by Alexie Aaron
“You’ll need an advocate,” Michael said.
“I thought I could do this myself. Bringing on an advocate would alert the faction within of the situation. I don’t think that’s wise.”
“I see you’ve thought this out since I last read your mind,” Michael said.
“I’ve seen what happens when I let my anger direct me. I do rash things, and the consequences are high. When I was put in that situation of having to live my life over, I realized that nothing I could do would bring about the same result. I looked at what I had accomplished in my life and who I may have influenced. The thought of all the good I did disappearing was so overwhelming my heart couldn’t take it. It stopped.”
“Your heart is faulty,” Raphael explained. “The council didn’t look far enough into your genetic line. Plus, you can’t have all these talents without a heart strong enough and a brain supple enough to use them. This is why you get blood clots in your brain and your heart gives out. Michael and the Gray Ladies have done a remarkable job keeping you running, but the facts are, you were bred to act at a certain time - in this case, attracting Abigor at your sexual peak and killing him. After, you would probably be a casualty of Lucifer’s revenge, and the council would be free of you. They didn’t think about you living on, giving birth, or the people you would save along the way. They think linearly. They see life as a train going from point A to point B. They don’t see the towns the train goes through along the way, nor the people who get on and off the train. They may play a long game, but they don’t play it well.”
“Raphael, I’ve thought about what we would lose if Mia didn’t exist past twelve. The generation that leads the human race out of the storm and into the light would lose the leaders it needs. Whether these were the thoughts of the originator of the volo candle I don’t know. I suspect it’s just greed or revenge. But it happened. Mia, with Altair and Stephen Murphy’s help, managed to cancel the timeline and return with their memories intact, so we now know this is going on. This is a gift,” Michael stressed.
“It is disappointing to find out that we’ve been manipulated by a faction within the council, but knowledge is power. Speaking of knowledge, I’ll have one of our historians send you the information you need in a dream. For right now, I want you to enjoy this beautiful place. I’ve alerted Varden and Brian’s guardian angels to be extra vigilant.”
“Luke Stavros too,” Mia said, catching Michael’s eye.
“Is he the child you and I talked about?” Raphael asked Michael.
“Yes.”
“Was this what broke your heart?”
“That and Mark Leighton. If Ted hadn’t been with me at Wolf’s Lake when we met Mark, he wouldn’t be bringing you the future, he would be killing it. I couldn’t bear it. I think that’s why I fought so hard. I had to.”
~
Dieter sat on the steps of the public library with Mark. They had been inside looking for source materials for their Environmental Science papers that you couldn’t find on the internet. Ms. Templeton stressed that even though their generation has a great many materials available through the web, not everything could be found that way. She suggested looking at old almanacs, journals, news clippings from State Fairs, and other materials to add color to their otherwise dry as toast report. “I want to be stimulated. I want to find out things I don’t know. You get extra points if I don’t fall asleep reading your paper. And you,” she said, pointing to Dieter, “need the points.”
“Did you get everything you need?” Mark asked.
“Grandpa Martin suggested that I include a drawing of the evolution of a cob of corn. I need some markers.”
“Gee, I wish I thought about that with my green bean report.”
“Remind me again why we are doing reports on vegetables?” Dieter said.
“Remember when she was explaining why it was important to look at how farmers produce their crops and how it affects the environment?”
“Yes.”
“Ms Templeton got frustrated when no one was participating in the discussion. She said that since we were acting like vegetables, we should do a report on them.”
The boys got up and walked towards the art shop.
Mark put his hand on Dieter’s arm and asked, “Quick, look at the woman with the oversized handbag we are passing and tell me what you see after we pass her.”
“Sure,” Dieter said, used to the odd games Mark liked to play.
They passed the woman. Dieter said, “Good afternoon,” to her as they passed.
“Why did you do that?” Mark hissed.
“Good manners. Try it. It impresses the oldies.”
“What did you see?” Mark asked.
“She had a blue soul.”
“And a blue soul…”
“Is an indication of a benevolent soul.”
“What kind of creature’s have blue souls?” Mark asked.
“Very kind, compassionate humans and angels.”
“I knew it!” Mark said. “I briefly saw her wings before she cloaked them.”
“Why would she cloak them? Only you can see them when they are in their Earthly personas.”
“Maybe she knew I was here,” Mark said.
“Maybe. Well that was fun. Let’s look for demons next.”
“Shut up,” Mark said, frustrated.
Dieter opened the door of the shop.
“Welcome, I’ll be with you in a minute,” the old woman at the register told them.
“Markers?” Dieter asked.
“Aisle six.”
“Thank you.”
“Acalan!” she shouted. “Make this devil open the drawer!”
“Coming…”
Mark snickered as he followed Dieter. “Do you think there is a devil in the drawer?”
“If so, he would have a red-orange soul,” Dieter said.
Acalan fixed the error, and the customers left the store. “Grandma, how about we look into bringing back the old register? You didn’t have so much problem with it.”
“Maybe I’m too old to work.”
“No, you’re my best employee.”
“I’m your only employee,” she said, pinching Acalan’s cheek. “You go and help those boys. I have to have a coffee.”
“Yes, Grandma,” Acalan said. He walked over to the teens and asked, “Can I help you?”
“Maybe,” Dieter said. “You’re an artist, aren’t you?”
“Guilty.”
“I’ve got this project, and I wanted to do a four-panel picture of the evolution of a cob of corn, but I’m beginning to think that it’s going to be…”
“Boring?” Acalan guessed.
“Yes. And my teacher wants exciting. How do I make a cob of corn exciting?”
“Roast it with pepper and parmesan cheese,” Acalan suggested.
“You’re kidding.”
“Yes. What media were you going to use?”
Dieter gave Acalan a blank look.
“Media is pencils, markers, paint… That’s it. Come on, I have an idea.”
The boys followed the artist upstairs. He walked over to a shelf and pulled out some still life studies to show the teens. He turned around, and the teens were standing open-mouthed looking at the large canvas.
“That’s powerful,” Mark said.
“Dude, that’s my mother,” Dieter said.
“Excuse me, that’s Mia Cooper… Mia Martin.”
“I’m Dieter Martin, her son.”
“I don’t see the resemblance.”
“He’s adopted,” Mark explained the obvious. “You really have captured her.”
“Something’s still not right. I have this sketch I did,” he said, pointing to the paper pinned to the wall.
“It’s Mia alright,” Mark said. “Can I ask why the wings?”
“I don’t know. I see them in my head, and they come out on the paper. Dieter, I used to go to school with your mother,” he explained as if that somehow gave him permission to pa
int her.
“Maybe her wings have changed…” Acalan asked himself.
“It wouldn’t be impossible,” Mark said. He nudged Dieter. “Snap out of it. The painting is extraordinary, as is the subject.”
“But she’s my mom. It makes me uncomfortable.”
“She’s not naked,” Acalan offered.
“Have you seen my mother naked?” Dieter interrogated.
“No. Wait, I saw her in a bikini at the beach, but she was ten and I was ten! Stop looking at me as if I’m a pervert.”
Dieter turned and studied the artist. His soul had interesting markings in it, a lot like his best friend’s. He looked at Mark, and then he looked at the artist, and it all started to make sense. “I’m sorry, the painting is very good, sir. You had an idea for my project?” he reminded him.
“Yes, come over here.” Acalan picked up a painting of an apple. It was shiny and new on one side and rotten on the other. “I call this Time. I was thinking about your corn. How about you peel the husk off, and every peel shows a different type of kernel, like this,” he said, picking up a pencil and quickly sketching it out.
“Cool. Can I take this as an example? I won’t steal your work.”
This impressed Acalan. “You could work on it here, use my materials. I promise not to sigh too loudly.”
“I’d like to, but my parents are gone, and my little brothers are expected back soon. I promised to help watch them.”
“Brothers? I have met Brian. Have you another brother?”
“Varden,” Mark supplied. “He’s a little guy.”
“Mia has been blessed. She seems so happy now. She wasn’t when she was in school.”
“Are you happy?” Mark asked.
“I wasn’t. I thought I had lost my muse, but look!” he almost shouted. “It’s back.”
Mark waited until they had left the store with Dieter’s purchase before he said, “He can see angels, I mean wings. Your mother’s no angel. Wait! That came out all wrong.”
Dieter liked when his smart friend got all muddled. “He has the same type of soul you have. It means he can see angels even though he doesn’t know he can.”
~
Ted and Orion were ushered into Gerald’s office. He rose and greeted them with a handshake. He rolled his eyes after a failed attempt at reading Ted’s mind. He should have known better. Ted’s thoughts were written in code. Orion blocked his mind house as Gerald would have expected.
“So, gentlemen, let’s use our words, no? What can I do for you?”
“You used to be an apprentice with a gargoyle named Quazar,” Orion stated.
“Yes.
“We would like to locate him,” Ted said.
“Why?”
“To ask him some questions,” Orion answered. “Questions about volo candles.”
Ted watched Gerald’s face for a sign of surprise or recognition or interest. The elegant older Haitian’s eyes were still. He frowned. “Excuse me, but I’m getting a feeling of déjà vu. But…”
They could see that he was searching his mind. “Yes. Volo candles. Quazar. Mia? Wyatt Wayne. What the hell? Please,” he said, holding up his hand. “I thought it was a dream. Tell me what’s going on.”
“You first,” Ted demanded.
“Fine. I think we’re dealing with an alternate reality. Am I close?”
“Yes,” Ted said.
“Mia! Where’s Mia? I saw Wyatt Wayne with a child with Mia’s eyes in a shop I worked in. Time travel. It’s about an alternate timeline. Is she trapped in the past?” he asked anxiously.
“No, she’s back in this timeline,” Ted answered.
“Who did this?” he asked.
“We were hoping you could tell us.”
“Me? I’ll try. Why Quazar? I haven’t seen him since…” Gerald put his hand to his temple. “Mary Mother of God, I think…” Gerald got up and stuck his head out of his office. The older man in the expensive suit looked up. “Mr. Villeneuve, cancel my appointments for the day and lock up. We’ll need refreshments served in my inner office please.”
“Yes, Mr. Shem.”
Gerald walked back into the office. He walked over to the wall of books and opened a panel. “If you gentlemen will follow me, I think for what we are about to discuss we need more privacy, no?”
Gerald led them down a narrow passage. He stopped and drew out an old key. He unlocked the door and pushed it in. Inside was a space seemingly too large to be contained in the building they were in. It resembled a grand lobby of an old hotel. Paintings and tapestries hung on the walls. The marble floor was so highly polished that Ted was glad he insisted on wearing his sneakers. Any other shoes would have lost traction on the surface.
“The first time Mia was in here, she held her skirt about her knees. She feared we could see her underwear,” Gerald told them. “I love that child.”
“You’ve done well for yourself,” Orion noticed.
“If you live long enough, you collect things and a lot of money. Might as well use it,” Gerald said. “I wanted to have children to pass this on to. Sadly, it wasn’t to be.”
Mr. Villeneuve came in with a tray of coffee and small cakes. He poured everyone a cup before he left.
“Right now, I imagine you’re wondering how much you can tell me, and I am feeling the same thing. Ted doesn’t trust me because of Beverly and Angelo. Orion, you don’t like favor brokers. My turn. Ted, I never thought you were strong enough for our Mia. I was wrong. You have given her beautiful children, and have yet to oust her admirers from your intimate group. Everyone wants our Mia, but she only wants you - and maybe Murphy, but that is love, no?”
Before Ted could protest, Gerald moved on to Orion.
“You have a big secret and can’t tell me, even though it may bring light to this whole candle thing. Don’t tell me, little birdman. I don’t need to know. We’ll work around it.”
“So now you’ve cleared the air for all of us,” Ted said, “tell us about Quazar and the volo candle.”
“He didn’t make it, not the one you were given,” Gerald said, looking at Orion. “But after Mia and Mr. Wayne left the shop twenty years ago, he fingered the candle-making book and told me to go home. I think we can assume he made one. Why, is the question? He wasn’t in the next day. The day after that he told me he was going to close shop. I was a bit put out, but gargoyles can be rude. Three days later, a trunk was delivered to my apartment. Inside were some valuable books to continue my education with and this little charm,” he said, lifting a chain from his shirt. “Don’t stare at it because it unlocks the mind.” Gerald tucked it back in his shirt. “I never saw him again. It doesn’t mean he isn’t here. It means I never saw him. Quazar is a crafty gargoyle.”
“My son Brian saw Quazar watching him from the top of a building in the Magnificent Mile area. This was a little over a week before Audrey decided that we should all celebrate our birthdays together.”
“Tell me, was this her idea or yours?” Gerald asked Orion.
“Hers. We were at a restaurant, and as it often happens, the staff walk in singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to a customer. She said, ‘When was the last time you celebrated a birthday?’ I said after 500 plus birthdays, I was basically over it. She then went on to tell me about how many times the PEEPs crew had worked through their birthdays. She thought it would be a great surprise for us to bring a cake and have the whole gang celebrate together. No gifts, just cake and candles for wishes.”
“Innocent enough,” Gerald remarked. “But was it her idea?”
“What are you getting at?”
“We humans are very susceptible to influence. Find the right trigger, and even I can be persuaded to do things I never thought of doing before. Beverly knows these triggers. Therefore, I’m supporting her living in England in style, and I’m here working. Nevermind that. Audrey is a happy human, bubbling with optimism. A new mother with a…” Gerald’s eyes lit up. “It’s about your son. Not about Mia, although someone t
ook advantage of that situation. Not about your children, Ted. Brian is special, but not as special as Luke is.”
“Ted doesn’t know,” Orion said quickly.
“You don’t need to know, Ted, why Luke is special, but he has been the target all along. Tell me about where the candles came from,” Gerald insisted.
“We were at the farmers’ market downtown…”
“Downtown? Don’t you live in farm country? Why go downtown Chicago to the market?”
“Audrey’s idea.”
“Go on,” Gerald encouraged.
“There was a vendor there who had all these elaborate candles, and the aroma was so enticing…”
Ted didn’t need to be a psychic to know where this was going.
“We were going to buy a candle, and then Audrey remembered reading how burning fragrant candles could be harmful to small children and pets. So we were turning to walk away when the man at the stall put out a basket with these chunky small candles in it. They had no fragrance. They were all different colors. Audrey counted out a dozen. We purchased them and brought them home. I didn’t ask her what they were for. I’ve learned the hard way the result of saying, ‘Dear, do we really need…’”
“Do you have any left?”
“No. I assumed we left them at Ted’s house.”
Ted shook his head. “We have leftover cake but nary a candle.”
“If you still had the candles, then I’d say this was accidental, but someone cleaned up after themselves.”
“Who could do all this without any of us knowing? Do we have a mole in our midst?” Ted asked.
“No, just a very crafty gargoyle.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Audrey glanced back at the seat full of car seats and happy boys. Earlier, she and Glenda had enjoyed the admiring glances of the zoogoers as they pushed the two strollers. When people asked if all the boys were Audrey’s, Glenda snapped, “The ones with the beaks are my grandchildren.”
Audrey didn’t correct her. It was more fun that way.