by S. J. West
It only takes Faison a second to understand my meaning but when she does, she nods her head. “That’s only to be expected with what you’ve gone through. Don’t you dare let him try to take things faster than you want. You hear me?”
“That’s the thing. He’s not pushing me at all. He’s letting me set the pace on how far we go.”
Faison smiles. “See, another reason I like him.”
“I’m the one having trouble with it,” I confess. “I want to share all of me with him so badly, but when he touches my body in certain places, it’s like I have a mental block which turns into a physical block. It’s getting aggravating.”
“Look, you’ve been through a lot. Stop blaming yourself for not being able to go much further than kissing. You’ll get there eventually. Plus, getting there is half the fun anyway. Don’t rush things. Enjoy the newness of it all because things only happen the first time once.”
I give Faison a hug realizing her wisdom is far beyond her years. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Faison pulls back and looks at me. I can tell she’s uncomfortable with what she’s about to say.
“Uh, I don’t know how the whole Watcher sex thing works,” she whispers, “but you’ve got protection right? I can always bring you guys some condoms from the Planned Parenthood department at the hospital.”
I blush profusely with the reminder.
“Honestly, I didn’t even think about that.” Considering what Mason told me about the wives of the Watchers who became pregnant, I realize it’s something I should make inquiries about. “Yeah, bring me some, just in case.”
Better safe than sorry.
Chapter 15
When I go back to the kitchen, Chandler has a white and black striped t-shirt on underneath his jacket. There are also three new, black metal Maglite flashlights sitting on top of the table too.
“Quick trip back home?” I ask.
“Gotta love insta travel,” Chandler says with a grin. “Now, can we go get my talisman? I’m getting kinda jealous you and JoJo have met your archangels, and I haven’t been able to talk to mine yet.”
I grab my sword and crown from the table.
“How is JoJo doing? Still asleep?” I ask Mason.
“Isaiah is with her and yes she’s still asleep.”
“Man, I hate to not be there for her when she wakes up,” Chandler says.
“I will be,” I reassure him. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there when you wake up too.”
“We should all take a flashlight,” Mason tells us. “Like I told you before, the cave is sealed from the outside. It’ll be pitch black when we phase into it.”
Not having any other place for it, I end up sitting my crown on my head because I only have two hands. Seeing that I’m going to wear my crown, Chandler sit his on his head too.
“I really need to get a belt or something for this thing,” I say, trying to hold the sword up in one hand while holding the flashlight in my other.
“Maybe JoJo can make you something that’s flame retardant,” Mason suggests. “A baldric would probably be the most comfortable sheath for you.”
“What’s a baldric?” Chandler asks.
“It’s a sheath that allows you to wear the sword on your back. It would give Jess freer movement than having the sword on a belt around her hips.”
“Yeah but she'll look wicked cool with a sword dangling from her hips.”
Mason scowls.
“Why don’t we go?” I suggest, not wanting to give Mason an excuse to keep Chandler, and his suggestions on how to make me look cool, away from me.
Mason tells us to turn our flashlights on before we phase. I’m glad he makes the suggestion because as soon as we arrive, we’re surrounded by nothing but stone and blackness. The cave smells musty and the air seems stale, like there are only minute cracks in the walls that let fresh air from the outside enter the space.
“Not exactly the Garden of Eden,” Chandler complains.
“No,” I agree, “not the Garden of Eden.”
“This is where Adam and Eve were exiled to after they were made to leave Eden,” Mason informs us. “Come on. Jubal’s resting place will be at the very back of the cave.”
“Why the back?” I ask.
“Because even in death, people feared he would use his powers to control their minds.” Mason looks at the sword in my hand. “Can you make the sword show its flames whenever you want?”
“No,” I say, lifting the sword in the air. “It’s like it has a mind of its own.”
“Just remember,” Mason warns us, “there are disturbed souls in here. Try to stay out of their way. Some of them still don’t realize they’re dead.”
“Uh, what happens if we can’t stay out of their way?” Chandler asks.
“It won’t be a pleasant experience. Especially for you,” Mason says, full of ominous portent. “Since you’re already sensitive to the emotions felt by others, I fear you might not be able to deal with the emotions felt by some of the souls. Many of them have been trapped here for a few thousand years and are completely insane. Just be careful and don’t let any of them touch you.”
Mason leads the way deeper into the cave. Chandler stays close to my side, sweeping his flashlight into dark recesses, not wanting to take a chance that a ghost might be lurking in a corner or behind a rock. Mason’s warning has struck a cord within my friend, making him extra cautious.
As we walk around a bend in the cave, we come to a complete stop.
There is a woman sitting in the middle of the cave floor cradling a baby swathed in a blanket. She’s rocking the child back and forth singing to it in a language I don’t recognize. As if sensing our presence, she looks up. Her eyes are missing and the sockets look raw, like she intentionally clawed her own eyes out. She stands quickly and starts to yell at us angrily. In that instant, I actually do fear for my own safety.
The sword in my hand comes to life. I feel it vibrate just before the blade bursts into flames.
Even with its sightless eyes, the ghost seems to stare at the now flaming sword of righteousness and flees, vanishing as she runs into one of the cave walls.
“Please, keep that on,” Chandler says, taking a deep breath. “I seriously don’t want to have to feel whatever that woman was feeling.”
Chandler takes a step closer to me and I instantly feel my protector mode switch on.
“I won’t let anything harm you,” I tell him.
I suddenly realize the role I am meant to play within the circle of archangels we are forming. Just as my father is a Guardian of souls, I am the guardian and leader of the archangels while on Earth. Without my father’s strength, I might not be able to step into the role I am meant to play for the others. I might not have the ability to channel feelings like Chandler or make clothing which holds supernatural abilities like JoJo, but I’m just as important. The others will come to me when they need protection and guidance. I am their center.
As we head deeper into the cave, we end up passing many sad, pathetic souls along the way unable to find rest in death. Even without touching them, I can feel the depth of their sorrow because it permeates the air with their hopelessness. Fortunately, the flaming sword in my hand seems to make most of them scatter before we get too close.
As we near the end of the cave, the figure of a little girl around the age of seven appears in our path. She is completely naked and shivering. Her hair and skin are damp like she just stepped out of a bath. For some reason, I feel drawn to the child and begin to walk towards her.
Mason grabs one of my arms just as I pass him. “Jess, what are you doing?”
“Trust me,” I tell him.
Reluctantly, Mason releases my arm.
I hand him my flashlight. He takes it.
I walk over to the little girl and kneel before her. The flame of the sword illuminates her large brown eyes as she looks at me, but unlike the other souls in the cave she doesn’t seem scared of the sword o
r me.
“I’m here to help you,” I tell her.
She shivers, silently watching me.
“Are you lost?” I ask.
She nods her head and I can hear the chatter of her teeth.
“Would you like to go home?”
She nods vigorously.
I lay my sword down beside me and hold my arms out to her, silently beckoning her to accept my embrace.
“Jess,” Mason hisses, “what are you doing?”
I hear the worry in his voice but know I have nothing to fear from the soul in front of me. She is simply lost, unable to find her way out of the maze of the cave. For whatever reason, her soul became trapped here when it was meant to go on. I know I can help her. I am my father’s child.
Cautiously, the little girl walks closer to me. When she’s so close I can feel her cold breath on my face, I wrap my arms around her wet body. She rests her damp head on my shoulder, finding comfort in my warmth.
Instantly, I know why she’s been trapped inside this cave. It’s like a movie playing in my mind. I see her drown in a river not far from where we stand. Her soul never fully understood she was dead, and she’s been searching for her mother ever since.
“You’re mother passed away a long time ago,” I tell the little girl. “You won’t be able to find her here. You need to pass on too if you truly want to be reunited with her again. Let go of this life. It’s not the one you’re meant to lead.”
I feel her head nod against my shoulder. She lets out what sounds like a deep sigh and suddenly I’m holding nothing but empty air.
I pick my sword up and stand.
“How did you know you could help her?” Mason asks, as he and Chandler come to stand beside me.
“Her soul was innocent,” I tell them. “Most of the souls in here aren’t but her soul was.”
“How could you tell the difference?” Chandler asks.
I shrug. “I just knew. I don’t know how exactly, but I have a feeling I might have inherited the ability from my dad.”
“It’s possible,” Mason agrees. “It is a gift the Guardians have, to know the true nature of a soul.”
Mason takes my free hand and holds both our flashlight in his other one.
“You worry me sometimes,” he says, squeezing my hand.
I grin at him, knowing he was only worried about my safety.
“So are we almost there?” Chandler asks.
I can tell he’s anxious to find his talisman now that we are so close.
“Yes,” Mason says. “Follow me.”
At the end of the cave, we enter a large cavernous space. The walls of the cavern hold a myriad of chiseled out body length openings and a scattering of bones can be seen lying within them. As we walk further into the room, I hear the strings of what sounds like a harp being played.
“Do you hear that?” Chandler asks, sweeping his flashlight in the direction of the music.
“Jubal,” Mason calls out, his voice echoing against the walls, “show yourself.”
Almost instantly a man appears at the far end of the cavern sitting on top of a medium sized stone. He’s dressed in a brown ratty looking wool robe. His hair reminds me of Charlton Heston’s hair when he played Moses in the Ten Commandments except Jubal’s hair is brown and doesn’t look like it’s been washed for quite a while. He’s holding what looks to me like a small harp in his right hand, propped up on a bent leg, strumming its strings, causing the music we hear.
The song is a melancholy tune and brings to mind the sad days I suffered through after my parents disappeared the night the Tear appeared in the sky. I can vividly remember being shuffled around to various social workers who were over burdened with the number of children left abandoned that night. The stench of the state run facilities, a mixture of bleach and pine sol, seems to permeate the air around me.
I look to Mason and see a sadness in his eyes that hasn’t been there since the night he left me. Chandler seems to be the only one of us unaffected by Jubal’s playing. My friend leaves my side and walks up to Jubal.
Apparently not used to such audacious behavior, Jubal stops playing, releasing Mason and I from our sad memories, as he studies Chandler standing before him.
“Why are you not affected by my music?” Jubal asks Chandler, eyeing him like he’s a curiosity.
“I’ve had very little in my life to make me sad,” Chandler tells him. “I guess you could say I’ve led a charmed life.”
Jubal continues to play his harp but the tune changes.
This time it reminds me of my talk with Lucifer when he asked me if I wanted him to send Uncle Dan to the Void and cease the torture he was going through in Hell. An overpowering guilt racks my body because I know I should have asked Lucifer to spare Uncle Dan. Even though the son of a bitch deserved what he got, I couldn’t imagine him suffering through an eternity of torment at the hands of Lucifer or any of the minions under his command. My humanity should have overruled my quest for justice leading me to ask for a reprieve for Uncle Dan. I didn’t. An overpowering sense of guilt and disappointment in myself is brought out by Jubal’s music.
When I look at Mason, I know exactly what guilt he is reliving. The scar on his face made by God as a reminder of his failure to lead the Watchers down the right path throbs bright red.
“Stop playing,” I order Jubal, desperately wanting to stop the music’s torturous affect on Mason.
Jubal doesn’t stop. When he looks up at me, his eyes are filled with madness. It’s then I know Jubal isn’t in complete control of his actions. I get the feeling he can’t stop playing even if he wants to.
I see Chandler jump to the side and look down at his feet. I look where Chandler is standing and see a great serpent slithering on the cave floor around the stone Jubal is sitting on.
“He won’t let me stop,” Jubal says, eyeing the serpent with unadulterated hatred. “He came to me you know,” Jubal continues. “After I made the first of my instruments, he came and told me I could move the minds of men with just my playing. If only I had known then, what I know now. He won’t let me stop playing. He won’t ever let me go.”
Just as I’m about to take a step forward to strike the snake with my sword, the snake disappears and reappears wrapped around Jubal’s body like a corkscrew.
“Fight,” Chandler urges Jubal. “Make him leave you alone.”
Jubal shakes his head, no fight left in him.
“He has won.”
“Only if you let him,” Chandler says. “Do something right for once. Help us.”
Jubal looks up at Chandler. He stares at my friend for a long while, never ceasing his playing.
“How are you filled with so much hope?”
“Because hope gives you a reason for living. Help us and find hope in knowing you’re doing something good for once. Something he doesn’t want you to do. Fight him, man.”
Jubal places an open palm on the strings of the harp signaling the end of his song.
“I will help you,” Jubal says, looking at a pile of bones in one of the cut out tombs to the wall on his right. “Go and get what you came for.”
Jubal drops the harp, which disintegrates in the air like it was made of vapor. He wraps his hands just below the serpent’s head like he’s strangling it.
We watch in horror as the serpent’s head grows large enough to swiftly swallow Jubal down to his waist. A cry of agony can be heard just before the scene disintegrates just like the harp did, like it was never there in the first place.
“Hurry, get your talisman,” Mason tells Chandler.
As Chandler walks over to the tomb Jubal pointed out, I turn to Mason and still see the haunt of pain in his eyes. His scar pulsates with the feelings Jubal’s music forced him to face again.
“Are you all right?” I ask him.
“I will be,” he replies, “as soon as we get out of here.”
I turn back to where Chandler is and see him pull out something white that’s about a foot long.
The crown on his head begins to glow and Chandler collapses onto the cave floor with a thud.
“Oh,” Mason says, “I hope he didn’t hurt himself.”
I look at Mason and see a small grin on his face.
“You are so bad,” I say, knowing he forgot to warn Chandler that he would instantly collapse if he was wearing the crown when he touched his talisman.
“Just think of it as getting even,” Mason replies as we walk over to Chandler to make sure he’s all right.
Mason lifts Chandler easily into his arms.
Even unconscious, Chandler holds tightly to his talisman. To me it just looks like a piece of bone with holes drilled into it.
“What is it?” I ask.
Mason studies it for a second and says, “It looks like a pipe made of ivory. Hippopotamus ivory most likely. Grab onto my arm,” Mason instructs me, looking around the room warily. “Let’s get out of here before Jubal looses his fight.”
I grab hold of Mason’s arm.
He quickly phases us to Chandler’s room in his villa. Isaiah is there because JoJo is lying in Chandler’s bed.
“Everything went well?” Isaiah asks.
Mason lays Chandler down on the other side of the bed from JoJo.
“As well as could be expected,” Mason answers. He pulls a folded blanket from the foot of the bed and covers Chandler with it. “Call either me or Jess if JoJo stirs earlier than expected.”
Isaiah nods, understanding the order.
Mason reaches out his hand to me across the bed over my two friends. I place my hand in his and we’re instantly standing in my living room.
Mason pulls me to him and hugs me tightly.
I know he’s still trying to overcome the effect of Jubal’s haunting music. In all honesty, so am I. I hug him even tighter as we use one another to bring comfort to our ravaged souls.
Chapter 16
After a while, I feel Mason’s hold on me loosen and I pull back to look at him.
“How are you?” He asks.
“I’m fine. How are you?”
Mason smiles. “I’m good. I’m always good when I’m with you.”
