Into This River I Drown (30 page)

Cal moves before I can cry out a warning. Almost faster than my eyes can follow, he spreads his wings again, raising them up and then slamming them down toward the ground. He’s launched into the air, even as the concussive blast of air from the downswing of his wings strikes me in the face, smelling of grass and earth. Blue lights flash and trail behind him, like a comet’s tail.

The Strange Men land where he stood only moments before, screeching louder, glaring upward. I follow their gazes and see Cal thirty feet above them, the blue lights arcing their way around him, the stars a halo behind his head, his wings moving up and down lazily. The moon peeks out from behind the clouds like it wants to light up this creature in its sky and show the world something it has never seen before. I cannot make out his face, but I can see the anger emanating from him. He is breathtaking.

And then he crosses his arms over his chest as his wings fold to his sides. He falls backward. Above the angry calls of the Strange Men, I can hear the wind rustling over his wings as he plummets toward the earth. I only have a moment to be alarmed, to think maybe he is falling again, that something is wrong, that he’s going to crash into the ground, and the Strange Men will fall on him with their terrible claws, their stretched faces.

But that is not what happens at all.

He’s ten feet above the ground, falling headfirst, the Strange Men’s arms outstretched as if they will catch him, when his wings snap open. Air immediately pushes against the feathers, slowing his descent. He folds them again as he twists his body. The Strange Men shout incoherently as he rockets between them, reaching, but grabbing only empty air, the blue lights flowing around them. The rush of air left in his wake knocks them off balance, and they stumble as they attempt to stay upright.

Even as he passes between them, he’s spinning again, until he faces the Strange Men, his wings unfurling, causing him to come to an immediate stop in midair, his wings pumping around him. He catches both of the Strange Men by their necks as they fall into him. He raises them both off the ground, digging his fingers into their flesh. The Strange Men kick their legs, flailing and trying to scratch at his arms.

The expression on Cal’s face is pure fury. A low growl rumbles out of him, his chest heaving. The Strange Men start to choke and gasp for air. I wonder what will happen if he continues to squeeze, if his hands will tear into their skin. Do they have blood? Will it pour over his fingers? He’s called them men of nothing, but surely they live if they are struggling to breathe.

“I gave you warning,” Calliel says coldly. “I gave you an opportunity to leave Roseland, to leave him alone. You ignored my warnings. You chose to attack what is mine. I will now rid this place of you.”

“You know… what Michael… will do,” the dark man gasps.

“You have… broken law,” the light man gurgles. “You cannot believe… that you can stay here.”

“You have forsaken your Father,” the dark man spits out.

“You have only made this worse,” the light man warns. “They will come for you in greater numbers.”

Something crosses Calliel’s face, and his expression falters. I want to call out to him, to say his name, to tell him to set them down, that he is not the judge and jury, not the executioner. But my words barely break a whisper; my throat closes in disbelief. Cal’s eyes harden again and the snarl returns.

“This is
my
town. These are
my
people. Benji is
mine
. Let them come. You won’t be here to witness it.”

“The black,” the Strange Men choke out as one.

“Sin,” the dark man says.

“Vile,” the light man says.

“Be gone,” Cal says.

“No,” I whisper.

The Strange Men begin to shriek again, their cries loud, echoing over the cemetery. Cal’s blue lights begin to gather and swirl behind him, slowly at first, but then in an ever-widening vortex. There’s no sound, but it’s not silent. It’s as if there’s an
absence
of sound, as if it’s being sucked toward the maelstrom. I can see through the center of the spinning blue halo, the headstones behind it flashing in the light. But then the center of the halo explodes outward, and a black void fills the circle. It looks like a large dark eye: a spinning blue cornea, a great black pupil.

Cal spins on his heels, his wings flaring out behind him, bringing the Strange Men around with him. As he whirls, he releases them, first the light man, then the dark man. The light man is the first to reach the dark eye, and he hits the black center… and disappears, his entire suit falling to the ground. The dark man follows, his suit fluttering down to the ground as he enters the black. As soon as they’re gone, the swirling black hole explodes in a soundless flash that burns my eyes.

And then it’s over.

He stands facing away from me, as if watching the empty space where the hole had been. His wings fold back against him again, and I can see he’s trembling, clenching and unclenching his hands.

“Cal?” I manage to croak out.

He turns. The anger has left his face, replaced by despair. Horror. Anguish. “Benji?” he whispers, sounding broken. He falls to his knees, his wings shaking behind him.

I should run to him, I know. I should run and comfort him and make him okay. Make everything okay. But it’s hard to move my feet. I’m weighed down by the last words I said to him, how I forced him away. How I made him leave. This isn’t on him. None of this is on him. It’s me. Everything about this is me. And again, he’s come when I’ve called for him. He’s come when I didn’t deserve it. He’s come to bring light to my world, to save my life and keep me from drowning. Dear God, how could I deserve this? How could he even be here with me?

I take a step toward him, hearing his ragged breath. It seems like I take days to reach him, hours stretched out where I’m sure I’ll be struck down by the might of his Father, sure I’ve failed whatever test has been put before me.

But it doesn’t happen.

I stand before Calliel. His head is bowed.

“Benji,” he breathes. He doesn’t look at me. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I choke out. I reach out and cup his face.

He leans forward, pressing his forehead against mine. Even in the dark, I can see the glitter of his eyes. “Your thread. I saw your thread, and I was scared. It was so bright.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I d-didn’t mean….”

“I know,” he says, and I almost believe he does. I feel his breath on my lips. “I know. I thought… no. I was scared. I didn’t know what else to do. Benji. I’m sorry.”

“I thought you were gone,” I say weakly. “I thought you’d left me too.”

He widens his eyes and pulls back, bringing his hand to the back of my head, pushing me into him as he kisses my forehead. “No,” he says in obvious distress. “I will not leave you again. I will always be with you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please believe me.”

“You can’t say that! You don’t know what will happen! This is on me. This is all my fault, and I—”

“Never,” he says. He brushes my tears away with his thumbs. “Never again. You are my—”

“Benji?” a voice calls out, cracking.

“No,” I whisper.

Cal spreads his wings quickly as he rears back, the blue bright against the night sky.

I turn my head.

Standing next to the stone angel who guards the small patch where my father sleeps is my mother. And she has seen the angel Calliel for what he really is.

part iii: trust

The man at the end of his life sat on the river’s edge.

The River Crosser sat next to him, waiting for another passenger.

“I can’t go across yet,” the man said, picking at a blade of grass.

“What happens if my son needs me and I am not here?”

The River Crosser didn’t answer immediately, just sat, watching the man.

Finally, the River Crosser stood up straight and stretched. He looked out at the river. “You know,” he said with a frown, “everyone will always need something.” He

sighed. “But you have to trust they’ll know how to take care of themselves.”

the voice of god

My mother
had received a message from Rosie, she told us, her voice wavering. She’d been in the next county over, delivering some baked goods to a women’s shelter. She’d stayed a bit later than she planned, talking with some of the women, making plans to assist them with a fundraiser happening in the fall. She hadn’t even realized she’d left the phone in her car. She hadn’t gotten the message until dusk, as she was driving home.

Strange Men, Rosie said in the message, were asking questions about Big Eddie. My mother needed to find me, to make sure I was okay, that nothing had happened to me. The store was already closed when she’d arrived. She drove to Little House, and I wasn’t there. She was worried about me, she said, though she couldn’t really explain why. Just a feeling she had when I didn’t answer my phone when she called. She didn’t know who these Strange Men were, or why they had been asking about Big Eddie. Why now, all of a sudden?

She thought about driving to mile marker seventy-seven, but she knew she’d kick herself if she got all the way out there and I wasn’t there. She wasn’t sure there was time for that, especially if she was right. She knew Cal was gone. The Strange Men could only have made this situation worse. She decided to go to the cemetery first, be it intuition, be it knowing how I am, she didn’t know. She’d cried out in relief when she saw my truck. She parked next to it and hopped the chain.

And then?

Blue lights. Impossibilities. A light and dark man attacking me. Wings spreading and soaring into the sky. Cal. She wasn’t seeing what she was actually seeing, was she? It wasn’t possible. The world didn’t work in mysterious ways. It was only black. It was only white.

“It’s
not possible,” she says now as I hand her a cup of coffee in Little House. She shakes, worried (of all things to worry about) that she’ll scald herself if she keeps shuddering. “Things like this don’t happen. Not here. Not anywhere.”

“They do,” Cal reassures her from his place near the kitchen doorway. His wings had faded again even before we left the cemetery. “People just don’t know how to look close enough. Amazing things happen all the time. Little threads connect you all. It’s really quite beautiful.”

I groan inwardly as my mother’s eyes bulge. It’s probably not the best time for one of his esoteric meanderings, and I tell him so. His eyes are warm as he smiles at me. I don’t know how much of that is for me and how much of it’s because I let him drive the Ford back as I drove my mother home, unsure if she was going into shock. I was relieved when we pulled past Big House that Nina wasn’t waiting on the porch, nor did the lights seem to be on inside. I didn’t think I was ready for Christie and Mary to be in on this. Not yet.

“How long have you known?” my mother suddenly asks.

“About Cal?”

“Yes.”

I glance at him. He’s watching me with such awe that my heart skips a few beats. I don’t know where we stand and I’m trying my best to keep from flushing, but I don’t know how long I can last. It’s only now that I truly realize I didn’t think he’d come back. “Since I found him,” I admit.

“And where was this?” She sounds like she’s on the verge of hysterics.

I think about lying, but that would just make things worse. “Mile marker seventy-seven.”

Her face goes white, and she grips the cup so tightly I’m afraid it will shatter. “Benji,” she whispers. “The meteor? That light?”

I nod.

“You know this isn’t….”

“Isn’t what?”

She looks unsure as she glances between the two of us. “You said he was an angel. You said he was the guardian angel of Roseland. Of us. Of you.”

I nod again, waiting.

“Things like this don’t happen, Benji. Not here. Not in the real world.” She almost looks like she doesn’t believe her own words.

“You saw the same thing I did,” I tell her quietly. “You saw his wings. You saw the Strange Men. You saw it with your own eyes.”

“I know what I saw!” she snaps at me, slamming down the mug on the counter. “I’m looking for a goddamn explanation! Why here? Why now? Who were those men? Where did they go? What does he want with us! With you!” By the time she finishes, she’s shouting.

I flinch, not knowing how to handle the anger in her eyes. I open my mouth to say something,
anything
, to make her calm down, to make her see what I see. Her anger is only giving fire to my own, and I can’t lose it here. Not now. Not yet. Fighting will solve nothing—there’s too much more to learn.

But before a word can fall from my lips, Cal takes three big, quick strides over to my mother. She gasps and tries to shrink away, but he’s too fast for her. I am alarmed (
please don’t send my mother into the black!
my mind shrieks) and I’m about to step forward when he reaches his hands up and frames her face. She struggles to move away, but he’s holding her tight. Her movements weaken until she stares up at him, tears streaming down her face. She gasps into his touch.

“Lola Green,” he says, his voice rough but kind. “I have watched you for many, many years. A little girl who liked to cause mischief with her sisters. A young woman who cared more for her family than almost anyone I’ve seen. A woman who grew and loved with such ferocity that it was like watching a whirlwind. I watched your heart shatter, though it was done in secret because you wanted to protect your son. I watched you attempt to fix yourself, away from anyone who could see inside because you believed that it was the only way your son would survive. You don’t know if you’ve done right by Benji because he’s not the same person he was when his father was here. You don’t know what else to do. You don’t know if you are strong enough. I assure you that you are.”

She begins to weep openly, raising her hands to grip his arms. There’s a faint buzzing in my ears, like everything around me is vibrating, humming with an electrical current. I see tiny blue flashes, but they are too small to be important.