The Bleeding Love, Page 3
Beth Durkee
“Bring me to him?” Samuel thought. “What could a being so powerful it is not subject to time want to see me for?” He swallowed. He could not imagine why anyone that powerful might possibly want to see him. Slowly, reluctantly, he reached out to grasp Amos' hand.
No sooner did their skin meet than air whooshed around their bodies as increasing wind speed made breathing difficult. Samuel looked at Amos with wide eyes. The angel's curly, golden hair was blowing straight up. The two were dead center, in the middle of a cyclone! Amos flashed a grin, and then winked.
“What's that for?” Samuel wondered. He looked out over Amos' shoulder. Instead of seeing what he expected, which was the force of wind blowing around them, he saw something very different. The room itself was spinning. Faster and faster, it spun around and around until it was just a blur. Their spinning, blurred surroundings turned momentarily to a grayish white haze, then back to a colored blur before separating into spinning surroundings again and, finally, coming to a stop.
Motionless at last, Samuel let go of his angel's hand to rub his own forehead. The room may have stopped spinning, but his head had not. A low groan escaped his lips.
“I do NOT want to do that again,” he droned.
“It's okay,” soothed Amos. “Just give it a minute. Take your time.”
“Where are we?” Samuel asked, his head beginning to clear. They stood in the living room of a small apartment. Bare, white walls and brown carpeting surrounded them, a second-hand sofa and a cheap office chair offering them a place to sit in the tiny living room. Samuel remembered living in a similar place when he was first married, twenty years ago. He remembered how hard he had struggled to make a better life for his family and how his wife, Gloria, had carefully budgeted and clipped coupons to make ends meet and pay the bills.
Samuel shuddered at the memory. Those were some hard times, but somehow he caught a few lucky breaks exactly when he needed them along the way so that he could become the successful businessman he was today. He smiled as a thought occurred to him. If his life had been any different, he would never have made it to the position where he had a lovely office assistant named Sharon, the same Sharon who later became his bride.
As he looked around the meager dwelling, his eye fell on a very nice coffee table. It looked oddly out of place amidst the rooms of cheap furniture. Yet it also looked vaguely familiar.
“Why don't you go take a look?” suggested Amos, moving toward the coffee table and avoiding the question that had been put to him.
Samuel knelt beside the coffee table. Upon inspection, he was sure he knew it. This was left to Gloria in her grandmother's will. A knot formed in Samuel's stomach. He did not want to be where he thought he probably was. His eyes rolled up to look silent askance of Amos.
Amos nodded in answer, lips a tight line on his face. He motioned with his head toward a bedroom door, “Let's go. The Shepherd is in there.”
Swallowing hard, Samuel stood. If his ex-wife was in there with the Shepherd, Samuel knew it could not be good. He could not even imagine what kind of trouble he was in this time. Gloria must hate him for sending her back to this impoverished lifestyle after suffering and struggling so long and hard to get out of it. Gathering as much courage as he could muster, he lifted one heavy foot after the other in the direction of that bedroom door.
Post IX
“Do you know if my ex-wife is in there, too?” he asked, worried. If Gloria was in the room with the Shepherd, Samuel was sure to be in trouble. There was no telling what revenge she might take on him for having divorced her.
Amos began his reply, “There is no such thing as . . .” when, THWUMP! banged Samuel's head.
“Ouch!” he exclaimed in surprise. Turning to Amos, he began to ask, “What . . . ?” the angel was not there. In a split second, he had moved to stand directly between Samuel and the wall.
“Do not move,” Amos ordered, his tone even and urgent. A protective and serious look on his face, this was no request. It was an order. “I will be right back.” Releasing Samuel's elbow, the angel disappeared.
Rubbing his head, Samuel remained otherwise motionless. He did not know what was going on or why, but he recognized the look he had seen on Amos' face and he did not dare disobey. After spending the last two days in the company of a mythical, usually invisible creature as old as time itself, he was well aware there were forces around him he did not see or understand. If the angel told him not to move, he was going to stay exactly where he was.
The minutes seemed to drag on forever as he waited for Amos. There Samuel stood seemingly alone and forbidden to move in the residence of the one person on Earth he wanted least to see, his ex-wife. Even thinking about her brought up feelings of distaste and resentment. This was the woman who wanted him to stay in a miserable marriage when he had the chance to be happy with Sharon. Then, when she could not get her selfish way, she poisoned their daughter against him. He hated the woman. He could not even remember what he ever saw in her. Yet here he stood in her shabby, low-income apartment.
Glancing around the apartment as he waited for Amos, he noticed several familiar items. Hanging on the dining room wall was the cuckoo clock he had bought Gloria for her 37th birthday. It was the most expensive gift he had ever given her but, at the time, he felt guilty about his secret relationship with Sharon. He bought the clock to appease his own feelings of guilt. As it turned out, it the expensive present just made him feel guiltier.
There was a picture of their young family on the wall. Looking at it brought back memories. Dirt poor, young and in love, that was the best time in his life. Samuel's heart felt heavy. He missed those days of no regret, when he was proudly beginning to build his life.
Over in the dish drain, Samuel spied a pink glass-mixing bowl. He remembered how poor they were when they bought the set, but Gloria insisted it would be worth scraping together the money. She was right, of course. Twenty years later, she was still using that same set of mixing bowls and they still looked nice. He thought of the cookies she used to mix up in those bowls. He wondered if she still baked cookies from scratch.
Closing his eyes, Samuel shook his head to clear it. These thoughts were not good. They were making him second-guess his life choices – choices that had brought him much financial success, a wife he loved and two wonderful stepchildren. Samuel determined that he would not regret his wife and family. He had to stop remembering fond moments with his lazy, selfish ex-wife.
“Here is the situation,” said Amos, appearing out of thin air.
Samuel jumped, startled. He knew the angel was there and would reappear soon, but it was still pretty disconcerting when someone just appeared out of nowhere like that.
“Gloria has a guardian angel. His name is Gabriel and . . . what's that?” Amos glanced over his shoulder at the empty air behind him. ” . . . Oh, okay,” he nodded, and then looked back to Samuel. “He says you are family so you should call him Gabe. Anyway, he has been guarding Gloria since she was a little girl and has been a first-hand witness to every happy and sad moment of her life since then. He has something he needs to say to you. Just remember, this can't be a long conversation. The Shepherd is waiting with your wife.”
“Wonderful,” thought Samuel. “Another person to yell at me.” Drawing in a long breath, he exhaled, “Alright.”
“Great,” said Amos. He reached out his free hand to empty air behind him. It came to rest on the rock-hard shoulder of a muscle-bound man. Samuel's eyes almost popped out of their sockets when they saw what that shoulder was attached to.
Gloria's guardian angel was no gender-neutral creature like Amos. This angel was all man and all muscle. Testosterone oozed from every pore, the sweat of recent activity glistening on muscles the size of small animals. Shirtless, he wore blue jeans and a cowboy hat with a large cross on the front of it. In his left hand, the weapon that had struck Samuel over the head, an oversized tennis racket, dangled at ease. Samuel swallowed at the sight of the cowboy-gladiat
or. What could such a powerful being possibly have to say to him? His muscles tensed in anticipation.
Hat tilted downward, a baritone voice emitted from the powerful figure, “I apologize for hitting you on the head with my weapon.”
Samuel was so surprised he could not think of what to say. Gabe continued, “No matter how insulted I felt for your widow, it was not my place to exact revenge.”
“Ex-wife,” Samuel corrected. That was an important distinction to him. Despite Gloria's claims to the contrary, his marriage to her had been officially over for four years now. Emotionally, it had been over for even longer.
“Widow,” the angel growled, lifting his chin to stare at Samuel from under the brim of his hat. Gabe's eyes narrowed as he took half a step forward. Seeing his set jaw and steady gaze, a chill ran through Samuel's spine. He swallowed again, his throat suddenly dry. Snapped his lips together tightly to prevent himself from saying anything else to upset the intensely powerful being breathing two steps from him, he was relieved Amos stood between them.
“The man does not understand, Gabe,” interjected Amos. “He does not know the Law.”
“Wrong,” corrected the guardian. “I witnessed when his wife told him. He knows the Law and I am fixin' on making him understand it.” Gabe moved his tennis racket from his left hand to his right.
Samuel tried to take a step backwards, threatened by the gladiator-like being's switched position, but Amos' vice-like grip held him in place. Fortunately, Amos also kept Gabe from advancing. Samuel was impressed. The angel of death was much stronger than he appeared.
Relaxing a little, Samuel asked, “What Law? What did she tell me?”
A low growl rumbled from Gabe's direction as he slowly lifted his tennis racket. Samuel's muscles tensed, but Amos seemed unconcerned. The Angel of Death explained, “The Law of the Great Ones, who are the Ones who created marriage in the first place, clearly states that anyone who divorces and remarries commits adultery3. In other words, the two stay married in the eyes of the Great Ones even after divorce. The vows you spoke on your wedding day said, 'until death us do part,' and that is exactly what they meant.”
Samuel reflected silently, “Yes, that sounds like something Gloria has said.” Outwardly, though, he remained silent. He did not want to further upset Gabe.
“Your divorce decree has no more authority over your marriage than it does over electricity,” Gabe grumbled in agreement.
“Well, I don't believe that,” countered Samuel.
“I'm sure that will be a great comfort to you as you wail in black despair for all of eternity,” Gabe barked as he sprang into the air, muscles rippling with power as energy pulsed through them to swing the over-sized tennis racket in Samuel's direction. Samuel braced for impact as he watched the powerful arm of Gloria's Guardian come down.
BANG! The mesh-weave of the tennis racket met an object in mid-air, sending whatever it was flying in the opposite direction.
“Scared, were ya'?” asked Gabe, back on the ground. Lips twisting into a crooked half-smile, the muscle-bound angel hooked a thumb into his belt as his weight shifted to his rear foot. “I said I was sorry for banging you before. Sorry is sorry. I won't do it again.”
Samuel stood up straight. He was not amused, but he was also not going to admit the angel had frightened him. “What was that . . . thing?” he asked.
“That?” asked Gabe. “That was one stupid nether-being. It can't get anywhere close to your wife while the Shepherd is with her, so it thought it would try to attach itself to you.” The angel chuckled, “In front of ME.”
“Nether-being?” Samuel asked.
“The inhabitants of the nether, the darkness,” Gabe explained, but when he saw the look of confusion on Samuel's face he turned to Amos. “Do you think it would be okay to show him?”
Amos shrugged. “I don't see why not. It's not like he won't see them soon enough anyway.” The Angel of Death turned his attention to Samuel, “Samuel, if you want to see a nether-being, we can show you.” Samuel nodded his understanding, but Amos continued, “It is up to you, but you need to know that this is pretty scary. You might not want to look.”
“Of course I want to look! Why wouldn't I?”
“You don't have to,” offered Amos. “You could just trust us to take care of you without looking.”
Samuel insisted, “I want to see.”
A hint of cruel pleasure crossed Gabe's face as Amos said, “Okay, just as long as we are clear that you are the one making the request.”
“Yes, yes. Just show me already!” Samuel demanded, growing impatient.
“Come this way and turn so your back is to the wall,” instructed Amos. Still holding Samuel's elbow and Gabe's shoulder, the Angel of Death moved to help Samuel into position. Gabe's position remained unchanged. Coming to a halt, Samuel turned around to face out into the room.
When they were satisfactorily positioned, it was Gabe's turn to offer instructions, “All you have to do to see the nether-beings is touch my hand. It is just like completing a circuit. When you want them to disappear again, take your hand away.” He reached his hand out to Samuel.
Post X
“What do you think I am?” demanded Samuel. “A coward? If there is something out there, especially if it is 'scary,' I have a right to see it!” He grabbed Gabe's hand to complete the circuit so that he could see the invisible nether-beings in the room with them.
Air hissed into his lungs as Samuel simultaneously drew in breath through his mouth and nose. In one fluid motion, his jaw dropped, his eyes grew round and he stepped backwards, pulling on the hands of both the angels. Three times, they had warned him he might not want to look at the nether-beings. Three times, he refused their cautions. Three times, they were right and he was wrong.
Hanging in the air, flapping huge bat-like wings, better than two-dozen gargoyle-like creatures hovered in place before him. The creatures looked like something out of a nightmare. Ranging in size from that of a house-cat to the size of a medium-build dog, the nether-beings were covered in pitch-black, leathery skin. Every foot was a large claw. Every face held razor sharp teeth. Their small, black eyes set in grotesque animal faces burned cold hatred at Samuel as he stared at them from under the protection of the two angels.
Wanting to flee but knowing he could never outrun the winged creatures, Samuel's muscles tensed as he froze in place. He could not move. Barely breathing, all he could do was stare, mouth ajar, at the sea of nether-beings filling the air only inches from him.
“Why are they just hanging there?” Samuel squeezed out a whisper.
Gabriel, the intensely strong, cowboy-gladiator-angel answered, “They are held at bay by the direct presence of the Shepherd. When he leaves to watch from above, they will resume their attack and I will defend your wife.”
“Stop calling her my wife! Gloria is my EX-wife!” Samuel stomped his foot on the floor for emphasis. He also conveniently let go of Gabe's hand. Gabe shrugged and rolled his eyes in Amos' direction. Amos shook his head from side to side.
Samuel, triumphantly ignoring them, asked, “Why do they want to attack Gloria? I mean, she is pretty nasty and I know what she did to me, but what did she do to them?”
This time, Amos answered, “Gloria stands between their master and what he desires. He knows that he cannot have it as long as she continues to plead the protection of the Great Ones, so he sends his nether-beings to whisper lies in her ears and cast doubt and fear into her heart in the hope that she might give up her stand against him.”
Amos paused. His eyes grew glassy, as if he were listening to something. “We have no more time to go into this,” he announced. “The Shepherd just called. We have to go now.”
Releasing his hold of Gabe, causing the guardian angel to once again become invisible, Amos gave Samuel's elbow a little tug to get him moving toward Gloria's bedroom.
”But...” Samuel began to protest.
The angel cut him off, “Now.”
Post XI
He wanted to ask what was so valuable that Gloria would not surrender it to the nether-beings’ master for the sake of her peace and safety, but there was no time. The Angel of Death paused at the bedroom's threshold to instruct, “When you enter, kneel until I bid you rise.”
“Kneel?” Samuel questioned, wrinkling his nose.
Without pausing to answer, Amos stepped forward into Gloria's bedroom. Falling to his knees, he dragged Samuel to the floor with him.
Catching himself with his free hand, Samuel protested loudly, “Hey!”
“Ssst!” corrected Amos, motionless. On his knees with head bowed, vice-grip still wrapped around Samuel’s elbow, the angel did not move a muscle. Perfectly still, he looked like he had been carved of stone.
Samuel glanced up hesitantly. Cautiously, his eyes darted around the room to locate the powerful and mysterious “Shepherd.” Not knowing what to expect, he tried to imagine a creature even more fearsome than a nether-being. He could not even fathom such a creature, but it did not even matter. The only person he saw in the room was Gloria.
Nudging an unresponsive Amos, Samuel whispered, “It’s okay. It’s just Gloria.” Even though nobody else was there to hear him, whispering somehow felt appropriate.
There she sat atop a Queen-sized bed that Samuel recognized all too well, her slender form clothed in familiar red, satin pajamas, a thick book in her lap. Her eyes closed, Samuel knew she was awake by the constant movement of her fingers, one of which still wore the wedding ring he had placed on it so many years ago, rubbing each other.
Silently, he sighed. He wished Gloria would just move on with her life. Their marriage was over. It had been over for years. If she would just accept that he did not love her anymore and move on, she could be happy. Their daughter, Crystal, would also be happier with a mother who set a good example of how to live a normal life.
