by Josie Finch
But it wasn’t the sunlight that had woken him up—Warren was sure he would have slept in longer if the excruciating need to pee. He ignored the disgruntled meows and chirps as he disrupted the nest of cats to pull himself out of the hay and make his way outside.
Behind the barn he relieved his bladder and miraculously managed to re-button his pants beneath his protruding stomach. He examined his torn shirt and found the buttons were still holding. He thanked the heavens for the ugly coat. Without it he might as well have been naked—there would have been no hiding his secret.
He ran his hands over the swell of his abdomen. It was awkward but not really painful. Still, Warren didn’t blame Lettie for not wanting to give birth the human way. He was grateful he would not have to give birth the human way. He was also immensely grateful he only had to be pregnant for a few days.
Warren buttoned his coat back up and braced his arm against the barn. He leaned his face into the crook of his arm. Worry tightened his chest. He didn’t know how being pregnant was supposed to feel. He didn’t think he had felt the baby move yet. Then again, he hadn’t had much time to be still and just focus. He felt desperate to get to the hub where he could get answers. Angels who came and went from earth would know what to do—or at least know how to get ahold of an angel who would. And they would help him. Angels always helped.
Warren turned around and leaned his back against the barn wall. He turned his face up into the sunlight. He took several deep breaths.
The sun was high—Warren guessed the time to be about noon. They had gone to sleep very shortly after sunrise. They had probably only gotten four hours of sleep. It would have to be enough.
Warren stretched and walked back around the barn. Just inside the door, Pastor Ellis had set up breakfast on a makeshift table made of a square of hay: A couple boiled eggs and hard tack crackers set on a cloth. Clearly the Anderson’s didn’t have much, but what they had they were generous to share. In his hands the pastor held two cups: a heavy, chipped mug with no handle and one made out of tin. Joseph handed Warren the tin cup.
The contents were nothing more than a very weak dandelion tea, but it was hot. The steam felt good on Warren’s face and the hot drink soothed his insides.
Without a word they peeled the eggs, suffered through the flavorless crackers, and enjoyed the hot tea. Their breakfast was finished in two minutes, but it felt like a feast in the midday sunshine.
Warren stole looks of the pastor as they ate. Warren was enjoying seeing him in the light for the first time. With his dark hair and features, Warren had thought the pastor had brown eyes, but he saw now they were a hazel-green. Some men looked better cloaked in shadow but Pastor Ellis could hold his own in the light just as well as in the shadows. Warren buried his face in his cup, hoping any blush that might be on his cheeks would be mistaken for heat radiating from his tea.
Finished with his breakfast, Pastor Ellis turned toward Warren and paused like he was going to say something then changed his mind. Instead, he opened the conversation with, “Are you feeling any better?”
“Yes,” Warren answered. “I needed to get some sleep.”
“I was really worried about you. I hope you won’t be offended but… The ride out here almost killed you.”
“I’m sorry to make you worry,” Warren said. “It… it isn’t what it seems.”
The pastor looked him over. “You’re hurt worse than you’re letting on?”
“Not exactly.” Warren bit his lip. “I’m not actually hurt.”
“Then… what are you?”
Warren sighed, but he made eye contact with the pastor. “I want to tell you the truth. But…”
“But?”
Warren set his cup down. “I’ll have to show you the truth.”
The pastor set his cup down next to Warren’s and gave an expectant look.
Warren shot a glance toward the house out the open barn door as though to convey he didn't want to be overheard. He stood and took a few steps into the shadows of the barn. The pastor followed.
Telling the truth of the situation to Pastor Ellis felt like the most vulnerable thing Warren had ever done in his life. He didn't even know Pastor Ellis's first name and yet Warren wanted so desperately for the Pastor to believe him, to be close to the person who had done so much to help him.
Warren stopped and stood next to the pastor instead of in front of him. Warren felt like he could only look out of the corner of his eye. The shoulder of Warren’s oversized coat pressed into the tailored shoulder of the Pastor's long wool coat. Warren reached out and grasped the pastor's wrist, guiding his hand to come to rest inside his coat, on the protruding curve of Warren's abdomen. Pastor Ellis did not pull away. Warren felt his fingers splay, his cold touch absorbing the heat and the truth.
Finally, Warren just said it. “I’m pregnant and I have to get to Cunard to deliver the baby.”
Warren watched the look of astonishment widen the pastor’s features. Warren had seen suspicion on the pastor’s face earlier when he had caught Warren from falling off the horse. But this look was startled, amazed, and bewildered all at once. The pastor didn’t even try to hide his reaction—and he also didn’t get defensive. There was just wide, open belief in his eyes.
Finally Pastor Ellis managed, “How… how is this possible?”
“There are angels, living as people here on earth,” Warren explained slowly. “I’m one of them. So is my sister. She did run into trouble… but as an angel she was able to give the baby to me. And I'm going to do everything I can to take care of the baby. But I need help from other angels to have her. That's why I have to get to the church in Cunard in the next few days. There will be angels there who can help me.”
Joseph just stared.
Warren tried to help by explaining, “They... uh… can separate our souls by divine means. I won’t have to deliver the baby like humans do…”
Pastor Ellis met Warren’s gaze brazenly before he looked back down to his hand resting on the cure of Warren’s pregnant stomach.
Warren continued, “That’s why the old woman said you were traveling with a man and a little girl. She could sense us because we are angels.” Warren held in a sigh. “I know it is lunacy asking you to believe me. But it’s the truth. I had to tell you.”
The two men stood sheltering the secret between them, the barn standing over them like a sacred church on the cold, winter prairie.
“So…” Pastor Ellis ventured. “You’re not a photographer from Beckettsville, then.”
“Oh, I am a photographer. That part was true. And I grew up in White Spring. But just yesterday I was living in California. My sister stopped in and when we all got into trouble she sent me back home to White Spring… with a baby.”
“Then… who punched you in the face?”
“No one. I did that to myself. I wasn’t very graceful when I fell from Heaven.”
At that, Pastor Ellis actually smiled.
“Well. It wasn’t quite Heaven I fell from,” Warren conceded. “But it wasn’t earth either. Regardless, I’m here now.”
“I’m glad you’re here now,” the pastor said easily.
The sincerity of his tone made Warren feel warmer than the dandelion tea had.
“I’ll fill you in on more details when I can,” Warren said. “That is, if you’re still willing to keep helping me?”
“Of course I am,” the pastor answered softly.
With his confession off his chest, Warren was feeling much better and braved his next move.
“So, now you know this,” Warren said, pointing to his stomach, “I need to know something about you.”
Pastor Ellis gave a nervous glance up. “What’s that?”
Warren smiled. “Tell me your first name.”
Pastor Ellis gave a sharp smile with his sigh of relief.
“You know,” he said. “I haven’t heard it in a long time. No one calls a pastor by their first name.”
“Has it been so long you
’ve forgotten?” Warren said playfully.
Joseph shook his head, the hint of his smile still on his face. “It’s Joseph.”
“Well,” Warren said, voice low. “It’s good to meet you, Joseph.”
A warmth blossomed between the two of them before Joseph stepped away. Warren’s hopes hooked on the idea that Joseph might volunteer more conversation about himself, but instead the pastor gazed out the barn door to the open horizon.
“From here it’s twenty miles to Cunard. With half the day gone, we can’t make it by tonight. We barely have any food, but, we shouldn’t stay here much longer.”
Joseph glanced back and Warren nodded deeply. Warren stepped over to look out and a white beam of light fell over his shoulder.
“The sun is warm, and I have faith,” Warren said.
Joseph seemed to understand his answer. “We’ll head out within the hour.”
Chapter Six
Joseph may have just learned there were angels living on earth, but he didn’t allow himself to be distracted from the journey in front of him. The trek across the barren prairie was arduous, especially keeping at a comfortable pace for Warren to ride most of the time. Joseph remained alert of his surroundings and found his hand resting on the heel of his pistol more often than not. Even if Warren had not been beat up and robbed by highwaymen, it was not unheard of for such things to happen out on the trail. And the threat of wildlife was greater in the wintery seasons when food was scarce.
The secret Warren had revealed about the baby had unlocked a protective assertiveness in Joseph he had never felt before. As a pastor, he was used to being a guiding presence in people’s lives. But he led from a gentle place of comfort and patience. This feeling was different. His vision was sharper, his senses more alive. He felt driven by an inward purpose rather than pulled along by outside force. Heaven would always be above him and in his thoughts, but here on earth he had to fight for what he loved. It wasn’t just about himself and Warren, he also had to look out for the baby. Until they reached the church and other angels at Cunard, Warren and the baby were Joseph’s responsibility. It made Joseph feel like they were his family.
This side of himself was new and exhilarating. Joseph allowed the feelings and drives to thrum through his body and burst in his chest. Even if the feeling only lasted for a few days, it was worth it. It had been so long since Joseph had felt so alive.
Joseph and Warren couldn’t talk much on the trip, but it was just as well. Along with keeping alert, Joseph had to tend to Belle. Joseph had her used to keeping a hasty clip and she was properly annoyed by the slower pace. She huffed often to let her feelings about things be known but she kept a steady gait. All three of them had to push through over the hills, with only their solitary thoughts for company.
By sunset they were all physically and emotionally exhausted.
Joseph staked out a place to camp for the night and unloaded his gear. Warren insisted he do something and Joseph had to force himself to be quiet and let him help. Warren set up a tether for Belle and Joseph had a small fire going before Warren had finished brushing her down. Joseph was holding back—he wanted to ask if Warren was all right and tell him to rest, for himself and the baby. But Joseph didn’t want to be overbearing, so he just focused on making up the campsite for the night.
There were some scrubby trees around so Joseph had enough kindling for a fire. He also managed to come across an abandoned stump loose in the ground. Joseph lugged it to the campsite for Warren to sit on. The man could barely get down to sleep on the Anderson’s hay the night before. It made sense now that Joseph knew about the baby and he wanted to make Warren as comfortable as possible.
As the last stripe of sunlight faded into darkness, Joseph got a pot of tea boiling. At the Anderson farm he had filled his canteen up with water and filled the cheesecloth with herbs. It was the only food they would have for the evening. Joseph filled a tin cup full of tea and placed the rest next to the fire to keep it hot. He was sitting on the ground before the fire when he heard footsteps behind him.
“I loosened her tether. There’s some grass left, so she can graze a bit,” Warren said as he came into the ring of firelight. “But she’s set up for the night.”
“Thank you,” Joseph answered. “I have a handful of oats left, but she’ll need that for breakfast.” He gestured to the stump he was sitting next to and Warren took a grateful seat upon it. Joseph only had one cup in his mess set and he handed it up to share the tea with Warren.
“It’s stronger than dandelion this time,” Joseph said. “But not much.”
“Smells good,” Warren commented taking a sip. “Tastes good, too.”
Joseph watched the firelight play on Warren’s features and gave into voicing his concerns. “How are you feeling? I know we don’t have much. But if there’s anything I can do for you, I will. This trek with barely any food has to be difficult for you.”
“I’m all right,” Warren said without hesitation. Though he looked tired, there was a certain sense of contentedness about him that radiated like the warmth from the fire. Warren took another drink and passed the cup back. He shrugged. “I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like being pregnant so I can’t tell if I’m doing it wrong.”
Joseph couldn’t help but smile. “You know, I’ve done a lot in my life as a pastor, but I’ve never delivered a baby. Let alone… a man’s baby.”
“Fortunately for both of us, angelic deliveries are much less painful than human ones.”
“So. How exactly…does a man… uh…” Joseph trailed off, not knowing how to phrase the question politely.
“Have a baby?”
“Yeah.” Joseph swallowed his tea. “That.”
Warren grinned. “Well, I can’t do it by myself. Another angel will have to take me to another place, a different spiritual plane. Once there, her soul will be separated from my body and we’ll both be brought back to earth.” Warren shrugged. “I’ve never seen it done, but it is a common practice.”
Joseph nodded. “Back at the Anderson farm… Leta said she saw you and a little girl. You know the baby is a girl?”
“Yes, the baby is a girl. Leta could see us because she’s part angel. A very small part—she probably doesn’t even know. But angels can sometimes sense each other in different ways. That’s what she was seeing, even though she is blind.”
Joseph handed the cup back. “Humans and angels… have families together on earth?”
“Yes. It happened a lot more in the past than it does now. Thus all the part or half angels running around.”
“Are you a full angel?” Joseph asked.
“Yes.” Warren took a long drink. “They call us the Fallen.”
Joseph nodded. “I’ve read about those. But I have a feeling you’re going to tell me the things I’ve read about them aren’t true.”
Warren handed the cup over and gave a sharp grin. “You’re right.”
Joseph bit his lip then asked, “Are you allowed to tell me the truth?”
“I can only tell you the story.” Warren shrugged. “How much of it is true, not even angels know.”
“It’s a good night for a campfire story,” Joseph joked.
“Well, I’ll do my best.” Warren paused then started, “Before earth was created there were many other worlds, filled with angels. They lived, they died, and then they went to Heaven. The story I heard growing up was that when earth and humans were created, it sparked a pretty big disagreement between angels. Because humans were not going to be granted immortality in heaven. Some angels approved of this and others didn’t. The group of angels that didn’t… they gave up their place in heaven for humans. These angels came to be known as the Fallen. These angels were my ancestors.” Warren’s gaze drifted out to the dark prairie. “In giving up their place in Heaven for humans, a special bond was forged between Fallen angels and humans. To this day, humans… well. They just feel special to us. Even the difficult ones feel special, unfortunately. Regardl
ess, from then on, Fallen angels were able to live on Earth alongside humans and to have families with them.” He glanced back toward the fire. “Well, the rest of the angels called themselves the Righteous and united to throw the humans out of Heaven. Their plan was somehow thwarted, so the story goes. Every soul—human or angel—was banished from Heaven, the gates of Heaven locked, and the keys hidden. The entity you consider God—the one who created everything—simply vanished. The expelled souls are drifting somewhere, in a sort of purgatory until we can find the keys or another entrance into Heaven.” Warren sighed. “Ever since, a vicious war has been raging on the different worlds between the Fallen and the Righteous. It’s been going on for thousands of years. Sometimes I don’t think they know what they’re actually fighting for. There are so many small battles being waged in the larger war. Many of the worlds that were inhabited by Fallen angels have been infiltrated or destroyed by the Righteous. But there’s one place in the entire Universe that the Righteous cannot go.”
Warren glanced over and Joseph swallowed the pain in his throat.
“Here,” Joseph whispered.
“Yes. Earth is a sanctuary for Fallen angels. So sometimes Fallen angels come to earth to live their lives quietly, away from the turmoil of the war. That’s what my parents did. They were both full Fallen angels, but my sisters and I were born on earth. I’m the only one that stayed here, though. My sisters, Clara and Lettie, left earth to go help fight. I’m proud of them, but it’s not the life I wanted.” Warren shrugged. “So I became a photographer.”
“Are your parents still here?” Joseph asked.
“No, they both died, many years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
Sadness lit by firelight played over Warren’s face. “We all live, we all die. Humans and angels. Righteous and Fallen.”
“Sinners and saints,” Joseph added quietly.
“Yes,” Warren said.
There were dozens of questions running through Joseph’s mind. How much of his work as a pastor had been a lie? Who wrote the Bible, what about sin, is there really a hell? Lucifer and Gabriel—the apostles—Christ. Where did they fit in with the locked gates of Heaven and a raging war between angels?
