He looks miserable when I raise my head from his chest. I am angry, yes, but I don’t know if it’s at him. I’m trying to believe him about what he can and can’t remember, but it seems to be too much of a coincidence. The one person who can answer every question I’ve had about that day also happens to be the one person who can’t remember any of it?
“What about Griggs?” I push. “What about him? Or Mayor Walken? Or the smoker? The smoker who—” I stop. The name. What was his—
Memories, rising.
Walken: You seem to forget, Traynor, that you are operating in my town, with my permission, which makes me your boss.
The gunman: All I wanted was a fucking hit, man! Traynor told me I could get it, that fucking bastard!
“Traynor,” I whisper. Was it something as simple as that? Drugs? Was that a connection? A hit of what?
“Benji?” Cal asks me, looking worried.
“Do you know a man named Traynor?” I ask. “Do you recognize that name? Is he one of yours?” I hadn’t recognized his name or his voice, so he didn’t seem to be a townie.
Cal closes his eyes, and they move quickly behind his eyelids. “No,” he says after a moment. “I don’t know him. I don’t know that name. He’s not one of mine.”
“But you would have to know him if you saw him, right? If he’s in your jurisdiction?”
Cal shakes his head. “Only if something were to happen to him. Only if I could see his thread.”
I didn’t know where to find Traynor, much less cause something to happen to him so Cal could track him. “Why should I stay away from Griggs, Calliel? What are he and Walken doing? What is going on in this town?”
He squeezes his eyes shut. “I don’t know.”
I roll off him and he doesn’t try to stop me. I sit up on the side of the bed and put my feet to the floor, my back to Cal. “I think you do,” I say bitterly. “I think some part of you knows and you’re just not telling me. I think you know far more than you’re saying. I believe you when you say it’s tangled up in you, that you haven’t pulled it apart. But I don’t believe you can’t. I think you’re scared and you’re hiding behind it.”
Blue lights begin to flash in the dark.
“That’s not—”
“How did you come here? You said you were the first. You told me you fell because I called you. How did you do it, Calliel?”
“Oh, Benji,” he whispers. The blue lights are brighter.
I stand up and look down at him, scowling. “You said that angels are tested. That all of you are tested. Maybe this is your fucking test, Cal. Maybe you don’t remember because you’re being tested. Maybe that’s why you exist. Maybe that’s why God needs angels and that’s why you see the threads. Because it’s just some fucking game to him. His tests are nothing but games. You see patterns. You see designs. But you don’t see what’s right in front of you. You’re being played, Cal. God doesn’t give a damn about you. He doesn’t give a damn about me. It’s all a fucking game!”
Cal leaps up from the bed, the flashing lights following him and starting to form behind him. “Nothing about this is a game,” he snarls at me, a look of pure fury on his face. I’d be scared by it if I wasn’t so angry. Just an hour ago we were fucking, I muse darkly. “I am here because of you. I came here because of you. All I want to do is keep you safe! To keep you away from the river!” The accusation in his voice is loud and clear. You did this to me. You brought me here. This is all your fault. You tore me away from the only home I’ve ever known and now you’re pushing me away.
It only succeeds in making me angrier. “Can you say the same thing about my father?” I shout at him. “Where were you when he was drowning? Where were you when he was dying? Did he call for you? Did you promise to protect him too? What about him? Why did you let him die!”
The blue lights explode and the room is suddenly awash in a flash that causes my eyes to burn. Afterimages dance along my vision as I blink, trying to make sense of the darkness falling again in the room. My eyes start to adjust and I see Cal leaning over the opposite side of the bed, curling his hands into the comforter, great blue wings extending from his back, curling against the ceiling, dragging along the floor. Again, they take my breath away. They are surreal. My mind argues with itself, telling me they can’t be real, this is nothing but a nightmare I can’t seem to escape, but I hear them dragging on the floor, and that rustling sound can’t be anything but real. It can’t be anything but here in this room.
Wake up, my father whispers from a fading dream. You gotta wake up, Benji. He’s come down from On High because you called him and you’ve got to wake up. He’s been waiting, yes, but you still brought him here, down to this place. You’ve got to help him. He’s going to act big, he’s going to talk big, but deep down, you two are the same. You must remember this. You are the same.
“You’re right,” the angel Calliel says, standing. His hands are fists at his sides. His voice is something I haven’t heard yet before. Angry. Deep. Cold. His wings shift around him, the deep blue catching the moonlight. “I should have done more. I should have been more. You have every right to be angry. I will try to remember what I did and what was done. You will know as soon as I do.”
The wings begin to fade, as does my anger. Now, I’m just unhappy. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that,” I say quietly. “It’s not fair to you. I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head, but he won’t look at me. The wings are growing dimmer. “No need to apologize. I am a protector, and I need to do my job. I’ve allowed myself to become distracted. I need to be working more on remembering. On trying to figure out how I came to be here and why. I need to know who allowed it. The reason they did.”
“But… I thought you came here for me,” I say, backtracking, wishing I hadn’t said a goddamn thing. My chest hurts. “Don’t you….”
The wings are gone now. He slides into his jeans and shirt. He moves toward the door. I reach out and grab his arm as he tries to move past me. He towers above me, fully clothed. I’m still naked. I tremble at the heat of him. “Where are you going?”
“Out,” he says gruffly, finally looking at me. He looks sad. He looks like he’s been betrayed. “Away. I need to think. I need to focus. I need to make this right. Some of us have lost our Father too.”
The sting of those words overwhelms me. “Will you be back to watch the sunrise?” I ask quietly.