Michael's Blood

by S S Bazinet

  It’s so easy to love them. They truly are like my family.

  He shut his eyes, trying to keep his feeling of loss and grief from weakening his resolve. If he loved his friends, he wouldn’t abuse their kindness anymore. That meant severing his ties with them.

  Sixty-Two

  ON THE DAY of the wedding, the weather was perfect. The temperature, which had been hitting the high 90s, dropped down to the 80s. The humidity was low. Chicago was showing off. When Arel and Michael arrived early at the church, the interior was pleasantly cool and inviting.

  “Michael, check all the flowers. Make sure they’ve been put where they belong. Here’s my placement chart. Make sure you don’t miss any.”

  As Michael moved down the aisle to do as he was told, Arel pulled out his list and began going over it again. He couldn’t believe how nervous he was. He’d hardly slept, and when he did, he had nightmares. He kept dreaming that Mrs. Hayes was reaching out to him and when he reached back, his mother’s face was glaring at him, laughing at him. “You’re such a disappointment, such a burden to your father and me.”

  Every time he woke up from the dreams, he was trembling, realizing that his mother was probably right. He was a burden to his old family and to his new one, but not for long.

  He did have one small way of giving back before he let his friends go. As he stood in the church, he would try to make sure that everything was perfect for Peggy and Tim’s wedding. “And see that the ribbons on the pews are attached properly!” he called to Michael. “And I don’t think the floor runner is as straight as it should be.”

  Michael turned and smiled at him. “Can we talk for a moment?” he asked as he walked over to where Arel was standing.

  Arel checked his watch. “Now? We don’t have time—”

  “But maybe you could take a few minutes out. If you like, there’s a garden behind the church. Enjoy the setting there. And I’ll take care of anything that needs attention here.”

  “But—”

  Michael’s face was totally serene, but his eyes held the slightest look of exasperation. “Don’t worry. I’ve attended a few weddings. I know what needs to be done.”

  Michael's simple explanation seemed to clarify everything that Arel had been thinking about the night before. “Yes, you’re right. I’m making a fool out of myself with all my demands.”

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying.”

  Arel swallowed the lump forming in his throat as he studied Michael’s face. He’d already accepted the fact that he’d been taking advantage of everyone. Now, looking at Michael, the truth cut deeper. “Just spit it out, Michael. I’m a tiresome, obsessive, tyrannical fool. That’s how you see me. That’s how I look to all of you, isn’t it?”

  “You’ve had your moments, when you might have been a little demanding—”

  “A little demanding? I listen to myself, and even I’m amazed at how stupid I sound.” He let out a loud, scoffing laugh that echoed throughout the still chapel. “I’ve become a laughing stock, yelling at people while I arrange flowers. God help me, I never thought I’d end up like this! I was better off hunting rats in an alley! At least I had the strength to function. Now I can’t lift a heavy pot off the stove. I’m totally pathetic.”

  “It takes time,” Michael said, putting his hand on his shoulder.

  He shrugged it off. As the time neared for him to let go of the group he’d come to love, his misery rekindled old anger. After losing Mrs. Hayes, he should have learned that attachment always led to heartache. “Leave me alone! Get out of my life once and for all. I don’t want family. I don’t want you!”

  “Please calm down. It’s Peggy and Tim’s wedding day. You don’t want to spoil that, do you?”

  He gritted his teeth. The lump in his throat had turned to bile, a vile fluid that made him sick to his stomach. “No, dammit, of course I don’t.” Taking a few gasping breaths he started backing away again. “You take care of everything. I need some air.” As he turned and walked slowly up the aisle, holding on to the backs of pews, Michael called out.

  “Arel?”

  “What?”

  “One look at your face and they’ll see that you’re upset. Come back, and we’ll try to work this out.”

  Arel stopped and glanced back. He gave Michael a charming smile that made his face go bright. A moment later, he let it fade away. “Poker face, remember? They’ll never know.”

  * * * * *

  Pausing, gathering his strength, Arel gave the wrought iron, garden gate a hard shove, making it swing back so fast that it hit the iron fencing with a clang. His jaw tightened as he walked towards the beautifully kept church gardens in front of him.

  Look at this place. Michael’s clone must take care of it.

  Sunshine flooded a winding, brick path that meandered through vibrant, colorful flower beds. Towering maples and old oak trees dotted the edges like stately overlords. The chirping of birds added a chorus of sweet, lively song. Was he supposed to be inspired by his surroundings, calmed down by a bunch of marigolds and trees?

  As he stepped foot on the path, he clenched his fists. He’d meant what he’d said to Michael. He was finished with everyone. He’d move out of state, buy a place where people couldn’t find him. He’d bar Michael from his life and become a hermit again.

  I’m so much better off by myself.

  His argument for solitude was met by the facts. He hadn’t fared well on his own. He was sick and dying when Michael came along.

  He brought his gaze back to the idyllic setting. Everything around him knew how to live and to love its life. The flowers, the lush green grass, the squirrel scampering up a tree, all seemed to have the gift that he was missing. He was the only one that was lacking, barred from the joy of being alive.

  It was the same way when he’d been with the group. They made each day seem so easy. Sure they had their problems, but underneath, they had a buoyancy that he didn’t have. The happiness that they shared with him was something that was a part of them. For him, it was always on the outside, something he couldn’t manufacture on his own. Then the truth hit him. He suddenly understood the difference between himself and his friends, including Michael.

  To know love on a permanent basis, one has to have a vessel that’s capable of holding love, and mine can’t do that. Love spills out of my heart faster than it can be replenished.

  He knew that Michael was right when he said that human and angel were both fueled by love. There was a reservoir of the stuff that flowed out of them, but not in his case. When he listened to his heart beating, it had a hollow sound.

  Michael’s blood might have driven out the curse, but I was broken before the curse. I’ll always be broken, until the day I die.

  He raised his eyes to the clear, blue canopy of sky. “If there is a god up there, he’s cruel and pitiless. To give me life when I’m destined to only know loss is beyond cruel, it’s evil!”

  His eyes burned, not with light, but with a dark resentment. A vile bitterness rose in his throat that he couldn’t swallow back. The source was a hundred years of misery that he’d honed and crafted day in and day out. It lived in his gut, and now it was alive with fury and an explosive power that he’d never experienced before.

  “Why should the damn birds be happy when I’m so wretched?”

  Looking up again, he even loathed the sun.

  “Where’s my light?” he screamed. “Why is my soul kept in darkness?”

  The solar orb seemed to answer by withdrawing from him, needing to hide itself from his scathing, venomous eyes. In its place, a black, threatening cloud drifted over the garden. Its ominous presence was as hostile as the spitefulness that poured out of him. He was shadowed in a deep, dreary gloominess that he remembered from childhood. He sneered back. “Is that what you want?” he bellowed at the heavens. “Do you want me shrouded in darkness forever? So be it!”

  He opened himself to a well of hopelessness. He embraced it with a desire so ferocious that
he felt his body shutter violently.

  Life isn’t fair! It’s a never ending torment! It’s hell in all its glory!

  The proof was in the heavy burden of sorrow and anguish that came up from the depths of his soul. It filled him with its virulent power. A great mass of black rage joined in and began to swirl inside. He tried to keep the tears away, but they came anyway. They turned into racking sobs of grief and loss.

  Mrs. Hayes, Carol, Peggy, Tim and Kevin all rose up in a circle around him, laughing at him like his mother. In the end, they hadn’t served him. They’d been there to show him how gullible he was to think that he mattered. In truth, he was a pathetic loser.

  He raged at himself and all that was around him. He dropped to the ground and straddled the grass on his hands and knees, heaving and gasping as an incredible energy expanded inside of him. He thought he was going to be sick. But instead, a great blast of desolation spewed out from him.

  Sixty-Three

  THE CHURCH WAS filled with music and joyful smiles as Peggy walked down the aisle. When Arel saw her glance his way, he made himself smile too. He was a blackened shell inside, but he had to hide his true feelings from her. He couldn’t let her call his bluff. He had to slip out of her life before she had a chance to know what happened.

  And you won’t find me this time. None of you will find me again.

  * * * * *

  After the ceremony and the compulsory photo session, Arel knew he had one last stop to make. He had to go to the reception. After his earlier outburst, his mind felt empty. He was physically exhausted as he walked to his car. It didn’t matter. He was determined to keep up his ruse. He’d maintain his normal behavior until Peggy and Tim were safely on route to their honeymoon.

  Michael intercepted him in the parking lot and grabbed hold of his arm. “Come with me,” the angel demanded as he steered Arel in the opposite direction.

  Arel scowled back nervously. Michael’s voice had never sounded so harsh. Something was very wrong. “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  “No! We’re finished!”

  “Not yet.”

  Arel resisted, but only momentarily. Michael’s hold on his arm was tight. He had no choice but to follow the angel towards the church garden that he’d visited earlier. His body was beyond tired, but his senses went on alert as they proceeded. He could feel everything changing. The air got heavier and so did the energy around him. The feeling was so intense and dense that it sapped his ability to move forward. Michael was practically dragging him along by the time they reached their destination. As they rounded a corner close to the garden entrance, a cold chill went through him, warning him that he needed to brace himself for what was coming. When they arrived at the garden gate, his breath caught. Michael released his arm, but he had to grab hold of the iron balusters to stay upright. Open-mouthed, he gazed at the landscape. “My god, what happened?”

  A war zone lay in front of him. The flowers were gone. The trees had become stark, ghostly creatures, reaching out with barren limbs. There were no birds, no small creatures, no life at all.

  “You’re wrong. There is life,” Michael insisted.

  “Where?” Arel looked closer and pulled back in disgust. The once green gardens had been cannibalized by malignant vines and weeds. Their greedy, thistly forms had choked out the beauty and left the area looking desolate and hellish. His first thought was that he was looking at a scene from a fairy tale. In the fable, a wicked witch had waved her wand and cursed the area.

  Michael opened the gate and gestured for him to enter. “It wasn’t a witch’s wand.”

  Arel shook his head. “I don’t want to go in there.”

  Michael took his arm again and pulled him forward. “I’m sorry, but you have to.”

  A sharp, biting wind greeted them as they passed through the gate. Arel trembled as the gust knifed through his body. “Why is it so cold? I don’t understand what’s going on.”

  Michael let go of him and sighed. “Arel, you did this.”

  Arel laughed, knowing the angel was completely mad to make such a statement. “That’s ridiculous. I can barely go up and down the stairs. You know that.”

  Michael stared back with a mixture of conviction and compassion. “Here’s what I know. Your power has been growing, but up until now, that power has been directed towards your body. You’ve been taking something beautiful, a design of the Creator, and destroying it. Your friends helped to slow down the process, helped you to start valuing yourself, and your body got better. Now, in your present, negative state, that power is not only being turned on yourself, but expanded.”

  Arel shrugged. “What has that got to do with this mess?”

  “This morning, you destroyed this garden.”

  “No!” Arel’s protest was almost shouted. He wouldn’t believe such a horrible lie. Yet, as his gaze traveled over the dark, thorny plants and the bleak trees, something in his chest stirred. In his heart, he knew that the plot of ground was a perfect expression of how he’d felt earlier. The ugliness around him was like the ugliness inside of him. The idea came as a terrible blow. He had to grab for Michael’s arm as he began to remember what had happened before the wedding ceremony.

  Arel stared up at the angel. “Oh god, Michael, it was me! It was like I hated everything. Then I kind of lost it. After that, I couldn’t stop what happened.”

  Michael’s eyes softened into pools of blue light. “Arel, when you saw yourself in the mirror this morning, didn’t you notice you were looking so much better? You were getting your health back. Didn’t that give you hope? Why did you throw it all away?”

  Arel swallowed hard. “What do you mean?” As he asked the question, the answer was already forming in his mind. Michael was talking about what he’d done to his body. When he’d lost hope in the garden that morning, when his feelings rose up out of him and he showered the landscape with his rage, the energy sapped his physical vessel of its newly won strength. What he had regained was lost.

  “Dear friend, you’ve done more than that to your body. You’ve added to the damage.”

  Arel paid no attention to Michael’s grave expression. He let out a bitter laugh. “So what? What does it matter?”

  He turned back to the desolate garden again, despising what he saw. His soul craved beauty. That’s why he collected art and surrounded himself with things that would take his mind off of what was abhorrent. Now ugliness was all around him. He walked over to one of the most misshapen and twisted of the tall weeds. Its form repulsed him. It was a reminder of all the horrors he'd been privy to in his life. In a rush of fresh anger, he grabbed hold of the spiny, outer stem, pulling at the tough plant, cursing it. But it resisted him. Its roots were already deep and unyielding.

  “Stop it, please!” Michael ordered. “You’re not strong enough.”

  “Leave me alone!” Arel shouted back as he pulled at the horrid thing with more fervor. The thorns dug deep into his tender hands, but he paid no attention to the pain. Finally, unable to loose it, he dropped to his knees and began to dig in the muddy soil, clawing at the dirt, needing to uproot the miserable plant. Michael tried to pull him back, but it was too late. “Dammit, not now!” he gasped as his heart seized. “I’ve got to fix this mess.”

  A second devastating attack took hold of him. He’d never experienced anything as crushing before. He knew at once that he’d pushed his body too far. In a panic, he clung to the plant as he looked up.

  “Michael—“ He wheezed out the one word. It was all that he could manage. His breath, where had it gone? Where was the oxygen that he needed? His mouth was gaping, hoping to take in the invisible substance, but like the thorny weed, it resisted him. “So tired,” he finally gasped in a barely audible tone.

  The atmosphere around him, his body, everything was so heavy. An enormous weight pressed down on him, and he was helpless to resist it. His mind was exhausted too. He’d tried so hard, but he couldn’t measure up. A silent plea we
nt out from him.

  I try to be what you want, Michael. Why do I keep failing?

  The thought was lost as the pressure squeezed more of the life out of him.

  Michael fell to his knees next to him. “My dear friend, I never asked anything of you, except to be yourself, to love who you are.”

  Arel stared back with eyes that were dark, golden pools of confusion. “Love myself? What is there to love?”

  As he asked the question, another attack of pain hit, slamming him so hard, he fell forward like a stone. Michael caught him, pulling him close, cradling him in his arms. “I'm here.”

  Arel felt his heart grab harder. “Don’t leave me,” he begged.

  Michael’s soft eyes became resolute and determined. “Never! I’ll never leave you.”

  Barely able to hold on to the world that he’d hated and fought, Arel tried to hold on to Michael’s face. Using all his strength to touch Michael’s cheek with his muddy hand, he could only keep it there for a brief moment. “Please . . . forgive me.”

  “There’s nothing to forgive.”

  Michael’s words were spoken in the kindest way, but Arel’s heart wasn’t as understanding as the angel. He heard its cry, its accusation.

  I’ve gone too long without love, not the love of friends, but without your love.

  Like a child thrown in the closet and forgotten, the vessel hadn’t been tended to or nourished. It had been created to carry blood and joy. But in its neglected state, it had been forced to carry all the emotional burdens that Arel had thrown its way. Guilt, remorse, self-loathing, and rage were his heart’s daily fare, along with a myriad of other dark matters. Now the worn out vehicle inside of him couldn’t go on.

  “I think . . . I’m . . . dying,” Arel gasped.

  “Hold on to me,” Michael said. His eyes were intense and pure, like crystal blue windows of love and gentleness. There was also a fierce strength in their gaze. Michael was fighting for him, pitting his own beautiful energy against the force that was carrying Arel away from his cradling arms.