Watcher

by Andrew Weis

  I paced in front of the podium. The long line of angels behind me waited for me to make my decision. In my peripheral vision, I spied Ellis shaking his head. He got on my nerves.

  “Can I make a request?” I asked.

  “You may. However, it may or may not get granted.”

  “Can I see the Outer Edge first?” I asked. “I’ve never seen it before so I want to know what’s in store for me if I fail.”

  Arlen’s eyes glowed bright yellow. At that moment my father appeared beside me. He bowed his head before Arlen.

  “Jessa wants to see the Outer Edge,” Arlen said. “After she’s seen enough to her satisfaction, she must either accept or decline the terms specified concerning her ARV. Jessa, your ARV will begin after you’ve declared acceptance.”

  My dad nodded once more and escorted me out of the Temple.

  It was nice to get outside and breathe a little. The seriousness of the job weighed on my heart, and I figured I was in over my head.

  “Jessa, there’s nothing to see. It’s just a prison,” Dad said.

  “I think seeing it will help me decide how much I want to be an archangel. The reality hit me rather hard in there.”

  Dad smiled as he caressed my cheek. Then, we ascended into the southern sun.

  The trip to the Outer Edge seemed ridiculously fast. All around me spanned nothing but blackness. There were no stars, solar systems, nor planets of any kind. It was as if planets hadn’t formed yet.

  A rushing sensation of a fast sweat rippled across my body as we paused in front of the divine boundary which evolved into a wall of white light. I raised my hand against the vibrating wall and felt a slight pull.

  “That’s an active gravity of a sort,” Dad said. “You haven’t committed any crimes, so it won’t imprison you.”

  “So, the universe does expand all the time,” I said.

  “Yep. Einstein and his pals were right, but they’re wrong on the speed.”

  “They said space expands at the speed of light.”

  “It’s much faster than that. Do you know how long it takes cosmic particles to form stellar systems?”

  “The better part of a weekend?”

  Dad laughed.

  “Yep. Some inmates will be in long enough to watch planets form, live and die.”

  “Inmates? Are there other people or things in there besides angels?”

  “Oh sure. Humans, aliens, they’re all bound to play by the rules.”

  Wow, humans weren’t alone. I wondered if the aliens did the same things as humans, like going to work, church or competing at track meets.

  “Yes, other species exist scattered throughout the universe,” Dad said. “We have no business reaching out to other galaxies since humans still kill each other. The existence mandate in the Book of Ancients will prevent any human attempt to reach another galaxy until humans advance past the stage of self-destruction.”

  “People will eventually invent a way to reach other galaxies. They’re too curious for their own good.”

  “There’s truth there, but the hidden dangers will stop humans regardless of their technology. Failure will always follow until they’ve evolved enough to handle an alien encounter. We’re here and that’s all that matters. Most important, stay out of there,” Dad said, pointing at the white barrier wall.

  We drifted closer to the edge. The blackness of space gave way to brighter whiteness as if space itself didn’t exist there yet.

  “Are you sure you want to see it?” Dad asked.

  “I’m sure.”

  We floated right up to the edge, one micron away from being in the prison, as if looking through a window at a zoo. The prison was like nothing I imagined. There were millions of cells with creatures of all description locked in divine confinement.

  Guards were unnecessary since the Creator, whoever he or she was, held the power to keep them there. The part that struck me hard was the screams; so much anguish and pain. In the prison, there was no darkness, only a blinding perpetual light.

  “What kinds of crimes did they commit?” I asked.

  “There are too many to tell. The rule set gets bigger outside humanity. They have aliens, spirits, planets and even solar systems imprisoned in there.”

  “How do you lock up a solar system?”

  “Like anything created, there are rules to follow. If atomic particles stray from the rules, they get put here.”

  “That’s so crazy!”

  “I’ll admit it’s strange, all right. Now, you need to decide. Once you do, you’re committed.”

  If I failed the ARV, the Outer Edge would be my new home for who knows how long. If I succeeded, I’d make archangel. The worst case, if I didn’t accept the ARV at all, I’d stay a watcher and be a regular angel wandering around doing whatever I wanted under the confines of Heavenly law. A ton of responsibility rested on my mind while Dad and I returned to the Temple, not that it was a long trip.

  Inside the Temple, Dad and I stepped around the others in line. We approached the podium and bowed our heads. Arlen and I peered at each other.

  “Jessa, have you made your decision?” Arlen asked.

  “Yeah, you and I go way back, Chief, so I wanted to show you my decision.”

  Arlen raised his bushy brow. He tilted his head, and I saw what I determined was a slight grin.

  “My actions will speak louder than my words,” I said with a confident smile.

  I nodded at Arlen, then looked at my dad. My wings illuminated, and I dashed into the holographic Earth.

  Chapter 8

  SPACE COVERED A huge area. Getting to Hali by spacecraft was impossible since Hali existed in a realm undetectable by humans. As an angel, covering that distance was a short trip.

  I landed on the sidewalk in front of my destination, 2246 W. Venture, Chicago, in late afternoon. I liked that my old neighborhood was my territory.

  The yellow brick bungalow, like countless others that lined both sides of the street, looked more like the city’s version of cookie-cutter suburbia. Working with the inhabitant might prove interesting, or it’d be the biggest headache of my life.

  Kids played a few houses down the street; their joyous laughter and shouts resonated my way. A strong lake breeze rattled the leaves overhead.

  I closed my eyes and listened to that sublime rustling sound then caught a waft of smoke from a charcoal grill nearby. I wished I was more appreciative of those simple pleasures when I was alive. Summer was great.

  I remained inrepped so nobody could see me. Countless angels streamed through the sky, leaving angelic contrails in their wake. Humans went on with their lives oblivious to our presence, which suited me fine.

  The house stood before me. One deep breath later, I walked to the door, ventured inside and stood in the home’s small foyer. Creaky floorboards upstairs alerted me that someone was home. The sound of thick heels struck the solid, dark wood steps and grew louder until meeting the hardwood floor. She was a heavyset woman, African, somewhere in her forties, with strong facial features and hair wound into a tight bun.

  She plopped several manila folders onto the dining room table beside another stack of folders that surrounded a desktop computer like a paper brick wall. I studied her face but didn’t recognize her.

  Photographs of various sizes filled one wall. My eyes turned to the wall and saw the family portrait. There he was. Daniel. Crap!

  I’d been to Daniel’s house once since he lived on the other side of Englewood Rails from me, and I didn’t remember anything about it. In the oversized photograph, his white mother and black father stood behind him and his sister, Riley. Deep in my heart, a contemptuous guilt prospered.

  I thought I buried my memories of Daniel so deep I’d never have to worry about explaining why I pretended to betray him. At the same time, he didn’t do anything to stop Coz from raping me while he stood there dopey-eyed.

  No way was Daniel the one I had to save. Arlen couldn’t be that cruel. What if Ellis was
right in that I wasn’t ready to be an archangel? Since I already accepted the job with an option to bail if I had to, I stayed with the ARV to see where it would take me.

  I peered back at the woman, who I assumed was Daniel’s aunt, as she swiped the touchpad on her laptop to wake it up. The screen lit up, revealing a PDF document with an accounting firm’s logo and a downtown address. Maybe my job was to save an accountant from making a serious clerical error, but I wasn’t lucky enough to get a gig that easy.

  The subjects of the pictures on the wall had the same people. After Daniel’s mother passed away when Daniel was in fifth grade, his aunt moved in and took care of him and Riley while his father was on a lengthy tour of duty in Afghanistan.

  I seethed at the subtle but growing deep bass thumps of rap music coming from the street. The woman huffed in disgust as she rushed to the window. I peered out the window beside her. A shiny restored red 1969 Chevy Chevelle parked at the curb as the bass rhythms from the car’s pounding speakers made the house vibrate.

  The passenger side door swung open, then Daniel hopped out and slammed the door closed. The car’s driver, Coz, bounded out after him. I passed through the front room wall and stood on the porch.

  “You can’t quit the crew, Daniel. What’re you going to do?” Coz asked. “You got nothing without me.”

  “You’re not capable of telling the truth, Coz,” Daniel said. “You don’t manage Xtremes any more than I do. All you do is run Tyrone’s drugs and shake down his pimps.”

  “We’re family, man. You don’t want to be on my bad side, do you?”

  Daniel folded his arms and looked at Coz. Daniel had to think about it? Unbelievable!

  “I’ve seen your bad side, Coz,” Daniel said. “So, for the last time, I’m not joining your damn gang. I’m done!”

  Daniel lifted the mailbox lid and removed several white business envelopes. The lid clapped shut with a metallic clunk. Coz, being the jerk he was, grabbed Daniel and caused him to drop an envelope, unbeknownst to Daniel.

  “Let go, Coz!” Daniel bellowed.

  “Come on, Daniel. I can’t do this without you. Tyrone’s got big plans. If it works out, we’ll all be rich.”

  “I don’t think so. Later, Coz.”

  Daniel held his ground. It would’ve been nice if he did that much for me instead of watching me die like he did. He stomped into the house and locked the front door. I stood with my arms crossed and stared at Coz. He spotted the envelope on the porch and grabbed it. He peeked through the window above the door, tore the envelope open and read it. His eyes widened as he read.

  “Damn, T was right. Playing Daniel paid off,” he said. Coz dashed to his car and sped away.

  I didn’t know what game Coz played, but Daniel had nothing of value. Daniel’s father was due to return home from Afghanistan about a year after I died. I wondered what he did for a living now that he was back home. After going back inside, I found Daniel seated on the sofa. He looked downright sad. Good.

  “Are you done with that boy now?” the woman asked.

  “Yes, Auntie. Is Dad home?”

  “Not yet. Should be home soon,” Auntie said with a reassuring smile.

  “All right. Are you working again tonight?”

  “Yes, more corporate tax appeals. You putting Coz in his place like that might set him off,” she said, tapping the files as she thought. “He shouldn’t be back any time soon, so I’ll run these files in and come right back. Will you be okay by yourself?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “That’s my boy,” Auntie said, then kissed Daniel’s forehead.

  There wasn’t a chance in hell I’d stick around to watch Daniel mend his troubled heart, so I left. If he can live to talk about dumping Coz, then Daniel was tougher than I realized. For a hardened thug, Coz took the split pretty well. Despite his superficial acceptance, I doubted Coz was through with Daniel since he left with a big stupid smile on his face.

  With Daniel safe at home, I didn’t feel I needed to babysit him. To clear my head, I walked to Western Avenue, then went down about a mile to a popular nightclub called Xtremes. The club, housed in a former Montgomery Ward department store, was a large nightclub of relative notoriety. Soon after opening, it became the most popular club south of Madison Avenue.

  In Englewood Rails, nightclubs changed like the seasons, but Xtremes had remarkable staying power. During the day, groups of people showed off their vintage muscle cars. At night, a couple hundred people came looking to get lucky, high and most times both.

  Since I was never old enough to set foot in the place, everything I heard was all rumor to my virtuous ears. Some of my friends had older siblings who spent time in there and came out with all kinds of crazy stories. I saw a familiar red Chevelle parked in front and a green 1971 Camaro Z28 behind it. I surprised myself at my ability to identify the old cars.

  I needed time to think about how I’d handle Daniel’s case, whatever it entailed. Hanging out here afforded me time to come up with a game plan. I climbed onto the roof of the Chevelle where I watched a skinny high school kid in baggy jeans, a white tank top, and enough gold necklaces to deck out a Christmas tree, rub out smudges on the Chevelle.

  Other youngsters ogled the gleaming classic car and spoke of how much they wished they had a car of their own. A younger teenaged Hispanic boy ran his hand along the car and accidentally dragged his gold necklaces across the driver side door.

  “Hey, Sook, man. What that interior cost you?” the Hispanic boy asked. Dressed in a white tank top with requisite baggy jeans, he didn’t seem to notice his transgression.

  Sook looked at the faint scratches on the door’s mirror-like clear coat finish, pursed his lips and shook his shaved head.

  “Hector, you worthless sack,” Sook said, clocking Hector with a right hook. He then shoved Hector to the sidewalk.

  Hector scrambled to his feet and the inevitable brawl began. People gathered around and did a great job making sure the fight didn’t end too soon. Xtremes wasn’t any different from Roosevelt High School; boys fought over anything, nothing changed.

  Within minutes, two bouncers, the biggest Africans I ever saw with reputations of keeping the peace better than anyone, emerged from inside Xtremes and broke up the fight. I figured they were Nemo and Nero, based on what I’d heard about them.

  Nemo and Nero were big enough to be NFL players, but so were many other people in our neighborhood. In the past, I only heard of their names and reputations but never met them.

  After they restored order on the sidewalk, they headed toward the club entrance. Nemo, the bigger of the two, seemed to look straight at me. There wasn’t anyone behind me. There wasn’t any chance he saw me either because I was still inrepped. He retreated inside the club with Nero while calm reigned over the streets once more.

  Coz, like a fired-up wrestler marching to the ring, stomped out of the club entrance with a short hoodlum wannabe named Rico one step behind him. Rico was another of Coz’s slugs. He had a detectable flair about him which made me suspect he might be a closet homosexual. I’m sure if Coz found that out, if it were true, he’d either kill Rico or run his ass out of town.

  “Sook, let’s go,” Coz said, opening the car door and sliding inside.

  Sook straightened himself out and climbed into the car. He revved the engine then drove away.

  With time on my hands, I figured Daniel’s woes, whatever they were, had to wait. I left Xtremes, then headed down the street.

  While I walked by familiar stores and eateries, old memories flashed through my mind as the greasy, meaty aromas of fried chicken and char burgers filled the air. My stomach growled, which was a strange sensation. It was a sound, not a physical feeling. Since I didn’t need to eat anymore, the smells were more akin to torture of things I could no longer enjoy.

  I continued west a dozen blocks and came to my old street, Claremont. I walked down the familiar alley and found my garage. Memories swarmed my brain like mosquitos on fl
esh as I neared my house.

  When I walked through the garage door, I discovered that my GTO wasn’t there. After I had died, I figured Mom told the people at Double N to either keep the car or sell it. Mom. Oh no.

  My heart squeezed as I imagined the police showing up at my house and telling Mom they found her daughter dead a few moments ago. Damn that Daniel and that simple boy brain of his. Had he stood up for me, I might still be alive.

  With a racing heart, I ascended the back stairs of my former home. Butterflies flapped in my tummy while I stood in the kitchen. I recalled what happened here on my last night on Earth. That last horrible memory of when I was at home, where Ken hit Mom, still pained my heart.

  There was stone silence throughout the house except for the creaky wooden stairs I climbed to my room. Boxes piled high along the sidewall where my dresser used to be. My bed, nothing but a bare mattress, devoid of sheets and pillows, looked desolate. All my track ribbons and photo collages of friends got packed away. I stared out the bedroom window as tears dripped down my cheeks.

  The front door’s hinges squeaked as the door opened, then I heard the familiar sound of the screen door slamming shut. I hustled down the stairs, stopped at the foyer, and there he was.

  Ken retrieved a bottle of bourbon from a hutch in the dining room and poured a glassful. He went to the fireplace mantel and grabbed a portrait of my mom, then swigged from the glass.

  Ken plopped onto a plush chair with his back to me. He took long, labored breaths while rubbing his eyes as though he wanted to push them into his head. Perhaps his union gave him crap or his promotion wasn’t working out as well as he’d hoped. Either way, I didn’t care.

  As I approached Ken, I materialized a large hammer. Years of his bullying echoed in my ears. His booming pissed off voice sounded more disgusting with each passing moment. I raised the hammer high and was about to drop it on his head when he started crying like a baby. While I listened to him wail, the hammer lowered to my side.