An Archangel's Ache

by Leo E. Ndelle

  “Right now, my home, Celestia, not heaven,” Donald smiled at ‘heaven,’ “is having a celestial crisis, and I mean that in a very literal sense. If I do not return and defuse the situation, then there will be another war between the Realms of Celestia and Hell. Worst still, this crisis may spread beyond our dimension, and I can’t let that happen. When it is all over, I will return, and we will all catch up. But for now, uh ‘time’ is of utmost importance. Alright?”

  Patrick, Sara, and Newman were too shocked to say anything. Eliel chuckled amicably.

  “I understand,” Eliel said. “But like I said, we’ll catch up later.”

  He then turned his attention to Sara.

  “You really don’t know who and what you are, do you, Sara?” Eliel asked telepathically and only Sara could hear him speak to her.

  Sara said nothing. Eliel nodded.

  “Soon, very soon, you will know. I promise you!” Eliel assured her.

  Eliel then turned his attention to the rest of the group.

  “Good bye, my friends! I’ll see you folks soon!” he said.

  And with these words, Eliel turned his gaze towards the sky before he teleported upwards in a beam of golden light. Newman, Patrick and Sara gawked in awe and wonder for a very, very long time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  SOUND THE ALARM

  PATRICK, SARA, AND Newman stood silently on Newman’s front porch. For several minutes, no one said anything. It was Patrick who finally broke the silence. He turned his attention towards Newman.

  “You gonna be alright, old man?” he asked Newman.

  “May take a while, but I think I’ll be fine,” Newman replied weakly, feeling overwhelmed by the surreal events that just happened, coupled with a deep sense of loss.

  “It’s gon’ be alright, Newman,” Sara said, taking Newman’s right hand in her hands and squeezing it lightly. “Well, at least, you know you got an angel looking out for ya, right? And not just any angel; THE angel! What was that he said again, Patrick?”

  “The highest-ranking ARCHANGEL there ever was!” Patrick replied, smiling broadly.

  This made Newman smile a little.

  “Thanks, you two!” Newman said gratefully.

  “Of course, Newman,” Sara replied. “And hey, I’m still around, right?” she added, grinning broadly.

  “Yes, Sara, you’re still here, and for that, I’m grateful!” Newman agreed. “You’ve always been good to me.”

  “As you have been to me,” Sara replied and kissed him on the cheek. “You get some rest now. Patrick and I will head back ourselves.”

  “Where’s your car?” Newman asked.

  “We’re parked up the street,” Patrick lied.

  “Lemme drop you kids off at least-” Newman offered, but Patrick waved him off.

  “No need to, old man!” he said, smiling. “You just work on getting some rest. You certainly could use some right about now!”

  “Yes, Newman, you do need some rest,” Sara insisted. “Please?”

  “Okay, okay!” Newman conceded and walked towards the door.

  He stopped and turned around.

  “I’ll see you around, Sara,” Newman said. “And as for you, young man, I take it I won’t be seeing ya in these parts for a while, huh?”

  “Maybe under better circumstances,” Patrick replied with a smile. “And speaking of ‘better circumstances’, I trust you won’t be sharing what you just witnessed with anyone?”

  “Really?” Newman asked, staring at Patrick in disbelief.

  “I need an answer, old man,” Patrick said.

  “No, I won’t tell nobody nothin’,” Newman said.

  “And by nothin’ you do mean NOTHIN’, right?” Patrick insisted.

  “Absolutely, Patrick,” Newman replied. “I’m just an old man with a very bad memory. Part of the perks, ya know!”

  “Good to know, old man,” Patrick said and winked at Newman. “Good to know!”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, Patrick” Newman said. “But I’d rather not see you again!”

  “No offense taken, old man!” Patrick said. “Your wish is my command,” he added with a bow.

  “Yeah right!” Newman scoffed and shook his head. “You two be careful!”

  Newman walked into his house and locked the door behind him.

  “What was that about?” Sara asked Patrick.

  “Let’s just say I had a little chat with Newman earlier,” Patrick replied. “It’s a short story. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Okay…” Sara said, giving Patrick a suspicious look.

  “Ready to go for a walk?” Patrick asked Sara.

  Sara sighed and laced her fingers with Patrick’s. The morning shine from Solara was a very dull comparison to the smile on her face.

  “Absolutely!” Sara replied.

  The couple walked away from Newman’s house.

  “You know I still woulda asked if Newman wasn’t spying on us, right?” Patrick said.

  “I appreciate that Patrick,” Sara replied. “And yes, I believe ya!”

  As they walked away, Patrick reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed a number and waited. When he heard a voice through the phone speakers, he issued some quick orders and dismissed the remaining agents. Their mission was over. They were to report back to Rome immediately and file their respective reports. One-by-one, the O. R. agents emerged from their hiding spots around Newman’s house and blended with the town. None of them had seen Sara because Patrick had concealed Sara with a cloak of invisibility.

  When Patrick and Sara were both confident they were out of sight from Newman’s house, they teleported back to the motel room. About an hour later, they lay in bed, spent, satisfied and relaxed.

  “I, uh… I gotta head back to Rome now.” Patrick said after a while. “Gotta be debriefed.”

  “I understand,” Sara replied, still nuzzled against his chest.

  “Good thing I’m just a hop away, huh,” Patrick said and smiled.

  “Yeah, I guess,” Sara’s response was heavy with sadness.

  She gently peeled herself away from him and propped herself on an elbow.

  “If I never see you again, I’ll understand,” she added and started sliding off the bed.

  Patrick sat up and took Sara by the shoulders. Sara sat at the edge of the bed, her feet on the floor and her eyes averted towards the floor.

  “Hey, now,” Patrick said softly. “Look at me,” he urged gently.

  Sara’s eyes remained averted to the floor. She could not muster the courage to face Patrick. She was neither angry at Patrick nor at herself. She regretted nothing and, honestly, if she could rewind time and have a stab of this aspect of her history that was Patrick, she would not hesitate for one bit. She would do it all over again for a million lifetimes. So why could she not summon the courage to face Patrick? As powerful a creature as she was, Sara felt powerless to the inevitability that was about to come to pass. She had said ‘goodbye’ to too many humans to remember in 26,000 years. But all those millennia of practice summed up to naught when it came to Patrick.

  In the short span of time she had spent with Patrick, Sara had developed deep feelings for him. The last twenty-six millennia had been replete with lovers, acquaintances and bed partners too many to count. But with Patrick, it was different. She was far from smitten by their sex sessions. Her feelings were not the imaginings of a naïve girl with a grandiose fantasy of a perfect, eternal love. By Creation, she was not even human! She had lived longer than any other human she knew. Despite it all, she had fallen madly and hopelessly in love with one. And now, her heart was many millions of shattered pieces she was desperately trying to glue together by nothing more than a willpower she could not even hold on to.

  “I’m sorry, Patrick,” there was a lump in Sara’s throat as she spoke. “I shouldn’t have become so attached so shortly. Don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine.”

  “Look a
t me, Sara,” Patrick urged her, ignoring what she said.

  Sara sniveled. Summoning some strength, she turned towards Patrick, but she could not bring herself to look at him in the eye. He placed a finger under her chin and raised her head so that she was facing him. She let him raise her chin but kept her eyes closed.

  “Look at me, Sara,” Patrick urged again. “Please.”

  Sara opened her eyes, and they were a pair of magnificent, but sad, violet-glowing orbs. A tear streaked down each of her cheeks. He kissed each cheek, and she gave a weak smile.

  “I just gotta be debriefed, and I’m just a hop away,” Patrick said. “And just so you know, you’re not the only one in this dump of a motel who’s become a little too attached. Alright?” he smiled when he saw her eyes glow brighter and she smiled as well.

  Patrick’s words held no promise in them, but his words were a panacea to the pain that had possessed her psyche. She sobbed, sniveled and chuckled as more tears flowed down her cheeks. The tears were not born out of pain. The tears were not born out of joy. The tears were born out of hope, a hope that was more than Sara had expected.

  “Alright,” Sara replied softly and sniveled again.

  Patrick smiled and smiled from his heart. Sara sensed Patrick’s inadvertent communication to her and her heart glowed.

  “This never gets old,” Patrick said, referring to Sara’s glowing heart.

  He inched closer towards Sara.

  “This could be the start of something very strange but even more beautiful than you and I can imagine, don’t you think?” Patrick said kissing her softly on the lips.

  “Never took you for a poet,” Sara replied, returning his kiss.

  “Stop plagiarizing, woman!” Patrick teased.

  They kissed passionately once again.

  “I really gotta go now,” he said and peeled away from her.

  Sara nodded.

  They sparked the ethers to freshen their bodies, got dressed and left the room. Patrick checked out of the motel and got into the car with Sara. When they hit the road, and after making sure the coast was clear, Patrick kissed Sara on the cheek.

  “You know you can always visit me too, right?” Patrick said.

  “When you send me your address,” Sara replied, smiling.

  “Home address? Really?” Patrick said, shaking his head. “You mean to tell me you can’t track our telepathic link?”

  “Oh yeah, I could do that,” Sara replied, smacking herself on her forehead. “In my defense, it’s been a while. Does that mean… I can….”

  “Yes, silly! You have my permission to access my link,” Patrick said. “But no mind reading, okay? Still gotta respect each other’s privacy.”

  “It’s really happening,” Sara spoke as if she was in a daze. “We’re really doing this? I am yours and you are mine?”

  “You know, in this day and age, we say ‘we’re dating’!” Patrick rolled his eyes playfully.

  “Where I’m from, we declare ourselves as an offering to each other,” Sara seemed to be lost in some fog in her memory.

  “Remembering anything?” Patrick asked, hopeful that she was.

  “No… I’m sorry,” Sara replied, feeling embarrassed. “I thought I was, for a moment.”

  “Don’t sweat it, babe,” Patrick said. “It’ll all come back eventually.”

  Patrick reached for his cellphone in his left, jacket pocket. He sent Sara a text message. Sara heard her phone vibrate and retrieved it from her purse. She entered her pin and clicked on the message app.

  “What’s this?” Sara asked.

  “My home address, in case you prefer to catch a flight,” Patrick said with playful sarcasm.

  Sara punched him in the arm and the couple laughed a little.

  “I’ll see you later, Sara,” Patrick said a minute later.

  “See you later… babe…” Sara replied.

  Patrick smiled at her and nodded. He could not believe he was really doing this. Decades of living the life of a kite in the wind were about to be blown away by the firestorm of a vivacious, violet-electric-spark vixen! He was going to say the ship of the single life was about to set sail for some unknown site, but he slid back to the current situation. He had to be debriefed immediately. Their remarkable success had come at a very high cost, though. Anyway, he would mourn for his fallen brothers later.

  Patrick kissed Sara lightly on the lips again, removed his fedora and placed it on her head before he teleported from Sara’s car to his rental. Sara grinned like a school girl, adjusted Patrick’s fedora on her head and check herself out in the mirror. She did look cool wearing the fedora. Sara started the car and headed home. She had to get ready for another day of running a business. Let the townsfolk comment and gossip about her new style of clothing. She was in love with a most amazing man and she would have no problem bragging about it and styling her lover’s fedora.

  Patrick could not drive quickly enough to the car rental return forty-six miles away. After topping the tank and returning the rental, he caught a shuttle to the terminal and headed for the nearest restroom. The last person to ever subconsciously notice Patrick before he teleported to Rome was the shuttle bus driver; and even her subconscious memory of Patrick would vanish within the hour. Patrick appeared in Shi’mon’s private chamber. Shi’mon sat in his favorite armchair of all time.

  “That was fantastic work you did out there, son,” Shi’mon said, staring out the window.

  “Thank you, Father Supreme,” Patrick replied. “We lost too many of our own, though.”

  “I know,” Shi’mon replied flatly and turned around to face Patrick. “Now tell me again what happened over there; every single detail!”

  Patrick narrated everything that transpired in as much detail as he could. He skillfully omitted the parts that had to do with Sara, though. He was not sure what the organization would do to or with her once they discovered she was not human. For all Patrick could tell, she was lost, lonely and maybe even afraid of what she might find out when, and if, her memory returns. About half an hour later, Patrick was done.

  “And lo, I beheld an archangel in the flesh, sir!” Patrick said with the flair of a theater performer.

  Then, Patrick narrowed his eyes and leaned towards Shi’mon.

  “Have YOU ever seen an angel, let alone an archangel, boss?” Patrick asked with a feeling of playful pride.

  Shi’mon leveled a poker expression at Patrick. He understood Patrick was still on a high after what he had just witnessed. By Yahweh! Shi’mon was very surprised Patrick was not bouncing off the wall with excitement.

  “Let the record reflect I said I have seen an archangel, NOT angel And I have never seen anything more beautiful.”

  “Not even Sara!” He wanted to add. But he knew better.

  “Good for you!” Shi’mon said dismissively, more to hide his jealousy than to sound stern. “And you are absolutely certain that is all you have to tell me?” Shi’mon asked.

  “I am sure, Father Supreme,” Patrick lied. “Unless you wanna hear about my indiscretions with the local distractions…” he added.

  “No fedora today?” Shi’mon asked passively.

  Patrick cursed multiple times in his head. He should not have given it to Sara just yet. But wait! He was the best trained agent for a reason.

  “Lost it when I gave Lilith a licking, boss,” Patrick replied quickly, leveling a poker, confident gaze at Shi’mon.

  Shi’mon eyed him keenly and slowly nodded. Patrick was walking a very, very thin line. If you weren’t my protégé… Shi’mon said to himself.

  “Very well then,” Shi’mon said finally. “At least, the angel has returned whence he came.”

  Patrick desperately wanted to correct his boss. Eliel is an archangel, not just an angel. But he reminded himself that, at the end of the day, Shi’mon was his boss, not his drinking buddy.

  “I fear this is not the end of it, though,” Shi’mon said. “You said the angel mentioned something ab
out a celestial crisis, right?”

  “Yes, Father Supreme,” Patrick answered.

  “Then this is far from over,” Shi’mon said, rising from his chair and walking towards the window. “If he really is above Michael, then part of his purpose is to avert something so big that maybe Michael and his host would not have been able to handle on their own.”

  “What would that be, Father?” Patrick asked.

  Shi’mon heaved a heavy sigh.

  “Something… evil is coming,” Shi’mon replied. “And I pray that Eliel is not too late.”

  ***

  “He’s not coming back,” Gabriel said.

  “We must wait,” Raphael insisted.

  “He knew it was a one-way trip, Raphael,” Gabriel added. “Don’t you see? He already got us to nominate you as our next archangel supreme because he knew he wasn’t coming back.”

  “I agree with Gabriel,” Uriel joined in, and the other archangels chorused their agreement.

  Even though Raphael was still unwilling to accept the fact that Michael would not be coming back, he still tried to hold on to the last vestige of hope he had left.

  “You are not the only one who wishes it were not true, Raph,” Uriel said. “But we must do something right now. Michael is gone, and you know what’s coming next, don’t you?”

  “We don’t want another slaughter, but these are desperate times!” Gabriel said. “They slashed at the first wing, and we cannot let them slash at the other wing! Gone is the element of surprise. Our best and most advantageous option now is a preemptive strike!”

  “And you think I do not know that?” Raphael barked at Gabriel.

  “We are ready, Raphael,” Uriel said, and the rest of the council chorused their agreement. “We’ve been ready since the rebellion. History must not repeat itself!”

  Raphael rapped his fingers repeatedly on the table. He chewed on the fact that his first line of business as the new archangel supreme of Celestia would be to wage war on Hell Realm and possibly cause another slaughter. Not again! There had to be another way, but for now, he could not think of another way. Every moment spent in contemplation was a moment that could spare the existences of many of his brothers and sisters from ending. He was ready for war. But he was ready as a general, not as archangel supreme. He would have preferred a different route that did not involve existences ending, but when it came to ensuring the survival of the realm, then nothing else mattered. Hell Realm must be decimated!