by BoJenn
The parents jumped to their feet, running to catch up to their children. “Ma’am, please, we can’t accept,” the father spoke this time.
“Do I look like a kidnapper?”, Cat chuckled. “Please, it gets quite cold up here after dark. You shouldn’t stay out like this—the children will freeze now that the sun’s gone down.” Cat hesitated, and then looked into the father’s eyes as she coaxed, “You know, pride is sometimes harmful if you pay too much attention to yourself.”
He nodded as if to say, “Yes, I have pride; so, don’t trample my pride;” but, the mother exchanged a look with him. “We’ll come for the stew at least,” she said, decidedly.
Cat smiled. “Good! Climb into the limo. By the way, my name is Cat.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Cat,” the father said. “I’m Michael Jameson, and this is my wife, Gabby. These are our children—Hazel, and Tim.” He paused, and added, “Thanks for your help.” Cat just smiled.
She waited until they were all settled before starting the engine. She drove up the hillside to the Dubois manor, and into the circular driveway in front, where the old grand door impressively invited them in.
“This is lovely. The trees and the countryside are breathtaking,” Gabby whispered. She shared a smile with Cat, then looked to see how Hazel and Tim fared. The children had fallen asleep before they’d reached the manor.
“Come on inside,” Cat invited. “My parents died a few years ago, and the home was left to me.”
“You aren’t married?”, Gabby asked.
“No; no, I’m not. I was in love once—after high school—but no love since then. It must seem this house is a waste for only one person to have.”
“No. No, I didn’t think that at all. I just think it’s lovely and mysterious at the same time,” Gabby explained.
Michael and Gabby each carried a child inside, smiling and whispering to each other at the appearance of the lovely old manor.
“The children can rest on the couch,” Cat said. “The green velvet sofa in the den by the fireplace will be fine.” Cat then asked Michael if he knew how to start a fire in the chimney.
“Oh yes, I definitely can do that,” he said, pleased to be of help.
Cat pointed to the wood and supplies.
He gathered wood together and scraped the bottom of the old stones, clean of all lingering debris. He precisely set the wood and twigs in an orderly fashion and lit the fire with a single match.
“You’re very good at this,” Cat observed.
“Thank you. I’ve had a lot of practice,” Michael said. He looked around the den, and picked up an old book, holding it up for Cat to see. “The Book of Enoch, a very good read. You have good taste in literature. Do you mind my looking?”, he inquired.
“Not at all. Help yourself. It’s been a long time since I’ve had company.” Cat stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the den. “Gabby and I are going kitchen to prepare our meal. You can stay here and read, or join us. We’ll be right there in the kitchen,” she pointed, smiling invitingly.
“Thank you. I will stay here with Hazel and Tim, should they awaken,” he said.
“Help yourself.” Cat threw the dishcloth over her shoulder and led the way into the kitchen. Gabby followed her, a soft smile on her face. “Here is the stew I cooked yesterday evening. If no one came for dinner, I would have to throw most of it away.” Cat said this to be polite, but realized how impolite her statement sounded. “I didn’t mean that it is old wasted food; I meant that I’m happy for you to share whatever I have. Okay?”
Gabby giggled, “Yes, thank you. I understood what you meant.”
“Good; open mouth and insert foot. I do that a lot.” Cat went to the wine rack. “It’s cool tonight what about a cabernet?”
“Cabernet?”, Gabby questioned.
“Wine. How about a glass of wine?”, Cat offered.
“Wine, too?”, Gabby exclaimed.
“Of course. I couldn’t have company and not offer any wine. That would be impolite, wouldn’t it?”, Cat said, cheerfully. She took out a bottle of red wine and reached for her finest wine goblets. She decided she would make this a wonderful night for perfect strangers. “So what do you do for work?”
“Yes, I suppose I will have some,” Gabby said, smiling in thanks when the glass of red wine was set before her. “I homeschool my children, so you could say I am a teacher; but I write short stories on the side.” Gabby took a sip.
“Write? What do you write about?”, Cat asked.
“Oh, silly stuff. I write mostly daily journals about our lives struggling to make ends meet. Then, once I’m finished licking my wounds, I write fantasy. It lets me escape from the mundane existence of a plain existence,” Gabby laughed. “I was born in a middle-class family, you see; and my parents told me I was marrying down. I didn’t want to believe them. I wanted to believe God would take care of us better than when I was a child, but it’s been a struggle—so, thank you for everything. We don’t often have wine; and we certainly never drink out of such beautiful glasses.” Gabby paused. “How can we ever repay you?”
“You can’t, that’s the beauty of God’s provisions. One day He will bring to me what He has brought to you, and just when I need it the most. That is the love of God, isn’t it?” Cat smiled warmly, continuing, “And your husband, what does he do?”
“He writes songs—the music and the lyrics. He plays as a musician wherever he can. He bags groceries sometimes too. We thought coming here would inspire him; but other than you, the town isn’t too welcoming,” Gabby continued. “But, you are right. God is good. He sent us you.” She wept, thinking of how much God loved their whole family. They were being treated as royalty.
“I desperately wanted stay to in that hotel room, but I couldn’t hurt Michael’s feelings; and we couldn’t afford it—not if we wanted to eat. He felt bad enough bringing us here, and then not being able to provide; but, God had even a better plan.” Gabby turned to Cat. “He sent you, and rewarded all of us.”
Cat smiles softly. “Here, we forgot to get Michael a glass!” She handed it to Gabby, who then turned to go into the den to give the glass the Michael.
Michael sniffed the goblet. “Nice. This is good wine.”
“What do you know about fine wine?”, Gabby giggled.
“You’d be surprised what I know about red wines,” Michael teased.
Cat immediately looked into the wine rack to find the best bottle for the next go-round. After all, it wasn’t every day she had company!
Gabby helped to fix the table for the evening meal. A loaf of French bread was set to thaw from the freezer; it was a thaw-and-bake loaf that would be ready in a short amount of time. Real butter was set out to soften; and the table was set with Cat’s fine china and silver. The lavish spread on the table was far more than the small family could have ever imagined.
“Everything is divine,” Gabby exclaimed. “Again, how will we ever pay you back?”
“If I am rewarded for this, then it will come from above,” Cat said. She smiled at Gabby and reached over to hug the younger woman, knowing that she really needed a warm hug herself. The company was, indeed, sent from God.
They had a wonderful evening, as the fireplace embers eventually grew faint. The young couple wondered where their family would spend the night. It was cold outside, and the children’s eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment.
“You’re staying here—the whole night —there is no argument,” Cat said, firmly. “Besides, you’ve had lots of wine, and where would you sleep? Do you think I would, or could, take you back to a curbside to sleep in a park on a cold night? You would be asking too much of me, I can’t do that. Please, don’t ask me to do that when there are unoccupied rooms here.” She paused, and the young couple exchanged a glance between each other. They didn’t speak right away, and Cat continued, hoping she was winning the argument, “Besides, I’ve had too much to drink, as well, and the mountain road is treacherous under normal
conditions.”
Cat hesitated, and finally added one last word. “Also, for the first time in a very long time, I’m truly enjoying myself. It feels so good to have you here. I’ve had no visitors for many years. Please stay. Don’t go.”
Michael felt so humbled and inadequate. Gabby started to cry again. After they regained their composure and realized there were no other suitable choices but Cat’s, they gave in.
“Yes, thank you; but, Cat, we feel like we’re taking advantage of you. Like we’re begging,” Gabby added, knowing Michael had too much pride to say anything else after such a generous show of hospitality.
He took a deep swallow and held in his feelings of guilt for not being able to provide a place for his family to sleep.
Cat found her good spirits returning, now that she knew her guests would not go out into the cold night. “Stop! That’s enough. Say thank you one more time, and out you go!”, she teased, her eyes sparkling. “It’s settled! Come, this way. Let me show you where the children can sleep.”
She led them upstairs turning on the lights that lit the stairs. “Here, on the right, is a room with double beds. It has an adjoining bathroom and bedroom where you two can sleep.” Cat pointed out the first bedroom, the bathroom, and adjoining bedroom. “I just put clean linens on the beds a few day ago. I’m always hopeful that I’ll have visitors and here you are!”
Gabby and Michael tucked the two children into a warm bed together, wishing them pleasant dreams and whispering a bedtime prayer.
Once the children were put to bed, the adults returned downstairs and sat around the dying fire. They continued their talk about God, a weighted subject from earlier.
Michael spoke up at one point, speaking directly to Cat. “God will bring someone special to your life,” he said.
“Is it a man?” She winked in unbelief, but had fun toying with the remote idea that God was sending someone after all the years. “Why now?”, she wondered.
“No, not a man. A friend. A person who loves you more than you can imagine.” Michael’s gentlemanly eyes glowed like the embers in the fireplace. He appeared inhuman for the briefest flash of a moment, a shadow behind him looking as if he had wings; and, then, that imagining was gone.
She remembered Daniel’s similar message two years ago. She had forgotten about it—dismissed it as nonessential and misunderstood. Buried under thoughts and pain, she’d never considered that it was true.
Cat stared, confused, thinking that she’d had too much wine. She looked again for the angel wings she thought she’d seen on his back. She smiled at Michael, taking a second look, and thinking, “Hmm? Seeing things again, am I?”
She looked intently for the image of wings she thought had been there; but, iridescent and not physically manifested, there was definitely a brilliant aura of light with a shape like massive wings. Then, they were gone; and Michael was, then, giving her a look as if he could see right through her, seeing all her hurts and pains.
He warmly returned her smile and gave a wink, kind of jesting like she did earlier about insisting they stay with her.
“Someone else said the same thing to me that you just said, once. But, it’s been many years and I dispelled his predictions. I think you’re reconfirming his prophecy,” Cat said softly as she watched him. She wished that her eyes were not playing drunken tricks on her again.
She wanted Michael to be an angel, but, again, she dismissed the temporary hallucination. An angel wouldn’t have come to her, after all.
Gabby smiled pleasantly, praising Cat for being so kind. As she spoke, she also looked angelic. It was if she was illuminated by a golden glow of light that surrounded her body. Her curly long auburn hair looked like part of a halo that was a crown of beauty and glory.
“What’s going on here?”, Cat wondered. It felt as though she had passed a test of some kind. So she spoke out loud, “All of this night seems surprisingly unreal—surreal—as if your family was sent here to Glory Town to test me.”
“No, I’ve had way too much wine,” Cat thought, again, to herself. “That can’t be. It’s just my imagination. I don’t believe in childish visions any longer.”
Gabby spoke next. “I do understand how people lose their faith and their beliefs; I do. But, there is one truth I know, and that is: God never leaves us—never. We leave him. In our pain, we wander somewhere else—usually to a place that we think feels better. So, we go there, only to find it a lonelier place—more isolated than before. That place is where we hide our souls, where others can’t hurt us. And, in such a place, God isn’t allowed. We shelter our beings on these islands of isolation— so isolated that our heavenly father isn’t invited either. On those islands, we can lose our minds. It’s like the constant dripping of a leaky faucet—it drips one drop at a time…of eternity. Each drop is a reminder of our separated state and acute awareness. That is our time of our being alone; not even a dog is allowed to interfere. It may lick our faces to comfort us on cold nights. But, no one, not even a dog, will stop our journey inward to self discovery.”
Cat’s mouth dropped in awe. She was certain Gabby had slipped inside her heart and revealed it and spoke it, right there and then. “You came for me? To succor me, instead of me helping you?” She softly spoke in a tender voice, in a moment of truth.
Gabby glowed. That golden light surrounding her shoulders and head radiated. “We came to help one another,” she said, smiling.
Michael kept looking at the dusty guitar Cat had leaning in the corner in the den where they sat. “May I play it?”, he asked.
Cat was still looking at Gabby whose golden countenance dissipated into normal human brilliance before her eyes. She was ordinary again.
“Of course; please do,” Cat said. She got up and threw another log on the fire so it wouldn’t die out just yet. They would enjoy more of it through the night, along with the friendship of her guests. How she had longed for a night just like this one. Hungry for friendship, Cat embraced the moment. She was alive, once again.
If houses could smile, then the Dubois manor laughed, at that moment; and it felt good and right. Cat had hungered for such fellowship. The room had taken on that glow of amber light that had never been seen before in her home. The revived fire swelled to bright, inviting flames that reflected the true fellowship of God’s creation and friendships of old souls. She spoke, “I’ve not felt this close to God in a long time. Maybe He is real.”
Michael retrieved the guitar and tuned the rusty strings to perfect pitch. Once it was set, he began to sing his own songs well into the night. They sipped on wine that never ran out, and with each glass poured, the last seemed finer than the first. Nothing was owed, and all was to gain. Wisdom and gifts of knowledge were given freely, exchanging what seemed to be ancient friendships between three strangers, now friends.
“The universe truly begun with a bang—one of enlightenment and beginnings with which there was nothing that anyone could compare,” Michael said. “The human eye and mind is not capable of seeing or understanding the magnificent explosion of such an idea. The idea came from freedom and liberation contained in an equation set free to take life by flying into reality. Just like an engineer figuring the details on a draftsmen table, so was the beginning. Lights, camera, and action took to motion. Spinning in a mathematical vibrational symphony of algebraic equations, it all started. The orchestra was led by God himself—the mastermind—the grand designer of all this. Isn’t it wonderful?”
The ceiling in the living room seemed to become a planetarium as Michael explained creation to his rapt hostess. As he spoke, the universe began.
“Bang!”, the silence exploded. Swirling motion, synchronistical movement evolving and becoming united in a harmonious chorus of individual sounds reverberating from the stars, all together, and apart from another, joined like a choir tiered, but unique, making up the masterpiece of art by God.
From her velvet couch, Cat stared up at the heavens right there in the room, in amazement. �
�Did you do that?” Her eyes grew wide, her jaw dropping.
“Do what? Here, do you remember this song?” He started strumming the intro to a favorite hymn. “It’s called ‘Love Lifted Me’. Do you know it? The words?”
“Yes. Yes, I remember from Christian camp when I was seven,” Cat whispered.
Michael smiled. “Then, let’s sing.” He sang, “‘I was sinking deep in sin, far from the peaceful shore. Very deeply stained within, sinking to rise no more. But the master of the sea, heard my despairing cry, and from the waters lifted me, now safe am I. Love lifted me, love lifted me; when nothing else could help, love lifted me.’”
They sang together, Michael, Gabby and Cat, in three-part harmony. They sang other campfire Christian songs until late into the night. If homes could sing, the manor was singing that night, too. The boy who appeared in brandy snifter glasses watched as well. Cat didn't noticed him that evening as she preoccupied herself in her company.
Gabby asked, “Do you have a departed brother?”
“What? No; no I don’t. Why do you ask?”, Cat replied.
“Oh, I saw a young lad over there. He was singing too; but, then, when the music stopped he disappeared.” Gabby pointed. “Right there; he was standing next to you.”
Cat turned to look at the place Gabby pointed to with a confused expression.
“It’s nothing to worry about. He means no harm. He is benevolent and belongs with you. He’s very attached—like a brother,” Gabby explained. “I was only curious.”
Cat purposefully raised her eyebrow in puzzlement. “Odd,” she whispered; out loud, but, since Gabby had just confirmed his presence, she then began to think, in her own mind, that the boy she saw on occasion was real. Perhaps she wasn’t losing her mind, afterall. Then, she looked back at Gabby, seeking some kind of confirmation, but she did not dare ask.
“He’s real; you’re not imagining things,” Gabby said, as that warm amber glowing light around her re-appeared.
“You, two, aren’t your mainstream run-of-the-mill Christians, are you?”, Cat asked, rather knowing the answer.
