Chapter 35
Michael plopped down on the futon in his makeshift office and stared off toward the opposite wall. Alicia was worried about how muted and motionless he’d been since they returned from the hospital. Normally engaged into some sort of activity, whether passing off papers for her to help in grading, modifying elements of the syllabuses for his current classes, or working on one of his research projects, he would be occupied with some form of intellectual endeavor. Many of his peers would have some level of trepidation in working on Religious Studies Department-mandated dissertations or essays for the college journal. Michael enjoyed it. There was still a demand for information about what had happened to the millions who’d disappeared ten years earlier.
Even though many theologians and he himself didn’t have any direct answers, Michael felt the answers could be revealed somewhere in the background of the various world religions. Many contained distinct dogmas stating that there would be a great evacuation of unbelievers in their respective beliefs. They had all fallen into disfavor, however, since the prophesized chronological events purported to follow immediately never materialized. There was no worldwide tribulation, no great peace awakening, and no great return of a foretold desert prophet. After three years of cleanup, successive rioting, and stabilization for the world’s governments, the remaining of the world's population wanted things to go back to normal. Quickly, the world returned to status quo. The only supernatural events were nearly ten years of unsubstantiated angels appearing at funerals and presenting eulogies. Numerous people still doubted these events because most of the population hadn’t witnessed any alleged spiritual beings. Now Michael had seen one, or so he thought.
“Hon’, is everything OK?” Alicia whispered as she sat down next Michael. He remained silent.
She’d never experienced him like this before. He just sat there contemplating whatever was running through his mind.
“I’m going to get ready to head out and catch up with my study group. Did you want anything before I go?” Alicia offered. Michael remained silent.
Sitting for only a couple more minutes, Alicia kissed him on the cheek and got up, not sure what else to say to him. She wasn’t even sure why he’d become so withdrawn. Something happened. When Michael followed the Father and Sister Justine from the waiting area of the emergency room at the hospital and then returned nearly 15 minutes later, he’d changed. Alicia recalled that an unconscious man was brought out on a gurney attended by a medical team. A woman in her early thirties, crying hysterically, was holding onto the man’s hand. Michael, Father Hernandez and Sister Justine followed, all three appearing to have a mild catatonic expression. The Father’s fawn complexion was disturbingly bloodless while the Sister’s face was rosy as if she was emotionally overwhelmed. Michael’s honey-toned complexion, one of the attributes she thought made him extremely handsome, was flushed and discolored.
Twenty minutes later, after taking a shower, Alicia had changed into jeans with holes ripped at the knees and a vibrant, lightweight red-and-blue-patterned blouse. She grabbed her book bag and then glanced into Michael’s office one final time before leaving. He was still sitting on the futon unresponsive. She decided to leave without saying good-bye or letting him know what time to expect her back. Early in their relationship of four months, when she’d mention an approximate time for her return, he’d act like he didn’t care. Lately, though, he’d signal a sigh of relief when she returned safely.
Michael’s focused contemplation shattered when he heard the front door being shut, and the locking latch click, as Alicia departed. He snapped back to the environment of the house. Usually Alicia played music in the background or tried to find a way to start up a conversation. It was uncomfortably quiet. He’d lost track of time in the last hour or so. He barely remembered Alicia mentioning she was leaving to study. All that kept coming to mind was that for a flash, maybe less than a second, his eyes pierced beyond the natural realm. He beheld an angel. With each passing minute, he was reminded of its countenance. He pondered whether it actually existed or whether he witnessed some sort of strange lighting effect. If this was true, Michael thought it funny that if Father Hernandez and Sister Justine saw the same peculiar illuminated optical illusion, they prayed to a mere shadow.
Michael wanted to add these new events to his current collection of notes. He got his notepad but words couldn’t come to him. Maybe he could type something on the computer to help collect his thoughts. Turning on the workstation, waiting for it boot up, it became harder to recollect the hospital events. Sitting at the keyboard for almost half an hour, he forced himself to spew indiscriminate thoughts of what happened into his word processor knowing he’d return to edit his work later.
“You’re back,” Michael heard from the doorway as he was inputting the last of his contemplations. He saw Alicia drop her book bag onto the floor, flash him a large grin, and approach with her arms out to give him a hug.
“I didn’t go anywhere. I’ve been here all along,” he consoled when he returned her embrace, confused by her comment, taking her comment literally.
“You know that’s not what I meant,” she said and gave him a reaffirming squeeze. “So what happened?” she asked Michael. “Why were you tripping out like that?”
“What do you mean?” Michael still had no idea he had exhibited the symptoms of mild shock.
“You seemed like you were out of it really bad. I was really worried about you.”
Michael pondered Alicia’s being troubled about him thinking it was misplaced. “Just thought I saw something that kinda bothered me, that’s all.”
“What’d you think you saw?
Michael didn’t know how to explain it. “You wouldn’t believe me. Anyway, I don’t think it’s important.”
“Whatever. What was all that back at the hospital with your friends looking all freaked out too? And who was that guy on the gurney you followed into the emergency room?”
“While we were talking to that guy, he fell into coma. That’s all.” Michael decided not to elaborate any further.
“OK, weird.”
The longer Alicia talked to Michael, the more he became his normal self. And the more Michael considered what happened earlier, the more he thought what he perceived to be a supernatural creature was just an insignificant shadow, caused by the reflection of failing lights in the unkempt hospital chapel. Scanning what he just typed into his computer, he read incomprehensible sentence fragments with words that made no sense without context. He saw “breath of life,” “clone child,” “fetus,” “neph’ shamah,” “Rome,” “angelic visit.” This crap won’t help me with my classes, he thought and deleted the document.
The Fallen and the Elect Page 63
