The Fallen and the Elect
Page 29
Chapter 13
The next day, returning from his run, Michael felt his internal clock had been incorrectly set; it was early in the morning and he enjoyed running in the late afternoon or early evening. Michael grabbed the paper from the front porch and poured himself a glass of orange juice mixed with apple juice. He sat down at the simple wooden table in the kitchen and started scanning the newspaper but was flabbergasted at the amount of trivial content. Michael was aware that most of his acquaintances were in the habit of reading their news on the world, the country, their community online but that wasn’t his preference. He enjoyed the tactile sensation of reading physical media. After recent events, it might be a good idea to glance through the paper to see if there was anything that might lead to further research. He had to admit that he was still interested in the subject of angels but hadn’t been able to figure out how to incorporate the theme into his class curriculum.
Newspapers now held less news and more entertainment drivel, community events, a smattering of local sports, and coupons and specials. The biggest focus for many who did read the newspaper was the obituaries. When first reported, angel sightings made headlines. News stories covering each event generally conveyed the same theme - why did they show up, what did they say, what did they look like. Two of the local newspapers interviewed Michael as a religious expert for a couple of news stories. Yet with all the events over the years, no one could capture a single picture or video. Over time, the stories moved to page two, then further in, ultimately ending up in the same section as the obituaries for gawkers, followers, and others who would view past events and attempt to forecast future visits. Funerals had become the new entertainment social activity. Families got into arguments about who would attend. Radio and television talk shows got into the hysteria, giving away attendance vouchers in contests held over the air. Companies held raffles. The un-ceremonial interment of bodies by counties for John and Jane Does became popular well-attended events with anticipation that an angel might show up.
Before the popularity of these visitations, people were often hesitant to attend funerals, forced to think of their own mortality. People now felt the possibility that an afterlife of eternal bliss for all mankind might exist. Michael remembered reading one article in which a witness stated the angel foretold of the beauty before us as we pass from this life to the next.
Just then, a short, sandy-haired young women, hair halfway down her back, wearing a campus T-shirt and red-and-blue-checked pajama bottoms entered the kitchen. She went straight to the refrigerator and pulled out a container of orange juice.
“I'd thought you'd left already,” Michael questioned, still reading the paper.
“Why, you wanna get rid of me?” she responded.
“No, it’s just that I need to finish getting ready for the trip to Mexico. Father Hernandez and Sister Justine will be here soon to go to the airport.”
“And you don't want to be seen with me? Just like at the deli when you acted like you didn't know who I was. You know, that really pissed me off.”
Michael put the paper down on the tabletop and eyed Alicia. Now she brings this up. “Look, I'm sorry. You have to remember that it’s considered unprofessional for me to be seeing you anyway. And those two being religious and all, well you know? Plus it was as much your idea as mine to keep this somewhat discreet, especially with your boyfriend away in England. Remember it was you who said we should act like you were just one of my students.”
“Well, did you mean what you said about my hair?”
Michael rummaged through his thoughts trying to recollect what she could be talking about in regards to her hair. He didn’t recall making any specific comments over the last several days. “Now what the hell are you talking about?”
“Same time back at the deli when I had the pens and pencils in my hair?”
And she brings this up too? Michael thought. “You mean that it looked like a skewered bun was on the top of your head?” He recalled.
“Yeah.”
“Sure as shit did.”
“You can really be an asshole sometimes, you know that?” Alicia remarked.
“Your point is?” Michael countered.
Alicia remained quiet and returned to pouring a glass of orange juice.
“So, how long are you gonna be gone?” Alicia asked, trying to mask a hint of loneliness.
“A week or two, don't know. I guess it depends on what we find out,” Michael answered.
Soft knocking at the door drew both away from their conversation. Michael glanced at the clock on the microwave. He was running about 30 minutes late. Damn, he thought. He tried to figure out how he fell behind in getting ready. Then he recalled Alicia had wanted to spend extra time cuddling and talking when they woke up. Michael thought, “What the hell?” since he wouldn't see her for a while. He got up to answer the door.
Father Hernandez and Sister Justine entered the kitchen behind Michael to see Alicia leaning against the countertop sipping a glass of orange juice. Both guests did not expect to see a young college aged female in the room. She possessed a familiar face but one the two visitors couldn’t place in context. Michael was astounded that Alicia hadn't gone back into the bedroom.
“Father, Sister, this is Alicia. She's going to be housesitting for me. Alicia, this is Father Hernandez and Sister Justine. They're the ones I've told you that I'm working with, to try to figure out what happened at the funeral home where everyone died.”
Father Hernandez was the first to reach out to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Sister Justine mirrored the priest in her response.
Making sure there would be no awkward moments or comments, Michael spoke up. “I'm packed, I just gotta take a shower and get dressed. Then I'll be ready to go.”
“You know what Mr. Saunders?” Father Hernandez said, trying to obscure his disapproval. “We still need to get gas for the car. We’ll leave and come back in about 15 minutes. We’ll still have plenty of time to get to the airport.”
“Fine, I'll be ready when you get back.”
Both Father Hernandez and Sister Justine tried to get a definitive final glance at Alicia before being escorted out by Michael. It was then that Sister Justine recalled where she’d seen Alicia.
“Michael, the girl at the deli? Come on? You should be ashamed,” she remarked, whispering to make sure Michael's guest in the kitchen couldn't hear.
“What're you talking about? She's just house-sitting.”
“Dressed like that?”
“She slept on the futon.”
Sister Justine smirked, she didn’t believe him. She followed Father Hernandez out the door. When Michael returned to the kitchen, Alicia stared at him with a quizzical expression he didn’t recognize.
“If I didn't know better, I could swear you like her,” Alicia noted. “You do, don't you?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Michael said adamantly, trying to cover up emotions he assumed he successfully suppressed.
“I could see it. I wasn't sure at the deli, but just now, definitely.”
Michael dismissed her comment. “She’s a nun for god’s sake. You know what, I'm gonna take a shower. I'll see you when I get out. And by the way, you don't have to worry about leaving; I told them you were house-sitting.”
“I know, I was there when you said it,” she quipped.
Securing the locks on his luggage, Michael imagined he would never see Justine again. Now he was getting ready to go with her on a research trip to Mexico. Yes, Alicia was in his life, but he couldn’t say that he loved her. He did not have the feelings for her that he felt for Justine years ago. Michael was never sure he could get close to anyone again. Maybe it was his feeling betrayed by the Church, the disappearance of his family and his close friends, or Justine ending their relationship. For her, it was a committed relationship with God; a relationship that did not include him.
Michael questioned why he initially started his quest to become a priest more than ten years ago. It was a question he couldn’t answer. If he’d completed his studies and became ordained, realistically there would be no way he or Justine could ever be together. Maybe it was just the thought of being close to her that fueled his earlier motivation to attend seminary. Pushing his emotions aside, his curiosity was fueled by wanting to see if he could determine if what happened at the church in Mexico ten years ago and the recent tragedies were connected. He was back in the game doing something he immensely enjoyed, the research and investigation of the veracity of angels and related religious matters.
III. The Eulogy of Angels: Aguascalientes