“Please,” Masao spoke up from their circle. “What does this mean for us as we wait to see which door speaks to our hearts, that we may enter therein? For we have come, united, thus far. You yourself just said, “do two walk together,” and that we are to “fellowship with one another,” yet, that our true fellowship is with God Almighty. Are these so opposing to each other that we may not all walk through the same door and find what we would, as He envisions and has ordained?”
“Ah, this is the question,” Elihu spoke up, opening his hands for them to see the parcel within. It glittered as gold in the rainbow-colored light around them, and it was flat, like an envelope. Upon it was a set of seals, seven in all. Each seal was a variation of red, from pale to deep, or so Edward surmised, in the lighting that held them.
And did it matter the shade?
The number, surely, was an easy thing to deduce, seven being the perfect one. But the color? What all could red stand for, and did different shades have different meanings, or were they all the same?
Surely there was some significance, but he couldn’t gauge one on the spot. Perhaps in time, he would come to comprehend what he was now seeing, but for now, he simply wanted to hear what was being said; to gain some semblance of understanding of what they were here for. What they were to do.
“Each of your hearts has decided already on a door, whether or not you realize this,” he continued. “And there is a name on each of the keys within this envelope. They are named and numbered, that your decisions are not swayed by others. The seals are broken only when all decisions are finally made up; fully, from your hearts. This is time to say goodbye, in the event you have chosen different avenues toward the Father and, in His good grace, He gives you these moments.”
“But quickly now, lest your hearts be swayed toward something aside from the truth calling to you,” Arieh – or was it Ari’el – said once more. His silvery hair shone bright, and as Edward looked from angel to angel, he resolved within himself to hold to his family.
That was his decision.
If they had chosen different doors, so be it, but Heaven would have to tear him from his loved ones if they were not in one accord. They were precious, beyond belief, to him.
But isn’t God to be more loved, more revered and more important to us, even than our families, he thought to himself, a hedge of consternation hitting him like a blade to the gut.
If that were the case, and he was still trying to hold to his loved ones from Earth, would he ever really make it as a child of the Most High God? Had he been fooling himself that God took precedence, when, really, people did? Was he really that out of tune with his own heart and mind? With his very life?
He would have to choose what God wanted, even if it wasn’t where Paloma, where Masao, Justice, or Jason chose. Would they all not lead to the Father, after all? Would they not see each other again, anyway? Otherwise, why the test and reassurance all at once?
For they all believed Christ was Savior, and the life, death, and resurrection He pledged and lived was true. What else could be more true to his heart? To his life?
Elihu smiled, looking each of them in the eye. Edward could feel the intensity of his gaze piercing through him, and his belly quivered a moment.
“Now is the time,” he heard the angel tell him softly, as in a whisper. “Now is the time to make a final decision, and to trust the Father, Who is forever holy with the outcome. You cannot live in the past; in the hurt; in relationships of no consequence, or of little consequence in the light of Heaven. You cannot even dwell in those most cherished, for your Father knows what you need. He will not fail you.”
At this, Edward sensed a surge of joy rising within him again.
He could do this.
He could.
Even though it broke his heart, he could and he would. Because it would break his heart even more not to.
Ten
Justice felt a tingle run down his spine as the angels proceeded, one by one, to break open the seals on the envelope. As each cracked, something like the sound of a lone dove came forth from the envelope and the seal shattered into nothingness, falling away as pieces of light, shimmering like glitter to the ground beneath them.
Two… Three… four, he counted to himself as they were broken, each by a different angel, with a prayer said in between the breakings.
Had he ever been so nervous, and yet, so calm at the same time? It was as if he were being pulled apart by conflicting emotions of peace and fear, and there was no stopping it. He wanted to trust what was happening; trust they would all see each other again; that they’d see the rest of their family again in this life, and not just in the eternity of the heavenly realms, but what if they didn’t?
Had they walked from life into death and not even known it, in order to find the eternal life promised in the Word of God?
Or were they truly alive still?
And how long had they been here, in this place? Were they inside of time still, or outside of it? And how was their family back home coping?
Mark, for one, certainly hadn’t looked good. When Jason had called him, Justice had had a clear picture of the holographic Mark, and he had looked wan, pale, and ill.
Hopefully all was well, and they could move forward without worries, so why was there this sense that Mark was in trouble, and they could do something to help him?
One twin angel opened the fifth after his prayer, and finally, after the second twin angel prayed, the sixth seal was broken, falling away, and the sound was no longer a calm dove but a roaring lion, startling him. And with that, the envelope was nearly unsealed. Arieh – or was it Ari’el – handed it to Lemuel, and the darkest seal was all that remained, at the outer right edge.
He said a quick, silent prayer as Lemuel broke the last, darkest seal to the sound of yet another, louder roar, and then handed it back to Elihu, who opened the envelope. As the angel poured the contents out into his open palm, from left to right, Justice paused his breathing.
In his hand lay a single key.
But if there were five of them, then what…?
How was it that there was a single key, if they’d each chosen on their own?
“You have all chosen the same door, in your hearts,” Lemuel announced. “The worries have been unfounded, though we know that you are flesh and blood; human. Worry is of the flesh, but faith is of the Father. Doubt and fear are of humanity, but faith is of God, and He has been faithful to your decision.”
Something akin to fire felt as if it was rushing around inside of Justice, and he startled at it, thoughts of his loved ones flooding in on him. Even of Mark, who he didn’t always get along with but whom he cared about.
From the time he’d set foot inside the mirror image; inside the stairwell reflected into the fence that the angels’ mirror had created, he’d known his life would change drastically. And yet, how had it taken until this moment to really put into perspective just how different things would be after this was all said and done?
Either they would go back much altered, or never step foot on the earth again, and he had no idea which would be the case. And as much as he loved his family, did he care which at the moment? They were about to be face to face with the One Who had created them; the One Who had died for them, and risen for them. With the only One Who could ever be Savior and Lord of all.
But who would hold the key? Who would turn it in the lock of the door ahead? They had all chosen the right side door, which, ironically, was the least decorative.
Or perhaps that’s what drew them.
The center door – which seemed to be made of gold - was bejeweled from top to bottom with what seemed a million pieces of silvery diamonds and emeralds and rubies. The door to the left, with jewels that resembled stars scattered across it, intermixed with the mahogany of the main door itself. But the door on the right?
It was a simple pine door with a single sapphire just above its knob and rougher cut wood. While the others were masterfully carved,
this one seemed just a touch… imperfect. Just a mite closer to what Justice would guess Jesus, Himself might have once carved at the side of Joseph.
Just thinking of it made him shiver once more as Elihu called them to prayer. Bowing his head with the others, he heard the words of the angel, as though from a faraway land, over the seas and through a forest of trees.
Was the distance within him, or outside of him?
“Holy and Mighty One,” the angel began, “You are awesome and worthy of all praise, and we now come before You dedicating this key and all it represents unto You. Be with the ones these, Your children, have left behind, and bring peace, grace, and healing where You see fit even as we usher forward these five. May Your goodness overpower them, and Your grace be upon them. Touch their hearts in ways unimaginable as they take even more steps of faith into the realms of Your choosing, in the name of Your Son, Jesus, the very Lamb of God, the Lion upon the Throne, the Prince of Peace and Star of David, amen.”
“Amen,” Justice mumbled humbly along with the others, tears streaming down his face for the third time since moving into the place where they now stood.
“It is time,” Elihu continued. And then, turning to the twin angels, he handed the key over to the one on the left, who then handed it to the one on the right and on around it passed from one angel to another, wordlessly, before Neriah handed it to Justice.
“Am I who opens the door?”
“The gate will be unlocked in its time, by the one whose heart knows they are to open it. And it is time,” the angel responded, the hum of his wings intensifying every moment he spoke. “Pass the key along until it speaks, for it has a voice all its own. A voice that pierces the heart with its cry, but only to one set of ears shall it speak.”
Huh?
That made no sense, but, with a shrug, he passed the key to Jason, and Jason, to Paloma, who paused a few moments before passing it to Edward, and then, he, to Masao. And Masao held the key several long moments before moving toward the gate, tentative at first, and them with longer strides, even in the small space they occupied, and then, gently, moved the key toward the door.
“Paloma,” he heard Masao whisper, his face toward the floor. “This is not for me to do, Niece. I believe the key spoke to your heart more than my own. Please,” he continued, turning his face toward the group again. “Please, if this is so, come and open the gate, for it is your call, and not my own.”
And for several long moments, the pair looked into each other’s eyes, nobody moving but the angels’ – and then, only the wings at their feet.
And then, as if in slow motion, Paloma released her husband and brothers’ hands and stepped forward.
“This is so, Uncle,” she said. “I wasn’t certain, but you have confirmed the sense that came over me. The key has spoken, and the door beckons to be opened with loving care.”
And she softly stepped, quietly, as if she thought the floor would break underneath her, until she was side by side with Masao. The juxtaposition of the two of them side by side startled Justice a moment – the red-haired, plump beauty and the thin little Japanese man who, both part of his family – he would never have met were it not for attending the trial of Arthur Reynolds; if he’d never met Mark Jeffries, who had been a witness to the man’s misdeeds, even if indirectly.
And as Paloma took the key from Masao’s hand, tears fell from her eyes, and she embraced him a moment. Then, as if she had resolved within her heart to get the task finished, she moved the key toward the gate door and slid it home.
Justice heard it click as the door unlocked and then, moments later, the door swung open.
And what he saw took his breath away.
Again.
Eleven
Vancouver, Washington… May 10, 2025
“Where am I,” Mark asked as he looked around – his family was nowhere in sight, and he was being wheeled down a hallway that stank of antiseptic. “Please tell me I’m not in the hospital,” he said.
Even to himself the words sounded garbled.
Would the men wheeling him around have any idea what he was saying?
“Ah, you’re awake,” a large Hispanic man to his left said. “You’ve had a seizure, Sir. I’m glad to see you’ve come around. To your right are Juan and Ivan. I am Jose, and behind me, this is Martin. You’re in good hands. And your family is in the waiting room. We’re taking you for some tests, and then you’ll be able to visit with them if you’re still up to it.”
“But where am I,” Mark asked again, his words sounding even more garbled. “What hospital?”
As they turned a corner and headed into an elevator, one of the men on his right – probably Juan, from the sound of his voice – told him he was at Southwest Washington Medical Center Peace Health.
Well, at least its somewhere I’ve heard of, even if I’ve never been a patient here, he thought. But what’s happening with Justice and Jason, with Edward and Paloma and Masao? Has anyone stayed behind to make sure they come back? And where did they go, to begin with? That was just…
He tried to get his mind off the images that kept playing over and over in his mind like a two-beat mariachi song that never seemed to end. With the technology nowadays, they could see the images he thought of during some tests, and that sure wouldn’t do.
So, what to think of?
Certainly not the phone call he got from who knows where, from Jason. That would only exacerbate things, just as thinking of the portal would. Or whatever that had been.
The elevator dinged as it came to a stop and the men moved his bed out and to the left. After several paces – including waiting for someone in a wheelchair to go by – they wheeled him into a room full of machines, half of which he could only guess the purpose for, at least from the angle he was seeing them from.
“What have we here,” the technician that greeted them – introducing himself as Charles Spyres – asked as Jose handed him Mark’s chart. In his peripheral vision, he could see the man raise an eyebrow momentarily before addressing him directly.
“So from what your wife said, this is the first known seizure you’ve had in many years. is this correct,” the man asked, his large eyes intently observing him.
Mark tried to nod, but wasn’t sure if the movement was perceptible enough to be understood as such.
Just as when he’d been a child, his limbs – his whole body, really – felt like lead.
Juan released the other men to leave and stayed behind to help answer questions before Charles – a short, broad man with thinning blonde hair styled in a bad comb over and deep-set grey eyes – got to work. Five tests later –an MRI, an EEG, and a CT, along with two tests that had only been on the market for the last ten years that he really knew nothing about, and all of which Mark dreaded – the man smiled at him and told him he would be moved to his room shortly.
Twenty minutes later, he was finally able to see his family – Eugenie, Majesta, and the Stuart children all surrounding him in concern, and then, there was Rose.
Rose, who had already seen and been through so much, some of it by his own hand and voice. Rose, who was still struggling to overcome her addictions in order to have a healthy baby despite being most of the way through her pregnancy. Rose, who had tested his patience more than once and brought him to thinking of people other than himself during times when he’d wanted to be selfish.
Rose, who had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, in spite of all she had come through.
Did she know what had happened? Had she been informed of the newest developments?
He looked into her eyes when she moved closer, hesitantly, and she was smiling.
What was the smile for? Was it sympathy, or gloating?
He studied her face as well as he could even as lethargy tried to overtake him again.
No. She wasn’t there to gloat. She seemed to actually care about what was happening with him, and that was a bigger thing than she could ever know. It showed she really had forgiven him, so
mehow, some way, in spite of how he’d treated her more than once over the years.
As his eyes drooped shut, he heard her whispering something. Though he could not make out the words, they gave him peace.
And when he awakened again, she was gone.
Twelve
Meridian, Mississippi… May 10, 2025
Calico finished washing the dishes as she heard the Imagebar blink back to life again for another call coming in.
Three hours after waking, and Romeo was being bombarded still. The phone calls had been varied, but all necessary, given he’d taken three days off to help make sure that Clementina had all she needed for her continued recovery. Some of the calls had included her, others did not, and she was alright with that.
It was stressful enough hearing the bits of conversation she had had thus far, and trying to keep Angus occupied while still getting her housework done wasn’t an easy task these days. His energy levels had been so low, he’d wanted to just lay on the couch all the day before, much to her chagrin.
But who was she to argue with how his body was feeling? Who was she to tell him that, no, he had to be up and about when he felt miserable? Between diabetes and asthma, of course he had the potential to feel lousy sometimes.
They’d gone to the doctors twice since traveling to the hospital with Clementina, now that he was used to it by association. That sense of unknowing had been the biggest reason it had taken so long to get him in, other than waiting for their paperwork to be transferred.
But what now, with her brother and sister-in-law missing? Had they come searching for her family again, or had something happened to them that was untoward? If they hadn’t been seen here, nor in California… if they hadn’t been seen back in Oregon or Washington, where could they have gone?
The Angels' Mirror Pack 2: Books Four through Seven Page 67
