew if her baby was a boy or a girl. Maybe not Riala or Ariala, but Michael would know; he knew everything. It didn't matter. Anyway Sara didn’t want to think about angels or family, but oh, what must Michael think of me?
Does he hate me now? Surly, it hadn’t been so big a crime? She and Johnny’s love felt so huge and strong, big enough, it seemed, to hold the world together.
She knew that disasters killed many angels who chose to stay on earth, but how could one angel with a big belly make such a change that it could bring on disaster? She shuddered with fear at the thought. “No, she screamed out loud. “No. Stop thinking such horrible thoughts.”
Sara heard a voice from the stairs. “Who you talking to dear? Do you want me to come back later?”
Mrs. Abernathy was on the stair landing talking through the door.
“Oh, no one. Please come in.” Sara felt pleased; she needed a distraction.
Mrs. Abernathy, floppy skinned from loosing too much weight in the hospital, today wore a deep blue dress almost hidden beneath a flowered apron, opened the door and stepped in.
“I brought you some coffee cake, two pieces, one for you and one for your baby.”
Sara laughed. “Oh, thank you. Sit down and I'll put the tea kettle on. You should have brought a piece for yourself. I know I’ll eat both mine and the baby’s.”
They both laughed as Sara turned the gas beneath the kettle and got a cup for Mrs. Abernathy. “Thank you for visiting today. I needed the company.”
Mrs. Abernathy stayed for a couple of hours, by the time she left, Sara felt ready for a nap and then she could fix dinner and Johnny would come home from work and Sara felt truly happy again with her life.
Later, after she woke up from her nap and began peeling the potatoes for dinner, Sara’s mind drifted off once more to thoughts about her friends in the sky. She hadn’t tried to contact them and, in truth, didn’t know if she was still capable of doing so. Shame turned her face hot as she thought about her best friend Riala and how betrayed she must feel and her little sister Chaella. Each time she tried to push the thought of her angel friends away, it came back like a boomerang. Why am I obsessing so much today? I love Johnny. We truly love each other. We are madly in love. We are so happy. She kept up this litany as she put the potatoes in a pot to cook on the stove.
She understood that the worry was based on emotions that went along with her pregnancy; yet, she couldn’t help the thoughts that seeped in on some days, and this was one of them. Even with the love between her and Johnny, she still had had some regrets. Her greatest of those was the absence of God’s continual, ever loving, presence, that nodule of God-self that had sat inside her mind during her whole existence, until now. With the God presence missing, her mind felt like it held a gaping hole, a hole heavy with emptiness, a hole that could never filled again.
She’d forgotten about God in the heat of passion with Johnny, forgot everything, forgot who she was, forgot she belonged in the clouds, and forgot it would set her apart. Now she was grounded forever. A sudden fear gripped her heart, but she slammed the door on the warning.
Shutting out fear was almost as hard as letting it in, but she kept slamming the door. To prevent herself from crying, Sara forced a smile on her face as she got up to get the small roast out of the oven, a special treat today. He would be hungry when he got home from the machine shop where they manufactured screws, nuts and bolts for war planes. If he didn’t get drafted, he’d have a job for many years because all the war planes needed screws to hold them together.
The image of an air plane flying in the clouds made her smile, but saddened her again as she felt a pang of remorse for her lost ability. Angels didn’t actually fly; they used their minds to move faster than the wind. This had been her first assignment on earth and she’d been so inexperienced, she needed one of the other angels to carry her down. Her assignment had been minor and was meant to be done quickly so she could go back up to join the other angels.
Maybe it was a test too? Well, if it was, I failed horribly. At least, I completed the assignment before I met Johnny. I didn’t neglect my job. Maybe God will forgive me? I think he will, but will fate? Goose bumps rose on her arms. She felt her baby jump in her womb. Oh, but I am so happy. So very happy. I can’t worry now. I hope it is a boy, just like Johnny wants, but I refuse to call him Hortense. This made her laugh and step far away from her fears.
Angel friends watch Sara on earth
Sara’s three friends often stole moments while at their viewing
stations to watch Sara’s life unfold down on earth, but this day they had
arraigned to meet at the railing amid the clouds so they could focus in as a
group, which gave them a more vivid, close-to-the-action view. Curiosity not only
filled their minds this day, but showed on each of their faces. Maybe Sara
would practice changing a diaper again today while they watched. During the
last daylight, Sara had bought a doll to practice on. Through the long months,
each of them had keep tabs on Sara, sometimes with a touch of wistful thinking,
but mostly with love for their friend and sister. They watched as Sara shopped
for groceries, learned how to cook, burned her hand on a frying pan, bought a
big shirt to hide her growing belly, washed dishes, swept the apartment and
went for walks to the library and store. Yesterday, from their monitors, they
each watched Sara shop in the infant department of a Kresege Five and Dime
Store on
Sometimes the small chores they did for the angels who came and went
between war assignments kept them to busy to find extra time in to watch Sara
together, as a group. They didn’t mind. Sara’s earthly problems were small
compared to this huge war between
Riala realized she was lucky to be considered too young to participate in the war directly. She smiled at the description of herself as young. Angels were not young compared to earth standards. If her true ‘years’ were counted on earth, she’d be considered very mature. No matter, Riala didn’t expect to earn her way down to earth for two more years, at least, and after Sara’s fall, maybe it would take even longer. The four of them, close friends always, had begged to accompany this group of angels on their trips through time, even though they’d be stuck here for a long while, earth time. It would be a long time before the next replacement group came to earth because it wasn’t easy to transfer through time. Back then, the whole idea had seemed like the greatest adventure ever. Now the result wasn’t too good for Sara because no one knew what would happen next. Their concern for Sara was genuine, they’d know her all their lives and loved and missed her deeply.
Riala twisted her hair when she was nervous, like right now. Ariala was nervous too because she kept hitting her hand on the railing. Rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat. It didn’t bother her friends; they were used to her nervous energy. Chaella sat on the rim of the cloud, her tiny heart shaped face with its big blue eyes beneath white hair was startlingly beautiful, but less so today because she was wearing a deep frown.
They were
also used to Chaella’s frowns and worries.
Riala smiled though the cold winter wind that stirred up her hair and
blew her gown in disarray. Better to
ignore the wind’s bite for a few minutes more so they could take a good, close
look at Sara.
Riala sent her thought to the others, “I
tried to speak with Sara a short time ago.
I know it is hard to push mind speech through the thick, dusty, bad air
of earth, but I tried anyway, and kept trying.
I think I might have made contact once, but she tuned me out, fast. It felt like she’d slammed a door in my
face.”
Ariala smiled at Riala’s phrase, “Slammed a door in my face.” She had read that same earth novel and knew Riala felt a little pleased with herself for using a cliché from earth.
“Do you think Sara lost her ability to speak to us?” Both Ariala and Chaella asked her, the flying wind throwing their spoken words back into their faces.
“She can’t ever come back?” Ariala asked.
“And she can’t fly?” cried Chaella.
Riala, the oldest of the three, and the one they often looked to for answers, held silent. She didn’t know how to answer. The three of them had decided not to bring up the subject of Sara during the last community gathering that was called to discuss the war. Not one of them could say exactly why, but they’d each kept silent about their friend Sara, perhaps because they were afraid to know more.
This day, together they zoomed in on Sara inside her apartment. It wasn’t easy to look inside a home and under a roof, but with the proper mind set or monitor coordinates, they could do it. This time they quickly saw that their gathering hadn’t been worth the trouble. Sara was lying on her bed, huge belly popping out of the blue shirt she wore, snoring soundly.
“Nothing is going on.” Chaella sent. “Why does she sleep so much?”
“It is good for her,” Riala sent with her mind. “Pregnant women need a lot of sleep.”
“What do you think the baby will look like,” Chaella asked.
“Hard to tell. The father is dark, but
Sara’s skin is cream colored like ours.
The baby will probably look like both of them.”
“That’s one thing I like about earth. The
people have different colored skins. Why don’t we angels?”
“Why don’t we what?” Riala asked.
“Have different colored skin like they do?
They are our ancestors, aren’t they?”
“I am not sure why our skin is all the same shade.” Riala looked down at her skin. “Sort of ugly white, isn’t it.”
“I think it is more like coffee cream. But why?” Ariala asked.
“Because of The Horrors, I think. People were forced to live
underground for a long time until Jesus rescued us. I guess People intermixed
so much we all blended together.”
“Is that true?”
“I don’t know. I think so. Remember this
current earth is vary far back in our history and things change with time.”
“I think you are right. Still, we kept
different colors of hair and eyes. That’s something.”
Chaella was
quiet for a minute then asked, “We don’t
have any color here in the cloud either. We all wear white. Why?”
This time Angela decided to answer. She’d
just learned why in class. “Because it was very difficult building the time
cloud. The builders needed to keep it super clean;, they couldn’t allow even a
speck of dust or lint or anything to enter the mechanics. So everything needed
to be kept white-clean.”
“But why is it still white? That
was a long time ago?”
“I don’t know. Just because.” Angela started tapping her fingers because she couldn’t answer Chaella.
Riala smiled, “I am not sure, but I think the whiteness of the habitat helps angels feel at peace after they come back from earth. Takes away their stress.”
“Sounds right.” Chaella said, then
added, “I can’t wait to see the baby.
Will it have blue eyes like Sara?”
“Silly, all babies are born with blue eyes.” Riala told them just before they parted. She didn’t add that she’d looked the information up just recently. She was the level headed one and wasn’t supposed to get so excited, but she was. Her interest in Sara had grown along with the weight of the baby in Sara’s belly.
Days later, while at her viewing monitor, Riala fingered the images around on the viewing screen, and idly reached up to push one of the floating flowers, a beautiful purple iris, from blocking her view, all the while wondering how it must feel for Sara to have a living being inside her belly, moving around and kicking. In their own time, on angel world, few babies were born, but she didn’t know why now.
She moved her monitor to wide view of the neighborhood block she chosen to watch. There, a speck, walking, no crawling over the grass. She zeroed in on the scene. A young baby girl had crawled around the corner of the building, over a sidewalk, and now was moving through tall grass towards a deep well in the next yard. The child’s mother was sitting on the front steps, but must have nodded off.
Riala sent an alert for help at the specific coordinates of the apartment building, then watched in her viewer as an angel, who’d graduated from the sprit training class and stood ready for just such an emergency call, took action. An angel named, Yahala, she thought but wasn’t sure because all she could see was a ghost-like image in the monitor, swiftly stepped down to earth. The invisible angel whispered into the mother’s ear. When the mother didn’t seem to hear, the angel went over knelt down in front of the young child.
It worked—the child stopped crawling, flopped onto her diapered bottom, looked at the angel, and began to cry loudly—whether with joy or fear, it was hard to tell. The mother suddenly woke up, ran next door, and grabbed her infant from danger.
Adults hardly ever notice us, Riala reflected, but young children can often see and hear us. She felt good about helping someone this day and couldn’t wait until she was allowed to step down to earth to actually help people. She was in spirit training classes at the present time and couldn’t wait to get done. Then she would be able to send her own spirit down to earth to save a baby, instead of having to call for help. And after a few more classes, I’ll be able to actually go to earth. She thought she couldn’t wait and felt excitement build just thinking about it. But, she reflected, not every assignment ended this happily. Their attempts to help adults so often fell on deaf ears that they concentrated on helping the children. Today, she felt good about preventing a serious accident.
Not every day was this quiet or pleasant either. When the Japanese had
bombed Pearl Harbor, their cloud habitat turned into a madhouse of activity,
with angels running every which way and popping in and out, sending oblique
mental messages to each other, and today, they still blamed themselves for
their inability to disrupt Hitler’s war and
Ariala, at her own viewing station heard the joy of accomplishment from Riala’s mind. She smiled as she remembered a few of her own emergency calls for help. It felt good to help people, but more tragedies happened than could ever be prevented. She hoped that one day she would be mature enough to work with Michael who did the most important work of all, right inside the war that now raged down on earth. She remembered one time when they’d all cried out at the failure. “Oh, why couldn’t we have stopped the war, stopped Hitler?” The single mental cry of woe had flown around the whole habitat. Ariala had sat amid the confusion wondering why the angels who worked down on earth didn’t do a better job. Her classes about earth answered some of the questions, like the fact that they couldn’t force a person to change. God gave all of us free will, even bad people.
Suddenly, Ariala’s
mood was lifted by the two butterflies that landed on the edge if her monitor.
Two tiny blue butterflies. Are those the rare ones down on earth? She wasn’t
sure. Riala would know, butterflies were one of her hobbies. Should she take
the time to ask, she wondered as she idly used her fingers to turn the monitor
to Sara’s apartment. She had just completed her own assignment, which was to
watch the men and women leaving a factory in
All of a sudden, she didn’t like what was happening to Sara. Sara was bent half over and seemed to be gasping. What is wrong? She quickly zoomed deeper into Sara’s living room and worked to tune her mind into the sound, a harder job than just viewing, but was unable to do so. She needed help to hear because it looked like Sara was in serious pain.
Ariala quickly sent the mental image of Sara to Riala and Chaella then added, unnecessarily, that they should hurry. “Something is wrong!”
Within seconds, Riala and Chaella popped out of the air to stand next to Ariala’s monitor. Something was definitely wrong. Was this the disaster that they had been afraid of? Waiting for? Together, they sent love downward in a wave of invisible God-light to comfort their sister angel and try to ease her pain. Prayer was always soothing to the soul, even to an angel who had fallen.
This time, fearful because of the emergency call, they had gathered at Ariala’s monitor because, if they managed to focus the monitor just right, they could listen in on what humans were saying, even beneath the roof, and they had had a lot of practice focusing in on Sara’s apartment. Riala did a quick adjustment, and they heard Sara moan and even scream.
Afraid, they kept their prayers flowing, prayers that sounded like tiny bells falling into the apartment. God was always on hand, always listening, always with them and now God would be with Sara. With their minds tuned in to God, they continued to pray for Sara who lay in agony far below.
Sara lay on an old brown couch that came with the apartment. She was drawing up her knees and letting out a huge breath after each scream. Mrs. Abernathy had come upstairs at the sound of the screams and called Sara’s husband home from work. Before long, Johnny ran into the living room and knelt beside Sara on the couch. He noticed the blood, cried out in anguish, and tried to grab Sara up.
Mrs. Abernathy took hold of the situation. “Don’t worry, I’ve delivered many a babies in my day.”
“It’s too early,” moaned Sara, “But it’s coming out, right now.”
“Let me check, honey.” She sent Johnny to the bathroom for towels and the kitchen to boil water. “It will be ok,” she assured both of them.
As the angels watched the event unfold, Chaella began to bite her lip and cry. “What’s wrong with her?”
Riala said to her, “Wait and see. She is giving birth; it might be ok. Pain is normal”
Angela said, “But the baby is coming too early.”
“Yes, about three months too early.” Riala thought but didn’t say.
So like Sara’s husband who kept pacing back and forth in the next room after Mrs. Abernathy sent hem out of the living room, the three angels also paced, all the while sending prayers down to wrap God’s light-energy around Sara.
Before long, Sara gave birth to a little girl. When the baby girl cried, they knew she would live, and with their many prayers raining down on her all the time, too tiny or not, she would stay healthy. The angels breathed a sigh of relief. The angels sighed because they thought the disaster they’d feared had been averted. In this belief, they were wrong.
When the disaster finally did hit three months later, a severe tornado that smashed a the lower end of Detroit and took out a chunk of River Rouge, the small city next door, none of Sara’s angel friends happened to be watching Sara in their viewer, so all they could do now was use their monitors to search for her spark of life buried beneath rubble. A few of the angels, not directly involved in the war in Europe, stepped down as spirits to search for Sara and other people who needed to be rescued.
The area looked like a war zone, with piles of broken buildings, damaged autos, and large store windows blown out. With their suburb ability to sense life, and with the help from their sister angels above, the angels knew where a heart still ticked beneath a broken roof or fallen wall, knowledge they then whispered into the ears of the rescuers. The few rescuers who could listen attributed their success to intuition as they pulled wounded from the rubble. It was a frightening day for many people in the city, although most people were rescued. Serapha and her husband were not among them.
Serapha’s friends, Riala, Ariala and her sister Chaella, high above in the clouds, had stayed long hours at their viewing monitors to help coordinate information between the angels working down below. They pointed to many sparks of life, but could not find Sara’s.
At the end of day, Chaella finally had to admit the truth. She cried out her distress, “My sister Sara is gone.”
Chaella asked through sobs, “How could Sara’s spark be gone? Angels can’t die, can they? My sister is an angel?”
Her friends didn’t have an answer, and hours later, after the trauma was over and most of the people needing rescue had been found, Riala, always the sensible one, suggested to Chaella that it was time to ask someone in authority who knew the answer to her question.
“We’ll ask Michael about Serapha.”
Chaella’s eyes got big at this suggestion. “Do you think he will make time for again? Michael’s legend had not diminished but grown.
“The same Michael who welds God’s Sword of Fire?” Arial asked. “I just learned about that.” She added.
Smiling, Riala, answered, “Michael won’t mind speaking with us; that is if he’s here. The war keeps him away most of the time. Let me check.”
Riala closed her eyes so she could concentrate and send her mind on a search through the cloud habitat. Michael answered her call right away and agreed to meet with them.
“Follow me,” she said to Chaella and Ariala.
They popped away from the work monitor and appeared in front of Michael.
Right away, Riala noticed Michael’s usually handsome face looked drawn and tired, yet, his mouth kept a smile and his stature still blazed with a silver aura.
Chaella stood in such awe of this amazing angel whose exploits filled long story hours while growing up, she couldn’t open her mouth to ask the question about her sister.
Riala noticed her hesitation and asked for her. “We are concerned about Serapha’s soul. She is called Sara down on earth.” Her voice lowered, “You know, the angel who sinned, Chaella’s sister.” Riala’s voice lowered as she added, “She died in the tornado today.”
Michael’s eyes seemed to smile at their question even as his face looked sadder. “I know about Serapha. Her soul will be judged just like any other human.” Then he quickly added, “But don’t despair, she has hurt no one, and isn’t that the first rule of God?”
For Michael, this day had been a highly stressful one, the shores of
When the three angels didn’t leave immediately, he took another look at them and suddenly realized that with their inexperience, they may not know the full truth. He sighed and broadened his tired smile, sending a wave of tender concern towards each of them as he said, “Don’t worry, we will find her body and send her back home, which as you know is far up-time. It is likely that once there, she can be revived back to wholeness and renewed life.”
Michael didn’t feel the need to explain to them how simple and innocent
Sara’s sin had been compared to a few other ‘fallen angels.’ Not too many years
ago, an angel from their habit, Asmoday, had been assigned to help direct a
business tycoon in
After Michael told them Sara could possibly be revived, each of Sara’s friends breathed a sigh of relief, thanked him, then popped away, feeling content and hopeful. They gathered for a moment at the railing just outside the habitat to talk about their new hope for Sara.
As the wind whipped their hair and their gowns flapped loudly in the high winds, Riala spoke out loud what each of them was thinking. “Sara’s shame will be overwhelming. How will she cope?”
Her sister said, “I just hope they can revive her. When I go back, I’ll help her.”
“That will be a long time from now.” Ariala said.
“It won’t seem such a long time to Sara. Remember, time flows different back home.” Riala reminded them.
“I forget. Time is so confusing.” Chaella said.
“We will live a lot of years here above earth, and they will have lived only a few back home. I don’t know how they calculate the time difference.” Ariala admitted.
She turned to Riala, “Didn’t you learn about it in class?”
“Some of it, but I didn’t pay good attention. I didn’t think the subject was important, not every detail, anyway.”
“Unless you are Sara’s sister and worried about her.” Chaella said.
There wasn’t anything they could say to that, so they stood in silence for a while longer, breathing in the clear, cold air above earth, before parting. Then, just as they decided it was time to pop back to their station monitors, Riala suddenly cried out, “Wait! Did anyone report finding a baby? Did you notice the baby’s spark? What happened to Sara’s baby?”
Weary but determined, they went back to their monitors to zoom in once more on every inch of ground. They searched for a tiny heart beat for hours, then days, but could not find any sign of the baby, alive or dead. Johnny had no parents left and certainly Sara had no relatives, so no one on earth missed the baby. Only the angels knew that a small newborn infant had gone missing.
Riala refused to give up the search or believe that the baby was dead. “Not one baby was found under the rubble,” she said to them, over and over. So Sara’s three angel friends kept searching every chance they had for the missing baby girl. Since no report ever came to light of a dead baby, they reasoned that Sara’s baby must still be alive—somewhere.
Off and on through the coming years, the three angels would keep up the search for the missing baby, but it would be four years before they would find her, and then just in time.
Even while the angels searched in vain for Sara’s baby, an unlikely young twelve year old, who still, sometimes, played with dolls, did find an infant to play with, and this also, just in time.
Chapter 3
Betty Lou finds a baby
When Betsey’s head fell off and floated away and sank in the dirty,
stinky
“See if I care,” she said between tears. “Don’t matter cause I don’t play with dolls any more.”
It took a while for the tears to stop because Betsey had always been
her favorite baby doll, for years and years, because it could cry like a real
baby when you tipped it upside down, and it had blue eyes, and pink skin just
like Uncle Bob. But Uncle Bob didn’t
visit any more because he was fighting a bad war in
Though young, she was
wise enough to know that her mom would never replace a doll that looked like
white people. Mom didn‘t like her carrying around a white baby doll, “Not
exactly right,” She would say, and did say lots of times. Also, Betty-Lou had
been told a hundred times to stay away from the
Eventually, Betty-Lou stopped crying, rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, and pulled at her new pink barrette as she mourned her beautiful Betsey. When she finally stopped her own crying, she heard a faint cry from the weeds far over on the left. A kitten?
“Oh, I’ll help you,” she said. “I’ll save you.” She called out as she walked to where the sound had come from. She hesitated to step into the gooey mud because if she got her new shinny paten leather Shirley Temple shoes dirty, her mom would get really mad. But she could still hear the kitten crying like it lost its mom.
Betty-Lou’s heart beat faster, “I am coming.” She slowly inched towards the muddy shore, past the tall brown grass and tall weeds. She needed to keep pushing the long stems away from her face as she inched forward to help the kitten.
With the next push of tall grass out of her eyes, she stopped
short. She could see that the cry wasn’t
coming from a kitten. A baby! A baby that looked just like her Betsey. Like her Betsey come alive, waving its arms
sideways, moving its mouth open with soft cries. The baby was surrounded by tall sticks,
picker bushes and other weeds which made Betty-Lou wonder for a minute if it
was a real baby or some new kind of doll like she’d seen in
Maybe I better not go any further. Mom will get real mad.
She stood up to think. The baby stopped and then started to cry again. She saw now that the baby was laying in a mess of broken tree branches, and the branches were bobbing up and down like the head of her doll did before it sunk into the water. She’d seen lots of broken trees from the tornado, and her mom said cars and houses were broke too. Maybe the baby is crying cause it’s broken? The baby seemed in danger of floating away any minute, but how can I grab it without getting my shoes all muddy? She dare not kneel in the mud, or mom would get really angry if her new dress got muddy. Betty-Lou looked around for a stick and found a long one nearby with just a few leaves and bent branch at one end. Just like a trick she’d heard The Lone Ranger use on radio show she’d listened to in Aunt Mary’s living room. She poked the stick at the baby and the bundle of sticks and twigs holding up the baby rolled over closer to shore, closer to her feet. One more pull and she could pick the baby up without getting too much mud on her shoes.
There, it worked. She didn’t even need to kneel down; she just bent in half, reached over, then plucked the mewing baby right off its floating perch, like the Pharaoh’s wife in the bible when she saved Moses.
Moses squirmed in her arms and then let out a scream loud enough to wake the birds nesting in the trees. As Betty-Lou stepped back as far as she could away from the edge of the oily river, holding real tight to the squirming, whimpering baby Moses, the trees rustled, the sky filled with million cheeps as a the birds flew away.
She walked backwards away from the rolling river, until they both got out of immediate danger. Still holding the baby in her arms, her mind ran with thoughts of how much fun she would have dressing Baby Moses up real pretty. Maybe the green knit jacket Aunt Mary gave her for her doll would fit.
I plucked me a baby Moses right out of the river. She smiled as she sat down on a huge, flat rock far enough away the muddy shore where her new dress would stay clean, although, it was no longer smooth and ironed, too late for that. She bent down and took a good look at her find, though it wiggled in her arms and cried as she pulled the wet blanket away. Well, it doesn’t have blond hair, but it is white just like Betsey.
Moses floated down the river from
Betty-Lou put her finger to her mouth and suddenly felt a question building up about Moses. Moses is wearing pink? Betty-Lou lifted the soaking gown, pink leggings, and soaking cloth diaper away from the baby’s bottom.
“Oh, oh, I guess I got me a baby girl Moses.” She smiled. Don’t matter, no ways. I lost my baby doll, but God sent me a new, real one, and this one sure knows how to cry.
Betty Lou takes care of baby
Moses
As Betty-Lou sat and rocked the baby, hushing it to sleep, her twelve year old mind turned to thinking about how she would keep her new baby Moses secret from her older brother and sister and, shuddering at the thought, mother. Putting her finger into the baby’s tiny hand, she thought of what she could do and then laughed at how easy it would be. Sure, the big tree with a hole in the bottom, the one next to the back fence. No one ever goes there because it’s my secret hide-a-way place, and the hole is just big enough for me to climb into, and bring baby Moses with me. The baby’s gown beneath a pink sweater and knit leggings looked warm enough, if it was dry. So Betty-Lou undressed the now squalling baby, hung the cloths on a bush to dry, took off her white pinafore with the ruffle on the pocket, wrapped it around the baby, then sat rocking and crooning to the baby until she went back to sleep. As soon as the baby went to sleep, Betty-Lou put her down on the soft grass at the edge of the large gray rock and sat back down to think.
Her thoughts ran furious about how to take care of her new baby because it’s got to drink milk, and pee and, p..oop. Betty-Lou knew she shouldn’t use the bad S--- word like Uncle Bob. Uncle Bob had laughed but mom got real angry at her cousin Little Mickey for using the word. Better be careful about that. I ain’t got no breasts yet, how can I feed a baby. Her thoughts searched through the whole community and finally landed right upstairs above her own apartment, in Aunt Mary apartment, and baby Sandi.
Little
Don’t matter; Aunt Mary makes bottles of milk all the time. Betty-Lou even fed Sandi when she was first born, but she didn’t change her poopy diaper. Yech.
“I’ll be right back,” she yelled to the sleeping baby. Then called out to the sky as she ran, “And please God, take care of baby Moses till I get back.”
Betty-Lou ran all the way home, through the door, up the stairs, then slowed down before she died for breath, and besides she had to be careful not to be seen now. Be invisible, she sang to herself in a mantra as she slipped into Aunt Mary’s kitchen. But it turned out to be easy. She opened up the icebox, and there was two coke bottles on the shelf that was ready made for Baby Sandi. She grabbed one, and turned to run downstairs again.
She paused, mid flight. There on the kitchen chair was a baby blanket. If this wasn’t the scariest day of her whole life, she didn’t know what was. Betty-Lou grabbed the blanket off the chair and another blanket folded on the table, turned, and ran down the stairs and out of the house as fast as she could. She huffed and puffed back to baby Moses.
When Betty-Lou got back to the gray rock near the river where she'd left the baby, Moses was screaming and waving her tiny hands in the air. She picked her up right away, pulled out the coke bottle full of milk, and let the baby suck. Betty-Lou laughed at the baby sucking on the nipple that looked almost like a real breast. She’d watched babies suckle a lot of times on their mother’s breast. Now I am a mother. She laughed out loud at the thought.
Betty-Lou did wonder, for a moment, about why Aunt Mary didn’t breast feed her baby. This was not an unusual question for a child living in the ghetto of River Rouge surrounded as she was by many brothers and sisters and cousins of all ages. At twelve years of age, she was old enough to baby sit. Even at a young age, most girls in the Negro community knew a lot about caring for children and babies. Betty-Lou knew her Baby Moses wasn’t a store bought doll, but, even so, she declared, “I am going to love you and take care of you forever and ever just like you my own baby.”
After drinking half the bottle of milk, Baby Girl Moses closed her pretty blue eyes and went to sleep. Betty-Lou unwrapped the sleeping baby from her white pinafore and rewrapped her in the two blankets she had brought.
My baby Moses, even if it is a girl,” she crooned. She wasn’t absolutely sure, but thought the lack of plumbing meant Moses must be a girl. Moses can be a girl if it want. One thing Betty-Lou knew, she was stubborn, isn’t that what her mom told her all the time.
Inside Aunt Mary’s apartment the next day, the stack of clean diapers sitting on the kitchen table became a problem. Aunt Mary caught her taking five of them at once and grabbed them back, balled up her fists on her hips, and demanded to know why Betty-Lou wanted to take her Sandi’s diapers to play with, clean ones too.
"What you doing Blue,” This was Aunt Mary’s pet name for Betty-Lou, which made Betty-Lou feel about two feet tall with shame cause of the lie she was about to tell as soon as she could think of it.
“Use a torn rag for that baby doll of yourn. Diapers cost lot o’ money.” Aunt Mary’s voice had risen in anger, each word rising in octave until she exploded with, “Mighty costly. I think your mama needs to hear bout this disrespect.”
“No, please. I just wanted to make a fancy bed for Betsey. Won’t do it no more. I promise.” With the words Betty-Lou gave her aunt the biggest smile ever and blinked her eyes like she was the most innocent person ever was in this old apartment duplex. It worked. Aunt Mary hadn’t noticed the bottle of formula inside her pinafore pocket. As Aunt Mary turned around to refold the diapers, and Betty-Lou slipped out the door. She escaped without punishment, but also without the clean diapers.
Betty-Lou lived downstairs and she was such a familiar a face, upstairs and down, that no one paid much attention to where she should be, unless there were chores to get done. Lots of those, which is why Betty-Lou had found the hide-a-way tree in the first place. Can't find anyone in here, and can't hear anyone call either, unless they call real loud.
So why did Aunt Mary need to take notice of me today? Betty-Lou pouted as she sat to feed and then rock baby Moses to sleep. Yesterday, when she found Baby Moses, it was cold, but today was warmer, so she climbed out of the hole in the old oak tree and sat behind it to rock the baby back to sleep. The sky was blue and the sun shone so bright, she had wanted to sit outside. It felt safe because the huge oak would hide her from everyone in the house.
“Look at the green buds on the tree and the big sky,” she sang to baby Moses.
Go Down, Moses
Way down in
Tell old Pharaoh
Let my people go
Betty-Lou smiled as she sang the song. When she was tired of singing, she talked to the baby. “Soon there will be a lot of green leaves and I’ll take you for a walk in the summer to see the pretty orange flowers, and yellow dandelions. The baby whimpered a little cause she was wet and needed a dry diaper, but she was fed and bundled up warm. Betty-Lou had seen to that. Aunt Mary hadn’t even noticed the milk and blankets were gone.
"Oh, my poor baby Moses,” she crooned as she rocked the baby back and forth in her arms. Baby threatened to cry louder and Betty-Lou said “Shush, little baby, quiet now.” I’ll take care of you.” To keep the baby quiet, she started singing again in a soft voice.
Suddenly, a sharp voice broke the world apart. “What you think you doing, Betty-Lou?” A voice said above her head. Her mother’s voice.
Betty-Lou dared to look up and almost dropped the baby when she saw her mother standing behind her. She wore her usual black, thin jacket, the one she usually wore to work, her hair was pulled back around her ears, but with a bandanna tucked in around her light, face, which meant she wasn’t on her way to work. Also her eyes flamed dark and squinting and her mouth was wearing a stiff scowl on a face tough enough to crack a brick. Almost as bad was her arms folded tight against her body which was swaying back and forth, as if keeping time to an angry drum beat. The neat curls popping from beneath the bandanna didn’t soften the look of her mom’s face one tiny bit.
Now that Betty-Lou had looked up at her, Mama mouthed such a hurtful cry as Betty-Lou had not heard since when Big Dan died two years ago.
"A baby! Oh, my, Betty-Lou, what you gone and done?”
Betty-Lou held tight to the baby as she continued to look up at her mother. Tears of fright ran down Betty-Lou's face, along with a slight mixture of relief that maybe her mom could take care of things now. Tears had also begun to stream down her mother's face, but angry tears, tears that glared like lightening in a dark sky.
This was too much. Betty-Lou shrunk down so she could be as little as a mouse, but, even so, she held tight to baby Moses.
"Oh, my poor dear,” her mom said as she plopped down beside Betty-Lou on the grass and put her head in her hands. She kept shaking her head, but when she looked up, the angry look was gone from her face, replaced by a face Betty-Lou had never seen before, as if her mom’s face had all of a sudden melted and run down like a wax candle.
"Can’t be yours, can it?” Her mother whispered, all anger gone from her voice.
Betty-Lou felt puzzled for a minute, what does mom mean? She grabbed a tighter hold on the baby, while she thought about her mother’s words. She remembered Aunt Ziggy and all the hush hush words flying around the house cause her belly got big, it never did get big enough to see much baby bulge cause Ziggy wasn’t married, and she wasn’t supposed to have a baby yet, but she did anyway. Betty-Lou thought of all those whispers and goings on about Aunt Ziggy.
“No, mama.” She laughed, “It isn’t like that. Not like Aunt Ziggy.”
At the look on her mother's face, Betty-Lou cut the laughter off quick, but continued in a small voice. “This isn't my baby.”
At her mother’s puzzled look, Betty-Lou tried to explain as fast as she could:
“God sent me this baby cause my white baby doll, Betsey, you know, the white baby doll Uncle Bob gave me, its head broke off and floated away and sunk in the river and then the baby floated right up beside me, like I was supposed to rescue it, just like in the bible, like the princess saved Moses. See? Just like Moses, then in a smaller voice, she added, “Except this Moses is a girl. I call her Baby Girl Moses. Can’t Moses be a girl?”
Mom put her hand on her heart. "You found it?”
Then her
mom got real quiet before she said in a thoughtful voice, “If it isn’t yours,
Betty-Lou, then whose baby is it? Oh,
my, we be in trouble about this.
“Don’t look so sad, ma. God must of did right. Ain’t God always right?”
“Oh, Betty-Lou, you are so young. We are in a pickle, that’s for sure, but not so bad a pickle I can’t hug my own baby.” Her mom suddenly reached over and gave Betty-Lou a huge, warm, loving hug.
“Honey, don’t you worry. You’re right, God will find a way. Her mother sat for a moment thinking and then said, “Yes, we’ll give God a chance to make this right. I’ll go talk to Reverend Tate about this problem. He’ll know what to do.”
Betty-Lou felt better when she felt the smile in her mother's voice. "I didn't know I done bad." she told her mother and felt a few more tears begin to form although she was still wrapped inside her mother's arms.
Then, suddenly, her mom perked right up, took her arms from around Betty-Lou, and stood up next to the tree. To Betty-Lou she looked like that brave Uncle Sam lady on the war poster.
“You sit right here child. Do not go anyplace until I get back. And hold that baby to your chest like it was a ton of gold, you hear? That…is…an…order.”
At Betty-Lou's nod and question, “What you gonna do mama?”
“I am going to bring Reverend Tate here to see the baby. He’ll know what to do. Stay right here till I come back.”
Betty-Lou could tell that her mother's voice still sounded hard with fear, no matter what her words said to make everything seem easy. Betty-Lou started to lay the baby down, but her mother who hadn't walked away yet, said in as firm a voice as Betty-Lou'd ever heard, "What'd I tell you, Betty-Lou? Don't you put that baby down, not for even for a minute, you hear?"
"Yes, mama, I hear,” Betty-Lou said then held even tighter to the sleeping baby to show her mom she would do what was asked, but not too tight, the knit jacket was too big which made Betty-Lou need to keep adjusting her hold, a hold tight and firm, as her mother rushed off to find Reverend Tate.
Betty-Lou
arms were getting tired of holding baby Moses and she so much wanted to lay her
down, but the memory of the stern look on her mother's face kept the baby tight
in her arms. Betty-Lou was afraid now
too because her mom said people were angry.
She remembered talk about some white folks who hung a Negro man down
south in
Are they going to hang me? She wondered, cause I found me a white baby? But I took good care of Moses. That’s what I’ll tell the white people before they hang me.
By the time her mother got back with Reverend Tate, Betty-Lou was in terrible shape, great streams of tears rolled down her cheeks as she sniffled to keep the snot in cause she didn't have no handkerchief. She couldn't even see her baby through the tears.
Betty-Lou felt the baby lift out of her arms replaced by a hanky for her nose. She wiped her nose and then saw Reverend Tate, in his black suit and the small black hat he always wore, lifting up the baby. Betty-Lou wiped her nose again as the Reverend Tate smiled down at her.
“It will be ok, Betty-Lou. I know a doctor at the hospital who will take the baby and find it a good home.”
"That right, Reverend?” Betty-Lou asked, sniffing back tears, and liking the lightness of her arms. “I would of took good care of the baby.”
"I know you would, girl. I know.”
His smile overcame her fear that she’d soon be hanging from a tree. She said, “I found her like the princess found Moses in the bible. I called her Moses, Baby Girl Moses cause she be a girl.”
“That was very good of you. You saved her life.” Reverend Tate said to her with a big smile. Then he and Mama began talking about how they planned to get the baby to the doctor. Betty-Lou listened with her ear cocked towards them so she wouldn’t miss not even one word.
“I called Doctor Drew at the hospital while you waited in the church.” Reverend Tate said. “I told him that the baby was white and could possibly be Bob’s and…, well I didn’t specify. Didn’t tell all of it, mind you, didn’t want to say it outright. Hinted that it had been abandoned, no need to mention Betty-Lou at all. Best to keep her out of it.
The Doc got the drift, real fast. Said babies were left at the hospital all the time cause of the war, and all. Mumbled something about a quick solution, if we hurry. If I heard him right, he implied that a tiny baby had just died, and well, who would know? Might be the doc was just thinking out loud, but I think the problem will get solved real quick.”
The
Reverend Tate gave the baby to Betty-Lou's mom to carry and said they might
just as well go in style. “I got my shinny new automobile, a 1938
Betty-Lou pretended like she wasn't even listening while the Reverend talked to her mom. She made sure she looked away, at the brown weeds growing by the wooden fence until her mom turned to her and pointed a firm finger.
"You, young lady, get into the house and wait until I come back home before you take another step out the door. You hear me, Betty-Lou?”
Betty-Lou nodded. "Sure, mama, I hear you."
Even with her mother's strong stern words, Betty-Lou's face remained calm cause no white people was going hang her now, but her heart stayed heavy cause she might never see her Moses again.
In this respect, Betty-Lou was wrong. She would see her Moses again, more than once, but, of course, Moses would no longer be a baby and Betty-Lou would no longer be an innocent child of twelve.
Sara at home on angel world
Sara’s eyes opened to a dull white room with a soft hand on her forehead.
“You can sit up now.” the voice said.
An arm wrapped around her shoulders and helped lift Sara up into a sitting position. The bed reformed into a seat that fit her new posture.
Sara looked at the wrinkles near the eyes and the aquiline nose on the face that confronted her and suddenly knew she was back on Angel World. Then the memories flooded into her mind and she gasped in horror and shame. Tears rolled freely from her eyes though she didn’t make another sound.
“You will be fine. I promise.”
Sara hung her head and shook it from side to side. The soft white hand went under her chin, lifted up her face and kissed her cheek.
“We love you. You will overcome your shame in time.”
In a soft whisper, Sara said, “Do you know what I did? Do you know what happened?”
“Of course. I probably know more than you, at this point.”
Sara realized this was probably true. Raphael was one of their greatest healers. She must have come back home to be with Sara, to help her through recovery. But how can I ever recover from such guilt?
“I killed them. People are dead because of me.”
Taking both Sara’s hands in her own, Raphael said, “That is not true. The tornado wasn’t your fault. Earth has numerous tornados all the time. You did not cause that tornado.”
“I knew not to get deeply involved, but he needed me so much and I loved him. I truly loved him.”
“I know, and you are not the first to succumb to the wiles of love on that planet. Consider yourself lucky that you weren’t tempted by money and the overwhelming selection of material goods available. It has turned a few angels into monsters. You never became a monster, just a women in love.”
Tears flowed harder with the soft words of comfort. “Is he dead? My husband, Johnny.”
“Yes. He died in the tornado. I am sorry.”
Sara’s voice stammered as she asked the next question, “My…my baby. What about my baby?”
“We don’t know yet. They still haven’t found her.”
This made Sara hang her head again.
“Can I send a message back. Riala and my other friends would keep looking for her, I am sure.”
“Yes, I will help you set up the message. Then you must spend more time recovering. God will help lighten your soul once more.”
Sara closed her eyes to feel God and communicate with him, but the golden aura she was used to seemed dim and far away. This made sadness flow through her mind and body.
Raphael hugged her tightly. “You will be well. I promise.”
Sara sends note to earth
One day, as Riala came out of her latest class “The Pull of Material Temptations on Earth,” she felt a ping in her mind. A note was waiting for her attention until after she left class. She opened it immediately. A note from Michael. He asked to see her right away. Quickly, alarmed, she stepped through the air and asked permission to visit. As soon as she arrived, her sister angels, Ariala and Chaella popped in to join in the meeting.
Michael smiled and told them. “I wanted the three of you to see the message first. It is addressed to all of us, but meant especially for the three of you. It is a short message from Serapha.”
“Then she is ok, she was reconfigured back ok?” Chaella asked.
“Yes. She is well…”
Chaella closed her eyes and gave thanks to God that her sister was alive and well.
“But she is greatly saddened,” Michael added. “She sent an inquiry about the baby she’d had just before the tornado. We have never found her baby and I thought one of you three might want to compose a note to send back to her. Her loss might feel less tragic if the news comes from one of you.”
“I’ll do it,” said Riala. “I know we didn’t find her baby, but I intend to keep looking when ever I go down to earth, soon I hope,” She looked at Michael for confirmation, but when he didn’t say anything, she continued, “I want to do a more extensive search at my monitor, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course I don’t mind.” Michael said. “We all would like to search for the baby, but the war keeps us very busy. Even when it is over, there will be more to do than we can ever accomplish.” Michael shrugged as he said these words and grinned, his hands moved in a gesture of futility. They all knew that there was too much work and never enough angels above or on earth to do all of it.”
His honest attempt at a joke helped put them at ease.
Suddenly, Chaella, built up the nerve to say, “I want to go back. I want to see my sister.”
Michael’s face saddened. “I am sorry. You must understand by now how hard that would be. We have a difficult time going back and forth through the barrier. We are fortunate that we found your sister’s body in time and could send it back. We dare not use up the energy to send you too.”
When Chaella turned her face away, Michael added, “But you can search for the baby at your monitor. As long as you get the real work done, nothing will be said, and you can spend the rest of the time searching. Wouldn’t you like that?”
She nodded in agreement.
“Riala please send the message soon. Serapha is very anxious and will welcome the knowledge that all three of you will continue to search for her baby.”
“Here is a copy of Serapha’s visual. You may want to watch it together, in private. I have already seen it.”
Michael handed the message cube to Riala. She took hold of it gently, fearfully, as if she were afraid to touch it. Then the three of them left and, by agreement, met together again in Riala’s personal room, a tight squeeze, but it afforded them the privacy they wanted just then.
Riala turned the message cube to face the only blank, wall in her room. All her walls were white like the rest of the habitat but she had pasted pictures of butterflies and flowers on three of the walls while real butterflies, blue and orange and white flew around her room and the blue asters and white daisies floated around like cotton fluff, disturbed by the displacement of air when they entered. A blue butterfly had landed on the bed so the angels stood rather than disturb it.
Long ago a few butterflies had escaped from the hydroponics farm and multiplied to live throughout the habitat. The same with some types of flowers. These tiny bits of floating life and color charmed the angels so much they decided to let them stay outside the farm area. Now and again, to everyone’s delight, a real bird managed to fly inside too. A pair of cardinals now lived in the farm area, but sometimes flew out to perch on a chair or high shelf, adding a splash of red to the whiteness of the habitat.
The three angels were anxious to see the message, and expected the worst, but they felt shock when they saw Sara’s face. She looked older and haggard, her petite face didn’t hold wrinkles well. She looked like one of the earth humans who had grown into old age, something angels hardly ever did because their spiritual and mental abilities could slow down the physical aging process.
“Look at Serapha’s eyes,” Chaella whispered, her breath tight with sadness.
Ariala went to Chaella and put her arm around her shoulders as they finished watching the short message. Sara’s usually vivid blue eyes looked dull, and her long white hair, instead of lively strands looked gray and lifeless. Riala couldn’t help noticing the liveliness of Chaella’s beautiful white hair compared to the dullness of her sister’s.
In the visual, Sara said, “I apologize to all my sister angels. I am truly sorry. I will forever feel real sorrow for the disaster I may have caused humans on earth. Please forgive me.”
Then her face took on an intense look and her next words were said slowly and distinctly as if they were the most important words she’d ever had need to say. “To my closest friends. I know I betrayed your trust. I know you have forgiven me because you love me. But most important, I need you to tell me about my baby girl.”
At this point, her voice broke and she was silent for a long moment before she continued. “Please tell me of my child. Did she live? Is she …well? I don’t deserve your love, but she does. She did nothing wrong. Please send me news of her—alive or…not.”
The three angel stood in silence at the end of Serapha’s short message. Chaella did sob then and Ariala enclosed her shaking body in her arms. Riala cried too as they let their sorrow for their sister flow through the group.
Finally, Riala said, “I’ll compose a return message right away. We will send the message from the three of us. I will let you know as soon as I have completed it so we can send a visual of the three of us together. Chaella, you will need to dry your eyes before we send it. We want Sara to believe the best. I will try to make the message as painless as possible. Which won’t be easy. We didn’t find her baby, but we will promise to keep up the search.”
They all nodded at this.
“It is good that Michael has given his blessing to the project of finding Sara’s baby. I will include that in our message. It will make her feel better.”
Ariala and Chaella disappeared to go back to their separate duties. Riala stayed her private room to begin composing the dreaded message. Dreaded or not, she was determined the message would also give Sara hope. At the end, she would say, “We love your daughter as we love you. We will find her, we promise.”
Months later, Riala arrived early to class. She was excited about this class and, as she watched, the two other students in the class popped in early with smiles on their faces too. She realized she wasn’t the only one excited. This advanced earth-ready class would teach them how to change their looks. Then they could fit in where ever they were sent to on earth. Riala had already learned how to apply make-up, take on specific facial attitudes for different cultures and how to wear different types of clothing and the, tough or soft, gentle or rough, attitudes that went along with the clothing. She knew how to look like a women working in a factory or a lady of high society. This last group of classes was the top tier for earth-readiness, after this she would graduate. Well, graduate from level one, anyway. Angels could take classes their whole lives because there was always more to learn about earth.
Their instructor had promised them a surprise this day. The thee of them, Riala, Isda, and the really good looking, Urzl sat down in the chairs provided and waited for Jacob, their instructor. Riala kept looking at Urzl. She suspected that his handsome square face and blond hair would stand out in any group on earth and she wondered how he could ever hide his good looks. She thrilled when he looked over at her and smiled.
Suddenly,
she gasped in surprise. The instructor had popped into the room, but right
behind him was a man who looked like he’d just stepped up from earth. A
Japanese man with straight black hair, eyes with a slight fold at their
corners, and golden skin. He wore a kimono of brocaded silk, open slippers on
his feet, and a long sword hung at his side; a vital part of the ceremonial
costume of
Riala was astounded. No one from earth had ever been invited to join the angels before.
Their instructor, Jacob, laughed at the look on all their faces as he said “You can close your mouths now. This is not a man from earth. This is an angel who you know very well.
They sat down in their seats as if glued, waiting for the next revelation as the angel turned slowly so they could see him in the round. Then he bowed in their direction and stood next to the teacher.
“Has anyone guessed who this is?” Jacob asked.
None of them dared say the word. Riala thought of one angel who was rumored to be great in the area of disguise and every other activity as well, but she dared not speak.
The Japanese angel smiled and began to reform into his true self. It was weird watching the transformation. His dark eyebrows and thin lips reformed as did the color of his hair and skin.
It wasn’t something that was usually done in front of other people. But if they didn’t see, how could they learn?
Within moments, the legendary Michael stood in front of them, smiling at their surprise. Even his clothing had reverted to the normal white garb of their habitat. He bowed once more before he disappeared from the room.
“How”? “It looked so real” “I can’t believe it” they all chimed in with comments.
Their instructor had to hold his hand up to silence them.
Every one let out a breath and held on to their many questions.
“Wait. The instructor said. What you just saw is the pinnacle of achievement that few angels reach. What I will be teaching you today is far different, but I wanted you to see what was possible.
“How did he do that? Do I need to learn how before I can go down to earth?”
“No. You will not need to do what Michael just did. Inexperienced angels are sent to where they fit in best. Don’t worry.”
Each of them had begun to worry they’d never make it.
“Today, in this first class, I will be teaching you how to correct your skin tone with your mind to create a long lasting illusion. We have a simple chemical mixture you can drink for the first time to help your mind ready you for the change. It is not easy but with practice you will become adapt at looking like the people whose culture you will be stepping down to help.
Notice how dreary and blank your skin looks compared to earth people. This is actually a help. It gives you a blank page to begin your coloration on. You will learn how to lighten or darken your skin and hair to go along with your earth disguise. As beginners, you will probably use simple tricks with make-up and costumes instead of actually changing your looks, but you need to learn how.
Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Now we will use your mental energy to darken your skin and change your hair color. He instructed them for a long while before giving them the mixture to drink he’d promised.
Fearful, but delighted at what they might learn, they each swallowed the drink that would start them on their way. It tasted good, like lemon, but Riala was glad there was only a small half cup to drink. She closed her eyes and imagined herself standing in a desert beneath the hot sun of earth. It worked so well, she could feel sweat begin to pour off her forehead. She opened her eyes and looked at her arms. Amazingly, the skin on them had turned a pinkish brown, not very dark, but a change.
She looked at the other students and smiled because Isda’s skin had a green tinge to it and Irzl’s skin was grayish black.
The instructor smiled at their first attempt. “That is only the beginning. You will do better. I noticed that none of you changed your hair color.”
They each frowned. Skin was hard enough.
“From now on, you will change your skin and hair without the help of the lemon drink.” At their frowns, he added, “You can do it. I promise. There was nothing in your cups except lemon flavored water. The purpose was to assure you that you are capable of the change.”
“You tricked us”? They each said.
Knowing it had been a trick didn’t build up her confidence; instead, Riala felt a quiver of fear in her chest. Maybe I can’t do it. But then she stopped being afraid. Of course I can do it. I need to get to earth and look for Sara’s baby.
By the end of class, each of the students had learned how to control the color of their skin and keep it at different shades of pink and brown. Hair color was harder to accomplish for all of them, but they promised to keep trying.
Before they left, Jacob, their instructor, reminded them about the value of tricks and mirage.
“Illusion and tricks will be your most important asset down on earth. We don’t send new recruits anywhere near danger, but the people down there can befriend you one minute and throw stones at you the next. Certain people are adept at using theft, hate, jealousy, and even murder to get what they want. I know I am repeating a lesson you already learned, but it can’t be said too many times, you must be careful down there. They may be your long ago relatives, but they are still at a very early, primitive stage of development. Your ability to throw illusory sand into a person’s face might help you climb out of a deep hole one day. Keep working at it. Class dismissed.”
Chapter
4
Maria learns to hide talent
Maria was a peculiarly unusual child but she didn't learn how unusual
until the age of four when a broken heart taught her to shut down her talents
and keep them hidden. Early childhood
slid past with only small hints that she might be different from other
people. As a child of three she thought
nothing of her ability to read thoughts or see rainbows around people's heads,
and didn't everyone know how to push outside their body? Experience taught her that other people were
different, even so, she thought of the talents as natural, just different.
One day, when three years old, while playing dolls with her best friend Laura at her house, Maria had hold of the rag doll with red hair that she liked best. Laura grabbed the doll's hand and began to pull.
“That’s my doll,” Laura cried, her blond curls wiggling.
“But I was playing with it.” Maria argued. She didn’t own a doll like this one. “I want to play with it”
Laura kept grabbing at the doll until she pulled it out of Maria's hand and ran to the edge of the porch. Angry, Maria bundled up a lot of frilly dark stuff inside her mind and pushed it at Laura who was leaning on the railing about six feet away.
Laura suddenly felt herself pushed against the railing so hard the wooden slat holding the rail together broke and she went tumbling over and down onto the side lawn.
Laura's mother heard her scream, got up from the chair, ran down the steps, and picked Laura up in her arms. Laura cried even louder than before.
“Now, now,” Laura’s mother said. “You are ok.”
“No I am not,” Laura yelled. “Maria pushed me.”
Maria stood silent, still standing in the center of the long porch, looking at her friend and mother sitting on the grass below.
Laura cried again. “Maria did push me, she did, she did.”
Her mother said, “Hush now, Maria did not push you. I was sitting right there beside the door. Maria was standing right where she is standing now. She didn’t move, so how could she push you?”
“I felt her push me.”
“Did not, did not.” Maria cried, then turned in a huff and ran off the porch and headed down the sidewalk towards home a few houses away. She knew that she truly had pushed at Laura, but she didn’t care.
She thought about the other times, times when she’d push a toy and her mom or dad would get a strange look in their eyes. She knew by now that other people didn’t know how to push, and she was beginning to realize that adults didn’t believe in pushing, that pushing wasn’t allowed. Maybe she’d be careful from now on not to let anyone see her push. She didn’t want to get a whipping like when she got her white dress full of mud or like when she made a cake all by herself while her parents were still sleeping. Maybe she wouldn’t ever push again, never, ever.
Inadvertently, her dad was the one who taught her the next hard lesson about keeping her talents hidden. She loved her father dearly and he often took her for rides to the country to look at horses and cows. She proudly sat in the front seat like a big girl. A ride in the country was always their special time.
This day, after they ooh’ed and awed over a few black and white cows in a field behind a slated wooden fence, her dad began driving away towards home, but a young man with blond hair and a smirk on his face, driving a blue convertible, swerved in front of their car, as if to push it off the road. Her father said, loudly, “Damn.” as he slowed down a good distance from the blue convertible and its crazy driver.
His mind said,
"That son of a bitch could have killed us. If I had a gun I’d shoot him off the road.”
The image in her head of her father pointing a shinny steel gun out the window and flame shooting at man in the blue car frightened her.
Maria blurted, “Dad, you won’t really shoot at the man in the blue car; will you?”
Maria saw the rosy rainbow around her dad’s head darken to gray, like someone colored it with a gray crayon. She shivered with fear at what she’d done. As long as she lived, Maria would never forget the look of shock on her fathers face after she spoke those words. At first, she didn’t understand what she’d said wrong until she realized that her dad hadn’t spoken about the shooting gun out loud, that he’d only formed a image of shooting the man with the gun in his mind.
He didn’t answer her question as he continued to drive down the road, but his face had turned to stone and his hands began to shake as he gripped the steering wheel.
Maria knew her dad’s hands weren’t shaking because he was afraid of the man in the blue car that was far away now. No, her dad was afraid of her. Her little heart felt his fear, a painful fear that sank in so deeply inside her that she never forgot the lesson, or the tear she saw rolling down her father’s face.
Betty Lou assists in
Kindergarten
Mrs. Turner, the Kindergarten teacher at a small school in River Rouge, turned to the new student helper sent from Rouge high school, and asked if Betty-Lou thought she could handle the class for about an hour just before closing.
“I need to take Mr. Turner to his appointment with the doctor, if I miss it, we won’t get another very soon, not with wounded soldiers still coming home from the war.” She added in a lower voice, “Those soldiers lucky enough to come home.”
Mrs. Turner’s husband had both his legs damaged. “I don’t mind driving him, mind you, glad to do it, but all these doctor visits do dig into my job. But don’t you worry, Mrs. Marshall, across the hall, will look in on the children too.”
She had begged the principle, Mr. Dean, for help, and perhaps because he felt sorry for her, he had given in to her request for help, and here stood her new student assistant, smiling, energetic, and ready for work. Dare she trust Betty-Lou to handle the class with out her?
So far, Betty-Lou had done so well Mrs. Turner was proud of her and told her she was doing good.
Betty-Lou primped at the praise, wiggling in her wide skirt, with the pretty pattern around the edge, and her new stiff cotton blouse her mom bought for her. Her hair was done up real nice too because she had a job now, well, sort of a job, and needed to look nice. She made sure she was good at it too. Earlier, she had helped the children color their letters and made the kids laugh when she read the big bear book in a funny way. Betty-Lou knew she could take care of the class.
“Sure I kin, Mrs. Turner. I like kids.”
But could she? Mrs. Turner was thinking specifically of Maria. What if Maria pulled one of her weird, little tricks. It might shake Betty-Lou up. Well, Mrs. Turner had to admit, they weren’t bad tricks, just strange ones. The first time she’d seen the eraser slide down the ledge of the blackboard, she’d almost had a heart attack. It must have been the wind. Then little Maria had the bad habit of jumping up and saying that nap time was over just a minute before the bell went off. Silly of me to worry. Mrs. Turner decided to shake off her wayward thoughts, but decided she’d warn Betty-Lou, just in case.
“Now children, everyone is to play real quiet while I speak with Betty-Lou. All the children stopped playing to look at their teacher.
“Remember, its Ralph’s birthday today and he will hand out cookies before you leave for home. I am watching to pick out the best student to help Ralph with the cookies.” The students started playing with toys again, but much quieter.
Mrs. Turner turned to Betty-Lou. “You sure you don’t mind?”.
Betty-Lou looked at her puzzled, “But Mrs. Turner, isn’t that why I am here?”
Mrs. Turner smiled. “Of course. Maybe I should warn you about one of the children so you don’t get upset. It isn’t anything really. It is just that you’ve been here such a short time, you haven’t gotten to know the children.”
“Oh, I know them already. I’ll bet I could call them by name already, even without their name tags.” Betty-Lou smiled as she spoke because she was certain she could take care of the kids; she loved kids.
“Well, that may be true, but I just want to say something about sweet little Maria. She does strange things, sometimes. Nothing to worry about, but I don’t want you to get upset if she…, here Mrs. Turner stopped to think of the best and nicest example to tell Betty-Lou…”Ah, she might go get her jacket before you call her name.”
Mrs. Turner, hadn't said all that she wanted to say, and Betty-Lou frowned at her words.
“I mean, maybe move something…or…Oh, never mind. Just do the best you can. They are all good children, except Tony and Ralph can be a problem, but since it is Ralph’s birthday, he is being especially good today. Not to worry.”
Betty-Lou wasn't worried. She really did love kids, of course a whole roomful was a little different than taking care of her brothers and sisters and cousins and…. Well, she wasn't a bit worried. She had already assisted Mrs. Boyd in First Grade for a whole month before coming to the kindergarten class to help Mrs. Turner. She was sure she'd be ok. Besides, teaching wasn't work, it was fun, and she didn’t need to go to a few of her high school classes on the days she helped teach.
After Mrs. Turner left, and Betty-Lou had promised to come back next week too, the fun part proved true. Betty-Lou let the children color and paste the letter N, then read The Three Bears and let the kids act it out. Great fun.
Finally, she rose from the teacher’s chair behind the desk, a position which made her feel proud and determined to become a real teacher herself one day, and said, “Now it is clean up time. Hurry, so Ralph can hand out the cookies.”
The kids yelled out in delight as they scampered around picking up crayons, toys and papers. Betty-Lou had to admit that she'd let the students go a little overboard with the mess.
“We have only five minutes to clean up.” She called out, and the kids ran around the room faster. She sat back down, smiling.
“Ann, no shoving. The first clean table and area gets cookies first,” Betty-Lou called out and smiled as they ran faster to pick-up. She happened to glance over to where the girl Maria stayed standing by her table. A cute kid with big black eyes on a tiny face and curly black hair, but she wasn’t getting up and running around to pick-up like the other children. Should I go over and speak to her? She wondered. Then she saw Maria give a sly glance in her direction and then a glance at the other kids, as if she was checking to make sure no one was watching. Suddenly, papers began scooting across the table until they fit into a neat pile. Crayons slid into the box nearby. Cute little Maria had a smirk on her face.
Betty-Lou looked down, pretending to read something on Mrs. Turner’s desk, all the time keeping a watch on Maria who seemed to feel safe from scrutiny, safe enough to gather pieces of torn paper from the floor, wad it up, and toss it into the waste basket, all while standing at her table and not moving an inch.
When Maria looked up towards the teacher’s chair and saw that Betty-Lou was watching her, her smirk changed to guilt. She quickly walked around the table and bent over to pick up the dominoes spilled on the floor, and began shoving them into the box with her foot. When Betty-Lou looked away for a minute then back, the box of dominoes was full and sitting the table. Betty-Lou hadn’t seen Maria put the box of dominoes up on the table, but there it was, done.
Puzzled, Betty-Lou sat biting her lip as she looked towards Maria's table and started thinking very hard about the young girl named Maria. Maria's table partners came back from cleaning up the toys and yelled, “Our table is first,” as they sat down in their chairs and folded their hands. They were ready for cookies.
Betty-Lou was still thinking hard about Maria, wondering if she was special, or something...? Then she put two and two together as she counted the years since she'd found the baby.
“Yes,” she said, jumping up from the seat. I have found baby Moses. She stepped over to the table, where Maria sat, “Baby Moses!”
But then felt stupid for saying it out loud, and seeing the blank look on all the kid’s faces, she caught herself up. Naturally, Maria wouldn’t remember, she was just a baby. Yet, so excited she could hardly think, Betty-Lou wanted to reach down and hug little Maria because she knew it was true. She didn’t bend down, she stood there and declared that table number 3 was the cleanest and they could have cookies first. Ralph came and gave each of the four children two cookies, and began handing cookies out to the rest of the class.
Her thoughts were running furiously, while she tried to finish the 10 minutes left of the school day. Mrs. Marshall did step in for a minute, noting that everything was fine, she stepped back out. Somehow Betty-Lou knew she had to befriend the little Maria. Maria was her baby. Well, not really hers, but Baby Moses, for sure. She always knew Baby Moses would be someone special.
She felt so happy she reached down and gave Maria a quick squeeze on the shoulders as she sent her to line up at the door. Maria pulled back, and looked up at her, confused.
“You don’t remember, but I knew you before, when you was a little baby.” Betty-Lou told her. She smiled and went back to the teacher’s desk. She had a whole room full of children still waiting to get their papers and go home. Now was not the time to think about Baby Moses.
As she called the other tables so kids could get their jackets, Betty-Lou's mind swirled with ideas. She was determined to learn more about Maria and see her again. Maybe she could convince Mrs. Turner to let her work three days instead of two. Betty-Lou smiled at the whole class, even more happy than she ever thought she could be as she lined them up to go home.
Oh, wait till I tell mama. She’ll be so surprised. I knew Moses was special, right from the start. My baby Moses.
Riala gets ready for earth
Sitting at her viewing station, Riala had noticed little Ralph before and his traumatized reaction to the big needle the doctors used. Her heart went out to the little guy and now, with her final class completed and permission granted, she knew how to send her spirit down to visit him.
“Oh, please God, help me take the fear away from Ralph,” Riala whispered into the brightening, sun soaked air of the new earth day as she stepped down in spirit form into the hospital room.
Ralph hated the hospital and especially the long needle that Dr. Joe used. Every time he saw the big needle, he began to cry. He was five years old and supposed to be brave, but he just couldn’t help it. It hurt even though the nurses said it wouldn’t. Already this morning, before anyone else was awake, he saw Dr. Joe walk past his room and he began to shake with fearful sobs. He hated Dr. Joe with that little smiley face on his name badge that was supposed to make everything all right. It didn’t. Ralph started to cry, but choked down his sobs. It was going to be bad, that needle, it always was, and it was coming soon.
At the thought, his body began to shake. He wished his mom was here but it was too early; the sun was just peeking through the curtains. Then, suddenly, he sniffed his snot in and stopped sobbing because someone was sitting on the bed next to him and her shinny face made him forget the needle.
A few moments before, Riala, in spirit form, had stepped down into the hospital, and still invisible, sat on Ralph’s bed. She reached over to the child and hugged him with her whole body. She stayed in this position for a long while as she sent God’s healing rays into the boy. She could feel the cancerous tissue dissolve as she held him. Finally, sure that her task was completed and Ralph was healed, she allowed herself to shine in the hopes that Ralph would see her. To her surprise, he did.
Ralph saw her as a beautiful lady who glowed brighter than daylight. He was afraid to close his eyes or the image might go away, so he kept staring at her. Finally, she smiled and laid a hand on his right shoulder, and spoke.
“Don’t be afraid Ralph. You have been very brave. After today, you won’t need any more shots with that big needle.”
Ralph’s eyes got big as he thought of what the beautiful lady was saying. “You promise?”
“Yes, I promise.”
He remembered the angel from on top of the tree at Christmas and asked, “Are you an angel?”
“Yes.” she said, and faded away.
He turned his head all around the room but she was gone. All that day, Ralph remembered the angel’s promise. His mom mentioned how brave he was when Dr. Joe came in with the big needle again.
“I am not sick any more.” Ralph said. Then he squinted his eyes tight closed for the needle, cause they didn’t know yet, and remembered the shinny angel. Later that day, Ralph noticed his mom gathered out in the hall with doctors and nurses talking loudly. Then a lot of doctors came to visit, and took more tests. They kept looking at his chart. Ralph heard one doctor whisper, “The tests show the cancer is in remission.”
Ralph laughed and sat up in bed. “That’s what the angel told me,” he said out loud to the empty room, and smiled his little five year old smile. Soon, he’d never get that big needle again.
As an invisible visitor once more, Riala watched Ralph and pondered at the ease with which God’s energy and her effort had healed the young boy. His happiness was contagious. She felt pleased, and wished her search for Sara’s baby would be as fruitful. Just yesterday she’d used up quite a lot of monitor time searching for any child who looked like Sara, knowing full well that the child might look more like her father. Riala couldn’t remember what he looked like, so felt almost doomed in her search.
To her delight, a short time later, Riala’s teacher, Jacob, walked over to her viewing station and told Riala that she had done so well in spirit that he was moving her graduation forward.
“Now you have my permission to step down to the surface of earth and do what you love best.”
He explained what and where her first assignment would be and left. Right away, Riala sent the news to her two closest friends, Ariala and Chaella, even as she kept working at her viewing station. “I have a surprise for both of you.”
“What, what” she heard from Ariala and Chaella simultaneously. “As
the earth people would say, I received my stripes today and I have an
assignment down on earth”
“What is the surprise? We
knew you were close to graduating.”
“The surprise is that my job will be in Detroit.”
Both friends knew right away what that meant. Riala would be able to search for Sara’s baby.
All three angels had searched while at their work stations and during free time, but so far, they hadn’t found any trace of Sara’s child.
Chaella sent back, “Of course, you both know she wouldn’t be a baby now.” She didn’t add the thought if she was alive because they had agreed to think of her alive until they learned otherwise.
“Yes, I think she would be about 4 ½ years old by now.” Riala sent.
“Maybe in school! That’s where you should look. That would be the easiest place, wouldn’t it?” Chaella added.
“You’re right. But she isn’t five yet. Would she be accepted in kindergarten?” Ariala asked.
“Maybe. It depends on her birth date. I mean, she must have one, right?” Chaella said.
“A fake one?” this from Ariala.
“We don’t know. We don’t really know anything, not even her name, but I will search. I promise.” Riala sent.
“We know she is down there somewhere.” both her friends sent
together. “Just make sure you keep us in the loop.”
“You know it will be hard to communicate through the thick mental
fog that covers earth, but I promise to try.”
Chaella, always the one to over worry, said, “I will check up on you in my viewer every 24 hours. That way you can speak and I will hear clearly.”
Ariala, “If Sara hadn’t fallen, we’d all have our stripes by now.”
Riala
answered her by sending a stern rebuke in her voice and words, “You are
being silly. If she hadn’t fallen, we
wouldn’t be looking for her lost child, and I am looking forward to the
search.”
To
change the subject, Chaella asked Riala, “What did you choose for your earth
name?”
“Leah,
and I decided to change my hair color to black.
My assignment is easy. I am to
watch a lady who is close to going back to church. My job will be to give her encouragement and
advice.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to go down to earth. I hope I am given permission soon.” Ariala said.
“Me, too,” Chaella sent. “I look at so many interesting things in the viewer that I want to see up close. Like the movie theater. I want to go to a movie theater and eat popcorn.”
All three angels imagined themselves sitting in a movie house watching the newest movie flick. Ariala imagined seeing King Kong, but Chaella’s imagination saw herself watching a comedy with Bob Hope and Bing Crosby. Riala didn’t imagine any specific movie because she knew she would go to a movie theater soon after arriving on earth.
Riala laughed at herself, and at the silliness of angels wanting to go to a movie theater, and sent, “We can watch the whole drama of earth unfold in our view screens.” Yet even she wanted to go to a movie. I wonder if it is this kind of pull that made Sara fall? Any of her friends would go to a movie if they were assigned to earth. A few angels never went to earth because they’d become expert at using their mind to aid humans in other ways, but didn’t angels who were physically present help the most? Riala felt proud to be selected for a job on earth and knew she would excel. She couldn’t wait to begin.
Betty Lou befriends Maria
Betty-Lou was sent to help Mrs. Turner again Monday and she made sure she was the one to walk the children to the door when class was over. As Maria walked past, Betty-Lou said, “Why don't you let me walk with you for a ways. I have a candy bar I'll share with you.
Maria certainly liked that idea and smiled happily when Betty-Lou pulled a three Musketeers candy bar out of her sweater pocket. Betty-Lou watched Maria's eyes smile at the promise of sweet chocolate. As soon as they began walking down the sidewalk together, she unwrapped the brown paper, broke it, and gave half to Maria, who looked up at her with smiling eyes of delight.
Feeling a slight qualm about how easy it was to snooker a little girl to walk with her, Betty-Lou frowned, “Maria, don’t ever take candy from a stranger. It could be dangerous.”
“But you’re not a stranger.” Maria said, looking up at her with her big black eyes.
“Well, you are supposed to be careful.”
Betty-Lou, ever daring and too pushy for her own good, as her mom always said, looked around as they walked to see if anyone was looking at them crooked-like. No one paid them any attention at all, which was kinda odd because she was on the wrong side of the tracks, so to speak. Well, she helped Mrs. Turner on the wrong side, so it must be that working on the other side gave a person some kind of status or privilege. Her mom would be horrified at her dare, had been when she learned that Betty-Lou was going to assist teachers at the public school in the white part of town. Betty-Lou chuckled when she remembered the shock on her mother’s face, and laughed.
Maria looked up at her, still licking chocolate smeared on her mouth with her tongue, and seemed puzzled at the laugh.
“It’s ok. I was just laughing at my mom. You got a mom?”
“Sure. Everybody’s got a mom.”
“And a dad?”
“Yes.”
“Humph. You right. Everybody needs a mom and dad. When I found you, you didn’t have anyone but me. You adopted?”
“What is adopted?”
“Oh, that means that someone has a new mom and dad because the real ones are gone.”
“My mom and dad aren’t gone. Well, mom might be shopping at the grocery store.”
“That ain’t the kind of gone I meant. No matter.”
After they had walked a while, Betty-Lou said, “I like you Maria. Do you want to be my friend?”
Maria looked up at Betty-Lou and smiled. “It will be nice to have a big person for a friend. Can I have a chocolate bar tomorrow too?”
Betty-Lou laughed. “No, I don’t work tomorrow. Besides I’d be broke. Don’t get hardly no pay just being an assistant.”
“That’s ok. I like you.” Maria said.
Betty-Lou knew the street Maria lived on was almost at the edge of the city, past the Catholic Church; her address was pinned to the front of her brown jacket. “Maybe I’ll walk you home every day I work. Keep you safe and all.”
“Did you really know me when I was a little baby?” Maria asked looking up, her innocent black eyes penetrating deep into Betty-Lou’s own.
“Wow, girl, you got a look with them eyes. Yeah. You was floating down the river like Moses in the bible. You don’t know the bible yet, do you?”
“I go to church on Sunday, but I don’t know about Moses floating down the river.”
“That’s ok. I just want to be your friend cause I think you’re nice. Maybe I am like you’re mama or something.”
“That’s silly.”
“You’re right. Silly.”
They both laughed and talked as they walked down Coolidge, past the
church and almost to
“I’ll see you again, next time I work.”
“You wanna come to my house?” Maria asked. “To play with my dolls.”
“No,” Betty-Lou smiled, remembering her doll Betsey, the white doll that sunk just before she found Moses, I don’t play with dolls anymore; besides, I need to get home.” As Maria waved good-by, Betty-Lou added, “But you can visit my house one day.”
Maria nodded as she started skipping over cracks in the sidewalk, her black and white print dress billowing behind her in the wind. As she turned towards the steps, she looked back at Betty-Lou and waved again, wearing a huge smile.
Won’t mama be surprised when I bring baby Moses home for a visit? Later, when she told her mother about who she met in kindergarten class, all her mom would say was, “Go on, you be acting crazy sometimes. Better pack that attitude away fore’n someone unpacks it for you.”
“But you said so yourself once that maybe the baby was Uncle Bob’s, didn’t you. I remember.”
“Well, I was just guessing and carrying on after he got dead. No sense starting any trouble. You hear me, Betty-Lou? You’ re a young lady now, but you ain’t too old to turn over my knee.”
“Oh, mama, you ain’t never turned me over your knee.” Betty-Lou reached down and hugged her mama until the worry left her face.
“I am going to bring Baby Moses, I mean Maria, home as soon as I can for a visit. You’ll like her.”
Chapter
5
Riala finds Maria
Dismay gripped her as soon as she stepped down onto earth. Riala felt confronted by a million colors and scents. She stood in the middle of mayhem with cars whizzing past, men and women walking around her, kids running, and so many people walking here and there up and down the sidewalk, she felt dizzy. A child of about ten bumped into her and kept skipping down the street. Out of breath with excitement, or was that fear, she leaned against the cold glass of a store front for a minute to gather her wits. Her insides felt so strange she wasn’t sure if she wanted to jump for joy or cry. She did neither; instead, she took a deep breath and stood watching as the people kept walking past her.
The effect
earth had on her was amazing. She’d been viewing it for many years, even came
down in spirit form, but to actually stand on the surface in her physical self
was surprisingly different. She told herself she was quick witted and
intelligent and would be able to handle the newness in just a moment. Actually,
she did. She had the directions to the apartment memorized, a map of the whole
city imprinted in her mind. Even so, as she walked to the next cross street on
Within two weeks, Riala felt she was making good progress. She had already met Mrs. Gloria Johnson, the elderly lady she’d been assigned to, and they became fast friends even though there was a big difference in their ages. Riala felt a slight kink in her disguise though when she told Gloria her earth name.
“Leah, what a strange name. I don’t think I ever heard of it, dear.”
Riala smiled to herself, if you knew my real name, you’d really be confused.
All Gloria said then was, “Guess we can’t tell our parents what to name us, can we.” She laughed.
This
evening, Leah and Gloria had walked to the show on
“Wasn't it great!” Gloria said.
“It certainly was. Had me in suspense for the longest time.”
“Let's go to the movies next week too,” she suggested.
“Yes, lets.”
It was easy to be a friend to Gloria, she was such a nice person, always smiling, always accommodating, always willing to listen. The world needs more people like her. Soon after their friendship began, Leah had discovered the main reason Gloria had stopped going to church; it was because she couldn't have a baby, and she'd tried hard with her husband for many years. After trying and failing so many times, she got angry at God. Yet, now, her position seemed to be softening. That is why Leah was sent down to help. As Gloria got older, she realized more and more that she and her husband's life was lacking something besides a family. It was Leah's job to convince her that the gaping hole in their life could only be filled by God.
“That was such fun. I loved the movie, didn't you?” Gloria said turning to Leah with a smile. “I still can't get over your strange name.”
“It is in the bible.” Leah told her, “But I forget where. “I’ll look it up and tell you all about it next week.
“Oh, that would be lovely.”
“I loved the movie too. I stayed on the edge of my seat through most of it.”
“I spilled some of my popcorn, I was so scared.” Gloria said as they walked down the sidewalk.
Leah smiled because she could smell the butter on her. “Did you stain your dress?
“This old thing? Wouldn't matter if I did.”
"I wonder what is playing next week?” Leah said.
“Hope I can go, Mr. Johnson gets kind of huffed up when I go out with the girls,” she laughed, “But do I care?”
Leah laughed with her. “I don't think he'll mind if we go to the show next week. I'll pay your way in and then he can't complain.”
They
arrived at Gloria's street and she turned away and waved good-by. Leah kept
walking to her own apartment that was further down
She had a lot of time to spare on this assignment and wondered if Michael knew she was planning to use some of that time to look for Sara's baby. He probably did, he seemed to know everything. Now that she was adjusted to earth, she was enjoying her stay. She did miss the constant touch of God in her mind. God was there, of course, but she had to stop and think about it and then assure herself of his presence. In the sky, she had always been aware of God's gentle touch, at every moment. Before now, God had never been absent from her mind. Here, she sometimes trembled with fear for the emptiness she could feel and wondered how earth people could live their lives without feeling God within them. Certainly the lack increased the fear and potential danger of the unknown. Someone could easily take a misstep, get lost in the dark, turn the wrong corner, run into a bad person, walk into a street lamp or...stub their toe on the curb. She let out a loud “Ouch,” as she hurt her big toe. Oh, my, she laughed. Maybe I'd better be more careful than even I know. She laughed to herself again. Her ability to find humor in everything is what helped her get this assignment. Don't loose sight of that, but she had to frown as she looked at her cut and bleeding big toe, beneath the street lamp. That will teach me to walk outside in open toed high heels.
Suddenly, a voice said, “Give me your purse, lady.”
Riala looked up at a teenage boy, his hair was stringy and covered much of his forehead and eyes, his leather jacket looked old and worn, his hands were dirty. She concentrated on his hands because his right one held a long bladed knife. It was aimed at her midsection.
“Give it here or I will cut you.” he said as he looked around, “Hurry.”
He still stood in darkness but the light glinted off the long sharp blade. Riala had only a moment to think. What can I do? Her options were few. Give him her purse? The identity inside was irreplaceable. She dare not hand it over. She couldn’t force the young man to change his mind, that was against their code of ethics. Quickly, she speeded up her thinking, so much so that the angry boy looked frozen in time. She could have grabbed the knife if she’d wanted, but he wasn’t really frozen, and might prove to be stronger than her. Suddenly, she thought of what to do. Her lessons were proving valuable this night because illusion was the answer. She’d need to remember to thank Jacob and her other instructors when she got back.
Riala relaxed her quick time and handed over her purse to the young man. Suddenly, just as he grabbed for it, it changed shape and began to wiggle and bark. Her purse had become a small, fluffy white dog. The boy tried to hold on to it for a moment, but then dropped it, as if it was a hot iron.
“What the hell?” He said as he backed off, deeper into the shadows, taking the knife with him.
She heard his footsteps run down the street and sighed with relief. Picking up her dropped purse from the sidewalk, she thought, now I have a tale to tell when I get back home. She smiled at the idea, but the truth of what she’d been taught, that earth was a dangerous place for angels hit her with sudden impact. She wanted to sit down right there beneath the light and shake, but dared not.
Instead, she wobbled back to her apartment on shaky legs and collapsed in the chair right away and began to meditate. If ever she needed to touch God, this was one of them times. She spent a long while in prayer. By the time she rose and went to bed, she was fully recovered and felt at peace once again. From now on she would stay more alert. Earth was beautiful but scary.
The next
day, she planned to check out the kindergarten class as the children left the
school yard. Luckily, as she'd learned with
a few simple questions, there was only one school in the city of
She walked up to the school the next day just before she thought the children would be let out. And here they come. So what was she looking for? Any girl child who looked something like Sara. Then she would check further into the girl’s parents and life. But first, she had to find, a little mirror of Sara. It was all the evidence she had to go on.
Just waiting to watch the children run past, wasn't as easy as she thought it would be. She couldn't stand against the chain link fence for too long a time or she'd look strange.
“Ah, here they come now, running, of course.”
There were so many boys and girls in a hurried stampede to get out of the building, it was hard to check their faces. But the kindergarten class was kept together, apart from the other children, while the teacher watched them leave. The school yard had just about emptied, and Leah had almost given up, before a tall girl, slightly on the dark side, walked out of the school with a young girl with a petite face and large black eyes came with her. Except for her dark hair and eyes, she could be a miniature Sara.
Leah could hardly control her excitement. The little girl’s dark eyes and hair were nothing like Sara’s blue eyes and white hair, but her face held the exactly same image of Sara. Plus, she was lively and talkative, just like Sara used to be. Right then, she was having an animated conversation with the young lady as they walked out of the school yard together, both popping candies into their mouths.
Leah knew
this must be Sara's baby, but she'd wait before telling the others. She wanted to check further into the girl’s
life to make sure. Slowly, she followed
the two as they walked towards
Ah, her
name tag read Maria Ann Pascal,
Leah wondered who the older girl was and why she was walking with Maria. Why not her parents? They seemed the best of friends, although the younger girl, whose head only came up to the other girl’s waist, kept up most of the chatter. She is cute. Leah so much hoped she truly was Sara’s long lost baby. Determined to learn more, she followed the two girls into the park, but kept a far distance away.
Tricks and danger in the park
As they
left the school, Betty-Lou wondered once again if she should be walking with
Maria, even if she was sort of her teacher.
During the school year, she'd walked her half-way home a lot of
times. Today they were going to the
park. What if one of her relatives sees
me with her? Would they care? Maybe say something? Betty-Lou had told Maria she shouldn't come
to her house all alone, but she did anyway, just last Saturday. How did she know where I live? Betty-Lou asked, but Maria couldn't or
wouldn't explain. She looks up to me, I
can't just shove her away. Besides, she
is cute and I like her–my Little Moses.
Well, we are just walking. Maybe people will think I am too old to be her friend, plus black and white don't mix too good, in this town, or any other. Betty-Lou set her face in a frown that let her stubbornness shine through. This is my Moses and if I want to walk to the park with her, I will.
As they walked down the sidewalk, Maria skipping over each crack, and surprising Betty-Lou by chanting, “Step on a crack, break your mother’s back,” the same chant she’s said when she was little. Thinking how strangely different but alike they were, Betty-Lou told Maria how she’d been found.
“You was such a tiny baby,” she began telling the story about finding her as a baby all over again, as if she hadn’t already told her a hundred times.
“Did you find your baby Betsey?” Maria asked, all innocence, as if the story of her river ride was a made up story like The Three Bears.
Betty-Lou sighed and berated herself for telling the story again, especially when nobody wanted to hear it. She clamped her mouth shut with a tight smile, until they got to the park.
After they both sat on the green bench, the first one they’d come to, near a set of large trees, but far from the playground, Betty-Lou’s mouth just opened and she had to continue the story.
“So you see, that is why I still call you Moses. And maybe when you grow up, you’ll be like the real Moses.”
“I got a real mom and dad. They don't know about any river or Moses.”
“I know.” Betty-Lou sighed again. “Besides, maybe it wasn’t you. So don’t say nothing to your mom or dad. I was just sort of dreaming. A person can dream can’t they?”
“I told mom I seen your cousin feed a baby with her breast,” at the look of fear and concern on Betty-Lou's face, Maria hurried up and added, “I didn't say her name, just some lady. Mom still got mad. Do you know why?”
Betty-Lou decided to ignore the last question. Too hard to explain. Instead she said, “When I found you, I didn't even have any breasts. I was flat as a pancake. Know what I did so you wouldn't starve? I stole a bottle of milk from my Aunt Mary's ice box.
“You stole?”
“Yep.”
“That's scary.”
“Figured it was right if it was to save a baby.”
Maria was quiet for a moment as if she was thinking of the morals of stealing milk for a baby, then her mind quickly turned to something more interesting.
“Do you still want to see my trick?”
“Course I do. Show me.” Betty-Lou sat back, a smug look on her face, pleased with herself because she knew the baby had been Maria, else how would she do all these tricks?
Maria looked around to see if anyone was nearby; she had already learned to keep her talents a secret from everyone except from Betty-Lou who always seemed so delighted at every new trick.
“Ain’t no one watching. I checked around too.” Betty-Lou said, and she had. She didn’t want Maria to get into any trouble. She’d told her it was important to hide the tricks. When Maria asked why, she told her she was too little to understand how ugly the world could be. Betty-Lou had tried to look up the stuff Maria could do at the library but couldn’t find anything. Maria sure is special, ain’t no lie about that.
Neither girl knew that they were being watched by two angels from opposite sides of the small park, one good, and one evil. Each angel had their own special powers, powers that allowed them to view both girls from a longer distance away than people could imagine, powers that allowed them to not only see with special eyesight, but hear with ultra sensitive ears, as if they each had a microphone tucked into a pants or skirt pocket they could turn on at will. Angels used technology but didn’t need it for something as simple as to zoom in on someone who’d caught their interest, and Maria had suddenly become the center of interest for both angels.
Both angels, Riala and the dragon, watched as Maria parted the grass into a whirlwind of swirling green blades and as the fallen leaves suddenly lifted up off the ground and twisted into a corkscrew shape to create a small dust devil before falling to the ground again.
At opposite ends of the part, both angels were on high alert, but for different reasons.
Unaware of angels, Betty-Lou just clapped in delight as Maria beamed with pride at her trick.
Then Maria, center stage now and loving it, squeezed her eyes, frowned, and bent her head like Betty-Lou did when she was thinking. She turned her head towards the sky and sent her mind up into the tall tree that stood nearby with a million leaves branching out of its top. Although the leaves were still green, she caused a lot of them to fall down and roll in little wheel shapes on the grass. As more leaves fell, they rolled into a star pattern and lay atop the grass, shimmering in the sunlight.
“Oh, it is so pretty.” Betty-Lou said.
Then Maria wiggled her head slightly with the effort, squeezed her eyes shut again, and changed the leaf design until it spelled out the word, B E T T Y.
Both of them had been having so much fun, they forgot to look to see if anyone was watching.
Maria opened her eyes and looked at Betty-Lou for confirmation of her great trick, but was thunderstruck by the look on Betty-Lou's face. It had turned as if to ash, all Betty-Lou's golden tones bleached out, all the twinkle gone. Betty-Lou's eyes were huge and staring hard at something behind Maria.
Maria runs from danger
Maria turned and saw a tall, huge, broad man, black as coal, eyes white globs in a dark face, a face that looked fierce like lightning. Maria stepped to the bench to be closer to Betty-Lou, mesmerized by the man’s saucer eyes and ugly smile. The man’s rainbow was purple and black, as black as his face. It was this, more than anything that frightened Maria. She'd never see a black rainbow around anyone's head before.
Moments before, the dark angel, just this day had taken over the mind and body as a large, black Negro male, and was on the way to the bar when he happened to notice the young girl playing at making tricks. He had paused in his walk when he saw the green leaves fall down and roll into a star pattern and then the name, Betty.
When Maria turned around to look at him, he smiled a big grin at her. The fear radiating out of her made him chuckle. The chuckle sound wasn't pleasant like a real laugh should have been. The dark angel was angry. Her kind of talent can't be allowed; it needed to be stamped out. He checked the environment around the patterns with his keen, angel vision and saw that the girl hadn't used any kind of witching spells to work the design. No, definitely, this couldn't be allowed. He must put a stop to this right away.
He glared at the little girl as he smiled and sent an invisible finger into her brain. He wiggled his dark finger around in the girl's frontal lobes, cutting a few synapses in half, re-routing some dendrites, and began to shove his whole shadow hand into her brain to squeeze the spot that made the talent, a move that would remove the extra-sensory kinetic ability out of the girl for good.
He was interrupted by Betty-Lou’s scream, “Leave us alone.”
He glared at the older girl. Yes, this huge man recognized her. He dismissed her and turned back to the young girl wondering if he should wipe out the whole brain? No, it would take too long and he didn’t have time to get labeled and run down as a murderer of little girls. On my way to a more important job.
He pulled his mind out but looked again at the young girl who seemed glued to the spot before he looked up to Betty-Lou who seemed about to scream again.
Then she did scream. She yelled at Maria. “Run, Maria, run. Run home!”
Maria, her head banging back and forth like a drum with the biggest pain she'd ever felt in her life, except maybe that time she cut the bottom of her foot, looked at Betty-Lou, and when she saw the man grab Betty-Lou's arm, she screamed, rooted to the spot. She couldn't run.
In quick, short breaths, Betty-Lou said, very frightened for Maria because the man had seen her tricks, said in as quiet a voice as she could, “I am ok. I know this man. I seen him before,” as indeed she had. “He is bad. You need to run.”
Maria still stood there next to the bench as if paralyzed. Betty-Lou knew she had to do something, but what? Then she figured it out, she’d use a voice that nobody could ignore, she used her mother’s voice when she got angry. With her voice high pitched and determined, she said, “You hear me, girl? Go, now!”
Maria turned and went, just as fast as her little legs would carry her.
Indeed Betty-Lou had seen this man before. He beat up his girlfriend and put her in the hospital. She'd seen him lots of times standing in front of the beer store with the rest of his hoodlum friends. A real bad one. She watched Maria ran across the grass to the sidewalk and kept running.
Then she looked up at the dark man, fire shooting out of her eyes, “What the hell you want? What you think you doing, scaring a little child?”
“Looking for some fun.” Then the man laughed his cold chuckle and his eyes stayed hard and black. “You best be careful or I’ll have fun with you.”
Betty-Lou’s heart gave a flutter, but she wasn’t too afraid. He’d be careful not to do anything on this side of the tracks or he’d get a lot of white people riled up.
The dark man, still holding on to Betty-Lou’s arm, said, “Who is that girl and where does she live?”
“I don’t know. We just met, ” Betty-Lou lied.
“You lie. I’ll find out.”
At the man’s wide, hateful grin, Betty-Lou shrunk away from him and finally pulled her arm out of his grip.
“You better watch who you sit with on park benches.” The man said as he turned and walked away.
As a lark, and to scare Betty-Lou even more, he waved his hand at the scattered leaves lying on the grass until they lined up in a hanging noose, then some of the leaves moved into the shape of a body hanging from it. The man croaked and laughed. He turned and walked in the same direction as Maria had run, but slowly. Betty-Lou hoped he wasn’t following her. Guess not, or he’d go faster.
As the dark man walked away, in no hurry because he could smell something in the girl, something odd and tantalizing, he thought about her talent. He’d killed it, or at least, dampened it. She wouldn’t be moving leaves into patterns again soon. Still she might need watching. What gave her the ability in the first place? Who was she? Did he have time to find out? His smell, keen like a hound dog, scented the path she’d taken. He decided to follow the girl home. Need to keep a check on that little one. Make sure her ability is gone for good and maybe look into her history to find out why she has such big talent in the first place.
Maria kept
running until she got to the small tunnel beneath
She took a big gulp of air, and ran faster through the awful dark and finally up the stairs to the other side of the street into the sweet warm, light of day. Oh, how beautiful was the daylight shinning on her even as she ran down the sidewalk and past Our Lady of Lourdes Church with its million stairs and fancy huge wooden doors that rose up to heaven. She had a quick thought that maybe she should run into the church and be safe, but what if she couldn’t open the doors? Instead, she sat on one of the stone steps to rest for just a minute because her side ached so bad; besides, she was almost home, almost safe. She lived just around the corner.
She was a long ways from the park, about five city blocks. She looked back through the sunlight to see if the dark boogieman had followed cause maybe he was like the vampire in the movie and couldn’t walk in bright sunlight? She didn’t see anyone. Still, terrified but out of breath, she got up, but couldn’t run any more. She cut across the corner lawn at a slow pace and hoped nobody would yell at her for walking on the grass. She crossed the street, then when she got to the gray wooden stairs of her house, she ran up them and slammed the door behind her, and tired as she was from running, she took the time to turn the lock on the old, wooden door as soon as she went through it.
The dark angel wasn't the only one who decided to follow Maria home that day. Riala watched from the far away distance of two city blocks, only hindered by tall trees and store fronts, but well able to keep track of little Maria. If she had any doubts that this was Sara's child, she'd lost them after watching Maria's tricks in the park, the twirl of tree leaves, the lettering in the grass, and the secret the two girls shared now revealed to the dark one.
She gasped when she saw the dark man approach the bench where Maria and the other girl sat. He wasn't just any man, of this she was certain. She shivered in her certainty that he was one of the dark angels, maybe the darkest angel? The dark angels could put on many disguises too, but they didn’t shrink from taken over a persons mind and body. She shuddered at the horror of it.
The dark angels always picked people who leaned towards the bad side, people who liked conflict, people who were never content with what they have and were willing to sin to get more. If this was the darkest angel, then Maria could be in real danger, so much danger that the fear of it shook Riala to her toes. She had to think clearly and stay calm. She dare not expose her own disguise. His presence was such a threat that it made her want to flee. She yearned to fly back up to the clouds where she’d be safe. And leave Maria? Never.
She followed far behind so he wouldn’t know that she was keeping a careful watch on events. If he knew she was an angel down from the clouds, he could snap her in two like a twig. Actually, she remembered a lecture about the dragon, that dark, hated one. It was said that he never did actual damage to anyone, but always used a third party to do the dirty work if he wanted someone dead. The dark one was extremely dangerous; most angels stayed far away from him. Michael didn’t, of course. He was constantly on the lookout for humankind’s nemesis. It was rumored that one day Michael would silence the dark one forever.
Riala realized that she needed to alert Michael as soon as possible. But first, she needed to protect Maria. Fearful of her impotence because she dare not use her angels powers or she herself would be discovered, she followed far behind, but listened and watched for an opening where she could protect little Maria.
Her own inexperience jangled her nerves raw; heightened fear made her mouth dry; heat filled her body with tensed energy; she wanted to scream, to relieve the tension. She had needed to watch when the dark one sent a tendril of darkness into Maria's mind and dared do nothing. She’d felt like crying, but dared not move. Now, following behind, she would find a way to turn the dark one away from Maria. He must never know she was part angel.
Riala had a
few talents she might try if she was careful, but she had to wait for an
opening while keeping herself hidden at all times. She watched as Maria ran for
home down Coolidge followed by the dark angel.
She waited for her chance. Then the idea of what to do came suddenly as
she watched Maria cut the corner at the side of the church. Riala said a quick
prayer of thanks to God. She gathered up her strength then sent an image of
Maria walking straight across
Riala watched for a while to make sure the dark angel didn’t realize his mistake and turn around, but he didn’t, he kept walking forward. She hoped that by the time he realized he'd lost the girl, he'd think it was his own mistake.
If he was intent on finding her, Riala's trick would only hide Maria for a short time. If the dark angel kept looking, if he had reason to suspect she had angel genes in her, he'd most definitely find her, turn her to his own evil ways, or kill her. She had to tell Michael.
Riala calls to Michael
As soon as she was sure Maria was safe, Riala rushed home to sit in her own familiar and comfortable apartment chair. It was an challenge to block out the fog of interference surrounding her mind, the constant mind chatter of other humans, their soft worries and fears, never actually vivid or clear, just a collective mist that was part of the normal thick air of earth, but if other angels could block the thoughts out, so could she. She needed to call for Michael’s help. As the most powerful angel active on earth; he would know what to do. He might even be on earth right now, and she knew, as all the angels did, that Michael was always on the lookout for the darkest angel, that dragon that ate men’s souls.
Riala concentrated on relaxing her body and then sending her thoughts upwards towards their invisible living space in the sky. They were always viewing earth and someone would surly pick up her mental call for help.
"I need help right away,” she beamed upwards into the sky. “Need help.” She repeated the short, quick call just a few times before she was answered.
Michael, himself, answered her distress call. She was so surprised by this she lost contact for a moment. Then sheepishly she wove through the fog of earth again to where he listened and waited to understand about the emergency.
“Sorry,”
she told him when she renewed their contact, “I didn’t expect you to
answer my call.”
“I try to keep in constant contact with our
workers on earth.”
Riala was amazed at his words. She knew Michael was often on earth himself, but she didn't know he also kept his mind in contact with all the angels assigned to earth. She wondered in amazement how he could do so many things at one time, but of course, he was special. Rumor said that he was in constant contact with God at all times, even on earth.
She sighed,
and continued. “I think I found Sara’s child, but so did a dark angel, mayge
the darkest one. I couldn’t stop his mental attack on her. He tried to
follow her home, but I turned his path.”
Riala felt Michael's surprise at her words. She lost contact again for a short second, but then recovered, and felt a little ashamed that she couldn't stay focused.
“I can’t seem to keep my mind steady?”
“Don’t worry about that. You are new at this cloak and dagger stuff.” Michael quipped.
She felt his smile. Oh this is even worse, he knows how embarrassed I feel. Oh, well.
She put her own thoughts aside and gave Michael a vivid view what she'd witnessed in the park and how she'd followed a dark angel and thwarted his attempt to follow Maria home.
After
watching the events as displayed in her mind, Michael explained to Riala what
she should do. "I think you are
right. It was the dragon who went after
Maria. It isn’t good that Sara’s child
inherited her mother’s talents. Better for her if she hadn’t. I want you to add Maria to your list of
duties. In fact, give it priority. We
dare not allow the enemy to notice her.”
“But, how? What can I do?” Riala sent, with all the seeming worry of earthly fear in her voice.
When Michael answered, she felt the warmth of his smile in his tone: “Don’t worry. The first thing I am going to do is follow the enemies trail to see what pot he is stirring up. Then I will convince Maria’s family to move to another home. They are probably young renters and move often anyway. Just keep an eye on the child. She will be fine if the enemy looses interest. At this point, he doesn’t know why she has talent and may dismiss it as a fluke, or he may have tried to erase her talent already. He is powerful.”
“I know.
I haven’t forgotten the stories and warnings.”
“I still sense doubt in your mind.” Michael said, “Truly this is an unexpected problem, and dangerous if it was truly the dragon.”
“ I felt
a shadow about him, like he was one of the dark angels, but with an added sinister aura.”
“That sounds like it was actually him, not one of his workers. It is vital we hide Maria. I think I prefer to look into this myself. If he finds out she has angel blood in her veins, she won’t last long, he might be a coward, but he’d find a way to make someone move against her.
Riala
breathed a sigh of relief when Michael added, “Leave it to me.” Then, “Are
you doing ok on what you were assigned to do?”
“Yes, a
little more time, that is all.”
“Then I have changed my mind. I want you to complete your first assignment
and come back home. It is better that
you stay far away from the dark
angel. I will let you know how it goes
with Maria when I get back. Realize
this, we can't protect her all the time.
She will need to learn for herself the danger of showing people her
abilities. We can only step in under
certain dangerous circumstances.”
“I know.” Riala sighed. “Just please help her this time.”
Michael's voice smiled. “Of course, right away.”
“You’ll
see that she is worth saving, and cute too.”
“I
am sure she is.” Michael said, “See
that one of your friends send a message to Serapha that you found her baby, or
rather, her child,” he said just before he broke contact.
When the contact ended, Riala stayed in the meditative pose and said prayers to God who she loved dearly. She felt separated from him down here on earth, and wanted to keep the thread of his presence flowing through her mind. The prayers worked and soon, God filled her mind once more. She reveled in his love for those few precious moments.
Chapter
6
Michael searches for the dragon
As quickly
as Riala cut contact, Michael entered the Rouge park. Even while she was still
showing him the view of the man in the park, he began to step through the
time-displacement, a move lasting a single nano-moment, yet absorbing a great
deal of his energy. No matter, the need to find the darkest enemy was urgent.
As he took the first step, he revised his coloring and clothing to fit the
dress code of
When Riala
called, he had been in
He stood for
a moment before he sensed the path that the enemy had taken as he followed
Maria. Michael walked the same route, beneath
He noticed when he past the viaduct, the streets became small and narrow, lined with many houses that looked to be squeezed in between small stores or bars. He followed the dragon’s trail down the main street and then into a small corner bar with a lighted window advertising different brands of liquor and beer.
Michael went in and sat down on a tall stool. The bar had a mirror running down its length with diverse colored bottles of drink on the counter. He ordered a beer on tap as he checked the mirror for the image Riala had sent him of the enemy. The dragon most often took over a person’s mind as well as body, which made it doubly hard to pick him out from the throngs of ordinary humans, and this also made it impossible for most people to detect his tricks until after they had been scared by corruption or worse. Always the coward, the enemy hid undercover, doing his immoral deeds in silence, stabbing his victims in the back with acts that taunted them to kill, steal, or worse.
Michael was not an ordinary human, he could detect the enemy any place, if he were close, which is why the dragon spent much of his existence running from Michael. This day was no exception. Michael sighed; he could already tell he was too late. The rounded, large dark man with the scowl Riala had shown him in the mental image was sitting near the wall, half falling off the chair. He looked dejected and drunk, gripping the small wooden table as if he was about to fall to the floor at any minute. Certainly, the big man was not acting like mankind’s darkest enemy now. Now he looked to be a mere empty shell of a man, used up and damaged by his encounter with darkness. The black man lifted his head up when Michael walked up to his table to take a close look at his eyes, just to make doubly sure the enemy was gone from inside him.
“Whs’ts you want, whs’ts want…?” Even the slurred words seemed to be too much effort and the man’s head fell back down to the table once more.
Michael
turned away disgusted and walked out the door. Too late this time, but he’d
catch up with him, of that fact he was sure.
It was bad news that the enemy was here stalking prey in the
Maria after the park
Still shivering and shaking from her run, alone now in her room, Maria, could feel something wrong inside her head, but didn't know what. Her head pounded like it was going to explode, and her eyes felt like they were spinning. She lay down on the bed, squeezed her eyes shut and let the darkness in the room soothe the pain. She hoped her mother or baby sister wouldn't come into the room, they hadn’t so far, so perhaps they were shopping.
Maria lay quietly for a long while until her
head stopped throbbing, but when she tried to move her favorite pillow with the
flower on it, her mind alone couldn’t change its position, and her head began
to pound like a hammer. It wouldn’t
budge, so Maria tried something smaller, a marble lying on the floor, oh oh,
she’d better get that up before her baby sister put it in her mouth. She tried to roll the marble with her
mind. Did it move just a little? Yes, but it hurt her head so badly she had to
quit. Her eyes were spinning in pain.
Maria frowned. Now she couldn’t play
games anymore or show off for Betty-Lou.
Maybe she didn’t want to anymore, anyway.
At the thought of Betty-Lou, Maria focused her
worry into a single point, as if she were looking at a photo of Betty-Lou’s
face, then suddenly without even trying, her vision jumped to the real Betty-Lou,
who was sitting on a narrow couch in her house, rocking herself like she too
was still afraid. The bad man wasn’t
around. Maria didn’t understand how
Betty-Lou could know such a bad man, but grown-ups were always hard to
understand, and wasn’t Betty-Lou almost a grown up?
Maria quickly accepted the limitation of one
ability and the beginning of a new one with the uncaring nonchalance of
childhood. Looking at people far away
was different from moving objects, the rainbow she saw over people’s heads, or
knowing what someone else was feeling, but she shrugged and filed it away as a
useless talent because all she could focus on was Betty-Lou; no matter how hard
she tried she couldn’t see where that bad man went, and she didn’t care where
her mother and baby sister had gone. She
still felt scared of that bad man and never wanted to meet up with him
again. She couldn’t tell her mom or dad
because then she’d need to tell about playing with the leaves.
A bit of maturity set into the child Maria at that moment, an understanding that maybe she was a Moses, and maybe she'd better be real quiet about what she could do inside her head, and not play any more games, even for Betty-Lou. She looked up at the statue of Mary on her dresser, the little plastic one that lit up with green light after she took it into the dark closet. She'd begged and begged her parents to buy it so she could have one just like the other kids in school. She loved that statue and often made the sign of the cross on her knees in front of it. This day she looked at the statue as she sat up in bed and made a promise to Mary. “I won’t do any more silly tricks.” She paused, “And I will be good.” She thought of Betty-Lou and how afraid she’d been of the bad man. “I promise.”
Many months later, Maria started to fret and worry about Betty-Lou. She had thought about her all during Christmas and even drew a picture for her, but Betty Lou didn’t come back to school. Maria hadn’t seen her for a real long time and Mrs. Turner told the class that in two days school would be over and summer vacation would start. Maria decided she wanted to see Betty-Lou real bad, not from her mind like that other time, but in person. She wanted to see the rainbow over Betty-Lou’s head, see if it had good colors. She searched for Betty-Lou with her mind but couldn’t see her any more and felt scared.
When school let out, Maria decided to go visit Betty-Lou even though her parents had told her to never go to that part of the city again. As long as the big, bad man isn’t there, I ain’t afraid, so instead of turning on Division Street, Maria kept walking down Coolidge, past the church, and then under the viaduct that covered the road. She knew the way, but kept checking the sidewalk and streets while she walked to make sure she didn’t run into the bad man.
A few blocks later, Maria knocked on the
splintered wooden door. She could see
where the paint had worn off to reveal yellow and brown paint below the
green. Someone had done a bad paint job
years ago but to her six year old mind she only saw the splash of nice
patterns. She liked to draw pictures and
sometimes could see a lot of pictures floating in the clouds. She saw a ragged face in the old wood pattern
of the door, one eye was squeezed small and half its face was green, like face
got hurt or something. Then the half
worn, green door opened and Betty-Lou stood there holding a baby in her left
arm, wearing a pretty blue rainbow above her head that made Maria smile. Betty-Lou was just fine.
“Oh, Maria, How’d you get here all by your
self? You only been here one time
before? Well, come in, come in. Nice to
see you.”
Maria went and sat on the narrow bed that
served as a couch, she had to push stuff away to make a seat. “
“That’s cause my mom and dad told me I couldn’t
come here any more.”
Betty-Lou bent her head sideways and bit her
lip, as if she was thinking, “You don't mean this house. How they know where I live?”
“No.
They yelled at me cause I went across the tracks. Just walking around on
the wrong side of town. You know.”
“Yes. I
do know. Then why you here, baby. You gotta obey your mom and dad.”
“Just cause I wanted to see you. That’s all.
“Come here.” Maria did and
Betty-Lou bent down with her right arm and wrapped it around Maria.
“I don’t want you coming here again, ok? I might have a job soon, anyway. So I won’t be home too much.”
“A teaching job? Cause I missed you in school.”
“Well, sort of.
Never you mind, you aren’t supposed to even be here.”
Maria hung her head and shuffled her foot and
toe of her shoe like she wanted to drill a hole in the floor.
“Tell you what.
I was going to put Louie in the buggy and walk to the store. Come on.
We can go together. I’ll buy you
a candy bar, like I used to, but you got to promise me you won’t come here no
more.”
Maria lit up with the mention of candy bar.
Betty-Lou bundled up tiny Louie, two months old already, inside two blankets because it might be windy outside, put him in the buggy, went to the ice box, grabbed a coke bottle filled with formula, and said, “Oh, a baby of my own sure brings back some memories. I remember when I stole a coke bottle full of milk for you when you was about the same age as Louie.”
“I am not a baby now,” then Maria’s eyes got big and wide as she asked, “Is Louie your baby?”
Betty-Lou smiled, “Yes he is. Ain’t he beautiful?” She pulled the blanket away from his face so Maria could peek in.
Maria squinted at the sleeping baby’s reddish skin, pug nose and curly black hair, and didn’t think he was so beautiful, but she had enough sense by this age to know that all mother’s babies were beautiful.
“I guess so,” she said, “Why’s his skin so red, and his hair so...”
Betty-Lou interrupted, “Now hush. Come on. You can push the buggy after I get it down the stairs.”
“If you never come back to school, then I won’t ever see you again?” Maria complained as she pushed the buggy down the sidewalk.
“I know. But I got to get a real job and I am going back to school myself. I’ll see you again, that’s a promise. Got me a baby now to feed, know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Then Maria asked with a touch of fear in her voice, “We aren’t going to the park, are we?”
“No, I don’t like the park any more either.”
Nether of them spoke about why they didn't like the park.
Betty-Lou bent down to rewrap Louie. While the buggy was stopped, she whispered so Maria could hardly hear, “Can you still do stuff, like, you know, move leaves?”
Maria shook her head. “I tried, but can’t. I
get a real bad headache.”
“But you could if you needed to?”
“I guess, but I won’t. I made a promise to Our
Blessed Mother.”
Betty Lou nodded, she understood. “I think you should stop doing tricks.”
Maria nodded her head up and down at Betty-Lou’s advise. She’d learned a long time ago to keep things hidden, but sometimes she got playful and forgot. She knew she wouldn’t forget anymore. “I promise.” She told Betty-Lou. “I really, really promise.”
Michael visits Maria’s family
After
checking out Maria's family situation, Michael disguised himself as a young
priest and visitor to Our Lady of Lourdes Church in River Rouge. Maria's family was renting a house right
across the street from the south side of the church and being a priest was a
good way to introduce himself. His credentials, quite legitimate, stated that
he was Father John Brogan, if anyone were to ask, but in this day, in the late
1940’s
He felt pleased to wear a good face where the smiles came easy on an open and friendly personality. A few assignments during the war had called for just the opposite, hard, tough, and a need to look sideways at the world’s million tragedies. He expected this project to be a joy, and looked forward to meeting Sara’s child.
He wanted to convince her family to move to an apartment across town, one where that he knew would be vacant, an apartment owned by a relative. It would be a good solution.
He had been thinking how to accomplish these goals as he walked across the street towards Maria’s house. And there was Sara’s daughter in the flesh, skipping back and forth on the sidewalk, mumbling some kind of childhood mantra. He smiled at her beauty. She didn’t have Sara’s white hair or blue eyes, but she definitely had her mother face and when she turned her dark eyes up to him, he saw the same intense look. Lovely.
“Hello, young lady.” He said.
Giggling, Maria said, “I ain't a lady.”
“Why, to me you look like a fine young lady.”
“That’s silly.” She giggled again.
Father John laughed with her. “Is your mother home?”
“Mom is feeding the baby. She cries a lot.” In a whisper she wrinkled her nose and added, “And poops a lot too?”
“I’ll bet she does,” agreed Father John, laughing heartily.
“When you laugh, you sound like thunder.”
“But friendly thunder, don’t you think?”
Then Maria abruptly turned and ran toward the small, gray, clapboard home and up the stairs calling out, “Mom, mom, someone wants to talk with you. A father from the church.”
Her mother came to the door holding a baby in her arms.
“Sorry to bother you. I am visiting the parish and just wanted to come for a visit.”
“Oh, yes come in. Come right in. I know I haven’t been to church lately. Too busy.”
“Oh, I didn’t come here to berate you for not coming to mass, but lets talk about it.” Father John said as he walked up the stairs.
Maria followed as close to his heels as she could. She wanted to hear every word. She liked the way the father smiled.
“Maria,” her mother said, “You go back outside and play.”
At Maria's frown, her mother said, “Right now.” And then gave Maria a stern look as she lay her baby sister down on the couch.
Maria had no choice but to go back outside, but she didn't play. She sat at the edge of the porch steps and listened to the nice father's voice that laughed like thunder. She heard him talk about the war with relief and then ask about the church and then if Maria was baptized and lots of other stuff that got boring. Before long, Maria was back skipping over cracks in the sidewalk. Adults didn't talk about fun things.
When the nice father came out of the house, he stopped to speak for a moment.
“My name is Father John and I have a piece of candy I saved just for you. A sweet for a sweet young lady.”
After he bent down and gave her the candy, he smiled then waved good-by and walked across the street to the big church, up the steps and into the side door, a door Maria always thought was mysterious because she hardly ever seen anyone use it. Mostly everyone used the big huge doors in the front of the church.
The next Sunday, Maria saw Father John up at the alter with the other fathers. She frowned because she couldn't yell out a greeting. Mass is holy and little kids are not supposed to talk. Hadn't her aunt told her that enough times? Her aunt sat next to her now and gave Maria a quick shove with her elbow, as if to say “pay attention.” Her mom had to stay home with her new baby sister, her mom and dad always stayed home from church.
Maria wanted to speak to Father John so badly, she squeezed her eyes shut, kept her mouth buttoned, and flew the word “Hello” through the air like an airplane to the nice Father John up at the alter.
Father’s back was turned to the people but Maria saw him nod, and when he turned around, he sent her a quick smile. She smiled back, and wasn’t surprised when he shook her hand after mass with a twinkle in his eyes, as if they shared a secret. Maria was just beginning to learn that other people couldn’t think words to other people. Sometimes she could, and sometimes she couldn’t, but she knew that Father John was special because he’d heard her mind call out hello.
“See you tomorrow, Little Maria.” He called as she and her aunt walked down the steps. “Tell your mother I will be around about noon. I want some more of those cookies.”
Maria jumped with delight. Maybe because the nice father was going to visit, but also maybe because mom would make the cookies with the chocolate in the middle again. Maria liked cookies, especially chocolate. Father John did come to visit the next day, but the next week she was disappointed that Father John didn’t say mass or the next Sunday after, or next. Maria so wanted to say hello to him again with their secret talk, but she never saw him again.
A few months later, just before Maria began first grade, Maria and her family moved across town to an exciting new apartment that had a huge, long porch she could play on with her cousins. She enjoyed living there because there was a play park half a block away, and behind the fence, a long train would sometimes clatter on the tracks and blow its whistle. If the kids were out playing in the park, the engineer would throw pieces of chalk out onto the playground for them.
Maria gets stuck
At age eight, almost nine, Maria liked to wander further from home. She liked best the huge, giant mountains of salt piled high behind the fence and just around the corner from the park, near the big gypsum factory. Sliding down the tall mountain of white rock-salt was the great fun. The small pebbles would slide her body around the huge salt rocks in different directions down the mountain. Through experience, each kid learned how to stand in just the right position for sliding or to tumble and roll over and over again down the side. Hundreds of train tracks ran between the big gray factory and the salt mountains where the kids liked to play, which meant that they hardly ever got caught. Once in a while, a watchman from the Gypsum Company would walk over and chased them away, but not very often. None of the kids were supposed to play on the big high hills of salt. According to their parents, its slippery, often wet, surface was dangerous, but none of the kids could figure out why, so they played there anyway.
Jeffrey said it was because of the fat electric lines near the top, but Maria, now in the third grade, didn’t think so. Jeffery just liked to fib at her. She could see for herself that the lines were covered in thick rubber and birds sat on them all the time. So why couldn’t they play here?
Maria’s dad didn’t say why not either, “Just don’t play at the Gypsum Plant,” he’d said.
Maria would nod her ok, but knew that the white powder stuff brushed off her jeans easily after each climb down the mountain. She kept her fingers crossed when she nodded her ok at her father.
This day, about five of them had decided to chase each other up and down the mountain. Maria let Jeffrey beat her twice just cause he needed to win and she sort of liked him, she liked his wild blond hair and silver, blue eyes, even if he did tease her by pulling her hair or grabbing her books on the way home from school. Last year, he chased her a whole block with his fist filled with dirty leaves to rub in her hair, but that was a long time ago.
“I beat you, I beat” she called down to him and the other kids.
“Beat you to pieces.” Jeffrey came up to her and pushed her shoulder, but when she didn't fall, he grabbed her feet and pulled her down off her high perch.
“No fair,” she screamed, and stuck out her tongue.
“I am king of the mountain.” he said and beat his chest like Tarzan.
Maria punched his leg and then grabbed it to pull him down too and they laughed together. “I think you're kind of tough.” He said to her then ran after the other boys who were running up the other side of the mountain.
Maria shrugged, got up, and ran down the other side of the mountain. Suddenly, her foot snagged on a wire or something and she went tumbling with a lot of white rocks that fell down along with her. She fell on her back so hard, the breath left her throat and she didn’t know if she could catch it. She did, finally, but had to cough in a lot of the white dust fogging up the air all around her. She coughed and choked, but breathed.
Something heavy lay on her chest, so heavy she couldn’t get up. She used her small arms to push with all her might, but it only wiggled a little. Maria saw that five rocks, one of them huge, had landed on her stomach. Wiggling her body and trying to turn to her side didn’t work either, and the white dust choked her throat and mouth each time she tried to call for help. When she called out, her voice sounded no bigger than the tiny sparrow chirping nearby and preening itself while sitting on the fat, electric line. She tried again, but couldn’t get her voice cleared enough to make a loud sound.
She could hear Jeffrey and the other kids over on the other side of the next mountain, but knew they couldn’t hear her, especially not with the hoops and hollering going on while they played Tarzan.
She squeezed her eyes tight and forced her mind to imagine the rock moving off her belly. She screamed silently at the blinding pain that filled her head. She couldn’t do it. Her head hurt to bad. She sent a Hail Mary up to heaven to ask for help, and this reminded her of Father John. Maybe Jeffery would hear if she called out to him like she called to Father John that day in church. It had been long ago, and she wasn’t sure if she knew how, but she had to try.
She could still hear all the kids whooping and yelling as they run up and down the other salt mountain, and then she panicked when their voices got fainter as if they were moving further away. They might go home and leave me all alone. The thought terrified her. Frightened, she coughed and choked on the dust again.
Hurry, call Jeffery, but she couldn’t seem to calm down enough to concentrate. I must, and I need to hurry. She forced her trembling body to calm down, and then she closed her eyes and imagined Jeffery in her mind. She kept a picture of him out in front as she called out his name over and over.
“Jeffery,” she screamed, as loud as her mind knew how to yell. “Help Jeffery, help.”
When next she opened her eyes, she saw his smiling face bent down over her own. Jeffrey is here, she breathed out a sigh. As she looked at his intense blue eyes, she felt drawn in, as if they were now connected by some sort of bond to each other. She blinked the silly idea away.
He called to the other kids to come help, and they quickly moved the rocks off her and threw them to the side. Her rescuers all looked funny with white stuff in their hair and on there faces. I must look even worse, she thought and began to giggle, but then choked on the white dust,
When she started to get up, Jeffery ordered her to wait. “Wiggle first, see if you’re ok.”
She was, and cleared her throat then told him so. “I am not hurt at all. See?” Then she added, “Thanks.”
The other kids stood around for a minute, then took off running back down the mountain but Jeffrey stayed with her for another minute.
She stood up and began to brush off the white power. “Guess I better get home.”
“Yeah, me too. See you.”
Maria watched as he ran off to join his friends. His family moved away after that and she forgot about the bond connecting them and didn’t meet up with him again for many years, not until her own family moved out to the suburbs.
The Angels decide not to intervien
The angels up in the habitat had seen Maria in distress beneath the rock but waited to see if her friends would help her first. They didn’t want to involve themselves in a physical rescue unless it became necessary. Better to stay away from Maria as much as possible so as to keep the dark angels from taking notice of her.
With other people, mostly children, they could be more direct. The big war was finally over and this allowed some of the angels to concentrate on healing or preventing serious accidents, although the more mature angels who worked towards preventing nuclear disaster continued this work because of its importance. All the angels, mature or otherwise, needed to be careful that their intervention did not interfere with the future in the wrong way. In a few odd cases, a person’s fame depended on the handicap they’d lived with all their life. In such cases, the angels were careful not to interfere, but most children did not grow up to become famous, and therefore, the angels could intervene to save a life, but even then, only if the person willed their help.
Compared to earth’s growing population, the number of angels were few, but they did what they could all over the earth and in one day and one hour, the angels were able to step in for:
A young boy in
A raft caught in an undertow on an African river overturns and when the boy comes up for air, he doesn’t know which way to swim towards shore. Crocodiles are swimming towards him. An angel shows him the direction the raft floated in and compels him to swim towards it.
A Tibetan couple was caught up in a snow blizzard that was so deep they couldn't find the sheltered rock they knew was ahead of them and began turning in the wrong direction. An angel touches the male on the shoulder and leads them to the rock ten feet away where they can wait out the storm.
A young girl
stands as if frozen during a loud machine gun attack, too frightened to run
away. An angel glows in front of her. She sees the angel and this startles her
back to reality. She runs and catches up with her parents hiding in the woods
in
Angels did much more than prevent accidents, some angels gave subtle advise in an attempt to influence people in government and science, others became writers, teachers and even scientists in hopes that their small influence might turn the ocean tide of human endeavor away from danger and conflict.
The dark time,
what the angels called “The Horror” an event that hung as a threatening shadow
over the future earth, would happen, would kill most of the people and the
planet, unless they could prevent it. It was an event that imprinted the angels
so deeply that when the United States dropped bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki,
the pain seared so deep in a few angel’s minds, they’d needed to be sent home
to recover. Later, the
Their task was not easy, each different path had to be chosen with deliberate care. Where they used to influence people with myth, now they found that written stories and the new media of television worked best because it sent ideas to large numbers of people quickly. Many angels became temporary writers for this reason.
Unfortunately, the dark angels became expert with their own kind of influence, they could also persuade with ideas, and did so frequently. Both sides fought the battle for hearts and souls and it was never a certainty which side would win at any given time. “No matter,” God’s angels said. They would never give up until every nation was swimming in peace and every soul had turned towards God and heaven. Besides, they already knew God’s side would win in the end.
Chapter 7
Seven years later—Maria as a
teenager
Maria, at the age of
fifteen, stood surprised at the image she’d just received as the other kids
brushed past her in the school hall. She couldn't move, she dare not move or
the images that had just entered her consciousness might go away too quickly
for her to know who was sending them. Some goon had real dark images flowing
inside in his mind, and she could see the scene vividly. In the image, a gun
was shooting in every direction and kids were running out of the front door of
the school. Worse, the person sending those thoughts was just around the corner
of the school hall, walking towards her at this moment.
The
bell rang but she stayed, as if frozen in place. She felt she had to see who
the person was who wanted to shoot a gun in school. Who dared think such a
thing. She stood rooted to the spot in the hall as metal lockers slammed shut,
and the doors to the classrooms closed. The misty rainbows floating above the
kid’s heads were gone now, leaving silence behind, all playful chattering had
stopped. Mrs. Henderson would mark her late, but she didn't care. She had to
know.
Within seconds, the
person with the dark, gun toting mind, wearing a deep maroon rainbow hovering
above his head, stepped around the corner. Maria got her second surprise of the
day, and it wasn't because he was smiling.
Feet planted firmly on
the floor of the hall, surprised she could still stand upright, she faced the
one person she would never have believed could harbor such dark images. She
felt like she was in some kind of school dream running around naked and
searching for a lost shoe? This couldn't be for real?
A scream swelled in her
mouth and was about to burst out. She gulped the scream back down her throat
and cleared it with what sounded like a frog's croak.
Jeffrey
Adams, a top grade student, straight A student, the student who beat her
in the spelling bee last year, the student who got sent home from math
yesterday, the student who had the cutest, clearest blue eyes in the
world, and the boy who seemed familiar for some reason although she’d never
talked to him, was now walking towards her with a gun going off full blast
inside the mind behind his forehead. Not
a gun toting mad man at all–just Jeffrey.
After
the silly frog croak, Maria squinted her eyes shut real hard to try and cut off
the image. It didn't work. Don't think. Don't see. She clenched her hands tight
against her side, and stood stiff as a wooden fence, but still couldn't stop
the ghost images from Jeffery's mind invading her own. She felt she was about
to crack open like a nut.
Then, when Jeffery spoke
to her in his nice, but rough, manly voice, the six shooter blasting from his
mind stopped, as if someone had just turned off a cowboy western on television.
Dead off. Maria giggled with relief.
“Hi, Maria. What you
doing out of class?”
She stared back at him,
still poised like a marble statue of Venus de Milo with two arms, she saw a
reflection of herself from his eyes, as he stood waiting for her answer.
What she saw was herself
as a unadorned girl wearing a dingy blue skirt, a dull white blouse, a small
olive face with a nose so big it took away from her dark eyes, but a mouth full
and softly pink, dark hair, waved and parted down the side over a too short
body. Her brown eyes didn't twinkle like his beautiful, glassy blue ones.
Right at this moment, it
was hard to imagine that this tall, handsome blond male wearing a black shirt
with his hair slicked down into a duck tail in back had guns going off inside
his head. Her legs quivered. Suddenly she imagined herself in a split
second image, running from a gun, but he wasn't the shooter, he was the hero
who caught her up in his arms. Silly and
embarrassing, the imaginary hero scene broke her out of her wooden statue
spell.
Maria yelped. It came out
a squeak as her history book dropped onto the hall floor and the papers spilled
out.
She watched dumbfounded
as Jeffery bent over, picked up her history book, gathered in the papers, then
held it out to her with a smile, as if he were the nicest boy in the world.
Yesterday, he was.
With trembling hands, she
took hold of the book and the wad of papers.
“Better get to class.
You're about five minutes late already.” His mouth smirked and his glassy blue
eyes had a cocky, nonchalant look, as he strolled past adding, “ I have a pass
to the office.”
She blinked, looked down
at her wrist watch, and yelped once more. Then she ran past the next three
closed doors until she got to Room 101. Timidly, she knocked and waited for one
of the kids to open the door.
Throughout history class,
her mind swirled between the fearful image of a school shoot out like at the Ok
Corral, and Jeffrey's blue eyes. She did
little work, but that hardly mattered.
She was an A student so skipping a few chapters in history would not
hurt her grade. Later, in the last class
for the day, math, she still couldn't get Jeffrey out of her mind, especially
since he was supposed to be sitting behind and to her right. She fumbled the math review up badly.
She didn't care, and all
she thought about on the bus ride home, was Jeffery. If this threat was for
real, it was up to her to prevent it; and, she realized, she was the only one
who could do so. No one else could see images in other people's minds. No one
else could know what he might be planning. Maybe it wasn't real, just a romp of
imagination. Maybe he was just letting out anger cause he had a bad day or
because he needed to go to the office.
Or, maybe it was nothing
to worry about. She smiled to herself as she imagined skipping school for the
next few days in case he did bring a gun to school, but then what? What about
the other kids? What about the school? And finally, she asked herself, what
about my own conscience? No, I need to learn more about him so I can find out
if he really wants to shoot someone. Then maybe I can stop him.
Later, at home, school
work was just as impossible. She heard the sound of a gun going off between every math problem. Why the sounds?
Then disgusted with herself, she went to where her brother Tom was watching a
cowboy show on television and turned the TV off. He yelled at her and turned it
right back on.
That
night she laid in bed thinking about Jeffery and the purple rainbow that hung
over his head. Just before she fell asleep, she realized it was up to her to
help him. She imagined herself turning his stormy rainbow back to normal by
filling his life with hope and joy.
What
if I approach him tomorrow in last hour? He wasn't there today. Is he excluded?
If not, what would I say?
She'd
never spoken to him before. She was shy and didn’t speak to many students,
especially boys. Would he still have guns going off in his head tomorrow? If he did, could she get up the nerve to
speak to him? Why am I so shy? It's this dumb ability I have, this curse. Other people don't see images from another
person's mind, or do they? She had a
vague memory of one person who she's sent a word to and he picked it up. Who was that? Ah, I remember. A priest when I
was very young. So maybe some other
people do have this talent? Be
interesting to find out. I would love to
meet other people like me. Can't ever
because they too would need to keep their cursed talents secret. Good thing they don't burn witches at the
stake anymore. These stupid talents
always cause me trouble of some kind.
She turned over and banged the pillow with her fists. Why can't I just be normal?
Well, maybe she could
turn this dumb talent to good use if she could help Jeffery. Hopefully, she'd
misunderstood the danger. His fear of going to the office and facing the
principal, Mr. Stewart, is what made him think of shooting off guns.
Her eyes finally closed in sleep, but fear of
her shyness and inability to speak lay on her like a shroud all night and the
dullness was still with her when she opened her eyes the next morning.
Maria was anxious to get
to school today; she was curious to know if Jeffrey’s thoughts would still be
shooting guns off again today, that is, if he was even in school after going to
see the Principal. She grabbed her book bag, shoved her unfinished report
inside and went out the door towards the bus stop.
The sky was pitch black,
covered in October clouds as she walked slowly past the dark side streets to
the bus stop. Already, she knew this would be a dull, bleak, rainy day, and
definitely an upsetting one.
Ann greeted her as she
gathered into the group of five other kids who saw the bus coming from far down
Beech Daily. Joyce nodded. Only the guys seemed playful this dark morning; both
girls got on the bus slowly, each quiet and reserved. Maria continued to ask
herself what words she would use to open up a conversation with Jeffery, so
paid no attention to the boys who roughhoused by pushing and joking with her as
she walked down the bus isle.
Joyce moved her giant
book bag off the seat so Maria could sit next to her. She put it at her feet,
but the bag was so full it cramped her legs. Maria's bag was just as full. It
seems that the teachers sent half the school home with them each night. Most of
the bus was still empty, but Maria felt pleased by Joyce's offer. Joyce wasn't
always so friendly. Today, the bus was so well lit, Maria saw Joyce's rainbow
as mint green. Always a good sign.
As Maria slid in beside
Joyce, she wondered if Joyce had Jeffery in one of her classes. She squeezed
the heavy book bag in front of her legs.
Such a heavy, bulky bag with history, and math and English and
unfinished home work and folders and science and all those fat books that
someone liked to write and papers and folders for every class and pens and
diary and drawing tablet and….
Ok, drop it. She was
putting the question off. Before she could avoid it further, she turned and
asked Joyce, “Do you know Jeffery
Joyce thought for a
minute. “Not sure.”
“You know, pale white
skin. He always wears black and his blond hair is combed into a duck tail.”
“Oh, yeah. He's in my
history class.”
“Know anything about him?
What he's like?”
“No. He keeps to himself,
except when he messes with the teacher.”
“A show off?”
“No, I don't think so.
Just has a smart mouth. Thinks he knows everything.” Joyce laughed. “Gets Mr.
Johnson angry cause sometimes Jeffery does know more than he does.”
They both smiled at the
image of Mr. Johnson angry. Any time a kid had an edge, they all liked to see
it pushed.
“Well, that isn't what I
meant. I meant anything like anger or hate?”
Joyce shrugged. “Don't
know. Never noticed.”
“Ok, just wondered. No
problem.”
Maria
got through her morning classes without a chance to ask anyone else
about Jeffery. She was shy and knew it would be hard for her to speak to
Jeffery. Her best move would be to learn more about him before her last class
of the day, fifth hour math, but so far, she hadn't had time to bring up the
subject without making a big thing of it.
Finally the bell rang for
lunch and Maria ran with the other kids to get in line. The
lunch room was very well lit and always seemed to be decorated in Christmas
lights to Maria because of the many halos she saw over everyone's head. This
was something she never spoke of to anyone because she knew she was alone in
this cursed talent too. Surly no one else had to put up with a hundred halos
flickering in and out under the glare of the florescent lamps in the lunch
room. To Maria, it looked like a room full of shimmer and glare. She felt very
much alone every time she walked into the lunch room until she became accustomed
to the smear of colors. They usually disappeared after a while unless she
concentrated on a specific person.
She sat down next to the
other girls from her third hour. Joyce was at the other end of the table. Would
she hear me if I asked Joann about Jeffery? Would she think I was in love with
him or something? Maria didn't want
that, but still, she wanted to learn more. Dare she ask one of the boys? Delmar
sat next to her but he was such a joker. He would never take her seriously. In
fact, he would tease her and spread the rumor that she liked Jeffery.
Maria
kept still and ate her chips. Doomed by the mountain of shyness inside
her own mind, she kept running words through her mind of how she could approach
Jeffery.
“Hi, I know you want to
shoot up the school” or “Hello, my name is Maria.” Dummy, he already knows your
name. Well, maybe, “Hi, do you know the answer to problem ten?” That would
work, but I am probably smarter than he is. Will he know it is a trick?
When the bell rang for
them to go back to class, she was still undecided as the count down continued,
only one and a half classes stood between her and confrontation with the devil.
Damn.
Math class was review for
Friday's test again, easy. Mrs. Jones went over the second set of problems. But
all Maria could see was question number ten because that was the question she'd
decided to ask Jeffery about. Every time Maria
looked at the number ten algebra problem, the answer she'd already
written blurred as if smeared by her glasses. She wiped her glasses with a
tissue, but the numbers still swam in a sea of distortion. Wishful thinking?
The pencil eraser did the trick, for real, and left a dark smudge.
Her nerves were jumping
and she felt like they were going pop. She looked up at the clock once more,
2:45, ten minutes to go. Her hands felt sweaty; she wiped them on her skirt.
She glanced behind and to the left. Jeffery sat quiet, as if in a dark cloud;
she couldn’t see any rainbow today. Was he thinking of guns? For the first time
in her life, she wished she'd taught herself how to control this cursed talent
instead of blocking it out. She was so concentrated in her own thoughts, that
when the other kids began to get up, she let out a little screech.
She sang the litany,
“Can't do it, can't do it, can’t do it,” as she stood at the door with the
other kids. The bell was about to go off and they had all gathered in a tight
group, ready to run out of the room as soon as the door opened.
Still singing that she
couldn’t, she did it. She walked over next to Jeffery and began to speak, but
all that came out at first was, “Ah, ah.” She tried again. “Ah, Jeff, could I
ask you something.”
There she'd gotten the
whole sentence out. Shaking so badly she thought he'd see, she just blinked as
she looked up at him. He was a foot taller than she was.
“Yeah?” He acted as if it
were the most normal thing in the world for her to talk to him.
She cleared her throat
once more, “Number ten. I mean. Do you know the answer?”
“Ten? A little tricky.
Come on I'll show you.”
He opened his math book,
squeezed as they were between all the kids, a few papers slipped and fell out
from another folder behind the book.
“Damn.” He grabbed them
up in his fist as the bell went off.
They both stepped back as
kids ran past in a hurry to get out of the room and school. He kept shoving
papers back into the folder, but not before she'd seen most of his drawings.
Black pencil lines showed bullets shooting out of guns, zinging down the hall,
lockers with bullet holes, broken windows shattered, with a lot of stick people
running out of the school building.
Surprised back into her
real purpose at the sight of the pencil drawings, Maria still had time to
notice that he was a darn good artist. She couldn't have drawn the scenes near
as realistic as he had. Is he an art major?
He slapped the papers
away and slammed the folder shut. “Wrong folder,” he smiled with a crooked
grin. “Come on, I’ll copy the answer down for you.”
She followed him out of
the room and into the hallway. “Good drawings. You an art major?”
“Naw, I just like to draw
sometimes.”
“I do too.”
“Got any work with you?”
Jeff asked.
“No, it's in my locker.”
“Here, found the math
answers.” He leaned against a metal locker and pulled the page of equations out
of his book. “You just want the answer or the whole problem?”
Maria 's nerves were beginning to settle down.
The noise of other kids around her created a semblance of normalcy that helped
her overcome her shyness.
She pushed past her
introvert self to answer. "Just the answer. I think I know how to do the
problem."
“Here, I’ll write it down
for you.” He tore a corner off a paper and wrote down the answer.
“Thanks.” Then to her own
horror, she added. “You want to see my drawings? They’re in my locker.”
She felt like crying. She
never showed her drawings to anyone. Never. Ever. They were her private stash
of thoughts on paper.
“Sure.” He opened his
locker, threw his books in, and said, “Lead the way.”
She pushed past the
thousand kids who still filled the hallway madly rushing to get out the front
doors. Her locker was in the front hall, and she almost walked past her own
locker, but caught herself. She ran the combination past the number and had to
run it again, but the locker finally opened. Jeffery stood there waiting to see
her art work as if he were truly interested. She knew he was just being polite.
With shaking hands she
put her books away and pulled out the tablet filled with her own drawings.
Silly, stupid. Oh, my God. She felt terrified and thrilled at the same time as
he pulled it out of her hand and began to flip through the pages.
“Hey, you're pretty
good.”
She didn't know what to
say, so she squeaked out, “Thanks.”
He stopped at the last
page. Maria swallowed a gulp of
air. In the drawing she was surrounded
by disaster. The school building behind
her had broken glass and kids made out of sticks were running out of it, just
like in his drawing. Would he notice?
Unfinished, it wasn't as good as his.
Maybe he wouldn't recognize it as the same scene. She'd drawn it this morning during
English. She was always done early so
had lots of extra time to read or draw.
He did notice the
resemblance. He stood looking down at the sketch for, it seemed, a very long
time. Watching as he held her sketch book, she noticed his large hands that
seemed taken over by huge knuckles.
What is he thinking.
Damn. Nothing is coming from his mind right now. Of all the times for my talent
to leave me. Such a stupid talent. I’ll
probably see images from my mother’s head when she cooks dinner, or an image of
spaghetti sauce. Dumb.
He finally closed her
drawing tablet and handed it back to her.
“Ok, stuff.” He told her.
“I'd like to talk to you about it. Want to meet Saturday? At Joe's. Two o
clock?”
Joe's was the hang out
where all the kids who were anything hung out.
Maria had never been there. She
truly didn't know what to say. He accepted her silence for a yes because then
he added, “Bring your drawing tablet with you. We can do drawings together.”
She watched him walk away,
her legs quivering. What should I do now? But she realized that this is what
she wanted. Get to know him. Make sure he doesn’t really want to shoot
anyone. So far, he seemed nice, maybe
too nice.
Betty’s brother gets out of hospital
Betty deliberately walked behind the nurse who was pushing the wheelchair through the hallways and out to the front of Receiving Hospital so she didn’t need to see the anger and confusion on her brother’s face as the nurse wheeled him to the door. The wide glass doors revealed her niece Sandy standing next to her mother at the car, her mother who’s white hair glowed in the daylight against the car’s somber dark, her face wrinkled twice over since the emergency, her body seemingly shrunk from worry about Mark. Betty saw Sandi wave excitedly from the car parked in the circle drive, too young and naive to realize how everyone’s life had just been changed. As the nurse pushed the chair up to the glass doors, Betty couldn’t help but see the expression of hatefulness on Mark’s face reflected in the glass and felt a premonition of bad things to come as they went through the doors to the waiting car. Sandi opened and back door.
“Don’t jerk the damn chair.” Her brother said to the nurse in a hateful voice, then commented, as if to the side, “Nothing but incompetents around here. Glad to get out, finally.”
Betty cringed at her brother’s words. Here he was, already mumbling and spewing out his hatefulness into the world and he’d just barely stepped out the door.
“Incompetent. All of you.” This time he directed his words directly to the nurse, who blushed with embarrassment. He pushed her helping hand away as he lifted himself out of the wheelchair, stood unsteadily for a moment, pushed the chair back towards the nurse with an angry thrust, and unseen by the others, allowed a grimace of pain to fill his whole face as a sharp pain like lightening seared through his head. Severely weakened by the pain’s amplitude, he flopped into the back seat. A plume of gray dust lifted up from the disturbance.
“Damn, dust buggy.”
Betty mused that no one had sat in the back seat of the car for a long time, since she and her cousins road in it as little kids, bouncing up and down, and fighting over who got to sit at the side window. She always won because she was the oldest and strongest. Betty smiled at the memory. Now the car, handed down to her mother, car sat in the driveway more often than it ever rolled down the street, driven once a month to go to the grocery store and that was it.
“Couldn’t you borrow a decent car to come get me?” Mark said, filling up the car with his anger.
At Mark’s continued spew of ugly comments, Betty’s mind filled with serious worry for her mother. How is she going to handle her changed son? I’ll need to go over there every day. I just can’t, not with the final tests coming up. My whole life is at stake. She swore under her breath.
Still she patted her brother on the arm just before getting into the driver’s seat and whispered in his ear, “Please be quiet Mark, you’re going to upset mom.”
Her mother had already got into the back seat next to Mark.
“Can I help it? It’s this horrible place,” he said, but at the stern look from Betty he turned to their mother and added, “Sorry mom.”
“I am ok,” she directed her words to Betty, “You don’t you need worry about me.”
As her mother smiled, the sagging wrinkles, most of them recent since Marks accident, lifted off her face to reveal her former beauty, a light skin that could almost pass for white, a skin tone of dubious value that Betty had inherited from her, contrary to Mark’s dark, chocolate skin.
Her mother added, “Betty-Lou, You know I am a tough old bird.”
Just the same, Betty turned to Mark about to demand proper behavior, but saw by the look on Mark’s face that he’d already settled down. He must have finally realized that he’d better stay on good terms with mother. If it wasn’t for her letting him move back into the house, he would be out on the street.
Once again she thought about the strange set of circumstances that landed them all in this turbulent sea. Mark had lost a job just before it happened, in fact, he said that he was out looking for work at the time. Then a bullet in the head, just like that. One second he was a hyperactive, outgoing, young man with his whole life ahead of him, the next, a half-dead man with a tiny bullet stuck in his brain, and no prospects in life, that is if he didn’t die soon from the bullet. That is still a possibility, she reminded herself, so be nice.
Mark’s mind was running along similar thoughts. What a crap shoot. Stuck in the hospital for weeks with all those stupid white, people with white uniforms on nurses and doctors and every wall white. I am damn sick of whiteness and whitey. White reminded him of the white man who shot him. Bet that didn’t get the cops hung-up. Only black skin got the police riled up. White people think they own the world. I got a right to be angry. He remembered that the police had shot the man dead but rationalized, that was before they knew he had white skin. That man messed me up but good. Maybe won’t live to see my next birthday. Feel like shit; hurts like hell too. Makes me want to hit someone. Guess it shouldn’t be the hand that feeds me. Mom is ok. Gotta be nice to her.
Betty heard Mark apologize again. Wow, two apologies from her brother in one day. Even Sandi turned around and gave him a smile. He’d finally begun to talk nice. Betty held her hope in check; she knew it wouldn’t last, the doctors had warned her, but for a moment, he sounded like his old self. She felt like crying. His old self had went fast. Betty was no longer shocked at the hateful words that came out of his mouth. The tiny bullet, the doctors said if it had been larger, he would have died right there on the sidewalk, had entered his brain and stopped at a vital spot in his frontal lobe. Mark said the pain was agonizing. The doctors apologized, but admitted that they couldn’t do anything more. They dare not try to remove the bullet, they told the family, it would kill him. So there the bullet sat, festering and turning her brother into a social misfit, probably for the rest of his life, short or long. Betty didn’t know how long she could stand the hurtful words pouring out of her own brother’s mouth; yet, her mother seemed able to turn a deaf ear towards the hurtful words. She couldn’t.
“He can’t help it, Betty Lou. We must accept him the way he is now.” Her mother’d said to her, over and over, while they waited for his release from the hospital.
“Sure mom, what ever you say. I understand.”
She thought, but didn’t say, and must you call me Betty Lou? The name sounds so childish and here I am about to finally graduate from college, with a Masters degree, no less, later than anyone else cause I am already 27 years old. Nerves already taunt, she felt like shouting, I am not a child anymore; instead, she’d bitten on her lip and kept silent. Her mother had enough to worry about.
Oh, why had her brother been on Jefferson and Coolidge that day? The man with the gun came running from the police and right towards her brother, and with police coming at him from many directions, the man sent wild bullets in very direction, one of those bullets entered Mark’s head. The police killed the man, but his death wouldn’t reverse her brother’s pain and anger. Betty didn‘t think it was the fear of death that changed him so much as the poison from the bullet. The doctors agreed with her.
She remembered him coming over to her apartment just three months ago. “Sis, got a dollar?”
“What for Mark? You know I don’t make much money. Don’t have much until payday. Did you ask mom?”
He hung his head. “It’s for a new book, I swear.”
Betty laughed, “Sure, a comic book. Ok, brother. I am happy to see you read anything. Here’s a dollar. Mind you don’t spend it on no junk.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
His smile was so big as he turned and walked out the door, she couldn’t help smiling as well, even though she’d need to go without lunch at school the next day. Betty loved her baby brother and couldn’t deny him anything.
That was then. Now, in his place sits a bad-tempered, foul mouth, full of hate, rascal who says anything that comes into his head, no matter how it might hurt a person.
Betty cringed as she remembered him swearing at her, but like their mom said, “At least he’s alive. The bullet didn’t kill him.” Well, not yet, but it still could. Betty wondered, just for a minute, if there would come a day, after a lot of verbal abuse from him, she’d wish the bullet had killed him. Then she felt so ashamed of herself, she turned around at the stop light and sent Mark a huge smile. “I love you, brother.”
His only answer, a silent frown and then a grimace as his face contorted in pain.
Maria and Jeff
Maria was showered and getting dressed for Joe’s Diner by 12:00. It took her an hour to decide what to where and another hour to get up the nerve to actually leave the house carrying her drawing tablet. It was a mile to the Diner and she decided to walk down the dirt road instead of ask her dad for a ride. She made sure her room was clean, the trash had been taken out, and the dinning room was swept before she took her shower. This way her parents had no reason to stop her from leaving the house. As it turned out, they were both to busy to notice she’d left. Her dad was reading the second newspaper of the day and her mother was in the back room washing cloths. Good time to skip out, so she did after calling, “Be back later,” to her dad, then walked hurriedly towards the corner and around it before she slowed down. They wouldn’t call her back now.
It was a nice fall day and a few neighbors were burning leaves in the front ditch. They smelled so great but smoked up the street where Maria walked. She nodded to Mr. Tuffet as she walked past and he nodded back as he stirred up the leaves. She’d helped her dad do the same last week.
She kept up a brisk, steady pace, swinging her drawing tablet at her side, until she was about to turn onto the paved street where Joe’s Diner sat. She could see the small white building with large windows amid the tall trees just around the corner. A few cars were parked out front but she suspected that most kids got there like she did unless they had a friend to ride with. A lot of kids walked over from school after a football game. Maria wasn’t interested in sports so she’d never went to a game or into the diner before.
Her pace slowed down considerably as she neared the diner. She considered turning around and going back home, but that would be chicken. Won’t do that. Instead, she pasted a fake smile on her face, slowly walked around the corner, past the yellow convertible and blue Chevy sitting out front, grabbed the knob on the wooden door and walked inside, abet on trembling legs.
But I did it, she thought as she stood at the door looking into the dusky, smoke filled gloom. Most kids smoked because it made them feel big. She’d tried it too and liked it, but had to hide it from her mom and dad, even though they both smoked. The diner consisted of one middle isle with booths on each side and a small fountain with high stools at the back. Maria walked slowly down the isle between giggling girls and rough voiced sport jocks, strutting their stuff. Her legs felt stronger when she realized no one paid her any attention because they were all too busy visiting with each other. But where was Jeffery? She didn’t see him yet. Maybe she shouldn’t have come?
Finally, after a
million years down the checkerboard isle, listening to the juke box play Dinah
“Maria, over here.”
Jeff was sitting with his long legs hanging into the isle on one side of the booth holding a tablet and pencil in one hand. He put them down and sat up as she slid into the booth across from him.
“What will you have? Coke or milk shake?”
“Coke’s ok.” She smiled and laughed.
Actually, she was pleased with herself. She felt courageous for showing up, walking down that long isle, and now answering Jeff. She was pleased to see that Jeff’s rainbow was yellowish green today and no guns were shooting off inside his head. All her fears about guns and stuff was just his own imagination playing out. Her smile got wider as she sipped her coke through the straw.
Jeff showed her his drawing of the people in booths across from where they were sitting.
“Ah, that is good. Drawing people as they move around is hard. I can’t do it.”
“Sure you can, if you keep trying. I am older than you.”
They both laughed because he couldn’t be too much older.
“Come on, bring your coke and come outside to the back. We can draw in the woods back there at the picnic table.
Maria followed Jeff through the back swinging door. A few kids sat at tables in the back but the big picnic table was empty. Jeffery grabbed a seat and turned towards the trees with his tablet.
It was a beautiful scene. A rolling hill separated the trees from the diner and a path wound through them.
“Beautiful, all it needs is a river.” Maria said as she pulled her own tablet out of her bag and pencils. She squinted, “And a few more trees on the right to hide the road back there.”
Jeff laughed. “Hey, that’s what I am about to draw, those cars rolling down the road kicking up dust.”
They both laughed. Maria was surprised at how relaxed she felt with Jeff, as if she’d known him all her life. They sat sipping coke for another half an hour. Finally, Jeff set his pencils and tablet down. “Ok, that’s all for me. Want a hamburger or something?”
Maria was afraid she’d need to pay for it and hadn’t brought any money, so she shook her head no.
“Don’t matter. Lets go for a walk and see where the path leads.”
They walked for about fifteen minutes and then Jeffery, who had skipped ahead, began laughing. “Look,” he pointed.
Maria laughed too. A long drainage ditch filled with water. “Well, sort of a river.” It was funny and they both sat down on a fallen log beneath the trees and next to the water filled ditch.
“Hey, don’t laugh. My brother has caught fish from the ditch behind our house. So maybe it’s a real river?”
“Ha, maybe.” Jeff smiled with his whole face and his eyes twinkled. A few stray hairs had fallen down on his forehead. Suddenly, she was caught up in the look of it. Handsome blond, an A student, and an artist. Wow. Too good for me, but she shoved the thought back and just lay down in the leaves to watch the sky roll past the tree tops.
“This is wonderful.”
Suddenly, they heard a loud bang. Maria sat up at the sound, but Jeff jumped up from his prone position, as if ready to take flight. His face showed fear and then a scowl. His eyes blazed with anger; his rainbow had turned dark purple as if a storm were brewing inside his head. A simple car backfiring made his face turn ugly.
The mood had now turned so bad, Maria was determined to change it back, so she picked up a handful of fallen leaves and playfully threw them at Jeff, then ran further down the path. Jeff laughed and followed her with his own handful of dead leaves.
When she tripped on a tree root in the path and fell down, Jeff threw the leaves at her, then fell down beside her. They both lay there panting. When they sat up, Jeff suddenly put his arms around her and gave her a squeeze.
“Thanks for the laughter. I was about to go off again, you know, a real panic thing. You turned me back around.”
“What do you mean?”
Jeff’s face told it all. Suddenly, a blush crept on to his cheeks, his clear blue eyes opened wide, and his lips clamped shut as if he had just said something wrong. He started to get up. “I mean…”
Maria had a sudden understanding. She took both Jeff’s hands in her own and said, “I know what you mean. The sound of guns can push you off the deep end. That’s why you drew those guns with students running out of school. That’s why your mind was filled with shouts and guns going off.”
Then Maria had to gulp in her own mis-statement. She could only hope that Jeff hadn’t noticed what she’d said.
He hadn’t. His shoulders rose and he hung his head in shame.
“You are trying to face a severe trauma? Something you went through before? Trying to work it out?” She asked.
He nodded as he sat back down beside her.
They were both silent for a while. Maria thought the quiet intimacy would help Jeff think his panic away. No other students were walking on the path, she looked around to make sure before she her arms around Jeff to give him a huge, quick, hug, like she would her baby sister. Then embarrassed she leaned back and slid a little away from him.
He looked at her for a silent moment and they seemed to connect on a level she had never felt with another person. Then he seemed to deliberately put his cocky face back on as he said, “Hey, getting late. I’ll beat you back to the diner.” He jumped up and began to run.
“Oh, no you won’t.” she said and chased after him.
When she and Jeff finally went their separate ways from the diner, her step danced while she hummed the Dinah Washington song, swinging her arms and kicking at stones on the road all the way home.
Maria learns about Jeff’s fear
Weeks later, going steady now, as they sat in Maria’s garage, shivering with cold because they didn’t want to go into the house to be around adults, Jeffery told her why he was afraid of loud noises. He told her that three years ago, a man with a gun actually had walked into his school and began shooting. No one was killed but the man shot the windows out in the school. It was the sound of the gun going off and the windows breaking and shattering that still pushed him into an emotional trauma. Sometimes he could go into a daze for long minutes after he heard a loud bang.
“I was sitting in my seat when this man walked
in, stood in the doorway and began shooting. He’d been in
We felt captured. We couldn’t run out of the school because he was in our way. Then we saw him standing there in the doorway swaying and turning his head this way and that. When he started crying, he walked to the front of the room and leaned against the black board. That’s when all us kids ran out of the room and the school.”
“Wow. That must have been scary. I am so sorry.” Maria felt like she wanted to say more, but what was there to say? All she could add was, “I am glad I never had to go through something like that.”
“Yeah. I blamed
my dad. It was his fault that we moved down there to
“Is that why you don’t like to go home until late?”
Jeff smiled. “No. I want to be with you as long as I can, silly.”
Maria blushed. It felt good to have Jeffery like her.
“Hey, since we are telling truths here, what about you?”
“What do you mean? What about me?”
“That day we met at the diner you said you seen guns shooting in my head.”
Maria gulped and tried to hide the look of fear on her face, “No I didn’t.”
She wasn’t a good liar and could only hope he’d believe her statement.
“Yes you did. I remember.” Jeff leaned back against the chair with a sure smirk on his face, as if he’d caught her at something.
And he had, and she had to explain it away, somehow. “Sometimes I see rainbows…I mean auras around people. One day I saw a real dark aura around you. That’s all.”
He gave her a penetrating look, his glass-blue eyes shadowed by dark, now glittered with reflection of her lie.
So she added, “And I saw your drawings of guns shooting and kids running out of the school, remember?”
Jeffery’s smirk grew more intense and his eyes half closed as if he still didn’t believe her. “So, what does my aura look like right now?”
Surprised, Maria took another look at him, but had to admit that she couldn’t see it right now. “Its too dark here in the garage to see it.”
“It should be lighting up the sky right now.”
He reached over with is strong arms and snuggled his face next to her own and whispered, “What color is love?”
Maria melted into him. She wanted to merge her own body into his, become one with him beneath the glow of the moon through the window. They stayed that way, tangled together for the longest time, until the door to the house opened and a bright light on them.
They both blinked.
“Time to come in the house now, Maria. Your boyfriend needs to leave now,” her father said through the back door and began flickering the back porch light on and off, as if she hadn’t seen or heard him.
It seemed the hardest thing she’d ever done, untangling herself from Jeffery’s arms. She heard his breath catch and then a long sigh. She felt it too, but stood up.
“I’ve got to go in now. See you in school tomorrow?”
Jeff didn’t answer as he turned away, then half way out of the yard, he turned back and said, “Sure.”
He was gone and Maria was left with her night dreams.
Riala saves a child
As the modern world progressed, so did the potential for accidents, pondered Riala, and below on her monitor was a great tragedy about to happen. She stepped down to earth in spirit form and prayed she was up to the challenge.
The two year old was sitting behind the car playing hide-an-seek with her baby doll. She set the rag doll down behind the big wheel and then would go around the other wheel and count 1 3 4 5 8 here I come, ready or not. She hung her dolls baby blanket on the back rim of the car. When she was done hiding, she went to get the baby doll from under the car just as her father came outside to run an errand. He was in a hurry because the game was playing on the radio and he didn’t want to miss it.
The father had already started the car and was about to put the gear into reverse when Riala angel yelled into his ear as loudly as she could, “Wait a minute.”
But like most
adults, he refused to hear her plea. Desperate to save the child’s life, she
gathered up as much God energy as she could and used her mind to actually move
a solid object, the
The father put the gear in neutral and bent down to retrieve the statue that had fallen near the gas pedal. “The wife will get angry if I break her statue”.
Just then the father saw his daughter run from behind the car. She must have heard him talking. Now she stood near the closed door with her tiny arms up waiting for a hug and kiss.
He got out of
the car on trembling legs, and after giving her hugs and kisses, thanked
Louis goes to
Betty’s son, Louis was bored. His mother was working the weekend at some conference so he had to stay at his grandma’s house. His friend wasn’t home either and Louis needed something to do.
“Please Uncle Mark, please. I want to go with you. I’ll polish your shoes. I promise.” Louie begged. “I promise.”
Mark looked down at his nephew. “You're still a little squirt, too young to go where I am going. You're ma would string me up by the feet if I let you go.”
“Mom ain't here. She's working at school till 4:00. How would she know?”
Louie admired his Uncle Mark. Mark was mean and tough. All the kids in school envied him because he had an uncle with a bullet in his head.
Uncle Mark looked down, coldly thinking out the angles, yes or no. Maybe the kid’d be an asset at the meeting. He looked so innocent, who would think anything was going down with a kid there, and just maybe it would keep their angry voices low and the police away from the door. Can’t get a word in edgewise with all the damn shouting. Anger is useful, but only when they we are ready to make the move. It is time to show Red that we mean business, that our group is ready to boogie.
He took in a breath and squinted down at his nephew. “Ok, grab your jacket and let's go.”
Louie kept up a constant chatter as they took the bus down Jefferson into
He’d wanted to see the place that all the adults talked about. He wished he lived in Paradise Valley6 with the famous people like Billy Holliday, Louie Armstrong, and lots of others. Louie began lagging slightly behind his uncle because his stride was small compared to Mark’s long legged one.
Mark yelled back at him, “Shut that mouth up.”
When Louie continued to ask questions, even after the warning, Mark stopped dead in his tracks, turned around and said, “Shut up or I'll shut you up. Don't care what your mommy says.”
Louis stopped talking as soon as Mack stopped, turned, and gave him that look.
Swearing under his breath, Mack turned and continued his fast pace down the street. I didn’t swear at the kid. Can’t say that I did. He knew he had to keep the swearing to a minimum around his nephew. Betty had laid down the law right away, soon as he got out of the hospital. She used her big sister stern voice, “Keep that bad mouth clean around my son, or else.”
She didn’t say what else would be, but she could turn their mother against him and he needed the bit of money she gave him from her savings. Need to stay on the good side, especially with what is going to happen in about two months. So he had to control himself around the kid. I try, Sis, I really do try, but he’s likely to get an ear full of swear words at the meeting. Reason I brought the brat, so they’d keep it down. Not my fault if he hears something. Betty’s face swam in front of his mind. I’ll tell the kid to block his ears. He hoped Louie didn’t hear anything really bad this day. The men would need to keep it down so the kid didn’t hear their plans, which would serve Mark’s needs perfectly. Damn the kid would jump out of his boots if he knew what was really going on. His big Uncle Mark gonna be a famous leader, sure enough.
Louie did stop talking so he could give all his attention to the homes and businesses as they walked by. His eyes gapped at the sights and sounds of Hastings Street, once a grand place, everybody said, but it looked dingy and dirty to him, as if was all wrapped up in a pall of smoke, ready to burn. Louie smiled at his own joke. Cause just about every person on the street was standing around smoking a cigarette at the entrance of store-fronts or porch steps. Jazz music leaked from behind upstairs windows as they walked past some stores. One had the boogie woggie playing loud and Louie began to skip and dance as he walked.
Grandma Beau, in one of her talking moments, talked to him about her proud
past, about all the really big musicians and singers like Louie Armstrong, and
Johnnie Lee Hooker, and Ella Fitzgerald and so many that he couldn’t remember
all their names. Grandma with her eyes
looking far off as if she was looking right at what she was telling him about,
said “Up and down. You see, one is above
Louie had smiled; it all played good to Louie’s eyes and ears. He knew Black Bottom had turned bad and wasn’t good for nice folks, he’d heard his grandma speak about it as if she was trying to shake something off, but never quite made it. “That place loaded with nothing but crime and gamboling now,” She’d say, “Why anybody want to go there, don’t know?”
He heard his grandma talk to Mark one day. “It’s not a good place anymore. If ain’t nothing there, why you need to go?”
Louie didn't hear Mark's answer, probably cause there wasn't one or he mumbled it, but Mark must have won cause he kept going. Grandma could be tough when she wanted to be, but Mark was tougher or more stubborn. Grandma didn't like anything that was fun. Louie had figured that out when she turned off the record player that day, even with his friends over. Louie loved his grandma Beau, but grandmas were old fashioned, all the kids knew that.
His thoughts jumped back to the street and his eyes bugged out as they walked past a women who had her two breasts hanging almost out of her white silk blouse. Mark sent her a sharp whistle. When Louie tried to whistle it came out a squeak. The lady came up to him and patted his head. “Sweet little thing. What you doing following Mean Man Mark?”
She walked on before Louie could answer.
Finally, when Mark turned a sharp left, and stopped at a green, worn door, on the side of the bar, Louis almost bumped into him. Mark knocked six times, in a rat a tat pattern, the gang's secret signal, Louie guessed. When the door opened, and he got a glimpse inside, he felt excitement thrill through his body. He knew that this place would be one he'd never forget. Green gambling tables, dark walls and a lot of whiskey bottles, back-lit and lined up across the bar. Louie had never been in a real bar before. He held in his disappointment as they walked through the bar and didn’t stop until they got to a dingy back room. Well, maybe the meeting will be interesting.
Louis isn’t
welcome
Red watched
Mark enter with his little brother. A little kid might put a damper on things.
Not what he wanted. He wanted to keep the men riled up and looking for
leadership from Mark. Mark needed to be the biggest and loudest mouth, the one
who spoke out against the white people the most. Mark's ideas had drawn the
others together. With the continued mistreatment of
When he saw how the older brother grabbed hold
of the kids arm and told him to keep his eyes and ears shut, Red felt relieved.
He should have known. Mark was too wound up to let anyone stop him now. Red
smiled.
His role as
a white Irish business man selling arms gave him the excuse to dislike white
people too, weren't the Irish beaten down too?
No one seemed to think it strange that a man with red hair took the side
of the
Red sent a burst of anger into Marks mind just before his speech to the men gathered around in the dingy room. Mark was easy to manipulate because he was always in pain. A hurting man was an angry man. Red smiled and sent an invisible finger into Mark's head, twisted it around a fraction, where the bullet lay in its bed of brain matter.
Mark squinted his eyes and stood still for a minute as he felt the constant pain sharpen into a roar, but as soon as the pain abated, he looked at his following of men and began his speech.
“We got a right to stand up for ourselves. Stand up for our black brothers down south. Stand for freedom. They be hanging our brother down south." He told them as he wiped the sweat of anger off his face with the back of his hand. He glanced over at Red who stood waiting by the side wall and felt encouraged when Red nodded.
"How long it be before they start hanging
us up here in the North?"
A whole room full of men, different body sizes,
different shades of dark faces, all looked up at Mark up on the podium with
angry blistering eyes. They hung on every word that came out of Mark's mouth.
"We now have a solution. A way to solve our
problem."
Red chuckled as he realized once more that Mark was a born preacher. He'd promised Red that he could get the money they needed for the guns from the men, no matter how poor they were, that they'd all want to be a part of this revolution. He’d been right, but Red wasn't too surprised when they scraped up the money. He was a little surprised they'd bought guns from a white man, even if his hair was red and his face pure Irish. They tolerated him because the Irish were pushed down too. Red could read any of the minds in the room, if he took the time to do so, but it was easier to note body movements as a measure of emotion, and this group was heating up. The group had become all one piece, easy to read, like an open book.
It was what people deserved, wasn't it? Red
only provided the justice people craved, nothing else. He always made sure
people got back what they gave, sort of a Godless justice. He chuckled at his
own insight.
I am innocent. I never do anything wrong. It is always the aggrieved person, the runt who can't stand being pushed any more into finally taking up a gun or setting off the bomb, or the coward who finally changed his yellow stripe to red. Those were the people who now sat on death row. He hardly ever needed to act, people did the acts for him. These lowest of the low, these men who want to bring justice to their race, will cause riots and mayhem, smash windows and homes all in the name of freedom. Tissue paper, all of it. And the minds gathered here in this room are as weak as strawberry gelatin being stirred with a spoon. Red grinned into the angry crowd.
A few days ago, he had been in a similar room
speaking to white people who were afraid that
He'd lectured his dark angels to follow his
example. You seldom need to do anything against a human. They will do it
quickly enough for themselves with just a little prodding. Yesseree, the right
nudge, and they'll do what needs to be done all by themselves. If only the
different races and cultures on earth could see how similar they truly were.
Lucky for my purpose they can't see past their own nose.
One man yelled out, “What I want to know is how come we just took it? Why'd we let the white man stare us down like that? We're taller, bigger and have as much right to work a job as the white man.”
Another man, “I got relatives down in those southern states where everything is separate, separate wash basins, separate seats, separate lines. They'll be changing it up here too before long. You wait and see."
"We ain't gong to let that happen. Sure
enough not." Every head in the room nodded and began yelling the same chorus.
“What you going to do about it? That's the
question,” Mark threw at them as soon as the room quieted down a little. “We
need to set a date. We got the equipment now."
The room quieted at the mention of the “E…equipment."
A few of the men acted like they wanted to leave as if they were half ashamed of the guns they knew were hidden in the back room. The word gun was hardly ever mentioned, but they'd all pitched their few pennies to buy them and wait for the right time. Not to shoot, just to show how serious they were.
Red picked up a few odd drifts of worry about the guns mixed in with anger. He'd practically given the guns away. Damn cheap, considering. But that was no matter. He smiled. Wait until they move, then it would be time to get out of this town before things hit the fan. But really, he was enjoying himself so much, he thought he might stick around for the fireworks.
Louis finds
dangerous equipment
To Louis, the back room had turned out horrible. The walls had crac ks and pealing paint, but the men sitting around on odd chairs and stools were kind of interesting, which made up for the bleakness of their surroundings. One man wore a white hat and suit, a serious contrast against the dirty splotches on the walls. Louie smiled at one man, really ugly, with hair flying all over his head like he was too lazy to comb or braid it. Another man, youngish and tall, so tall he bent over the stool like he needed to keep his head down, but like the rest, he looked up at his uncle for answers, as if he was a king or something. Louis felt proud, but he didn’t like the angry words his uncle spoke, so he shut his ears to them.
It didn’t take long to get bored as the meeting dragged on. Louis began to realize he didn’t like all the men. Especially, the man with a chalk white face and slicked back red hair, the one wearing a black suite, and skinny white shoes, so shinny they reflected the whole room. The man stood very still and didn’t act like the others. Scary, Louis thought.
Finally, bored with the angry faces shouting hate words, Louis’s eyes kept sliding down to those shinny white shoes to get away from the jabber that didn’t seem to go anyplace. Those shoes were the cleanest things in the whole room. Louis felt a poem coming on about them, clean white shoes in a dark place. He hoped he’d still remember the idea when he got home.
He had to hand it to his uncle, he was the loudest and most angry of the whole crowd. Louis’s boredom reversed itself when his uncle moved to the center, about to punch a man in the nose, but the commotion died down quickly, and Louis looked around for something to do, anything.
He hoped off the bench, and walked behind the men standing around in the large storage room to look for something to kill the time. He went down a short hall and stepped into an odd room filled with boxes of equipment and stacks of glasses and napkins for the bar out front. Just before he ducked into a new room to explore, he looked back down the narrow hall at the meeting. His uncle was so busy talking loud and yelling with the others, he didn’t notice he’d left, so Louis felt free to keep exploring.
A small, dusty room off to the right of the hall had about ten wooden boxes stacked high, made out of wooden slats stapled together. Straw stuck out from between a few cracks. Ah, buried treasure. Louis pushed at the top but it wouldn’t budge, so he pulled some of the straw from the side of the crate and bent down to peer inside. Something shinny and black. He pulled out more handfuls of straw determined to get at the treasure and got back on his knees to look in the hole, pulling out more straw. Something fell out of the straw and clanged near where he was kneeling. A roll of paper with bullets spilling out? He didn’t pay the bullets too much attention right then because what was still inside the box made him jump up in shock.
The box was filled with shinny black guns, maybe machine guns, the kind of guns that Al Capone used in the movies, the kind that they pointed and kept shooting even after everyone was dead. Maybe I seen them wrong. Afraid now, but still curious, Louis went to another box and pulled out more straw. More guns, but they were smaller, small enough to fit in a coat pocket.
Now Louis felt scared. He was standing in a room filled with guns, enough guns to kill a lot of people. Quickly he scrabbled around and started grabbing at the straw he’d thrown on the floor and began to shove it back into the wooden crates. The spilled bullets wouldn’t all fit easily back in between the straw so he shoved what was left over into the pockets of his jacket. When he stood up to leave the room, he felt and hard the bullets clang together in his pocket, but he was too afraid to slow down now, so he shoved some of the straw in to pad the bullets.
All he could think of now was that he needed to get away from this room before anyone saw him. On his way out, he thought to brush away the dust on the floor with a bit of straw to hide his tracks before he scampered out of the room. He wanted to run down the hallway, but didn’t dare or he’d get noticed. Instead, he prayed, “Please God, help, make me invisible.”
Louie was too scared to laugh at his silly prayer. What is my uncle up to? The few of the words he’d heard while sitting with the group came back to him with full force, black power, whitey, revolution. What they gonna do? Start a war against white folk?
Louis heard his uncle call his name; he began to shake. He stayed quiet as he stepped out of the hallway. He saw the bathroom right next to the hallway with its door ajar and ran inside quickly.
He could still hear his uncle calling for him as he quickly flushed the toilet, slammed the door open, then closed it again as loud as he could, calling out, “I am coming. I am coming.” He walked out pretending to pull up his zipper.
“Damn, fool kid. I been calling you for an hour. You fall in or something? I got me a score to settle. We are leaving, right now. Let’s go.”
When he didn’t move fast enough, his uncle grabbed him by the arm. “Come on. I got to get you home before your momma knows we been gone.”
Louie thought he heard the bullets clink together, and began shaking again.
“Hey, man, you don’t gotta treat your brother so mean like. Look, you got him shaking.”
“Mind your own business.” Mark and yanked at Louis’ arm harder, “And he ain’t my brother.”
“Ow.” Louis said and meekly followed his uncle. He was real happy to be leaving the place, the adventure of a lifetime now turned ugly and dirty.
“Come on, then.”
On the way out, a few of the members shook hands by sliding their hands against each others, slick like. Louis never seen anyone shake hands like that before. Must be a secret signal. The special hand shake seemed real friendly and nice; maybe his uncle didn’t know about the guns. Should he mention the crate of guns? No, because he’d be in trouble either way. At the thought, his knees began to shake badly, he almost couldn’t take the next step.
“Come on, Didn’t I say. We gotta go,” His uncle said as he turned to go out the door.
“Yes, sir.” Louis said and ducked so his uncle couldn’t hit his head in a playful way that wouldn’t be very playful. Louis couldn’t wait to get home to the safety of his bed and his own favorite box, and maybe he wouldn’t write that poem about white shoes after all. The only thing in his head on the way home was those shinny bullets stuffed between the straw in his pocket.
Louis decided to put the bullets in his box at home. His mom never looked
in it because she called his collection, junk. It wasn’t junk. His box held a
few coins, special from
He kept thinking of the things in his box until they got on the bus. By then, there was new faces and buildings to notice. He wasn’t bored anymore, but he still wanted to get back to grandma’s house. He wanted his mom to give him a big hug and hoped she’d be home early. Lots of times she had to stay late and study. Please ma, he begged, just come home on time tonight.
Chapter
9
Betty notices that son is acting strange
Until recently, Betty refused to allow Louis to stay home alone, even for the short hour it usually too her to get home from teaching. "You are still too young," she told him, a million times.
“But mom, I am twelve years old, almost a teenager.”
“Don’t matter. Too many crazy people out there.”
“But I’d stay right in the apartment. I won’t go out, I promise.” He said.
“No matter.”
She’d stayed firm on that subject through months of his begging. She loved him too much to take any chance that he’d get in danger. Some stranger could knock and he wouldn’t know what to do. That’d be the end of it. No sir, my son will stay supervised until he’s...? Here, her thoughts stuttered. How old eighteen? Guess I can’t do that. She had eventually given in and let him stay home alone once when he had a lot of homework.
This day, she’d called for him and picked him up at her mother’s house as usual. Mother and son were walking home together, not hand in hand anymore like when he was little, she understood his need for separation, smiling at the thought. She taught students who were almost Louis’ age with the same need to act independent, perhaps a form of budding bravery. Louis carried his homework and she carried her own briefcase.
“Guess we both got work to do tonight.” She smiled down at Louis.
He didn’t even look up at her. He seemed preoccupied about something. She let it go. I won’t pick on him. What ever it is, he’ll tell me eventually. She prided herself on their close relationship. She thought about her own problems and wished they could be small like when she was a young child. Her wages were just fine. She remembered when she first finished her classes, and needed to student teach, without pay. They lived with her mother then, thank God because she didn’t get any pay for six months. Lord knows what they’d a done if they had to pay rent. She got through it with flying colors, and she’d gotten through this Master’s course too, with hard work in the schools and hard research at home, research she’d be handing in a few days.
I promised my baby when he was born I make a good life for him and became a certified teacher by the time he got to grade school. And in a few days, I’ll have my Master’s in education. That should open a few doors.
They were at their own apartment door. She turned the key and went in to plop on the chair. “I'll fix us something to eat soon, baby. Let me rest first.”
“That's ok, mom. I got something I gotta do anyway, Louie said, his voice unusually quiet. He almost ran to his tiny bedroom. When he was little, his bedroom was a blanket pulled across one end of her own bed. Now he had a room all his own and Betty was proud she'd achieved that much.
Right then, Louie wasn’t concerned about his own room. He pulled his box out from under the mattresses that made up his bed. He added the handfuls of straw from his pockets and the bullets. As he looked at the bullets, he felt scared. He liked his uncle, but maybe he’d need to stay away from now on. What if someone noticed that the guns were disturbed or that a few bullets were missing? Louis needed comfort right then, so he rummaged inside his box to maybe pull a few of its contents, but his hands still shook, so he closed and taped it then slid it back beneath the mattress. What if those angry men come after me? What if they learn what I seen?
Bet there were enough guns in those boxes to kill a whole city. Bad, real bad. Uncle Mark, of all people, should be afraid of guns, him with a bullet in his head. He used to think his uncle was the bravest man he knew, but after hearing him brag about the bullet in his head to those men at the meeting, Louie wasn’t so sure of his uncle’s bravery. His pride had begun to sound like sour lemons. Now all Louie could feel for his uncle was shame and fear; yet, he had to act normal, pretend that he still looked up to him. It’ll be hard, but I gotta do it. If Mark or any of those men found out he’d seen the guns, my butt would be cooked, maybe dead.
He remembered Mr. Brown's black and white dog, Spotty. It got shot with a bullet and lay panting and screaming real bad. Mr. Brown had tears in his eyes and had to go borrow a rifle from someone before he could put Spotty out of his misery. What if a lot of people were like that, laying in the grass, gasping and screaming cause they had a bullet in them. Louie shuddered. He made a quick sign of the cross.
Please, God. What can I do? Maybe I should tell mom? Oh, no. Can't do that. Uncle would kill me. He might shoot me, himself, if I told mom. Even more frightened now, Louis lay down on his bed and curled his legs up and hugged himself. He began to cry a little and quickly wiped away the tears. I ain't no baby. Ain't gonna cry. No. He nodded off to sleep and refused to eat dinner that evening.
Betty waits for
Louis
This was a good day. Betty had finally handed in the final paper for her Masters and now she could sit back and relax. She promised herself that she would take Louis out to eat to celebrate tonight. She’d had to tell Mary that she couldn’t go to the party. It would have been nice and she could have met important people, but she was worried about Lou. He’d seemed so unsettled lately. She’d hinted at a surprise this morning before they both left for school, She to her class in English although her major had been in history, and he to the seventh grade at Rouge High. He was smart for his age and did well in school, she’d seen to that, at least. His problem wasn’t with school but with home, my brother, to be specific.
She chased the thought out of her mind. Tonight, it will be just me and Louis, he hates to be called Louis, or so he informed me last week. She smiled at the memory. That little rebellion was normal and she could handle it. “I promise to try and remember to call you Lou instead of Louis, she’d told him, but I refuse to call you Bang.” Betty laughed to take the sting away from her objection. “When did such a dumb nick-name start and how?”
Louis smiled too, then laughed. “Cause I am always banging the basket ball, and when Mo hit my head with the ball, I told him to quit banging me with the ball. So Mo started calling me Bang and then the other kids did too.”
They both laughed at how silly it was and Betty repeated her admonition to stay away from his nick-name. Louis didn’t seem to mind.
He knew she was finished with her Masters this evening and she expected Lou to be waiting in front of the television set for her. He wasn’t home. She called to her mother’s and learned that Louis had been there but had left.
“Mack isn’t here either, her mother said or I’d ask him about Louis.”
“You sure
they didn’t go together?” Betty asked, suddenly afraid for her son.
“I don’t know Betty. I try to keep them apart, you know I do. I know Mark isn’t
a good influence. You don’t need to tell me.”
Her mother’s voice seemed unsteady as if she wanted to cry. Betty put a false smile in her voice, “I am not blaming you ma. It was just that I finished school just now; handed in my last paper and I expected Louis to be here to celebrate with me. I’ll wait for him. He might show up yet.”
Betty sighed and looked up to heaven asking “What is wrong with that boy?” but of course, God didn’t answer and Louis didn’t come home until it was dark outside and way past dinner or even bedtime. Betty was so angry and hurt she didn’t even yell. She just handed him a peanut and butter sandwich, glass of milk, and sent him to bed.
By then, she was done crying and had sat down with a good fiction book, relishing her freedom from study. She concentrated as best she could, but at the turn of every new chapter, her mind once again faced the problems of her wayward son. She went to bed wearing the huge worry of Louis and woke up with the same worry in the morning.
Louis storms out
The next evening, after picking at his dinner, scooting the peas around in his plate and taking two bites of greens, Betty gave up begging him to eat. She stood up and began the dishes, handing Louis a towel. She had her hands in hot soapy dish water and put a cup in the rinse water and handed it to Louis, but then had to grab hold of the edge of the sink because Louis, for no apparent reason, had thrown down dish towel, slammed a cup he'd been wiping on the counter. He stepped back and yelled, “I ain't doing no more stupid dishes,” and stomped out the kitchen door, slamming it so hard the whole house shook.
“You get back here, this minute. You hear me boy?”
Then Betty shook at her own words as she stood at the sink. Those are the same words her own mother had yelled at her when she was a few years older than Louie. Oh, lord, I am turning into my mother. She thought back to her own tantrums as a teenager. But wasn’t she older, like sixteen or seventeen before she got angry enough to dare talk back, and then she was well out the door before she mumbled anything back. Louie is too young for tantrums. It must be my brother’s fault; it is his influence that is destroying my family. First my mother who just the other day, hard nosed and tough as she is, came over to visit, crying and sobbing. That stupid Mark is hurting her badly. I wouldn’t be able to stand it either, all that moping around, loud mouthing, then busy as a bee doing nothing at all. Pacing, that’s what he’s doing, just pacing. I’d go nuts too. Mom says he winds himself up, curses everyone, paces back and forth, then stomps out of the house. She can’t help feeling relief when he leaves, except for the fear that he is in real trouble this time. She doesn’t know where he goes in such a state, but she is afraid for him.
Myself, I am so pissed off at his antics I am about ready to kill him. Especially the way he has taken over Louis. My baby worships the ground that jerk walks on.
She waked into the living room and called her mother to ask if anything strange was going on with Mark right now.
“Honey, something is always going on strange with Mark. I don’t know what to do about him. I am just glad he’s gone most of the time. Said he’s moving out soon.”
Gone with my baby. Gone wreaking my family and my son’s life, that’s what he is doing. She didn’t tell her mother her thoughts.
“I want to know when Mark comes home. I want to talk to him. Will you call me?”
“He told me he is moving out. Going to live with some no-good friend, no doubt. I think they got something going. Don’t know what. I gotta tell you Betty, I am worried about Mark. He’s gonna get in deep trouble, way over his head one of these days.”
Already over his head, in my book, Betty thought, but only said good-by to her mother, hung up and went back into the kitchen to finish the dishes. She was still seething, and felt a cage of frustration closing in around her. Bending over the sink, tears of anger slid down her cheeks to mix in with the sweat of the hot steam from the dish water. “That’s enough.” She took a deep breath, stepped away from the sink, and sat down on the painted wooden chair next to the table.
She sat down too hard and the back leg fell off again. Then she cried harder. Herself sitting on the floor, wiping her eyes with a dirty wet dishrag. How do you raise a kid who don’t want to be raised. Why is it so hard? And he isn’t even a teenager yet. I have a Masters in education and can’t raise my own kid.
For a minute, Betty wondered if she had cared about her career more than her own son. Is that why he is so rebellious? I didn't spend enough time with him? No, I know I did. Only went part time to college because of him, well and the money too. I did do a good job and it showed, up until Mark came home. Me and my son were good friends, the best of pals. Even mom said that.
Sandi shows Betty a photo
Betty was still sitting on the floor when someone knocked at the back window. She turned her tear streaked face towards the door and saw Sandi's face through the glass, frightened almost out of her wits. “Oh, no, what now?”
“What happened? Did Mark hit you?” Sandi asked as she flew through the door to
where Betty was sitting. “Let me help you up.”
“I'll get myself up, thank you and no body hit me.”
Then Betty saw an image of herself in her mind and realized how she must have looked, sitting on the floor with her legs spread out from her skirt, holding on to a wet dishrag, with a broken chair behind her, and she began to giggle. Then the giggles turned into roaring laughter.
“Oh, lord, oh, lord.”
Now she was laughing so hard, she couldn't get up. Tears were still falling, but this time, tears of laughter.
All the while, Sandi stood over her wearing a puzzled frown. Her tight curls were messed up bad because she was rubbing the side of her head and twirling her curls, which is what she did when she was nervous.
Betty thought she had control of herself, but then wondered what her own hair looked like, and roared with laughter once more.
“I know it ain’t
funny. Lord, I know it ain’t, but it is
better to laugh than cry, ain’t it?” She looked up at Sandi as if for
confirmation of this truth.
Sandi silently picked up the chair, screwed the chair leg back on, then sat down on it. “Can you get up now and let me in on what is so funny?”
By now, Betty was ok. She got up and sat across from Sandi. The table was small and Sandi reached her hands over to take Betty's in her own. “Did something good or bad happen?”
“Nothing much. Another
row with Louie, the second this week. Then when I went to sit down the chair
fell apart and…” here Betty almost started to laugh again.
Sandi said, “I think I know. Because it hurt and was silly at the same time.” She laughed. “You did look ridiculous sitting on that dirty floor with a wet dish rag in your hand.”
“Want a cup of
coffee? I am ready for one.” Betty asked
her.
“Sure.”
“Sandi,” Betty asked as she run water in the tin tea kettle and put it on the burner to heat, “How come you never throw tantrums? You are only a few years older than Lou, why are you so good?”
Actually I am almost six years older, remember? Besides, I am a girl and girls are smarter than boys?
“You may have a point.” Betty said with a smile. “I guess the big difference is that you respect your mother. You’re an only child, but so is my Louis.”
“You know Louis respects you. He’s always been so nice. What happened?”
“He started to change when my brother Mark, came home from that hospital, and this last week, he’s become impossible, throwing things, stomping around, or staying in his room with the lights off, which is even worse.”
“I am sorry.”
“Sorry, ain’t gonna solve nothing. Wish now Mark had stayed right where he was. And mom said the same thing the other day, and you know your Aunt Beau, she has always bent over backwards for Mark letting him do anything he wanted. He must have done something real bad to make her cry. But she says she still loves him dearly. All she’d say was that ‘He’s his own man now, and he can do what he wants,’ what ever that means.”
“A no good man is what he is got to, maybe a real bad one.” Sandi said.
“But he used to be so soft and nice. He liked to read a lot; Louis did too until recently. Now, Louis wants to be just like him. My Louis has gotten so belligerent I don’t rightly know what I can do about it. I have been so busy just trying to finish school, pay the rent and keep food in the house. Now my baby’s got to make me a new problem, ifin I ain’t had enough already.”
“You don't sound much like a teacher right now.” Sandi said taking a sip of her coffee and frowning. She pulled over the sugar bowl and put in two more spoons.
Usually, Betty made a comment about her using too much sugar, but this day, she didn’t pay any attention. All she said in answer was, "Guess when my emotions get the better of me, I forget all that college learning.”
Both of the women smiled because they'd seen it happen a lot of times with other educated people. Hard to erase a lifetime of slang with just a few years learning.
“So, tell me Sandi, why are you so good?”
“I think it’s because I need to be. My mom’s getting real old too, plus having a nephew with a bullet in his head doesn’t help. His actions hurt the whole family, not just you and Aunt Beau. I don’t want to put any more problems on her. Know what your brother did at our house last week with the whole ham?”
“Came over late at night, asked for something to eat, as if he didn’t have enough food at home with Aunt Beau cooking and all, took the ham out of the fridge, cut off a few slices, then left. Never did put it back in the fridge, and by the time anyone noticed, it had sat out all night. Wasn’t fit for the dog, after that.”
“I’ll bet Aunt Mary was real mad.” The image of Aunt Mary, who always kept everything in order and neat as a pin, waking up to such a sight tickled Betty. “I’ll bet you could hear her cuss across the street.”
“Sure could. It upset her bad. She won’t come out of her room if Mark comes over now. I won’t be the one tell her how Mark’s influence is hurting Louis. Don’t want to put more worry on her.”
“No, don’t do that. I am sorry my mother has to put up with it every day, but he might be moving out soon.”
They both sat in silence for a while, sipping their coffee.
“Oh, I forgot why I came,” Sandi said. “I wanted to show you the photos.” Sandi dug into her purse and pulled out a folder of small Polaroid photos. Want to show you the pictures I took at the game.”
“You did go then. Did your friend pay your way, or did you pay his? “
When Sandi didn't answer, Betty let the subject drop. No matter.
Sandi worked part time at the soda fountain on
Sandi opened the folder and spread the photos on the table. Photos from the famous Globe Trotter game. Must have cost a lot of money to get in.
“It was so great. How do they do it? Did you ever see them?”
“I saw them once, when they were just starting out. You're right. They are great. The players are so good that no professional team will accept them.”
“They'd win every time, wouldn't they?” Sandi said.
Betty picked up one of the photos, squinted her eyes and looked real hard at it once more. She became real quiet as she held the photo. It showed a few of the Globe Trotters players reaching high for the basket ball, about to throw it in the net. Behind and to the side, in the crowded bleachers, was a small face that Betty remembered from many years ago, a face she knew she could never forget.
Chapter 10
After Sandi leaves
After Sandi left, Betty felt sorry she had told Sandi about how she’d found Maria as a baby, but it felt good telling another person, and at least, she’d kept quiet about Maria’s talents. Those should remain a secret. Still, she sat thinking about little Maria, certainly not so little now, she must be a teenager about the same age as Sandi because it was Sandi’s milk bottles she stole to feed Maria. Baby Moses, Betty smiled as she sipped her coffee and wistfully imagined Maria’s life now. She wondered if Maria's grades were good and decided that with her talent; they had to be, didn’t they? Or had she lost all her powers? Betty wondered if Maria could remove that bullet in her brother’s head. She’d seen her do amazing things. Yes, she probably could.
The more she thought about the idea, the more it struck her as something that could happen. Dare she ask Maria to remove the bullet from Mark’s brain? The doctors were afraid to remove it. Maybe it would kill Mark even if Maria did it? After causing her all this worry, Betty was beginning to wonder if she cared. Give up Mark to save her son, a good trade-off. Then she shook her head to clear it. What am I thinking? Stop it. Yet, she couldn’t let the idea go and kept imagining Maria pulling that bullet out of Marks brain.
Would
Maria be glad to see her? Would she
remember her? Dare she ask? Then she shook her head. Impossible dream. Maria had been a young child when she’d seen
her last. She won’t remember an assistant teacher lady who once knew her. Especially the way people are so separate
today and have such funny notions when it comes to race.
She’d had to fight for every inch to get educated while some white people just sailed easily through the system. She’d had to study hard, work on the side, and side-line a few roving professor hands. The pride of finally becoming a teacher didn’t last very long. It broke when she learned that the top of the pinnacle she worked so hard for had a hierarchy stiff with bias, other teachers always maneuvering for position, and the pay was horrible. It meant that she had to keep pushing ever upwards towards a higher education. She’d always wanted to give her son the better things in life; didn’t want him to struggle just to get through school or be embarrassed because of his ratty shoes like she’d been, but finally she’d gotten her masters. But what now? Let her son follow Mark and fall on his face? Not if she could help it. Maria would help, she knew she would, but first I need to find her.
She felt tired and was
glad tomorrow was Saturday. She sat at
the kitchen table, her hair all mussed, her make-up worn off, her nerves frayed
with worry about her son, when she heard a noise in the back. Did Louie slip
in?
“That you Louis?”
No answer.
She cocked her head to
listen close. There it was again. She looked around for a weapon. Nothing, except the black steel frying pan
still on the stove burner. She grabbed
it up and stood in the kitchen for a few minutes longer. No sound now.
But I gotta know. She slipped out
of the kitchen holding the heavy fry pan with both hands. It was heavy but she could swing it if need
be. She silently crept down the darkened
hall. She dare not turn on the light; it
would alert someone if they were back there.
Or maybe she should? Scare them
away?
Ok, quit. I haven't heard
anything for a while. No one here, probably. She settled her nerves and opened
the bathroom door first. The bathroom was empty. She went into her own bedroom
next, opening the door real slow. She didn't see anyone. Then she heard a plunk
from the other room.
She hefted the frying pan
over her head, left her bedroom door standing open and went across the hall,
geared herself to act, opened Louis' bedroom door and took a single step past
the doorway, ready to swing the heavy steel frying pan at a moment's
notice. His room was darker because the
blinds were closed but she could see someone squatted down in front of the
dresser.
Betty gulped, gathered up
her courage, and was about to swing the heavy pan down on the intruder's head
when Louis screamed.
“No, mom, don't. It's
me.”
Betty dropped the pan and
it crashed to the wooden floor with a loud thump.
“Oh, my God. I could’a killed you. What you doing squatting down like that? And sneaking into your own room?”
Then she saw the old
battered brown suitcase he'd been putting his cloths into, felt the breeze from
the opened window, noticed the streaks of tears running down his face, and knew
something had gone real wrong, real wrong.
She plopped down on the
floor next to her son, grabbed him into her arms and began to rock back and
forth, like when he was a little baby.
When he struggled for release, she wouldn’t let him go, but held on even
tighter. When he finally stopped
struggling, she knew she had won for a moment, a weak victory, at best. She needed to find out what was eating away
at him, enough to make him run away from her.
Surly it wasn’t what she’d yelled at him the other night. The problem went deeper than that, bottom of
the river deeper. Something has shaken
him up real bad, and she didn’t wonder that her brother would be in the mix
someplace. I need to get to the bottom
of this and accept no excuses.
After about ten minutes,
she released her son from the tight hold she had on him, but she didn't let go
of his arms. She moved away, still holding on to him with a good grip, and
looked into his face. He had been sobbing and snot was running down from his
nose. She took the corner edge of her
apron reached over and wiped it.
“Just like I did when you
was a little boy. Oh, how you used to scream when I'd wipe your nose.”
Louis didn't smile at
this memory like usual. His face stayed
wooden. She knew something truly bad had
happened, but she also knew that he was fragile and she needed to stay calm and
get it out of him gently. She had enough
experience with students to know when to push and when to give in, didn't
she? She decided to treat Louis as if he
were one of her students, with a firm, but kind hand. She put on the same tough, solid, unmoving
look to her face that she used on all the kids in school, a face that held no
compromise and no nonsense.
“Now,
tell me exactly what you are running away from.”
She
didn't threaten, knowing that threats would force him to back up and stay
silent. She just waited for an answer and was prepared to hold him all night,
if that is what it took.
“I
can't.”
“Not
a good start. Why not?”
The
silence between them grew until Louis broke, “If I tell, it'll get people in
trouble.”
“Ah,
good, we now have a reason. What kind of trouble will they get into?”
She
kept her voice firm, but kept the anger out.
She had to play him like a piano until he sang. She had to keep repeating this advice to
herself because she felt furious and about to explode, but she held it in.
When
he stayed silent, she asked again, “What kind of trouble.”
“Police.”
He whispered.
She
felt shaken, but didn't show it. “So, ok. Police trouble. Why and who?”
“Mark’s
friends. But he don’t know,” his words
rushed out, “Bet he don’t know nothing.”
Betty
relaxed slightly and sat back on her heels. “Now we are getting someplace.”
She
was right, this involved Mark somehow, but she wisely kept silent on that
point.
“What
doesn't Mark know? Spill it.”
“Uncle
Mark will get in trouble if I tell.
Betty
was about to say, oh, not any more trouble then he’s in right now, but she let
that slide too, until later, and said, “Out with it,” In the firmest voice she
owned because she felt that her life and the life of her son depended on the
answer.
“Guns. A whole box of guns in the back room, a
wooden box.” Then Louis' nerves gave way and he began sobbing again as his
words rushed out, “I wasn't supposed to go with him to the meeting and I wasn't
supposed to look around, but I got bored and didn't know what to do so I
looked, and, and and now I am going to get Mark in trouble, and the man said he
hates whitey and says their bad and he's going to get them and Uncle Mark
laughed, and ...and... and....”
Betty
lifted the apron and wiped his nose again. “Come here.” She grabbed him once
more for a quick, tight, hug and then stood and pulled him up with her. “Come
sit on the bed with me.”
“Louis
when people are your age, they think things are unsolvable. If you did run away, how do you think that
would help? I would be frantic with
worry and no one would know why you left.
It is good that you told me.”
“Is
Uncle Mark in trouble?” Louis asked. “He doesn't know, mom, I swear.”
“You
mean he doesn't know you know. You saw real guns, Louis. He might or might not
know about them stored in the back room. Why you went with him, I'll never
know. Told you not to hang with him. But that is past. Right now we need to
deal with this issue, and we will, I promise.”
“You
gonna tell Uncle Mark that I told?'
“That's
why you were running away, wasn't it?
You couldn't face your Uncle Mark looking bad at you.”
Louis
nodded.
“It
don't matter. Some things got to be done. You understand, baby? Some things
have got to be taken care of no matter how much it hurts.”
“What
you gonna do?”
Louis had a frightened
look on his face. She hated to see it.
“I don't know what I am
going to do. I am proud of you for telling me the truth. I'll need to think
about it for a while. I need to think what to do. Ok?”
“Ok.”
She rubbed his hair like
she used to do when he was younger. “I love you and don't you ever forget. You can come to me with anything, any time,
you hear?”
He still seemed
frightened, but she could see his relief that the information was out and it
was no longer his burden. It had been
far too much for a kid to hold inside him.
Betty wasn’t sure herself what to do with the burden he’d handed her,
but she’d think of something. She’d need
to think about it and then come to a decision. Should she confront Mark? That would probably prove worthless, cause an
argument, and hurt her mother. Oh, yes,
she had a lot of thinking to do.
“You go take a bath and
get ready for bed. I'll make some cocoa and popcorn and we can watch TV. Sound
good?”
“Sure does.” Louis hopped
up and turned for a minute before going into the bathroom to run the water. “I
love you, mom.”
Betty smiled as she watched the weight lift off her son, but now it was on her, a heavy weight, the weight of revolution, unreasoning hate, and family craziness all laying on top of her own back.
Michael talks about earth
In the sky above, butterflies fluttered willy-nilly in the room as Michael spoke with Urana about the situation on earth.
“The culture, at least in the west, is drawing towards science. Many answers lay in that direction, if they don’t overdo it.”
"Which they will. You know it and I know it. We have seen it happen on many planets.”
She put out her hand for a tiny blue butterfly to land on as she continued. “And this is earth, where they seem to exaggerate everything. So why not science.”
“Yes, I agree. Still, it may be science that finally leads them to see the truth floating all around them.”
He laughed at his pun and suddenly plucked a glass filled with amber fluid out of the air and put it to his lips, as if to prove his point about the strangeness of the real world. Not that he was in it. They kept the habitat set a few seconds ahead of earth time.
"Many of our own angels can't do that," Urana commented with her own laugh.
"After being on earth for so long, I almost forget how myself." Michael said, then added, "Back to the subject of human education, we continue infusing ideas into their culture, where we can. Once on the scent, our ancestors do pretty well for themselves when an idea takes hold. Television might prove a valuable medium for this purpose.”
He leaned back on the lounge that formed to hold his back and set the glass down on a table that rose up from the floor. “We have it too easy here in the sky. I think I like it better down on earth where I need to join in the struggle for existence.”
“Remember our past struggles?" Urana said. "What our people lived through, no people should ever go through such horrors. Even now, eons later, there are some angels with mental scars.” She shuddered at the memory of her friend Jaria who’s memory seemed to get stuck in a repeating track every once in a while that threw her into horror. Their angel ability to empathize with others was a hindrance in her case. Last she’d checked, Jaria hadn’t yet recovered from her latest set back. She should check again, but why use up the energy.
Aloud, she said, "We exist as if in a bubble hanging from a leaf, our time is out of sync with both home and earth. Jaria fell into another back-slip into past horrors last I checked."
Michael understood what she meant. He often felt disjointed as to time, himself.
“The difference in time hardly effects us down on earth unless we cross time zones. I think I've been tainted by earth.” Michael said.
“You are there so often, it is no wonder. Yet, I know you are not truly tainted. No other angel can keep such a steady contact with God while down in the pea-soup of earth as well as you.”
“Maybe. I am sure you are as good as any of us."
“Even I have faltered at times. I remember an event I witnessed during WWII that tore my heart apart, I felt like I'd been raped. It hurt so badly, I lost God for a short while. I got angry at God during that blind moment because the pain was so intense, the moment is still a blur in my mind."
“Don’t think I have escaped serious tragedy and suffering, I haven't. That is why, even after teaching the younger angels about the dangers of earth and how to control their emotional pain response and deep empathy, I still haven’t given them leave to go to earth. Look what happened to Serapha. Now we have Maria to see to and keep out of the dragon’s path.
“I didn’t know you felt so strongly about it. Why did you allow Riala to go to earth then?”
Michael put his hand to his chin as he answered, as if he had to think about his answer. “She has always been mature for her age. Remember, she was the one who insisted on coming along on the trip; the younger ones just followed her lead.
“Were you able to send Serapha’s body back, or just her DNA?”
“Her body. I feel bad for her; I understood why she fell. She over empathized with the young man and finally couldn’t stand to be separated from him. I sympathized with her, but my understanding won't help her feelings of guilt.”
Urana smiled, “This trip back to earth has lasted hundreds of years already and you have lived most of them down on earth. Yet, you haven’t failed, except with Hitler.” Urana frowned at her mistake. “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up. Forget I mentioned it. I really wanted to comment on how often you must get hit with culture shock, every time you come here to the habitat, I would think.”
“That is what I meant when I agreed earth has tainted me. I think I’d rather be on earth than here. I feel bad about not stopping Hitler. If he wasn’t the dragon in disguise, it was definitely driving him. Yet, I dared not get too close, not with all the support he’d managed to build around him.”
Michael sighed. “Sometimes I wish we did have a magic bullet to use instead of only our wits.”
“And God, of course. You have great power from God.”
“Still, it is limited by choice, every human’s freedom of choice.”
“Our struggle would be worth all this great effort if we could do more for people.” Urana said.
“Free will is inviolate. If it weren’t, we could fix our primitive ancestors with the clap of a hand.”
“That would be nice. Jump from primitive cave people to super beings in one day.” Urana laughed.
“I'd like to bring one of them up here to show them what we live like just above their heads.” Michael said thoughtfully. “A few might actually understand, if given some basic information first, but very few.”
“I love the people, even if they are stubborn and backward. Well Serapha proved once again that we are still capable of mating with our ancestors. Do you think we will ever teach them to grow up, to avoid the time of horror?”
“Jesus believes we can. Predicted we would do it. Somehow, we will encourage them to change their future, at least enough so they don’t live through The Horrors like we did. It never fails to surprise me that we are trying to erase or change our own history."
"God hasn't given up and neither will we." Urana said.
“Well, I encouraged one writer with a new idea for a television show. A space ship that travels to far away planets in the universe, peopled with different forms and cultures."
“How is it working, so far?”
“It is still on television after a few earth years. So there is hope that it will continue and keep influencing some of the more far seeing people. Speculative Fiction books help and I encourage them too. Some people love them. God seems pleased with our progress."
Yet, I sometimes feel I am pushing against a brick wall." Urana said “I wonder what the dark angels will do against the television program you put in place?”
"So far, they haven't been able to kill it. Eventually, they will create one of their own with an opposite message. No doubt, monsters from space, or something similar. Anything to frighten the people, make them insecure, keep them living under their thumb.”
“That is because they will never be allowed to leave. Well, not unless or until they ask for forgiveness. They won’t lower themselves to ask and want as many humans as they can get to suffer with them. They are pulling a lot of souls their way.” Urana frowned. Then added. “They are afraid to ask God for help because they know they would need to make up for a great many sins.”
“We can work around their ploys; we are stronger.” Michael said.
“Sometimes, our power hardly seems to matter. It is vital that we turn the people towards God before they blow themselves up and kill their civilization.”
“You would think that even the dark ones wouldn’t want that.”
“Yes, but their downhill slide seems aimed for it, no matter what.”
“I feel depressed now.” Urana complained.
The butterfly had disappeared and the white room turned a light shade of gray.
Urana sensed Michael’s mood had also dampened. He wanted to be alone, as did she, after their talk about the dark angels. They knew they would win in the end, but that didn't make the battle for the middle any easier.
Chapter 11
Sandi has found Maria
Louis
was out with his friend Arnold this evening, so when she heard the kitchen door
open, she thought he had finally come home, but it was only Sandi. Sandi
wearing a smile that took up half her face.
“What
you so happy about?”
“I’ve
got a big secret.” Her wide smile was frozen in place.
“That
smile so big it’s going to crack. You’re
ready to burst, girl, so tell me.”
“You'll
never guess.”
Sandi
actually started clapping and jumping up and down. Betty's present mood wasn't
conductive to happiness, not with the heavy world of secret guns and hate
riding on her back, but she couldn't help but catch a bit of Sandi's glow.
Sighing,
Betty said, “Ain’t no guessing about it, just tell me.”
“But
you gotta guess.”
“Sandi
Plover you had better stop hemming and hawing and tell me right this minute or
I'll turn you over and spank your butt. I know how too. Don't forget I used to
spank you when you was a little bit of a girl.”
Sandi gave out a “whoop”
but finally sat down in the hard kitchen chair across from Betty, but on the
edge as if she would jump back up any minute.
Betty waited her out. She
knew Sandi would burst with the information soon enough.
“You
got a coke?”
Then she did jump up, went into the kitchen and opened
the refrigerator.
“If you can find one Louis left, you can have it. Or you
can have some orange juice. I am going to heat up the coffee, want some?”
“Yeah, guess I'll have a cup of coffee too. Then I'll tell you what I found out.”
Betty put the steel pot on the burner and got two cups
down. Sandi was always coming up with secrets that were stupid or silly, and
she was always running into one friend or another to talk about, so she wasn't
expecting any great news. Betty felt too down to care much who Sandi had run
into this time, but she didn't let on. She filled the cups with hot coffee and
milk, knowing Sandi liked hers with milk too, then sat down placing the cups on
the small wooden table.
“So tell me.”
Betty
waited patiently for Sandi to speak, supportive of her niece who she loved
dearly. Sandi finally calmed down and
took a sip of the hot coffee, but she still had a twinkle in her eyes.
Then
in a burst of smiles, she said, “I seen that girl you been talking about,
Maria.”
“You
what? How? Where?”
Now,
Betty felt her own excitement rise. Maybe she could get Maria to help save her
family. Her talent might be the only thing that might fix Mark. Could Maria do
it? Well, maybe. Betty’s mind replayed an image of Maria moving crayons and
papers around in school.
“I
don’t believe it,” Betty said with a smile, “So tell me all about it.”
“Well,
first I talked to Tony; he is the boy I went to the game with. The whole class
went but I rode in Tony’s car with a few other kids. You should see Tony's car?
Powder blue and it rides so smooth.”
“Sandi,
just get on with the story, please.”
Betty needed to know if this was real, but dare not let on to Sandi why it could be so important.
When Sandi just stood there grinning for a long moment, Betty added “Just get on with it.”
“Ok, so I showed Tony
this photo. He'd never seen her before,
of course, because all the colored folks sat on one side of the gym and the
white folks on the other side. But Tony
did know the boy Maria sat next to because he made a slam dunk that won his
team a spot on the sports page of the Rouge Harold. Tony remembered his face. Course, you know,
he's a sport nut, reads about stupid sports all the time. I hate sports, don't you?”
“Sandi,” Betty warned.
“Oh, ok. Well, we went to his house and he found the article from last month. You don't want to know about Tony's room, do you?”
“No, I do not.”
“The article said the
name of the boy’s school and Tony knows some kids from there, sort of, not a
lot because most of those kids are white.
Tony is real light and maybe that helps him fit in ok.”
“Sandi, I don’t need a
description of Tony’s skin color. I met him, remember?”
“I forgot. You did meet him, but that was before his dad bought him that scrumptious car. Anyway, he asked around his other sport friends and learned more about the boy. His name Jeffrey Washington was in the paper. Then, Tony asked if they were a couple. Someone said they were, and he asked her name. Everyone knew it because she had went to the Globe Trotter's game with the famous basket ball star of the school. I don't know if they are still going out or not, but he found out that her name is Maria Pascal.”
Here Sandi took a deep breath and then a slow sip of coffee. “Did you know what her last name was?”
“Yes, I knew her name. What I didn't know was where she moved to after River Rouge. She was only a small child then. So what city does she live in now?”
“It's not a city, but a
township.
“Oh, no. You didn't?”
“Yes, I did, to make sure
it was her, and then Tony and I drove by her house.”
Sandi jumped up from the
table with excitement.
“Her house is on a dirt road, sort of country. Maria was outside talking to another girl, so Tony honked and I waved, but we just drove on by without stopping.”
“That might have looked strange, don’t you think? Oh, but I am so happy you found her.”
“I don’t think it was strange at all. Things are getting sort of different now, at least between us kids.”
Betty stood up, went to the other side of the small table, and gave Sandi a huge hug. “I love you.”
“I got it all here on a piece of paper. Now all you gotta do is call her.”
That put a small clink in Betty’s mood. “Not sure how or what I should say. She probably doesn’t remember me anymore.”
Sobered by the thought, she refilled her cup and sat back down. Betty also had another thought that bothered her. “By the way, why did Tony give you so much help on this?”
Sandi looked sheepish, but said, “I don't know. I guess he likes you and wanted to help.”
Betty looked at her niece suspiciously, “No, I think you told him, didn't you?” Then in a sterner voice, “Didn't you?”
“But he promised not to say a word to anybody, ever. He won't, I promise.”
“Oh, baby. You don’t know what you did. Don’t you see it could ruin that girl’s whole life if she learned she was from another family?”
“It's ok to be adopted. Lots of kids are.” Sandi said in her own defense.
“What if she doesn’t know she was adopted? Actually, I don’t think she was adopted, I think she was squeezed into a family, maybe without anyone knowing about it. Guess that couldn’t be, could it?” Betty frowned as she spoke the words. She was trying to remember what her mother and Reverend Tate had said that long ago day. Something about a doctor. Her mother would know. Dare she bring the subject up again? Not right now, her mother didn’t need any more problems. Betty felt distressed now, all the joy had flown out the window with Sandi's statement.
“Now what can I do? Somehow, young lady, I need to undo what you did?”
“Look, Tony promised not to tell. Besides, what does he care about some white girl he doesn't even know. Who would he tell?”
“You have a point. It is just that I want to contact her and I don't want any thing to complicate our reunion.”
Betty smiled, “But, hey, thanks honey, you did good to find her for me. Finding Maria is more important than you know.”
So important that the life of my family may hang in the balance, but Betty didn't say this out loud.
Louis came through the kitchen door, just as Sandi was putting on her sweater to leave. Betty breathed a sigh of relief.
“Sorry mom, I forgot the time.”
Her smile was genuine, “Only by a half hour. You’re forgiven this time.”
“Hi Aunt Sandi.” he said before he left the kitchen, opening the refrigerator on his way past and grabbing an apple.
“That boy sure can eat.” Betty shook her head as if she was dismayed by the amount herself. Sandi didn’t know how anxious they had been just a few days ago with Louis wanting to run away after finding that stash of guns, nor how happy she was now that he was back hanging out with his simple school friends instead of her brother.
“Thank you God,” she whispered as she picked up the cups and Sandi’s glass and put them in the sink. Betty felt happy even though she still had her brother’s problem to solve. Just maybe she’d found a way.
All
the next day, while teaching her students, Betty composed and recomposed her
phone call to Maria. She knew she had to
consider Maria’s parents as well. What
would they think about Maria getting a phone call from a stranger, not actually
a stranger, not if she remembers me, and how does she remember me? With a
laugh, Betty wondered, Maria may not know I am a Negro. I inherited my mother’s skin, light enough to
pass for white. As a child, would she
have noticed? Well, this call is a long shot, the last hope I have. What and how should I approach her after all
these years? Not sure, not sure.
These thoughts so preoccupied her
mind during class that she became exasperated when Jeremy raised his hand for
the third time to say he didn’t understand what to do with the sentence.
Betty
took a deep breath, just before saying something she’d regret, shoved the worry
away, and put her mind back on her students, where they should have been all
along. These kids have too much to learn
for me to skip through teaching them what they need to know. She smiled at Jeremy and explained once more
about verb phrases. Then she told the
class they could have a ten minute break.
“Quiet
whispers or we go right back to work.”
Timothy
just had to jump over the desks to reach his girlfriend and Betty just had to
make him go back to his seat to stay.
Ok, no break for Timothy. He was
asking for it, needed the attention. She
mused how so many kids got in trouble because they needed extra attention. Louis’s problem was completely different. She
snapped the pencil she was holding at the thought of her brother, and then
looked at the clock, only two more classes, then home.
Betty
calls Maria
When
she got home, she decided, as much as she was dying to speak to Maria, to wait
on the call until after she fed herself and Louie’s dinner. Get my nerves together before I make the
phone call; and me a grown women, with a Masters, and I am uneasy about calling
a young teenager? Pull yourself
together. Pull it together. Still, the idea of calling up a teenager and
ask for help seemed strange, even to her.
She wavered back and forth with how to begin the conversation until
after dinner. Louis left for his friend
Arnold’s house, considerably calmed down since they’d had their mother and son
talk the other night, the talk where he put the whole damn world on my
shoulders. Just call Maria, and get it
over with.
She picked up the phone and dialed
the number from the paper Sandi had given her.
“Hello?”
a young girl said as she answered.
Betty
breathed a sigh of relief. At least she didn't need to speak to a parent, just
yet.
“Hi.
Is this Maria?”
“Yes.”
“Oh,
I am so happy I found you. Maybe you don't remember me, but I taught you in
kindergarten and you used to come and visit me sometimes.”
“I
don't think I do remember.”
“You
used to call me Betty-Lou.”
“Oh,
I do sorta remember.” Her voice got excited. “Yeah, I think I do. Oh, this is
so nice.”
“Yes,
isn't it?”
After
a few seconds of silence, Betty spoke again. “The reason I called is that I
thought we could get together for lunch and talk. I’d like to see how you are
doing.”
“Oh,
sounds like fun. I'd like that.”
“I
was wondering if we could meet at a restaurant. I'll buy you lunch.”
“There's
a small place across from the school. I go there a lot now to meet with friends
after school.”
“It
might be better to meet someplace with a little more class. Is there a restaurant near where you
live? I could pick you up at your house
or we could meet there.”
“I
know a little hamburger place. It’s real
close. I could walk. It is just on Telegraph. We could meet
there.”
Betty
decided not to argue with Maria about walking.
She was a teen and probably walked a lot, besides, like all of her race,
Betty had to take a moment to consider how it might be for a Negro to pick a
girl up in a lily white neighborhood.
Maybe not so good.
She
said, “Would tomorrow at noon be ok? It
is Saturday so you don’t have school.”
“Yeah,
I'll be done with the chores by then.
Not much, I just need to clean my room and take out the trash. I'll get them done fast. It will be nice to see you again.”
“See you tomorrow then at 12:00 sharp.” Betty said and
Marie agreed.
Maria had been wiping dishes when the phone rang. She threw the dish rag down and ran into the dinning room so she could pick it up right away. She was hoping it was her friend Marilyn so she’d have an excuse to stop wiping the dishes. This made her disappointed when she first picked up the phone, she’s lost her excuse to sit and talk for a long while. After talking to Betty-Lou she didn’t mind finishing the dishes, in fact, she hardly noticed she was doing them without an argument this evening as he mind went back through the years to kindergarten and her friendship with Betty-Lou. At first, she’d looked up to Betty-Lou because in her young child’s eyes she was almost an adult and a teacher, but later she came to like Betty-Lou because she was fun.
She remembered visiting Betty-Lou’s house a few times and meeting her mother and brother, and then, the last time, Betty-Lou’s baby. So long ago. Maria laughed to herself because she remembered how dark Betty-Lou’s brother was but not Betty-Lou. She looked white as anyone, not that skin color had any consideration for her as a young girl. Like most children, she’d been color blind.
Now she knew better and it made her smile the harder. What fun. I can’t wait to meet her. She could imagine her mother and father’s gasp of horror if they knew she was meeting a Negro lady for lunch tomorrow. Just last week her mother yelled at her to turn the radio off when she was listening to music on WCHB, the Negro radio station. Maria loved Little Richard and Fat’s Domino, course she loved Elvis too.
Thinking hard about the past, Maria actually finished wiping the dishes in record time, and finished sweeping the dinning room floor. She frowned as she set the broom into the closet and went up the stairs to her bedroom to read. She thought it was dumb to need to sweep the floor every single night. When I get married, I am only going to sweep the floor once a week or maybe, only once a month. Upstairs, when she opened the fiction book, she didn’t want to read it any longer. She wanted to think about Betty-Lou and lunch. She couldn’t wait to see her friend from ten years ago.
Betty felt amazed at how
easy the phone call went. God must be
looking over her shoulder. Oh, yes,
thank you God. I need all the help I can
get. Happy now, she sang as she washed
the dishes, and scrapped Lou's food in the garbage, this time, not because he
was upset, but in a hurry. She
smiled. His friend Arnold was a good
kid, a better influence on Louis than her own brother. What a shame.
She knew from experience that he wouldn't eat it if she put it in the
refrigerator. He isn't quite a teenager
yet, but already turning fussy, even with his big appetite.
She hoped she had enough
gas in the car to get to
The
next day, as she drove through
She
smiled at the memory of little Maria reaching up and standing on her tip toes
to knock on the screen door. Her knock
was so light, it was hard to hear, but Betty knew she was there. She always knew because they had a certain
rapport between them ever since she fished her out of that river. Laughing at how naive she’d been at the age
of twelve, she remembered holding and thinking of the baby as if it was a gift
from God himself.
As
she turned onto
She
pulled into a parking space, but couldn't get out of the car right away. She was shaking too badly. Nerved up.
Stupid, but it was so important to her family. Get hold of yourself. She knew what to say when they met because
she'd thought about her line of approach over and over throughout the
night. Surly, Maria will at least
listen?
Betty
fumbled with her purse. Looked in the
rear view mirror to puff up her bobbed hair, bit her lip, grabbed the handle if
the car, prayed a Hail Mary, before stepping out from the safe haven of the
automobile and into the thick atmosphere of her own overwrought emotions. It
helped that she was truly curious about Maria’s life now. She took in a huge breath, and entered the
cinder block hamburger joint.
Green
plastic padded booths lined two short walls with the kitchen directly at the
end of the isle. It certainly was a very
small eating place, with mostly travelers on Telegraph for customers. Betty
didn't see any young girls, sitting alone or otherwise. An elderly man eating in one booth and two
young boys sipping coke in another.
Other than that, the restaurant was empty. She was about five minutes early. The lunch crowd would probably pick up soon,
but for now, she was thankful to be here first.
She could sit and relax with a coffee.
Smiling at her own nerves, she felt the craving for a cigarette. Hadn't smoked for three years. Take it easy, Betty girl. All will be well, she told herself as she
walked towards the kitchen and slid into a back booth.
Before
long, the waitress, a haggard older women with her hair hanging out of a bun
tied in back, with a floral flush to her face, probably because she was the
cook too, came to take her order.
“I'll
just have coffee for now. Waiting for a
friend.”
Friend,
that sounds nice. She really did want to
catch up what was going on with Maria.
She'd missed her after the move, not too badly because she was
overly centered on herself at the time, her love life had been ripe and
ready. Over ripe, as it turned out. Getting pregnant was the first big mistake of
her life, but certainly not the last, although it was that first mistake that
pushed her towards college. She'd had
enough sense to realize that a women alone, the father left her even before the
baby was born, needed to earn a decent living.
Betty
thought of the fact that she was only twelve to thirteen years older than
Maria, yet she was a grown women and Maria a teenager. Amazing what a few years can do. She looked at the clock as the large hand
ticked past the twelve, sighed, and sipped the coffee, surprisingly good for
such a small restaurant.
A
few people left and more people came in the door, an older couple. Betty had positioned herself so she could see
easily, but no Maria, not yet. Well,
she's only a few minutes late. She tried
to ignore the clock over the door with the next sip of coffee. Soon, the waitress would come back with a
fill-up, then what? Order?
Sitting
there waiting for Maria, Betty speculated that leaving the comfort of known
space, the small city of River Rouge where she'd lived all her life, was not
easy, not today or those many years ago when she left for college. She felt out of sorts, nerved up, and it wasn’t the color of her skin driving
her nerves to tingle. She could pass for white if she wanted. Besides, Negro people, like herself, often
traveled down
Ah, here comes Maria. Still dark wavy hair, probably rolled up at
night, dark eyes, searching, then they light-up when she sees Betty. A big smile grew on her face as she walked
towards the booth and Betty realized her fears had been silly and childish.
Betty
and Maria meet
Maria
hesitated until Betty nodded, then slid in the booth opposite.
“Now
that I see you, I remember you. I remember visiting your house when I was little.
Isn't it amazing?”
“Yes,
it is.”
They
had an awkward moment broken by the waitress who came to take the order.
“It's
on me. Order anything you want. Hamburger and fries for me.”
Maria followed suite, but with a coke instead
of coffee.
As
they ate, they talked about old times and new times, Maria chattering a mile a
minute, Betty, more sedate, but nevertheless talking a lot with her own
catching up. Betty was surprised how
easy it was to talk with Maria, as if they'd been friends all along. Amazing.
Finally,
the food eaten, second coke for Maria and third cup of coffee for Betty, the
question came out that needed to be answered.
“How
did you find me, and why did you want to contact me now?” Maria asked, “Not
that I am not happy about it, but you know, I just want to know…” Her words
trailed off in embarrassment.
Betty
reached across the table and put her finger beneath Maria's chin for a second,
an intimate move that showed concern and affection. Maria didn't seem to mind.
With those huge big black eyes looking right at her, Betty decided to come
right out with it and not beat around the bush.
“I
need your help.”
There she'd said it and
the roof didn't cave in but her nerves felt tight while she sat back and waited
for Maria's reaction.
Maria's
reaction to Betty's words was a blank stare for a long moment, then a shake of
the head and a widening smile, “Sure, I'll help you, but how?”
“Do
you remember the tricks you used to do for me and my mother?”
Maria
leaned back against the plastic of the booth and closed her eyes, thinking
hard. “I think, maybe.”
“That
is the kind of help I need.”
Maria's
nose twitched and her eyes squeezed together in a looked of pure puzzlement,
“Gosh. I don't know. I don't do that kind of stuff any more.” In a smaller
voice, so low Betty had to strain to hear, “Forgot, sort of. Don't know why.”
Betty
took both Maria's hands into her own. “Maria, I am older now and I understand
some things that you may not. I think this talent was driven out of you by a horrible
man in the park. He probably frightened you so badly, you stopped doing fun
tricks.
Still
holding on to Maria's hands, she gave them a slight squeeze, “Do you remember?”
“No.
And I am kinda scared because you think I am supposed to remember. But I
don't.”
Maria pulled her hands away, as if fearful now.
“I
am sorry. I got to pushing you too hard.”
They
were both quiet for a few minutes, then Betty said, “You used to have a lot of
special talent. You don't have any now?”
In
a small voice, Maria answered, “I got some, just a little.”
Betty knew she needed to
go easy right now. This was a touchy subject and she didn't want to loose
Maria.
“You keep it secret,
don't you?”
“Yeah.”
“I
think that you have learned to keep your talents hidden because if people knew,
they might hurt you?”
Maria
nodded.
Looking
around, Betty saw that the hamburger joint was almost empty of customers now
and she wondered if there was a better place to talk about this, maybe the car,
but then she didn't want to make an abrupt change for fear of cutting off the
sensitive subject.
“Maybe
you'd tell me?”
When
Maria looked directly at her, Betty saw fear in her dark eyes. Betty closed her
own, to think.
She
called the waitress over and ordered another coke for Maria and coffee for
herself, then, gathering all her twenty eight years of wits, knowing that her
next words were her last trump card, knowing with her next words she would
either loose or win Maria, she used her extra calm voice as if she were
counseling a troubled student, and said, “I used to call you Baby Girl
Moses. Do you remember?”
Maria's
mouth opened then closed. “Yes! I do remember. Maria laughed, “But why did you
call me that?”
Oh,
how Betty hated to throw this new knowledge at her, a young impressionable
teenager racked with all the hormones and self-centered worries that went with
that age group. She was afraid what she had to say might hurt her deeply, but
maybe not. Teenagers were capable of great resilience too.
With serious trepidation
that she hoped wasn't noticeable in her voice, she told her. “I pulled you out
of a river once when you were a baby, just like Moses.”
“Oh, that's great, sort
of fun. Guess I'd have did the same. Makes lot of sense.”
“It was because of that I
always knew you were special, at least to me. So when I found you again in
kindergarten, I latched on to you. Always thought of you as sort of family. Do
you mind?”
“No, that's ok. We get along just fine, don't
we?”
“Yes, comfortable.”
“I noticed that too. As
if we knew each other all our lives. After a minute of quiet, she added, “Guess
we have.”
Maria's smile was
beautiful to behold, but Betty knew she wasn't seeing the whole picture yet,
and why should she? Why push it? Let her be comfortable for a while longer, let
her believe she is who she thinks she is.
“Maria, I am puzzled. You
mean you never try to push anything around anymore? You were so good at it.”
“Yeah, I sort of
remember. I was good, wasn't I? I guess I forgot. Hey, let’s see?”
Maria
uses her talent
Maria closed her eyes
tight, as if she were concentrating. Suddenly, the napkin, half filled glass of
coke, and thankfully cooled off cup of coffee with saucer and spoon flew across
the table and landed in Betty's lap.
Betty yelped loudly and
jumped up. Her own yelp almost hid
Maria's cry, but not quite. Maria was
holding her head in her hands, crying actual tears and moaning loudly. Betty went over to her, sat down next to her
and held her head tight to her.
“Oh, I am so sorry. So
sorry that you got hurt.”
It took about five more
minutes for Maria to stop holding her head and breathe out the last sob.
“It hurt so bad.” Maria
whispered, when she finally got hold of herself, “But it worked, didn't it?”
By now the waitress had
come and wiped up the spilled coke and coffee and put the bill upside down on
the table. Guess it was time to leave. Betty sat back down on the other side of
the table, but she grabbed Maria's hands again to let her know she sympathized
with her pain.
“Are you ok now? We need
to leave.”
Maria shrugged. “Sure. I
got to get home, anyway.”
“Come on, I'll drop you
off.”
When Maria was settled in
the front seat and Betty was about to drive away, she said, “I am so sorry you
got hurt, but we need to talk again, if you don't mind. Soon.”
“No, I don't mind. I think you are my friend.”
“I hope to always be your
friend. Maybe next time we could meet in a park. The weather is nice right
now.”
“Sounds good to me. Now I
think I remember that time in the park in River Rouge. It was after that I
stopped pushing things.”
“I think that horrible
man hurt you, somehow. He didn't want you to be able to push.”
“I don't like no one
telling me what to do, or what not do.” She hit her foot on the floor of the
car.
Betty smiled. Teenager
for sure. Maybe her anger will drive her to help.
“I still need your help,
if you're able, but I don't want you to get hurt.”
“That's for me to
decide.”
“Could we meet again in
three or four days? Just tell me where.”
“Ok, but give me a hint
now. Why do you need my help?”
“It has to do with a
certain person in my family, but also a lot of people might get hurt if you
can't help that person.” Betty sighed. “Listen to me, I can’t even talk about
it, I keep beating around the bush. “The truth is: My brother has a bullet in his brain. It
needs to come out because he is trying to start a riot, rousing up people in
Black Bottom, a place in
When Maria didn’t say
anything right away to her quick, diatribe of words, Betty added, “How
impertinent of me, right? To think I, or you, or anyone could change things.”
“Yeah. Sounds like too much for anyone.”
“It is a case of moving
one small item to prevent a great wrong, something only you could do. Do you
understand?”
“I think. Maybe.”
“Good, I’ll explain more
when we meet. Just remember, you only need to listen. If you don’t want to do
anything, or think you can’t, just tell me. I will understand.”
“I think I want to help,
if I can. Here is my house. Just let me out in front.”
They arraigned to meet in
the small park down the street a week later, in the afternoon.
Just before Betty pulled
away, she called out, “Don't forget.”
“Oh, no, I won't. I want
to learn more. Kinda a challenge. Sounds like fun.” Maria said as she got out
of the car.
Betty couldn’t help
reflect on how young people hardly ever think of consequences. Nothing
frightens the young, they always think everything will be all right. She
thought of her own son, Louis who was walking along on his merry way after the
trauma, even friends with Mark again, and now without a care in the world just
because he handed over the burden of knowing about the guns. Now he thinks he
is free? Well, not really, she realized. He still needs to keep silent around
my brother, even pretend to still like him. Not hang out with him, I hope. I
told him to stay away. I know he’ll try. He’ll stay away, if he can. Her
thoughts ran circles around the problems her brother had created all the way home
from
Chapter 12
Maria tells Jeff
When
she got out of the car, Maria went up to her room. She had a lot of thinking to do. The visit with Betty-Lou was stirring up old
memories, including the fact that she wasn't supposed to go visit “That end of
town” anymore. She remembered her
mother's stern voice when she set out that demand.
But
I must have been young because I was still living near the church. Betty-Lou,
oops, I'd better start calling her Betty because she is almost old enough to be
my mother. Maria got an uneasy feeling at the thought and pushed it away. She
was too optimistic most of the time to let deep worries into in her life, but
the few times when she did get depressed, she moped and felt hung all over.
Today, she’d felt on top of the world until the headache in the diner. Her head
still hurt a little, but not so much that she wouldn't try moving something.
Don’t know why I didn’t try before this. Maybe with more practice the headaches
will go away.
She
remembered the dark man in the park and how worried she’d been later about
Betty-Lou. She even had a slight memory of traveling with her mind to
Betty-Lou's house, but it quickly faded and she wasn't sure if it had been
real. Moving stuff was real, or used to be. Even her old friend Betty knew she
could do it. So why didn’t she ever do it?
She
looked down at the bedroom carpet, thread bare and brown, she hated brown. Her
brother had left a small red car next to her bed. He isn’t supposed to be in my
room. Darn. No matter, the small car would be a good start.
She
squeezed her eyes shut, then stopped. I don’t need to squeeze my eyes so hard;
maybe I don’t need to squeeze them at all. Amazing that I don’t know. With this
first trial, she closed her eyes for a short minute, without squeezing them
shut, pictured the car in her mind and opened her eyes. The car hadn’t moved.
She laughed at herself. Well, dummy. You got to think about it before it will
move. She laughed again.
Even
a dummy could figure out what was wrong. She was afraid of the pain.
“Don’t
matter. I don’t care if my head hurts.” she said out loud to the empty
room.
On
her next try, she pictured the little red car first by her bed, then across the
room, next to the closet door. The car moved beneath her eye lids. When she
opened her eyes, mostly because she was forced to do so because of the ache
inside her mind, she noticed the car had rolled up to the closet door, just the
way she’d imagined it should.
Yes! I did it.
But her head hurt too badly to keep trying.
Later
that afternoon, she used the car as a test and managed to move it five
different places in the room, but her head hurt so badly, she wanted to cry
out. Maybe a few aspirin would help. She heard Jeff’s voice call from the
bottom of the stairs.
“Maria,”
Jeffrey called up the stairs. “Where are you?”
“Here
silly,” she said as she walked down the stairs. Experiment over. As they walked
past her mother, who was standing at the stove stirring spaghetti sauce with a
dark wooden spoon, she asked if she could have a couple of aspirin.
“My
head hurts just awful.”
“You
know where the bottle is and make sure you put it back up on the high shelf.”
Maria
told Jeffrey she'd meet him out back in a minute and went to get the
aspirin. She took a double dose with a
half glass of water. Yech, but she got them down.
The
pain in her head began to ease up as she sat with Jeffery in the back yard on
the kiddy swing. As they sat, he talked
earnestly about the car his dad said he'd buy him, the horsepower, number of
pistons, wheels etc. Maria soon turned her thoughts to other things, like
practicing her talent. She did notice that Jeff’s rainbow was especially bright
this day, as if he was feeling real good. Well, why not, if his dad was really
going to buy him a new car. They’d been fighting so much lately that Jeff had
moved out of the house for almost a week. The car must be his dad’s way of
making up for the fight.
Still,
even if it was going to be a nice car, she couldn’t stay interested in motors,
rpms and other stuff he was talking about, so when Jeffery wasn’t looking, she
began to pick up a pebble from the grass and throw it with her mind. Then
toppled a pail half filled with sand. That one was good because it was heavy.
She looked around for more things she could move. The aspirin had not only stopped her headache
but seemed to be preventing her head from hurting even now as she used her
talent. She began having a lot of fun as she looked for things to move, as if
she were the wind. A piece of paper, then a sand shovel, then an old wooden
chair. Well, the chair just wiggled.
Every time Jeffery turned his head towards the house, she moved
something else with her mind, even trying to pick up five stones at once and
throwing them a short ways.
Suddenly,
Jeffery grabbed both her arms in his large hands, and said, “Got you.”
Maria woke up as if out of a dream.
“What?”
“I
saw what you were doing, that's what.”
“No
what?”
Jeffery's
crooked smirk lighted up his whole face. His silver-blue eyes glowed.
Maria
felt her heart thump in fear. Did he see, really see? Nether of them had spoken
about their uncanny drawings that day. It seemed to be a subject that they both
avoided. Now her strange talent was out in the open?
“I
didn't see anything,” Maria said looking around, trying to defuse the
situation.
“Stones,
that's what,” He said with a silly grin. “I saw you.”
She
didn't say anything more; she didn't know what too say, but Jeffery did.
“I
don't care. It means nothing to me. But something else does. Shane saw you
getting out of a car with that older women driving. I just wondered what it was
about, is all.”
“Your
brother Shane ought to mind his own business.”
“He
said you were at the diner with her too, and the coffee and pop spilled all over
her lap.” He grinned. “And now I know why.”
Jeffery
stood up, folded his arms together, strong arms with muscles she loved to
watch, standing tall and determined as he said, “I am not leaving until you
tell me what this is all about.”
“You
are too stubborn for words” Maria said, her voice angry. But in truth, she
would like to tell Jeffery all about it. She wanted to tell someone, and
certainly her parents would be the last people in the world to tell.
“Ok,
you win. Let’s go for a long walk and I'll tell you all of it.”
They
walked down the country road, Jeff holding her hand sometimes, and she felt
thrilled to be his girl as she talked about her childhood friendship with
Betty-Lou and the talents she’d kept hidden, even from herself, until now.
Angels give report about Maria
At the meeting, Riala, Ariala, Chaella each gave a report on Maria’s life as they had viewed it so far. Riala, who’d had actual duties on earth and who’d found Maria gave the longest report. She repeated her experience with the evil angel who tried to follow Maria then concluded with a few other interesting events.
“Not many yet. Maria is still young, in her middle teens, and had experienced no major life changes, or traumas, so far.”
She explained further that this was a plus for her because she lives in a poor family, but everything else seems fine. Some children experience great traumas by that age, as all of you know. Also, I haven’t seen her use any of her talents so assume that she was frightened off by the dark angel when she was only five. Maybe someone who has watched her from their monitor can add more?”
Riala looked over to her friends Chaella and Ariala as if to give them an opening to report if they had more on Maria and her talents. Each shook their head.
“Maybe Maria doesn’t remember the talents from when she was a child.” suggested Chaella.
“That may be true, but I think it is going to change soon,” Ariala told the group. She was always the one to worry most about Maria taking care of herself, so the others found it easy to assume that she might exaggerate a report. Chaella was surprised at Ariala’s remark although she admitted that she hadn’t checked up on Maria’s life recently while down on earth.
“What makes you say that?” Riala asked, half expecting it to be a small matter that they could dismiss.
“When I checked for Maria in my view-port, just recently, I saw her walk out of a diner to a car and ride off with Betty, the girl who first found her as a baby. She is a lady in her late twenties now, but I still recognized her.”
Riala and Chaella were both startled at this revelation.
Michael asked her if she knew what they had talked about. He understood that it wasn’t easy to hear conversations between two people on earth, but sometimes, when the quantum effect lined up just right, it was possible.
“As soon as I recognized Betty, I strained to listen in. All I could catch was a statement by Betty about her brother in trouble. She also said something about her son needing help too.” It wasn’t clearer than that.
Raphael, who had recently returned from their world in the future, told about Serapha’s progress with healing, but then spoke to the assembly about Maria and Betty. “I might have a hint of what is going on. Betty’s brother has a serious wound in his head. The doctors can’t remove a bullet that is lodged inside his brain. It has changed him considerably, for the worse.”
The three friends looked at Raphael with awe.
Riala said, “I didn’t know you took such an interest in Maria or the people around her.”
“It is easy to forget that, unwittingly or by accident of birth, she has become one of our major projects. That makes every person she touches worthy of continued study.”
Riala smiled knowingly. Most often, they helped people in haphazard ways when they saw danger coming. They couldn’t always help, in fact, hardly ever, but they tried. Only certain humans were studied extensively, hence Maria.
“This meeting between Maria and Betty may produce a quandary for us. If Maria begins to use her angel talents while still young and uninformed as to the consequences, she will light up and glow like a beacon to the dark angels; they will turn their focus on her.” Michael paused here as three yellow dandelions floated past his nose. He pulled one to himself and looked at it closely.
“Why do they think this is considered a weed?” He shook his head.
No one answered because they understood the question; each of them had asked themselves the same thing many times.
Michael continued. “She needs to be warned. We dare not let the dark angels take notice of her, at least, until she has matured. One of us must go down and warn Maria” He looked around at all those assembled as he continued, “I will certainly take a closer notice of what is going on around her, but she needs someone to watch out for her. Riala I think such a project is just right for you because of your prior interest. You seem to know her best.”
“I’d love that. The more time I spend on earth, the more I feel empathy with the people and want to help, especially Maria.”
Just then Raphael spoke again. “Perhaps we are over reacting. So far, her real talents have been dampened and smothered by the culture of disbelief that surrounds everyone in this earth’s time frame. She may not only be afraid to use her talent, but also disbelieving that it exists. Perhaps she considers what happened before as childish pranks.”
“If that is the case, we may have nothing to worry about, for now.” Michael said, a contemplative look on his face. “Later, when she matures, if she remembers she had angel talents, we will have an easier time of directing her in a correct path. For now, Riala, maybe you should keep a special watch on Maria from here. Less interference that way. If you see evidence of her using her talent, we will make an attempt to discourage her.”
They moved on to other business, Riala felt her mind fill with questions. She had checked up on Maria frequently. How did I miss that meeting with Betty? I will keep a better focus from now on. At the present time, she didn’t have any specific earth assignments. If she saw trouble, Michael might send her down to befriend Maria. Riala liked the idea and almost hoped there would be a reason to befriend Maria. First, she’d better check up on what had happened while she was on earth for her last assignment.
Riala sent to
Ariala and Chaella, “Both of you have
watched Maria extensively, when I was on other assignments. I’ll just bet that
you’ll have a lot to tell me about her and her friends.”
“Oh, yes. Let’s gather as soon as the meeting is over. It will be fun for me too,” Chaella said. “I watch Maria a lot when you are on earth and you too.”
“I watch you too.” Arial added. “ Sometimes
it seems as if I am down there with you. I think Michael will send me to earth
soon. I can’t wait.”
Riala could feel Chaella’s pout in her mind. She wanted to go to earth badly, but still had a lot of training to get through. It didn’t matter because everyone had their specific job to do and some jobs were done better from on high than on earth. Yet, it was an achievement that younger angels wanted, and dreamed of, just as I did once, Riala reminded herself.
Maria and Jeff meet Betty in the park
Maria saw Betty frown as she walked into the park with Jeff at her side.
“It’s ok, she said right away. “He knows about my talent.” She grinned with pride as she added, “He’s been helping me practice.”
Maria and Jeff sat down on the other side of the picnic table from Betty. “This is Jeff. He is in some of my classes in school. Most important, he knows all about Black Bottom.”
“Hey, I didn’t say that. I said I’d been there a few times.” Jeff said.
“Well, Betty said, “That’s more that I can say; I’ve never been to Black Bottom in my life.”
They all laughed at the irony of a white person knowing Black Bottom better than her.
“All I know is
that Mark, my own brother, is living there with a friend. He is calling people
together to start some kind of race war.”
“How do you know?” Jeff asked.
“Race war sounds dangerous, like deep shit man.”
Maria reflected on how Jeff could pick out what was important right away. He tried to hide it, but he could talk very serious and intelligent when he wasn’t talking about cars.
“I was able to get hold of Marks address.” Betty turned towards Jeff, “Other than that, I am not sure what else to do or where to start. That’s why I wanted to meet with Maria, to discuss what we could do.”
“Well, if I am going to pull a bullet out of your brother’s head, I’ll need to be up real close.”
“Yes, it is the limitations on your talent that I wanted to understand before I plan what to do.”
Jeff broke in, “I think if we sit Maria down next to him for a few minutes, she can do the rest. What’s his name? Mark?”
“Yes. People have begun calling him Mad Man Mark.”
“I’ll need time to put my mind in the right mood once I sit down. May take a few minutes to wiggle it out.”
“Is he going to feel it? Hurt a lot?” Jeff asked.
“He already hurts. I think he is in constant pain.” Betty tried to hold back tears as she continued. “It may be the pain that is causing the character change. I’ve watched him squint his eyes and ball up his fist when he didn’t know I was looking. He is in deep pain, all the time, I think.”
“I guess the pain I might cause him will be good for him. Can’t help it though, I am not a magician. This isn’t magic.”
Be nice if it were. Then we could do it from a distance.” Betty smiled at her own words, knowing they were dumb. “This problem has me so rattled, I don’t know if I am coming or going. My son has started following him again, even after finding those guns, packed in boxes, in the back room just waiting to be used. I don’t know if he thinks Mark is tough and brave, or is afraid to not follow him. He always did worship the ground Mark walked on. I am having a tough time talking sense to him.”
“I know what you mean. I know a lot of hot heads who would love that kind of gun stuff. They’d start a riot if they could.” Jeff said.
“When can we get you over there? Soon?”
“Why not?” Maria shrugged. “All I need to do is get out of the house for the evening.”
“Need to figure out why we are going there. To gamble? That doesn’t happen until late.”
“We don’t need to know that. We can be dumb about what goes on there.” Maria said.
“I don’t know how I can go with you. He’ll see me. What excuse can I give?”
“Why don’t we just go for a visit as if we were trying to talk to him about something?” Maria suggested. “You have got to come, I won’t go alone. Besides, you need to point him out.”
“I know. He might slam the door in my face. Course, not if I stick my foot in it first.”
“Bring him a package, then he won’t turn us away. From the church?”
Betty’s eyes twinkled at that idea. “I like it.” She laughed. “A bible. It makes sense that I might try to convert him. It also means we could go during the day, Sunday afternoon. I am afraid to go late at night, anyway.”
“I like that idea too. Worth a try.”
“I’ll even dress up like some kind of preacher guy.” Jeff said. “I’ll wear my blue funeral suit. Hey, man, I’ll be dressed just perfect for the occasion. Hey, I’ll even polish my car.”
“All you think of is cars. Should I wear a dress to match the color of your car?” Maria said and they all laughed. It was funny.
“You know, for the first time, I think this will really work. I’ll make sure I sit you down next to Mark. Put him on the couch too, if they have a couch. I don’t know what we are walking into, you realize that?” Betty said.
“We know. We’ll just be on our toes, ready for anything.
“Should I pack a gun and holster? Maybe I need to wear a cowboy outfit instead.”
Maria punched him on the arm. “Quit being silly. This is serious.”
We’ll do it this Sunday.” Betty said. “The quicker the better.”
They all agreed and as Betty rose to leave, she walked around the picnic table and gave Maria a hug and shook Jeff’s hand. “Thank you.” she said to both of them. I promise to pay you back the favor one day.
“Favor? For what? I haven’t had this much excitement in a long time.”
They all laughed at that, but wouldn’t have laughed so hard if they’d known who Mark was sharing an apartment with. They were walking into more trouble than they bargained for, but such is life.
Maria was walking down the dirt road, not too far from her house. she’d walked all the way to the small store on Goddard and was walking the long distance down Cape Cod Street and would turn on to her own before too long. Though it was spring, the wind was blistery and she wished she’d worn a warmer coat. As she kicked a rock down the road trying not to think of Betty’s problem, she wondered if Jeff was coming over tonight and why did he need to play so much basketball anyway. He had a game Sunday, the day they were going to visit Betty’s brother, but it wasn’t until evening. With her mind caught up in her relationship with Jeff, she didn’t notice the two girls who began to walk behind her until one of them spoke.
“Hi,” a girl called to her, startling her out of her reverie.
“Hi,” she called back, but kept walking.
The girls caught up with her, one on each side and began to walk towards the corner with her. We are visiting our grandmother. Can we walk with you for a little way?”
“Sure” Maria shrugged.
But when they got around the corner, an empty place with plowed farm fields, a lot of trees next to the road with no houses nearby, the girls asked her if she’d sit down and talk for a minute. Maria didn’t care one way or another so agreed to sit with them. They found a scattered pile of fallen logs and she sat on one, and the two girls sat on another, facing her. One girl kept twirling her hair in her finger. Maria smiled at this because that is exactly what she did when she was nervous and would have did it now except that she noticed the other girl doing it first.
“We really wanted to talk to you when you were alone. “
“I don’t even know you.” Maria said.
“We know you. My name is Riala.”
The other girl said, “We know you real well, and my name is Arial.”
“I don’t see how you know me.”
Both girls looked at each other and said, “Because we are angels.”
Startled by their words, Maria thought she should get up and go home. These girls were too silly or crazy? Curious, she stayed sitting in spite of her misgivings.
“It is true.” We know Betty met with you in the restaurant a few days ago and then the park. You plan to help her.”
This news settled Maria to the seat. How do they know? Even my best friend doesn’t know, only Jeff.
“Do you know my boyfriend, Jeffery?”
“No. We know because we have watched you off and on all your life. You are part angel. This means that you have some amazing talents, but you also have a few limits that you don’t know about. We came to explain those limits.”
It must have been the look of shock on Maria’s face that made Riala continue, “We don’t expect you to believe us right now, maybe later, after you think about what we are telling you.”
Arial said, “We know you have been practicing moving objects with your mind. We know it gives you a severe headache, and we also know why. You may not remember why. It was caused by the dark man in the park one day when you were a little girl.”
“I do remember. I remember being scared.”
“There are good
angels and bad ones; he was one of the bad angels.
Maria continued to sit. She
decided she’d pay attention to what they were saying and leave the decision on
whether to believe it or not for later.
“I am listening.”
“Good, because we would have never come to you except for your friend Betty. We need to ask you not to remove the bullet from her brother’s brain.”
“Why not!” Maria yelled, her pent up emotions finally escaping. “Why not help her? Isn’t that what angels do?”
“Yes, but we are very careful how we do it. If we interfere too much, the universe has a way of disrupting that change so much it causes a disaster. We are afraid that if you go ahead with Betty’s plan, it will cause a greater disaster than the bullet.”
“Well, I can’t see how. I have already decided to help Betty. Are you going to stop me?”
‘We can’t stop you. We just want to explain that this is one of the limits of being an angel. We can’t push too hard or great tragedy might happen.”
You mean you never work miracles?”
“We do work miracles sometimes, but first we take steps to learn if our actions will damage the future and which will not. If you heal Betty’s brother, we are afraid it will change the future drastically.”
“But you don’t know for sure?” Maria said.
“No, we honestly don’t know for sure. It is a chance we wish you wouldn’t take.”
“I am not sure I believe you.”
The angel with the long blond hair, Riala, decided it was time to drop the bombshell. It was all they had left.
“Your mother’s marriage to your father may have caused a great disaster. She and your father died in a tornado along with other people. That is what we mean by danger.”
Riala chose not to explain to Maria that her mother Sara was alive and well, but far in the future on Angel World. With the contrast in time, the two or three years it would take Sara to recover would translate into 20 to 50 years here on earth, and if Sara ever decided to revisit earth, Maria would be a much older adult probably raising her own family. So she just waited for an answer from Maria.
Maria felt glued to the rotting log. Oh, my God, she thought. My mother? But my mother is home right now fixing dinner, my father is at work. What could they mean?
She managed to ask, with a meek voice, “Maybe you have the wrong person.”
“We don’t.” Riala said.
“We are sorry to tell you like this,” Arial said.
Maria shook her head. “Leave me alone.” she yelled. “Just go away.”
The two girls, looked at each other, and suddenly they were gone, disappearing into thin air, as if they’d never been.
This frightened Maria almost as much as their words had. She sat on the log trembling and shaking. Like most humans, she tended to forget or hide from what she didn’t want to remember, so later, as she lay in bed, she only remembered their warning, not the part about her parents because her mind had enough to absorb already.
She thought about how happy she was to meet up with Betty again and how much she liked Jeff’s help. The problem drew both of them closer and taught her new things about Jeff. She pictured herself telling Jeff that she couldn’t go through with it, and the look of puzzlement on his face. No, I’ve made a decision and I intend to stick with it. I will pull that bullet out of Betty’s brother’s head. So there. The decision is made.
Besides, how do I know that they weren’t the bad angels? Good angels would help a person in need. But they didn’t seem bad. Her mind ran around with these thoughts until the next day when Jeff came to visit. They played monopoly together with her mom and dad, so it was easy to forget all about silly angels and their talk for a while.
Chapter 13
Sunday on the way to Mark’s house
Betty waited on the porch steps for Maria and Jeff holding the bible in her lap. She raised her eyes to heaven, Give me strength God. She felt nervous but afraid for her family, therefore determined to see it through. When they pulled up at the curb and she saw Jeff get out of his supped up blue Chevy wearing a neat blue suit she couldn’t help but smile. He looked decidedly uncomfortable in a suit. Both of them got out of the car for a minute and walked up to where Betty was sitting.
“Not used to wearing a suit, I see.” Betty laughed.
“It’s only for a short time, I can deal with it.” He gave Maria a hug as he added, “And look at this beautiful young lady.”
Maria wore a blue skirt that flared in big swirls with a white blouse that had frills at the neck. She had on lipstick and had curled her hair the night before in curlers.
“You look good enough for church,” Betty said to Maria.
“You look nice too.”
“Thanks, but not very dressy. I wore a work suit because it will hide how nervous I really am. I am afraid he will know something is up when he sees me.”
“So what?” Jeff said, “All we need is a few minutes for Maria to use her great talent.”
Maria hit him playfully on the arm. “I hope I can do it. I’ve been practicing, and I checked out pictures in a medical book to make sure I know how to pull the bullet out from where ever it is in his brain.” Maria shrugged her shoulders, “I think I’ll know what to do.”
Betty assured her that what ever she did would be an improvement. “How is the pain when you try to move things?”
“Better then it was at first. Either my head is getting used to me using it in a strange way or I have learned to shove the pain aside. Besides, I took 4 aspirin before I left the house.”
“So lets get rolling,” Jeff called, as he walked back to car and petted the front fender as if it was a pet dog. “Nice day for a drive.”
Maria just shook her head. She couldn’t imagine loving something made out of steel, but it was a nice used car.
“Let’s get this done and over with,” Betty said. “Please Lord.” She turned her eyes up as if to send a prayer to heaven.
When they were all comfortable and Jeff drove away, Maria remembered the warning she’d received from the two angels. Maybe the warning was silly, maybe not. She wasn’t sure if she believed any of it. Didn’t matter. She had to do what she had to do. That was the end of it.
“Do you know the way?” Betty asked Jeff.
Maria could detect the nervousness in her voice. Guess we’re all anxious.
“Sure.
I told you. I’ve been to
“Right.”
“I’ve been there a couple of times. Just don’t ask me about the kind of stuff that I was doing there, ok.”
Jeff saw Betty’s look of disgust in the rear view mirror, he added, “gambling, that’s all. Ok?”
His words put a smile on Betty’s lips which made her nerves feel better.
“We
were a little late because of all the stop signs and lights driving through
“Yes,
but they are going to tare down
“Didn’t it used to be famous?” Maria asked.
“My mother told me it used to have great night clubs and the best entertainers in the world, but not any more.”
“That’s too bad, I wish I would have seen it in its heyday.”
They
were silent as Jeff drove down
“I
prayed this morning, and I just know everything will go ok.” Maria spoke the
words trying to settle her own nerves. When Jeff drove through the center of
She looked at Jeff for confirmation that he’d want to go too. He pretended like he didn’t hear her. Oh well.
Betty said, “Honey, if we get out of this mess ok, I’ll take you any place you want to go. The Detroit Institute of Arts sounds great to me.”
They rode in silence the rest of the way, each person settling into their own worries and thoughts.
Louie rides with Mark
Louie spent the night with a school friend who lived next door to his grandma Beau, but he had to leave in the morning because Adam had to go to church with his parents and Louie was supposed to go to church with his grandma, but he really didn’t want to go. Grandma’s church was too long and he didn’t like all those old people hugging and kissing on him. He saw Mark’s new car, a beat up Ford in the street in front of grandma’s house, he figured he might be able to wiggle out of going to church.
When he walked into the house, Mark was in the kitchen eating breakfast.
“That you Louis?” his grandma Beau called.
“Yes, gram. Adam had to leave, so I come over to visit.”
“Adam is on his way to church with his parents. Now you go wash up and straighten your cloths so it don’t look like you slept in them. We don’t want to be late.”
Louie frowned but went into the bathroom to wash up. While he was in there running the water, he could hear Mark talking to his grandma about rent money. “Just need a little bit to tide me over. Got something coming up that’s gonna fix everything soon enough.”
“What you got going? Nothing good, I’ll bet.”
“Can’t say right now.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
When Louie came out of the bathroom that was right down the hall from the kitchen both Mark and his grandma stopped talking, but he’d heard them and what they’d said. Sounded like an argument to him.
Mark looked sharp today. He was all shaved good and had on a vest over a stripped shirt. His suite coat and hat hung on the back of the chair. His shoes were shinny like he was going someplace special.
“You going to church, Uncle Mark?”
“Where I am going,” Uncle Mark said between bites of his egg omelet, “Is to the beginning of my new life. I am gonna be a leader of men. Yes, sir. A real leader of a lot of men.”
“You mean like those angry men at the meeting?”
Mark looked over at Louie with a huge frown and squeezed his eyes half shut as if to warn him not to speak of it.
“Oops, sorry.”
Grandma glared as she stood in front of the stove with a spoon in her hand, but only said, “Want some grits and eggs, Louie?”
Mark shoved the last bite in and stood up. “I got to go. Important stuff coming down today.” He gave Louie a warning look as he put on his suite coat and hat.
On his way out the door, he turned and said to Louie, “Come here, Lou, I got something special to show you.”
As soon as Louie stepped out the door, Mark grabbed him to the side by the collar and whispered in angry words, “Don’t you go telling about no meetings to anybody. Least, not until later today. Then its gonna be all over. You can blab as much as you want.”
Mark’s squeeze on his shirt collar was hurting him. All Louie could get out of his mouth was, “Ouch.”
Mark’s face squeezed into a grimace of pain as he let loose of Louie’s collar. He kept his hand on his shoulder. “Listen up, kid. Stuff real important is happening today. If you say anything…”
Then took a deep breath and his face changed. “Say, you and me are buddies, aren’t we? You’re going to be real proud of your Uncle Mark before this day is done. Come on. Hop in the car. You are going to see some changes come about this day. You get a ring-side seat.”
As they were pulling away, Louie’s grandma called out, “Your breakfast is ready. Where you going?”
But
it was too late for Louie to eat breakfast. Too late to say if he wanted to go
or not because the car was speeding down the road already. Louie just shrugged
and thought he might enjoy seeing his Uncle Mark become a big leader. He sure
looked big, this minute. He remembered how the men listened to his uncle last
time, but he also remembered the box of guns in the back. He rode in silence
all the way into
Sunday on
It
didn’t take them more than thirty minutes to arrive at
“One A, probably means the apartment’s on the first floor.”
“It’s not an apartment but a flat. I remember Mark telling my mother he lived in a flat.”
“What’s the difference?” Maria asked.
“A flat is larger and usually takes up the whole floor.”
“Oh.” She felt dumb for not knowing something so simple. It tended to leave her feeling a little less sure about herself and her talent. She said a quick Hail Mary.
All three seemed reluctant to leave the car, but couldn’t think anything else to say, so Jeff got out of the car first, and the others followed him up the stairs and onto the porch..
Mark answered the door, surprise evident on his face.
“Sis…” he stammered out. “What you doing here? Looking for Lou?”
“Actually, I came to talk to you.”
Mark’s eyes roved to the two young white people who stood on the porch with his sister, a questioning look on his face.
“They are from my church. It is Sunday, you know.” She held up the bible.
“I am real busy. We got a meeting. I just stopped back home to pick something up and I am on my way out.”
“We can come in for a minute, can’t we?”
Mark sighed as he asked them to come in and sit down. “But just for a minute. I am real busy today.”
“Sure Brother, just for a minute.”
There was nothing else he could do, Betty knew and had banked on his inability to think quick enough to send her away.
He asked them to sit, and Betty, right away, sat on the over stuffed chair near the window which only left one chair and a couch. Jeff sat on the other chair on the side of the room and facing the couch.
Betty
said, “Mark, this is important, please sit with us.”
The
only place left was the couch and Maria sat at one end. Mark acted fidgety and
nervious but sat down next to Maria on the couch and faced his sister.
Mark frowned, “Hurry up, Sis. I got important things to do.”
As Mark spoke he kept twisting his hands and waving them as to make them hurry.
During visit with Mark
As soon as Red stepped into the room, he could feel the vibes of something going on. Something was happening beneath the surface. Magic? Witchery? He was familiar with all of it and wasn't sure what this was but could feel the strangeness of it.
He took note of Mark's visitors as he said, "Mark, we need to hurry. The men are gathering right now."
Mark acted ill at ease, suddenly caught in the middle. He put his hand up to his head and squeezed his eyes for a minute. This was his big sister sitting across from him, he couldn’t just tell her to leave. Is she here because she learned that Louis was waiting for him with the other men? He was worried now and his head hurt harder. He couldn’t just tell his big sister to leave. He’d never be able to face her if something was to happen to Louie. His pain intensified with his worry. She still has power over me, he realized; yet, it is time to trigger the march through town. It is all set up for today. Mark began to sweat. What if she came for Louie?
Mark built up the nerve to ask, but stuttered his words out, “Betty, why you here? This is not a good time.”
Red notices that Mark is sweating with unease. He says, "You look upset Mark. My man Mark, you look almost as white as me." He laughed in a grating tone then stepped over to where Mark is sitting to give him a friendly pat on the shoulder. He wanted to see what was happening with that girl sitting next to him. Something strange, the vibrations were getting stronger now.
In the meantime, Maria, sitting on the couch at Mark's left lost her concentration for a moment when the new man with red hair walked in, but then went back inside Mark’s brain to find the bullet. She’d taken four aspirins before starting out in an attempt to prevent the headache that was sure to come. So far, it seemed to work as she imagined invisible fingers searching through Mark’s brain. She felt a stab of pride when she found the bullet and began to slowly pull on it. It was much smaller than she expected and was easy to manipulate. She didn’t dare just yank it out for fear that she’d hurt Mark. She’d looked up the brain in the medical encyclopedia and now realized that the bullet was lodged deep in Mark’s frontal lobe. She’d already moved the tiny bit of steel towards Mark’s left eye and sinus. As far as she could tell, that was the only place where she could move it to the outside of his brain without too much damage. She had it so close, but then it got stuck.
Her own head hurt fiercely now, but she strained anyway. It seemed to her that a long time had passed, but surly that must be wrong. From her peripheral vision, she could see that everyone was still sitting in the same place and the new man with red hair had backed off and was looking at her with strange eyes. But just as she was about to pull the tiny bullet close to the eye socket, she felt a tug in the opposite direction, as if the bullet were being pulled backwards. Suddenly, her mind emptied, Mark’s mind disappeared from her awareness, and she felt lost and disorientated. She was no longer inside Mark’s mind. She had been shoved out, forced out. How?
The final shove out had been so strong Maria fell back into the couch with a groan, dizziness overtook her. She felt as if someone had slammed down on her mind like a vice, clamping it away from everything else in the room, only for a short moment, but that moment was enough to throw her out of balance, and out of Marks head.
Red laughed as he took a seat across from the couch next to Betty. He smiled as he watched Maria feel the twist of his own greater mental strength. He suddenly recognized her as the girl in the park with Betty many years ago. She had talent then too. What is she? A witch? Or something more? This needs looking into, but not today, time is running out. The men are waiting for a march, a march that will easily turn into a riot. How dare this girl play with Mark’s mind, and mess up my plans. She was about to destroy my greatest weapon. Mark’s anger turned heads, people listened to him and he drew them in like the pied piper. Discontent did the rest.
Red’s anger began to build as he realized that Mark’s sister must have recruited the girl for this visit. How dare she mess with my Mad Man Mark? His pain is what builds and holds him to me. Without the pain, what would Mark be? Mark is a natural with people, a great preacher. People gather around him like flies, on sand paper. Red laughed out loud at his own joke and watched as Maria sank deeper into the couch cushion.
When Maria opened her eyes, she saw the white man with red hair smiling at her with his mouth, but his eyes told a different story. She knew he was the one who pulled her mind away from Mark and she didn’t know what to do. Dare she try again?
Betty looked over to her as if to ask her what had happened but Maria couldn't speak for a minute, and then didn't know what to say. All she could do was shake her head.
The bullet was still stuck in Mark’s head. Now what? The powerful man across from her, who ever it was, far out-beat her own effort. Who or what is that man? She wondered with a frown.
She soon found out, they all did. Even Mark, who’s ever present pain had traversed towards the front of his face for some reason and then intensified. He was completely flabbergasted as to why this should happen, especially now, when he urgently needed to meet with the men gathered and waiting for his ok to begin the march.
Still smiling, Red stood up. "Mark, we must hurry. It is time to leave.”
He called Mark over to him and whispered, “Put your visitors in the back room and lock it. They need to be kept quiet so we can finish the march.”
When Mark started to protest, he added, “We don't have time to argue."
“But that is my sister. What do you mean; put them in a back room?”
“The person sitting on the couch has tried to use magic against us. She is putting a spell on us to stop us from what we need to do. Surly, you don’t want to stop.”
Mark put his hand up to his head; it felt ready to burst, and said, "I am not so sure. Maybe we are moving too fast here."
"No second choices. What is done is done, or almost. We need to finish the job. "
Mark motioned Red further into the hallway, away from the others. "I don't want anything to happen to my sister. Why would I lock her up?"
“To protect her, dummy. Plus she might try and stop us. We are already late and the other men are waiting. Your nephew is waiting with them too. I am ready to call for the truck to pick up the boxes.” At Mark’s look of fear, he added, “A few of the men already have guns in their pockets; they don’t dare get caught by the police."
"I don't know, Red. I just don't know." Mark shook his head.
"Just do as I say. You lead and I'll follow them to the back room. When they get in there, we’ll lock the door. I told you, one of them is a witch. Didn’t you feel her putting a spell on you?"
"Maybe. Are you sure?"
"I can tell. She used magic to move that bullet around in your brain, trying to kill you."
Mark, shook his head and felt a pang of excessive pain. He had to agree. Actually, his constant headache had changed its flavor, now his head and face felt red hot.
"If it was witchery, I don't go along with that, but damn, my head feels different."
"It is a trick to stop us."
“I don’t know.”
Red couldn’t hold in his own anger any longer. “Remember this; your nephew is already at the gathering. He may have a gun too. If the police catch him, what do you think will happen? We need to get this rolling. We need to make our move fast.”
“It all looks sort of different now.”
“If I go there alone, I’ll make sure your nephew gets a gun. Do as I say, or else.”
“Who are you? I don’t understand.”
Mark sees Red’s real purpose
This time, Red, loosing patience, wrapped his own mind around Mark’s and pushed. He couldn’t force anyone to do something that didn’t fit them, but Mark had been setting up for the march for a while now. This meant that Red could move him further towards the goal whether he still wanted to reach for it or not.
“I think you’ll do as I say now.” he said to Mark.
Obediently, Mark stepped back into the room and motioned for his sister and the two young people to come and see what he had to show them.
“Let me show you something I have been working on, sis. You’ll be surprised.”
Warily, they agreed, and rose to follow. Red walked behind and as soon as they stepped into the back room, he pulled Mark out, closed the door, and locked it.
"Please, Mark,” Betty cried. What are you doing? What horrible thing do you have planned?' She began to scream, "Help."
Jeff began to shove and pound on the door.
"Just a minute," Mark yelled through the door, "It will be ok, sis.” Out of Red’s control by now, Mark turned to Red and said, "I changed my mind. I ain't going."
Red’s anger at his interrupted plans finally burst out of control. His face turned almost as red as his hair as he shoved and banged Mark up against the locked door. He sent his own anger through the door as well, trying to quiet Betty screams, to no avail. Maria and Jeffery had joined in the commotion as well by now. He did block them for a minute, but couldn’t keep at it for too long a time.
"Listen, you young punk. We gotta finish this. You go in there and quiet your sister down. Don’t forget, if I need to go alone, I’ll have Louis with me.”
Mark's eyes got big at the mention of Louis. He felt the shock of the threat flow through his body. "You son-of-a-bitch." He screamed at Red. "Don't you dare…" here he faltered. He shut up because he dare not say his biggest fear out loud because it might come true. Had it been a threat?
Red’s next statement proved that it was.
"Do as I tell you, or else. Red looked at his watch. I'll give you five minutes in there to quiet the bitch, then we walk. Shut that women up. I need to phone the men with the truck. Five minutes."
Mark unlocked the door and stepped inside. As Mark stood at the door inside the small room, his face was beet red with shame and anger. His fists at his side, he begged his sister to please stop yelling.
"I am sorry." He told her. "I truly am, but it is too late. I need to meet with Red in just a few minutes. There is nothing you can do until it is finished.” He faltered at his next words…”He’s got Louis.”
“What did you say?” Betty said as she held Jeff back from punching Mark. A great fear had settled over her at the sound of his words. Surly, it was wrong. She quieted, and repeated the question, “Mark, what did you just say?”
Mark couldn’t look at her; instead, he stared at the floor. He stood at the door with his head bowed in shame.
“Oh, my God.” Betty said. She put her hands up to her face and began to sob. “My baby, my baby. Let me out of here. Let me go to my son.”
“I can’t. I told you. It is too late. I don’t know what to do. Besides it will all be done in a short while. Nothing to worry about.”
“What will be over?” Betty asked.
Jeff and Maria looked intently at Mark as well, not understanding about Louis. “Has he been kidnapped?” Jeff asked.
“You don’t understand.” Mark said, “I got me a group waiting at the tracks. I am their leader. We are gonna march through the middle of town, make those white people listen, or else.”
This was news to all of them, news which made their predicament even more frightening because Betty’s child was with them.
The room for a long minute.
Mark finally looked up at his sister, tears in his eyes, his voice trembling,” I am sorry sis. I truly am. Then a touch of anger came back into his voice as he said, “Us dark folks have been put down long enough.”
“Not as bad as I intend to put you down.” Betty said, but put her hands to her face with worry. “I need to get my baby away from that mob.”
“It ain’t a mob. I am their leader. Ain’t no one gonna march without me.” He turned to Maria, and asked, "Red told me you are a witch. Did you do something to that bullet? I feel different."
"It is still in there. That man pushed it back when I tried to remove it, but I almost got it out."
"Are you truly a witch?" asked Mark.
"Oh, no! I would never be something like that. It is against God, I don’t know the bible real good, but I know it don’t like witches. I looked it up one day cause I was worried about a talent made me bad.”
Mark spoke, "I need all of you to be quiet so I can go back to meet with the others. I will try to defuse the anger. I’ll send Louie back here. The guns are just in case we get attacked.”
At the mention of the word, guns, Betty’s face paled and she began to shake.
"Unless, he forces you." Jeff said. Jeff wasn’t unfamiliar with the ways of streets and gangs himself; he’d been wild and homeless for a while. He could see the writing on the wall. “Unless he has a hold on you."
It was Betty who answered. Her eyes were teary, but her voice sputtered out. “My son. That is the hold that man has over Mark. My son.” Her voice dripped venom.
Mark looked like he wanted to cry. He tried not to show his fear, but he knew Red could be dangerous and now he was very afraid.
“I don’t know what else to do.” Mark said, dejected as he turned towards the door.
Chapter 14
Michael makes a drastic decision
Back in the habitat, Riala and Arial had been keeping closer tabs on Maria ever since she refused their advice. They also watched Betty’s brother, Mark. As they watch from above, they could see a dark cloud of anger build up in the room when Mark spoke to the gathering. The men raised their fists at the meetings and shouted obscenities at the injustice that the dark population had to face every day, even in the northern states.
The
angels understood the horrible injustice the Negro population faced, but they
also know that if they'd only wait a short while, Martin Luther King Jr. would
soon become a national figure with his own marches. Three years ago, Rosa Parks
had refused to move her seat on the bus, and so began the bus boycott in
Mark’s
call for violence and the use of guns at this time would undermine King’s
non-violent marches and purpose. King rightly believed people should be judged
by their character, not skin color. The character of the men in
The situation
was about to explode and Maria was about to walk right into the middle of it
all. Yet, the angels didn’t know what they could do besides watch the events
unfold. They could not stop Maria or prevent her from taking this course of
action. At the same time they watched the men gather on
The two angels worked to adjust their viewer to see through the roof and past upper floor into Mark’s flat, but by the time the angels could see into the living room, it was empty. Where did everyone go?
Frantic, they quickly made a time adjustment that would run backwards until they could watch Maria from the time she stepped into the house. They watched as Maria and her friends were escorted to the back room. Then Mark joined them, locking the room behind him.
No doubt the situation was grave. Both Riala and Ariala sent an emergency burst, a replay of the complete bundle of events that happened for the last five minutes in the house, to Michael, who had requested that they keep a watch on Maria.
A burst of mental information, though filled with a vast amount of knowledge, is complex but fast, as was Michael thinking process. Right away, he knew what needed to be done to salvage the situation and yet not interfere so deeply that Maria would be found out. He sent his own burst back to Riala and Ariala.
His
thought burst said something like this: That
darkest angel, our infamous enemy, has become involved with Maria. We must pull
her away from his mental clutches. If he learns that she has angel genes, she
will be doomed. I know now that this is the same enemy who attacked Maria’s
mind in the park long ago. This time he wears the disguise of a weapons
manufacturer. I am giving you permission to make a drastic entrance. While
Maria and her friends are still in the locked room with Betty’s brother. I want
you and Arial to suddenly appear in their midst. This will shock them all into
listening to the plan. Maria should adjust right away because she is familiar
with both of you. Explain to her that
she must make herself look like a real witch. She must try to save Mark, but
fail. He will die, but only for a short time. You and Ariala will be ready to
wake him up before any undue harm comes to him. He must stay dead long enough
to convince the man named Red that Maria failed, that when she tried to remove
the bullet, she killed Mark. This failure will make her look clumsy and inept.
It should also send the enemy away. Without Mark as his mouthpiece, he can’t
hold the men’s angry enough to stay together.
"It is a lot to pull off." Ariala said.
"So let’s move fast,” Riala said. As they left, they heard Michael say “I will take over from there.”
They knew Michael would finish the job by taking care of the dragon. Michael had been chasing the dark angel away from his evil works for a long time.
Riala and Ariala blinked their eyes and opened them again as they suddenly appeared in the middle of the four humans. Mark was about to go out the door, but he turned as they appeared. Mark, Betty and Jeffery stood staring in shock.
This job would be fun if it wasn’t so dangerous and important, thought Riala. Both angels wore white flowing gowns and had almost decided to grow instant wings for the occasion, which would have made them look like they’d just stepped out of a painting by Raphael, but finally decided that the situation was too important to play with.
"We have come to help," Ariala said with a wide smile on her face.
While Betty, Jeff and Mark stood astounded by the appearance of the two angels, Maria nodded in relief. This was the two angels she had met on the road. Then it must all be true, there really are angels at work on earth, and she wasn’t just imagining things that day on the road.
Riala said, “We can only help a little, you need to do the rest. Here is the plan. Maria you finish taking the bullet out, but you need to pretend to make it look like a bad job. We want Red to think you are a witch.”
Maria looked surprised at this.
Riala added, “It is important. It will throw him off your scent.” She smiled at the phrase because she was proud of her slang.
Maria closed her eyes, and concentrated as hard as she could to find the bullet and pull it towards Mark's face then out through his nose, which seemed simpler than anyplace else. The tiny bullet dropped to the floor and his nose began to bleed profusely."
"You must let it bleed, so Mark will get faint. Then he needs to look dead."
The two angels said, "We can't interfere much, but we can help Mark so he doesn't really die."
“But…but…but who are you?” Betty asked the two angels, looking from them to her brother who was beginning to look horrible with blood smeared and running down his face.
Jeff stood back watching the interaction as if nothing could shock him for long. He felt ready to act to protect Maria, however he could.
Mark was becoming severely drained from blood loss. He slipped down to a sitting position and then fell over onto the floor, blood pooling around his head.
Betty looked frightened at all the blood coming from Mark, but Maria took her mind off it by asking, "Do you know how to put on a good act."
“To save my son, …and brother,” she quickly added, “I could win an academy award.”
“Then pretend to hate me because I just killed your brother. It needs to look like sloppy work, like I failed.
At this point, Jeff reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jackknife. “Here, will this help? It’ll make it look like you used a dull knife. A crude way to take a bullet out.”
Maria nodded at the smartness of his idea, took the knife, bent down and put some of Mark’s blood on the blade, then stood holding the knife as it dripped blood into the floor.
Betty began her act. She screamed, "You dumb witch. You killed him. You killed my brother. Help, help!"
"I didn't mean to. I just wanted to help." Maria screamed back at her, waving the knife around.
The angels nodded their approval and disappeared.
Jeff yelled, "Damn it. You did kill him! You really are a witch."
"Help, get an ambulance."
"It is too late for an ambulance." Jeff said very loudly, as he grabbed the key from the fallen Mark, opened the door and yelled. He then ran towards the front of the house, saw Red on the phone and screamed, "Mark is dead." Then he ran back down the hall and into the back room. Red threw the phone back on its stand and followed Jeff.
The first thing Red saw when he ran into the room was Maria standing against the wall, as if in shock, holding a bloody knife, then he saw Mark lying on the floor, his face covered in blood.
Red bent over Mark and shook his body.
"Damn." Red sat back on his haunches next to the body, his mind reeling in outrageous thoughts, his face contorted in anger. The bitch really did kill him. Is there some way to put this to use? No. Mark is the person he’d set up front as leader, the centerpiece of all his plans.
When Red stood up, displeasure and hate was so evident on his face dark shadows seemed to roll through the room. Maria was afraid he was going to kill her. Instead, he kicked the side of Mark’s body, as if to wake it up from the dead.
Jeff went to Betty and hugged her. “I am so sorry. I’ll call an ambulance.”
Red glared at them together. “Fools,” He said with malice in his voice. Then with grating laughter, he looked over at Maria and said, “I am gone, for now. I’d watch my back, if I was you, witch. I don’t forget easily.” After a pause, “Damn sobbing women are getting on my nerves.”
Red turned and sauntered in a slow walk out of the room and in a more hurried pace, out of the house.
A large man, called Big Bob, wearing a brown topcoat with a big pocket to hide the gun he carried, came running up the walk just as Red was walking down the steps. “Hey Red. We’re all lined up and ready. Where’s Mark?”
Red stopped, looked at the man with such an angry face, Big Bob stepped backwards and put his hands up in front of his face as if to ward off a blow.
Big Bob heard Red mumble words almost too low to hear, “Months of work, all for nothing.” as he walked past. When Red stepped past him, Big Bob, who was so huge he didn’t usually make room for anyone, stepped off the porch steps to give Red room. He watched Red’s back as he made haste towards the corner then made a sharp turn to the left, in the opposite direction of where the men were gathering waiting for the signal to begin the march. He thought to call out that Red was going in the wrong direction, but then decided he didn’t dare. Instead, he went towards the house to get Mark.
Jeff met Big Bob on the porch.
“Mark is dead,” he told him, in a panic. “Stabbed. Go tell the others.”
“What. How?” Big Red yelled, but the look on Jeff’s face was answer enough. He turned and staggered down the steps. “Man, oh man. Bad scene.” As soon as he got to the sidewalk, he turned and hurried back the way he’d come, frightened now that everything had fallen apart and here he was carrying a gun for nothing. He hurried towards the tracks where the other men waited for Mark to give the signal, looking both ways to make sure he avoided anyone else on the street, especially the police.
Betty and Maria had stayed behind in the room with Mark who really did look dead. They both wore a worried frown of fear until the two angels appeared in the room once more.
“Don’t worry,” Riala told them. We wanted to wait for a short while until we were sure that man named Red had left. Riala touched Mark’s cheek and rubbed it gently. They heard Mark moan in a struggle to wake up, his head rolling in a pool of dried blood.
“He will be fine now.” Riala said.
Jeff came back and said, “The word is out. One of the men went back to tell the others about Mark’s death.
“That is good. It will put a halt to the gathering this day.” Riala said. “Just as Michael predicted it would.”
Maria shuddered, and asked, “What if that horrid man comes back?”
Ariala said, “He won’t be back. Michael is always on the lookout for…she hesitated…people like him. He will put him on the run.”
Betty
said with excitement, “Michael? You mean Michael the
The two angels smiled, but only nodded good-by, but added, “Maria, remember what we told you about being careful.”
They both faded away until they were gone from the room, as if they’d never been.
“I know who they mean by Michael,” Betty told the others. I can recite that bible verse by heart, and she did:
“Revelation 12:7-9:”
“Then war broke out in heaven; Michael and his angels battled against the dragon. The dragon and its angels fought back, but they did not prevail and there was no longer any place for them in heaven.”
Maria
looked thoughtful at her words. “You know your bible better than I do. I
remember from church that Michael the
“Wow! You think this is the end of days?” Jeff asked.
Maria looked at him with a puzzled frown, “I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. The angels warned me not to help because it might cause a disaster. I guess if it was the end of things, they wouldn’t care about a small disaster. Would they?”
“Sounds right to me.” Jeff said as he helped Mark climb off the floor. “Man, you look a mess.”
“I feel like a mess.” Mark said as he looked down. “But you know, I don’t have a headache. First time in a long while.”
“You can thank Maria; she pulled that bullet out of your dizzy brain.” Betty said.
Mark looked sheepish, “I am sorry, sis. Truly I am.” He looked at Maria. “I guess I have you to thank. I really do thank you.”
Just then they heard Louis’ voice call through the house, his voice gasping from lack of breath because he'd run the whole two blocks, up the porch steps, and into the house.
“Mark, Mark,” he cried as he stumbled the back room.
“Well, well.” Betty said with a stern voice, but a soft relieved face as if her upside-down world had just turned right-side up again.
Mark was leaning against the wall, rubbing at the dried blood on his face.
“They said you were dead.” Louis cried, as he leaned against the door frame.
“And you young man will wish you were by the time I get done with you.” Betty said, with a stern voice, her hands on her hips, her face had taken on a deliberately angry look.
Louis stood still, panting, an apologetic look on his face as he reluctantly looked over at his mother.
“But come here first so I can give you a hug.”
Louie smiled and fell into his mother’s arms. “I didn’t know what to do, mom. I am sorry I came with Mark. Honest.”
“Guess all’s well that end’s well.” Betty said, then added, “I am through with worry. Let's all climb back in Jeff’s car and go get a root beer at the A & W. My treat.”
“Not me,” Mark said. “I need to clean myself up, and then maybe go talk to some guys about a march that don’t need to happen. I didn’t know what Red was truly like. I am sorry.”
He shook his head and smiled as if amazed that the pain was gone. “Thanks big sister, and the rest of you.”
“Apology accepted.” Betty said. “But it is the angels who you need to thank. See you in church Sunday.”
Mark smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe.”
Jeff stepped in before it turned into an argument, “A root beer. That sounds great. I am dying of thirst.”
“I agree.” Maria said as she let Jeff take her arm and lead every her out of the house and towards the car. As the group stepped outside, they noticed how dark the sky had become. Loud bursts of thunder seemed to be pounding the sky open until it lit up in blaze after blaze of lightening strikes.
“Oh, Lord. I hope it is just a quick summer storm.” Betty said as she grabbed Louis’ hand and ran towards Jeff’s car to beat the rain.
The rain never
came because it wasn’t that kind of storm. The thunder roared louder as Jeff
pulled away to drive back towards
Events had finally worked out well and the reader might think this is the end of the story; but as it turned out, the events launched a new beginning, a promise of something fresh and new for the people of earth.
Chapter 15
Michael fights the dragon
Michael stood at the corner of St.
Antoine and Adams, two blocks from the house on
Michael knew this was a pivotal time to catch the darkest angel. The old dragon was still weighted down by the man’s body he had put on, like you’d put on clothing, and like a man sinking into the depths, and it would be hard for him to get that clothing off quickly.
Watching diligently, he saw Red, walking swiftly in his direction, his red hair shinning beneath the sun, his dark coat flapping as his stride picked up its pace. Ah, but his step faltered. His angel nose quivered at Michael’s presence. Michael smiled as he watched the interplay of emotions on the dragon’s human face, first uncertainty, then a growing awareness of who stood in his path. Michael had waited many years to get the dragon to this stand-off. He intended to send him running for a long while before this day was done, on a Sunday too. God’s day, a day of reckoning. Michael smiled.
Michael didn’t give Red a chance to turn down the next street. Quick as a blink, Michael stood in his path. Red made as if to escape, but then made the first move by using his shoulder to shove Michael out of his way, but Michael stood firm.
“Not this time. You won’t elude me this time.” As Michael said this, he made a fighting stance and punched with his right.
Soon enough, the two men, one tall and slim, with dark hair, and skin and the other large bodied with light skin and red hair were in full battle. This is the fight the people saw as they came to watch, yelling out, “Kick him brother, put him down.”
The onlookers totally missed the real battle. The real battle was being fought in the sky above the clouds. It chased the birds from their well flown path, blew tree limbs asunder, and stirred up violent winds to churn the sky into a cauldron of twisting air.
Thunder and lightening surrounded each fighter, their spirit bodies in full battle array. Michael taller than the atmosphere, mightier than a tornado, grew giant iridescent wings, sfor quick maneuverability against his winged opponent. His wings flashed daggers of light that reflected off the blazing sword of fire he held in his hand, as if the sun itself shone out of the sword’s length.
The other spirit, also a giant, his red wings dagger sharp like the curled barbs on hooks, welded a sword of black ebony forged from the blood of souls in the dungeons below the earth.
The very knowledge of those dammed souls grew Michael’s determination to end the reign of dark angels, of which there were many. Within seconds, dark ones gathered behind their leader just as angels of light came to watch Michael. Both sides swayed and tossed like leaves in the storm stirred up during the battle, but none left, and none dared to join in the battle.
This battle was foretold long ago, a battle that needed to be fought, an end point battle that would bring peace for a time or mayhem. Not the final battle, that end of days battle was still far off; nevertheless, it was a fight that would save many souls from falling to the dark side.
The battle was almost evenly matched, but not quite. Every time Michael swung God’s sward of blazing fire, and met the dragon’s black sword with a clang of steel upon steel, the dragon became reduced in size and strength. At one point, a jab with the black sward nicked Michael’s chest, turning him sideways and forcing him to take an extra deep breath through pain, but then Michael suddenly turned back around to totally surprise the dark one in a quick thrust. God’s sword of light caught the dark-blood sword out of the evil one’s hand. The devil stood helpless and defeated.
This was why the devil remained a coward always trying to keep hidden from the angels of light. The followers of God were superior; this was a well known fact. It was for this reason that the angels of darkness had to resort to deceit and manipulation.
The crowds below gave up watching the fight; they ran to hide in their homes because the sky had turned black and angry. Each roar of thunder and streak of lightening doubled their fear. The people were afraid a tornado was screaming towards them.
Even with the black sword down, the battle raged for long minutes more, but finally, Michael stood high over the red, fallen dragon with the point of the sword on its chest as the dragon screamed out foul words of hatred, its spirit now shrunken and growing shriveled and wrinkled in its loss.
Michael had already disappeared from the scene on the city street. The man called Red now lay on the sidewalk, emptied of the dark spirit’s life force that had possessed him. The man slowly got up on his knees, and was too fearful of the sky to get up and run; instead, he crawled away from the dark thunder overhead..
The dark angel too, crawled through black clouds of lightening and thunder. Finally, two of his followers grabbed his reduced form and pulled him the rest of the way towards the vortex just now created in the clouds to receive them. The vortex fell down into the abyss of the earth.
Michael stood tall, still holding God’s sward of fire, his form reaching from above the clouds to the stars.
“Go, down to the neither world,” his voice roared. “Go back where you come from. God banished you to crawl beneath the feet of man. Now I say, be gone from the light of this day.”
Michael still in his might, looked down through the clouds and watched Maria and her friends run towards Jeffery’s car. He saw Bad Bob talking to the gathered men just before they scattered to the winds. They too had become afraid of the sky. The few men carrying guns felt ashamed, not sure why they had the guns or what to do with them. They went home silently and hid them away.
As Jeffery’s car drove away, Michael looked over to the group of the angels of light who had gathered from around the earth to watch the battle. Michael stabbed God’s sward of fire through the cloud and into the earth where the dark one had been dragged down just before he and his followers disappeared. All the angels, Michael included, bent on one knee and nodded their heads in prayer to honor God and the power of his Sword of Fire.
Slowly, Michael’s form, no longer in need of such awesome energy, grew back to normal size. The wings disappeared as well. When his breath was calm, Michael said to the other angels, “He will sneak back again soon enough, but for now, let there be peace on earth.”
A great cheer rang through the blue sky calling upon the sun to shine once more through white fluffy clouds. The cheer echoed over and over for days afterwards, though only angels could hear it.
The angels make an important decision
A year and a half later, Riala sat at her work station thinking instead of working. She’d let a monarch butterfly land on her hand and was looking closely at the tiny veins and the intricate pattern on its wings. Nothing special was going on. She’d just checked Maria, watched her doing homework after school. Checked all around her life, her mother, father, sisters and brothers. Then she’d checked her boyfriend Jeffery, her friends and even Betty Lou and her family. Everything seemed normal, no disaster, and no events out of the ordinary. Little problems here and there but all of it ordinary. She felt good because she knew she’d played a small part in making things normal again.
She
sent to Chaella and Ariala the news or lack of it. “Have you noticed? Nothing bad
has happened like we thought it would after Maria used her talent.”
Ariala
sent back, while busy at her own monitor,
“Yes, I know. I checked last week. Everything seems ok.”
Chaella
pushed her own thoughts in, “I check all
the time. I really do.”
“We
believe you. You enjoy worrying.”
“I
guess I don’t need to worry anymore. No disaster.”
Riala
answered, “We should gather all the
angels together and talk to Michael about it. This is important information.”
“I
saw Michael just a while ago,” Chaella told them.
“I’ll contact him and ask about a meeting,” Riala said. Then she cut off contacts with her friends so she could concentrate on calling Michael and the other angels.
Most of the angels agreed to meet in the central conclave behind the lower workstation. It was a large area, encircled by workstations, with a domed ceiling made completely of transparent material which allowed the clouds and stars to shine through. Sometimes, an angel or two would set up cots in the lower level to use for sleeping quarters because the dark night sky reminded them of home. The area was their usual meeting place if and when they chose to gather in person, which wasn’t very often or necessary since World War II ended, almost fifteen years ago.
Michael appeared in the meeting hall where about twenty angels had already gathered.
“Some angels are down on earth and it would be inconvenient to call them back to the habitat, but I agree that this is an important subject that we need to discuss.”
A few of the angels weren’t up on what had happened with Maria because they traveled back and forth from earth often, so Michael gave them a quick run down on the latest event concerning Maria.
As most of you know, Maria was born from Serapha and a young man on earth. Both lost their lives in a tornado in 1943. We sent Serapha’s body back home. Maria was orphaned and placed with a family. I and others have kept track of her whereabouts and the angelic abilities she inherited from her mother. Fortunately, she learned early on to use them wisely or to hide most of her talent.
Just recently this changed. Riala and Ariala went down to warn her not to use her telekinetic ability. She didn’t even know what to call it, she is that green. She listened and we thought she would heed our warning. She did not.
At this point, Raphael asked, “What did she do exactly?”
“You have been away quite a lot so
aren’t as knowledgeable about Maria as some. Her friend’s son was rallying the
Negro population in
“Was she successful?”
“Amazingly so. I felt proud of her decision even though I believed it would set up a far worse danger.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing. That is what this discussion is about. It all happened a year and a half ago. No disaster yet. It is up to us to figure out why not. Why no hurricane or tornado or earthquake or some other damaging event? When Maria took the bullet out of Marks brain, she used one of her angel talents to change history. What might have become a war between the races, in at least one city, was averted. It was a smoldering fire that sputtered out without a leader to fan the flame. Potentially, the change flowed like a river up the time slope.
Riala spoke up. “I have been thinking about this for a long while and think the answer has to do with time.”
Raphael asked, “What do you mean by time?”
“We are from the far future, so far away in the future that we almost stopped belonging to the human race. This could mean that what we do has a greater effect then normal. Maybe the world or something like fate keeps trying to snap back into place after we disturb it. Maybe Maria disturbed it less because she belongs to this time.”
Riala felt embarrassed that she’d talked so much and began twisting her hair as she waited for a response, desperately hoping it was a good one.
“Yes,” Ariala agreed, “As if the earth keeps trying to right itself if we interfere too much.”
“Some of us have known and even studied the effect we angels can have on the world, good and bad,” Michael said. “You are right Riala. Maria is one with the earth. For this reason, the earth doesn’t need to readjust to itself to her actions, even though she did something extraordinary. The theory seems valid.” Michael couldn’t help adding, but with a smile, “This theory was discussed in your earth/time-class, for those who might have missed it.”
Riala was glad to see that a number of angels looked sheepish after Michael’s remark, not just her and Ariala.
Michael continued. “This theory seems to be the right answer. We are here by God’s decree allowing us to help our long ago ancestors. We’ve known for a long while to be careful and not disrupt the time continuum. But now…? Throw out your ideas. We need to work with this new information. If it fits, what do we do about it?”
Many angels sent ideas forward, yet none seemed to solve the problem of how they could interfere as intensely as Maria had, short of everyone mating with humans and making babies. Finally, the best idea came from Chaella, which was surprising because she was so sensitive she usually stayed in the background. Or perhaps it was her deep sensitivity that gave her the answer.
“We could just give humans a few of our angel genes. You know, give them a few angel talents. That way, they could fix themselves up and not depend on us so much.”
The room was silent for a moment, and then Michael broke the silence with a laugh.
“We don’t need to give humans angel genes,” Michael said, humor in his voice. “Remember, these are our ancestors, they already have the same genes we do, they just aren’t using them in the same way.”
“Ah, but how can we wake those sleeping genes up?” Urines said.
Riala said, “If we could, it would be great, it would help people have a better understanding of each other. They might start to feel each other’s pain, empathize like we do. That would make our job easier, wouldn’t it?
“Truly it would,” many angels agreed in unison. “But how to tweak those sleeping genes awake?”
“We could tweak a few genes in babies and by the time they had children and grandchildren the change would really settle in.” It would be a slow process; it would take a long time before we’d see any real change.”
“Those babies would need to learn to use their abilities wisely.”
“They could. Maria did?” Riala said.
“Yes, Maria did, but isn’t she special. She has many talents. I also worry that this is too much interference?” Raphael said.
“We will of course ask God, but I doubt if it is too much interference.” Michael said. “We won’t change a person, only wake up a few genes to open up their hidden potential. Even so, many people may never discover they have any talents.”
“That’s true. So ideally, we must wakeup the genes of a few people from every nation knowing that most will fall by the wayside.”
They all agreed it sounded like a good idea.
“Wait!” Urines said. “What if someone we give talent to misuses it. What if they turn it to the bad side?”
“That can’t always be stopped, but we aren’t helpless. We could watch each person we wake up?” Riala said.
“And if they still choose to walk the dark path? Urines asked.
“We’ll do what we can to turn them back around. We already do this now with many people.” Ariala said.
Michael held up his hand to quiet the discussion. He said, “God has already agreed with the experiment, but we must keep it limited until we know the results.”
Excitement gripped all the angels at this new chore. “Leave it to me.” Raphael said, “I’ll figure out how we can easily wake up sleepy genes on a routine basis.”
No one doubted she could find a way. Raphael was the most skillful healer they had with them in the sky of earth.
“Then we will sit back and watch how the humans turn their world to good.” Chaella said.
A dim voice, called out. “Now so fast. What about our enemy? He is down for now, but he’ll be back. Have you forgotten how he turns good into evil? If he catches on to what we are doing, won’t he make it work for the dark side? Copy-cat that he is?”
“We won’t allow the dark path to get even a glimmer of our efforts. We will keep our work silent and hidden.” Someone else said.
“I agree it has its dangers. But right now, I see more hope than harm in this new avenue to helping humans help themselves. Even God has given us his stamp of approval. This means it is worth a try.” Michael said, then added, “But remember, it will be many years before we see a change. Perhaps not until the twenty-first century?”
After their decision of the means, Michael spoke of the culture prevalent on earth. “We need to change the culture to be more open to special abilities. Tweaking the genes is only the first part, changing the culture to be more accepting of talent will be the harder task. Leave it to me, I find the idea challenging enough to keep me busy for the next hundred years. Michael laughed as did everyone. What was a hundred earth years to an angel?
After the meeting ended, Michael suggested to Riala that she go down to earth and tell Maria about their decision.
Days later when Maria was sitting in a public park all alone reading, Riala came over and sat beside her. Maria looked over and recognized her.
Riala told Maria about Michael’s decision to start waking up talents in people.
Maria smiled as she said, “Then I won’t be alone anymore? I used to think these talents were a curse. I guess if other people start to have the same abilities as me then the talents will be valuable.”
“We think so. We think that the more humans can know and understand each other, the better their world will become, but it will take a long time before any of these talents show up.”
“Well, I guess I’ll wait. Thanks for letting me know.”
“No. We thank you.”
Suddenly the angel was gone, but a glow of hope stayed in Maria’s heart for a long while after.
Chaella’s first assignment on earth would the most pleasing job any angel could get for an assignment, and she knew it. It seemed like it had taken forever to get permission to go to earth, then to get a job like this! She was too excited to stop moving. She wasn’t on earth to fix a problem, she was here to become a nanny, to hold and hug each baby for a short while, long enough to wake up a pathway inside their sleeping mind. So easy, yet it would be so much fun.
The angels set to work waking up a different talent here and a talent there in a number of humans, changes that would pass down from parent to child, changes that had the potential to open new pathways to even more talents over the years, but the dark angels didn’t stay down, they never do. When the dark angels finally got a hint of what was going on, they began a campaign to mock and degrade all special abilities. They worked through the media of television and news to make fun of people with talent. It had always been their purpose to keep all special talents buried in the human psyche and culture, but they didn’t always win.
Many readers know that once in a while they hear a word before it is spoken, see further into a person than ordinary, glimpse a rainbow overhead, sometimes feel another person’s hurt, or find an object that seemed to scoot to a different place all by itself. It doesn’t matter if the dark angels make fun of certain talents, if the reader keeps silent about their own special ability, as they grow into adulthood, their talent will mature along with them and one day blossom into a wondrous, silent connection between God, angels and very special friends.
The End