Common Ground (The Common Ground Trilogy Book 1) (17 page)

The next morning went better than expected. Annie was up and gone by the time I woke, which meant no drama would befall me before midterms. It was also the first night of dreamless sleep I’d gotten in what felt like ages, which helped me easily fly through Philosophy and Statistics. Professor Woodward’s exam crept up quicker and quicker with each passing hour before I found myself standing in front of his office, my stomach churning with nerves.

I opened the door and found Annabelle’s comforting face smiling back at me. She was speaking very politely to someone on the other end of the phone while she gestured for me to take a seat. I pulled out my cell phone and saw that I was a few minutes early. My hands reached into my bag and hauled out Professor Woodward’s massive book. With my hands shaking slightly, I skimmed through random pages where yellow sticky pads had been strategically placed. After five minutes, Annabelle interrupted my studying.

“He’s ready for you now Zoe,” she said happily. When I passed her, she handed me a lollipop. “Good luck and Happy Halloween.”

“Thanks Annabelle, you too,” I said, reciprocating a smile. I pocketed the lollipop and strode into Professor Woodward’s office.

The familiar scent of old oak and musty books struck my face when I entered the office. It was comfortably dark again and the only light was the bright afternoon sun shining in through the massive wall of windows behind his desk. There had been a change since my last visit and it stood out instantly. Instead of two casual chairs sitting on the opposite side of his immaculate desk, two executive leather chairs sat in their place with a small, smooth oak table in between. Professor Woodward sat behind his desk with glasses on, writing feverishly on a pad of yellow paper.

“Just one second Zoe, please have a seat,” he said, lifting his head for a split second.

I sat down and jammed his book back into my bag with violently shaking hands. While I sat there waiting, my eyes wandered towards a close by stack of books. Each book had either angel or demon in its title, and the stack was at least ten books high. Luckily, he was a scholar on the subject or else I would have started to think he had some sick obsession. It took him another minute to finish up his notes and finally take a seat in the rather comfortable looking chair across from me. The notepad he had been writing on when I walked in was absent, as was any trace of a writing utensil. Apparently, he meant what he said when he talked about the midterm being more of a discussion than a test. When he sat down and our eyes met, my heart sank as my nerves kicked into full gear. His paper thin lips were slightly creased and his eyebrows were burrowed into his nose. For the first time ever, he looked completely serious.

“Ready to begin?”

Chapter 8: Secrets Revealed

“Okay Zoe, you’re doing exceptionally well so far,” Professor Woodward said after I answered what seemed to be the hundredth straight forward question.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, while my head rested lazily on my palm. At that point, any butterflies that had engulfed my nervous system had been replaced with impatience from the unexpected simplicity of the exam.

“Now, I want to switch gears and dive into some discussion on angels and demons. Are you holding up alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine Professor,” I said, excitement starting to quickly build inside.

The moment I’d been waiting for had finally come. Just at the mention of the words, the atmosphere in the room improved dramatically. Professor Woodward’s body weight shifted noticeably. Instead of sitting erect, he leaned slightly forward towards me looking eager. I pulled myself up straight in my chair and felt reinvigorated with the same energy I had before the exam started.

“First of all, I know that this topic has caught your attention more than the others. The fact that you finished my book in a month shows me that you have a vested interest in it.”

He paused and looked at me keenly. I slunk back in my chair slightly, unsure of what to make of his excited gaze. He then continued on.

“So, the questions I will ask you regarding angels and demons will be heavily focused around what was written, and your interpretations of it.”

“Okay,” I said nervously, suddenly unsure of what to expect even with his simple explanation.

“Over the course of history, the existence of angels and demons has been debated incessantly, and that argument continues today. However, the purpose of angels and demons seems to have changed in contemporary times. That leads me to my first question. In the last chapter, modern beliefs on the existence of angels and demons are discussed. Please describe at least one of these beliefs, and explain how it relates to ancient theories.”

I breathed deeply before responding. “In older times, angels and demons were viewed more as symbols of light and dark, good and evil. That symbolism is still around today, but it goes a step further now. One of the biggest theories about angels and demons today is their influence on human behavior. Angels are viewed more similar to guardians, and they exist to protect humans from evil. On the other hand, demons are portrayed as possessive beings that can physically take over a human body and force it to do evil actions.”

Professor Woodward nodded feverishly. “That’s very good. And what is your opinion of this belief?”

I swallowed hard, unsure if I could find the ability to criticize his book.

“Don’t worry,” he encouraged, looking expectant. “Speak freely.”

“In all honesty,” I stuttered, “that was the one chapter I had a hard time agreeing with.”

“Oh?” he chuckled while a thin smile spread across his lips. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

It wasn’t the exact reaction I expected, given the fact I had just told him that there was a chapter in his book that didn’t make much sense to me. I adjusted myself uneasily in my seat while he sat there silently.

“Why is that?” I finally asked.

“Let’s just say that you are your father’s daughter,” he joked. A longing look had taken over his face, one that was mixed with joy and pain.

“I’m sorry?” I replied rather forcefully as the mentioning of my father brought up a whole new set of emotions.

“Forget I said anything,” he coughed awkwardly, erecting himself fully. “Please, discuss what aspects of the chapter you found controversial.”

It wasn’t easy to just forget a mention of my parents, especially around Professor Woodward. Given the apparent history between them, he was the closest link I had, outside of the Johnsons. I sat for a moment, thinking of what to do next. A big part of me wanted to abandon whatever pieces remained of the most bizarre exam I’d ever taken and delve into my troubled past again. But, the smaller portion inside won over as I calmed myself and focused on the question at hand.

“In the chapter,” I started, feeling frustrated, “there was a discussion on the concept of angels and demons and their influence on the world. It seemed a little farfetched to make claims and cite testimonies of people who believe that angels and demons actually have a stake in our existence.”

“Okay, enlighten me as to why you think that,” he responded inquisitively.

“It reminded me of the debate we had in class a few weeks ago when the unit started. Most of the students agreed that angels represent good and demons embody evil. They also agreed with the argument that the book made, and what has been around for centuries, that angels and demons have a vested interest in our lives, and actually influence our actions and decisions. That they walk around amongst us, looking and acting like regular humans, just seems too hard a pill to swallow. It was impossible to believe then, and it is still hard to believe now.”

“What makes it so unbelievable?” he retorted.

“Humans have free will to make their own decisions in life. Believing that angels and demons somehow live amongst us and influence our lives completely eliminates that concept. If we truly were being watched over by supernatural beings, that means every decision I make, or will ever make isn’t really my decision. I just can’t accept that I have no control over my life.”

“But doesn’t the whole concept that angels and demons each represent good and evil explain why some people are good and some are bad?”

“Not really. I don’t think good and evil are so clear cut. I’ve known some very good people in my life who have done bad things. I have also known bad people in my life who have surprised me by doing good things. Good and evil aren’t so black and white; there are gray areas.”

“So, you don’t think it’s remotely possible that angels and demons can be real?” he asked.

“No, I feel safer believing that I’m in complete control of my life,” I said, with each word bringing more confidence.

“Very interesting,” Professor Woodward sighed, slowly pulling his glasses off.

He folded them up and delicately placed them in his chest pocket before turning and looking back at me. The longing look he showed minutes before when the mention of my father came up reappeared on his face.

My frustration returned while I replayed the second half of the midterm in my head. The atmosphere, which had thankfully changed with the topic, had slowly been replaced with anticipation. With every word I spoke, Professor Woodward got more serious than I’d ever seen him. He was building up to something; cross examining every answer I gave and wanting to know more and more about my thoughts on angels and demons. Any feeling of an exam had long since vanished. Something strange was going on, and before I could stop myself, my inquisitive side took over.

“Professor, this is really starting to get uncomfortable. We both know that angels and demons have really interested me, but I didn’t prepare for an interrogation. And, now that you’ve mentioned my father, and implied that you’re not surprised by any of my answers, it doesn’t feel like a test anymore.”

“I’m truly sorry Zoe,” he said, barely loud enough for me to hear. “But you’re right, the test ended quite a while ago.”

My stomach had never sunk so fast in my life. Before I could speak, it took some serious internal control to calm myself down. Anger quickly spread throughout my body at the thought of spending so much time studying for something that didn’t even count. In my best attempt at keeping a polite tone, I spoke again.

“What do you mean the test ended a while ago? Has any of this even counted? What have we been doing the last 10 minutes if it hasn’t been a test?” I disputed through gritted teeth.

“Everything up to our discussion on angels and demons has been graded, and you did a superb job,” he said in an understanding tone.

“What about the angels and demons talk then? What was that all about? Did any of it even matter?”

“It mattered more than you know,” he replied softly. He then looked away from me and stared vaguely ahead.

“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?” I bellowed, unable to contain my frustration any longer.

Professor Woodward sat there and remained calm. My outburst didn’t seem to faze him one bit. My pulse was shooting through the roof and he sat there cool as a cucumber. I’d never been so mad before.

“A lot of this has to do with your history Zoe, and your parents,” he finally said, his voice quickly regaining its strength.

It was impossible to put the puzzle pieces together. How angels and demons related to me and my family didn’t fit together and his vagueness made things harder to comprehend. Even though I desperately wanted to stay angry, my curiosity got the best of me as I crouched back into my chair and took a few deep breaths.

“What about us?” I asked calmly behind closed eyes.

“You don’t see it?” he countered.

“See what?”

“The book I gave you on angels and demons? The questions I asked you today about the subject? Everything I’ve told you about me and about your parents? It’s all connected Zoe, don’t you understand?” he pleaded.

I racked my brain for moment. His insistence that the answer was obvious made something click and, at long last, everything became crystal clear.

“No,” I gasped, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Is it really that hard to believe?” he responded, raising his eyebrows.

“It’s not possible,” I breathed shallowly.

He slowly leaned in closer and rested his elbows on his knees. His fingers were interlocked and shaking slightly and he stared at me without blinking. I stared back into his soft brown eyes, trying to find any trace of a sick joke that he was playing. The only thing I found staring back at me was sympathy. My head shot away towards the glowing light that emanated through the massive glass windows as an uneasy silence filled the room.

“Trust me, it’s possible,” he said. “I know it’s hard to believe now, but it takes everyone some to time to accept the truth.”

“The truth?” I whispered, as my eyes resentfully stared back at his. “What truth? That angels and demons are real? That my parents were angels and so am I? That’s preposterous.”

Professor Woodward sat there, motionless and silent, with an expression of pure empathy. With each passing second, a gradual fear grew inside. Every moment he remained silent, a small piece of the world I knew got ripped from me.

“Your parents weren’t both angels,” he said slowly, with an air of sadness in his voice.

My head shot up instantly and I stared back at him from behind misty eyes.

“Your mom wasn’t an angel, she was a demon.”

Without taking my eyes off of him, I reached down and zipped up my unusually light backpack. Tears had started to flow uncontrollably when I finally stood up. There was nothing more I could say without regretting it forever.

“Wait, where are you going? I thought you were following-” he asked, sounding hurt.

“I’m sorry Professor, but if the exam is over, I need to get going,” I mumbled softly, barely able to hold it back. Before he could say another word, I pulled my backpack onto my shoulders and strode over to the door. I heaved it open without looking back and passed Annabelle, who stood up and placed a shocked hand over her mouth while I flew out of the office crying harder than at any point in my life.

**************************************

Everything was a complete blur. The lightning quick walk home, the seemingly deserted apartment and even the warm, blinding light that shined through my open blinds all felt like a waking nightmare. I slammed the door shut and collapsed onto my bed, sinking slightly into the feather soft mattress. There wasn’t a sound anywhere that I could hear, which seemed to be the only good fortune I’d ever get again. My mind was racing worse than ever, with Professor Woodward and his outrageous claims sitting front row center. Any attempts to close my puffy eyes were met with a cracking resistance from the dried tears that had plastered onto my face. I’d cried so much that no new tears could even form while I lied there, feeling completely helpless.

Without warning, a deep knock ruptured the silence.

“What?” I sobbed weakly. It took every ounce of energy I had, but I was able to turn over on my side and face the bare brown wall adjacent to my bed.

“Zoe, you okay?” a seemingly concerned Annie asked through the door.

“I’m fine, just really tired from today,” I said between sniffs.

“Well, whenever you feel up to it, I could really use a hand cleaning this place.”

The thought of doing anything but lying there seemed unbearable. After everything that had happened, solitude seemed like the only sensible remedy.

“Ann, just give me some space okay? I’ll help in a bit,” I replied shortly, using up my very last ounce of energy.

“Whatever,” she jeered as the sounds of her hard footsteps echoed away slowly.

My mind and stomach were traveling down an endless funnel with the same thoughts continually invading my mind. Angels and demons, my family’s involvement and the absolute insanity involved gave me no reason to want to remain conscious. The only thing that kept me awake was the unnatural amount of emotions that were being sorted out in my head.