Divine Destruction (The Return of Divinity Book 1)

Home > Other > Divine Destruction (The Return of Divinity Book 1) > Page 15
Divine Destruction (The Return of Divinity Book 1) Page 15

by Suggs, Lester


  “Dress to impress her, then,” Gabriel remarked. He sounded like a father getting his son ready for a first date. “Do you have flowers?”

  Griffin laughed in his mind. “I hate you.”

  Gabriel navigated them through a crowd, making sure that no one noticed. Griffin rode Gabriel's actions ensuring he could move in the direction that would take him away from an onlooker's attention. The symbiotic action made the process simpler and more natural.

  “Wait,” Griffin said. “You know where she will be in an hour?”

  “Yes,” Gabriel said. “Going back to our conversation in your living room. Information comes to me when it is useful. Does that make sense to you?”

  “Only when sharing head space, it does,” Griffin replied. “I’m going to need to get out of these clothes. Do we have enough time? Will she be there long enough for me to run home and change clothes?”

  “We will be seen entering your home and leaving. Police are watching your neighborhood. Reporting on specific humans,” Gabriel said.

  “How do you know that?” Griffin was shocked to learn that Gabriel could be aware of such activity and that he was under surveillance.

  “They communicate via radio. Radio is an energy signal offered openly through the air.” Gabriel was being flat again in his responses.

  “Okay, okay, enough. I'm just going to stop asking,” Griffin thought.

  “It would be easier,” Gabriel thought back.

  “Why do I feel like I'm in a mind meld with a Vulcan?”

  “Come again?”

  “Bingo.”

  Third Contact

  Itishree and Aruni were on their third hour of shopping. Having taken several laps around the local suburban mall, they had stopped at a chain burger joint. Itishree didn't react well to the food and asked for a slower approach or even going home. Aruni wasn't giving in so easily and decided to take Itishree to one of her favorite stores, IKEA. Aruni guaranteed Itishree there were more restrooms per floor in IKEA than any other store in the United States.

  “And,” Aruni continued the sales pitch, “IKEA is an unique experience. You get to walk through these little rooms decorated and furnished perfectly. It is amazing!"

  Itishree capitulated and later was glad she did. Once she topped the main entry’s stairway the little kid in Itishree came out, “I’m looking into a dozen beautiful rooms at the same time!” she squealed. They both squealed. Bounding from one room to another, Itishree and Aruni bounced from chair to couch, imagining living within each space.

  Aruni admitted to Itishree when she was lonely or down she would often drive out to IKEA and walk the store at least once. Or, as many times as it would take to lift her spirit.

  “One of these rooms always removed my suffering. I just had to find that room and sit in it for a few moments. Then, I felt better and could leave with a smile,” Aruni held onto her cousin’s arm. They sat in one of the large living room exhibits looking at the cardboard HDTV as if their favorite program was coming back from commercial.

  “I like this IKEA,” Itishree blurted, and smiled. So many smiles today. So much to see and do. Itishree thought of the work she had put into being here and of her father who pushed her to do more, to be more. She stared beyond the furniture, beyond these walls. She was looking beyond the here or the now. A single tear rolled down Itishree's face. The saltiness reminded her of all those tears she shed after her father had passed. But she managed a smile, too.

  “Uncle would be so very proud of you,” Aruni whispered. They leaned toward each other and shared the moment.

  It was Aruni who broke the silence. She stood. “Now I need to pee. I'm going to cut over to the cafe and use the restroom.”

  Itishree stood and started down the path, where lit arrows guided customers deeper into the store.

  “I’ll be in the area,” Itishree assured Aruni. She made a circling motion with her index finger.

  Aruni darted towards the stairwell. Itishree watched her go then turned to see what wonders lay before her. Itishree could see there were only four living room displays left before the children's area. She had no interest in seeing the children's area. Education, career, husband, family — those were her choices and the correct order in which they should arrive. Itishree comforted herself with those rules her father had given her. She walked up to the next display, a spartan white furnished room. She found it neat but imagined it for a young person who wanted more than a dorm room during college. It wasn't for a young professional like herself. Itishree took in the smaller items but really couldn't warm up to the display. She backed away and crossed the hall toward the large display on the left.

  The exhibition was a warmer, darker setup with two large brown leather pieces, a contemporary couch and matching love seat. The room was just modern enough with the right amount of warmth for Itishree's taste. And as IKEA carefully crafted through their own special voodoo, Itishree imagined herself within this living space. She sat and liked the feel of the love seat. The height of the arm. The angle of the back. To her they were perfect.

  Griffin saw her stride across the aisle, from the display adjacent to the one where he stood. She was beautiful. Five foot four, more or less. Darker skin, jet black hair. Indian. Thin. Graceful. Sleek.

  “She isn't a puma, Griffin,” Gabriel thought.

  Griffin's skin was electric with anticipation.

  “What do I say?” Griffin felt like a teenager. He had been waiting for this for hours. Hell, for days since seeing her in the late-night hallucination. But here in the real world she was magnificent.

  Being able to read Griffin's thoughts, Gabriel almost whistled with alarm.

  “You’d better leave this to me. In your current state she's going to think you're a stalker waiting to pounce on her,” Gabriel was becoming more concerned the closer Itishree became.

  “Wait, 'stalker'? Where did you hear about stalker?” Griffin thought-muttered.

  “Griffin, allow me to take control momentarily. I'm worried this first meeting isn't going to go as planned.”

  “All right, all right. You drive.” Griffin gave in and felt Gabriel taking over his body. Gabriel turned Griffin to the right and took him another step deeper into the display. Griffin felt like a series of involuntary nerve firings were running through his body. At first the motion was a little jerky and robotic, but as Griffin was turned back around to face the aisle, the motion became more natural. Smoother. Griffin stood in the middle of the display, waiting.

  “Do I do anything at all?”

  “No”

  “What are you going to say?”

  “What must be said.”

  “What if she walks on by?”

  “She won’t.”

  Gabriel could feel Griffin mentally inhale, ready for another question.

  “Be still,” the Archangel thought firmly.

  Griffin let the question go and struggled to find peace within the situation. He watched Itishree. She was taking the time to admire every item in the display. She touched the window treatments, looked at the light fixtures, sconces, coffee and end tables. He saw Itishree blow out a breath and watched her relax. Her emotional connection to this display was over. She made her way out of the small maze of furniture and diagonally crossed the isle. She wore a colorful silk scarf loosely tied around her neck and one shoulder. She had on a red cotton pullover and jeans that had faded to grey. Her hair was as Griffin remembered — jet black. Her eyes were a brown of earth, of leather, of making. Beautiful was too simple a word. She then looked over her shoulder. Griffin had no idea why. He could see no one behind her. She turned her head forward and walked up to the display. She saw him and said nothing. Their eyes met. Itishree’s mouth opened. He was emotionally lost in front of her. He could see she was trying to form a sound but couldn't. They were transfixed. And then everything changed.

  They were back in the heavy forest standing next to the small river. Small darts of light passed around as the breeze move
d the trees above them. Griffin felt his body move forward and his right hand extend. Glancing at his arm he could see the return of the exquisite inlaid robe. The clothes she was wearing in the store were replaced by the same robe as before. She was looking around with less fear on her features, than before.

  “Be at peace. You are blessed before God. Stand and accept his grace and love,” Griffin felt himself say. She took his hand and smiled. Griffin melted. He became lost in her smile, her eyes, the feel of her hand, the sound of her voice. She was talking. Griffin focused and heard her say with heavily accented English, “Who are you?”

  “Gabriel, Herald of God,” Griffin heard his voice say.

  Her eyes widened, and Griffin could feel her pull back a little from their clasp.

  “Don’t be afraid. God welcomes you to his graces,” Griffin said.

  Again she smiled. Their eyes held each other for moments until she looked away searching around them.

  “Where is the strange one?” she asked, her English becoming more familiar.

  “I am giving you this moment,” Gabriel thought within Griffin's mind.

  “Thank you,” Griffin whispered in his mind. Griffin broke free of Gabriel's control and looked around too. His eyes fell on her again, soaking her up as shadow and light danced around them. She caught him looking at her and lowered her eyes. Griffin's smiled broadened by degrees. He placed his left hand over hers.

  “The man with the long arms and large eyes?” Griffin asked her.

  “Yes, is he here?” she asked.

  Griffin felt he couldn't stop himself from saying, “He is within me. We are one.”

  “How?”

  Griffin saw she wanted to ask many questions but stopped herself.

  “My name is Itishree. What is yours?” Itishree asked instead.

  She seemed to know there was a difference. Griffin let slip a questioning look. He wondered how she knew. “My name is Griffin,” he said. They were still holding hands. “Gabriel is here with me.” When he saw Itishree accept what he said he continued.

  “You are a part of something important. Something wonderful,” Griffin said.

  Itishree looked around again, “What is this place?”

  Griffin didn't answer right away. He was playing her question over and over in his mind, enjoying her accent.

  “This is a place Gabriel knows and enjoys. This is my third time here.” Griffin said. He let her hands go and facing the river. “The first time I arrived, there were children playing on the opposite bank.” Griffin gestured toward the small river. "I watched them play. Listened to their laughter. Enjoyed their smiles.”

  Itishree stood next to him, facing the river.

  “Your time is over.” Gabriel crashed through his mind and took control of Griffin. He turned to face Itishree and said, “You are mankind's last salvation and God's messenger.”

  Griffin was momentarily blinded by a blue light that seemed to be between him and Itishree. He saw Itishree squint against the brilliance, too. The blue light cast moving shadows upon their faces as it moved from Griffin to Itishree.

  “Itishree!” Griffin heard another female voice shout nearby.

  “What just happened, Gabriel?” Griffin offered the question out loud. Then, he turned only to thought. “I felt something move from us to Itishree. I can feel the total of you, of us, diminished.”

  “She has been given a soul, a child, to gestate,” Gabriel thought. Griffin could feel him smile with accomplishment.

  “You knocked her up?” Griffin said. Horror swirled with his thoughts.

  Itishree turned to see her cousin striding to her, a concerned look across her face. She was back amongst the furniture. Itishree turned back to the display. The man, Griffin still stood there. Worry upon his face.

  Aruni looked back and forth between her cousin and this strange person, this man.

  “Itishree, are you okay?” she asked in their native Hindi.

  “Yes, I am fine. Don't be rude, speak English,” Itishree returned in Hindi before switching back to English. “This is my Griffin,” Itishree said to Aruni. She made a small, awkward gesture toward Griffin. “Griffin, this is my cousin, Aruni.”

  Aruni mouthed the words “My Griffin” to Itishree. Her eyebrows crumpled then bounced upward.

  Griffin and Aruni exchanged equally awkward greetings and nods. Griffin couldn’t recall a more silent moment that followed.

  “Itish, we are late and need to go,” Aruni said.

  “Yes,” Itishree agreed and wanted away from the abnormality of what had just happened. She was warm, and at peace within the same breath. She looked into Griffin's eyes again. She could almost see the aura around him, could feel the warmth in him from across the display. Part of her didn't want to leave. Now that she was paying attention to herself, for a moment, her common sense told her to run. She felt strange, more alive, more complete than she ever felt before.

  “It was nice meeting you, Griffin,” Itishree said. She reached out and took Griffin’s hand. She didn’t shake his hand. She held it for a moment. “I’m sorry we must go.”

  Griffin didn't reply. He looked like a zombie seeing his first UFO.

  The girls turned to go, Aruni lending a hand on Itishree's upper arm. Once out of earshot, Aruni looked back to ensure Griffin wasn't following them and that no other shoppers were going to drop from nowhere and introduce themselves.

  “Who was Gabriel?” Aruni sounded confused. “That Griffin man said the name Gabriel when I walked up.”

  “It was nothing,” Itishree said, with a shrug. But it had been something. A huge piece of the puzzle she had been putting off since her flight from the day before had just fallen into place. Was this really happening, Itishree thought. And holy cow was she hungry now.

  “Are we leaving now?” Itishree asked her cousin.

  “Yes, we are getting out of here,” Aruni said, looking back over her shoulder a fourth time. “How is it I can't find a decent man in the eighteen months I have been in this country, and a good looking man introduces himself to you in forty eight hours?”

  Itishree was glad her cousin had dropped her fear. She giggled and looked over to her cousin. “Don’t tell mom or Auntie Deepa, or I'll beat you like a criminal,” Itishree said to her cousin half-heartedly. They both knew if males were involved this early and the elder family females found out both mothers would be onshore and in their faces within seventy two hours. Neither wanted that.

  “I would never do that to you or to me,” Aruni reassured her cousin. They both began to laugh as they exited the building's public entrance.

  But Itishree's laugh was subdued. Her mind swam in a torrent of emotion. She was very much afraid of these visions she was having. She was sharing a strange experience with this man, Griffin. Her fear went only as far as her own willingness to question her sanity. Itishree trusted Griffin. But she didn’t know why. Something was very wrong here. Itishree wasn't prepared for her mind wandering about on other planets. As Aruni and Itishree walked silently to her cousin's car, Itishree found herself ticking off the people she could speak with to gain insight on losing one's mind. After exhausting every name, a new panic kicked in. She was alone. She had traveled all this way to find a new life. A life she believed she had always wanted. And after crossing the border of America she had become bipolar? She had schizophrenia? Dementia?

  In the car, Itishree ran through several mental exercises: remembering her ancestors as far back as she could, square roots, the birthday dates of everyone she knew, the names of her best friends in high school and college. Everything was there. Her memory was sound. Her mind had discovered a new flaw of transporting her to other places, with the same cute man there to greet her. Itishree sat straighter. “Was I dreaming?” she asked herself. Itishree didn't know.

  Relaxing a little, Itishree looked around to take in more of her new home's surroundings. Aruni was driving like a conservative old lady, but had the music turned up so loud her side window
vibrated. The cars in America were large, and the roads were amazingly organized. People actually followed the rules and obeyed each other's space. Itishree felt safe in a car here. Back home, traffic accidents were becoming a major concern. Itishree’s mind was rattling around like a rock in a barrel.

  He was cute. And, more so in person. Itishree made a deliberate effort to look out the passenger window so not to reveal her smile.

  “What are you thinking about?” her cousin asked.

  They both looked at each other briefly. Each having their own intentions.

  “Nothing,” Itishree gave the obvious white lie.

  “Tell your cousin,” Aruni demanded.

  Itishree looked out through the car window and saw nothing. Her mind’s eye was blinding her. Itishree reined in her imagination and tried to sound focused. “What did you think of Griffin?” Itishree asked. She'd wished she could have pulled those words back from the air.

  The Trail

  It was early for a region director, Joe thought. He checked his watch for a second time. 8:04 a.m. local time. Joe sat in an small waiting area outside his regional head's office. The space was sparse, Joe noted. The alcove was created from the building's outer wall and the front wall of his manager's office. Two metal-framed armchairs were all that stood in the alcove. Joe wondered when Americans became so cheap. He recalled watching television programs as a younger man where waiting areas were lush and inhabited with overly made-up secretaries. A Butler's table rested against one wall, ornamented with contemporary decanters of exotic liquors. Joe imagined the liquor was for serious earth shaking conversations.

  Arthur was beginning to run late on their meeting and Joe had a tight schedule today. He wanted his techs hopping by 9:00 a.m. Arthur's office door popped open. Arthur stuck his head out and waved for Joe to come in. Joe leaped from the horrible chair and walked briskly into the office.

  “Very busy these days, Joe. Many hands to hold. Many ears to content. Please forgive the delay. Would you like some coffee? Breakfast pastry, perhaps?” Arthur gestured toward a side table that had a stainless steel carafe and half a dozen hand made pastries. No exotic liquors here. Examining the pastries, Joe noted they weren't from a box. Pittsburgh had many excellent local bakeries.

 

‹ Prev