Sanctuary Among Strangers

by Josie Finch

  Warren glanced over his shoulder and saw Charlton sitting on the table running an exhausted hand through his hair.

  Everything had happened so fast. If neither he nor Charlton was holding Leona…

  Warren’s panicked gaze was met by Reverend Pendle who just nodded calmly, directing Warren to look over his other shoulder.

  Warren turned and saw Joseph leaning against the end of the altar, holding Leona in his arms. His usually squared, poised shoulders were hunched protectively. She was crying but didn’t look injured.

  Warren rushed to them. When Joseph looked up Warren saw his eyes were bright and red with tears.

  Without even thinking Warren ripped open his shirt, the buttons scattering and showering echoes through the church as they bounced over the wooden floorboards. Taking Leona-Pearl in both hands he brought her to rest warm on the bare skin of his chest. In a few moments she settled and stopped crying. Warren held her there as Joseph wrapped them both in his loving embrace.

  Chapter Ten

  Joseph took a deep breath and held it as he dumped an entire bucket of icy water over his head. He set the vessel down and ran his fingers through his hair, shaking the excess water off his hands.

  Joseph had felt like he was walking on a cloud for the past few hours, and the jolt of cold water was bringing him back to the ground. Even after the excitement of bringing Leona-Pearl into the world, life kept going on, with all the mundane things in it—like Joseph needing to wash his hair and shave.

  There was a water pump behind the church and in Sophie’s packed wagon she had produced goat’s milk soap, a shaving kit, towel, and a little bottle of lavender aftershave. Joseph couldn’t tell if the wagon possessed some angelic properties or if Sophie was just incredibly prepared for their new life on earth in Iowa with the tulips.

  Indeed, anything they had needed after Leona arrived, Sophie retrieved it from her wagon or had sent Charlton to. The only thing they didn’t have was a baby cradle but Reverend Pendle thought fast and brought out one of his desk drawers and a church lady sewed up a liner for it fast.

  Sophie had then offered the items she had to let everyone clean up. Warren was wary of leaving Leona, so Clara had gone first. Then Joseph had made Warren go before it got too dark. Now the sun was setting and there was a chill in the air but Joseph still made the most out of the water and soap.

  But Joseph wasn’t just taking his time to get extra clean. He was fighting an uneasy feeling that he didn’t know what to do about. After everyone had settled and Joseph saw Warren with Leona, he tried to imagine their future together—but he couldn’t. It was like there was a heavy boulder in his chest, keeping him from moving forward.

  Joseph buttoned his shirt and grabbed the bucket, moving to sit next to Sophie by her campfire. She had warmed water for him and held the mirror for him while he shaved. She had asked him to tell her about his life, but Joseph wasn’t in the mood to talk. He told her that he needed a break and wanted her to talk to him, to tell him about her and Charlton.

  Joseph listened as Sophie told him all about her life in another world. Charlton’s father had been killed in the war and she had to raise him herself in a world that was dangerous, attacked often by the Righteous. They survived because Charlton could grab their souls and rush them away at any moment. When Charlton was old enough he had started helping others get away, too. It had been over a year they had been slowly relocating everyone from their world to others that were safer. They had completed the task and now Sophie and Charlton were allowed to leave and start over on earth. Joseph could feel the warmth and gratitude in her voice when she talked about how happy she was that Charlton was still young and could enjoy the rest of his life, and that she still had life in her to live and love new people.

  Joseph had asked about angel communities and Sophie told him about a few. There was one in Colorado called Mount Etna where Charlton had taken several Fallen angels. Joseph thought it sounded wonderful, but the more he thought about it, the heavier the boulder weighed in his chest.

  When Joseph was finished he cleaned the tools and folded the towel, and thanked Sophie for everything. She pinched his cheek and told him he knew where to find her if they needed anything else that night.

  Returning to the warmth of the church was a relief, both physically and emotionally. There were still dishes cooking on the stovetop and the church ladies sewing in a little cluster. They had a lot to do with Leona’s arrival, stitching together little night dresses and bonnets, and re-mending shawls to use as swaddling blankets. They had also sewn Warren’s buttons back on his shirt for him.

  Everyone was relaxed and laughing. Exactly, Joseph thought, what a church should be.

  The reason he became a circuit pastor to begin with was because he had never really felt comfortable in a church unless he was in one alone. But the point of a church was to fill it with people. For Joseph, growing up church had been all rules and the people, he was told, had been all sin. Be quiet. Sit up straight. Look sincere when you pray.

  Here, every stitch, every smile, every crumb of cornbread was a prayer, a gospel, an amen. Angels praised by living, and Joseph wanted the feeling to last forever. But the only feeling Joseph could get through was sadness.

  As he walked into the church, Joseph had a clear view of their little corner where Clara and Warren were sitting in a nest of quilts. It was comprised of several more layers as the church ladies kept bestowing their work to them.

  Joseph hung back to watch. Clara was holding Leona and feeding her with a small bottle. The bottle and tubing had been found among the clutter in Sophie’s wagon and an angelic recipe had been cooked up to feed Leona.

  Warren leaned back, propped up on his elbows, his legs half crossed before him, talking and laughing with his sister. He looked exceptionally happy and handsome, and Joseph let another wave of attraction rush over him.

  But after the pleasant feeling bloomed, a more sinister one took hold. Joseph was scared of losing him—and Leona.

  He watched as Warren sat up straight and took his newborn baby from Clara, cradling her like on a father could.

  Now that this danger had passed, Joseph knew they were going to be all right, for a while. The new dangers and challenges that would come at them would help them grow as a family. There would be heartache and joy, love and loss. Life, and a lot of it.

  Reverend Pendle joined Warren and Clara, kneeling down next to them and talking softly. Joseph used the distraction to grab his coat that was draped over a bench and quickly sneak away. As he walked toward the front church door he pulled the coat over his shoulders and buttoned the front. The protective layer made him feel better. The sharp black silhouette put him back in his place: wandering circuit pastor, stoic and solitary.

  No one asked where he was going. Joseph closed the door as quietly as he could behind him. The temperature had dropped and the sun had fully set. He traipsed down the stairs and took a few steps into the churchyard. He stopped and looked over his shoulder.

  Standing in the cold, the spell of the pristine church was broken. Now it looked like just an abandoned church on the lonely plains. The broken building looked like Joseph felt.

  Shoulders tensed, hands buried in his pockets, Joseph knew he didn’t want to be outside in the cold. He wanted to be warm and with the people he loved. People he loved in a way he didn’t even think was possible only a few short days before. Everything was so new and exciting and the light of his life had been reignited. Yet he was outside, alone in the cold. And he didn’t know if he could turn around and go back inside. Belle was snoozing on her line. It would only take a minute to get her saddled up.

  “Are you leaving?”

  Joseph spun around. Clara stood in front of the church door. She must have spotted him sneaking out. She regarded him with her clear gaze and steadfast, calm demeanor.

  Joseph knew he couldn’t lie to an angel. “I don’t know if I can stay.” He clawed at the lapel of his wool coat. “I don’t have en
ough room inside, for them. It’s… not fair. For anyone.”

  “It’s because you're carrying a ghost with you,” she said.

  Joseph shook his head. “What?”

  “When people die, they usually take a part of someone with them. I see people every day living with missing pieces, taken by those who have passed on.” Clara descended the stairs and joined Joseph where he stood. “But sometimes, the opposite happens. Sometimes the living are carrying around a piece of a spirit that should have moved on a long time ago.” She buttoned the two top buttons on Joseph’s coat. “You know who I'm talking about, don't you?”

  Joseph swallowed hard. He had never talked to anyone about his sister. Even in recent years he had not even brought up the subject with God.

  “What's wrong with keeping her memory alive?” Joseph managed to ask.

  Clara just gave a sad smile. “Her memory? That's fine. But you are a haunted person. And it's getting in the way of you living your life.”

  Joseph shook his head. “I don't know what to do. If something as miraculous as this can happen to me… but I still feel this way… I’m a lost cause.”

  Clara frowned. “Did Warren tell you what I do?”

  Joseph shrugged. “He said you can talk to dead people. You bring people back from the dead.” His heart skipped a beat and he blurted out, “Can you bring her back?”

  Clara shook her head. “No. I can only reach so far. But… I also send souls to where they need to be. I can help you make room within yourself. If you want me to.”

  “I don't know what I want.” Joseph was shaking but it wasn’t from the cold. “I've never lived without carrying this weight around. I'm terrified there will be nothing to replace it if I let it go.”

  “That may have been true in the past,” Clara said. “But is it true anymore?”

  Joseph thought about Warren and Leona-Pearl. “No, it's not true anymore.” He reached out and steadied himself by holding onto Clara’s shoulders. “But I can't do it. I can't let her go.”

  Clara placed her steady hands beneath his elbows to hold him up. “You're right, you can't. You need my help. But I'm here now. I can help you.”

  Joseph didn’t say anything. To get everything he ever wanted he had to do the one thing he said he would never do.

  Clara said gently, “I want you to know, you did the exact same thing I did. When Warren died and my parents told me I couldn't go after him, that it was too dangerous and I was too young, I went anyway. You did everything you could, you put your faith to the ultimate test. You fought... so hard. And you managed to save a part of her.”

  A hot tear fell down Joseph’s cheek, but he kept listening to Clara’s soothing voice.

  “But you're only human. You can't decide these things. And for that I am very sorry. But even if she didn’t get to have a life, I promise you, she wouldn’t want you to waste yours. Let me help you.”

  From the depths of Joseph’s soul, all his doubts and fears bubbled to the surface. “Clara. What happens to us when we die?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered evenly. “For angels, or humans. Their souls can linger on earth for a time, but I can’t see beyond that.”

  “Where do souls go when you send them away?”

  “I don’t know,” Clara repeated. “I just knows it is time. For them to stay would be wrong.”

  “There is no heaven,” Joseph choked out.

  “Oh,” Clara said gently. “There is a heaven. Whether we will see it in any other form besides the glimpses we get on earth—that we will all just have to wait and see. But I can tell you for certain, now is our time, to keep. To embrace. To love. So, let me help you before it’s too late.”

  Joseph nodded and let out a shaky breath. “Okay.”

  “Let's go,” Clara whispered.

  She took his hand and Joseph let her lead him to the door of the church. He didn’t want to go inside. He didn’t want to face Warren until everything was over.

  But stepping over the threshold and into the church, he was not met with the warm light and welcoming ambiance. Everything was grey and dark and broken. Like the building should look being abandoned and worn down. There was no light and no warmth.

  The pews were dusty, some broken and splintered. There was a slight figure sitting in the front row, facing the barren altar.

  Joseph let go of Clara’s hand and rushed to the front. He knew he would see her face when the girl turned to him. He fell down in front of her.

  She didn't talk. Joseph knew she wouldn't. He didn't really remember her voice. But he remembered her blue dress, her brown eyes, her dark hair.

  Joseph looked up to where Clara stood in the back of the church.

  Clara nodded. “Now’s your chance. Get it all out.”

  Joseph didn’t even know where to even begin. He turned his face toward his sister. He hadn’t seem her since he was twelve and she was nine. Her soft gaze settled on him with the innocence of a child.

  “I’m sorry, Sarah.”

  The words echoed into the high ceiling and Joseph knew that’s the confession he had always wanted absolved.

  “I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry you died being afraid of God, before you could know the love and safety of faith. I think of you often. I think of you when I do my work.” Joseph let the reality of his life sink into his mind and he barreled forward. “But I can't always think of you. I can't always think of you every time I see Leona. Or Warren… or Clara. You are a part of my life, but my life has grown. I have a family. I can’t be so afraid of losing them that I never love them fully.” Joseph let out a shaky sigh. “It doesn't mean I love you any less. But I have to let you go.”

  Her face remained solemn and quietly inquisitive. She did not forgive, but she did not condemn. She opened her arms to him and he folded her fragile body into a hug. She felt so small. The last time he had hugged her he was only a child himself.

  When he let go Joseph felt her vanish and the cold air brushed his tear stained cheeks. He was left kneeling in front of an empty pew. He did not wipe his eyes. He pushed himself up to stand.

  He was alone in the church. Clara was no longer standing in the back watching him.

  Joseph looked around at the broken glass and uneven floorboards.

  He had to choose. This life, or the one with Warren. This broken church or the one filled with life and love.

  Joseph walked down the center aisle and out of the church, down the rickety old stairs and into the night. The cold air hit his lungs like only a deep night in January could. For a moment Joseph feared he had lost everything.

  But when he turned back he saw the beautiful, angelic church, her stained glass windows brightly lit with all the colors of the earth.

  Joseph gave into the trembling of his knees, falling down onto the ground.

  He was free.

  *

  Joseph slipped back into the church and released the buttons to open his coat. He had sat outside long enough to dry his tears and get himself back together. He felt new. Strong. Needed.

  Several angels were milling about doing things. Apparently some angels didn’t need to sleep, but they attended their tasks quietly to be considerate of those who did.

  A few had bedded down for the night. As Joseph approached their corner he saw Leona-Pearl was fast asleep in her desk drawer crib.

  Warren saw him and he stood, walking up to meet him. He wrapped his arms around Joseph and Joseph returned the gesture, full of gratitude.

  “There you are,” Warren said, brushing the icy hair from Joseph’s forehead. “I was worried you were going to freeze out there.”

  “I got caught up talking with Sophie. She was telling me about some of the communities where some angels go to live when they come to earth.”

  “I was thinking about that, you know, for us to go when we leave here,” Warren said. “It would be a much easier trip for Leona than going back to California. We would have lots of support from other angels. I could estab
lish a business and save money. And it would be peaceful. Angels get along much better in small towns than humans do.”

  “It sounds wonderful,” Joseph agreed.

  “Will you come with us?” Warren asked, voice tinged with hope and love. “We can… raise a family… together.”

  Joseph hesitated. “Warren. I… don’t think I can go with you.”

  Warren’s body immediately tensed. “What? Why not?”

  “Just… not until I do something,” Joseph said, voice trembling.

  “Oh. Well. What is that?” Warren asked. “We can wait for you.”

  Joseph pushed Warren away as gently as he could until there was space between them. A frown darkened Warren’s features and Joseph knew it was because Warren could sense his rising anxiety but he didn’t know why.

  “Joseph,” he said, stern and concerned. “What’s wrong? Why are you scared?”

  Just do it, already, Joseph commanded himself.

  “I need to ask you something,” Joseph said.

  “Anything,” Warren breathed.

  Joseph reached out to take Warren’s hands in his and dropped to one knee on the sacred wooden floor beneath them.

  “Warren Harting. Will you marry me?”

  The reality of the setup and the question filtered over Warren and Joseph wasn’t on the floor for long.

  With a strength Warren hadn’t shown before, he brought Joseph up and pressed a kiss to his lips, lifting Joseph completely off his feet.

  When Joseph landed again, he managed, “Is… that a yes?”

  “Yes,” Warren said. “Yes.”

  Joseph grinned. “You know, I can’t minister my own wedding. Is there anyone here who can?”

  Warren just smiled and Joseph jumped when every single person in the church who wasn’t asleep raised their hand.

  “Any angel can sanctify a marriage,” Warren said. “We won’t have a marriage certificate here on earth, but it’ll be legitimate in Heaven.”

  Joseph pressed the bridge of his nose to Warren’s. “Well. That’s certainly good enough for me.”

  Chapter Eleven