—my father? What about my father, Calliel? If you are supposed to be a guardian, if you are supposed to watch over and protect the people of Roseland, what about my father?
For a moment, I almost refuse. Too much has been laid at my feet and I need time to process it, away from him. I need to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do. In my heart, pounding with a ferocious ache, I know I believe him. My rational mind is telling me, No. It’s saying, No, how could it be? How could something like this actually be? But my heart is winning the war and I am beginning to believe. Still, I need to think. I need to focus.
I’m at the ladder before I realize I’m even walking. I’m on the first two rungs when he peers over the edge of the roof down at me. He waits for me to climb up another rung or two before he extends his hand, watching me. He must see the hesitation in my eyes. He must see the conflict in my soul, the way the battle wages. So he waits, hand extended but unmoving. I hesitate, but not for long. I reach up and put my hand in his and I’m pulled up in one fluid motion onto the roof. He lets me go as soon as my feet are set. He turns from me and sits back down on the roof, facing east.
I am slow to follow, unsure what he’s asking of me. I don’t know if he’s dangerous. I don’t know what his purpose is, his point in being here. I don’t know anything, it would seem.
But all that goes away when the golden flash appears over the Cascades, the sun rising on a new day. It’s not something I’ve taken the time to watch in a long time. I sigh and move to sit next to Cal, not touching, but close enough that I am aware of him. He seems to be in an almost religious rapture as the sunlight touches his skin. He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, and I want to know what his thoughts are right now, right at this moment, this second.
I shiver, because it’s still cold. He hears me and opens his eyes again before he takes off Big Eddie’s coat and drapes it over my shoulders even as I protest. The vest he wears still leaves part of his chest exposed and his right nipple pebbles against the cool air. The sun hits the deep red curls on his chest and looks like fire.
I have to ask. I have to. “Cal?” I say quietly.
He smiles. “Yes, Benji.”
“Couldn’t you… could you not guard my dad?”
He bows his head, the sun dancing off his hair. I feel him shudder next to me, and when I look over, a single tear sli
des from his eye and catches the sunlight, refracting it until it’s almost too bright to look at. It takes forever to fall and there’s a sharp pain in my head like a cold explosion, but then, like all things, the moment passes. I want to take my words back but I don’t know how. No one has cared about my words in a long time. I’ve forgotten how to use them correctly.
“Even I can’t stop death,” the angel Calliel says hoarsely. “No matter how much I wish it so.”
The sun continues to rise on a new day so very different from the ones that have come before.
part ii: black
The man at the end of his life did not want to cross the river. Others had come to the shore and crossed with smiles on their faces. The River Crosser came back each time and held out his hand to the man, but the man always took a step back because the hand scared him. Once, while the River Crosser was on the opposite side of the river, the man at the end of his life went to the edge to look at his reflection in the water. He kneeled on the bank and leaned over as far as he dared, careful not to fall in. He saw that he did not have a reflection. Everything was black.
the woven design
By the time the sun is completely over the mountains, I can barely keep my
eyes open. Cal has been quiet ever since I asked him about guarding my father, but the sunrise seems to soothe him, at least partially. He smiles at me as I yawn big, my jaw cracking. My eyes droop and my chin falls to my chest before I jerk awake.
“I gotta get some sleep,” I mumble at him. He nods and pulls me up. He makes me wait while he goes down the ladder first and then holds it as I step down each rung, staring up at me intently. He’s guarding, I tell myself sleepily, ignoring that twinge in my chest. We are in the house and down the hall before a thought occurs to me. “Are you tired?” Do you even sleep?
He shrugs. “I may need to rest my eyes,” he says.
I resist the urge to have him explain further. I don’t think my brain can handle anything more than what I’ve already been told. Part of me is still convinced this is the world’s longest dream and that I’m going to wake up in my bed in an empty house, Cal already fading from my mind, forgotten in a week’s time. I show him the spare room across from mine, which has a large bed with clean sheets. I tell him to check the drawers because I’m pretty sure there are some of my dad’s old clothes in there. I tell him it’s probably a good idea for him to change out of his skirt/tunic thing until we can figure out something more appropriate. He nods, but doesn’t go into the room.
“You’re not going to leave, are you?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.
He watches me for a moment. “No, Benji. I won’t leave.”
I nod, my eyes starting to close on their own. “Just don’t leave the house yet,” I mumble to him as I turn. “And if someone knocks on the door, just ignore it. Don’t need you telling them everything about themselves and that you know God personally or some bullshit.”
“Then what should I tell them?” he asks, sounding confused.
“I’ll be up in a while,” I say. I close the door behind me.
“Good morning, Benji,” I think I hear him say quietly through the door, but I can’t be sure if I have imagined it.
My eyes open and I’m standing at mile marker seventy-seven. Rain falls from
a gray sky. Thunder rumbles in the distance. The river looks swollen against the banks, the water dark and choppy. I look up to the sky and say, “I am not here.” Rain falls into my mouth and I choke.
There’s a flash and the rain has turned to feathers.