Heaven or Hell (6 page)

“I’m not so sure I want to spend any more time here,” Teresa answered. “What about you, Aunt Jessie?” she appealed.

For whatever reason, Jessie had a need to know more about her brother’s life, and she felt that maybe Teresa should come and see as well. “Well, we’re here, so let’s take a quick peek,” Jessie suggested. Then she turned to Father Benjamin, “How long will it take?”

“Just a few minutes, his office is down the hall and his living quarters are in the next building,” Father Benjamin answered.

CHAPTER 5
 

FATHER BENJAMIN STOOD UP AND MOVED toward the door, grabbing the set of keys he’d placed on his desk earlier that morning. The priest’s motions were so swift he didn’t noticed both women remained seated on the couch until he finally turned to escort them out. They’d been whispering intensely back and forth and continued to speak softly as he waited by the door to show them Juan’s office.

Who could blame the daughter for not wanting to be near anything her father had touched? Who would blame either of these women if they chose to walk away, forever? Father Benjamin had to deal with his feelings of betrayal by Juan, the level of which landed much lower on the Richter Scale than a sibling’s loss, or a daughter’s broken heart.

Had it been less than a week? It seemed like a lifetime ago when the turmoil of Juan’s life exploded into his own. Only last week he and Juan had still worked side by side. They had scoured the streets of Skid Row looking for the General.

“Father, this is not a mission for the timid,” Juan had warned the priest a few years before when he’d enlisted Father Benjamin to help find some other lost soul out in the streets of LA.

“Come on, Juan.”

“I’m not making this up. I know you think I kid a lot, but this is ugly business.”

At the time, Juan had a smile on his face, and his eyes were filled with an unexplainable spark. So the priest thought he was joking, though eventually, Father Benjamin recognized this “look” on Juan’s face as the “look” that could make Lucifer kneel down and pray. Juan had a knack of persuading anyone to do anything, and it began with this particular “look.”

“Marcus.” Father Benjamin was silenced by the sound of his first name. Juan’s smile had disappeared; he held the priest’s eyes. “I can’t describe the odor in these streets. It’s a stench beyond all description. You might feel the need to vomit. You might vomit.”

“I’ll be okay.”

Father Benjamin laughed now at the thought of it. He’d been so sure the street odors and liveliness wouldn’t faze him. He’d spent hours in the shelter and in the church kitchen with homeless men and women. He’d been aware of body, alcohol, and puke odors involved in this work.

Yet nothing had prepared him for the level of stench on Skid Row itself. It was far more intense then he’d expected, or had ever encountered in his life. Juan was right; Father Benjamin didn’t handle that first excursion very well. As he recalled it now, he’d been little help to his helper.

He’d returned home after a short search and an apology to Juan. At least Father Benjamin had refrained from getting sick in front of the other man.

Since that first incident, Father Benjamin had completed many searches on Skid Row with Juan. He’d learned how to handle the stench, and now, Father Benjamin realized, last week when the General disappeared, he and Juan attempted their final search together.

“Okay, let’s get this done quickly.” Teresa stood in front of him. He’d been so engrossed in his own thoughts he’d forgotten the task at hand.

“Oh, sure,” the priest answered.

Earlier, Father Benjamin hadn’t noticed the seriousness in Teresa’s face. But as she stood a few feet away, he saw the deep lines across her forehead and the cold distance of her eyes. Her expression indicated a bitter annoyance.

“Would you rather do this another time?” Father Benjamin asked Teresa.

“Father,” Teresa looked down at her cell phone while she spoke, “I’d rather not do it all. But I promised my Aunt Jessie I’d go with her to see where her brother worked.” Teresa stepped through the office door with Jessie only a few steps behind.

As the aunt approached Father Benjamin, she hesitated right in front of him. At that moment, he thought he saw her wink, an action that reminded him of Juan. He was almost certain, Jessie’s left eyebrow lifted as she winked her right eye. Or was that a twitch? He had to admit, he already missed Juan. His anger toward Juan would only hold out for so long, and that’s how it worked with his friend. The priest knew this one was going to hurt and maybe that’s why he was so angry. He followed the women into the hall and shut the office door.

“Right this way, ladies.” Father Benjamin led the women to Juan’s office while he thought about that search for the General.

The General had been a fixture at the shelter, and Juan believed they could find him and bring him home. Or more importantly, he believed they needed to find him and bring him home. The General, whose nickname was given to him because of his bossy demeanor and the stripes on his jacket, was too old and too sick to stay outside all night. Years ago they’d tried to find his true identity, but to no avail. On this topic, the General had refused to help, or, perhaps, as he’d claimed, he didn’t remember who he was.

When they’d started out on the second day of their mission to find the General, Father Benjamin had told Juan he didn’t look good.

“Thanks, Father, I appreciate that.” Juan smiled.

“Hey, this business isn’t for the timid,” Father Benjamin said.

“Yeah, it seems I’ve heard that, once or twice before. I’ll be okay.”

Juan had been using a cane to get around for the previous few months. On this day, he’d seemed to lean on it somewhat more than usual. His face was pale and he appeared to have lost some weight, yet he looked swollen.

“Have you been to your doctor?” the priest asked.

“Father, we need to find the General.” Juan ignored Father Benjamin’s question.

They’d made it down Washington Street, when Juan had doubled over and collapsed. Knowing this wasn’t a favorite area of emergency services, Father Benjamin had shamefully taken great care in telling the 911 operator this was not a typical call from Skid Row. He’d called back twice, and through it all the priest had managed to wake Juan and keep his friend alive. Thank goodness he’d gotten the ambulance there in less than thirty minutes. They’d saved Juan’s life—or for the moment at least.

After Juan was hospitalized, Father Benjamin learned of Juan’s family and his abandonment of them. Before Juan’s disclosure, Father Benjamin had thought Juan was the closest thing to a brother he’d ever had. Together, they’d seen their share of deaths and tragedies at the center, and they’d bonded through the commonality of their work.

Father Benjamin had been proud of Juan. He’d been under the impression that Juan had defied all odds to become a man fully recovered from his addiction. He’d been through the program, sobered up, stayed clean, and became a leader. A feat that the priest had rarely seen.

Now, Juan’s recovery seemed like a deception to him. He’d felt personally betrayed and used. Indeed, Father Benjamin had helped Juan change his identity from Joe to Juan. Had he enabled this man to hide from his family and not be accountable for his own actions? Had he made up his own version of their brotherly love, too? His friendship with Juan now appeared false. It reminded Father Benjamin of the many one sided, couple relationships he’d personally counseled.

He’d returned to Juan’s hospital room the day after the man was admitted. The day after he promised he’d help him with his daughter. “Why don’t I know this already?” he’d selfishly asked Juan, after Juan had spent a few hours describing the incidents, and the history surrounding the accident, the illness, and his final abandonment of his family.

“How does one go about telling this story, Father? It’s not pleasant. I’m ashamed.”

“Oh, come on, Juan,” Father Benjamin said. “How many Al-anon meetings have you led? How could … Why have we not done this years ago?”

“Father, I’m exhausted.” Juan had a tube in his nose, an IV in his arm, and machines beeping around him. His skin was a yellowish tint, and the priest could see that Juan had trouble keeping his eyes open. “I’m dying. I’d like my daughter to have closure. I’ve never asked you for anything for myself. Just do this, please?”

“Yes, yes. I will,” Father Benjamin answered.

The priest had no choice and yet he worked hard at finding a resolution that didn’t involve him personally. Father Benjamin had developed a list of possible candidates, people whom both he and Juan had worked with, who could bring Juan together with his family. When he’d returned to the hospital, later that day, he’d provided several choices of counselors to Juan who could contact his family, every one of which Juan had declined.

“Father, you agreed to help my daughter. I don’t want anyone else contacting her.” Juan had closed his eyes and swallowed, his voice became a whisper. “This is delicate, please.”

“I’m way too close to this situation,” he’d told Juan.

“Which is exactly the reason I asked you.” Juan had turned toward the window. “The phone numbers and addresses are in my office. I keep them in the notebook, on my shelf, with the word “family” on it … We’re running out of time.”

As it stood now, Father Benjamin believed he could leave the rest of this mission in the hands of Jessie. It was evident she would be at Juan’s side, and she’d do everything within her power to get Teresa to be there too.

“Father, how long have you known my brother, Joe?” Jessie walked at his heels in double time to keep up with his long legs.

“For quite some time.” Father Benjamin stopped in front of Juan’s office.

“So you knew him as Joe?”

“Yes.”

“What did my brother tell you about our family?” Jessie stood by his side at the door to Juan’s office.

“He hasn’t shared much.”

CHAPTER 6
 

ANGEL HAD REMAINED BY TERESA’S SIDE throughout the meeting with the priest. She wanted details on Juan’s abandonment of his family. The entire situation felt familiar, a bit like a movie she’d seen before.

The priest spoke to Teresa and her aunt as they entered Juan’s office. “Your dad spent little time in this room. As you can see, he’s not a paperwork person.”

A desk, a shelf, and a few chairs filled the dimly lit office. Stacks of folders sat on both corners of the desk and the shelf held a pile of white three-ring notebooks.

“We were looking for the General the day Juan was admitted into the hospital.” The priest sat down in the chair farthest from the wall, opposite the desk, and Teresa stood in front of the shelving unit.

Angel immediately focused on two framed photographs near the top of the bookcase. She pointed at the pictures just as Teresa looked up. Teresa’s aunt was oblivious.

“The General?” Jessie asked Father Benjamin.

“Yes, he’s an older gentleman who’s been living in the shelter near Washington Street. When he didn’t check in last week Juan was worried. The General was too old for the night air.”

“Was?” Jessie responded.

“I hope not. We’re still trying to find him,” the father whispered.

Angel’s insides were about to explode over the unseen photos until Teresa finally recognized the pictures and pulled them both down from the shelf. “Look at this!” Teresa turned one frame toward her aunt. “This is me, and that’s Angela. I don’t remember this photo.”

Angel saw the picture and felt the most unusual sensation in her being. So warm and complete, like a soft flutter that grew from a few to a million butterflies floating inside her core and tickling her insides.

“We were young. I think this was right before the accident,” Teresa said to her aunt. “Look. Angela had those silly boots on.” Both women laughed.

“She loved those boots. My goodness, that was taken more than twenty years ago.” Jessie flipped the picture over and read the written words out loud. “Angel and Teresa … That’s right, Joe called Angela his angel, and more often than not he referred to her as Angel.”

“Look at my mother.” Teresa held the other framed photo in her right hand. “I’ve never seen this picture before. I only have that real old one.”

Angel felt a tear—or what would’ve been a tear if she could cry in her world—as she looked at the second photo. She knew this woman. An impression from deep down in her being bubbled to the surface of her consciousness as the words flew out of her mouth. “I know that woman.”

“Did you hear that?” Teresa asked.

“What?”

Angel’s thoughts came to the surface again, and another word flew out of her mouth. “Mother?”

“Again, did you hear that?” Teresa asked.

“Can you hear me?” Angel asked.

“It’s like a low level hum or a ringing, but I swear I heard the word ‘mother.’ Do you think my mother’s trying to talk to me?”

“I don’t hear anything,” the priest interrupted.

Angel had forgotten Father Benjamin was with the women in the cramped office. She stood with Teresa looking down at the pictures and wished the priest would’ve kept his mouth shut. He’d broken the deepest connection she’d ever made with Teresa.

Could Angel’s link to this family be that simple? Was she Angela, also known as Angel? The idea seemed right, but so had the belief that she was going to enter the world as Teresa’s child. Angel had prepared for such a long time to be born to this family, and she had to deal with a lot of heartbreak when it didn’t happened. The day JJ was born should’ve been a beautiful day, but for Angel despair and loneliness had filled her heart as she remained clueless about her suspended state.

Teresa’s face relaxed, and her entire body seemed to loosen up. She pulled down the book with the word “family” written on its spine.

“May I?” Teresa lifted the notebook toward Father Benjamin.

“Absolutely.”

Angel stood right next to Teresa. Her insides felt like a slot machine hitting a jackpot. She wanted to find Belle and Kail to tell them her newest theory, but that conversation would have to wait. She’d need to ride this out and learn as many details about Angela as possible.