Michael's Blood

by S S Bazinet

  He looked at the angel in his hand again. He’d studied it so many times as a child that eventually his grandmother’s face appeared whenever he stared at it for very long. Now he saw her looking back at him once more. But this time, he despised what he saw.

  You never came back like you promised. You died, just like that old lady in the hospital.

  A surge of anger fired through his body. It blotted out his grandmother’s face. It made him grit his teeth as the truth fueled his rage.

  She was a powerless, old woman. She lied to a child who didn’t know any better than to believe her!

  His hand tightened on the glass angel as he remembered how many fantasies it had inspired. “But never again!” he screamed as he hurled the angel at the fireplace.

  He started grabbing more of the glass objects off of the shelves. Each became a missile of his smoldering wrath. Lalique, lantern vases, symbols of harmony and balance, were rendered pointless as they met the walls and exploded into countless shards. Glorious, multi-faceted Swarovski lions, panthers, and eagles followed. Blown glass angels, dogs, and horses, met their doom in the same way.

  When he’d exhausted the glass collection, he walked over to the library. He rummaged in the side-table drawer and found an antique letter opener. Testing the cold metal in his hand, his eyes narrowed even more as he walked over to his wall of paintings. “There’s nothing beautiful in this world! It’s all just make-believe, the folly of crazy artists who like to pretend like me.”

  He lifted his arm to drive the dagger into the billowing sails of a painted ship when someone grabbed his arms and held them motionless.

  “This isn’t going to bring her back.”

  If he didn’t know the truth, he’d have thought it was Michael’s voice.

  “You’re nothing to me,” he hissed. He struggled to free himself, but he was too tired to go on. His whole body was shaking with weariness. He dropped the knife and tried to catch his breath. When he loosed himself from whatever had hold of him, he let out a final sigh, a final summing up of his life. “It’s all worthless.”

  He needed to go to bed, but once he was there, he couldn’t sleep. Like his glass collection, he was shattered, fractured and in pieces. Every thought was a cutting reminder that he was a fool. Everything he believed in met a wall of destruction and was rendered nil and void.

  Forty-Three

  THE UPSTAIRS OFFICE of the townhouse that Tim and Peggy shared was neat and orderly, but Tim paced its length nervously. He stopped in front of Kevin and frowned. “It’s been a week since the accident, and Peggy’s getting more upset every day. How is she going to get better if she can’t relax?”

  “Hold that thought,” Kevin whispered as he crossed the room to the door. After he closed it, he turned back. “She’s downstairs in the living room, and as you know, she’s got great hearing.”

  “You’re right. I’m so preoccupied with her situation I’m not thinking clearly.”

  “I know how that is.” Kevin walked over to a chair and sat down. “But this is still about Arel. That’s why she’s worried. I can’t believe that he’s being so ignorant. Carol has sent him countless emails explaining the situation, and he’s never replied.”

  Tim dropped into an adjoining chair and let his shoulders sag. “You saw the guy. He can hardly take care of himself.”

  “Yeah, but Peggy thinks that she’s to blame for his reaction after she sprung the family idea on him.”

  Tim shrugged. “She also insists that he’s in trouble. Her intentions are good. She doesn’t even know him, but she’s bent on helping anyway.”

  Kevin crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s my sister. When she gets like this, god knows what she’ll do.”

  “I tried to talk to her, to convince her that he’s not her problem—”

  Kevin interrupted with a loud laugh. “You can’t talk Peggy out of something once she makes up her mind.”

  “That’s not true. She can be very reasonable.”

  “Aw, come on. We both know better than that. No, if we want her to get better we have to do something. I’ve come up with some ideas about finding this guy.”

  “What ideas?”

  “When I was in college, I worked in a parking garage like the one in the Med Center. There are always cameras in those places, images of the traffic in and out. Maybe we can track Arel down if we can get a license number.”

  “After all this time, would there still be a record? And how would we get access anyway?”

  “I’ll find a way. And if I can get a license number, I have a friend that works at license renewal.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “I’m not going to let Peggy down.”

  Tim sat up straighter and leaned forward. “I’m with you. I’ll do whatever.”

  For several minutes, both pondered Kevin’s plan. Finally Tim broke the silence. “By the way, how’s it going with Carol?”

  Kevin snorted. “I tried to apologize a couple of more times, but she won’t let it go. It’s not right. Look at this mess her involvement with Arel has caused.”

  “I don’t know, Kev, you might be off base with this one. I don’t think you can blame her. Technically, she didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It just makes me mad. This whole thing is crazy. Besides, I never meant to hurt her.”

  “From what Peggy’s told me, she’s very sensitive.”

  Kevin’s frown softened. “Yeah, and I’ve screwed up whatever chance we had.”

  “Maybe not. Things could still work out.” Tim stood up and started for the door. “Come on, let’s go down and cheer up Peggy. Maybe we can go out for lunch. Get her mind off of Arel.”

  “No thanks, I’m going to get started on my plan. I’ll tell you if I get anywhere.”

  “You’re a great brother. Don’t beat yourself up over what happened with Carol. Like you said, you didn’t mean to hurt her.”

  “Me and my big mouth, I don’t know why I don’t learn.”

  Tim gave him a playful grin. “Don’t worry, you’ll always have Peggy to help you, no matter what’s going on.”

  Forty-Four

  IN THE DIMLY lit grayness of his bedroom, Arel drifted in and out of sleep. Was it night or day? He couldn’t tell anymore. Past and present blended together too. Was his father haunting him for real or was he just remembering his childhood? He didn’t know. His screaming fits were down to zero. He didn’t have the energy to indulge in them now. Fevers ravaged his body. His lungs were like heavy bellows he barely had the strength to work.

  I’m finally going to do it. I’m really going to die.

  The trick was not to care about anything. Up until recently, he’d lived on and on because a small part of him refused to give up. That part clutched at the lie that there was something in life besides his pain.

  What a stubborn fool I’ve been, but no more.

  He welcomed the darkness, his downward slide into oblivion. He longed to plunge so deep into its depths that everything would cease to be. Sleep was a perfect vehicle. Sometimes, he was able to drift into a dreamless state and remain there for hours.

  And I need to get some sleep now. I need some relief from this splitting headache.

  How did his body still have enough vitality to hurt this much? Why didn’t he just pass out permanently? The answer didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He started to turn over when a spark of light caught his eye. He stared back through a haze of pain. There was an area of brightness across from the bed, and it was getting bigger.

  If that’s you Abrigail, forget it. I don’t believe in your kind anymore.

  If it was Abrigail, she didn’t listen to his protest. A wavy outline began to appear in the light. After a moment, a form came into focus.

  “I’m not an angel,” a voice announced.

  He froze and tried to swallow. He knew that voice. It had flesh and blood roots.

  Oh my god, it’s the old woman from the hospital.r />
  The sound of soft laughter shattered the stillness of the room. “When you came to see me, I didn’t feel like I was so old. You helped me to forget about age.”

  His heavy lids opened wide. With effort, he managed to sit up and stare at the shadowy form. “It can’t be you. You’re dead.”

  More unrestrained laughter filled the space as the form solidified in front of him. Standing tall and straight, Mrs. Hayes looked back with radiant blue eyes. She had a youthful face, not the lined and wrinkled one he remembered.

  “I look pretty good for being in my grave, don’t I?”

  Her lighthearted remark made him grab for his pounding temples. “This isn’t happening,” he said in as steady a voice as he could manage. He couldn’t allow a new bout of madness to start up. Maybe he was weak, but his will was stronger and more determined than ever. As he got closer to his goal of exiting the land of the living, he wasn’t going to let himself falter.

  Mrs. Hayes stepped closer. “My dear, please, don’t be like that.”

  “Go away!”

  “But I’ve come to visit.”

  “You don’t exist!”

  “But I do,” she whispered insistently. “I guess you’re right about the ghost part, but I’m not your imagination, I promise you. Just listen for a moment, please.”

  “No!” He croaked out the word in a hoarse shout of desperation, realizing that she frightened him. He shut his eyes, struggling for air, wondering why he was trembling more than ever.

  Of course, I’m afraid. A part of me wants to pull me back into the world. Some insane portion of my mind is using more tricks to confuse me.

  The glowing form moved closer. “Now just stop that! I’m not a projection of your mind.” If the words were stern, Mrs. Hayes’ smile was compassionate. “It’s not easy to appear like this, and I don’t want to waste any of our precious time together on nonsense.”

  “Our time? What time are you talking about? You gave me five minutes in the hospital, and then you were gone. Now I’m supposed to believe that you’re here again. If you really were a sweet old lady, you’d never have been so cruel.”

  “You’re wrong. I did care, and I care about you now.”

  “If you cared, you would have stuck around, at least for a little while!”

  “I wish I had, for your sake, but you were so helpful when you came to see me. Your presence, the things that you said, made my fears melt away, and my soul slipped out of my ailing body so easily.”

  “What?” His blood pressure soared so fast he was instantly dizzy. “Are you saying that you died because I was nice to you?” A swirling mass of new anger intensified his headache, turning it into a blinding migraine. He had to take a moment to calm himself. When he recovered a little, he couldn’t stop himself from expressing his outrage. “How dare you! I’m rotting here, ready for the grave myself, but it’s nice to know that you benefited from my visit.”

  “I never wanted to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

  “And that’s supposed to mean something? What good does your apology do? I have no one, nothing!”

  “That’s not true. No matter what you think, you’re mistaken about things. First of all, Michael is real. And secondly, your grandmother still loves you.”

  “More lies.”

  She gave him an imploring look. “I know it’s hard to believe, but maybe this will help to convince you of the truth.” She turned and went to his dresser. “It’s a present from your grandmother.”

  Seething with indignation, he started to get out of bed, grabbing hold of the nightstand, forcing himself into a standing position. He teetered on unsteady feet. “What are you talking about now?”

  She pointed to an object sitting on the bureau. “Isn’t it lovely?”

  He blinked back, trying to make out what she was showing him.

  “Your grandmother knew you needed it,” she said as her image began to blur.

  “I don’t believe you!”

  “Please try.” Her form was quickly dissolving as she spoke. “She loves you, Arel, you have to know that.”

  Her voice echoed, hung in the air as the room returned to a shadowy darkness. As the last of the light disappeared, he looked towards the space where she had stood by the dresser. The room was empty again. He was empty.

  “What the hell?” He was about to turn away when he noticed a shiny glimmer on the dresser. Something was catching a few rays from the night light. With a hasty gasp, he pushed off from the bed and staggered towards the chest of drawers. He traversed the ten feet in a stumbling gait as the fever escalated and made his legs feel like rubber. When he saw what beckoned him forward, he froze.

  “My angel, it’s back.” He was instantly overwhelmed by a dizzying sea of questions. He grabbed for the dresser. Could it be true? Did his grandmother really want him to know she was thinking about him, even now, after all these years?

  “You’re still my boy.” He heard his grandmother’s voice. He smelled her wonderful lavender scent. The fragrance filled the room. It conjured up a feeling of softness and belonging to someone who would love him, a person who would protect him from living nightmares.

  “Grandmother?” His heart sped up, but not in a steady way. It was jumping around every few beats, unable to find a rhythm that synced with life. His mind felt the same way, jumping from present to past. For a moment, he was a child again, a child with wishes and hopes for something better. He picked up the glass angel and pressed its smooth surface against his cheek, trying to cool the inner fires of fear and distrust. “Grandmother, do you hear me? Please, answer me!”

  He slumped against the dresser as he waited and listened. But the only sounds he heard were his heartbeats. The vessel in his chest thumped out an erratic message of weariness, reminding him of how old he felt. He wasn’t a boy anymore. He couldn’t be tricked with words or a shiny piece of glass.

  Still, he remembered his fit of anger, and how he’d destroyed the angel figurine. He remembered seeing it explode into a thousand pieces when it hit the fireplace. Now, its exact replica was in his hand, whole and perfect. How could that be? It was an impossible puzzle. He didn’t have the energy to explore a mystery. Instead, he pulled himself up, placing the angel back on the dresser. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.”

  Forty-Five

  SITTING ON HER living room couch, Carol grabbed the remote and switched off the television. She moaned as she put an empty bowl on the coffee table. “Oh lord, I can’t believe I ate all that popcorn,” She had to remember not to make so much now that Kevin was gone. She let out a heavy sigh that had nothing to do with overeating. It wasn’t only Kevin that she’d lost. Arel had vanished too. And Peggy was caught up in her own world.

  Carol’s life scenario was repeating itself. Somehow, when she got too involved with people, she always ended up miserable. Sure, things started out great, but that’s not how they ended.

  She’d been such a happy child, skipping on the beach with her mom and dad, thinking she was the luckiest little girl in the world. Fast forward ten years. She was in her room with her hands over her ears, trying to shut out the shouting matches between her parents, crying herself to sleep when the word, divorce, got past her efforts not to listen.

  After that, she was abandoned in the backwaters of their lives. Her parents’ bitterness and crumbling marriage took center stage. They looked at her and mouthed some ‘I love you’ sentiments. They told her things would be okay, but the truth was that they forgot about her.

  So I ran away.

  She wanted to punish them for what they’d done to her life. They destroyed everything.

  Still, that was a dumb move.

  She sat staring into her past, acknowledging her failings, but giving herself credit for rebuilding her life after her bad decisions. Little by little, she learned to be on her own. Then she had the bright idea that she wanted more. First there was Arel, who turned out to be a friend, which was fine. But, then there was the whole mess with Pegg
y getting weirded out over him. Then there was Kevin’s reaction.

  Kevin, I thought you might be the one, but now, you’ve ruined everything.

  They had enjoyed being together. They didn’t have to do anything special to have a great time. There was chitchat and interesting discussions, snuggling and sharing. When Kevin laughed, the sound filled the room just like his physical presence. She missed his solid body next to hers. Now, she had to move on.

  Give yourself a break. Get busy. Start rebuilding.

  She stood up, grabbed the popcorn bowl and hesitated. Rebuilding didn’t mean that she had to give up on her desires, did it? Sure, her old life was safer, but she didn’t want to go backwards. She wanted more than the same old routine. Before her breakup with Kevin, she’d actually paged through a bride magazine at the drug store checkout counter.

  She walked to the kitchen and practically threw the plastic bowl into the sink. A new wave of self-pity hit and so did the tears. Before she could find a new box of tissues, her cell phone rang. It was Kevin’s ring tone.

  “What now, more excuses?” She paused, wiping her nose with a napkin and taking a deep breath. When she answered the phone, Kevin’s voice was the one she remembered from their dating days. He sounded nice. She was lulled into a momentary daze of desire. It was interrupted by what he was telling her. She pressed the phone closer. “You did what? You located Arel? Really?”

  The call was over quickly, the conversation brief. Afterwards, she felt a little better. Maybe it was because she could put her rebuilding plans on hold and concentrate on seeing Arel again. Maybe it was because she still had dreams that Kevin might somehow redeem himself. She took a deep breath and let it out quickly. “No, stop it, don’t go getting carried away. You already fooled yourself once, don’t do it again.”

  Forty-Six

  MICHAEL STOOD KNOCKING at Arel’s bedroom door. “I have to talk to you. It’s very important.” He’d had to honor Arel’s delusions and his seclusion. With Arel’s decision to abandon the world and the angelic realm, Michael hadn’t been privy to what was happening in the closed chambers. Arel had become extremely proficient in shielding himself.