Irish: An Angel's Journey

by David Pollitt

for, to get your stomach empty? It really works, doesn't it?" She turned to go off with her friends, who kindly pointed to some she missed and handed her a hankie to cleanup the leftovers.

  The other porch crew howled in laughter. Joe still couldn't get rid of the sweet, heavenly scent. Everyone asked him to stay down on the other end of the porch. He took the ridicule for only a second more before running back to his room for a quick shower.

  Irish yelled after Grace, "Stay with your friends, Grace. I'm going to be a watcher tonight."

  Sister Gloria hung her head slightly in disappointment as Irish moved quietly away from the motel and faded quickly into the night. Grace would be okay she thought. She was rooming with her three new buddies. Irish thought there wouldn't be any sleeping in that room tonight. Sleep wasn't necessary for angels, but she could if she wanted. Irish suspected that they'd pile into bed together and between the pillow fights and ghost stories, not sleep a wink, anyway. If they wanted to get a story about heaven from Grace, it would be from her inborn knowledge. She left too soon after her creation to actually have seen it all.

  As Irish turned to watch the kids going into their assigned rooms, she saw a figure of a man leaning against the wall of the motel. He was wearing what looked like a long trench coat and a cowboy hat. A trail of smoke filtered from his cigarette; and before Irish could order her young angels into action, he moved back into the shadows and was gone. Her gut instinct told her that he was a dark angel, but the why of it bothered her more than anything. No one bothered heir-servant angels. They were excluded from all fights and warfare and weren't fair game.

  Grace was being well taken care of by her girlfriends. They made over her as if she was queen for the day. They sat her on one of the double beds asking her all sorts of questions about heaven, but she never said a word. She kept looking at the light reflections of the mirrors coming from the bathroom.

  "What's in there?" she asked as he got up walked slowly towards the bathroom door.

  Her roommates ran past her, swung the door open, and ran over to flush the toilet. "This is where we go to the bathroom, take a shower, clean-up, brush our teeth. Don't you have bathrooms in heaven?"

  "No," said Grace as she ran her hands over the smooth-chrome toilet handle and white porcelain, then she looked at herself in the mirror and made funny faces. "We don't have anything like this. I thought this was like our water. I didn't know it could be hard like this."

  "We don't need that," she said while pointing towards the toilet and holding up the lid, but only after looking at the paper roll, then back at the toilet, then back to the roll—figuring it out on her own. She volunteered, "We don't need to eat. When we eat the leaves from the trees of life, it’s not because we’re hungry; but because, it makes us feel good. Most angels like the leaves 'cause they make us even happier—special treats from our Lord and King. The immortals eat the fruits for the same reason."

  At that moment, everyone heard a scratching at the door from a barking dog. "It's Boo Boo! He must have gotten loose from Mom," replied Mary. She was even smaller than Grace with cornrows scattered over her head. Mary opened the door and was flattened by her obese Basset Hound.

  "Euugh, Boo Boo, you smell!" yelled Mary.

  Grace grabbed her nose and moved to the other side of the room, "That dog is disgusting. He smells like, like…" She didn't have an immediate reference for it.

  "Yeah," Mary said, "he smells like garbage! Bad dog, Boo Boo! You’ve been gettin' in the garbage again! We have to give him a bath! Come on everybody! Let’s wash Boo Boo!" Everyone but Grace swarmed him. They picked him up and carried him to the bathroom.

  Grace stayed as far away as possible. She shouted at the rest, "I can't believe how gross that animal is. It's like having a stinking camel in the room. Is he one of your human experiments or did he come that way?"

  She never heard an answer; but after several minutes, she moved cautiously towards the bathroom as the smell disappeared. She heard her squealing friends and Boo Boo barking between being repeatedly doused with a 32-ounce MacDonald drink cup. Grace’s curiosity got the best of her. As she rounded the bathroom door, Boo Boo took a leap over the side of the tub and knocked down two of his scrubbers. He was covered with soapsuds from head to tail. Grace stared mesmerized by the soap-laden, short four-legged ugliness. After hitting the tile floor, he slipped and rolled still covered with suds.

  The girls screamed at each other and Boo Boo, "Dry him off! Boo Boo, you got to get dry!"

  Boo Boo shook vigorously. Suds went all over in a spray of flying foam that covered their faces, walls, porcelain, and the mirror. A shocked Grace watched in great puzzlement thinking, "That's getting dry?"

  Still dripping from Boo Boo’s suds, she again moved as far from the bathroom as possible. This time she began looking out the window and stared at the barren landscape with the desert sand pelting against the glass.

  She thought to herself, "Earth is ugly. This stinks. Apollyon really messed everything up."

  Grace spotted the television and thought, "Now this looks interesting."

  She played with the buttons on the bottom of the screen when she accidentally hit the power button. The instantaneous screen and sound pushed her back onto the bed. It was a Jane Fonda jazzercise class. She watched it while the girls continued to towel off Boo Boo in the bathroom. She started cautiously mimicking the participants: legs up, arms up, legs sideways, arms sideways, then running in place. She couldn't stop her wings from shooting out. She was in a full-court synch with wings, legs, and arms trying to keep up with Jane. She looked like a giant human swan having a spastic fit, till she missed a step and fell down with a grand thud. She was so surprised at the impact that she didn't notice the girls laughing at her, until Boo Boo came over, still wet, but not sudsy, and jumped in her lap and licked at her face. She felt red heat in her face and neck.

  Mary pointed at Grace and laughed saying, "Look, she's blushing. She's red as a beet."

  Grace answered, "What's blushing? What’s a beet?" She self-consciously pulled her wings into herself and pushed at both the power button and Boo Boo while rolling him away from her. "Thank goodness," she thought in turning off what she considered was another human menace. She was glad heaven didn't have any of those.

  Pretzel asked a hard question, "Who's going to clean out the tub?"

  In unison the others answered, "Last one out is a monkey's Uncle."

  Pretzel lost, "Ewwh, it’s yucky!"

  Grace thought it was strange that any human could be an Uncle to a monkey. She retreated to the corner with the farthest bed. Mary and Abby answered Pretzel in some reassurance, "Just rinse it out. We're all going to have to take a shower in just a little bit." Pretzel took a whole roll of toilet paper picking up gobs of Boo Boo hair and flushed most of it down the toilet.

  There was a loud knock on the door, "You girls get ready for bed! Do you hear me!" shouted Sally, Mary's mom.

  "Okay, okay, Mom. Boo Boo is here with us. Can he stay?"

  "Sure, just make sure he stays under the bed in one spot. I don’t want to hear about hair all over the room," warned her mom.

  The girls looked at each other and back towards the bathroom, saying together, "Uh, oh." The room was full of hair, including every towel and washcloth.

  "Are you okay, Grace?" asked Sally.

  Grace answered reluctantly, "I'm adjusting, ma'am. I'll be okay." She shook her head at the events so far and thought to herself, "I hope Irish knows what she's doing taking me on this trip. Human ways are really strange, really weird." She didn't know the word weird, but her thoughts meant the same.

  The girls agreed that they needed to brush their teeth and take a shower. Pretzel figured out how to call room service, and they ordered some more towels. They hid Boo Boo under the bed when they were delivered, and he stayed put having passed out in a clean sleep.

  Mary took Grace into the bathroom and showed her the toothbrush. "This is how w
e brush our teeth. Do you have a toothbrush?"

  Grace looked at the brush mystified, then said, "No, but I can get one." She closed her eyes and immediately a similar toothbrush appeared in her hand.

  "Wow," replied Mary, "how did you do that?"

  "We do it with thoughts. How do you do it?" Grace kept looking at the toothbrush, still not knowing how to use it.

  "Oh, someone makes them, then our parents buy them for us. Do you have a Dad and Mom?"

  "No, we aren't born. We're created by the Lord." She was pleased with her own confident answer and watched as Mary put toothpaste with striped colors on her toothbrush.

  Mary replied before brushing, "This makes our breath smell sweet."

  Grace arrogantly commented, "Angels don't have to do that. We always have a sweet breath."

  The girls laughed together, poking fun at her, "Not you, girlfriend." They held their hands over their mouths and noses.

  Mary reminded Grace, "I don't think that angels in heaven ever upchucked from chewing tobacco. You've got to be a first. You really need this, trust us."

  "Well, show me then. I'm here to learn," replied a frustrated Grace.

  Mary brushed, and between rinsing, commented, "Back and forth; back and forth; up and down; up and down. You have to get it to the back. You might want to brush your tongue a little. Get the fuzz off it."

  Grace stared into the mirror and stuck out her tongue while looking for that fuzz but didn't see any. She thought, "What are these humans talking about?" then shrugged. Grace grabbed the toothpaste and smelled it, "Is this good to eat?"

  "Don't eat it!" said Mary as she grabbed the toothpaste from her. She thought, "Angels can be strange."

  They all took turns in the shower. When Grace's turn came around, they made sure the water was on, and Mary instructed her, "You get in the shower, then put this shampoo on your hair. It makes it soft and smells good too."

  Grace carefully got in the tub. After a second or two, Mary handed her the shampoo, "Here’s your stuff."

  Grace smelled it and shouted back at Mary, "Can I eat it?"

  Mary rolled her eyes, "No, you can't eat it!"

  She wondered what this angel’s deal was with wanting to eat everything. Grace put some shampoo on her hands and started massaging it into her hair. The thought came to her, "Boo Boo really needed a lot of soap to get clean." She proceeded to pour most of the bottle over her head. She decided to finish off the shampoo on her wings. After all, if it worked on her hair, wouldn’t it work on her wings? It wasn't long before she was covered with soap and bubbles. It was hard to see her for all the suds. She pulled back the shower curtain and got out without rinsing off.

  Mary heard her and came around the corner running face to face with an abominable-suds person covered from head to feather with bubbles. She couldn't even see her eyes. Mary screamed at the unexpected, a shrill, high-pitched sound, and Grace joined her, They became them the screaming duo, almost shattering the light bulbs.

  Mary recovered and ordered Grace, "You’re supposed to dry off, stupid!"

  Grace, remembered Boo Boo and stepped out into the room while shaking vigorously as she covered the bedspreads, walls, and the girls with an onslaught of soapsuds. They all screamed together trying to hide from the attack while yelling at her to stop.

  They each grabbed towels and pillows and started throwing them at her and yelled, "Dry off, bird woman, dry off! Don't you know anything?"

  Under the suds Grace glowed with a red glow of embarrassment. "Man," she thought, "I never felt this way in heaven."

  A pillow burst open and showered her with small, fluffy feathers that clung to what soap remained. Grace froze in horror as she looked at the feathers floating through the air and sternly commanded the girls’ attention, "What have you humans done? What have you done? Where did you get these feathers?" The girls looked surprised by her tone but realized exactly what Grace was thinking.

  "Oh, no, Grace, those feathers aren't from angels. They're from ducks, geese, and such." They all started laughing, including Grace, who was embarrassed again, (thinking silly of herself) and tossed several pillows back at them.

  Grace finally got the idea and toweled off best she could, but it was Pretzel who taught her how to do the towel-behind-her-back trick. Grace still felt awkward doing it, liking Boo Boo’s way better. Grace wondered why everything was so complicated with humans. This was turning into a lot of work. No wonder humans had to sleep after going through all this just to go to bed.

  Grace looked at the bed and thought, "How does this work?"

  She watched the others getting into their beds. She pulled down her covers and started to slide in while the girls watched her intently. Mary was having trouble controlling her laughter. Grace didn't understand it. She was in the bed, but her feet were stuck. She was only halfway in. She pushed at the sheet and looked strangely at the length, then back at the sheets.

  "My bed is broken," she exclaimed, and the girls rolled out of their bed while grabbing at their sides laughing.

  "What are you laughing at this time? I watched you get in. What could I have done wrong this time?" She was getting frustrated and with a stern kick thrust her feet through the sheet punching out two large tears in the bottom.

  The girls ran over in shock, "Are all angels that strong?" they thought and promised themselves not to get in a wrestling match with Grace anytime soon, not even for fun.

  "We short-sheeted you!" proclaimed Mary, and they pulled back the bedspread and showed Grace the doubled sheet covering her up to her knees with her feet sticking out the bottoms.

  "Is this a human trick? Is this what Irish calls teasing?" she laughed lightly and thought how humorless angels were in comparison to humans. She also thought she would have to get them back, something really good, and glowed warmly trying to think what it might be.

  Irish changed her form into a brilliant translucent ball of light the size of a softball with a star center. She flittered across the night sky near the motel. Only a few stargazers noticed but shook their heads and wrote her off as light reflections. She heard the playful screams of the girls and happily felt that they must be having a good time.

  They all woke from the banging on their door by Sister Gloria announcing the start of God's glorious day, "Get up kids! Praise the Lord! It’s a beautiful day! How did Grace do, girls? Has anyone seen Irish?" Gloria didn't wait for an answer. She continued the march up and down the motel room doors like a human bugle call raising an army for battle. Grace was flat on her back staring quietly at the ceiling, not making a sound.

  "You awake already, Grace?" asked Pretzel.

  "I don't know how to sleep so I tried to keep quiet. Did you know that earth has a lot of strange sounds? I recognized a couple, but there was a lot of stuff going on outside last night. Everything was making noise. Irish saw someone. I think that Apollyon may have sent someone to watch us. She was a watcher last night. I'm glad she's around. You know we have a hundred other angels with us, don't you?"

  The girls looked confused, but they didn't miss the way Grace's voice changed when she mentioned Apollyon. It scared them, but they didn't know why.

  "Who's Apollyon?" they all asked together.

  "Why do you need all those other angels? Are you in danger?" asked Mary.

  "Apollyon, you don't know? Apollyon is Lucifer, Satan, the Devil, and Beelzebub. You've heard those names, haven't you?" Grace looked at them; and noticed, they were extremely quiet. "You all are scared of him, aren't you? There's no reason to be scared of that old buzzard. All believers are protected from him. He can try to do things to you, but we’re here to protect you. Some of you have bunches of guardian angels. Didn't you know that? No, I’m not in danger because I'm going to be an heir-servant angel. They’re supposed to leave us alone. That’s the rules, at least."

  She saw the relief in their faces, then turned and waved her hand around the room. Immediately, the ro
om was full of angels: sitting on the dresser; on the ends of the beds; in the corners of the room. Those near the door and windows had their swords drawn ready for action. They were all shapes and sizes, and some were like Irish, transformed into translucent balls with star centers, moving back and forth around the room in a glorious light show. As the girls started clapping, the angels disappeared as quickly as they came.

  "You see. You didn't know they were here. Those were your angels. They didn't come with us."

  The girls ran to Grace and hugged her. Grace felt their love, but broke the moment of togetherness by her standard question, "Is there anything to eat?"

  The girls all rolled their eyes and said, "Breakfast is next, but we got to get ready. What are you going to wear, Grace?" They looked at her and stood puzzled in the middle of the room.

  "Got any ideas?" Grace looked at each of them and waited for an answer.

  Mary suggested jeans, tennis shoes, and a large t-shirt (twenty sizes too big). "Loose and sloppy is what you need."

  Grace agreed; and after several tries, she created a duplicate of their kids’ fashion. She looked at her large (xxl) t-shirt and noticed that everyone had pictures on theirs except hers. She thought for a minute. Suddenly a picture of the Pope appeared. They all shook their heads "no," and put their fingers into their mouths, a throw-up gesture.

  Pretzel whispered, "The Beatles. All white people like those guys, don’t they?"

  Grace put a bug on her shirt that looked like a roach (her version of a beetle). She saw one in the room earlier. They groaned together, but Pretzel was still trying to come up with something.

  "Do Elvis!" suggested Pretzel, another white suggestion.

  "Who's Elvis?" asked Grace. Then she remembered something and said, "This guy?" It was perfect. It was a skinny Elvis.

  She looked at them and in explanation said, "His transformed body was skinny."

  Mary exclaimed, "I know one better! How about Squirtle?"

  Grace twisted her face into an absolute cross-eyed look and almost shouted, "Who in the heck is Squirtle?"

  Mary responded back, "It’s not a who. It’s an it. Squirtle is a Pokemon."

  "Yeah!" yelled Abby. "A Pokemon is perfect. Do Raichu, not that stupid turtle!"

  "Squirtle isn’t stupid; he’s cute," answered Mary while pushing Abby away from her in disgust.

  "What’s cute got to do with it? Raichu is stronger than that hard-shelled smiley face," spoke Abby abruptly and gripped her hips firmly with both hands while bending threateningly towards Mary.

  "Oh sure, you have a Pokemon that has to squeeze his face to attack. How goofy can you get?" They were both only inches away from each other’s face, moments from a brawl.

  Both Grace and Pretzel said together, "Would you two please stop it!"

  Grace continued, "I don’t know what a Pokemon is. I hope I never meet one. In fact, I think it’s silly for you two to fuss over what sounds like two very abnormal creatures, probably stranger than that dog, that Boo Boo. Just tell me where they are, and I’ll make sure I stay away from them. I’m certainly not going to put them on my shirt! I’ll tell you who it will be, Billy Graham. Now that it’s settled, let’s go eat."

  They all looked at her strangely. Her presumption that a Pokemon was real broke up the fight, and they all burst into hysterical laughter. They all gave her thumbs up and piled out the door.

  Grace followed and suddenly they heard, "Can I eat this?" They turned around to see a wing of a butterfly sticking out of her mouth.

  They all did an Ernest, "Euuuuugh, you got to stop all that, Grace! You'll make yourself sick again, not to mention us." Grace swallowed hard, then she spotted something on the ground. It was an Armadillo lizard, and she snatched it up by the tail, opened her mouth, and yelled at her friends.

  "Can I eat it?" she asked while moving it close to her open mouth.

  They panicked and with a synchronized, full-bodied tackle, rushed her. It was knocked out of her hand as they hit the ground together. Grace looked at them and simply said, "Got you!" She had successfully accomplished her first human trick.

  They all swatted her about the head, and Irish appeared several feet away laughing, "I see she's already learning."

  Sister Gloria saw Irish, came running up to her, and put her into a giant bear hug, "How's my Lord's angel this morning?"

  Irish hugged back, then goose bumps covered her arms. Another shadow in the shape of a man was leaning against the wall of the motel, but no one was there. She broke from Gloria’s tight grip and marched towards the shadow. Grace saw it too as she picked up on Irish's thoughts.

  Irish said out loud, "Whomever you are better know that I'm an heir-servant. No one has ever broken the rules of peace with us, yet. It better not start now."

  The shadow remained. As she approached, she shouted again, "I'm heir-servant. You're not allowed to do me harm. Leave, and know that there are more here than just myself."

  The shadow quivered slightly like it was being blown by the wind, and a voice hissed through the morning air, "But she isn't, yet."

  The shadow's arm pointed directly at Grace beside Irish, then disappeared. Instantly, as if on command, Irish's small army appeared seen only by her and Grace then set up a tight-search pattern. Irish knew from that one statement that Grace was in danger, and she knew the dark angel was right. Grace wasn’t heir-servant yet. She would be once the trip was done. At that time, she would receive her rainbow colors. The thought of anything happening to Grace sent chills up her spine.

  Grace looked at Irish and could tell that she was blocking her thoughts. She heard the threat too. She knew she was in danger, and that it was bothering Irish. She touched Irish's arm affectionately and whispered, "It's okay, Irish. What good can hurting a puny, little angel like me do?"

  "Indeed?" answered Irish while wondering what Apollyon was up to.

      

  Tare’s Mission

  Apollyon sat back on his cold throne forcibly rubbing at his face while considering Tare's recent encounter with Irish. He wasn't able to see the other angels with Irish, and he still didn't know how well protected she was. Her mission didn't bother him since it was standard practice for experienced heir-servants to take newly created angels for these kinds of journeys. What fascinated him was the company she started out with, Aaron. He tried putting it together as: Grace is a child, and Aaron is the "Protector of Children." He still figured it was more than that. Thousands of newly created angels were accompanied by heir-servants on similar journeys in other places without Aaron. He heard that Irish was special to Aaron; if that were the case, then Irish could be more useful to Apollyon than just stopping a new creation from getting her colors.

  Apollyon felt the existence of heir-servants was a grand proclamation about the weakness of man. They always needed special help, special provision, and special deliverance. They were so weak and frail that they disgusted him.

  Tare crawled on his stomach towards Apollyon until he was within Apollyon’s reach. Tare looked like a broken hound that begged for his master's touch and approval while cowering before Apollyon, afraid to look into his eyes, afraid of disapproval.

  "I believe she got the message. Do you think she has any idea what we're up to?" asked Apollyon.

  Tare rose up on his haunches, still not looking directly at Apollyon. "I don't believe so. I know she'll be in touch with Aaron soon. It was just enough to put a good scare into her. When do you want to do it?"

  Apollyon climbed down from his rock throne and placed his hand on Tare's head, then patted it gently. How he appreciated the base groveling of those he ruled. He was king in this universe of terror. This subjection of Tare's just made it more enjoyable.

  "Soon, just stay close. You need to get an idea about how many are with her, and I don't mean those guardians. They don't count. Irish's mission is too simple to have help from Aaron. It can’t be just to help or impress those believers."r />
  He continued, "I can't imagine Irish and Grace staying with this group for long. They always take a journey, and an eight-hour trip is not exactly what I call a long trip. They'll be breaking away from the believers soon enough. In the meantime, let's put our plan into action."

  Apollyon shook his head in discomfort, "I don't like the power those believers have. It makes it difficult for us to have free reign. If possible, we need to steer clear of them. We'll still stick to our plans but try to move as far from them as possible when the time comes. Remember, we need to get that head count and get Aaron too. Keep in touch."

  Tare began to leave, almost slithering backwards and said, "I will dark master. I will."

      

  Spotting The Weasel

  The church made its way to the buses after a hearty brunch since most slept in late. Grace’s friends were astonished at how much she ate, including Irish.