by Multiple
“What is it, Claire?” Ava asked.
“It’s from Daniel,” she said as she made her way over to the settee and burrowed herself among the pillows, under the watchful eye of the pink lioness.
“I’ll come back later.” Ava turned to go.
“No, stay. Sit here next to me and help me read it, please.”
Ava sat at the corner of the daybed, at an angle to Claire as she opened the letter and took a deep breath in, beginning to read silently.
My Love,
I thank you for the love you brought into my life, and I promise to use every day enjoying it, using this gift, even though you will not be by my side. I don’t want you to worry about me. You have brought my world back, and if I can’t have you, well, then this will have to be enough. It is more than most people get, anyway.
I’ve made the decision to never marry. There will never be another woman in my life but you. You have not asked for this, but I give it freely. The few days we had together are more than most men get in a lifetime. Perhaps someday we will be together again, in Heaven. Maybe I could teach painting? Would you still love me if I were white haired and wrinkled? Would you let this old man touch your body and hold you close? Would Father let us have each other someday again? Put in a good word for me. I promise to live a life so that I would make an excellent addition to the Guardianship staff. All in due time. Who knows when that will be? I’m just going to focus on that every day, and keep painting.
We really scared Josh. I could see it in his face. I think we were his first defeat. We were pretty powerful, you and I together. Look at what we did!
I hope they treat you like the precious jewel you are. I hope they understand how wonderful you have made me feel, Claire. I pray they make your life easy, that they shower you with love and affection, as I cannot. I hope that in time you come to accept our separation and you find meaning in your work there. I can’t believe Father would do you harm. Perhaps I’m naïve, but I just don’t see it.
But I miss you already, even as I’m writing this, listening to you in the next room packing…
Claire leaned back into the pillows and put the letter to her chest, sobbing. Ava moved closer and embraced her.
“Shhh. Shhh. It’s all right. It’s going to be all right, Claire. I’m so sorry.” Ava’s tone was warm and soothing, her strong little arms held onto Claire tightly.
At last, Claire broke away and continued to read the letter. Ava sat back to give her privacy.
If possible, send me word. Maybe Doris would help out. But don’t worry, I won’t expect it. You gave me everything you could. And for that I will be grateful for the rest of my life.
Take care, my love. Read your books and poems, and dream of me, dream of us, holding each other and of the love that still burns inside my heart. For I will have something most men cannot have. An angel will love me forever, long after my earthly life is over. That’s the greatest gift of all.
Love, Daniel
Claire’s breath was ragged, her cheeks streaked with tears again. She folded the letter up carefully and placed it back in the envelope. She tucked the letter under one of the pillows. It was her match to Daniel’s box of treasures under his pillow as a boy, hoping for a bright future.
Alone
Daniel awoke, the rose glow of sunrise warming his face and chest. His eyes burned in the light. He pulled himself up off the bed; he was alone. Of course I’m alone. He looked at the pillow where she used to wait for him to wake up. A few golden pieces of dust remained—the only physical part of their love that was left, except for the dull ache in his heart. And who knew how long that would take to fade? Maybe never.
He sighed and clambered out of bed, resting his forehead against the upper trim of the window frame. Staring out to the distant sunrise, he could hardly believe the hole in his heart, now that she was gone. And he wondered about a God who could do this to him, who would give him something so precious and then take it away, just like that. He’d thought somehow they would figure out a way to be together. But in the end, it was not to be.
He was pretty sure he couldn’t spend a lifetime without Claire, but he had promised and he intended to keep that promise. He just wasn’t too sure how he would get through today without her, as he could taste her still, feel her young body giving herself up to him so freely. He could still smell the lavender and citrus of her breath, of her hair, and the salty tears he fed on over the course of their last night together. When he closed his eyes, he felt like she was still there next to him, naked, her heart beating like a kettledrum in her small body.
Perhaps this would be enough for today. How he wished this sunrise could be the start of their life together and not the back cover of a good book. He knew Claire didn’t make sunrises and sunsets—this was Father’s cruel shell game. He takes Claire; he gives me this sunrise in return. This was not a fair trade, but the only one offered.
His memories were his, totally his, as long as his brain held up. Daniel looked around him at the white candles he used to light the room so he could see the wonder of her body, and the pleasure of their lovemaking forever etched on that face he would never forget. He wanted to be able to remember every detail and hoped the image of her face would the last thing he saw before he died.
Home
Claire had a tearful reunion with Mother the next morning. They’d had no word yet on what she was to do, so Mother suggested she write something, instead of reading one of her novels.
“Write what you learned. Tell us the story of your experience there. How would you counsel a young angel about to take her first charge?”
The request felt reasonable, except Claire’s heart wasn’t into anything. She wasn’t sure what advice she would give. And it was difficult to think about it, not knowing what the future held for her.
“Why do you think your human memories don’t last when you pass through as a Guardian?” Mother had asked her.
“So we won’t spend immortality searching for them again,” Claire answered.
“Yes,” Mother answered as she closed her eyes. “It’s Father’s blessing, removing all hurt, all regret, all knowledge of the pain in the dying.”
“But there’s something I have never shared with you. I remember some things. I’m sure they are about my life as a human.”
Mother’s stern eyes fastened on Claire’s. “That’s just not possible, Claire.”
“But it’s true. I never told you, but I remember—my—death.”
Mother looked at her bony hands folded in front of her. “Father has talked to me about what we are to do with you. He’s pained, seeing you so miserable.”
Claire nodded. I’m the one feeling the pain.
“You have to move your human memories to the back of the screen.” At Claire’s wide-eyed expression, she added, “You don’t have to send them away, Claire, even if you could. Today I think you can’t.” Mother replaced her look of concern with the placid smile she was known for. “Just move them to the back.”
Claire stared at the embroidery at her hemline.
“And if you can’t do that, the only other option is to volunteer for the Wash.”
At the mere mention of the Wash, Claire was jolted to action. They could erase all her memory of Daniel forever in that room. She’d seen an angel or two led there in tears, and now she knew why. Could they make her do it?
She darted from Mother’s office and down the stairs out into the pathway. She ran around the front of the classrooms, past the teaching garden, around the back of the greenhouses, and rammed into the metal gate at the cemetery. She pressed her face through the bars until it hurt, but could not see them—see the stones. How she wished her powers of disappear and transport worked in Heaven. She was grounded behind the gate, as any human woman would be. She fell to her knees. Am I going to be able to do this? Am I seeking death? She wondered, just wondered, what a white stone would look like with her name on it. She reached through the bars of the
gate, as if she could touch the cold granite of those markers. What would my symbol be? Not a harp, not a rose or music notes…
“It was going to be a shooting star.”
Claire whirled around to find Father standing behind her. His eyes were filled with pain and compassion. He seemed to drain all the hurt from her soul. She stood and ran into his arms.
“I won’t do the Wash. I can’t do that.” Claire said into his large chest.
“Nor will I make you, my precious little star.” He held her tightly and let her cry. He stroked the top of her head, murmuring things to her to soothe her anguish. Claire felt the calming effect he had on her and was grateful.
He parted them, holding her face between his two large hands, hands that were warm. He stared at her, hesitant to speak. “My precious little one, born of light and made to love,” he said tenderly. He drew her into his chest again and held her tight. “You are a wonder, even to me.”
Claire broke away and looked up at him. “Father, don’t make me wash it all away. Even if it’s the pain, I will live with it for eternity. Don’t make me give up these memories.”
“Child, my little angel child.”
“What’s going to happen to me? Please tell me.” She looked at the turquoise pools of love she used to lose herself in.
He sighed and dropped his arms to the sides.
“If it’s real you want, it’s real you’ll have, my dear.”
She couldn’t believe what she heard. He nodded as he smiled. Recognition of his gift overtook Claire like a warm wave.
“Remember, Claire. I can only make you human. Only Daniel can make you real.”
“I can go back?”
“If that is truly what your heart desires.”
“Oh, thank you. Thank you.”
She hugged him, suddenly feeling a change coming over her body as she looked at her hands and felt her legs tingle. She felt little capillaries all over her skin, blood pumping so loud it hurt her ears.
“Hurry, pack your things. I’ll have Doris deliver you to him. Go, save each other, Claire.”
She started to run, then turned back on the path, seeing the bright whiteness of Father’s form move toward the gate.
“Father, one more thing.”
He turned quickly, eyes wide. She could see he was surprised.
“Actually, I have two things.”
Father looked down, with his hands on his hips and shook his head.
Her chest heaving, she blurted out, “Can you give Ava my room? Can she take care of Daniel’s paintings?”
“Done. What else?”
“Will I ever see you again?”
“Does it really matter, Claire?”
She walked back to him and stood facing the fullness of his eternal body. “Yes, Father. It matters. What you do here matters. It always has and it always will.”
She turned and began to leave, leaving a wafting of angel dust in her wake. She looked back to catch one more glimpse of Father, who leaned his head back, and with outstretched arms, let the golden particles of dust fall on his face as he laughed in the sunlight.
Doris had driven frantically across town several times. Claire had her nose pressed against the steamy windows of the transport, looking for some glimpse of the dark haired man who had stolen her heart. He hadn’t been at the planetarium; he wasn’t at his house or in the garden behind. He wasn’t in the bookstore or at the gallery. He wasn’t at the Laundromat, nor at the deserted Farmer’s Market, not at the coffee house on 4th Street, or the little Latin disco filling up with people.
“Where should he be? We’ve checked everywhere.” Claire’s fingers and white knuckles gripped the back of the transport front seat.
“Any place you went with him we didn’t see today? How about a winery?”
“No, I don’t think so, Doris. It’s too late. He wouldn’t go there alone. I hope Josh didn’t get to him. What if I’m too late? After all this—oh my God—I’m too late!”
“Claire, think about it. Where did you spend your last night together?” Doris’ red hair was even redder today. Her eyes sparkled. She was into the hunt.
“The beach. Oh my God. He’s at the beach!”
Doris laid her foot into the pedal of the transport like her life depended on it. The vehicle leaped forward, emitting a cloud of light grey smoke. For the first time, there was a human woman occupying the transport’s back seat.
At last they came to the beach where Claire had ascended the stairway to Heaven. Golden yellow and peach clouds were rapidly turning deep rose and purple. Sunlight was making a hasty retreat. That’s when she saw him.
“There he is, Doris!” Claire leapt from the transport before it stopped. She almost stumbled, then righted herself and made it up the crest of the sand dune covered in ice plants and seaweed.
“Hey, kid!” Doris quickly stood up and out of the cab, yelling to Claire over the top of the roof.
Claire stopped for a moment to listen to her farewell, grinning from ear to ear.
“Have a great life, OK? You’re doing the right thing. Who knows, maybe someday I’ll join you!” Doris smiled and waved to Claire, who immediately turned and resumed her run to the beach.
Claire ran with new legs. Her jellies hurt. Little pieces of sea grass and sticks of driftwood got stuck inside. The pinching pain was delicious. The duffel was getting heavy too. She was out of breath as she scampered through the ice plant, trying not to fall. The last vestiges of sunlight shone on the waves, buckets of the deep yellow gold and copper spilling onto the beach.
She could see Daniel watching the sun set, sitting with his legs spread, playing with a pattern in the sand with a stick. He wouldn’t be able to hear her running on human legs. He couldn’t hear her breathe as her chest gasped for air, almost making her cough, or hear her drop the duffel from exhaustion. She tripped and fell to her knees, scraping her knees on the sand, then laughed at the sensation. So this is pain. It isn’t so bad. Oh, I love how it feels!
She clambered to her feet, and the wind whipped at her flowered dress as she laughed at the bronze clouds, the water, the way Daniel’s hair blew in the wind, and the jacket that billowed out behind him like a sail. She was a child of the earth, after all. All these visions belonged to her now. This was all now part of her life, the miracle of her wonderful human life.
She stopped a few feet behind him and sobered, walking with caution. How do I surprise him? What do I say? She gave up. No plans. Just live.
She bent down, placing her hands over his eyes. How many days and nights had she daydreamed about this, flesh on flesh? She inhaled, feeling his warm face under her fingertips, feeling him jump in recognition. Her thighs hugged the outsides of his thighs, her mound pressing into the small of his back. All her angelic self-consciousness was gone. She inhaled the wonderful scent of her man like it was the first breath of life. The chemistry between them was stronger than all the angel dust she could generate in Heaven.
He grabbed her wrists. In an instant he was on his knees and they faced each other.
“Claire! You came back. But—”
She was kissing him, unwilling to answer yet. He grabbed her arms again and pulled her back to face him, then looked straight into her eyes. She drank in his beautiful gaze. His beautiful, beautiful brown eyes. Not black.
“How much time do we have?” His palms went to the sides of her face. His eyebrows arched, two little worry lines between them. He kissed her with tenderness as she inhaled his lime aftershave and the taste of his tongue on her lips.
“We have all the time in this lifetime, Daniel. I am real at last. I’m human.” Her tears flowed freely. He was kissing them away, saying things she couldn’t understand, but she was nodding, agreeing to everything he said, comprehending without knowing a word of it. “Anything, Daniel. Yes, Daniel, my love.”
On the way back to the car, they would take two or three steps, and then stop and kiss, hug eac
h other, and laugh until their insides hurt. Her duffel was slung over his shoulder. With locked arms and legs, touching as much as possible, tripping over each other they made it to the car. The blustery early night air was refreshing. It was a perfect backdrop to a day that had made all things possible again.
He leaned her against the side of his car, pressing himself the full length of her body. She could tell he was overcome with emotion as she heard what sounded like a sob when he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed so tight she could hardly breathe.
“Where do you want to go?” He continued to press into her with urgency. She could see in his eyes he would take her to Paris if she asked. But she didn’t need to go that far.
“Home, Daniel. I want to go to our home.”
As they drove, they held hands, interlocking fingers and kissing each other with tenderness. Several times he had to stop at the side of the road to finish a kiss that threatened to run them into traffic. When they arrived at the house, they stayed in the car where he leaned over the center console to plant kisses down her neck. Her dress had migrated way above her knees. He filled her panties with searching fingers. His thumb focused on the little hardened knob at the top of her sex. She arched, throwing her head back between the seats. He spread her knees, and she gave no resistance.
She thought for a second that her first lovemaking as a human might be in the front seat of his car, but the tight quarters became laughable. He got out, extending a hand to peel her out of the front seat and then splayed her against the car door, pressing himself against her again.
She felt his growing hardness as her hands explored him, lingering to smooth the length of him and then squeeze. They stood together, breathing heavily. He reached around her waist and drew her to him tight, ravishing her with hot kisses. Their hands wandered, seeking each other’s flesh like they had been separated for centuries.
“Come. Let’s go inside,” he urged. He fumbled with his keys at the front door and dropped them, cursing. She saw this as an opportunity and leaned forward, pressing her breasts against his back, and as he straightened, she slid her hands into the front of his pants. He jumped. She bit his neck and squeezed him. She raised his shirt from behind and kissed all the way up his spine as she attempted to undo his belt buckle. This made him chuckle.
