The Works of Julius St. Clair - 2017 Edition (Includes 3 full novels and more)

by Julius St. Clair

  And the longer I stood there, thinking of myself as the odd man out, the easier it became to believe it. Of course I wanted to belong, and to pretend that I always had, but that wouldn’t make my trip to Heaven any easier. There was no guarantee they would make it, so I had to distance myself – to make sure the separation was easier for all of us in the long run.

  But I couldn’t just disappear either. They would search for me all over the island and it wouldn’t take long before they’d conclude I was gone. Speculation and sorrow would set in. They would wonder why I was chosen and not them. The group would separate and in despair, turn into the very angels we promised to never become – the Absent.

  “No,” I said aloud to no one. “That won’t happen.” Maybe there was a way to let them know where I was going so that they wouldn’t be depressed when I left - prevent the offset of becoming an Absent.

  As long as we have each other, there is hope. That’s what Cadence used to tell me in the early days, and it was the only advice I had ever gotten. Hearing his words echo back at me, I resolved to spend my last moments on the island with them. Until my departure, I would leave them with some good memories, make them understand that I didn’t abandon them outright.

  It didn’t take long to get to them. I figured they would be in the meeting area - a slightly brown-green patch of grass that was easily identifiable amongst the rest. With the rest of the field immaculately trimmed, it was easy to spot the outcast. And our group, more unique than any other on the island, gravitated toward it like dust under a vacuum.

  I started missing them as soon as I floated down to the patch for they were in full lovable entertainer mode. No one could capture an angel’s attention like they, and despite the apprehension of many to join our group, they couldn’t help but watch whenever we got together and started playing around or showcasing our next verbal sparring match. I didn’t have a clue as to why no one had joined us after my arrival. Maybe angels had started giving up – I did notice the Absent increasing in number lately.

  But it was nice to see a few still in their right mind hanging about, watching my friends embarrass themselves from a distance. And what a sight it was. Marcus was head-butting the invisible glass ceiling, wincing with every consecutive blow as Farah, that little bird, used all her mini-might to wrap her arms around Marcus’ neck and thrust it upward, causing his head to slam harder into the barrier. It was so hilarious to watch, all I could do was burst out laughing as I half-stumbled, half-floated down to where Cadence and Alessa were watching in awe, shaking their heads rhythmically.

  “Where’s the new angel?” I asked Cadence, who was captivated by the circus act up above.

  “Absent,” he said calmly. He was used to these things.

  “Already?”

  “Unfortunately. You saw the way he was acting. It didn’t take long.”

  “I see…”

  A loud thump echoed from above, and I let the subject of the new angel go, to focus on the ridiculousness that was Farah and Marcus.

  “How long has this been going on?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

  “About twenty minutes,” he said slowly, partly paying attention.

  “There was one smash in the beginning where it looked like they might break through,” Alessa said. “I started cheering and making a fool of myself, but then Marcus rubbed his head and fell down to the ground, clutching it like it was going to pop off.”

  “If God placed the barrier there,” I said, “I don’t see how this is going to work.”

  “Well, Farah said if God let her do it once, she can do it again. Who are we to say she can’t, right?” She winked toward me and I crashed backward onto the grass to get the best view. Farah was getting frustrated, and was now plowing Marcus’ head into the barrier with great fury, bonking it every two seconds. Marcus’ limbs were starting to resemble cooked spaghetti.

  “I don’t think Marcus is going to make it.” I said. “He’s not aware of what’s going on anymore.”

  “The knucklehead will be fine,” Alessa replied, and then turned to Cadence. “I said that correctly, right? Knucklehead? Is that the word?”

  “I don’t care,” Cadence responded in a monotonous tone.

  “What are you two talking about?” I asked. She turned to me.

  “I’ve been going through the database, studying slang. It’s words that have an exact definition, but they are used to infer another. For example, knucklehead means someone who is hard-headed or stubborn in slang, but one could assume the real definition means he has a head that literally looks like a closed fist. See what I mean?”

  “Of course,” I said. “Look at the way his hair is cut short and made of tiny spikes. He definitely has a knucklehead.”

  Alessa snorted and giggled while Cadence sighed again.

  “Another waste of time,” he said, bored. “Slang.”

  “Oh, c’mon,” I said, sitting up. “We all know you search through the database for fun.”

  “You have no proof.”

  “Everyone does it.”

  “Okay, and that sounds logical to you? That’s your evidence?”

  “Why wouldn’t you do it? We have all this knowledge to sift through, and you’re telling me that you ignore it?”

  “If there’s a reason I need it, then yes, I’ll access the library. If not, then I forget about it.”

  “You’re so boring,” I laughed. Alessa slapped a palm on his forehead playfully. He ignored it and closed his eyes, probably searching the database for ways to kill an angel.

  “I heard that,” a voice said behind me. I swiveled my head to see a very intimidating Marcus puff up his chest. His nostrils were flaring like a bull’s and he stuck a meaty finger in my face. The scary part was that it almost touched me on the lips.

  “I heard that,” he repeated, but I played dumb.

  “Heard what?”

  “Knucklehead!” he yelled at me angrily.

  “Are you calling me a knucklehead?”

  “No…” he paused. “You call me knucklehead.”

  “That’s not very nice… but okay. Knucklehead.”

  “No. You call me knucklehead.”

  “I just did. You want me to call you it again?”

  “No!” he roared. “CALL ME KNUCKLEHEAD!”

  “OKAY, MARCUS!” I screamed at him, struggling to keep the corners of my mouth rising. “KNUCKLEHEAD!!!”

  “NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” he bellowed and Cadence cut him off at the pass. Using his trusty shield, he blocked one of Marcus’ fists from colliding with my face. Cadence pushed Marcus back gently and led him away, patting him on the shoulders and talking to him in whispers. Marcus kept looking my way, past Cadence, but after a few seconds, he focused only on what was being said. Thankfully.

  “I can’t believe you, Lysander,” Farah said in a motherly tone, her hands on her hips, but then she suddenly burst out laughing. “I tried. I tried. I just couldn’t keep a straight face. That was hilarious! Good job!”

  She extended a hand up and I gave her a high-five. Marcus was usually trying so hard to incite fear in others over his size, that she loved it when he was taken down a notch. Being Marcus’s very own immortal, pesky housefly was one of her self-proclaimed hobbies, and she had become an expert in a very short amount of time.

  “I didn’t know you could do that,” she mused, hands on her hips again, a big smile plastered on her face. “I thought Marcus scared you, to be honest. You tend to clam up around him.”

  “I guess I’m feeling courageous. Feeling like I should try new things,” I said with my best smug voice. Farah raised an eyebrow and chuckled again.

  “Well, keep at it. We have to keep the big guys nice and humbled.”

  I felt warm from her compliment and I immediately wanted more. I could probably count on one hand how many times I had received one. But despite this, I decided to put my comedy act on hold and quit while I was ahead. Good memories of Lysander in Farah’s mind – check.


  “So I need to loosen up more?” I asked to no one in particular.

  “Yes,” Alessa said with added emphasis, “it’s better than being a loner who’s scared all the time. And look at how natural you were too!”

  The compliment felt weird coming from Alessa, like it was caked with sarcasm.

  “Okay,” I said, looking down at the grass. “Maybe we should change the subject. So…who’s idea was it to use the hardest substance in the universe to crack the barrier?”

  “Marcus,” Farah giggled. “It was all him. The whole idea sounded crazy the moment he said it but of course I didn’t tell him that. He was actually happy when I volunteered to help him get ahead, if you catch my drift.”

  “I think we do,” Alessa giggled as Marcus and Cadence came over to rejoin us.

  “Marcus has something he wants to say,” Cadence announced. Marcus scrunched up his face like he had caught a whiff of rotten eggs.

  “Sorry. Tried to hit you,” he muttered.

  “I accept,” I said. “And I’m sorry for calling you a knucklehead.”

  “I’m not,” Alessa said boldly, standing up to face him directly. “You think bashing your head against the barrier would actually cause damage to it?”

  “Don’t know,” Marcus replied, rubbing his head idly. “Bored.”

  “There has to be a better way,” she huffed. “Right, Cadence?”

  “Whatever,” he yawned, stretching out on the grass.

  “Some leader you are,” Alessa muttered and then made a “gather around” motion with her hands. “Listen up, we need to be smart about this. Instead of sitting here debating about Heaven, or bashing our heads against invisible walls, we should put our heads together.”

  “But Alessa, we already used our heads,” Farah giggled, winking at Marcus, who frowned and clutched his brow in fear.

  “No more heads,” Marcus agreed.

  “Dummy, I mean we should access our databases and work on how to break the barrier from there. We talk about getting to Heaven a lot, but we never focus on the real problem – that we’re stuck here. By removing the barrier, we’ll be free to go.”

  “You don’t think there’s a reason it’s in place?” I asked, and Alessa snapped her head back, appalled.

  “And what reason would that be?”

  “What if we break through and we disintegrate? Like, we can only survive within the island’s parameters.”

  “Farah broke through. She’s okay,” Alessa said matter-of-factly as Farah nodded in approval.

  “You don’t even believe her story!” I cried out and Farah pouted in response. Alessa refused to turn her way.

  “She said she did it!”

  “You don’t believe me?” Farah whimpered, but Alessa wouldn’t let up her defenses.

  “I think it’s worth a try,” Alessa stressed, swatting at Farah who was creeping closer to her face.

  “I’m tired,” Marcus stated. Cadence sighed heavily.

  “As long as everyone stops talking about it,” Cadence said, “and Marcus joins in…I’ll help with your search – but only about the barrier. If we start getting distracted, I’m out.”

  Hearing Cadence agree to investigate a matter was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and Alessa wasn’t about to let it pass by.

  “Marcus is joining us,” she volunteered for him happily, “because we’re a team.”

  Marcus sneered in response but Alessa patted him on the back and rubbed his forehead, which soothed the beast. The four of them sat down in different spots approximately two feet from each other, closing their eyes and beginning to delve deep into the knowledge God had given us. I didn’t bother participating. I had to keep a close watch on my deadline or else I would be trying to find a way through the barrier myself. With their eyes closed, I didn’t think they would notice my absence of effort, but I soon discovered that being alone, even with the group present, brought on a whole new form of sadness.

  I couldn’t bear the fear of forgetting them – of not knowing whether my life would go by and they would become nothing more than buried memories. When I got to Heaven, would I laugh? Would I easily make new friends? Dwelling upon Heaven’s analysis, there were certainly visions of angels flying toward it, but no snippets of laughter or angels celebrating along the streets were seen in the slide show. Heaven didn’t equate to total happiness for us since we lacked the evidence to make that assumption. But it was something new and different, and that was enough to look forward to it. It was what kept us moving ahead, but what was the point of going there if you couldn’t share the experience with your family?

  I looked over to the left, back at the red and purple cosmic dust, which was now beginning to take shape at an accelerating rate - the two sides or crests of the mass crashing into each other gently like an oceanic wave, culminating into a spray of fireworks that separated only momentarily, before being pulled into the center. It was a star, enduring its growing pains.

  But the display was merely a large distraction from the main show. I noticed that not all of the cosmic dust returned to the center, joining its proverbial brothers and sisters for centuries to come. Some of it became collateral damage in the crash, thrust from the gathering and out into the blackness of space, sprinkling amongst the planets and rocks and ice. It settled, and did not move again. And suddenly, I interpreted our interactive mural, our animated painting. For God would not leave an elaborate show of that caliber without purpose.

  I understood the lesson completely…who represented the cosmic dust that became the star, and who were the granules being cast away. Our group and the Absent. Those who maintained their sanity – fought through the hardship, the crash of the waves, and those who gave in, and were discarded.

  But this revelation didn’t relieve me. It disturbed me.

  Because Heaven and its mysterious ambassador had somehow gotten it all wrong. I had just gotten the lesson, not a second sooner, and I could barely give myself credit.

  The only reason I had survived this long was because I had Cadence and the others to string me along and give me some strength. I could have easily become one of the Absent inhabiting the island, hopelessly staring at the same cosmic dust, looking for answers and slowly declining mentally as my frustration increased.

  So where was the justice? What did it matter if I made it to Heaven, while they were forced to remain? Why? What was the reason they had to stay on the island? To assist new arrivals? That was the only logical explanation, but it was still unfair to them. I had done nothing to warrant Heaven’s welcome, and the more I thought about it, the angrier I became. So I made a decision.

  I would say no. That’s right. I would decline the offer, until all of us made it in. Unless…I was just an angel for them to mentor, to assist in my development until I got the lesson on my own…was that my ticket into Heaven? And the mysterious angel simply knew this would happen ahead of time? Had Cadence and the others been available during my time on the island because they were here to push me along to this moment? Did they really need me, after all? Or was I a passing student?

  “There better not be any barriers in Heaven,” Alessa muttered under her breath, and a nervous chuckle escaped my throat as I hoped to see Farah slam Marcus’s head into the barrier one last time. An accusing eye burst onto the scene, and glared at me suspiciously.

  “You weren’t searching with us, were you?” she accused me, her body relaxing as she opened both her eyes and scrunched up her eyebrows into an upward V.

  “No. I wasn’t,” I whispered sheepishly as the rest began stirring themselves back to reality, giving me strange looks.

  “Why not?” Farah asked. Cadence leaned in for an answer.

  “I was thinking.”

  “We’re all thinking,” Cadence said in a fatherly tone of voice. “Thinking about how to break the barrier. It’s what was decided on…not that you’re forced to participate. But we need you with us on this.”

  “Why?”

  “Because th
e more of us there are working on this, the faster we’ll come to a solution. I didn’t want to do it either, but since it’s productive, I chipped in, and Marcus too! That doesn’t happen very often.”

  “No, I mean why don’t I have to participate?”

  “You’re an individual. You can do what you want, Lysander,” Cadence replied. “All of us can.”

  “No, you’re misunderstanding me. I mean, why isn’t it a big deal if I participate or not? You were going to jump in only if Marcus did. No one asked what I thought. Why is that? I have nothing to contribute?”

  “What are you so worked up for?” Alessa’s voice began to rise. “This isn’t a big deal. I just got the feeling that this was something worth working on and I wanted to see if the group could help.”

  “A feeling?”

  “Yes. A feeling…I don’t know. It was just a feeling. What does it matter?”

  “Lysander,” Farah said sweetly, “why don’t you think you contribute?”

  “I don’t.”

  “None of us do.”

  “That’s not true. We all look to Cadence for direction –”

  “- for what reason, is beyond me,” he yawned, laying back on the grass, hands behind his head. “You’re blowing this participation thing out of proportion. Think about it. The only reason you all look up to me is because I was here before you. That’s it. The order could have easily been different.”

  “There’s more to it than that,” I said, but Cadence cut me off again.

  “Marcus doesn’t contribute. Especially not in the database department. We all know that. Farah entertains us with tall tales and Alessa opens her mouth. Do you understand what I’m telling you? We don’t have skills. We don’t have talents. We’re just a misfit ensemble of children waiting for their Daddy to come home. We just keep busy in the meantime so we don’t go insane and become one of the Absent. So you’re asking us what you contribute? Nothing, and that’s perfectly fine, because we all provide the same…nothing. Does that answer your question?”