by S S Bazinet
As he made his way along a field, he heard Abrigail calling out to him. When he didn’t answer her, he heard her calling out for assistance, for Michael.
He stopped and braced himself against his knees. He’d been letting himself vent, but the truth was that he wasn’t going to walk his way to freedom. He was already getting tired after five minutes. The only sane thing to do was turn around.
Twenty-Eight
IT WAS STILL dark outside, and the white center line on the highway was a steady marker as the Mustang made its way back to Chicago. Arel was driving, but he had the top back up on the convertible. With the thrill of freedom dashed, he had the cruise control set to the speed limit. His face adopted a stony expression as Michael continued to reason with him from the passenger seat.
“Let’s look at the bright side again,” Michael said. “As Abrigail reminded you earlier, tonight should be a wonderful sign that you are capable of feeling happiness. And your body responded, didn’t it? You even felt strong again.”
Arel could feel Michael’s bright, blue eyes bearing down on him, trying to shift him out of his gloomy mood. Instead, he kept his narrowed gaze on the road. He’d be the model driver. He’d maintain perfect posture, with two hands on the wheel, and use his mirrors to check on traffic, but he wouldn’t be pulled back into Michael’s world again.
Michael countered Arel’s silence with a deep sigh. “Okay, do you want me to agree with you?” he asked solemnly. “Do you want me to say that you’re right about it all, that I should join you in defeat? I didn’t think that I’d ever stoop to being negative, dear friend, but maybe that’s what you want.”
Michael’s depressed tone and his threat were unexpected and unwelcome. Arel might be ready for basket weaving, but there was no way, he’d allow Michael to follow in his footsteps. He scowled back. “Go negative? You? Oh no you won’t!” he shouted. “And do you know why you won’t?”
Michael shrugged. “Why?”
“Because I’ll be the one that gets blamed for it. I can hear your cronies now. ‘Michael got bit by a vampire, and now he’s going to hell in a handcart! Gone all negative. Arel wrecked a big shot angel.’”
Michael stared back at him, first with raised brows, followed by a large grin, followed by a loud outburst of laughter.
“Oh stop it! It wasn’t that funny.”
“I can’t help it,” Michael insisted. His usually calm eyes were glassy with mirth. “This is why I could never give up on you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re sitting there feeling very down and disappointed, but you wouldn’t tolerate my giving up for an instant, would you?”
Arel looked at Michael again. The angel’s face was bright and encouraging, like always. “No, of course not, because I know you’ve tried too, Michael. You’ve done your best to help me.”
“We’ve both done our best. It wasn’t easy for you to go to that diner. It took a lot of courage, more courage than you realize.”
“I don’t know. It was a diner.”
Michael patted Arel’s shoulder. “You cared about Carol sitting there and worrying, admit it. You wanted to put her mind at ease because you’re a good man, Arel, even if you don’t think so.”
Michael’s reassuring touch and comforting words reminded Arel of their bond, their friendship. “We make a good pair, don’t we? An angel who won’t give up, and a guy who’s scared of just about everything.”
“A guy who was determined to rid himself of a curse no matter what hell it meant he’d have to face.”
Arel laughed. “I was sick of rats, that’s all.”
“No more rats, and now you can check out the garden.”
“Before we talk about that, Abrigail said something about Carol’s friend.”
“Peggy,” Michael offered. “She was in an accident. She’s in the hospital.”
“How bad was she hurt?”
“All that I can tell you is that she wants to see you.”
“Well, forget that. She’s dangerous.” He thought about his hand. Even if the sun couldn’t harm him, Peggy could.
“She affected you that way because of your fear. But she needs your help to get over her own. She’s in pain, and you can help if you’ll go and visit her.”
“And you can guarantee that I’ll be safe around her.”
“You have to believe in yourself, Arel, like you did tonight. You went past your fears.”
“I guess, but even if I did go to see this woman, how would I say that I got the news?”
“Carol sent you an e-mail.”
“And of course you read it?”
Michael smiled. “I don’t have to read your e-mail to know things.”
He glanced at Michael again. “Knowing things seems to be an off and on thing with you. Are you sure about the sun not frying me to a crisp? It would be ironic if I agreed not to kill myself, and then I became a piece of burnt toast the first time I stepped out for a peek of sunshine.”
Michael gave Arel’s shoulder another sound shaking. “I’ll prove it to you.”
Twenty-Nine
DID AREL REALLY trust Michael’s theory that the sun wouldn’t harm him? His answer was standard issue. “Hell no!”
But Michael’s enthusiasm was at a peak. Arel had never seen the angel show such an outward display of happiness. Michael had always been kind and caring, but he maintained a rather serene, easy-does-it attitude. That suddenly changed when they were in the car, coming back to Chicago. Michael had actually laughed, out loud! Later, when they talked, Michael smiled broadly, and he made it clear that he was very proud of Arel. It was such a fatherly gesture, such a pure and genuine tribute that Arel felt compelled to let the angel have his due. Michael wanted to prove that Arel was free to live in the sun again. And Arel had finally agreed. He’d visit Michael’s garden.
Still, when Arel was getting ready for the big event, he knew there was one issue that Michael hadn’t addressed. Michael had no idea about what Arel was becoming. Arel wasn’t nearly as confused. His place in the grand scheme of things was perfectly clear. When he looked in the mirror and a pathetic, wasted face looked back, he labeled himself in scientific terms. Two words clearly described his state. He was a lab rat. If he wanted to glorify his position and put Michael’s angelic blood into the mix, he could add a word. He was the Creator’s lab rat. And now that rat was being placed in a very dangerous situation.
Arel’s only choice had been to take measures into his own hands. He would test the sun, but he’d experience its rays with prudence. He put on numerous, thick layers of protective clothing and a winter jacket. He’d even found a pith helmet to wear, scrounged from his African collection. Opaque sun glasses added a final touch. As he trudged towards the back door, he felt like a ‘great white hunter’ who was joining a polar exploration. But he didn’t care how ridiculous he looked, at least he’d have some measure of safety when he was blasted by solar rays.
* * * * *
Arel stood in the kitchen, looking out the back door. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The sun was at its zenith. Its fiery light was there for every flower and blade of grass. The setting was exactly what he’d prayed for when he wanted to die. Now he was holding on to life again, hoping he was over the worst of the purge, wondering if another surprise was waiting for him.
His body agreed with his mental reservations. It wouldn’t move. When he tried to take a step forward, his feet felt leaden and weighted. He glanced at Abrigail. “I think my body knows I shouldn’t do this.”
“I believe your body needs your encouragement,” Abrigail coaxed. “It needs its captain to tell it that all is going to be fine.”
“Captain?” Arel’s mind scrambled to understand her point. He’d never thought of himself as a man in charge of a sea vessel, but his feet did feel like a couple of ship anchors.
Abrigail continued to explain. “You have to have a positive attitude so that your body feels safe.”
“How can I h
ave a positive attitude? Neither you nor Michael know anything for sure. This could be a big mistake.”
Michael came forward. “I do know some things, and I know you’ll be fine.”
Before Arel could reply, he saw Michael give Abrigail a signal. “What are you doing?”
Instead of answering him, each angel took hold of an arm. They began to edge him, inch by inch, out the back door.
Arel instantly braced booted feet out in front of him. “Are you crazy?” he yelled. He suddenly trusted his body more than the angels. He resisted their efforts with every ounce of strength he had. But he didn’t have a chance of holding back. Angels, even slim ones like Abrigail seemed capable of incredible brawn. Of course he was in pathetic shape. At this point, he probably couldn’t resist an eighty year old granny.
As soon as he was outside and the first ray of sun hit him, Arel knew he was lost. He heard himself let out a scream of panic. His banshee shriek was followed by a loud assessment of his condition. “I’m burning up! Too hot! You bastard, Michael, I’m going to die!”
Abrigail seemed to find his protests amusing. He could see that she was restraining her urge to smile. “You’ll be sorry that you laughed when I’m dead!”
“You’re okay,” Michael said in a soothing voice. “You’re wearing too many layers of clothing for such a warm, pleasant day. You’re overheating.”
Arel was desperate to make himself heard. “You know nothing, nothing!”
Abrigail clung to Arel’s arm as he struggled against her efforts to propel him forward. “You’ve already been out here for a few seconds, dearest. And look, you’re not being harmed at all.”
“The sun hasn’t touched my skin! That’s why I’m fine,” he cried.
Abrigail frowned back. “But Arel—”
“Face it, you two don’t know anything about vampires, do you?”
“I’ve been observing one up close for quite a while,” Michael said. “Besides, this is what you were going to do anyway, out in the Illinois cornfields.”
“That was different. Now it’s all iffy.”
Michael frowned. “I think we need to get through this a little more quickly. Your body temperature is beginning to soar from all your fear and the clothes.”
Arel saw the look in Michael’s eyes, that ‘let’s take it to the next level’ look. “Please! I can’t do it!” he screamed again.
“Start by taking off a glove,” Abrigail said.
Arel gasped. “No! I need my hands. I can’t type without my hands.”
Michael paused and stared at him. It was time enough to allow Arel to think there was hope after all, that the angel had changed his mind. He started to turn around when the unthinkable happened. Michael reached over and removed the heavy helmet from his head, plucked it away with a swift hand, exposing his dark, sweaty hair and pale, white face.
“No!” Arel only had time to scream out the one word. As soon as the helmet was off, the sun hit him with its powerful, high noon rays. The blazing flash of light short circuited his brain. Everything began to spin. The spinning rapidly turned into total blackness. As his legs lost all strength, he pitched forward in a heated faint.
* * * * *
Arel opened his eyes and saw heaven. There were angels around him. They didn’t have wings, but they were glowing, just like the beautiful trees in the background. The music of heaven consisted of birdsong. There was also a fiery orb. Heaven even had a sun shining down on him.
“Oh well,” he said dreamily. “I forgive Michael. Burnt toast or not, I made it to the Garden of Eden.”
“You’re burning up,” the lady angel said. She looked a lot like Abrigail.
“Yes,” he muttered back as he squinted at her. “Heaven is a little warm. But it’s still pretty.”
He continued to enjoy the blue skies and the lovely flowers blooming in profusion all around him. As he gazed blissfully at his new surroundings, heaven turned into a flood. Water poured down on him in a deluge as the male angel emptied a bucket over his head.
“Sorry, Arel, you were overheating,” the male angel said. “I had to cool you off quickly.”
Arel sputtered and tried to breathe, but he was so relieved to be dead. Perhaps, the water dousing was a heavenly baptism. “Very refreshing,” he coughed as he was pulled to his feet. Heavenly conduct was unusual, but he supposed that was because it was heaven. He smiled broadly. “I can’t believe it. I finally made it. Do I have wings?” The two angels who had helped him up were dragging him towards a familiar looking structure. “Gee, heaven has a house for me, just like the one I had on earth.”
A moment later, as he was led inside the structure, he couldn’t see anything. He was in total darkness. He was also suddenly aware of how hot he was. Perhaps he’d been too optimistic. Perhaps he was being taken to hell. “No! I won’t go! Take me back to the light!”
He heard the lady angel talking to someone. “I’m concerned. He seems so disoriented.”
The male angel answered her. “Sunstroke could be his next trick.”
“He’ll do anything to escape, won’t he?”
“Sunstroke? In heaven?” Arel asked with a rising panic.
“I think it’s time to bend a few rules,” the male angel said.
* * * * *
When Arel woke up a second time, he wasn’t in heaven anymore. He was in his bed, under a lightweight sheet. “That was quite a dream I had.” He remembered flashes of brilliant light, glowing flowers and trees, and a couple of angels. There was also a part where he was thrown into darkness. He’d never felt so hot. Thankfully, he didn’t remember anything after that. In contrast, he felt quite comfortable now. In fact, he felt better than he had in a long time. No headache or shakes. The room was dimly lit and quiet. He was just thinking about going back to sleep when he saw a stranger sitting on a chair in the corner. Grasping at the sheet, he pulled it close. “Who are you, and how did you get in here?”
The woman got up and came over to the bed. “Hello, my name is Glory.”
He moaned when he got a good look at his visitor. “Oh great, you’re another of Michael’s friends, aren’t you?”
The woman smiled. “Yes, I am.”
Arel was accustomed to being around angels. Michael and Abrigail appeared solid and as physical as any normal person. But the woman in front of him was the real thing, an angel who looked like an angel. She glowed brightly around the edges, and her form shimmered in and out. Tall and beautiful, with sparkling, spun gold hair, she was outfitted in a warrior’s garment, complete with gleaning breast plate and a golden sword by her side.
After he studied her for a long moment, he decided that he approved of her appearance. As a child, he loved books and stories about knights, noble ideals and chivalry. This angel would fit into that world very nicely if she stabilized her form a bit. What he didn’t appreciate was another angel invading his space uninvited.
The angel seemed to understand his feelings. “I’m sorry if I surprised you.”
“What do you want?”
“Peggy could use your help. I was hoping that you could visit her as soon as possible.”
“Why? I don’t even know the woman.”
“I can’t explain the situation. You’ll have to talk to her. My purpose is to make sure that you know how important this matter is. I’m looking forward to seeing you at the hospital.”
He rubbed his brow. “Oh yes, the hospital. I forgot.”
“She’ll be so relieved to see you.”
He was about to protest, but the regal angel was already fading from sight.
Abrigail walked into the room a moment later. “Feeling better?”
He answered with a scowl. “I had a visitor.”
“Yes, Peggy’s angel.” Abrigail came up to his bedside and took his hand. “Dearest, I know this is a lot to ask, but Peggy is really having a terrible time. It would mean the world to her if you’d visit.”
The serious nature of the request was obvious, but Ar
el hated the idea of seeing Carol’s friend again. “I don’t know—”
“Glory wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t urgent.”
He wanted to protest, but then he remembered how many times, he’d been helped recently. He thought about his decision to go to bed forever, and how Abrigail treated him like the loving mother he’d never had. It seemed that it was payback time. “Fine, I suppose I could look in on her.”
“Wonderful,” Abrigail said with a smile.
He remembered something that brought a smile to his face too. “I had the strangest dream. I went to heaven.” He glanced up at Abrigail. “Did you know that they baptize you as soon as you arrive?”
“I’m sorry, Arel, but that wasn’t heaven,” Michael said as he came in and joined Abrigail by the bedside.
Arel greeted him with a deeper scowl than the one he gave Abrigail. “It was my dream, Michael. I think I can remember my own dream.”
“And it wasn’t a baptism,” Michael continued. “But that’s not important now. I’m afraid the hospital visit is a priority.”
“Fine, when are evening visiting hours?” Arel glanced over at his bedside clock. “Eight? Eight thirty?”
“You can go right now,” Abrigail offered.
He snorted at her. “I think you’re forgetting something. It’s two in the afternoon.” He stared at them expectantly. “The vampire thing . . . I can’t leave the house until dark.”
Abrigail glanced at Michael and pulled him aside. “Oh my, I think Arel’s in denial about what he experienced today. That doesn’t mean we have to do it all over again, do we?”
Michael shrugged. “Do you have a better idea?”
As Arel listened to their conversation, his mind dredged up some very strange images. A bizarre looking human, bundled and wrapped like a Pillsbury dough boy gone safari. Michael throwing a bucket of water on the guy. The guy screaming his head off as he sat in the dark, feeling hotter than Hades.
The images all began to gel into a continuous pattern of events. The events became a picture of what he’d gone through earlier. How could he have forgotten such a horrid experience? “Dammit,” he yelled. “I’m the guy you tried to kill with the sun, Michael. When that didn’t finish me off, you tried to drown me! What kind of angel are you?”
