Seraphim (20 page)

No, not a cloak, Duncan now realized, but large, black wings.

There was a perceptible
tink
, as if a pebble had been tossed against their glass reality.

Then, as the wings fully unfolded, Duncan could make out the suggestion of a body, a head. Then a long, thrashing tail.

Within seconds, advanced twilight had settled upon Los Angeles. The sky was now the pitted, undulating rind of a moldy orange. An almost palpable hush swept through like an enchanted wind, and the temperature dropped a good thirty degrees.

The creature circled as it descended from the unearthly awning, finally alighting next to a steel Dumpster some twenty feet away. It folded its wings and squatted, regarding them with a vile grimace. Duncan thought it looked like something straight off the lofty precipices of Quasimodo’s immortal belfry. But more slim and sharp, like a hood ornament. One leading the charge on Satan’s Seville.

Duncan turned to warn Rachel and Juanita—but they were no longer there. And for a strange instant he wondered if they had ever been there at all. He called out to them, but his voice sounded vacuous, seeming to travel no farther from his face than the length of a cigar.

Except for the exotic sky, and the insane addition of the creature before them, the world had not noticeably changed. However, Duncan felt that they’d been relocated, that he and Amy and this section of LA had somehow been scooped up and transported to another world and were now the main attraction for some curious race of aliens. An episode of the old
Outer Limits
came to mind.

“Not again.” He closed his eyes. “Somebody please pinch me.”

“You’re not dreaming, Dad,” Amy said. “But you’re not too far from there.”

Duncan was struck by the sudden acumen bridling his daughter’s voice. She still sounded like a ten-year-old girl—but now there was an additional identity behind that pubescence, as if some guru had hopped aboard and grabbed the reins of her innocence.

He opened his eyes. The creature was still there, now rubbing itself lithely against a corner of the Dumpster, grinning like a wolf. He thought there was something profane about the way it moved; suggestive of something…lecherous.

And its teeth, as black and deep as his shame.

“Okay,” he said, heart thrumming in his chest. “Any idea what kind of animal that is?”

“Don’t worry. It wants Kathy, not us.”

“Katherine
Bently?
”

Cat-quick, the creature leapt, voicing an eerie cry, and took flight. It flew down the alleyway, rising to maybe a hundred feet, turned, then dove at them. Just as it was aiming its sharp talons at Amy’s shoulders, something unseen swatted it to the ground as if it were an insect.

The creature struck the asphalt hard, tumbling along like a napkin in a gale. It finally rolled to a stop and lay there for a moment, lifeless. Then it tottered to its feet and hastily made its way back to the Dumpster, apparently wanting something large and heavy to put between itself and the next invisible punch. Bloody scuffs of road rash were visible, as was a long tear in its left wing.

Lifting a leg, the creature regarded them with contempt as it peed, more blood than urine, onto the receptacle. It stayed there, at the edge of the trash bin, licking its wounds.

“Coward,” Amy accused.

Duncan knelt, allowing Amy to slide from his shoulders.

Now face-to-face with her, he said, “Any idea what’s protecting us?”

“A
friend
.”

Duncan was reminded of the way Doctor Strickland had similarly accentuated the word
friend
when she’d earlier explained to Amy the origin of her silver necklace.

He remained on his knees. “Well. That’s, um, some kind of friend.”

She sniggered. “Now you know why nobody picks on me at recess.”

“You’ve got your old man’s sense of humor,” he said reprovingly. Then, glancing back at the creature, he said, “So, where’s Katherine Bently?”

“She’s right here,” she said, poking at her chest. Something flittered across her eyes then, and the same voice as his daughter’s—the same yet cusped with a new, genuine delight—spoke from her lips: “Hi, Donut!”

More amused than shocked, Duncan just stared at her, as if that bombshell had only ejected party confetti instead of the intended shrapnel.

“You just can’t see the forest for the trees. But don’t worry, the answers will come soon enough.”

“But…I want the answers
now
.”

Sighing, she said, “Dad, you don’t even know the questions yet.”

“Alright. Alright,” he said, mustering his wits. “Just a clue then.
Please?
”

For once, her face was fretful. “Something’s happened. Something that maybe even God didn’t anticipate.”

“What, God made a boo-boo?”

“It’s really hard to know. But in a nutshell, there’s an additional reality now, and we have to erase it.” She shrugged. “If we can’t, then we’re screwed.”

Duncan let the expletive slide. “Define
we
.”

“Well, it’s going to kind of depend on me, but it’s going to depend on you, too.”

“On me?”

“And Mom, Juanita, and Kathy. There will be some other people, too. You’re going to make a journey.”

“
Our
Juanita?”

Amy smiled. “She’s okay, you’ll see.”

“A journey, huh. To where?”

She whispered in his ear: “A place where angels are born, among others.”

“Sounds messy.”

“Only when you have to deliver one.”

Wincing, he said, “Is that on the agenda?”

“Yep.”

Although Amy didn’t seem at all apprehensive about the creature’s presence, Duncan had been maintaining a vigilant watch. Still by the Dumpster, the creature continued its tongue bath. For now, it appeared content to remain there.

Nodding toward the creature, he said, “So, what’s Fido’s beef with Katherine?”

She looked at the creature, a taunting grin broadening across her face. “You always want most what you can never have.” Then, turning back to Duncan: “He’s just pissed off is all.”

Soft but firm, he grabbed her shoulders. “Tell me what’s going on, young lady, or I’ll rinse your mouth out with soap.”

She laughed at the threat. “What once was thought extinct is about to make a grand comeback.”

“Oh,” he said, rolling his eyes. “
Now
I understand.”

“Just know there’s a seraph loose.”

“A
seraph
? As in an angel kind of seraph?”

“Uh-huh. The seraphs were the wardens of eternity. But they’ve been wiped out…all except one.”

Feigning less shock than he was legitimately suffering, he said, “The Wardens of Eternity? Wiped out? Wait! Let me guess: The Devil?”

Almost ashamedly, she said, “Yes. And no.”

“You’re starting to sound like your mother,” he warned her.

She just glared at him.

He held up his hands, surrendering. “Okay, okay. So, where’s this sole-surviving angel?”

“Seraph,” she affirmed, as if it preferred that luminary title. “And that’s going to be part of your journey, to find out.”

“What, the Vatican wasn’t available? C’mon, kiddo, I can’t even find my car keys half the time!”

“Just ask yourself—where would a seraph hide?”

He glared at her.

She smiled warmly. “Dad, I know you want to understand, but you can’t. Not yet. I know you’re very scared, but all you have to do is go with the flow. And trust your
instincts
.” She took his hand, squeezed it. “
Just go with the flow
.”

With urgency, he said, “Have I gone totally insane?”

“Just a little.” She winked.

“I mean…you sound…odd, sweetheart. Besides Katherine, who else is in there with you?”

“Kathy’s not
in
me, Dad. Just think of me as all grown up.”

“Grown up? Last I checked Ken and Barbie were still groping each other on the veranda.”

“They were not!” she said, mortified.

Staring deeply into her eyes then, he said, “My little girl’s still in there, isn’t she?”

A new voice now; older, feminine. And strangely familiar: “Your daughter’s still very much here,” the voice assured. “But she also has another family, and they desperately need her right now.”

Suddenly, Duncan felt a crippling emptiness in his chest, as if he and Amy were exchanging last goodbyes.

He stood, brushing pebbles from his knees. “Alright. Where does this journey begin?”

Amy’s voice again: “Where do you think it should begin?”

“Okay, Rock Bay,” he said. “Then what?”

“Follow the Yellow Brick Road.”

He shook his finger at her. “Don’t think I won’t bend you over my knee!”

An endearing smile. “Don’t ever lose your sense of humor, Dad. God might not forgive you if you did.” Then, as if fondly recalling something, she said, “You know, God is really very funny, loves to laugh. It’s the only sound He makes that’s even close to human.”

“But He’s not laughing now, is that it?”

She turned from him, her face solemn. In a mixture of voices, she said, “We don’t know
what
He’s doing.”

The assertion was now inescapable. He listened for the groans of any eavesdropping nihilists, then groaned himself. “So, this is all biblically related.

“It is what it is.”

“Now you’re starting to sound like Moses.”

Her eyes turned discerning. “You’re not so unlike Moses. History will remember you both as emancipators.”

“What if I mess up?”

She shrugged. “Then this sitcom will never see the light of syndication.”

“Clown,” he said. “Do I get a staff? Something that’ll turn the rivers to blood? Summon plagues?”

“I can get you another ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card,” she offered.

Another...?
Unbelieving, Duncan whispered, “You know about why I got shot?”

“I had some friends who were there.”

“But…that’s not possible.”

“Dad, you won’t believe what’s possible.”

Ashamed, he turned his eyes away. “I’m not the hero everyone thinks I am.”

“If you go in with bad intentions, that doesn’t mean you can’t come out a hero.”

“Translate.”

“That fateful night isn’t through with you.”

“You got that right,” he said. “It’ll never be through with me.”

“I think what you mean is that you’ll never be through with
it
.”

He nodded. “Smart girl.”

“Just remember what George Bernard Shaw said. ‘If you cannot get rid of the family skeleton you might as well make it dance.’”

“What if me and Mr. Bones don’t wish go to the ball?”

“Then you won’t,” she said, her puppy eyes blooming. “But you’ll dance for me, won’t you, Daddy?”

He put his face in his hands. “Oh boy, I have a feeling we’re all in big trouble if mankind is counting on me and the maid.”

“Don’t forget about Mom and the others,” she reminded. “And me.”

Duncan shook his head. “I don’t think your mother will be going. She’s kinda mad at me, kiddo.”

“She’ll come around. You’ll see.”

“I won’t hold my breath. Besides, I’m no Deliverer.”

“Your tears will show you who you are.”

“My
tears—
” He wanted to reach out and strangle her. “Could you possibly be any more obscure?”

“Just get everyone to Rock Bay, Dad.”

“But…
Juanita?
”

“Juanita doesn’t need you telling her who she is,” Amy scolded. “She has her own idea.”

“So how come I don’t get the benefit of knowing who
I
am?”

“Very soon, you will once again hold on the tip of your tongue all that is, all that was, and all that ever will be. And you will
Know
.”

“Know
what?
”

“Who you are, silly.”

Duncan felt as if he were descending in a faulty bathysphere, the pressure building to crushing proportions. His brain wasn’t buying any of it, but his soul trembled in the assuredness that it was all real and true.

His brain still firmly in control, he said, “You
do
know that I don’t believe in God, right?”

“I know. But it won’t hurt God’s feelings.” Then a frown emerged, one much too serious for a child. “Unfortunately, He’s not quite as wrathful as legend has Him.”

The creature was growling now, spreading its wings, appearing like it might attempt another blitz.

“Time to go,” she said.

“Is this the part where I wake up?”

“No” she said, almost plaintively. “But very soon, you will.”

In a blink, it was over. The temperature steadily rose, and the commotion of the city, it seemed, had rebounded to an even more oppressive din than before.

He was back, standing once again with Amy on his shoulders. Rachel and Juanita were still gazing skyward, apparently not having missed them.

Then, upon the mirrored buildings, the silhouettes of two immense hands plunged downward, as if meaning to pluck both structures from their foundations.

Amy hugged Duncan’s neck and whispered in his ear. “Goodbye, Dad. Be very careful. Take good care of Kathy. And no matter how it all finally turns out, I’ll always and forever know you were a hero.” She kissed the top of his head. “Oh, and be nice to the dead man.”

Duncan squeezed Amy’s hands. “What dead man?”

“Señor Duncan!” Juanita gasped.

“Oh, my God,” Rachel cried. “Look!”

He followed Rachel’s finger to the reflective window before them. Both Juanita and Rachel were looking at Amy, then the window, then Amy again.

Duncan could feel her weight on his shoulders, could feel her hands in his hands, but something was missing from the burnished portrait before them.

They stood there, their own astonished reflections staring back.

All but Amy’s.

10.

“Put me down, Donut,” she laughed, poking the back of his head.

He watched her image in the window. For a long second, it seemed, her reflection had not been there.

“Did you just call Señor Duncan ‘Donut’?” Juanita said.

“Dunkin’ Donut,” she affirmed.