“Little One,” my mentor said, “will your heart prove as obstinate as those of the heathen? Or will you hearken your ears to those of us who love you and are appealing to you to surrender your will to us? Will this be the last time we have to deal with your rebellion? I certainly hope so, for you must know that your life is precious to both Michael and me, albeit not to yourself. You were the delight of Mika’s heart but, now, you’re also the one breaking his heart.”
I turned on my stomach.
Something hadn’t been right with me for a while. My spirit was at war with my emotions: Gabriel’s advice made sense but I felt irritated. I wanted him to stay but his presence intimidated me. I recalled that my spirit had undergone this same internal struggle with my mind and emotions in the few minutes leading up to the crevasse where I had attempted to abbreviate my life out of the will of the heavenly Father.
“I suppose you’ve been wondering about that large mirror in the living room?” Gabriel asked.
“I’d been wondering why no one thought I might break it and use a shard to cut myself,” I replied.
“It did cross our minds,” Gabriel maintained, “but we knew you would find out soon enough that this particular mirror was made of polished steel. The mirror was deliberately placed here, and for a good reason. A few decades ago, the nation of Japan was being confronted with an endemic problem among her citizens; they were routinely throwing themselves in the paths of the oncoming trains in the subways. A solution was eventually found to address the problem: the authorities installed mirrors on the opposite sides of the platforms and the suicides came to a sudden halt. Do you know why this is?”
I remained silent but I was listening, and even interested.
“The thing people wanted to see least before their untimely demise was themselves. This is because, intrinsically, humans know the worth of their lives and, in spite of the claims of euthanasia lobbyists, death, by their own hand or otherwise, isn’t dignified. Our Father’s intention has always been for man to live with Him forever and, on some level, the human race realizes this; as it is written, ‘He has also set eternity in their hearts.’ The Lord God, as you’re aware, regards death – the absence of life – alien to Himself, for He’s the Source of life. It’s the same way the Lord regards sin. This is why the Sixth Commandment applies to suicide, too, for it is the murder of oneself.”
My mentor paused for a few seconds so that his last statement could sink in.
He went on: “God has given man free will, so in regard to suicide, it is his choice but, ultimately, it isn’t just ‘his’ life. It affects more than he knows, in the now and for eternity.”
And that was the last piece of advice Gabriel was to give me this evening. Rising from my bed, he departed.
I turned on my back. I stared up at the ceiling, at the ventilation fan oscillating in the corner, and tried to make sense of my jumbled up thoughts. The words and actions of the ones who loved me, the ones whose hearts I was breaking with my behaviour, kept intruding into my conscience. As was its coercive nature, I had to answer to my conscience. I brooded over Gabriel’s reproach. I chewed over Michael’s chastisement. Then, I thought of the Lord, my God.
And what of the Lord? Did He also regard my will to die an indictment on my lapse of good conscience?
It was all a bit too much.
“Forgive me, Lord,” I whispered in prayer. Then, I was weeping into my pillow: “I was wrong. I’m sorry. I don’t want to die. I don’t choose death over life. Something’s wrong with me but I don’t know what it is. O Lord, what’s wrong with me? My mind is so muddled. I want to talk to Michael but I don’t know where to start. There are all these issues rolling into each other; they’re one big mess. There are all these negative emotions that are divorcing my mind from any sense of logic and sanity. I feel like I’m losing my mind. And I’m so afraid of being seen as immature and cowardly if I talk about it. Help me, Lord. I can’t help myself anymore. I can’t do this on my own. I need to talk to my Dad. I need his voice of reason . . . I need . . . I . . .”
I dozed off while I was still crying out to God.
I must have been taking more than a nap, for when I awoke again it was dark outside. Something took possession of the foot of my bed. My eyes sprang open expecting to behold Gabriel, back from his mission to scold me some more.
“Be comforted,” Michael stated, his voice inflected with compassion. “You’re not being punished. No one condemns you. I don’t. The Lord certainly doesn’t. And this isn’t a penitentiary. It’s an infirmary.”
Mortified, I crossed my arms over my eyes. “I’m sorry I’ve caused the Lord so much consternation. I’ve grieved Gabriel and I’ve grieved you.”
“I’m just pleased you’re coming round to the fact that you’ve been wrong,” Michael said.
I sat up and made eye contact with him. His eyelids were slightly red and moist. It wasn’t too long ago that Gabriel had disclosed intimate details of several past occasions when Michael had been driven to express the profundity of his grief with tears: when Lucifer sinned and fell, and afterward led a third of the hosts of heaven in an insurrection against Jehovah; when Gabriel came between Lucifer and the angel, Raphael, during the insurrection, which resulted in Lucifer’s scimitar excising Gabriel’s left ear, the same ear that was later miraculously re-attached by the Lord; and when the Lord Jesus was scourged, flagellated and crucified on the cross for the sins of mankind.
I was the last person that had wanted to grieve Michael in any way. If Michael always only wanted me to be safe and protected, I always only wanted him to be proud of me. I wanted nothing more than to make it up to him now, but that would have to be for another time.
Instead, I heard myself explaining: “I’ve sinned against the Lord; I feel as if I’ve lost complete control of myself. That terrifies me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, why I had wanted to kill myself, except that I’m frightened of him – Abaddon, I mean. I just want to stop being afraid of him.”
“Where is this coming from?” the elder thought out loud. There was nothing judgmental or disparaging in his question; he was simply searching in his conscience for a verity. He continued: “‘For the Lord has not given us a spirit of fear.’”
I averted my eyes from his gaze. Right there and then, my resolve would overrun its usefulness, bringing me to the end of my tether. My dam broke, but it was just the release valve I had needed for the burden of guilt I had been carrying for so long.
“I’m a murderer, Mika,” I blurted out tearfully. I covered my eyes with my fists, feeling at the same time mortified and so ashamed. “I despise myself. What makes me any different from Abaddon?”
I heard Michael – Mika, as I liked to call him – arise and felt rushed into his arms. He rested my head on his shoulder.
Hugging me with his protective mien, on which I had come to depend more and more, Mika spoke gently into my ear: “You still don’t realize, do you, how I long to gather you under my wing and take care of you? Little One, you’re not alone in this. Stop trying to handle this on your own. I don’t want you to carry all this weight on your shoulders anymore. I want you to let me carry it for you. And I want you to stop feeling like there’s any shame in admitting you want help.”
“I don’t,” I argued. “I don’t feel any shame in asking for help. I’m ashamed of being seen as weak, that’s all.”
“There’s no need to feel that way,” he stated. “There’s no shame in having a weakness. It’s part of who you are, part of being human. You sometimes forget that you’re a human being, created with a human nature. As I’ve learned from centuries of observation of the human race, having a weakness is a part of what it means to be human.”
“Right,” I pined, “my human nature. That’s the part of me I need to suppress.”
“No,” he vehemently shook his head, “oh, no, no. That’s not where I’m going with this. Yah has chosen to write in your genetic makeup a dual nature that’s unique for the fulfilment of His purpose. Instead of suppressing the human side of your dual nature, you want to manage the features that have the predisposition to yield to sin. You want to aspire to be perfect in your thoughts, as well as in your speech and actions which flow from your thoughts. Emulate the Lord Jesus who was perfect even as a human being living with humanity.
“No, Little One, there’s no shame in having a weakness. Has not the Lord said, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness’? Remember, you are yet young and inexperienced, especially inexperienced in the face of the principalities who, we now realize, desire to frustrate the unique mission for which the Lord has created you. In light of this, you want to turn your inexperience into an opportunity to draw closer to the Lord, by leaning on Him to help you tear down the powers of darkness in high places. The Lord and His angels are always here to protect you, and to guide and counsel you.”
I nodded quietly. I took a deep breath before saying in a whisper: “In that case, tell me how I’m supposed to reconcile what I do with what I’ve been taught is morally right. It’s been eating at my conscience and I feel sick to my soul. There’s blood on my hands. The blood of three hundred people.”
“Listen to me, beloved,” Michael replied. “All this guilt you’re feeling isn’t right. This is not from the Lord. It’s from Abaddon. I submit that the Evil One was responsible in some way for the attempt you had made on your life, and whatever he has done to you is cloaked in something deeper than just your physical affliction. You must relearn to trust in yourself, trust in me and, most important, trust in the Lord. Your calling is from the Lord. Believe it. As for being tormented by Abaddon, I’m aware he’s not stopped disturbing you in your sleep. Gabriel has informed me about it. What I want to know is why he has this stranglehold on you. What did he do to you? Can you try to remember?”
I looked up from his shoulder and shrugged. “We fought. We fought for a long time. And he won that time. I don’t remember anything else aside from the fact that he had wanted to recruit me into his army and he employed sorcery and spells to scare me, and threats to intimidate me, and he took advantage of his might to injure and browbeat me into submission.”
“All right,” Mika smiled. “But as I recall, you were left with a massive head concussion after the series of assaults inflicted on you by Abaddon and his posse. You might have sustained some memory loss as a result.”
I shook my head: “No. No, no, no, no. I haven’t forgotten anything. I would know if I have amnesia, and I don’t. I can recollect all my past experiences without any difficulty. Go ahead, test me.”
The Archangel succoured me. “Take it easy, Little One, I was merely suggesting. Don’t be anxious. As far as Abaddon, I assure you, the elders are leaving no stone unturned to locate him and bring charges of subverting the rules against him. And I assure you, you’re not going to come to any more harm from him. I won’t let it. I’ve fortified the security of your quarters here and at base, you’ll see. But even more important, the Lord is faithful and He won’t let it. I’ve not been the only one concerned. The Lord has been as well; He still is. He’s given His word that Abaddon will be delivered into our hands for judgment.”
“The Lord,” I whispered, surprised at the revelation.
Mika nodded: “How do you think you ended up at the Mount Shinar University Hospital to begin with?”
“But, if that’s true, why did I AM save me only after letting me almost die in Abaddon’s hands?” I asked. “And why did He leave me at the hospital in New Canaan to be freely pursued by Abaddon, and not Petra where I might have been protected?”
“Mostly,” the Archangel began, his voice even, “for a greater purpose we cannot comprehend till the big picture unfolds. I AM has His reasons, and that’s what I’ve learned from serving Him the last six thousand years. Often, His reasons for allowing suffering and chastisement involve training His servants to increase in faith. Not infrequently, the Lord allows an adversity to come their way in order to deal with an existing weakness in their character: for instance, if the weakness is one of impatience and expecting instant gratification, the Lord will bring about trials that will test their patience, over and over again, until they get it right. Until they learn to wait on Him and obey His will. It’s all a part of His desire to perfect His children and prepare them for His kingdom. Always, the outcome of the Lord’s trials is the revelation and demonstration of God’s great glory and sovereignty.
“Know this for sure: throughout your assault, God has never left you. If He’s promised never to abandon or forsake His own, you can believe it to be true. The Lord cannot contradict His Word. The Lord Jesus was the One who had delivered you just before Abaddon was about to have you consigned in chains somewhere in his lair. And the Lord Jesus was also the One who had led Remiel to locate you at Mount Shinar.”
“And you know all this because?” I asked.
“I know all this because I had returned a few hours ago from being in the Lord’s presence at the Divine Council weekly assembly. He wants to hold court with you . . . whenever you’re ready.”
“Eheyeh wants an audience with me,” I stated. “Me.”
He nodded.
“I’m not worthy,” I whispered, my mind flashing to the precipice.
“You’ve expressed your remorse,” he replied. “As far as the Lord is concerned, your slate is clean.”
“And you? Is my slate clean to you, too?”
“I’m not above the Lord, am I?”
“No. If so, then please consider permitting me to return to base. I give you my word: I won’t do anything to harm myself.”
He nodded: “I believe you. Gabriel will arrange to bring you home when the time comes.”
“What of my wings?”
“When the time comes, their usefulness shall be restored to you.”
“You keep referring to some time line.”
“It’s the Lord’s time line.”
I felt perplexed but I could tell from Mika’s body language that I was forbidden from asking for further clarification. I deferred to him, for he was my General, and changed the subject: “I’m sorry my crisis is sowing discord between you and Gabriel, much more than usual.”
He laughed politely. “You think? Yes, I must admit that we’ve been finding our points of view increasingly at odds since the first generation of Halflings joined our fold six years ago. We are free will agents with opinions of our own, after all. Concerning how best to raise and mentor you, it is this variance in opinions that’s throwing us some curve balls. That’s nothing to be concerned about. We enjoy learning from each other’s opposing viewpoints; as a matter of fact, it’s how we feed off each other.”
“Your love for Gabriel has not changed as a consequence, then?” I asked.
“Not at all,” he laughed again. “I have always loved Gabriel and will always love him. That’s never going to change. Nothing can attenuate my love for the brethren and that applies to the kindred and to you, too.”
“Where’s Gabriel?”
“At Headquarters, renovating your quarters, if you must know. You remember we told you we would have your room spruced up before your return from New Canaan, don’t you? If I’m not mistaken, he’s overseeing the final details of your new wall panelling and wainscoting.”
“Wood panelling?”
Mika nodded: “As you had requested. In a favourable turn of events, sending you here while you convalesced has turned out to be a way of decanting you while getting your quarters refurbished.”
I stated: “I wasn’t due to leave District 11 for my furlough for another week yet. If the wall panelling’s the last phase of the renovation, then, Gabriel’s ahead of schedule.”
My handler straightened up on the bed. He informed me: “I want to talk to you about that, too, about District 11, but first, I have something for you.”
He slipped his hand into his trouser pocket and fished out a granola bar: “I’ve heard that this is a favourite of many a human being. I believe you’ll find it more palatable than ox liver.”
I accepted the treat, ripping off the top of the shiny foil before chewing gratefully on a morsel. I hadn’t eaten in so long. Mika stared flummoxed at me for a time and, then, re-gathered himself imperceptibly before continuing: “Before I get too busy and squander the opportunity to let you know, your doctor, Luc Montagna, has asked me to convey to you the well wishes and love of the saints in New Canaan.”
“You’ve spoken to him?” I asked, forgetting my manners. I quickly swallowed what was in my mouth. “How is he?”
“Yes, I’ve spoken to him,” he replied, “and he’s seemed in good health. Perhaps looking just a bit tired.”
“He’s getting on in age,” I stated, taking another bite of the granola bar. “I love the fellow, though; you couldn’t meet a man more gracious, giving and obliging.”
Mika resumed while I ate: “I’m heartened to know you’ve made good friends in New Canaan. Now, about New Canaan – District 11. I’d like you to be still and hear me out, and also try to understand the reason for my decision: you’re no longer posted there, so it’s not just a furlough you’ll be taking. You’re being reassigned to another district; you’ll know which, just as soon as you’re well enough again to be deployed.
“It was an experiment, placing you on work experience in District 11 the past year, and the experiment had been a learning curve, not only for you, but also for Gabriel and me. We had felt you were ready for New Canaan, despite being aware of the panoply of risks to your well-being that this city was going to throw at you. District 11 is Demon Central, with Antichrist, False Prophet and their transgenic race of humanoids making her their centre of operations. That was when Antichrist shifted their Headquarters there from Rome.
“Don’t get me wrong: early in the game, your performance was par your training, and you were applying your skills, in particular your stealth, agility and night vision, to the advantage of the saints there, keeping them hidden from Antichrist’s agents until our brethren were able to evacuate them to Petra, and also drawing huge numbers of others to a conviction of their sin and belief in Eheyeh’s death on the cross for the forgiveness of sins. You’ve made us all very proud of you.
“However, your circumstances started to change when Abaddon was added to the equation, when you captured his attention and he began to take notice of you. Abaddon’s a different ball game from the residents of New Canaan with whom you’ve been accustomed to dealing, since he isn’t just a human being but an angel; he’s the second most powerful of the forces of darkness to be created, so you were always going to be vulnerable.
“It was at this point that I should have reassigned you for your own safety. I had erred in my judgment when I made the call to keep you there until Manolo Valdez could be apprehended. I’m not trying to rain on your parade, for you did exceptionally well to capture Mr. Valdez, and no one can take that accomplishment away from you; but it had been too easy in the end, considering how he had eluded all of us in the last year. Now that I’ve been able to analyze the reason, I realize that Manny might just have been Abaddon’s bait to lure you into the open for a confrontation with him. And we made you take the bite, with deleterious results.
“And so I owe you an apology. I was sworn to be your handler but, instead, I put you in harm’s way. I had sworn to protect you but you almost died on my watch. Hence, I’m relieving you of District 11. It’s more trouble than you’re equipped to handle.”
I shook my head, despising the notion that I was responsible for Michael’s feeling conflicted. “I’m not appropriating any blame . . . you’re punishing me for Manny.”
It was Mika’s turn to shake his head, but he remained composed as always: “Not at all, tragic one. You misunderstand me. Nevertheless, it wasn’t up to you to offer him salvation. It was too late for him – he had accepted the number of the Antichrist. And by so doing, he had condemned himself.
“No, you’ve said as much yourself: you’re getting no rest or sleep, and the denizens there are depraved and unregenerate. The emotional toll on you has been enormous, and I ought to have seen it coming. In addition, I ought to have also known that Abaddon wasn’t going to give up trying to tempt you to the enemy’s side, after that failed encounter with you on the rooftop at New Canaan. I had taken for granted that the Fallen One would not renege on the Lord’s commands. I was wrong and, in this instance, I have failed you. So this isn’t about Manny; it’s about Abaddon. I’m reassigning you not because I’m standing you down for disobeying your instructions concerning Manny. It’s because I want you protected from Abaddon and his transhuman and demonic armies. I do believe that a respite from District 11 will benefit you. In any case, your brother, Ariel, has been covering for you while you’ve been convalescing.”
“Ariel’s an obvious choice,” I stated supportively.
“I believe he is, too,” he smiled. Then, he studied my face while he tried to read my thoughts.
I wasn’t happy with his decision but put on a poker face.
“Do I have your permission to join you?” he asked after a while.
“Of course, you do,” I replied. “You are my Dad; you don’t have to ask.”
My elder stretched out beside me on the bed and then explained: “That’s the polite thing to do. But now, I would like to tell you a story . . . if I may.”
I nodded.
The elder crossed his ankles and began: “This is a tale of two brothers, Cian and Llyr, born into poverty and abandoned at an orphanage at birth, owing to poverty. Although they grew up together at the same orphanage, having similar experiences and attending the same class at the same school right through high school, they would assume very different paths in their adult lives.
“Whereas Cian, the older brother by ten minutes, became an indentured apprentice at an auto school, his brother became a food vendor, peddling his potato pancakes from a rented truck while avoiding being harassed by municipal officers and laboring from dawn to midnight.
 |
| "Cian became an indentured apprentice at an auto school." |
“Llyr was tutored in street survival: over time he would form a cold exterior and a sense of detachment from the world. He had felt that this was his best self-defense mechanism against the harsh and unfriendly realities of his life.
“Cian, too, was a hard worker but one who had an unstinting and humble heart. One could infer by Cian’s actions that he did not entertain any fantastical notions about life dealing him an easy hand . . . unless he first extended to it his helping hand.
“Long story short, before their mother, Áine Molony, passed on due to early onset Alzheimer’s, she would pay them a visit and it was at this time that the brothers found out the truth surrounding their circumstances. She had wanted to tell them the truth before she couldn’t remember anything anymore.
 |
| "Llyr was tutored in street survival." |
“While in high school, their mother became seriously involved with a popular athlete, named Faolán Hawthorne, and found herself in the family way as a consequence of one of their giddy trysts. When Faolán’s parents, Tadgh and Eirinn Hawthorne, were informed of the unplanned pregnancy, they gave Áine one of two options: terminate the pregnancy or see it through its full term and give up the newborn for adoption. (At this time no one had known that Áine was carrying twins.)
“Having been raised a Catholic, Áine was unable to bring herself to commit the murder of her baby and so chose the second option. Faolán’s parents would give her an allowance to help with expenses and medical consultations throughout her pregnancy. This was quite a generous amount. However, the condition of this allowance was that she must sever ties with Faolán after the baby’s birth. She was given another large payout later to keep her quiet, post-labour, and as surety, forced to sign an NDA.
“In addition to the identity of their father and grandparents, the boys would learn of their family’s immense fortune that had been built on the energy industry. Research by Oxfam had put them among the top thirty wealthiest people in Ireland throughout the better part of the twenty-first century.
“Now, the brothers’ reactions to their mother’s disclosure were poles apart.
“Over the course of growing up into middle age, Llyr managed to topple the Hawthorne family dynasty and seize control of his grandparents’ company, which he did with a combination of visionary ideas, shrewd wheeling and dealing and exploitation of his masculinity (vis-a-vis using the latter to capitalize on his knowledge of Eirinn Hawthorne’s closeted libertinism in order to seduce and blackmail her. As a consequence he would gain a foothold in the business, standing him in a favourable position to obtain a lion’s share of its stocks.) By the time he was done exacting his revenge, he had risen to the top of the family totem pole, from the position of chauffeur to that of CEO of their company.
“Llyr’s approach to revenge would have extensive ramifications for the once-enviable family and for his relationship with Cian: their father, Faolán’s marriage ended in divorce (long before his estranged sons interjected themselves into their lives he had married a Scottish girl named, Makenna, and had three children with her); unable to cope with the ruination of his status, power and reputation, Tadgh Hawthorne threw himself off the building he himself had erected; and, in the aftermath of her husband’s suicide, Eirinn Hawthorne lost her mind and was committed to psychiatric care. As for Llyr’s own relationship with his twin, Cian, which had used to be so close they were thought to be joined together at the hip, it would become strained to breaking point. A tinderbox ignited in their relationship when Llyr threatened to commit fratricide unless Cian relented from dissuading him from executing his revenge plans toward their climax. All of this would take place in a matter of a decade.
“In contrast to Llyr, because unyoked by bitter reflections and scathing resentment toward his grandparents and father, Cian chose to forgive and forget, believing that his destiny laid not in his birthright and what it could endow him. Instead it laid in his being born a free man with power and control over the choices he made concerning his life and destiny.
“‘I cherish wisdom more than fortune, and agency more than entitlement,’ he had told his younger brother as they parted ways for good.”
Mika stopped talking. I glanced up at him.
“Why have you told me this tale?” I asked.
“It was a cautionary tale,” the General replied.
“Clearly,” I stated, “and don’t get me wrong; I mean, it’s a moving story, but . . .”
I pursed my lips, feeling some uncertainty about how to proceed.
My General smiled: “Well, think on it and, then, when you’ve figured out the answer to your own question, let me know.”
“Okay,” I stated, “but remind me in case I forget.”
After a short moment of thoughtful introspection, I asked: “That was you, wasn’t that? You were with Gabriel the morning I was very sick?”
“Which morning, son?” Mika asked.
“The morning I was in the fever,” I replied. “It was you. I caught sight of you in that second the shock of being submerged in iced water had woken me.”
“Ah, you must be referring to the ice bath. I wasn’t aware you had been awake. You had seemed in a comatose state throughout your treatment.”
“I was for the most part,” I admitted. “So it was you then? I knew it.”
“Yes, son, it was I.”
“They thought I was a eunuch,” I said afterward.
“What?”
“At Mount Shinar University Hospital,” I explained. “The staff thought I was a eunuch.”
My handler smiled: “I’d rather they suspected this than knew to a certainty you were part angel.”
“Why?” I snickered. “Do you think they would use me as a lab specimen for research if they knew?”
“Man has been known to commit worse atrocities in his ignorance,” he observed. “You’ve read about some of these in Foxe’s Book of Martyrs; and you’d probably be certifiable by the time the staff was through with you.”
I smirked: “I had a lucky save.”
“Not lucky, beloved, but the Lord was in control.”
We heard a knock on the door. Michael opened it with a light flick of his finger.
The angel, Oreniel, approached me, saying, “These came for you in the mail. I didn’t have the opportunity to deliver them to you earlier. Postmark indicates New Canaan. They’re heavy.”
I took the parcels from the Guardian Angel and opened them up. My face beamed.
“Did you have anything to do with this?” I asked Mika.
He nodded. “I figured you might want to be more productively engaged while you convalesced.”
“This is a pleasant surprise,” I smiled. “Thanks. And thank you, Oreniel, for delivering them to me.”
“Raphael’s just brought Zuriel back from Djibouti,” Oreniel informed my handler. “He was wounded but Raphael believes it isn’t serious.”
Mika nodded, getting up. He turned to me: “Abishael’s army of sentinels is on patrol around this facility, so help is just outside the door if you need it. Try to get some rest while I’m gone. I won’t be too long.”
I nodded.
“Oh, and I hope nothing in those boxes got damaged in transit,” he stated at last before leaving with Oreniel.
