Divine Destruction (The Return of Divinity Book 1)

by Suggs, Lester

  From just outside a boom sounded. Griffin imagined it was from a freak lightning strike. Glass jingled in the restaurant. The other patrons made sounds of alarm. The waitress looked around for a moment. Her mother came out of the kitchen and checked the dining room. After being satisfied no harm had come to the guests she went back into the kitchen. The waitress turned as if nothing had happened.

  “Sir, may I bring you something to drink?” the waitress asked. She was also Indian and appeared too young to hold a job at all. Obviously the establishment was family owned. This pleased Griffin.

  “Iced tea, please,” Griffin said, looking at the young lady and expecting her to dissolve as fast as she had appeared.

  The girl spun away from them and headed for the kitchen.

  “Itishree, this has been an extraordinary week for me. I’m damned if I know even how to begin to explain what has happened.” Griffin looked at Itishree. He filtered and re-filtered his thoughts trying to put voice to his mind. Itishree saved him.

  “Start at the beginning, Griffin,” she said. “We have the evening.” That brought out a broad smile from Griffin.

  Griffin spent the next twenty minutes explaining what had happened over the last six days, with as much detail as he could recall. He left out sharing his mind with Gabriel though. He didn't feel this was knowledge he could give up for now. What Gabriel could do with or without Griffin could frighten Itishree, and he didn’t want that. When Gabriel was with him, he could feel the need to make this work. It was an obsession. It was what Archangels do, and it was becoming as much a part of Griffin as Gabriel.

  Their food arrived and they spent the next five minutes in silence eating. Griffin paused and looked at Itishree. She put down her fork, and pushed her plate aside.

  “I was in an airport terminal in Philadelphia,” Itishree said. Philadelphia came out as Filly-del-fee-ah, carefully accentuating each syllable. Griffin cracked another smile. He was glad to stop talking and listen. Her accent was mesmerizing. She smiled back in a sneer sort of way. Itishree recalled her waking dreams, as she called them. Griffin knitted the shared experiences together for her. When she paused, it was clear they had shared the last two encounters.

  Griffin leaned back in the chair and thought. He had instantaneous anxiety of a bank robber about to slip on a dark mask and recheck his weapon. There was an ominous dark presence to where they were in time. He was afraid. Griffin knew he couldn't escape his immediate destiny. He knew Itishree felt exactly the same.

  “When we saw Gabriel in IKEA…it was threw you” Itishree paused, unable to finish the question. The question seemed too mundane. "When we shared that hallucination, waking dream, out-of-body experience, whatever that was.” She looked at Griffin intently. Her eyes were huge. “Gabriel said to me, you said to me, at least I understood it as Gabriel. The voice was different somehow. He said to me, ‘You are mankind's last salvation and God's messenger.’ What does this mean? Who am I to the Archangel Gabriel? Who am I to you?"

  And there it was. Direct and to the point. Griffin could think of no way around it. No way to change the subject. No way to avoid this conversation. The air was heavy now. Time slowed. Griffin remembered something his mother had said to him since he was a little boy, “Griffin, it's never as bad as it seems.” The only positive conclusion Griffin could conjure was better to tell her through his mind and not Gabriel's. He stole a shallow breath.

  "You are Muhammad. You are Jesus. You are Moses,” Griffin said.

  Itishree began to shudder. A little at first, but it only took moments to overcome her. She looked down at her lap and began to cry silently. Griffin imagined this is how strong women cry. Quietly. To themselves. Alone. But Itishree wasn't alone. She wasn't going to be alone.

  “God has determined mankind is ready for the last instruction,” Griffin said quietly. He looked left and right to ensure no one else was near. Watching her cry was like ripping off his fingernails. “You will deliver this message to all of us.” He tried to soften the blows as best he could. He was failing. Itishree sobbed. Griffin wanted to run away. His feet began to dance under the table. He was embarrassed, angry, and morose. Griffin got up from his chair and settled into one adjacent to Itishree.

  He leaned forward and spoke quietly. “Itishree, this is all I know. I know this is important. I know this is real. What I've seen, and what I've experienced these last few days has been terrifying and venerable. I know so much. I've seen behind the veil of religious dogma. I've witnessed the majesty of interaction on a scale of which I was never aware.”

  She looked up at him for a moment. The sobbing had stopped. Griffin pulled more napkins out of the table dispenser. Looking across the table he saw an older woman and the younger waitress standing together. Both gave Griffin the same un-approving, scornful frown. He handed Itishree the napkins.

  “I’m afraid, Itishree. If you don't carry this message, I'm afraid of what Gabriel will do. I'm afraid for us all.” He was close enough to Itishree to smell her hair. “Gabriel is very powerful, on a cosmic scale.” He added. “He is the Archangel Gabriel.”

  Griffin stopped there. He didn't know what else to say. He was never good at breaking up with girls. He was a mess at his parents’ funerals. He didn't have the experience to deliver such news.

  Dabbing and blowing, Itishree composed herself as best she could. She folded napkin after napkin in her lap. Itishree’s eyes darted between her lap and Griffin. Her look froze on him and she blinked a few times. “I’ve only just arrived in this country. Two days I have been in Pittsburgh.” Griffin noted her accent with sweetness. “This day I have looked to for many years. My father, my mother, my family have been through so much to get me here. I promised my father…” She trailed off, concentrating on the pain of her father's memory.

  “What did you promise your father?” Griffin asked in a whisper.

  She looked up at him again. They were so close Griffin could smell her salty tears.

  “I promised my father I would become something special. That I would slough off the societal pressure of my ancestors and be more than I imagined.” She dared a small smile after that. Griffin didn't know if the smile came from memories of her father or realizing she was fulfilling her promise.

  “I’ll be there with you every day.” Griffin kissed her softly, twice. Then he withdrew. Itishree stole another kiss from Griffin making sure what just happened was real. She tasted her lips not wanting the moment to end.

  “How long will this take?” Itishree asked.

  “How long will what take?”

  “Delivering the word of…” She stopped realizing the gravity of her role. Her lips crumpled inward and another tear formed. “My life as I planned it is over?” It came out as a question.

  Griffin could only answer with what he knew. And everything he knew was grave.

  “Itishree, if we don't take up these roles, the world as we know it will end. I've seen it. When Gabriel came to me, we spoke for a long time. Mankind cannot continue like it is today. We are enslaved by debt. A few are close to owning and running the entire planet. Corporations are causing wars. Water has become a commodity. There is no privacy. We have turned inward when we must look outside of our environment. We cannot stay on this planet.” Griffin knew he was rambling.

  “How will this work?” Itishree asked.

  The young waitress came and removed their plates.

  “We don't have to get into that now,” Griffin replied. He had said too much for Itishree to comprehend, he feared.

  They exchanged cell numbers. Griffin got up to leave and asked if he could walk Itishree to her car.

  “I’ll call a taxi. My cousin dropped me off here on her way downtown,” Itishree said, looking up at Griffin.

  “I’ll take you home.” Griffin extended his hand.

  She took it and stood.

  Griffin paid the bill directly at the waitress station and included a modest gratuity. She smiled and thanked him with a toothy grin. />
  Itishree and Griffin were halfway across the parking lot headed toward his parked car when Griffin stopped. Itishree stopped next to him with an inquisitive look.

  “Don’t freak out,” Griffin said. He could feel Gabriel’s presence nearby, waiting to rejoin his host.

  Thousands of small blue stars begin to form all around them. Quickly the stars began to collapse towards her and Griffin. She grabbed his arm with both hands and drew near Griffin.

  “Gabriel?” she asked.

  “Yes, he is rejoining me,” Griffin replied. “He’ll have something to say once he arrives.”

  The sphere of small points of light fell upon him with a rush. Itishree looked at Griffin. Her mouth gaped. For a moment Griffin's hair stood on his head and he was back lit with pale blue light. It faded as quickly as it had arrived. Gabriel was back inside him. Rejoined.

  He could feel Itishree's grasp let go. He turned and caught her.

  Minutes later she awoke in Griffin's car. The windows were down and Itishree noticed the forgotten taste of Indian food in her mouth. The effect made her immediately nauseous. Grabbing a full inhale of the evening's air from the window, she tried to cap the oncoming sick within her. She was going to fail and she knew it. Itishree clawed and found the car door latch and had time to wretch on the street and not in Griffin's car. She wretched again. And again. The fourth time all she could do was dry heave into air. She was spent. And, realizing where she was, deeply embarrassed.

  She looked up and over to her left to see Griffin smiling a guilty grin. He popped open the glove box and handed her a few paper napkins and she took them while sitting up and closing the car door. The taste in her mouth now was as bad as she could ever remember. Griffin slammed the glove box closed.

  Itishree blew out a sigh, away from Griffin of course, feeling better now that her dinner was on the asphalt. “I’ve blubbered like a little girl, lost my dinner onto the street, and I’m not half way through my first date,” she smiled and she wiped her mouth again.

  “I’m completely smitten,” Griffin said with his best stupid grin. He was quick with a stick of gum which Itishree took with expressed glee.

  “I’m very sorry about that,” Itishree said motioning towards the door. Griffin's reply was to start the car and put it into gear to move away from the scene.

  “Where to, my lady,” he said looking back on Itishree who was chewing the gum with earnest. They both laughed. She gave him a general area where she was sharing an apartment with her cousin.

  "No, really. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me?" Itishree said making it a half question.

  Just as quickly as she had exploded with emotion, Itishree stopped, and fell silent. Griffin allowed the silence to roll into minutes, and then miles. He knew Itishree was thinking heavily. Probably sulking.

  Inside Griffin's mind he could feel Gabriel's indifference to the mental suffering of Itishree. And Gabriel could feel his smothering guilt. Tears began to form in Griffin's eyes too. He drove on asking for directions within the painful silence. Gabriel was silent as well, not replying to Griffin's internal scorn.

  Eventually, through Itishree's silence she said, “Turn right at the next corner then it's the second building on the right,” adding a careful hand gesture.

  Our Decision

  Griffin pulled to the curb and shut off his car. More moments passed. Itishree was in no hurry to leave the car and Griffin, no hurry to have her leave. Metallic clicks and clanks denoted the car cooling. Despite the mountainous tension between them, they held onto one another's presence. Gabriel, inside Griffin, stopped observing and began to reach out for their emotions. Fear, love, kindness, anxiety, apprehension, and uncertainty were mixed together within them both. It was time for Gabriel to intervene.

  “Itishree,” Gabriel began. “God needs your help.”

  Itishree looked at Griffin. Her face was moist and red from grief.

  “Are you Griffin or Gabriel?” she asked. Her words croaked from her throat.

  “Gabriel.”

  “I’m afraid,” Itishree replied. “I have no experience.”

  "Neither did Mary," Gabriel said with Griffin's voice. "Remember your mother's love and be who God has chosen."

  Itishree said nothing. But she thought, ‘Why did he say “Mary”?’ Her gaze returned to the car's floor and into oblivion. Griffin reached out and took Itishree's hand in his. She turned to look at him.

  “Griffin now,” he said placing his other hand on his chest in a gesture if Itishree had forgotten his name.

  She nodded.

  “We have both been chosen because of who we are,” Griffin said. “From my bond with Gabriel, I was chosen because of my openness to religion. You because you're kind and know only love. Your parents and family loved you unconditionally and you return your love unconditionally. And, you are also open to…” Griffin stumbled to continue.

  “To this.” Itishree completed Griffin's thought with a gesture towards him.

  “Yeah,” Gabriel answered.

  “How will we survive? How will I know what to say? What to do? Where will we live? How will we live?” Itishree asked.

  Griffin was comfortable resigning these questions of the future to Gabriel. He wanted to hear the answers himself. Since their adventure had begun, many conversations he had had with Gabriel were based on the present, what they were doing at the moment. Not since he had found Gabriel in his living room did Griffin have time to ask questions to secure himself in the future.

  “Our financial situation is secure. Funds have been set aside. You and Griffin will live and travel all over this planet, writing, teaching, and learning,” Gabriel said.

  Griffin noticed Itishree held his hand through the exchange with Gabriel but had lessened her grip. Her thumb no longer stroked the back of his hand. Griffin liked the caress. He also remembered Gabriel was aware of his every thought, and that the Archangel was not commenting on his growing emotional bond with Itishree. He was thankful for Gabriel's discretion.

  “And who will be my partner in all of this adventure?” Griffin heard Itishree say.

  There it was. Itishree was direct and Griffin liked that about her. He could sense Gabriel's reluctance to correct Itishree with a surreal and possibly metaphysical answer. Both he and Griffin knew the importance of the child she was carrying. Griffin realized that Itishree knew and had accepted this too.

  “I will be.” Griffin heard himself say. Then he reviewed what he heard and, with surprise, knew that he had said it. Had meant it. His shoulders relaxed and he blew out a warm sigh. Itishree was gripping his hand tight now. Sweat beginning to form between their flesh.

  Itishree smiled at last. “Thank you,” she said to Griffin. To Gabriel she said, “All right Mr. Angel, I accept my fate.”

  “We leave in forty eight hours,” Gabriel said with Griffin's voice, shocking Griffin and Itishree.

  “Should I tell her about the gift you gave her back in IKEA?” Griffin thought to Gabriel.

  “No!” was all Gabriel replied.

  Joe Diclaro ran his hand over the roof of Tom Palocsik's patrol car. There, right of center, the paint had bubbled. In the darkness of the poorly lit street, Joe couldn't make out detail of the small bubbles. The paint didn't feel right. Paint bubbles should not feel so dense, so sturdy. Joe tried to force down the bubbled surface with a thumb, but found he couldn't. After closer inspection Joe guessed the roof's mix of steel had bubbled, not the paint. Similar to a rust bubble but without the potato-chip feel beneath. But Joe knew the agency didn't allow rust to live in open sight. The car would be called in and body work done right away. Joe bent down and examined the ceiling fabric panel. It was unscathed. Strange Joe thought. Very strange.

  Joe spun slowly and took in the surrounding area. The street where Tom’s car was parked, opened up on a semi-dark parking lot. Few vehicles. Closed shops. He saw his now dead agent being placed into the coroner's van. “Fuck,” Joe murmured. He hadn’t know Tom Pal
ocsik. But, he had been one of DHS’s agents. Albeit, a new agent.

  “What is it that I don't know?” Joe asked himself. “What am I missing?” he said aloud. Taking a flashlight from his car he began a slow and careful inspection of the parking lot. Then, starting with a circle around the fallen agent's car, he worked outward. With his other hand he pulled out his cell phone and called back to their operations room.

  “Bryce,” answered the voice on the other end. Joe had made Bryce one of the two duty officers. A slightly elevated position over the other techs.

  “Bryce, Joe, I need all of the camera footage between Broad Street and Mary Street north of Main in Carnegie. Makes sure you get coverage of both main parking lots.” Bryce repeated Joe's request to ensure his notes were correct.

  “Did you find Tom?” Bryce asked.

  “Yeah, dead,” came Joe's bland response. He looked around and walked away from the scene and out into the middle of the closest parking lot and away from non-authorized ears.

  “Something entered his vehicle from above,” Joe added. “I want everyone sourcing camera footage from earlier tonight. Start before dusk and search forward from there. Hell, wake everyone up, whatever it takes.”

  Sharp “Yes sir’s” were shooting from Bryce as fast as Joe gave orders.

  “And you tell the kids this death steps everything up ten notches.” An uncomfortable pause followed. Joe thought over what to call Tom's death. But decided not to add the term, ‘murder’.

  “Make sure our group goes out in pairs from now on,” Joe added. He turned back toward the unmarked car and the other local officers. “I can't afford one of you ending up like Tom. And Bryce, have one of the kids find out when Tom was supposed to report in during the night. That may give us a clue.”

  “No sir, yes sir,” came over Joe's cell before he ended the call.

  Joe did notice a possible clue from the parking lot. There were a few dry parking slots in the lot. This may indicate where cars were parked the evening before or during the night that had left. Joe hurriedly withdrew a notepad from his car and began making scribbles, making a rough outline of the parking lots. Next he indicated which parking spots were dry. Joe made a mental note to inquire on the dew point from the evening. Tom's killer had used one of these dry parking spots tonight.