The Angel Alejandro

by Alistair Cross

  “May I use your bathroom?”

  “Of course. It’s just down the hall.” Nick stood and looked at his watch. “I’ll get the coals started. It won’t be long before the others arrive.”

  * * *

  In the bathroom, Beverly turned on the faucet. There was something odd about the atmosphere in the house. There seemed to be two things happening at once. First, it felt too quiet, as if it were a dead battery. Yet there was something else that didn’t feel dead at all, something that was straining to come through. She stared into the cracked mirror. “Is anyone here?”

  Nothing happened.

  She sighed and soaped her hands. It was flower-scented which she found oddly charming - she couldn’t imagine the big masculine chief of police washing with lavender and chamomile soap - nor could she get used to seeing him in the eye-searing red and yellow sweater he wore again today. The guy had a way of zigging when Beverly was sure he’d zag. She couldn’t help but like that.

  She shut the water off, looked up to check her makeup, and her breath caught. The glass wavered like the beginning of a bad dream sequence in an old movie. When it stopped, Beverly’s feet felt oddly displaced, as if she’d stepped off an elevator.

  Writing began to form on the mirror.

  HELP…

  Reluctantly, she touched the glass. The word began to dissolve and as it evaporated, she hoped the others would be willing to do a séance … It needed to happen even more than she’d realized.

  * * *

  Nick had left Beverly to wander the house and do her thing while he went to check on the coals. When he’d come back in, Tom Wainwright was at the door.

  “How was church, Padre? Rescue any sinners?”

  “Afraid not.” He looked distraught as he walked in. “Frankly, I was afraid the sinners were going to get me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  In low tones Tom told him - and in surprisingly graphic detail - about the sexual antics during the morning service.

  “You’re not pulling my leg, are you?”

  “Wish I were.” Tom put a sixer of Coke in the fridge. “It feels like Prominence is a town possessed. All these deaths, the violence, the perversions.” He eyed Nick. “This has always been a quiet, rather dull, little burg.”

  Beverly appeared. “Tom, nice to see you again.” They hugged.

  “I need to check the coals,” Nick said. “They’re almost ready.”

  “I’ll do that for you,” Tom said. “Care to join me, young lady?”

  “Sure.” Beverly and Tom headed for the sliding glass door to the patio.

  She seemed eager to get out of the house and Nick didn’t blame her. He hoped her mojo or voodoo or whatever it was would make it easier for him to stay here. The Gimples’ attorney had already told him that when the estate was settled, he could keep renting or maybe buy the place. He wasn’t sure he wanted to do either.

  When the doorbell rang again, he was pleased it didn’t make him jump.

  “Come in,” he said to Madison and Alejandro.

  Madison held out a dish. “Dessert,” she said. “Peanut butter cookies.”

  “They are very delicious,” said Alejandro. “She puts honey in them.” He stared at Nick’s sweater, his eyes bright. They seemed especially silver today, and Nick thought about the man from his childhood - the one with gold eyes. It has to be a coincidence.

  Madison nudged Alejandro, but it didn’t stop his staring.

  Nick led them into the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink? The grill’s going but it’ll be a few minutes before it’s ready.”

  “No, thank you,” said Madison. “Has Father Tom arrived? I’d really like to see him.”

  Nick nodded at the back door. “He’s out there with Beverly.”

  “Great. Alejandro, do you-”

  Alejandro remained transfixed by Nick’s sweater.

  “Sorry,” Madison said to Nick. “He really likes your sweater. Can I ask where you bought it?”

  Nick smiled. “It was a gift from a friend of mine in Crimson Cove.” He turned to Alejandro. “I can certainly have him, er, her knit one for you.”

  “Really?” His silvery eyes brightened.

  “Of course. Did you have any particular colors in mind?”

  Alejandro shook his head. “I like many colors as long as they are bright. Especially purple.”

  Nick squeezed Alejandro’s shoulder. “You got it.” He looked out the back door where Madison was talking animatedly with Tom and Beverly. It was nice to see everyone smiling and getting along. Even Beverly was laughing. It was a sound that warmed Nick’s heart. Then his mood darkened, thinking of her request for a séance. He hoped they’d go for it, especially the padre. This is going to be awkward.

  “Well,” said Nick. “Shall we join the others out-”

  A sudden rumble underfoot had Nick clutching the counter.

  Alejandro’s eyes grew wide.

  Looking outside, Nick realized it hadn’t been an earthquake - the others hadn’t seen or felt a thing. He turned back to Alejandro. “Was that you?”

  Alejandro shook his head. “He is very close.”

  Nick’s blood turned thick. “Who?”

  The young man blinked at him. “I do not know.”

  Come When I Call You

  After eating, Beverly closed the drapes over the sliders in the dining and living rooms. Having heard all of Nick’s stories about the house, and Beverly’s theories about them, his guests had agreed - reluctantly - to the séance.

  “Please, everyone, be seated.” Beverly nodded at the dining room table. They sat, looking uncertain.

  “Have any of you ever attended a séance before?”

  All shook their heads.

  Beverly looked around the table. “We should touch hands. That increases the energy flow, which will help us make contact. If the circle is broken, it might halt our communication with the entity.”

  Madison spoke. “Will you be in any danger if the circle is broken?”

  “None at all. That only happens in the movies.”

  “So, what can we expect?” the padre asked.

  “Very likely nothing. If we do make contact, the entity may give me words or images to pass along.”

  Nick thought he’d never see the day when he joined in a séance - but then again, he never thought he’d see a lot of things he’d recently witnessed. Just keep an open mind. “So ... if we make contact,” he said, “do we, uh, ask it questions?”

  “If you feel you should, yes. Just trust your instincts. It’s best not to put too much thought into it.” Beverly put her hands on the table, fingers spread. The rest did the same, touching fingertips.

  Nick felt a soft zap of static electricity when he touched Alejandro’s hand, and oddly, it relaxed him, though he focused on the warmth and softness of Beverly’s hand. He still felt ridiculous, and wondered if the others did, too.

  “Nick,” Beverly said. “It’s not ridiculous. Don’t feel that way.”

  Nick’s jaw fell open.

  Beverly grinned. “That was a guess, don’t worry. Now, everyone, take a deep breath, hold and release. Yes, just like that. Don’t be nervous.”

  Nick looked around. Beverly had closed her eyes, as had the padre. Madison seemed skeptical while Alejandro took everything in, his excitement obvious. Their eyes met and Alejandro beamed at him. Nick smiled back.

  Beverly began speaking. “We’re here to talk with the entity who is trying to communicate with Nick Grayson.”

  The room remained silent.

  “Are you here?” Beverly paused.

  In the silence came a light squeaking - like an ungreased wheel slowly turning. Nick opened an eye and realized it came from Father Tom, whose nose was whistling softly. Nick tried not to chuckle.

  “Please talk to us. Are you the one who healed Nick when he was a child? ” Beverly repeated her words several times, and nothing happened.

  “You’ve been trying very hard to
make contact,” she said. “Now’s your chance.”

  And still, nothing happened.

  Just as Nick was about to suggest they call it off, he noticed that the room felt colder, as if someone had opened a window. There was a quiet sense of something electrical in the air - like a powerful storm brewing, and maybe there was. Either way, the hair on the back of his neck rose and when he looked up, he saw that Madison appeared uneasy as well. Alejandro, on the other hand, looked joyous, his eyes turning as silver as dimes, his fingers heating until they were uncomfortable on Nick’s skin.

  “He’s here,” said Beverly, just above a whisper, then louder, “Welcome. What is your name?” She paused, listening, then said, “I don’t understand. Please speak English.”

  Alejandro mumbled something in a foreign language, then said to Beverly, “He did not realize he was not thinking English to you. He is sorry. He is asking permission to speak through you.” He sounded excited.

  Madison stared at Alejandro, her surprise evident.

  Nick studied each of their faces for signs that this was a joke. If it is, everyone’s in on it but me. And it seemed unlikely that the padre would be part of such an elaborate hoax.

  “Yes, you may enter me,” Beverly said. “I welcome you.”

  The room chilled further then a ringing hit Nick’s ears as a phantom breeze circled the room. Suddenly, Beverly half-rose from her chair then sat down hard. The wind and ringing abruptly stopped but the air around Beverly seemed to waver, like heat waves on a desert highway.

  What the hell? The others looked as confused as Nick felt.

  Beverly opened her eyes and they glowed gold - bright, shining, unreal gold.

  It’s him! Nick gasped. “I thought I imagined you.”

  Beverly’s head swiveled to face him. “You were not destined to die that day, Nicholas.” The voice was masculine and deep. Nick didn’t see how Beverly could possibly fake it. Then again … He shook his head. “No. This isn’t real.”

  “Your mother called for my help that day - just as Madison O’Riley called for help.” Beverly turned to Alejandro. “My brother’s help.” She spoke again, deep and unpronounceable in the foreign tongue, the impractically gold eyes glowing.

  “Brother. Call me Alejandro.”

  “Alejandro,” said the deep voice. “You were lost.”

  “Nathaniel,” Alejandro replied. “You are Nathaniel. I forgot you for a time. It is good to hear your voice again, and to see your eyes.”

  The air wavering around Beverly seemed to solidify and then Nick clearly saw a man superimposed over her face. He was handsome with long dark auburn hair, a strong jaw and high cheekbones.

  “I know you.” Nick couldn’t believe his eyes - or the memories that rushed back to him. “I saw you in the hospital after the accident. You touched my chest.” His voice came out strained and thin. “You healed me.”

  “Yes. But still, you do not believe.”

  “That’s because … this isn’t possible.” Nick shook his head.

  “Well, we can’t all be imagining this,” Thomas said softly.

  Or I’m dreaming, Nick’s thoughts raced out of control. Or I might have lost my mind, or-

  “My brother,” Alejandro said. “I know you but I do not know what you are. Help me understand.”

  “I am what we both are. We are often called angels in this age.”

  Madison gasped.

  Nick’s heart stuttered.

  The face over Beverly’s turned to him. “You might call me your guardian angel, Nicholas. Do not judge so quickly.”

  Nick was speechless. The doctors had told him and his aunt that he should have been dead. You couldn’t live through a nicked aorta.

  “Alejandro?” Madison asked. “Are you my guardian angel?”

  “I do not know anything except that I am Alejandro.”

  “Is he?” Madison asked Beverly-Nathaniel.

  “He was passing by when he heard your call. He saved you but lost his memory when he crossed over.”

  “Why did he cross over?” asked the padre, who seemed torn between fear and fascination.

  “It was not intentional,” said Beverly-Nathaniel, turning gold eyes to Madison. “You died in that pond and took hold of my brother as you inhaled the first breath of new life. This brought him to your realm, and since he did not come over of his own free will, the memories of his previous existence were erased. Just as your memories are erased once you are born to this world.”

  Madison’s eyes brimmed with tears. “I’m so sorry,” she said to Alejandro. “If I hadn’t been trying to fix the roof in the rain, I-”

  “There are no mistakes,” Beverly-Nathaniel said. “Only that which appears accidental.”

  “But if I hadn’t-”

  “You do not understand. You cannot.” Beverly-Nathaniel continued, “With his memory, my brother also lost his natural appearance. You, Madison, were the first to lay eyes on him and so he became what you most desired to see. He will remain that way as long as he stays in your physical world, which cannot be for much longer now.”

  “What do you mean?” Madison looked stricken.

  “We must move quickly. There is danger.”

  “He has to leave?”

  “Yes. Once we complete what must be done, he will return to his natural realm. It is the way of things.”

  Tears spilled from Madison’s eyes.

  Nick glanced at Alejandro and his silvery gaze, pinned on Madison, dulled to gray. There was no light in them now and tears filled his eyes as well.

  Nick’s heart cracked a little.

  “You said there is danger,” said Tom. “And that something needs to be completed?”

  Beverly-Nathaniel spoke to Alejandro. “The others - our counterparts - they are here and they want your soul, Brother. They have been corrupting the town with their disease, and they must be stopped.”

  “Disease?” asked Nick. “What disease?”

  Beverly-Nathaniel cut gold eyes to Nick, sending a cold chill over him. “It moves like a virus. Its name is Greed because it is hungry. It is voracious. It is spread from person to person through lustful physical encounters. And there is something else. There are certain relics, gifts which, when given, take full control of the recipient’s mind, compelling them to do Darkness’ bidding.”

  “Gifts?” asked Tom.

  “Yes. Most often jewelry, something one wears on their body. But the items are cursed.”

  “Dette’s moon necklace!” said Madison. “It was given to her by one of the women from the club.”

  “This has enabled Darkness to control her. To receive such a gift is to be at the full command of Darkness.”

  Alejandro swallowed audibly. “I have a necklace. It was worn by Lena Harding.”

  “What?” asked Madison.

  “You must bury it in hallowed ground. Give it to the priest.” Beverly-Nathaniel faced Tom. “Priest, bury the relic, not at St. Agatha’s but at St. John’s. Do it quickly.”

  Tom nodded, looking dazed. “I shall.”

  “Dette’s been trying to seduce Alejandro,” said Madison. “Has the necklace been compelling her?”

  “Yes.”

  “But why?”

  “To corrupt him, to stain and eventually collect his soul.” Beverly-Nathaniel smiled at Alejandro. “The soul of an angel is worth the souls of a million mortals. Once they discovered you were here, and that you didn’t know what you were, they came.”

  “Your dark counterparts,” said Tom. “What are they exactly?”

  “You would call them demons.”

  “Demons?” Madison sat forward. “Then why didn’t they just take Alejandro?”

  Nick wondered the same thing.

  “They cannot. All human beings have been given free will - and nothing, not even Darkness, can defy that. Mortals must give their souls over willingly.” There was a pause as the face flickered. “And because he inhabits a mortal body, Alejandro is human until the body is
destroyed or until he chooses to leave it.”

  “The suicides and murders,” said Nick. “They’re part of it?”

  “Yes and no. Suicide is often committed by those who have lost their dreams. While these demons have been spreading their disease, their leader, who calls himself Gremory Jones, has been reaping dreams. He gives a person what they believe they want most - all empty possessions - in return for their dreams, their highest aspirations. And a human without dreams becomes an empty shell … a walking corpse. Eventually, most who have had their dreams taken from them find solace only in death.” He paused. “Gremory Jones is the Dream Reaper, and he is as ancient as we are.”

  Nick’s voice quivered. “How long have you existed?”

  A soft smile. “Since the dawn of time.”

  “The voices I hear, the whispers,” Alejandro said. “What are they? They hurt.”

  “They are prayers, pleas for help. They cause you pain because this physical body cannot contain the power you have at your command. No mortal body is strong enough to hold our kind. You must return to us. To remain as you are will soon destroy you.”

  “Stop.” As Madison pulled her hand away, the face over Beverly’s flickered and went out, like a lamp coming unplugged. “Hold on a minute. I need a break.” Her eyes misted with tears.

  * * *

  They sat in silence, each staring blankly, each undoubtedly lost in his or her own thoughts.

  Nick watched Madison. The pain she radiated was almost tangible. Alejandro had his hand clamped over hers, but neither spoke.

  A sudden jangle startled them.

  “Shit!” Madison grappled for her phone and looked at it. “I’m so sorry. I need to take this.” She stood and walked outside.

  Nick was grateful for the intrusion and got the distinct impression Madison was, too. He looked at Beverly; she appeared worn out. “Are you okay?”

  She waved a hand dismissively. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.” She smiled softly. “It’s normal.”

  “What about you, Padre?”

  Tom, too, looked exhausted. He opened his mouth to speak when Madison burst through the back door.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I have to go out for a few minutes. The shopkeeper next door to the rock shop locked himself out. His keys are inside and he’s stuck. I’ve got a spare and I need to go let him in.”