Archangel Crusader

by Vijaya Schartz

  The other boy remained out of sight. Mentally scanning for signs of human life, Michael took the motorcycle above the muddy current. He sensed the younger child, deep under but alive still. Michael hovered at the same speed, gauging the depths, and by sheer mental strength pulled up the struggling kid from the deep cold hole toward the light of the shining sun. The boy was propelled out of the water like a big, jumping fish. Michael caught him in mid-air and held the coughing boy in front of him as he made for the shore with the precious cargo.

  To avoid the onlookers, Michael headed upriver, landing in the secluded spot where Clara waited, in awe. For once, the little girl had nothing to say.

  The boys were fine and glad to be alive. Michael mentally altered their memory of the event. As far as they knew now, they had been rescued by a stranger on a Jet Ski.

  After that, fishing seemed out of the question. Mentally exhausted, Michael sat against a tree to meditate, hoping to recuperate while Clara took a nap in the shade. When she woke up, the little girl insisted on going to Grandma's.

  Michael felt uncomfortable about facing Maria after all these years. Although there was no danger now, the hatred for his stepfather was still very much alive. Nevertheless, it was impossible to refuse Clara and, as Dave had said, Michael would have to face his mother sooner or later. He had known this all along. Deep down inside, he desperately wanted to make peace with Maria, but could he?

  Michael and Clara picked up their gear and left the riverside. Riding first in the direction of town, they turned south on a little county road Michael remembered well. He slowed down, unconsciously trying to delay the dreaded confrontation. At the sight of the old chicken farm through a clearing in the cluster of birch trees around the bend in the road, memories rushed back. The place had not changed much. It looked old and decrepit, the hen house abandoned. The fence was new though, and pink and purple hydrangea grew in the shade in front of the old house. The front door stood wide open, a dirty screen door obscuring the dark interior.

  Michael stopped the Harley and helped Clara off the warm machine. The girl immediately ran to the screen door and opened it, yelling, "Grandma, Grandma, Uncle Michael is here!"

  The figure that appeared then in the black frame of the open doorway hesitated then froze. Maria Tanner had aged a little, the jet-black hair now short and streaked with gray. She looked plumper and shorter than Michael remembered, but still beautiful with copper skin and liquid brown eyes. Fine lines only added to the depth of Maria's smile. She seemed overwhelmed, wiping away tears with a small handkerchief, but Michael had learned long ago not to trust Maria's theatrical displays.

  "Mikie? I have been praying for this moment for the past eighteen years... I missed you so much... You always were my favorite, you know... My God, you've become such a handsome man." Maria hovered in the doorway, as if hoping for a kiss that didn't come.

  "Hi, Mom... How've you been?" No, she hadn't changed a bit.

  "Come in, come in, don't stand outside like that." She led the way inside.

  As his eyes adjusted to the cool darkness inside, Michael noticed that even the furniture stood exactly where it had when he left. The same musky perfume permeated the air. Michael almost felt nauseated but checked himself. He had to go through with this.

  "Sit, sit down there on the couch... Here you go... I'll get you some nice cold tea. Don't pay attention to him." Maria motioned toward a corner of the room. "He can't understand anything anymore."

  When Maria disappeared in the kitchen, Michael suddenly saw what she was referring to. In the far and darkest corner of the living room, in the same old armchair, slouched the silent shadow of a man, so frail and weak that Michael did not recognize him at first.

  Michael stood up to get a closer look. The drooling mouth gave the white face a blank expression, and the eyes did not see anything, lost in some internal nothingness. Michael trembled with rage. Not only the bastard was here, but he’d robbed Michael of his revenge. How many times had he imagined the day when he’d send his fist into the hated face.

  "Clara, would you like anything?" he heard Maria call outside. She reappeared with a tray and two tall plastic goblets of amber iced tea. "She's playing with the goat. I don't know why she likes that goat... You kids didn't like the animals on the farm very much, except maybe for that black mutt. He was run over by a car shortly after you left... Anyway, how's Jennifer. I heard so much about her. I hoped to see her, but Dave told me she's in Europe."

  "Yeah... I hope to get her here soon." As he said it, Michael fervently hoped he would succeed.

  "I'd love so much to see her. To think I have a ten-year-old granddaughter I've never seen."

  "What happened to him?" Michael tried to sound casual, indicating the corner where his stepfather sat.

  "Oh, him? I tend to forget about him sometimes... He just belongs with the furniture. The last stroke three years ago left him like that. The nurse takes care of him everyday. He doesn't eat much and doesn't bother me anymore. I can't say I'm sorry. Now I can live my own life, do what I please, when I please."

  "I see you didn't keep up the farm."

  "Too much work for a woman alone. Besides, your stepfather had a good insurance policy. About the only thing he did right in his life. I harassed him for years before he finally bought it though. The insurance man was a good friend of mine," she explained with a mischievous smile.

  "You still fool around at your age?"

  "You know what the good thing is about all this, though? I don't have to sneak out anymore. I could do it right in front of his nose, and he wouldn't know the difference."

  The righteousness in Maria's tone shocked Michael, who felt almost sorry for the bastard in the chair. After making life a living hell for those who could have loved him, the abuser ended up sick and forsaken at the end of a useless life. Michael looked at his mother. "Well, I meant to tell you I recently met someone who knew you a long time ago."

  "An ex-boyfriend?" Maria sounded excited, eyes sparkling.

  "My father."

  "What? Don't play with me Mikie... Your conception was a mystery from the start. I could never figure it out myself." She paused before adding, "I never told you this before, but now you might understand better. The only thing I can think of is that day when I went to the sacred cave."

  "A cave?"

  "Yes, on the reservation. I knew the place inhabited by powerful spirits. White Eagle had told me so, and at the time I could feel it too. So I went there, one night, unnoticed. I hoped the spirits would understand and grant me the special son I wanted for myself. I was very young, a virgin, and I didn't care for any of the men on the reservation. Beside, I was taboo."

  "Taboo?"

  Maria hesitated. "I had just killed a man... In self-defense... He was drunk and tried to force himself on me. I took an empty bottle by the neck, broke it against the bar, and with all my strength I stabbed his chest with the jagged edges. Blood splattered everywhere. The man looked at the red stain on his shirt as if surprised, then he collapsed. A narrow shard had pierced his heart. He died on the spot." There was no remorse in Maria's voice.

  "Didn't the reservation police arrest you?"

  "No. I was under age, and it was self-defense. They didn't like the guy anyway. He was trouble. After that, I couldn't have loved any Indian man. I wanted a white man who would treat me right. I wanted to live in a nice house and have a nice car."

  "We knew that, Mom."

  "But first, I wanted a special son, one that would be like no other child, a great seer, like White Eagle. A son who would make me proud and make my miserable life worthwhile... I really believed it could work if I offered myself to the Great Spirit, but during the ritual, after I smoked the peyote, I must have passed out. Someone must have entered the cave. If I knew who it was, I would have the bastard killed for taking advantage of me like that."

  "I know who it was, Mom, but it was not a man... Not really. He gave you your wish though. Remember, you wanted a son?" M
ichael smiled.

  "I still believe in spirits, even though I go to church every Sunday, but I had enough time to think about this and I don't believe that it was a spirit. Besides, if it was a spirit, you would be a man of great wisdom, not a drifter and a runaway."

  "Did you ever see the Crusader on TV, Mom?"

  "No, but I heard about him from friends at church. They say he can perform miracles. No one knows who he is or where he comes from. And he disappeared just as mysteriously as he came. They say he’s very powerful. He could be a new Messiah. Now, that's someone I would be proud to be the mother of. You kids just brought me trouble all my life, I swear."

  Michael chuckled. He toyed an instant with the idea of confounding Maria then had a better idea. Through the window, he checked on Clara, busy with the goat outside. He would get back before she missed him.

  "The traveling spirit who visited you then is back in the neighborhood," he told his mother. "I met him. He might like to see you again. Do you think you can get back in the same kind of trance you used to as a young girl?"

  "I don't think so. It was wonderful though. It was like a dream, but I could not remember it afterwards. I felt light and happy. My spirit floated high, like on the wings of an eagle. All I remember is a beautiful blue light. I was in love with that blue light. It made me feel whole. I often tried to find that light again but never could. After a while, my attempts to call the blue light failed. Then I met my white man. I thought it was the end of my bad times, but it was only the beginning."

  "Mother, please just relax and try to remember that blue light." As he spoke, Michael summoned the powers to convince his mother to relax and visualize. Then he opened both arms to a luminous blue shaft, wide enough for both of them. As he glanced toward the corner where his stepfather sat, Michael thought he saw a glint of awareness touching the staring eyes and twisting the drooling lips. Michael dismissed it from his mind and proceeded to elevate Maria bodily along the vertical beam. She looked at him with awe and delight. "Let's go visit Dad." Michael brimmed with love.

  When they reached the spaceship Michael immediately became aware of unusual tensions aboard the vessel. The fluctuating colors pulsated more violently and in brighter shades. The previously quiet craft now echoed muffled electronic sounds of activity and conversations. Amrah did not appear immediately upon their arrival although Michael had sent a telepathic message. Something troubled the usual serenity of the place.

  Michael sat his bemused mother on an invisible chair and smiled to reassure her. Maria looked around with wonder. Her eyes shone with recognition when they gazed upon the blue being coming toward her.

  "Greetings, my son." Amrah's voice, as kind as ever, betrayed a worry Michael had never noticed before. The Blue Angel turned to the beautiful Indian woman staring at him in ecstasy.

  The alien face softened, and the tone conveyed more feelings than Michael had ever seen Amrah express. "Maria... You came back... I hoped you would... You are still very beautiful... In your heart and in your mind, as well."

  "I know you... Are you a spirit?" asked Maria.

  "No, a live being. We met many times. We used to get along well and had much happiness together. Thanks to our son, we are a family again." Amrah brought about a blue cloud that enveloped Maria.

  When the cloud dissipated, comprehension lit the woman’s face. "So, you are the one who gave me my first son?"

  "An avatar, I should say a Crusader, that is what he is called on this planet today."

  "Mikie? The Crusader? Well, I’ll be..." She looked at Michael with new respect then turned to Amrah. "What did I do to deserve such an honor? Why did you choose me? I was unworthy... There were lots of other girls."

  "Yes, but you came to me and asked..." Amrah explained melodiously. "And with convincing fervor I should say. How could I resist such innocent intensity?"

  Michael still had difficulty with the story. "You, the level-headed, rational, wise old alien fell in love with a young murderess?"

  "A beautiful, lost child, Michael, as it was meant to be. And I will love her forever."

  "Maybe that's what I couldn't explain," Michael reflected aloud. "I hated her, and I loved her at the same time... But you... You can forget all the ugliness and just love the beauty and the innocence..."

  "Look at her, my son, and tell me what you see."

  "I see a radiant woman, happier and more beautiful than I have ever seen her."

  "This is the miracle of love, Michael. This is what happens when you give unconditionally. This is what your world should be, what you can make it, if you succeed... But this may prove more difficult than I thought at first."

  "More difficult? In what way?" Suddenly, Michael's first impression when boarding the ship came back to him. "Something's happening, I can feel it... What is it?"

  "A great evil spawned from the red planet where you saw Lufriec in your dream. After millennia of inactivity, we presumed the troublesome Reptilians extinguished. Recent reports, however, describe a fleet of ominous war crafts heading this way at great speed. They originated from that planet and resemble in technology the vessels of an ancient power so great and destructive that we are not sure we can hold it off. Lufriec is the key to that power, and Krastinios is his son. Since we are not geared for destruction, you are witnessing the conversion of our energies into weapons."

  "War? How can you wage war? You taught me love and peace and now you prepare for war?" This new development shook the foundation of Michael's understanding.

  "Basic evil cannot be won over," Amrah explained. "We tried before, and it failed. All we can do at this point is destroy it or perish in the attempt. If you have to fight Krastinios, do it fast, before his father arrives. The son gets stronger as Lufriec gets closer. Besides, defeating Krastinios might weaken his father."

  "So much destruction... I still wonder where and how to fight him."

  "In the Nevada desert," Amrah said confidently. "A place called Yucca Lake."

  "I heard the name before, but why there?"

  "There lies the perfect weapon to fight your powerful foe. Get there before he can claim it."

  "What is it?" Michael asked.

  "You will see..." Amrah answered mysteriously.

  Michael shivered, thinking of Jennifer and Tori. "I better get back down there now."

  Maria had quietly come closer and stood next to the Blue Angel, a blissful look on her face. Michael bent to kiss her cheek.

  Amrah turned to Michael. "Take care of yourself, my son. Leave Maria to me, I will protect her."

  "I know you will. Wish me luck, Father."

  "Luck has little to do with it, Son. I wish you courage."

  The look of compassion in the blue alien eyes touched Michael and, forgetting all previous restraints, he stepped forth to embrace the Blue Angel, feeling the need for physical contact. The tide of warmth and love took him by surprise, but Michael held on tight, letting hot tears flow freely. When they disengaged, they waved goodbye, as any loving father, mother, and son would, knowing they might never see each other again.

  *****

  Back at Maria’s house, Michael considered the paralyzed body in the chair. He felt some pity for the helpless son-of-a-bitch who had caused him so much pain. But the man had hurt enough people. At least, now, he was harmless.

  Leaving his crippled stepfather in the nurse’s care, Michael collected Clara outside.

  “Where did Grandma go?” Clara asked.

  “She’s visiting an old friend in heaven, but she’ll be back.”

  Clara looked at Michael dubiously then laughed. “Can she do that?”

  “You’d be surprised." Michael smiled mysteriously.

  Dark clouds gathered strength and the wind picked up as he drove back to Dave’s home. In the evening sky, a storm was brewing. Soon, Krastinios would call.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tori sat at a round table with a white tablecloth. The golden light of the morning sun danced through the delicate wh
ite lace of the curtains draping the French doors of Krastinios' chateau. Across from her, Jennifer spread marmalade on hot toast. Both dressed for horseback, mother and daughter chatted gaily about enjoying the country for the weekend, such a peaceful place, yet so close to Paris.

  Outside the many small glass panes, the esplanade overlooked neat geometrical gardens with bright red, pink, white, and yellow roses. Perfectly groomed shrubbery in geometrical designs alternated with fountains and ponds, surrounded by wide alleys of packed dirt designed only for the hooves of horses. Farther, beyond the artificial lake where white and black swans glided, the French garden turned into an English park that gradually became a forest. There, reindeer, boar, jackrabbit and fox cohabited peacefully, the serenity disturbed only once in a while by a small party of horseback hunters in red coats making much noise with horns and dogs.

  Since she liked to be thought of as an animal lover, Tori had refused to have a hunt organized on her account. She did accept a morning ride around the domain, however. Jennifer, although weary of horses, agreed to come along when Tori intimated that any well-bred woman should know how to ride a horse in style.

  "Listen to this," Tori exclaimed, scanning the newspaper she held over her cup of coffee. "'Under the mounting pressure of various international ecological groups, Japan finally renounces the hunting of whales in the Pacific.' Isn't that terrific? I love it."

  "Hum..." Jennifer's response sounded less than enthusiastic.

  "And here," Tori translated further, "'The U.S. is actively negotiating with the Baltic countries to stop the genocide, while international Red Cross hospitals in the main cities treat the wounded of all ethnic groups without discrimination.'"

  "Anything about home?” Jennifer asked. “Something a little less boring?"

  "Boring? This is so interesting. Here, you may like this better. 'MacDonald's is funding a project to help save the Amazon. Florists from New York buy exotic leaves from the Indians for expensive flower arrangements. This provides some local tribes with a comfortable income, making their survival depend on the forest rather than on its conversion into ranch land."