Color of Angels' Souls (11 page)

“Forget about all the
sir
stuff. No, there's no reason to start getting paranoid. I wasn't looking for you in particular, even if I know that all the most interesting Angels come here to meet, and I did find your death very interesting. Getting your head chopped off is hardly ordinary. I do my best to keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary that happens, and I'm hoping one day to understand Him and what He hopes to accomplish.”

Jeremy's eyes grew wide. He'd clearly understood the capital H's in the young boy's words.

“Understand
Him
? Understand
who
?”

Einstein leaned closer and whispered, as if he were afraid someone else might be listening: “Why, God of course!”

Jeremy was so surprised by his words that for a few seconds, all he could do was stare at the boy with his jaw hanging open.

“God?”

“Yes, I prefer the generic term
God
. The ‘Great Architect' seems a bit pompous to me. I already didn't like the term much when I was alive, and even less now that I'm dead. And even if it is a feminine concept, the term
God
works just fine.”

“Why? Because you're not sure?”

“No,” Einstein shrugged.

Jeremy wasn't sure he wanted to get into any long theological discussion, but his father and grandfather hadn't arrived yet, so he still had some time.

“Stephen Hawking was wrong,” he finally said to Einstein as he contemplated the Angels. “He thought he could prove that God didn't exist because the principles developed by Edward Witten in his M-theory—the
multiverse
with the simultaneous existence of millions of different universes—made God unnecessary!”

Einstein sighed.

“I can't even be sure of that. It is precisely the M-theory, which groups together the various string theories into one Theory of Everything, that is giving me fits. What if the universe that we now inhabit turns out to be one of those parallel worlds that were created in the Big Bang? When just a few millimeters of matter were overheated 13.7 billion years ago and then
Boom
! Explosion and creation—but not of a single universe, as we once believed, but of millions of universes, infinitely more vast and cold than we'd imagined, including our own, where by some incredible stroke of luck, life was created, and—better yet!—intelligent life.”

Jeremy could feel his neurons heating up.

“So you think we might now be in some alternate universe, created at the same time as our own; is that it?” He struggled to put his thoughts into words. “Like the pages of a book? A point where they all intersect, but with no interaction between the pages, which lay one on top of the other? Layers of universes?”

“Maybe.” Albert extended his hands, placing one on top of the other. “This hand is the world of the living, and the other one, just above, is our universe, the world beyond. Empty, of no use, until the very first souls passed over and, desperately desiring not to die a second time, ‘imposed themselves' on this universe. And what if ours was a protean universe, capable of changing, of adapting to the creatures that enter it? In that case, what could God's role possibly be?”

Just then the saxophone player began a solo that was so perfect, so joyous in its desperation that it sounded like the instrument was crying and singing with one voice. It was … magic.

“You see?” Einstein smiled. “On the other hand, when you hear something as marvelous as that, how can you possibly doubt that God exists— He's the Angel! And He speaks through us.” He gave the red Angels in the room a black look before adding bitterly: “Just as the Devil speaks through them.”

Jeremy nodded, but also couldn't help noticing that everyone in the club—the blue and red Angels and the living—were all enraptured by the music. When the solo ended and the other musicians picked up the theme again, he felt a twinge of regret as he picked up their conversation again.

“Why can't I touch the living, even though walls and objects seem solid? Why do I have to use their vehicles in order to get around? Why do I feel gravity? Where do the food and the emotions that I eat go?”

Einstein hadn't developed any theories about the food. However, if it were true that multiple universes actually existed, he thought that there might be some sort of membrane between the two universes, which surrounded inanimate objects and made them solid for the Angels, but which didn't surround the living. Which was why the Angels could feel inanimate objects but passed right through anything that was living, as if humans and animals had no substance. He didn't know why; that was just the way it was.

OK, then that would explain why Jeremy had fallen through the ceiling of the elevator and had felt pain. He hadn't really crashed down on the metal floor, but on the membrane of the universe surrounding it. And when he had managed to pass through the membrane and had fallen into the elevator, it was because he had been able to dematerialize. But in that case, why didn't the living see him when he dematerialized and passed through the membrane?

“The membrane separating the two universes does not make it possible for the living to see us,” Einstein explained patiently. “Even when we pass through solid objects, it prevents the living from seeing us. But some are able to see, which proves once again that, in this world, there seems to be an exception to every rule. I think that there are places where the membrane is less impermeable, or maybe there are times when the brains of the living are more receptive to our presence. Which may explain why the living continue to believe that Angels have wings.”

Jeremy looked totally lost.

“The very first Angels, when they were alive, were hunters,” explained Albert. “Their imagination was dominated by all the terrible dangers that roamed the Earth. As far as they could tell, only the birds were capable of escaping from these dangers. Their imagination was still quite crude, and so when they passed over, and with time learned how to modify their physical appearance, they created birds' wings in order to fly over the living and nourish themselves. This continued up through the nineteenth century, and the advent of the industrial revolution. Even though Newton had already demonstrated the theory of universal gravitation in the seventeenth century, it wasn't until the nineteenth century that the Angels finally realized that they didn't need wings in order to fly. All they had to do was modify their body weight to become lighter than air. But before they'd finally figured it out, the living had seen them.”

Jeremy quivered at his words. He thought that the living had no way of perceiving Angels! Before he could say anything, Einstein began to explain: “I have talked a great deal about this with the disciples of the great prophets. They told me that, especially when they were dehydrated or famished, they had many visions of our world. In moments of extreme thirst or hunger, they were able to perceive some of the Angels, and even hear them. They saw brightly colored beings with large wings. They described what they'd seen, and illuminators, sculptors, and craftsmen who made stained glass read about their visions and represented us Angels in their work. But over time, as human beings made more scientific progress, they lost their ability to see us. Maybe their minds became closed off to us, or maybe the space that separates our two universes has grown; I can't be sure. In any case, only a very few of the living can see us now, and the majority of them are in the loony bin.”

“Of course,” Jeremy agreed. “If I had started hearing voices, I would have asked for a nice padded room myself. And what about the living dead?”

“
Who
?”

“I mean, what about people who die and then come back to life? You know—people who only spend a few minutes in our world. When they return to the world of the living, they often talk about seeing a light, people waiting for them, or Angels.”

“
Ja, ja
,” Albert finally said. For a moment, he'd been wondering why Jeremy wanted to talk about zombies. “They really can see our world, but aren't sure that it's real. What they say is true—to a certain extent anyway.”

Jeremy nodded, happy to have finally gotten a few answers to his questions.

“You've already cleared up a lot of things for me. But if we put aside all this stuff about multiple universes and get back to God creating the Universe, then why do you think He sent us here? And you said you'd met the ‘disciples of the great prophets': Does that mean you've never met Moses, Jesus, Mohammed, or Buddha, for example? Nor any of the Archangels like Gabriel, Michael, or Raphael?”

Albert pursed his lips. “No,” he said with evident frustration. “Haven't been able to find them, and believe me, I've looked everywhere. As for the reason why we are here, I haven't the slightest idea. We can't recreate a civilization, because anything we build here disappears almost immediately. And we keep poking and prodding the living, provoking them to do more and more outrageous things so that we can feed off of them—”

Without warning, the annoying woman beside them tossed her glass right through Einstein, spilling its contents all over the man sitting next to her. She laughed hysterically as she leaned over to wipe the stain on the poor guy's pants, her hand lingering suggestively near his crotch. The red Angel hovering beside the man began quickly whispering in his ear, and the Mist that began to rise from him left little doubt about his intentions.

“Which explains why there is so much infidelity and jealousy on Earth,” Einstein growled. “Even though most people would be more than happy to just be part of a couple. It's not just a chemistry thing. The Mist of pure pleasure is white, and both colors can eat it, but blue Angels couldn't care less. As long as they have enough to live on. However, it's true that most Angels just float above the living, or their apartment buildings, eating to their heart's content. There are millions of Angels in the city of New York, but I would guess that only about ten thousand of them actually take any interest in what's going on around them. And the most obstinate ones come here, to Rose's & Blues.”

Einstein suddenly grew quiet, as he mulled over his words with bitter resignation. Jeremy waited for him to continue, but as Einstein looked to be lost in his thoughts, he finally asked him another question: “So you think we just ‘pass over' to this world to … to feed ourselves? That's a bit simplistic, isn't it?”

Einstein raised his head.

“Well, you could say that it's the same thing we were doing when we lived on Earth,” he smiled sadly. “I don't want to sound too cynical, but we were born, we lived, and then we died. In the meantime, we nourished ourselves and felt different types of emotions. It's exactly the same thing we're doing here.”

Jeremy contemplated the blue and red Angels, remembering how he had seen one of the Reds disappear just after he passed over. He told Einstein about it.

“I don't know much more about it than you do,” Albert replied sadly. “The reddest and bluest Angels disappear. That's just the way it is. Which is why I try to avoid eating emotions that are too extreme, because, for the time being anyway, I don't want to leave this world—even if, in my opinion, it would only be to ‘pass over' to another universe.”

Jeremy found their discussion extremely interesting, but he still hadn't forgotten why he had come to Rose's & Blues. Metaphysics and cosmology would have to wait for a while. If someone as brilliant as Albert Einstein hadn't been able to prove the existence of God in fifty years, there was no way that puny little Jeremy Galveaux was going to figure it all out. The whole idea terrified him anyway. If you could prove that God existed, then you could also prove that the Devil existed, which was something he didn't even want to think about.

“Since you've been able to learn so much about this universe, maybe you could help me with something,” Jeremy continued. “Do you know how to scare off, destroy, or eliminate an Angel who is trying to make a human go crazy?”

“What?”

He quickly told Einstein about what was happening to his half sister—but didn't tell him everything, as he didn't entirely trust him yet. The young boy began to pensively scratch his thick mop of brown hair.

“We Blues all have the same problem,” he said. “These damn Reds keep ruining the lives of the living and those of the dead.”

He gave Jeremy a very concise explanation. Feelings of love and joy were just as strong as feelings of sadness and hate, which meant that the Reds were no stronger than the Blues. They were just more violent. But there was no way to stop a Red from haunting a living human being.

At least, that's what he said.

It was almost imperceptible—something about the way he shook his head, and then looked down, avoiding Jeremy's eyes. In his business dealings, Jeremy had become an expert in reading body language. He could sense when someone was lying, or hiding information from him.

And Einstein was lying. Or else trying to hide something from him. That much was sure.

With a sigh, Jeremy decided not to pursue the matter. He started to grow suspicious. There must be a way to stop the red Angel from bothering Angela, but Einstein didn't want to talk about it. Why not?

Suddenly, Jeremy perked up with relief: His father and grandfather had finally arrived. He waved at Paul and James, and the two men smiled and made their way over to him.

“
Ach
, a family reunion, I suppose,” said Einstein, remarking the resemblance between the three men. “I'll be on my way then, but if it's OK with you, I'd like to meet again here from time to time, OK? I'd like to know how things work out for you.”

Impatient to see his father again, Jeremy nodded hurriedly and Einstein disappeared in the crowd. Luckily for them, the unbearable woman and her companion also left and the three men had the whole booth to themselves, without having to sit in the lap—or rather,
inside
the lap—of any living people at the club.