by Mark Lingane
"All right. Sorry. There, I've said it. Happy?"
"I'm not your judgment, or repentance, your salvation or damnation. I'm your deliverance."
She looked around. "What are you planning on doing?"
"Me? Nothing. I've delivered you here." I lowered my hands and indicated the garden. "The tree would like to discuss things with you. I made my peace, and accepted my punishment. Now it's your turn."
"No, it's the past. We can leave it behind. It's our time. This stupid experiment with the apes is over. Just like the snakes. How dumb an idea was that, making snakes into dinosaurs. Nearly as stupid as monkeys into people. This whole human being thing was only a test. That's the problem with Him: everything is a test. We are the pure creatures. It can be our planet."
I shook my head. "You forget your origins. I condemn you to stay here until the garden is fixed, until the tree is healed." I twisted the sword.
42
Eden faded away and I was left with screams and wails ringing in my ears.
"Where did she go?" Angelina said.
I stared at her. She seemed so slender and frail to me now. Her eyes flicked over my body. She gulped; leaving the clothes behind was probably a bad idea.
"She's up there."
Angelina struggled to wrest her eyes away from me, glancing for the shortest possible time into the skies. "Is there a heaven?" she asked.
"Not as such," I replied.
"But you said "up there.'"
"Symbolically. It's like a dimension shift. She's living another life. Think of the universe, and time and space, as a book that's been opened. It's now on your page. But if you press hard enough, sometimes you send your words through to another page."
Her face screwed up. She was having a lot of trouble following me. "Who wrote the book?"
"You all wrote it. Or are writing it."
"Can we flip to the last page to see how it ends?" She gave me a mischievous smile.
"No one knows the ending until they get there. And once it's all over, their page will be closed and the next will open. But their page will always be there. It's history. They will be remembered."
"But a book only has value when someone's reading it."
"Who says no one's reading it?" I shrugged. "Part of the process, part of the reward, is the creation. Everyone has to get their ideas out."
She stumbled over her words, trying to deal with the casual existentialism. In the end she shook her head and changed topic. "If you want to get her back," she said, indicating Laura, "then you need to, er, you know ..."
"But we won't be at the feet of an angel."
She looked up at my wings towering above us. "Well, it could be argued that an angel involved in any part of the process would count, but I'm not an expert."
"Fine. It seems wrong. I should be holding her."
"You will be. It's meant to be an act of love."
She couldn't stop her eyes roaming over my body. Her face was flushed. "Afterwards, could you see to, um ..." She slowly raised her hand as though she was asking permission.
"No. She's the only one for me."
"Fine, you'll need this," she said hurriedly, handing over a small knife. She let her eyes wander over me again, momentarily reaching out then stopping herself. "I'd thought I'd ask." She let out a long sigh, and gave me one final glance before walking away.
I stepped over to Laura. I could feel her heartbeat, and it was weak. Her skin was gray, and her breath almost gone. I lifted her up and cradled her in my arms. She wore nothing other than a sheer nightdress. I laid her upon the altar.
In the dance of the stars that rolled above us, while a bleak infinite looked down uncaringly, the moment of unification arose and we made our own little universe of forever. She arched her back and her head rolled. I could feel her heart stop as she exhaled one last time. I took her wrist and cut across the veins. Blood trickled out and fell onto the altar. There was an intense glow between us. The light grew stronger until it engulfed us completely, and then winked out.
I was left in human form. Laura's legs were wrapped around me and her body was draped over the stone. Her eyes were blank. Her mouth was open, and she lay still, not breathing.
"No, please. This was how it was supposed to happen. You were meant to come back." I stroked her face and felt the tears roll down my face. They fell onto her skin and sizzled as they touched. I held her lifeless body close, clutching her head against my chest.
"I've had the strangest dream," she murmured.
I released her, and a flood of joy swept through me. I kissed her on the forehead.
She looked around the church. "Where on earth are we?" She looked down at me, and her legs straddling my waist. "And what exactly do you think you're doing to me?" She half smiled. It was wrong, but her inclination to complain had diminished.
"I feel so ... alive," she said. A feather floated down and landed between us. "I did have a dream, didn't I?"
I smiled at her.
Could I stay? There was no choice; there was nowhere else I could go. But sometimes things just don't work out. Laura will die one day, and I will live on. That was the punishment of Eden. This time it'll be worse because I'll never forget her. But for now, I'll be by her side day-by-day, unchanging as the mountains. Then she will be gone. And what will greet me, what will I have left?
It will be an eternity of staring into the face of contemptible people doing depraved deeds as long as Eden is diseased. Secretly they're looking for the same thing, but in their own ways, that flash of light shining between them. But it's where I belong until the page is turned.
I have done wrong. I have done right.
But I am not good, neither am I evil.
I am not defined by my labels because I am me.
And I am free.
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Check out these other great novels by Mark Lingane
Para-noir-mal Detectives
Beyond Belief
Sucker
The Ellen Martin Disasters (Rom-Com Adventures)
Chasing Heart
Desert Heart
The Tesla Evolution (Young Adult Science Fiction)
Tesla
Decay
Faraday
Fusion
Mark Lingane writes, and has written, a lot over a long time. Not much of it is interesting. Even if it sounds interesting, it isn't. For those who are interested, further comprehensive and quality insights about his past, and future publications, might be found at: mark-mywords.co
You can even follow me on: @markLingane
