Angel's Decree

Andrew drove frantically, his hand bleeding out. It startled him, the way the blood slipped from beneath his skin, sparkles of glass glistening in the late afternoon light. He caught his breath and slowed to a crawl, pulling his truck over to the side of the street. He rested his forehead against the steering wheel and tried to clear his head.

The thought of Monica wrapped up inside another man’s embrace felt like a mallet hitting him in the chest. She wouldn’t have lied to him. She would never even want a man like Eric. Andrew was sure of it, but he still couldn’t get it out of his mind. Every time he started to get closer to her, something got in the way. He was beginning to think that knowing her at all had been a mistake.

Lifting his head, he began, with shaking fingers, to pick glass out of his hand. It hurt like hell, but he carried on, knowing it was urgent. In just one hour, he had to report for work, and he wouldn’t miss it for anything. It was one of his few joys in life.

. . .

Inside the immense suite, Monica sat staring into the fireplace. She didn’t want to admit to herself how lonely it was without Tess. It made her feel needy, but Tess had been such a formidable presence in her life, a protector, a confidant, and a friend. Now, she was alone again, and it hurt.

When the phone rang, it startled her to no end. She was hoping it was Tess.

“Hello, Tess?”

“Monica?” Caryn’s voice sounded far away.

“Oh, Caryn!” Monica was glad to hear from her old roommate. “Caryn, hello. How are you?”

“Oh, I’m great.” There was a pause. “How about you?”

“I’m doin’ fine. It’s good to hear from you.”

“Yeah, well… I called because…”

“Is everything alright?”

“Oh, sure! Of course. Yeah. Everything’s fine.” Caryn’s gladness sounded contrived. “I just wondered if you wanted to go out, maybe do something.”

Monica pondered. “I… I don’t know. I mean… I promised a friend that I’d make dinner…”

“You’d be back way before dinner.” Caryn promised. “Anyway, I haven’t seen you in so long...”

Monica thought about how nice it would be to chat with her again, face-to-face over a cup of coffee, perhaps. Like old times. “Alright, then. I’ll come and pick you up. My friend let me borrow her car while she’s gone.”

“Sweet.” Caryn said. “You remember where my parents live?”

Monica nodded. “Yes, I do. I’ll be there in a wee bit.”

“Thanks, Monica. I’ll see you then.”

When Monica hung up the phone and grabbed her jacket, she felt a vague sense of foreboding, but she let it pass. Anymore, lately, she was always feeling apprehensive because there were surprises around every corner. Then again, the thought of seeing Caryn warmed her heart. In the old days, she’d reminded her a little Tess, with her warm brown hands and her gentle singing voice. Lately, though Caryn hadn’t seemed at all like Tess. She seemed more like Jaime. Monica shrugged off the thought and started up the car.

. . .

Across town, Andrew walked into his job with a bandaged hand and his supervisor took one look at him and frowned.

“What happened to you?”

Andrew shrugged, an embarrassed smile on his face. “Glass. It’s okay.”

“It don’t look okay. C’mere.” The older man unwrapped it and took a closer look. “I don’t think I can dispatch you out in this condition. Why didn’t you call me?”

Andrew made a face. “I didn’t think it was that serious. Anyway, I’m okay for dispatch. I need to work.”

“Oh yeah?” the man cleaned Andrew’s hand with alcohol, which stung something awful, and then wrapped it with fresh gauze. “Why’s that?”

“Just because.” Andrew didn’t know why it was so important aside from the fact that if he kept himself busy, maybe he could forget or ignore his own problems. Maybe if he saw enough faces tonight, heard enough voices, he could block out Monica’s thereby effectively numbing his pain. At least for the time being.

“Does it hurt?” his supervisor looked into Andrew’s hazel orbs, and Andrew looked away.

“Yes, sir.” He nodded, his heart heavy. He was referring to the invisible damage, the internal damage. He was thinking of Eric’s words. He was thinking of not being able to hold Monica the way he wanted to, not being able to get lost in her for fear of something breaking.

“Well, if it’s so important, you can ride along, but I’ll send another tech – just in case. You’re just tagging along, Andrew. Don’t forget – and put a plastic glove over that thing. You don’t want to get exposed to Hep or anything.”

Andrew nodded and went to the supply closet for a durable glove. It fit snugly over his hand and felt smooth to the touch. It was nothing like human skin. Andrew turned and went to where his supervisor had been sitting an instant ago and found him kneeled near his chair, his eyes shut, him murmuring quietly to himself. Andrew could only watch in awe as he prayed.

It was a long prayer, and Andrew wished he could hear all the words, wished he could memorize them. He knew how to pray, but he wondered if he said the right words, if they were acceptable enough to God.

“What’s wrong with you, Andy?” a co-worker named Tony passed by him. “Haven’t you ever seen a man pray before?”

Andrew nodded, slowly and turned away. He suddenly felt like he was intruding upon something sacred.

“Alright, Andy, you ride shotgun today.”

Andrew nodded and headed out to the truck.

. . .

As Monica pulled up to the curb at Caryn’s home, she watched as Caryn approached, hand-in-hand with someone else. His face was obscured by a baseball cap pulled over his face, and she didn’t realize who it was until it was too late.

“He can’t come in this car.” Monica said, panic flooding her cheeks as she caught sight of Eric’s sly grin. “I’m sorry, Caryn.”

“Please, Monica, he doesn’t have anyplace else to go. He just needs a ride.”

Monica squeezed the steering wheel. She wanted to be helpful, but she was afraid of Eric. Something about him sent a chill through her entire being.

“C’mon, Irish. I won’t be any trouble. I just need to get out of here.” His voice sounded reasonable enough, but still, Monica was wary.

“Where does he need to go?” Monica’s breathing was shallow as she tried to calm herself. She was tense, suddenly, by having him so close.

“To the racetrack.” Caryn avoided Monica’s inquisitive gaze. “That’s not far from here. He lives next to it.”

Monica didn’t answer straight away. She didn’t want to have any parts of this, but if she could manage to drop him off, then maybe she wouldn’t ever have to see him again. He almost looked normal with the cap on, vulnerable.

“Alright.” She murmured, and Caryn got inside next to Monica with Eric in the back. He didn’t say anything, but Monica could feel him back there behind her, his stare like a laser beam on her neck.

“Thanks, Irish.” He said and reached up to rest a cold clammy hand on her bare shoulder, his touch like leather.

“What about us, Caryn?” Monica asked, as she moved her seat forward a bit, away from Eric’s touch. “I thought you wanted to do something together.”

Caryn nodded. “Of course, I want to. I thought you could hang with us.”

Monica nodded, but didn’t say what she was thinking. She didn’t mention that she hated being around Eric and she hated his smell and his voice and everything else about him. She didn’t mention that something about him made her skin crawl.

“Why couldn’t we hang out at your parent’s home, Caryn? It looks like a nice big house. We could have watched a movie or popped some popcorn…”

“Eric wouldn’t even come inside. That place freaks him out. My parents are religious freaks and they have all these crucifixes and bibles and pictures of Jesus all over the place…”

“It’s like a fuckin’ shrine.” Eric’s voice wafted from the backseat. “I hate all that shit.”

Monica shivered. “Oh, that’s not so bad.” Her voice sounded nervous to her own ears. “I can think of worse things.”

Caryn snorted. “They had the place blessed by a minister when they moved in.” she was rambling through her small purse. “Something about keeping evil spirits away…”

Monica’s foot involuntarily tapped the brake. She cleared her throat, though, and kept driving. When she looked into the rearview mirror, she caught Eric’s sly grin before he blew her a kiss. She averted her eyes then, and pressed onward.

When they got to the racetracks, it was crowded and those who weren’t actually betting were milling about or looking for an in. Monica was uncomfortable here, and wanted Eric to get out of the car. When she glanced at Caryn, she caught sight of her dipping her finger into a small pouch and then shoving that same finger up her nose.

“Caryn, what are you doin’?” Monica gaped at her. “Drugs?”

Caryn shook her head and wiped her nostril. “No! Of course not. It’s… medicine.”

Monica reached for her hands. “Listen, Caryn, I know you think I was born yesterday, and… sometimes, I feel like I was – but this is wrong.”

Eric was smirking in the backseat, watching them as if watching a crucial moment in a soap opera.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Monica.” Caryn swayed a bit, her dreadlocks falling over her brow.

Monica lifted her chin so she could focus. “Please, Caryn. Don’t go off with him. Let me take you to a doctor. I can help you, if you let me.”

“She doesn’t need your help.” Eric said. “She already chose her path. What about you, Irish? Which way do you want to go?”

In an instant, Caryn opened the car door and stood up outside. Monica realized she was thinner than usual and dressed in virtual rags, a wispy peace of material for a skirt and a sheer blouse that showed a leopard skin bra beneath. She looked like trash, and Monica felt she might be too far gone to help now.

“I gotta go to the bathroom.” She said in a slurred voice before wobbling off through the crowd.

Eric climbed into the front seat and Monica was too distraught to protest. “Aren’t you going to go after her, Irish? You’re her friend, after all.”

Monica swallowed. “What difference would it make? She won’t listen to me now.” She glanced at him. “You made sure of that.”

“She’s only doing what she feels she has to do.” Eric grinned. “At least if she’s high, she doesn’t have to think about her past. She can block out the nightmares, forget about a childhood gone too soon. Her first lover was a gambler, ya know. She was only twelve when he took her, showed her the rules of the game… made her a woman. She never forgot the glitz and the glamour of it – no matter how hard she tried.” Eric reached out and touched a lock of Monica’s hair. “Didn’t she ever tell you any of this? Aren’t you supposed to be her friend?”

Monica faltered. “I… I’m…”

“Right.” Eric’s face was smug. “Anyway, she’s doing better now. She can effectively block out those things she doesn’t want to remember. It’s so easy. Who wouldn’t want to erase their problems, Irish? Have a little fun…”

“It’s not supposed to be easy.” Monica whispered. “What’s the point of havin’ fun, if you didn’t have to work for it?”

“That’s your problem, Monica.” He said, his voice turned serious. “You don’t even get it.”

She waited, wondering what she should do, then she turned to look into Eric’s eyes, his swirling amber orbs. “Who are you?”

He chuckled, touched her lips with his long index finger. “I’m surprised you don’t know by now…”

-------

Inside the crowded vestibule, Caryn staggered past people placing their bets. She held onto the wall for support, but her hands were slipping. She felt her heart fluttering in her chest, a handful of butterflies struggling to get outside of her. She tugged at her blouse, pulling it open, her chest heaving. When she went down, there was a scream, and people crowded around her. A security guard broke through the crowd to get to her and checked her thready pulse.

“Move! Give her some air.”

“Someone call 911!”

“I’m on it!”

-------

Miles away, an ambulance headed towards the racetrack. Andrew sat up front, his arm hanging out of the window. His hazel gaze was focused forward as they barreled through traffic, sirens screaming into the night. He had no idea what was in store for him, and he had no idea that inside the cabin of the truck, angels sat waiting, invisible to the third tech.

“Lord, please give him strength. Give him the courage to face his demons and get through this without injuring himself too much in the process.” Tess prayed as Gloria sat nearby, her hand clutching the notebook Tess had given her. “Please, let him know the truth in his heart and have the ability to speak it as only he can. Please, Father, let him have the presence of mind to realize this will all be over soon, if only he can get through it.”

Gloria’s worried little face attempted to smile. “I think he’s ready now, Tess.”

“Lord, I hope so.” She said, her dark hands clasped together.

The ambulance arrived at the racetrack and the men stormed inside the ticket hall with gurneys and equipment. “Where is she?” Andrew asked the management as they pointed towards a small crowd of people. His coworkers took the helm as Andrew followed and parted the crowd to see the woman there, unconscious and sprawled on the floor. He stopped in his tracks. He knew this woman. She was Monica’s roommate, Caryn.

As they went through their procedures, beginning CPR, Andrew stared down at her. How did this happen? She didn’t look like this before, and now she presented with a clear case of drug overdose…

As they lifted her onto the gurney and carried her through the crowd, Andrew caught sight of someone running towards the ambulance. Another familiar face. Two, actually.

“Andrew?” Monica reached for him, but he took a step away from her. His eyes were focused on the man behind her.

“Oh! Hey, Andrew.” Eric said, his grin sly as he stood next to Monica, his hand at the small of her back.

“So, it’s true…” Andrew’s voice faltered as he felt the bottom drop out.

“We gotta go!” Behind him his coworkers yelled to him. “Get in this truck, Andrew! Now!”

Monica was confused. “Andrew…”

His feet were heavy as lead as he trudged backward to the truck and climbed inside, his heart broken – but Monica climbed inside with him, at the last moment before the doors shut her out.

“Andrew, it’s Caryn.” Monica looked down at her, watching the tech work on her. “She… it was drugs, I think. I don’t know what kind. I should have stopped her, but…”

Andrew was numb. “She’s going to die, isn’t she?”

The tech looked at him, his face white.

Monica’s face was panic-stricken. “Why did you say that, Andrew?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know… I feel it nearby. Death, I mean. And he’s here… the man in white. Adam. Can you see him too?”

Monica looked around but didn’t see anything. Adam was perched in a corner of the cabin, his eyes deeply sad, his hands toying with a golden pocket watch. He hoped with everything inside himself that Andrew could overcome this, but time was running out… for everyone.

The tech was continuing CPR on Caryn, and then Adam whispered in Monica’s ear to hold on, and she did, unsure why. The ambulance sped through an intersection, and was hit, full force, by an oncoming truck. The driver was knocked out of the front window, and landed on the pavement outside. The tech inside the cabin working on Caryn hit his head on the upper bulkhead and collapsed into an unconscious heap, leaving a shaken Monica and Andrew alone with Caryn. The truck was totaled, the equipment broken.

“Oh God, Andrew…” Monica was stunned. What had happened?

Andrew reached out to touch a bruise that was already forming on Monica’s temple. She’d hit her head and didn’t even realize it – but otherwise, they were both stable.

Ignoring his own pain, Andrew leaned over Caryn and touched her face, and then he checked her pulse. “Caryn, please. Stay with me. Listen to me. You’re… you’re going to be fine.” He tasted blood in his mouth, but swallowed it down. “She’s stable, Monica.” He said without looking at her. “Stay with her. I have to… I have to do something…”

Monica was clutching the edge of the gurney in a white-knuckled grip. She didn’t know what could possibly happen next. It was so blurry and so uncertain. The truck was smoking, the smell filling the cabin, and she was confused. Why had this happened to them?

Andrew climbed down out of the truck and felt his knees give when he did. At least one of them was broken, but he limped onward. It was like he was possessed. He clutched his arm where it had possibly come out of its ball joint. He should have lain down and waited for another paramedic to come, but he couldn’t. He had a purpose, now, that he had to fulfill.

When he got close, he saw his driver, Tony, a man in his thirties, a good man with a family at home. Two little boys and a baby girl. He was bleeding from the side of his head; his face was like ground beef. It had been pummeled by tempered glass as he’d flown out the windshield, but Andrew knew he’d be okay because he was a man of faith. For some reason, that’s all that mattered.

“Tony.” Andrew caressed his head, brushed away some of the blood. His blue eyes stared out at nothing as he went into shock, chest heaving, and body leaking blood by the gallon. “You’re going home.” He said, and the words felt natural. They flowed from some place deep within. They were etched in his memory. “Don’t be afraid. You’re going to be with God in heaven. It’s a beautiful place. There’s no death there, no pain, no strife. Only joy and splendor.”

Tony’s eyes were glazing over with tears as he spoke in a hoarse whisper. “My… family…”

And now Andrew smiled. “Oh, they’ll be just fine. God will watch over them. He’ll take care of them. All you have to do is ask. It’s that easy.” He cradled Tony’s head. “You can ask him now.”

Tony shut his eyes and convulsed, but he murmured in a wet throaty voice. “God… please… take care of… of my…. f-family…”

Andrew nodded, his face lit up, his heart filled with gladness. “Amen.”

Tony lay in Andrew’s arms, and finally Andrew heard a siren in the distance, but it was too late. The man grew still, his heartbeat silent forever. Andrew looked up and saw, amid all the chaos, Adam standing over him.

“You passed.” His face was beaming. “I knew you would.”

And when Andrew looked down at himself, he saw that he was glowing, filled with God’s grace from the inside. He stood and he was aware of himself, the way he used to be, the angelic Andrew. His body was fine, no bruises, and no pain. He brushed himself off and felt a tingling sensation traverse through him. He looked and saw the soul of Tony standing nearby, watching as the medical techs worked on his corpse, an empty shell.

“It’s time to go home.” Adam said to Tony and gestured for Andrew to follow, but he lingered, looking in the direction of the ambulance where Monica waited for him. “She’ll be fine, Andrew. You can’t help her now. She has to go the rest alone.”

There was a trace of pain on Andrew’s face, his delicate eyebrows furrowed as he recalled their time together, but he followed Adam obediently. He would see her again soon, one way or another…