“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?”