by S. L. Naeole
But I could. Because it was right in front of me, too.
“It’s my mother’s.”
All three of them responded with the same one word question. “What?”
“That’s why he wouldn’t tell me. He didn’t want to tell me that we were in my mom’s sanctuary because he’d have to tell me how we could get in there. Oh my God, we got in because of me. I could have left any time I wanted. It’s my fault I was in there for so long.” I shoved my hands into my hair, and groaned in dismay when they became stuck in the mud and tangles.
“This isn’t your fault, Grace,” Robert insisted.
“Yeah—you didn’t know,” Graham agreed.
“Lark’s here,” Stacy announced before leaving.
I yanked at my hands and winced when they came free, pulling out some hair in the process. I looked at my arms and my hands and then looked up into Robert’s eyes. I could see my reflection in them and I shrieked.
“Why didn’t you tell me I looked like a hag!”
“Because you don’t,” Robert insisted. “Yes, you’re dirty. Yes, you’re exhausted. But underneath all of it you’re still Grace. You’re still my wife.”
“I never thought I’d be so happy to hear myself being called that before,” I said in a half-laugh, half-sob.
“Well, get used to it…wife.”
Lark approached tentatively, her face showing nothing but regret. “I’m sorry.”
Well…
“Whoa.”
Lark, when have you ever apologized to me for something?
“I should have taken you instead. I shouldn’t have let you go with Graham. It’s my call to protect you. I’m supposed to keep you safe and I didn’t. I failed. I failed at my call and I’m sorry.”
Seeing Lark look so weak, so broken and imperfect, it was like being in a fog. I looked at my friends faces, I looked at Robert’s face; they were all frozen, as though blinded by what had happened. It was as if all of us had spent the past seven days in the dark, and with our first glimpse in the light, we were seeing things we didn’t want to see.
And what did I not want to see?
I looked down again at my hands and it was right there, stuck to my finger by a clump of dried mud. It was Lem’s ring, probably finding its way onto my hand after digging through the mud.
You now have every single secret I’ve ever had in the palm of your hand.
“I need someone to wear this ring,” I blurted.
Robert looked at it and then reached for it.
“No!” I clutched my hand to my chest and shook my head. “Not you. Not after what happened with Gabriel’s ring. I don’t want you going through that again.”
“Well then who?”
I looked at Lark, who looked at Robert, who fumed. “Fine.”
I exhaled with relief. Ameila was the only Seraphim I trusted, the only one who could wear Lem’s ring and not be hurt by its designation.
“So where is she?”
Lark answered when Robert refused. “She’s at the hospital. She’s taken Janice’s place there so that we can keep Janice safe.”
I nodded. “Well, this is important. Lem said he wasn’t Sam’s partner. I don’t believe him…but the truth is here, and we need to find out what it is before someone else gets hurt or worse.”
“Let’s go,” Robert said gravely.
“C-can I take a shower first?” I asked sheepishly.
DUALITY
The ICU currently smelled like boiled meat. At least, that’s what Graham said when we walked in.
“That’s just the bed pan smell,” Stacy said casually as we were led down a hallway with glass for walls.
The nurse who had offered to show us where “Janice” was stopped in front of a curtained doorway. “She’s in there. Your father’s in there with her,” he said with a wan smile.
“Thank you,” I said before pushing aside the curtain and stepping into the large room filled with off-white machines, chairs, and an occupied hospital bed.
Dad was sitting in a chair in the corner; his head held in his hands, his shoulders slumped forward in obvious defeat. He didn’t hear us enter. Instead he was told by a single thought, and when he looked up and saw my face matching the voice that told him that I was okay, it was like watching the years wind back, the aged lines on his face disappearing with gladness and relief.
“Oh thank God,” he let out, his hands finding me, pulling me into his desperate embrace and squeezing hard, cutting off my ability to breathe for just a moment. “Where was she?” he asked into my hair.
“Llehmai had her in Avi’s sanctuary,” Lark answered gruffly.
Dad didn’t react at all. He just continued to hold me, his breathing slowing down as he grew more and more sure that I was actually there. He touched my head, my shoulders, my ears. He held my face and looked into my eyes, not blinking, not breathing. He pushed my head against his shoulder again and sighed after inhaling my hair.
“We need to speak to Ameila,” I whispered into his ear, knowing that we didn’t have much time.
“Ameila? Oh.” He looked up and then towards the curtained doorway. “You won’t find any privacy here.”
“I won’t need privacy,” I told him before easing away and then turning to the still form that lay in the bed. It looked like Janice. To anyone who didn’t know the truth, it was Janice. Ameila had perfected her role as comatose woman, with the pale skin and the dull hair.
The machines attached to her were quiet, the numbers probably telling someone who understood them exactly what they were expecting. Through the soft pump of air and the even softer beeps, I felt her push of thoughts.
You have returned safely. I am glad.
It was strange, seeing Janice’s face while hearing Ameila’s voice, especially after everything that Ameila had done. I trusted Janice. Even though this was my idea, I wasn’t sure I could trust Ameila. But I had no choice. I need your help.
Slip the ring on my finger; I already know what to do. Hold my hand; let the memories slip into you. But…are you sure you are prepared for what might be contained in his ring? You’ve already seen some the worst of what we’re capable of, but these are the memories of someone you trusted. What you learn might be worse than even that.
I looked at the serene face of my step-mother and knew that it didn’t matter whether I was prepared or not; the worst was already happening.
I understand.
Alright.
Lem’s ring was heavy in my pocket. I removed it and then slipped the ring onto the middle finger of her left hand. The images began almost immediately.
***
“He will serve an important purpose when he receives his call.”
“We all do.”
“Avi, can you not see it? Feel.”
I could see Lem’s hand reach for my mother’s. He pulled it to her belly, which was round and full. “He will have a great role in the future of all of us.”
“The role he will serve will be no more important than any other that we fill. We cannot keep believing that we are somehow better than anyone else. We are not unique or individual, Llehmai. He will do what he has born to do, nothing more.”
This surprised me. I didn’t remember much of my mother, but I knew that she’d never sounded so…cold. And by the way I could feel his skin harden around his mouth, I knew he felt the same.
“This is our son, Avi.”
“Yes, the son we had to have.”
I felt the pinch in Lem’s chest at the tone in my mother’s voice. “You hate what we had to do that much?”
“It isn’t hate. It is sadness over not being able to say that he was conceived out of love.”
“But he was!”
My mother removed her hand from Lem’s grip and floated away from him. “You know those feelings are unnecessary. I already feel a genuine love for you, but I cannot be in love with you. It serves no purpose to either of us. We are not here to be lovers. We were not created to love each ot
her. We were created to love them, humans, and by confusing the emotions we feel through them with the sense of duty and responsibility we have within us, we only set ourselves up to fail as both angels and as lovers.”
Lem’s body ran cold with hurt and dismay. He looked at my mother through the rose-tinted glasses that I thought only humans were aware of. He saw her as beautiful, perfect, and everything that an angel was supposed to be. But she was also changing. He made a mental note of it; she was becoming more and more like her mentor.
“Gabriel’s cynicism is turning you cold, Avi.”
My mother smiled as though it was expected, automatic. “His cynicism is towards the humans. Mine is towards our own kind. I would hardly think that makes me cold. I think it makes me a better angel.”
“You think caring more for the humans you kill than for your own kind makes you a better angel?
“Yes. You forget; we aren’t here for ourselves; we are here for them. Wanting to be here for ourselves is what caused the flood.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
My mother’s voice, loud and violently angry, shocked me when she snarled. “Yes; I believe you don’t know that. You weren’t there. You did not see what I saw, did what I did. You were created in a time when people had already forgotten what had happened and why. They had already forgotten when the world was one ocean, and it was made of the dead.
“Until you have seen half of our kind decaying because of their selfishness and their greed for power, you don’t know anything.”
Standing away from her, Lem’s eyes took in everything about her. She was very pregnant. It looked like she was only a few weeks away from giving birth. All angels glowed, but she seemed to radiate a much deeper light, one that felt all too familiar.
“I know that I did not exist then, but it is hard to not know what happened when they consume your thoughts. You bear so much of that weight alone; let me help you.”
My mother shook her head. “I do not need your help, Llehmai.”
“You will one day.”
“I know.”
***
“How could you let her do this?”
Sam.
Even through his father’s eyes, Sam was perfection. There was no hint to the malice that skirted just beneath the surface of his golden smile.
“You seem to forget that Avi outranks me; I didn’t let her do anything. I’ve expressed my disapproval but she will do what she wishes.”
Lem was staring out across a watery surface. It was evening, and the reflection of stars could be seen glittering from both above and below. Lem sighed at the sight.
“Then you know what I will do.”
“You say that as though it is not something that you’ve wanted to do for a while.”
Sam’s laughter was too full of glee to have been anything but genuine at his father’s comment. “I’ve wanted to kill her, yes. But unlike her, I know my place. As evil as you think I am, I’ve always obeyed the laws.”
“It’s not the laws that matter to you. You have not forgiven her for what happened to Miki.”
Sam’s laughter died away. “I haven’t forgiven any of you.”
Lem’s vision narrowed, his body tightening in reaction to Sam’s simple statement. “She is your mother.”
“And you’re my father, and both of you worked together to deny me the type of happiness that you were unable to find with each other. Your selfishness killed the only thing in this world I ever cared about, and I will never stop hating you for that.”
***
The little girl crying on the steps of the empty school made his heart burn. He had watched her all day, from the moment she awoke to the moment she finally gave up waiting and sank to the ground, the dress she wore stained, torn, and unrecognizable.
How cruel these human children were. They’d mocked her, teased her, and she kept her chin up throughout it all. But it was when her last pillar of support left that her spirit broke and she was forced to look at the damage that had been done to her.
One of the human children, a boy named Tomas, had called her a dog in a dress. The little girl had said nothing but Lem had felt the pain that turned over and over in her chest. When Tomas’ friend Harrison came back with a slur that was so offensive even Tomas gasped in shock, the girl’s chin stuck out in defiance of it, but he could see the tremble in her knees as she fought against the hurt of it.
All throughout the morning, she’d listened to the jabs and the barbs thrown her way, and she handled them like a soldier would gunfire. It was what happened on the playground that nearly caused him to react to their heinous behavior.
As soon as some of the chaperones had turned their backs on them, a few of the girls gathered in a circle around her, like a pack of hungry lions. They kept quiet, but they didn’t remain still. They pulled at her dress, a soft blue confection that had little flowers stitched in white thread all over it. One girl pulled at a sleeve so hard, it tore.
The little girl remained quiet even as the others pinched and tugged, ripped and tore, until part of the dress hung in the dirt, covering one worn leather shoe with the stained and tattered edge of a hem. When the bell rang, the others scattered, leaving her standing there alone.
“Grace? Grace Shelley, what in the world did you do to your dress? We’re taking photos in ten minutes! Oh, why does it always have to be you?” a teacher complained, grabbing her by her arm in a way that caused the little girl to flinch. “All of the other girls kept themselves pretty. You’re going to have to stand in the back of the class today.”
The little girl nodded, blinking rapidly to fight back the threat of tears. “Okay, Mrs. Mackey.”
“Honestly, I don’t understand why you just can’t be like everyone else. No one causes as much trouble as you do.”
“It wasn’t her fault,” a little boy shouted as he ran up to them. “I saw it. Michaela, Shannon, Tanya tore her dress.”
“You saw this happen and you didn’t do anything?” the teacher asked with skepticism.
“I was getting chewed out by Mr. Duncan! I told him what was going on but he didn’t do anything.”
“I doubt Mr. Duncan would have done nothing if someone was harassing Grace.”
“All of you guys do nothing about it!”
“If you raise your tone with me again, Mr. Hasselbeck, I will call your parents.”
“It’s okay, Graham,” the little girl said softly to her friend. “I’ll just stand in the back.”
“Then I’m gonna stand in the back, too.”
The teacher looked at the defiant boy’s face and shrugged. “You were going to be in the back anyway; you’re taller than the other kids.”
She dragged the two children with her towards their classroom, stepping on the strip of the little girl’s dress on the way and tearing it even more. She cursed under her breath at the sound of the fabric tearing and glared at the little girl, as if she had done something wrong.
Ugh, why can’t you just be normal like everyone else? Damn mongrel, I can’t stand seeing your face; you should have died with your mother. Her thoughts were icy in Lem’s mind, and he shook with quiet rage.
His vision drew in to tiny pinpoints of light and colors and he growled slightly. He moved closer to the teacher, so close he could see the line where her makeup split her face from her neck. He grazed over her shoulder, and she shivered, looking around as though she knew he was there, but she couldn’t see him.
You can’t stand seeing her face. Let’s see how you like seeing the things you fear the most every time you don’t see her.
The woman blinked as the words pinged inside her head. She looked down at the ground and screamed, jumping back and flailing her arms. The children beside her stepped out of her way, and she fell, crawling to a far wall and running her hands into her hair and scratching at her arms and face.
The little girl, undaunted by the sudden shift in behavior, stepped towards the teacher and took a hold of her hand. Th
e woman looked up at her face and flinched. The girl knew why, but she didn’t react the same way the teacher did. “It’s gonna be okay, Mrs. Mackey,” she said in a soft voice.
The teacher looked away and screamed, shaking her head. “They’re everywhere. They’re all over me.”
“Nothing is on you. Graham, go get help. See, Mrs. Mackey, Graham’s gonna get help and you’ll be okay.”
The boy took one look at his teacher lying on the ground, and at his friend kneeling beside her, holding onto her hand and took off in the opposite direction even as the rest of the classroom crowded around them to watch in morbid fascination.
The woman looked once more at the little girl and shut her eyes. “I don’t want to see anything anymore.”
With a gentle hand, the girl cradled her teacher’s face. “I know what that’s like. It’s gonna be okay.”
Once help arrived, the rumors and stories spread like a cancer among the children. Truth wasn’t important: sensationalism was. The history of the little girl turned a child helping a teacher into a child harming her. The ridicule she’d endured that morning was nothing compared to what she endured the rest of the day.
The jeers, the hair pulling, the accusations and innuendos made Lem seethe. He wanted to snap the necks of every single child who’d dared to turn her kind act into something worth hating. Was there no solace to be had by humanity for someone who was different?
At the end of the school day, as everyone went home, on buses with friends, in cars with parents who showed up on time, Grace stood apart from everyone else. Only one person remained, standing beside her protectively. With him beside her, she seemed to glow, content and complete.
But the minute his mother arrived and he left, the change was instantaneous. The light within her disappeared, her strength floating away as she sank to the ground. She was alone and exposed. No teachers came to check on her; no one seemed to care, and this angered him.
Every single tear that fell from her eyes onto the ground stained the concrete a dark grey. She sniffed, and then looked up. For a moment, he swore she was looking directly at him. Then he heard the quiet rumble of an engine growing louder and turned to see her father’s car approach.
