Obsession

by Buchbinder, Sharon

  The plan had been to tell the congregation all contributions went to help poor people in Africa. They were supposed to pocket the money, show them photos of grateful natives, and share thank you notes from adorable “children.” Cash in hand, they would leave town in the middle of the night, rich and happy. Miriam’s unexpected pregnancy put those plans on hold. Zeke had been furious, telling her she’d done it on purpose, screwed up their timing. He beat her daily. Despite her earlier yearnings, her fear of Zeke outweighed the desire to have a child. She prayed for a miscarriage, but the tenacious child had held on for the entire nine months. Angie’s birth changed everything.

  The storefront became a real church, and they bought a chicken farm. Things were quiet. Until Zeke’s seizures became more frequent, and the Lord began speaking to him. God told her husband to build a town in Mexico. He prophesied and foretold, and when Angie got pregnant and came home to get clean and sober, Zeke had a massive seizure. He awoke filled with the power of the Lord and a sense of urgency. They had to prepare for their move to Mexico. End Days were coming, and Angie was carrying the Chosen One.

  Miriam shook her head. How had that old goat recognized the child’s special powers? Yes, she saw the marks on the baby’s hands, the stigmata. But palm lines could be interpreted however you wanted. Until the baby healed her on the plane ride, she had not believed he was really the Chosen One. And he belonged to her. With Jake at her side, she would rule Edmondsville and eventually, the world.

  But right now, she had to take care of Brother Aaron.

  ****

  Zeke paused at the entry of the great room and clung to the wall. When he took a deep breath, a painful stitch shot through his side. Bitches must have broken his ribs. He took shallow panting breaths and glanced up at the stage. What the—

  Brother Aaron stood in front of the throne. Next to him was a growing mound of rifles, handguns, and ammunition.

  “That’s right, it’s time to lay down our arms.”

  A woman placed a handgun on the stockpile. “Thank you for saving us from this insanity.”

  Insanity? What were they talking about?

  Sister Anne took the stage alongside Brother Aaron. “We are farmers, not warriors. We want to live here in peace.”

  Miriam was right. Aaron was a traitor. He tried to shout out, to tell his congregation to pick up their guns, fight the Philistines, but his voice came out in a hoarse whisper. “Stop.”

  The former Sheriff of Wicomico County and Edmondsville Chief of Security mounted the steps, his rifle in hand and his handgun still holstered. A wave of relief washed over Zeke. Thank God. Soon all would be right again.

  The former lawman placed both of his weapons on the stack. “Let us beat our swords into plowshares.”

  “No,” Zeke whispered. “Not you, too.”

  “Is that everyone’s weapons?” Brother Aaron asked.

  “No.” Miriam climbed the steps, the child glued to her hip. “I have one and I know how to use it.” She whipped the gun out of her pocket and pointed at the big man. The gun clicked. Nothing happened.

  A hush fell over the crowd.

  She shook the weapon and raised the gun again.

  Zeke found his voice, “Miriam, don’t!”

  She spotted him in the back of the room. “This is all your fault.”

  Brother Aaron rushed off the stage, pushing his wife ahead of him.

  “Grab her,” Zeke ordered. Panicked, the crowd surged past him, buffeting him like a tidal wave.

  Jake wailed and Miriam took aim at Zeke.

  The bullet whizzed by his ear. He ducked behind the wall and hobbled down the corridor to the outside. He hoped to find a place to hide out by the solar panels, somewhere, anywhere away from his insane wife.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Angie gasped and clutched at Alejandro once she was out of the tunnel. She couldn’t get the sight of the dead Tarahumarans out of her mind. Piled up like broken dolls, the men’s white loincloths were covered in slime and their bright colored shirts were splattered with dried blood. And the smell, she’d never get that smell out of her nose. She gagged, turned her head, and vomited.

  Alejandro held her hair away from her face and rubbed her back. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

  When she stopped retching, he handed her a canteen of water. “The missing man, Mina’s father, I think he may be in there with the scouts. There’s a blanket. Rolled up. Smells awful.”

  “Julio,” he shouted. “Your missing men. Their bodies are in that tunnel.” He turned to Angie. “I have no idea of what they do with their dead, but at least they should know where they are.”

  Angie finally stopped shaking and took a swig of water. It was as if she’d found Janice all over again, only this time there were three bodies. She shuddered. “Their instincts were right. There are ghosts in there.”

  A thwup-thwup-thwup sound overhead alerted everyone to the arrival of Isabel’s private chopper. As it set down, wind from the propellers blew up dust and dirt, forcing everyone to cover their eyes.

  Alejandro shouted. “Our chariot awaits us.”

  The pilot threw the door open. “Storm front coming in,” he bellowed. “We gotta move now.”

  Crouching low, Angie ran and leaped into the vehicle.

  Alejandro leaped in behind her, followed by Isabel. The boss lady jumped into the seat next to the pilot and grabbed a set of earphones.

  Angie looked around the cabin. “Is this thing safe?”

  Isabel smiled and yelled, “Chica, this is a military grade Huey, combat ready.”

  The sky became slate gray and lightning crackled in the distance. “Let’s roll.”

  The Huey lifted, and Angie’s stomach lurched. Lucky it was already empty. She put on the headphones, and Alejandro showed her how to key the mike. “How will we land?”

  “We won’t,” Isabel said. “We’re getting dropped in by the solar panels. It’s the flattest spot. You’ll have to climb down a ladder.”

  Angie closed her eyes and prayed.

  God, if you really exist, I need your help now.

  ****

  Zeke hid behind a solar panel. If he could just catch his breath. The wind began to rise, and electricity crackled in the air. Lightning streaked across the sky, moving closer to the bluff. He huddled under a panel. A baby howled.

  Shit.

  She was nearby.

  “Zeke, I know you’re out here,” Miriam called. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” She giggled, a high crazed laugh. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

  The baby wailed, inconsolable.

  He attempted to become one with the pole. A bullet whizzed by, missing him, but pinging off metal a few feet away.

  “If you come out, I’ll tell you a secret.”

  He’d talk to her. From behind the post. “What secret?”

  “Betcha want to know why you’ve been having those strange visions.”

  “It was you!”

  Miriam laughed like a hyena. “Think again.”

  Jake wailed. “My love, please, you’re upsetting the Chosen One.”

  “Don’t worry about him. Actually, maybe you should be worried about him.”

  He nearly jumped out of his skin. She was closer.

  “You really want to know this secret.” Miriam snickered and shifted the baby on her hip.

  “I don’t want to die for it.”

  “Think about it. Why did every woman except me turn into a demon that only you could see?”

  She was plucking at his last nerve. “Was it LSD? Peyote? Some other drug?”

  “Idiot. It was the baby. Every one of them had held Jake before you tried to breed with them.”

  Was she saying the Chosen One had turned all of Zeke’s desires inside out and created demons before his very eyes? Preposterous. Everything he’d done had been for the Chosen One.

  His wife was stark, raving mad.

  Time to turn on the charm and get the gun and
the baby away from her. He put his hands up and stepped out from behind the pole. She was ten feet away and stared right at him.

  “Miriam, please. Be reasonable. ”

  She waggled the handgun at him and spoke to the sobbing baby. “Hear that, Jake? He wants me to be reasonable.” She shot at the ground by his foot. “How’s that?”

  He jumped, grabbed his ribs and moaned. “My darling.”

  The sky roared with the sounds of a helicopter. Miriam looked up. He raced behind another pillar. With each move, it felt as if someone was stabbing him in the chest. He had to keep going. Or he was a dead man.

  ****

  Alejandro saw Miriam with the baby and motioned to the pilot to let them down as close as possible to the forest of solar panels. He dropped, rolled, and came up with his weapon drawn, taking aim at the woman. But she held the baby right in front of her. He couldn’t take a shot without risking the child’s life.

  Angie fell to the ground beside him, and a thunderclap shook the solar panels. The helicopter lurched, lunged sideways, and finally rose. The pilot banked away from the top of the bluff, leaving the two of them alone facing off with Miriam and the baby.

  Angie froze in place beside him. “What are we going to do?”

  “Well, if it isn’t my darling daughter and some new beau. Nice of you to drop in, Jezebel.” She pointed the gun at Angie. “Don’t even think of trying to shoot me.”

  “Mommy, please don’t hurt Jake.” Angie threw her weapon down. “I’m unarmed.”

  “What about lover boy?” Miriam shouted over the rumble of thunder.

  Alejandro tossed his weapon on the ground. The moment gunmetal hit a rock, Zeke materialized out of the forest of solar panel posts.

  “Miriam, stop—”

  She wheeled on her husband and pulled the trigger. The gun roared. His face a mask of shock and surprise, Zeke looked down and grabbed his chest. Blood spurted between his fingers. His mouth opened and closed, and he fell face down on the ground.

  “Now who’s in charge?” She cackled, and Jake wailed. “Who’s next?”

  Alejandro jumped in front of Angie. The muzzle flashed. He caught the bullet in his shoulder, flew backwards, and landed on the ground. To his horror, the muzzle flashed again. Angie collapsed on top of him. Thunder roared and the sky turned white.

  ****

  A thick quilt of silence enveloped Angie. Alert and pain free, she opened her eyes and floated over the earth. It felt as if she could reach down and touch the players in the scene below. Her father lay covered in blood, her lover was pinned under her own mortal body. This was it. No more hallucinations, no more religious delusions—she was dead. And had failed to extract her son out of her psychotic mother’s clutches.

  Angie choked back a sob and slid deeper into her well of despair, the black walls surrounding and closing in on her. What happened to her guardian angel, Metatron? Was God punishing her for her sins? Her logical self, her lawyer’s brain objected to the notion of any God, much less one with enough time on his hands to single out one poor addict in recovery who wanted to save her son’s life. If there was a God, why wasn’t he here, at her side, smiting her mother? If God was all powerful, why couldn’t he help her up, not hammer her down? Hadn’t she paid with her miserable childhood? Why, oh why, did Jake have to pay for her sins? She wailed in grief, but no sounds emerged.

  Lightning flashed, and Metatron appeared before her. Sparks crackling off the top of his head and flames shooting from his flapping wings. He grabbed Angie by the arm and pointed below.

  The baby struggled, grabbed his grandmother’s arm, and chomped. His grandmother shrieked, dropped the child, and grabbed her bleeding wound. Up on both feet, Jake toddled toward his mother’s corpse, wailing. He threw himself on Angie’s chest and began patting her pallid in death face.

  The crazed woman raised her weapon and took aim at her grandson.

  Metatron roared.

  A ball of lightning struck the gun, knocking it out of her hand.

  A second bolt struck her on the chest. Angie’s mother fell to the ground and lay still.

  A moment passed, then another. Just when Angie thought it was all over and Jake was safe, she got up to her knees and reached for Angie’s loaded Glock.

  Blinding light shot across the dark sky and struck the older woman on the side of her head, lifting her off her feet and throwing her into a metal post. She fell to the ground like a ragdoll. Death settled over her features and wiped the rage off her expression, leaving nothing but a pathetic husk of an old woman in its place.

  With Jake safe at last, Angie knew her job on earth was done. Her life for Jake’s. A good trade.

  Thank you for saving my son’s life.

  She surrendered and turned to follow Metatron into the light. Darkness fell and unseen hands grabbed at her arms and spun Angie into dizzying gyrations. Her bearings lost, she no longer knew up from down, nor could she see any sign of Metatron’s lightning bolts or sparks. Where did he go? What was happening to her? Was she being sent to hell? She closed her eyes and prayed for her son and for forgiveness for all her sins.

  When she opened her eyes, ecstasy surged through her. Saved, she was saved, and oh dear God, she was back in her own body. Back on earth with her darling baby boy. She looked up at the light gray sky, took a huge gulp of air, and shouted, “Jake!”

  Her son knelt on her chest and leaned over her head. “Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake.”

  Hot tears trickled down the side of her face. Her son was alive, well, and he was speaking.

  “Oh, Jake,” she whispered. “Thank God, you’re okay.”

  But what of Alejandro? Had he sacrificed his life to save her son?

  The man beneath shuddered and took a great gulping breath. “Angie?”

  She rolled over and could barely believe her eyes. “You’re alive. I’m alive. And my son is—” She grabbed her baby and Alejandro and squeezed them both as hard as she could. “I don’t care who you are or what you do,” she sobbed. “You saved my son’s life and that’s all that matters.

  He pulled her face close to his. “I’m not a drug lord.”

  “You don’t have to lie to me. I love you. You’re my deputy angel, my warrior. I know that now. My heart sees you and knows you for who you really are.”

  Alejandro gave a shaky laugh, hugged Jake and kissed Angie on the forehead. “I love you too, babe. Just to be a devil’s advocate, do you think you could handle being married to a good guy?”

  Metatron had told her that she needed a warrior and an angel. That Alejandro was her deputy angel. If she told him that, he’d never believe her. He’d think she was crazy.

  “You’re a drug lord, a capo. You killed an evil man, a corrupt cop who was about to rape me. You did the world a favor. You got rid of that scum and protected other women.”

  Alejandro sighed. “I am not, nor have I ever been, a drug dealer, a drug lord, or a killer.”

  Was the man dense? She was accepting him for who he was. “I told you, you don’t have to lie to me. I love you. All of you.”

  “Angie. Please. Can you keep a secret?”

  “I’m your lawyer, remember?”

  Alejandro looked her straight in the eyes and said, “I swear on my nephew’s grave and my step-brother’s life, that everything I’m about to tell you is true,” He took a deep breath and pulled her closer. “It’s a long story, but I think we have some time.”

  Epilogue

  One Year Later, Baltimore, Maryland

  Angie sat on the sofa and watched the throng of well-wishers greet Sarah and Dan, then deposit more birthday presents on the growing pile. Foil balloons bobbled each time the front door opened and closed, as if threatening to make an escape from the house. Her husband carried a plate of appetizers in one hand and a soda in the other. He placed both on the coffee table in front of her. Even after a year, she sometimes slipped and called him Alejandro, instead of his real name, Josué or Joshua in English. When she found out
he was Jewish, not Roman Catholic, she laughed so hard she cried. What was it with her and Jewish men and Jewish angels?

  “Can I get you and the baby anything else?”

  She felt a kick. “The baby says you can sit down and take a rest.”

  Joshua placed his mouth close to Angie’s belly button, “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

  “Stop, you’re tickling me,” she giggled. “The baby will come out whenever he or she’s good and ready.”

  “You’re sure you don’t want to know if it’s a boy or a girl?”

  “Yup. At least we’ve picked out names. Zackariah if it’s a boy, Rachel if it’s a girl.”

  “That’s a good name,” Dan said leading a red-headed boy over to his mother. “Jake told me he likes that name. He also likes his little sister’s presents and wants to open them for her.”

  “She asked me to,” Jake said.

  “Yes, of course.” Dan rolled his eyes. “She’s not as advanced as you were at that age. Your little sister isn’t even talking yet.”

  “Yes she is, Daddy. Leah talks to me all the time." He pointed to his head. “I hear her in here.”

  Angie exchanged a glance with her husband. Did Jake really mean that? She thought about Metatron’s revelation that her son had powers handed down from generations of healers in his father’s family, powers that had been foretold in scrolls still to be discovered in caves in Israel.

  “Dan, I have to ask you, has your family always been physicians?"

  Jake’s biological father shook his head. “Not every generation, but close. My great-grandmother and grandmother were midwives. Some called them witches because they always knew the gender of a baby before it was delivered. It was one of the reasons my ancestors moved around a lot. My grandmother and my grandfather fled the country because their neighbors didn’t care for Jews, much less Jewish ‘witches’.”

  Jake climbed on the sofa next to his mother’s lap and patted her belly. “You okay in there?”

  The baby kicked in response.

  “Don’t tease your sibling.” She leaned against Alejandro/Josué. “Dan, where’s your wife?”

  “She’s wrapping up a meeting on the computer. Sarah’s volunteer work with not-for-profits is coming in handy. She’s been giving Isabel advice about how to set up a foundation for the Tarahumaran boarding school and orphanage.” He sipped a glass of wine. “She should be done shortly.”