The Wrath of Jeremy (10 page)

As he stared at the spit, he remembered a
mysterious life again, unlike his own, reflecting in his mind what
Jesus told him through his thoughts. The fear of realizing that a
figure called “Jesus” spoke to him made David even more terrified
within, causing a form of unknown retribution to tumble about and
create pure drops of melancholy to rain upon his soul. It started a
transformation within David, causing him to feel this unknown life
and its memories, reaching into the depths of his soul, mind and
consciousness. Suddenly he squinted. Pure pain pulsed in his
temples, like a vise squeezing against his head and filling his
mind with memories in the process. Tears came flushing out through
his eyes, passing down across his bloody mouth, and the sound of
lightning could be heard by his ears. His tears turned to blood,
the sound of thunder turned to echoes of angels screaming a high
pitch of fury, and his hands started to shake vigorously.

Then it stopped. David opened his bloody
eyes, and a pure memory of some life, some state of consciousness
came to him. Vigilance was with him completely, even more so than
when Jesus touched his forehead yesterday. That’s when he stared
through the bloody saliva on the mirror and looked at his
reflection a different way, as if he just met it. He studied his
image, smiling at it, and then he turned his head and looked at the
mirror behind him and gazed at his back in the reflection. He
asked, “Well, if I’m an angel, where’re my wings?”

He turned back around to face the front
mirror as the door to the room opened. In came an old man with a
long beard and an eyeglass in his left eye, strolling in slowly and
letting out gas at every step he made, creating a large, spitting
sound as if the gas was also pushing out diarrhea in morsels. David
crunched his own face, lifting up his lips and flaring his nostrils
in a look of disgust. The man pulled up a chair that was on the
left side of the room and sat directly across from him, with David
hearing swishy sounds as the man sat, as if he sat on a bag of
water and broke it open.

The man ignored his gas condition, knowing
that David heard it by the face he was making. The man just stared
at him while opening up his briefcase and pulling out David’s
files. He also pulled out a miniature tape recorder and placed it
on the middle of the table, next to carved initials and comments of
a sexual nature. “Hey, Frank, how are you doing?” David asked as
Frank pressed the record button on the recorder. “I see you still
have the gas problem, huh?”

Frank looked at David while taking off his
eyeglass. “Never mind. David, the question is, how are you doing?
Your mouth is bleeding, and you have blood all over your face. Do
you know this?” Frank saw that David was nodding, and just gave a
sigh, like he was looking down at David. Frank then turned away
from David’s brown eyes and looked at the mirror in back of him,
knowing that guards were behind the glass listening and spying. He
turned to face David again and added in a low tone, “David, what’s
this I hear about you saying you’re an angel?”

David looked at Frank’s wrinkly neck and
noticed a necklace hanging from it; it was a necklace of the holy
cross. David fixed his eyes on the cross strongly, seeing that he
was looking at it now a different way, in a way a person would look
at a long-lost friend being found. He replied, “Because…I…am an
angel. I don’t know, Frank, I don’t know why I have this memory
with me, but I am an angel! Would you rather hear me say I’m an axe
murderer?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact I would; at least
it’s believable. David, listen to me, in the past you’ve told me
many things about you seeing statues moving. But you always told me
that you’ve only seen them while you were on LSD,” Frank stated,
opening up David’s files and letting out another large gas bubble
that made its way through the wooden seat and traveled quickly to
David’s nose. “It says here that you’ve been in trouble with the
law a lot. As a matter of fact, you’ve been in trouble with the law
on a daily basis, ever since you were nine years old. The point I’m
trying to make to you is why, of all people, you would say you were
an angel? I thought angels were good—are they not?” Frank
sarcastically asked, handing David’s files to him and adding, “If
you said you were an axe murderer, it would make my job so much
easier.”

David looked down at the files, blinking his
eyes over and over again, seeing there was some truth in what Frank
spoke of, believing that maybe he was crazy. But he closed the
files immediately and comprehended that every wrongdoing or evil
act that was written in the folder was in the past; he was now a
new person, yet with the same silhouette as before.

David handed the files back to Frank and
replied, “An angel can be in any form, the only form that you
believe in are the clichés that you were taught. All I remember,
Frank, is that I’m an angel; I don’t remember anything else.”

Frank smirked at his remark, finding it funny
in a psychotic way. “Oh, so you say you’re an angel, but you don’t
have any reason as to why you are. Listen, David, I’m going to be
straightforward with you—if you keep up this ‘angel’ talk, you’re
going to end up in a nuthouse!” Frank yelled out.

David heard his voice as a distant echo as
soon as he noticed the cross on Frank’s neck beginning to glow. The
room darkened slowly to David’s own eyes, as if a storm approached
and covered the sun, yet it was the room’s light bulb dimming.

“David, right now there are people behind
those mirrors watching you, watching and hearing every word you
say. I have been your lawyer ever since you were fourteen years
old—I work for your father, for crying out loud. But, even though
you’re rich and have a good family, you still sell drugs on the
streets, and now you’re claiming that you’re an angel. Is this some
kind of call for attention?” yelled Frank.

The cross started to glow brightly to David’s
eyes, and the room shined with its beacon. Frank’s yelling entered
David’s ear and out the other; it was like an echo from a distant
violin, loud and quick. David concentrated on the glowing cross,
gawking at it on Frank’s neck while light reflected off his brown
eyes, instigating him to turn away for a moment in fear and look at
Frank’s eyes. As Frank’s voice grew to a louder reverberation,
David attempted to speak, trying to bypass his shock and find his
voice manually, grasping his throat and trying to breathe out
words. He knew he was still breathing, but now he was trying to put
some sound in his breath, so the next time he exhaled, hopefully
sound would go with it. He breathed out, but no sound exited, so he
kept trying to manipulate his voice box, again by grabbing his
throat while Frank still yelled at him.

The next inhale came and then he exhaled,
breaking through his shock with: “No, I’m not trying to get
attention, I’m telling the truth. For the first time in my life I’m
telling the truth, and wouldn’t you know it, nobody believes me!”
After his exhale of truth, he noticed the mirrors formed a black
substance on them, as if they were burnt and full of ash. The
people behind the glass started to become afraid, as the black
substance covered the mirrors completely, and not one person knew
what it was or what was causing it. Frank looked at the mirror in
back of David and noticed the black shield as well.

“You see it, too?” David asked as the cross
began to shake on Frank’s neck.

“What’s going on, David, what’s happening?”
asked Frank in a frantic fashion. The cross broke off from his neck
and levitated in thin air. Frank looked up at the cross, swallowed
a large amount of shock, and passed out, falling to the ground and
giving out his last sound of gas before he surrendered to
unconsciousness. David got up from the chair and ran over to the
door, screaming for the guards to open it. But the people behind
the mirrors had already passed out from the same experience that
Frank had, and couldn’t hear David’s cry for help. He looked
through a miniature window on the door that looked like a mail
slot, and saw a guard down the hallway lying on the ground. It was
as if every single person had passed out—every single person except
for David.

He heard sounds of an angelic voice singing
in the distance. David ignored the noise and ran to the other side
of the room, while the levitating cross tripled in size. “What’s
happening?” cried David, suddenly hearing a voice speaking from the
cross.

“David,” the voice said. David turned away
from the pulsating light from the cross, which caused a small
second-degree burn to bake on his face. “David?”

“Who are you?” David screamed, watching as
the cross opened up, and out came a figure that resembled a king.
The frantic light vanished and when David turned he saw a man who
he knew was Jesus. This man had a crown of jewels, a robe made out
of gold cloth, and a face as innocent as a child’s soul, with a
skin color that was not black, nor white, nor brown, nor yellow; it
was the color of colors. A complexion of assorted colors, with his
face white, his forehead darker, his chin and neck black, equaling
one color that seemed perfect in beauty. Yet, when David blinked
his eyes once, the King of Heaven’s color turned to a simple shade
of tan.

Fear came over David, the fear of knowing who
this man was, forcing his own shock-filled legs to buckle and
causing David to fall to his knees. David’s face touched the dirty
floor, his eyes only facing the ground, yet suddenly he heard
footsteps approaching. He knew that it was Jesus coming closer to
him.

“David, thou art the West, you must guide my
army to the west,” Jesus demanded, holding out his hand to touch
David on the forehead. “Find the Shroud, the map will guide you,”
he added, as David looked up at him. Jesus touched David’s forehead
and a jolt of pure, tranquil energy shot through his body, shaking
his nerves, frolicking around his soul. David heard a loud clash,
like thunder and lightning crashing against each other in a fight
for the first summer’s storm. And then it ended, with David hearing
his angelic King say, “Now I gave powers to David and the knowledge
of the mission you must carry forth; go and find the Shroud!”

David’s forehead began to glow, a beacon of
yellow emanating from Jesus’s touch. David watched as Jesus slowly
stepped back into the cross that was now enormous. Suddenly, in a
breath smaller than that of a fairy, the cross became small again
and fell to the ground, bouncing on the ground twice, as David
watched it in leisurely motion.

Frank awoke with the black substance on the
mirrors receding and vanishing to the sight. David passed by Frank
and walked to the door in a hurry, looking at his hand while
placing it on the doorknob and looking back at Frank for an
instant. Hearing the sounds of gas birthing in the air, David knew
Frank was beginning to awake. He knew once Frank awoke, he wouldn’t
be able to carry out this abrupt, new mission he was told to do.
Panic started to form in the sweat that grew from his pores. Frank
started to wake more, shaking his head in a confused way while the
panic grew in David’s mind. He was imagining the door opening on
its own, when abruptly it did, without him even having to unlock
it. The door slowly opened, with David perceiving his hand on the
doorknob and how it made the knob glow with some sort of power he
possessed now. While David was exiting the room, suddenly Frank got
up from the floor, noticed David was escaping, and slowly walked up
to him without David realizing it.

Frank got up to David, grabbed him by the
right shoulder, and demanded, “Where are you going? The session
isn’t over with yet!”

David understood through the thick, sticky
humid air that Frank had no idea about the miracle which had just
taken place moments ago. He smiled at Frank, replying, “I have to
go to Grewsal now!”

“What’s Grewsal?” asked Frank while putting
his eyeglass on.

“I’m sorry, Frank, but no more
questions!”

David then ran down the hallway and Frank ran
to one of the mirrors in the room, screaming, “David is
escaping!”

One of the guards slowly woke up and saw
Frank screaming, understanding his facial expression was that of
panic, even though he couldn’t hear what he was saying through the
see-through mirror. The guard looked around the dark room that was
behind one of the mirrors, questioning out loud to the other
guards’ who were first waking up, “What happened?”

The guard ran out of the dark room, and,
seeing David walking down the hallway, he ran up to David and asked
in a snotty manner, “Where do you think you’re going, you little
shit?”

At that moment, David stuck his hand in the
air and touched the guard’s forehead. A jolt of energy passed
through the guard’s veins, knocking him out and causing him to fall
to the ground like a rock.

Frank ran out of the room he was in and saw
the guard lying stiff on the cold, white floor, and noticed that
David was nowhere to be found. He ran into another room that was
across the hallway, a medical room, and searched through the
supplies for a syringe with a tranquilizer-like liquid, finding one
in a glass cabinet. Frank took a chair and smashed the glass,
grabbed the syringe and walked carefully out to the hallway,
lowering his pace as he came closer to David. “David, I’m sorry for
having to do this,” Frank said in sincerity before he stuck the
needle into David’s arm. David placed his hand on Frank’s forehead,
trying to fight the sensation of tiredness that the liquid in the
syringe caused, and gazed into Frank’s eyes. Suddenly David’s eyes
started to shift and fill with heavy gravity, saying, “You don’t
know what you’re doing, I’m an angel, you bastard!” David fell to
the ground and lay in the hallway stiff, with Frank trying to
understand and contemplate why David would have so much passion in
those words. What if he was telling the truth? But he stopped
thinking and grabbed onto David’s limp arms.