Angelic Pathways (21 page)

“I don’t get it.” I looked to the four angels but directed my comment to the quieter one, Cassiel. There was something about him that frightened me and intrigued me at the same time. He hadn’t looked at me once, or at least not that I’d noticed, but my eyes were fixed on him as I silently willed him to look my way. When he did, a chill came over me and I was overcome with tears.

“Ironic, isn’t it?” he spoke softly. I was taken aback at how much we resembled each other. I walked to him and gazed into what looked like my own eyes. He offered a soft smile and then glanced at Michael, Raphael, and Gabriel.

“I’ll take it from here,” Cassiel muttered, and before I could follow his gaze, the other three angels were already walking away.

“I’m not a Christian.” Michael seemed to mock me.

“Well, more and more humans are saying that,” Gabriel sighed, and they were gone.

“Am I going to Hell?” Memories started crashing down upon me, memories of good deeds and not-so-good deeds. What really tugged at me were thoughts of my mother, my sister, and my fiancée. Would I ever see them again? There were so many things I wanted to tell them, to tell my friends. There was so much left undone.

“Do you want to go to Hell? I can arrange it,” Cassiel said off-handedly as if it were a common request from the dead. I felt as if my heart had dropped into my stomach, and the feeling must have translated to my eyes. Cassiel put up his hands to calm me. “Chill, man. You’re not going to Hell.”

I simply shook my head and was somewhat relieved that it was an option I could pass on. Without another word, Cassiel walked away. Naturally, I followed him with my mind full of questions to which I could not lend my voice. We walked for what seemed like forever in complete darkness. I could see him just fine, and myself, but there was nothing around us except this silent void.

After a long while, I finally asked, “Where are we going?”

“You tell me. You have questions. I’m just walking until you say something.”

“Can I see my father?” The thought hit me suddenly. I had not seen my father in twenty years. He died when I was a child, but his legacy had haunted me well into my adulthood. He was an artist in his own right, the likes of which your reality may never see again, and as a highly respected professional, he had throngs of students whose interest in his skills had brought immense attention not only to his art but to his charismatic personality. He quickly became a legend not only in my mind, but in the minds of many—a legend that is still honored to this very day. But at the pinnacle of his career, he made a quiet exit from the human world, leaving behind his students, friends, and family. And me.

I grew up in the shadow of his legacy, desperately trying to avoid it and live up to it at the same time. So many nights I had cursed his existence, raised my fist up to the sky in anger and spite, demanding answers: I wanted to make a life that was my own, but I carried his last name, his eyes, and obviously a part of his soul. He was inescapable it seemed. No matter where I went, I was never me; I was always “his son.” So what better time than now to ask him why? Was it something I had done or something he had done? Upon his death I was left with so many questions, knowing that only in my own death would I get answers. That moment was upon me now, and I couldn’t stop shaking with anticipation.

“Jake, there’s no sense in asking why.” Cassiel had watched me process dozens of questions and even more emotions in the matter of a nanosecond.

“Well,
why
?” I prodded. This was my chance to get all the answers I had waited a lifetime for.

Cassiel turned away, rolling his eyes in supreme annoyance. He led me to a door in the darkness and placed his hand upon it.

“Because everything just is, Jake. And the only answer you will ever get, but that will never satisfy your human mind, is ‘because.’ ”

“You sound like my mom when she used to say, ‘Because I said so,’ ” I grumbled.

Cassiel opened the door, and we both were bathed in sunlight.

“Um, how about some clothes, or does everyone run around Heaven naked?” I had been covering myself with my hands up until that point.

Cassiel shoved me through the door. I whipped around to look back at him, but found myself instead staring into a lush forest. With a huff, I looked down at myself to see that I was dressed Cassiel-style with a pair of black jeans and a t-shirt.

“Thanks, I think.” I looked up to the bright blue skies and then made another one-eighty to face a magnificent garden that brought back countless childhood memories. I was home. Though I couldn’t remember if the garden had really been home at one time or just a childhood dream, I know that I always felt at peace there, safe.

Wind chimes sang on the breeze as I wandered down a winding brick path toward a crystal-blue lake. I stood on the shore, taking in the grandeur of the moment. I felt compelled to kneel before the majestic mountains across the lake as I watched them reach into the cloudless infinity of a sun-kissed sky, but then my eyes drifted upshore to a bamboo bridge and curiosity carried me there.

The bridge stretched across the lake to a gazebo that floated effortlessly on the waters. And then I saw him. I stood in silence, though with some amusement, and watched him; I remembered him being so much taller when he was alive. Perhaps I was no exception to those who always thought my father was larger than life.

“What took you so long?” He smiled but never interrupted his meditation.

“Had to grow up, I guess, and finish what you started,” I smirked as I sat on the floor and watched him like I used to when I was a kid.

“Ah, all the
trouble
I started, you mean. Mother still angry with me?”

“No, she loves you, Dad. You know that.”

“You still angry?”

“You’ve no idea.” My heart sunk. The word “why” was on the tip of my tongue, but I held it there thinking of Cassiel’s warning.

“I was finished. It’s just that simple, son.”

“Just that simple? Dad, you left us there alone. It’s like you were there and then you just suddenly disappeared into thin air like Houdini. And to make my life worse, everyone starting looking at me as if you would suddenly reappear through me like some phantom. Like somehow I would be able to resurrect you or reincarnate as you …
become
you. I knew that at the funeral. Everyone was whispering as I walked by and I pretended not to hear, but I did hear them, Dad. Maybe I imagined a lot of it or embellished the memories a bit, but I know what I felt. I remember feeling that I had to be you now ’cause that’s what everyone wanted. That’s what Mom wanted.”

“It’s unfortunate that you felt that way. I only wanted you to be whomever you wanted to be. That’s all.”

“Well, you weren’t there to tell me that, now were you?” My words were biting now, and I was back on my feet. The anger I had kept inside for twenty long years had finally come to the surface at full velocity, and I paced near the door of the gazebo wanting to hit something—anything!

“Then hit me,” Dad simply said, and I turned to him, my eyes full of shock.

“What?”

“You heard me. Let me see if you learned anything worth learning.” My own father, the man I had come to revere and respect with my whole soul, was taunting me to a fight like some street bully.

The challenge diffused my anger and brought a sly grin to my lips. I circled my father, sizing him up. Yeah, it was time to show him how far I had come without him.

I took my place before him and bowed deeply. I held it, realizing what was happening. It was the moment of a thousand lifetimes. I was really here! I was with my father again, but in a flash it dawned on me that he hadn’t aged a bit. He was the same as I remembered when I was a child, so I couldn’t help but stare a while. Like the lake around us, his eyes reflected sunlight at me as he smiled. He must have known what I was thinking: I was planning to take it easy on my old man, but he looked to be in better shape than I was.

“And we’re waiting for … what?” he taunted. With that I made the first move, and in the warmth of the sunlight, in one of Heaven’s many gardens, we sparred like two tangling dragons. It was like a dream; maybe it was a dream. But do the dead dream? Or do they live their dreams? At the moment, I didn’t care. More importantly, I didn’t care enough to ever ask why or how. I just know that for that moment, I experienced a joy that no words could ever express, even though my father, in all his strength and grace, royally kicked my ass.

“My son, you have my heart and my will, but you still need a lot of practice.” With that he walked away, across the bridge, and disappeared inside a little cabin. I just stared at him with my mouth wide open, surprised for a few moments, before I followed him into the cabin.

He placed two bowls on the table. “Sit. You have a long journey ahead of you.” With that, it was as if he had ripped my heart out for the second time.

“What?” I said, leaning over the table and gazing at him. “I just got here. Why do I have to leave?”

“Because you’re not done. You have a lot more work to do, son.”

“And you are done? You’re just retiring like that? Dad, talk to me. I don’t understand any of this!” I quickly took his hand in mine. “I don’t want to go.”

“You have to. We all do. We all have work to do, son.”

“What about you? Where are you going?”

“Same place as you … eventually.”

“Dad, no riddles. C’mon.” In case you’re wondering, you can get headaches in Heaven, and I remember mine being massive. Maybe I just imagined it, but I distinctly remember rubbing my temples and then my sinuses. Great, I was allergic to the flowers in Heaven’s garden and was beginning to understand why some people may have asked Cassiel to direct them to Hell after all. Heaven didn’t offer answers, just more questions!

“It is not a riddle, son. I told you before, it’s simple. Stop making things complicated.”

“Wha … complicated? We haven’t even
said
anything yet!” My head dropped to the table in defeat with a thud. “Just send me to Hell,” I moaned.

“Be careful what you ask for …”

“Yeah, yeah,” I groaned again. I got up and went to the window to look out at the lake again. Surreal doesn’t even begin to describe the sheer beauty of this place. The sun was setting and the stars were already high in the sky. The scene was magical.

“Mom’s gonna kill both of us,” I smirked. My father sighed with me and put his hand on my shoulder.

“I’ve no doubt of it, son. No doubt in that woman whatsoever.”

“So is it like this all the time here? Is each day always so perfect?” I peered out the window, and still there was not a single cloud in the dusky sky.

“It can be if you want. It only rains here when you want it to.” My dad patted my shoulder and retreated to the fireplace.

I could easily say that I stayed a lifetime there on the lake with my father, playing catch-up for the years lost between us. When he said that I had to leave on a journey soon, I feared leaving but quickly came to the realization that I had to cherish the time I did have with him. When I took that understanding into my soul, time stopped. The sun stood still, and night never came.

By the fireplace, my father and I talked forever, it seemed. And you know what? I was so caught up in his life and he in mine that the question
why?
never came to mind again.

Just when you begin to get settled in and come to the realization that Heaven is as good as it gets, there comes a knock on the door. I had no idea how much time had passed before Cassiel came along to yank me from my paradise, but he looked oddly out of place in the sunlit garden with his pale features, dark eyes, and raven-black hair. In stark contrast to Raphael and Gabriel, he wasn’t the happiest or prissiest of angels, to say the least.

The dark angel pushed his way past me and into the cabin, surveying the room like a recon soldier. He found my father sitting in the corner with his eyes closed, meditating.

“He’s going to hate you, Cassiel.” My father’s lips didn’t even seem to move.

“He won’t be the first one,” Cassiel said, bowing deeply to my father, who simply nodded back.

“Hey, don’t talk about me like I’m not here. What’s going on?” And my father was right. I would hate Cassiel, as the dark-winged angel turned to me and handed me a piece of paper. It looked like a rolled sheet of legal paper, but when I opened it, the damn scroll fell to my feet, hit the floor, and rolled out the door and into the garden.