Sinfully Supernatural

by Multiple

  Once a warm room where a young angel would tell stories of the human world to the rapt attention of the old man she felt closer to than anyone else in the universe, now the space chilled her to the bone. Claire’s happy memories collided with the gaping hole she felt in her chest.

  Of course they had to talk. She’d been so wrapped up with how miserable she felt, she’d temporarily forgotten about the consequences of her indiscretions with Daniel. She shivered, her teeth chattering.

  “Sit here, child.” He pointed to the leather chair, warmed by the fireplace nearby. It was the chair she used to sit in during their long afternoon chats, like the day she created her first dust mixture or the morning she returned from her first successful mission. He made a point to be available to her, avidly listening to her theories on humans and why they behaved as they did. Claire found it curious how fascinated he was with all his creations.

  Father’s tall statuesque form was motionless as he looked out the rosette window, his face awash in color and light, overseeing the Guardianship and the activity of the day spread out in front of him. He sighed.

  Here it comes.

  “I am gravely disappointed in you, Claire. I thought you were better prepared for this sort of mission.” He turned around to look at her.

  Claire tried to stuff the emotions raging in her chest, but at last gave up. Overwhelmed, she dropped to his feet. “I am so sorry. Your trust and faith in me was all I ever had. But for just a few days, Father, I felt as if…as if…I were…” She looked up at him.

  “Human,” he finished for her. “You actually thought you could live like a human? You’re an angel, Claire. Your human life was over years ago. You know this.” His voice was resolute, unwavering.

  Claire knew it was absolutely the terrible truth. She nodded, wiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hands. She remained at his feet, while Father continued to stand gazing through the window. He touched the top of her head, then pulled his hand away and did not utter a word.

  There was a light rap at the side door.

  “Come in,” Father’s deep melodic voice consumed the whole room, rattling the windows just enough to make Claire flinch.

  “Sorry, sir, this is for Claire.”

  When she spotted Father’s personal assistant, a steaming mug in his hand, her mood lightened. He handed her a hot chocolate, filled to overflowing with whipped cream. Claire had enjoyed this ritual bestowed upon her many times before in Father’s office. Cedric was eternally kind to her, and appeared to be much older than most of the other angels in the Guardianship. His silver hair glistened in the sunlight as his bent frame stooped lower in a bow. He rose and extended the warm mug to Claire and gave her a private wink.

  “Welcome back, Claire. So glad you have returned to us at last.”

  “Oh, thank you, Cedric.” She immediately stood, taking the mug with a smile. Her hands were cold and the heat felt good. She inhaled the sweet warm mixture with eyes closed, just like she always did. Melted whipped cream spilled onto the white marble floor and on Claire’s dress.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Cedric began. “I just wanted to help…”

  Claire shook her head. “No, I’m grateful. Don’t worry about it.”

  Instantly on his knees, Cedric produced a damp rag and wiped clean the white marble floor and then looked at Claire’s dress, streaked with two long brown lines.

  “Cedric, I need a private word or two with Claire. We aren’t finished,” Father said with irritation. The bony assistant nodded and bowed, heading backwards toward the exit. Claire caught a conspiring smile and wink just before he disappeared behind the doorway. Father didn’t notice.

  She mused at this small kindness, which warmed her heart as well as her hands, and felt a swelling of courage in her chest. Recalling the day she met Josh at the café when he made her spill her hot chocolate, she remembered how she found the courage then to stand up to the dark angel. She suddenly felt hopeful, although she had to admit, she missed the battle between the dark and light forces already. Giving up and retreating to safety was never her plan. Claire thought they could win the war. Now she was beginning to doubt whether or not she made the right decision to return.

  Did I give up too soon? I should have died fighting.

  “Please.” Father motioned her to sit again, then sat across from her in the other leather chair. He watched the fire and sighed. Behind him, ancient symbols carved in the dark grain of his old desk were highlighted with sunlight. They almost seemed to dance.

  Claire made a big show of loudly slurping the white topping as Father’s eyebrows arched up. She didn’t care how much of it spilled onto her dress now. They’d just wash and send it back tomorrow, perfectly white, or get her a new one. But then of course she wouldn’t want a new one. It wouldn’t smell like Daniel anymore. It wouldn’t be the dress he pressed close to his chest when he said goodbye this morning. No, this dress would never be laundered. It would stay in her closet in her room, stains and all, marked forever with her tears.

  She sat before Father and tried to compose herself. How nice it would be to just take a long nap, to wake up and find this all had been a bad dream. That she was in fact a real woman, sleeping safely in Daniel’s strong arms, suffering a nightmare that she had turned into an angel and had to return home to Heaven.

  Father was studying her.

  “Your days of being a Guardian are over, Claire. I need you to accept that as soon as you can.” He added softly, “I’m sorry it worked out this way for you. In time, you will mend.”

  She nodded. She was going to try very hard to feel cold inside to quell the pain. Then later, she might start to feel alive again.

  “We have to find something useful for you here. Mother has some good ideas. Perhaps a teaching position, or work in the Playhouse? Maybe the library?” He didn’t make eye contact so did not see the stare Claire drilled into him.

  At last, Claire worked up the nerve to speak. “I have a question.”

  Father looked slightly irritated with the request. “Yes, what is it?”

  “You haven’t once said anything about all the rules I broke. I understood that perhaps I would be retired, banished, or buried in your cemetery out behind the greenhouses.”

  “No, those angels didn’t come back. They have gone dark.”

  “What do you mean, they didn’t come back? They are buried there, aren’t they?”

  “No, they’re not. The white stones are reminders. For me.”

  Claire looked up at his face, puzzled.

  “I couldn’t just let them leave, be gone. I wanted to remember them, all of them. Over the space of time, there have been only a few.”

  “Like Angela,” Claire whispered as she began to understand.

  “Exactly.”

  “I saw her, you know. She came back to say goodbye to me. She gave me her bag.”

  “Yes. I knew.”

  “So those angels are still alive?”

  “Alive? No, but you’re not alive either, Claire. Do they exist, is that what you mean?”

  She nodded.

  “Yes. Somewhere, but out of my reach right now.” He winced as he continued. “They choose not to be found right now.”

  “So they can come back?”

  He smiled. “All things are possible. You know this, my dear.”

  She saw the ancient face of a truly supreme being, secure, satisfied, and confident in his work. When his eyes fell upon her she felt ignited, almost human. He always had that affect on her.

  Then she remembered herself—the reason for this meeting—and grew sad. “Except for a life with Daniel,” she whispered.

  “Only as a dark angel. Do you want that? Really want that?” He was furrowing the large brow on his smooth ageless face.

  Claire knew in her bones he could make it happen. He could just snap his fingers and she would be right back in the human world, but as a dark angel.

 
It took every ounce of her spirit to give him an answer.

  “No.”

  “The human world is intoxicating. I should know. I made it that way.” His steel blue eyes bored into Claire, and she saw in them ancient battles, heard cries of pain and joy. The rhythm of life was all around him. And he let her see it.

  “I give humans choice, free will. I give angels the same, but each of you are two different sides of the same coin. Each of you has different choices available.” He got up, came to the end of the desk and sat on the edge in front of Claire. One knee was bent, the other straight, supporting his frame. Claire bowed her head and focused on her chocolate.

  “You were supposed to go down to the human world and save this man, which you did. He probably won’t ever be in danger of doing himself harm again. But he knows about us now. It’s supposed to be his faith that saves him, that makes him strive to be a better man. He’s put his faith in an angel. I wanted him to believe, not know. Do you see the difference? In a way, Claire, you’ve robbed him of that. You’ve robbed him of his faith.”

  Claire felt punched. “We fell in love!”

  He stood up quickly, walked over in front of Claire, his scowling face leaning into her. “How dare you! How dare you place your own selfish needs above what we do here in the Guardianship. I chose you to become a Guardian because I saw in you a special quality all the angels have here, the capacity to serve, to help humans understand the power and beauty of life. Guardians serve unselfishly, wishing nothing for themselves. What you’ve brought this man is a relationship of the flesh, Claire. You gave him your body. He gets his inspiration from loving you, an angel. That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

  Claire saw something in Father’s logic. A flaw. A fatal flaw.

  “Excuse me, sir. I need to understand something. You created the choices; you created the attractions. You created my body and then took that life away from me. You took me from my parents. I know they must have grieved. But I don’t know anything else about them—you wiped clean every ounce of my memories; you did this because you chose me to serve.” She stood up.

  “And I have served you, Father. I have saved more humans than any of the angels here, without one single failure. I have inspired others at the Guardianship to be better angels. I have lived with their gossip and their criticism of my ways and of me. I have had my room searched and my personal things borrowed without permission. And I have never complained about any of it.”

  The look on Father’s face was a mixture of anger and shock. His eyes clouded over, began to water.

  “And I have given up the love of a man. You created that in me. You made that possible, gave me the choice. Now you want to take that away from me as well?” Claire looked at her feet, then back up to Father’s face.

  “Is it necessary that you sacrifice me for your Guardianship? Because it isn’t my Guardianship. It’s yours. Who is the selfish one now?” She stepped closer and said to him softly, “It’s time to let me go.”

  “No,” He whispered. “Your work is here.”

  “No, Father, my work here is done. The battle isn’t in Heaven. The battle is down in the human world, where I belong.” Claire stepped back away from Father’s imposing figure, suddenly with more courage than she’d ever known. “I have done something you have not. For a few days I lived and loved as a human. I found my soul mate. That’s where I belong.”

  Father went over to the window again, his back to her, and sighed.

  Claire carefully continued, “You know my thoughts, you know the choice I’d make if I could, truly could. If we really do have free will here, I’m asking you to prove it.”

  He turned to face her and quietly gave the edict that would ring in her ears for the next several hours. “But you are back here. You made your choice. You are a Guardian Angel. Your choices are to have your memories washed or bear the burden of your actions every day as you seek to find a way to contribute. But here you will remain for all eternity. It isn’t useful to think otherwise, Claire.”

  The Letter

  The four steps up to the lobby entrance at her dormitory seemed higher than Claire remembered. She used to take them two or three at a time, once doing all four in one leap. Not today, though. She took each step with deliberate, careful movements, as if in pain, her yellow duffel bag slung over her right shoulder. Though nearly empty, it still felt heavy.

  The lobby was full of angels. They lounged in all positions, reading or whispering to each other in small groups, relaxing on white couches in front of the stone fireplace mantle. Many of them looked up. Several pairs of eyes followed Claire through the lobby and up the grand curved staircase. Claire felt their stares on her back with each painful step.

  Upstairs, the floor was deserted and eerily quiet, like the evening Claire left. Most angels were in classes. She gripped the doorknob, which was never locked, and burst into her old room, unsure whether it felt like a sanctuary or prison. Sunlight poured in from a small window over the settee filled with colorful pillows, her favorite reading place, as well as through the clouds overhead. Dropping her yellow bag with a thud, she sighed as she noted the first of Daniel’s large paintings hanging from a skyhook next to the window. It was the one she touched at the gallery. The pink lioness and brightly colored birds perched on multi-shades of thick green leaves. She turned around, soaking up the vision—her walls dripping with the splash of colorful paintings, the outpouring of Daniel’s soul. She felt the lack of him there beside her and started to cry. She loved his artwork, but missed the man.

  It seemed like long ago her fingertips had touched his red lips and traced the little laugh line at the right side of his mouth. She bent and kissed the painting. The acrylic surface gave back its sharp scent in rebuke. Daniel’s talent was there before her, but the scent of his body was relegated to her memory.

  Next she walked into the white marble bathroom and turned on the hot water of the pedestal tub. From her yellow bag she brought out lavender gel and poured a healthy dose into the steaming bath, like creating a witches’ cauldron. She lit the Chanel white pillar candle Daniel had bought her. It sputtered on the white marble vanity. Carefully removing her dress, she hung it up in the closet, inside out. She slipped off her angel-issue black slippers with the pearl button.

  She eased her naked body into the warm, sudsy water and leaned back against the tub wall. She sighed, lost in the sensuality of the steaming liquid and the soothing lavender scent. Turning her head slightly to view the burning candle, she remembered the white candle altar in Daniel’s bedroom that first night they slept together as man and woman. She decided that she would burn a white pillar every night, for however long she had in the Guardianship, and would sit in the dark, in the warm bath, creating a new ritual that might last for centuries. Then she could pretend she was human again. She could star in her own dream fantasy. The candle made fluttering sounds like the wings of a small bird.

  There was a rap on the door.

  “I’m in the tub.” She thought they would leave her alone, at least tonight.

  “Claire, it’s Ava. Can I come in?” The young angel’s voice floated through the door.

  “Oh, Ava, yes, please.” Claire suddenly remembered her friend.

  A young blonde angel with a long French braid walked through the open bathroom door and gave Claire a kiss on the forehead. Ava smiled. Her eyelet lace top had been embroidered with yellow daisies and sunflowers.

  “What’s so funny?” Claire asked. Then, as she looked down, she saw bubbles everywhere, overflowing onto the floor. She grinned at the mess. “Oh, I see. I don’t care anymore.” She leaned back again and closed her eyes, letting out a long sigh.

  Ava giggled. “So how was Father?”

  Claire scrunched up her face but kept her eyes closed. “Not one of our most pleasant conversations. I probably went a little too far.” She moved her legs back and forth under water. “Truth is, I got pretty angry with him.”

&n
bsp; “Oh. Um, is everything all right, then?”

  “No. And I don’t think it could be all right. I’m still here, but I have no idea what he’s going to do with me.”

  “Can’t believe you got angry with Father. Don’t think I’ve ever heard of that happening before.”

  “Well, I broke most of the big rules. Might as well break them all, I guess.” She slowly opened her eyes to take in her rosy-cheeked friend.

  “So, can I ask you what happened, down there?” Ava pointed to the floor.

  “I don’t think they want me to tell you. The gist of it is I fell in love with him. I fell in love with Daniel.” Claire’s voice trailed off to a whisper. Her eyes filled with tears.

  “I’m so sorry, Claire. What happened to him?”

  “He’s fine. He’s got the rest of his life ahead of him. He’ll probably get married, have kids. He’s going to be fine.” Claire looked at her pink fingers holding onto the sides of the tub. In a whisper, she said, “He’ll be fine without me.”

  Ava paused before speaking. “So he didn’t go dark?”

  “No. Did someone say that?” Claire sat up swiftly, eyes wide, oblivious to her lack of modesty.

  “I just thought maybe that’s why you came back.”

  Claire sighed and eased back down into the warm bubbles. “No, I came back because he asked me to. Daniel’s stronger than I am, Ava. I was the one in danger of turning dark, not him. He convinced me to come home. He saved my life.”

  “And now what?”

  “And now I’m completely miserable.”

  The water had turned cold, so Claire got out of the tub, dried off, and put on another gown. She started to unpack her duffel when she found a letter in the bottom of the bag, sealed, with her name on it, written in Daniel’s distinctive scrawl. Her fingers touched the paper where his pen had been. She smelled the cream vellum of the envelope and closed her eyes. Yes, his lemon aftershave scent was there. She wondered how long it would last.