Chapter 28
Well, not quite alone. In the corner next to the fireplace stood an angel.
It shouldn't have been there, and was in total contradiction to everything Rickie understood about reality. With its tall, pointy head and impossibly long fingers (she saw no evidence of wings, but it was covered with some sort of colorful garment and may have been hiding them), it was definitely a creature scientists would have a hard time charting, and one which inspired within her a cautious attitude.
That the creature was an important one, she was equally certain, it having an air about it of general counsels and moral absolutes.
It was alone, apparently preferring no traveling companions. From some dimly remembered catechistical teachings of long ago, she remembered the purpose of an angelic visitation, it was a messenger from God sent to deliver that message. Apparently, God did not text-message, or tweet. Accordingly, she attempted communication.
"Who are you?" she managed to say. "What do you want? Has something happened? Has my husband died?" She was off, if not to a running start, at least a crawling one.
"My name is Elodroot Plicto," the angel said. "You're husband is fine. I'm here to talk to you about your cat."
"She's in the freezer," Rickie replied.
"The cat saved your life. By her voluntary death, she opened the portal by which you were able to return from the visit with your daughter. Cats were considered divine in ancient Egypt for their ability to do this. They were sacrificed ceremonially to allow the Pharaohs' round-trip passages to heaven to consult with God."
"You smell fantastic. Like roses. Do you know everything?" Rickie asked.
"What do you think?"
"I think you do. I have a question for you. I want to know about something I saw on PBS the other night. Why do the Great Pyramids have those tiny tunnels? They're too small for anyone to crawl through, and they don't let in enough air to keep anybody alive. Why do they have them? If you answer this question intelligently, then I'll know I'm not simply dreaming."
"That's an easy question," the angel replied. "The tiny, mysterious tunnels were created for the purpose of allowing Pharaonic felines access to the royal tombs."
"A tiny tunnel is a pyramidal pet door, is that what you're saying?"
The angel nodded happily. "As long as the cat could travel freely from the outside world to the inner chamber, the portal was kept open and Pharaohs could travel to and fro between this world and the next. Other animals have also served as sacrificial portals. Especially bulls and goats, although on occasion, a pair of young pigeons or turtledoves, or once, even, in the case of Jacob's ladder, a rock performed the function--"
"Stop it!" Rickie screamed.
The angel disappeared, quickly and efficiently.
"Rickie?" Shank's voice. He was standing in the same place occupied only seconds before by the angel.
"Oh my God, Shank. What's going on?"
"You were sleeping. You've been asleep for nearly four hours. You cried out!"
"Four hours? It's only Wednesday morning? I was dreaming it was late afternoon. My sense of time is completely out of joint. I feel like I've been sleeping for a week. My body clock has been ruined by all this." She sat up on the couch. "My God, I'm soaked in sweat. I had the most horrible dream. I dreamed I'd been asleep for days. When I awoke, I saw an angel who told me Just Plain Dot saved my life by her sacrificial death. She opened some kind of portal between here and there which allowed me to return from the afterlife."
The big screen in the corner was on, the volume low. Indeed, the PBS program on Pyramids and their mysterious tiny passageways was at that moment airing, had bled into Rickie's dream world.
"You've been under quite a strain. That, plus the booze can do that to you."
"It's not the booze. It's the anxiety I've been under. I have a very uneasy feeling about this trip I'm on, Shank. Right now I'd give anything to run to my mother's arms and forget about being a grownup for awhile."
"I know the feeling well. I felt the same way earlier when you wanted to hear my life story."
"Shank, I was wrong to force your dark confession out of you. I see that now. I think it best if we simply clear out of here."
The faint crepuscular stirrings of a freshly minted never to be repeated dawn could be seen outside. Across the lawn, down the hill, Rickie spied a cat making its sinewy way slowly through the hydrangeas. She detected no open portals, or Pharaohs lurking anywhere in the vicinity. Was it merely a stupid dream, a psychic cocktail courtesy of PBS and her own disturbed id? Or could the angel have been right? Had Just Plain Dot saved her life in the manner indicated?
"How does it all work, Shank? How does it all work?"
"If I knew the answer to that one, I could die a happy man."
"I'm in a whole new world," Rickie said. "One I've thought about for years now. I planned to leave Hershey over four years ago. Since that time, I've endured more beatings and more degradation than you could ever imagine. I always believed that once I finally worked up the nerve to leave him, I'd feel safe. The heck of it is, I'm still not safe. Even though I know he's laid up in the hospital, I'm still not safe."
"You are safe, Rickie. Think about it. Angels don't visit just anybody. You're special. You got a message from God. God is telling you He knows you, knows where you are, and has taken steps to keep you safe. Apparently, He even sacrificed a cat in your honor."
"I'm not safe. Hershey will try to kill me at some point. The man is incapable of true remorse. Once I'm no longer available to him, he'll become obsessed. No, I'm not safe. He's going to kill me, one way or another."
"Rickie, say the word, and I'll take care of the situation."
"Shank? Is it so easy for you? I say the word and you get rid of Hershey?"
"Rule number one is never give anybody the first shot. Rule number two is never give anybody a clear shot. Why do you think God invented backs? Because they make the best targets."
"Shank, you've got eleven years clean and sober. Now, to my way of thinking, part of those eleven years has been spent getting to know your Higher Power, or whatever, am I right?"
"That's right."
"I don't think God would approve of you killing a man in cold blood. No, that's not the answer. That would ruin our lives forever."
"We're not killing a man. As V.I. Lenin was fond of saying, we're just squashing an insect. There's a big difference."
"This is a turning point for us, Shank. I want you to back off from this idea and never bring it up again. We have to choose the higher road. If we don't, surely we'll perish."
"Thanks, Rickie. May I add, you're being a complete pain in the rear?"
In spite of herself, Rickie laughed. "I took advantage of a dead cat to return from Heaven through a portal the cat's sacrifice created. I think I have a God-given right at this point to be a pain in the rear. It's almost 6 a.m. If I hurry, I've just enough time to catch a few more winks here on the couch before meeting my shrink for breakfast."
With that, she stretched out and pulled up the blanket. "Take my car," she said. "Take the dead cat with you. You can take them both by Judy's later today."
"You know I can't drive. I'll call my driver."
"No way! It's time you started driving again. It'll be your first step toward forgiving yourself."
"I will never do that."
"You will. Once you realize everything that happens in life isn't your fault. Dr. Black taught me that. Oddly, it's what Hirschfeld always accused me of. But not everything is our fault. Once you realize evil exists, and takes advantage of us in our weaker moments, you'll begin to forgive yourself. A long time ago, you let evil win ... but now things are different."
"Rickie, if I take your car, how will you get to your meeting?"
"I'll take the Rolls. If I'm going, I might as well go in style. Now stop making excuses. You're going to start driving ag
ain even if it kills you."
"I love you," he whispered.
"Don't ever say that again until you hear it from my lips first. Promise me."
"Okay, Rickie, I promise."
"Shank, promise me one other thing."
"Anything."
"Don't run over any cats on your way down to Judy's."
The Most Dangerous Time Page 28
