The Ether

by Laurice Elehwany Molinari

  God created Abaddon to be different from the other angels. Their nature was goodness and kindness, while Abaddon’s nature was destruction. And because of that nature, Abaddon does God’s will but doesn’t live in the presence of God.

  He’s a very complicated guy, Vero thought.

  It was written that Abaddon would open the bottomless pit and release the locust creatures upon the earth when God said it was time. And he was also the one who would seize Satan and throw him into the pit.

  So basically, Vero figured, Abaddon wasn’t really on anyone’s side — he just wanted souls for his pit. He didn’t care if they were good or bad, human or angel. Body count was what mattered to him.

  Vero couldn’t understand how he’d come face-to-face with this creature and yet managed to escape. An angel in training was no match for Abaddon. What had happened down there? Vero was desperate to find out.

  Then a new thought occurred to him — Ada. The other fledglings lived all over the world, but Ada said she lived in a large city on the East Coast. That’s all he knew. She’d never told him which city, and he’d never asked. If Vero could reach her, maybe Ada could shed some light on all of this. That is, if she wasn’t already singing with the choir of angels.

  As soon as he got home, Vero used his family’s computer to search the Internet and try to locate Ada. He knew her last name was Brickner, so he searched through online phone books starting with Boston and working his way down to New York City. He called every Brickner he could find, but there were no matches to Ada.

  “I need to use the computer,” Clover said as she walked into the office. “You’ve been hogging it ever since you got home. And no one can get on the phone because you’re using that too.”

  “You have a cell phone,” Vero said, not taking his eyes off the computer screen.

  “I don’t want to use up my minutes.”

  “Vero, I need you to take out the garbage!” Nora called from the kitchen.

  Vero finally looked up at Clover. “Five minutes.”

  Clover gave him a look as he clicked the mouse and then left the room. Once he was gone, she sat at the computer and watched as the screen saver flashed photos of the Leland family. A wistful look came over Clover’s face. There was a photo of a young Vero and Clover body surfing in the ocean, another one of little Vero and Clover wearing matching cowboy hats and riding a pony, and one of Vero flashing the victory sign after winning his first track race.

  Feeling curious, she clicked on the “History” icon to see what Vero had been researching. Her brow furrowed when the name “Ada Brickner” came up on the screen multiple times. She wondered who that could be.

  Vero came back into the office. “Time’s up,” he said.

  “Who’s Ada Brickner?” Clover asked in a half-teasing voice.

  “None of your business.”

  “I think it’s a girl you like.”

  “Fine,” Vero sighed. “I do like her.”

  “Where’d you meet her?”

  Vero hesitated. “Um . . . well . . . uh . . . ” he stammered.

  Clover scrutinized him.

  “At the last track meet!” he quickly covered. “But she doesn’t go to our school, and I didn’t get her address.”

  Clover eyeballed Vero. She knew he wasn’t telling her the whole truth; he was hiding something.

  “Clover, come set the table for dinner!” Nora called.

  Clover gave Vero one last suspicious look and then walked out of the office.

  Over the next two days, Vero spent every spare moment making phone calls. He was driving his family crazy because no one else could use the phone. Clover squealed to her parents that he was trying to find his “crush.” Nora thought it was cute. Dennis was just grateful their long distance plan had unlimited minutes.

  By the time Vero got to the Philadelphia phone book, he was becoming discouraged. At least there were only seven Brickners listed in Philly — wait a minute! One listing was actually for an Ada Brickner! Vero couldn’t believe it! His fingers trembled as he dialed the number. He waited for the phone to connect, and as soon as someone answered, Vero said excitedly, “Ada, it’s me! Vero!”

  “Speak up!” an old woman’s voice came through the receiver. “My hearing aid ran out of batteries!”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I was looking for a younger Ada,” Vero said.

  “Well, I look a lot better than I sound,” the old lady replied. “But maybe you’re looking for my granddaughter, Ada.”

  “Yes, I am!”

  “Get a pen, and I’ll give you her number,” the lady instructed. “And hurry before I forget what it is.”

  Ada was alive! Vero hoped that meant the others were all right as well. He dialed her number and felt his heart pounding. Were the guardian angels allowed to have contact with one another outside of the Ether? He reasoned they must be, or else Uriel would have intervened by now.

  The phone rang a few times, and then a voice picked up on the other end.

  “Hello?”

  It was a voice Vero recognized.

  “Ada, it’s Vero!” he said.

  There was a moment of silence. Not the response he was hoping for.

  “Excuse me while I go to my room where it’s a bit more quiet. My brothers have the TV on too loud.”

  Vero heard a door shut and then Ada came back on the line. “Thank God, you’re alive!”

  It was definitely Ada. Vero was thrilled.

  “How did you find me?” Ada asked.

  “The Internet. I really need to talk to you.”

  “We thought they got you,” Ada said in a rush.

  “No, I’m alive. But what happened to you and the others?”

  Vero could hear Ada’s brother banging on her bedroom door and yelling, “I need the phone!” Then another brother picked up the kitchen phone and sang, “Ada’s got a boyfriend! Ada’s got a boyfriend!”

  “Get off the phone!” Ada yelled.

  He made kissing sounds into the phone before he hung up.

  “Could you come to my bat mitzvah this weekend? It’s here in Philly. We can talk there. I’ll just say you’re a friend from summer camp.”

  Ada gave Vero all of the necessary information just before a third brother picked the lock and opened her bedroom door. She quickly hung up the phone.

  And Vero realized he was going to his first-ever bat mitzvah.

  “No way!” Tack shouted as they shot hoops in Tack’s backyard. “You expect me to cover for you, and you’re not even gonna tell me why?”

  “It’s important,” Vero said. “I told my parents I’m spending the weekend at your house.”

  “Well I might just have to call and tell them otherwise. And here I thought you actually came over to hang out,” Tack caught the ball and headed inside the house with Pork Chop at his heels.

  Vero needed to come up with something quick.

  “Okay! The truth is . . . I met this girl. She invited me to her bat mitzvah this weekend. She’s really cute, so I want to go. I’ve got enough allowance money for the train ticket, and I can go up for the day and come back without anyone knowing about it. They’re gonna have a live band and everything.”

  Tack spun around and a smile erupted across his face.

  “A bat mitzvah?” Tack pulled off his Attleboro Middle baseball cap and ran his fingers through his sweaty hair so it stuck straight up. “That means there will be lots of thirteen-year-old girls there. Older women. I’m coming with you.”

  Vero shook his head and chuckled. “Fine,” he said. “But you definitely need to get a haircut first.”

  Then a thought occurred to Vero. “Since you’re coming along, can you get Martha to go too?”

  “My sister? What? Why? She’s no fun.”

  “Um, she’s seventeen and she drives . . . ” Vero explained. “It would solve how we’re going to get to and from the train station. And no one will question us if she’s with us.”

  “It’s risky, but I know someth
ing that could help,” Tack said, as he held the back door open for Vero and Pork Chop.

  “What do you two want?” Martha asked suspiciously, as Vero and Tack walked into her bedroom. Vero was holding a tray full of food, and Tack was holding Pork Chop.

  “Nothing more than your happiness,” Tack smiled. “Right, Vero?”

  Vero nodded eagerly.

  Tack put Pork Chop in bed with Martha. “Here’s your favorite puppy.”

  Hugging the dog, Martha sat up on her bed and stared the boys down. She was waiting for one of them to crack. Vero noted her eyes were the same deep blue as Tack’s. And with her messy strawberry-blonde hair, there was no denying the two were brother and sister.

  “We made your favorite: a potato chip omelet,” Vero said, placing the tray on her bed.

  Martha’s eyes narrowed.

  “How would you like an all-expense-paid day trip to The City of Brotherly Love in exchange for giving us a ride . . . this Saturday?” Tack asked.

  Martha bolted out of bed. Vero took a step back, suddenly feeling a bit afraid for his life. Pork Chop scooted under the bed with a whimper.

  But then Martha did something completely unexpected. She ran over and gave Tack a big bear hug. He was totally caught off guard by her display of affection.

  “I’ve always wanted to see the Liberty Bell!” Martha exclaimed. “Mom and Dad never took us there!”

  Over Martha’s shoulder, Tack winked at Vero. “Who knew?” he asked.

  23

  PHILLY

  The train ride from DC to Philadelphia took less than two hours, and Tack ate the entire time — mostly mini microwave pizzas that were being served in the café car. As the three of them sat at a table, Vero watched the landscape go by, feeling very much as though his life was moving as fast as the trees, houses, and cars that whipped past the train window.

  “Ouch!” Tack said.

  Vero turned and saw that Tack was holding his hand across his mouth. “I burned my tongue,” he explained.

  As Vero watched Tack pant to get some cool air on his tongue, a wave of sadness hit him. Vero knew that eventually these ordinary moments would be a thing of the past. In just a few years, he’d be gone from the earth for good.

  Tack took a huge bite of pizza that left a string of melted cheese dangling from his chin. Tack pulled the cheese off and shoved it into his mouth.

  Vero would miss Tack.

  In a stroke of good luck, Tack’s parents were out of town that weekend, and they’d put Martha in charge of her little brother. Their father had a dowsing job down in Texas, and their mother had tagged along so she could visit her sister who lived outside of Dallas.

  “I’m so glad I didn’t go to Texas with Mom and Dad,” Tack said with his mouth full. “I would have missed out on these pizzas.”

  Martha looked up from her tourism book on Philadelphia.

  “You didn’t go because they didn’t invite you,” she said. “Dad knows you’re totally worthless on dowsing jobs.”

  Vero saw Tack’s face drop. He knew this was a sore subject for Tack.

  “Don’t worry, Tack,” Vero said, trying to encourage him. “Didn’t you tell me that your mom is always saying she knows the dowsing gene is in you because no matter where she hides the Ding Dongs, you always find them?”

  Rolling her eyes, Martha stood and walked down the aisle. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”

  Tack had apparently lost his appetite. He dropped his slice of pizza on the plate.

  Vero looked at him, not sure if he should say anything more.

  But then Tack said, “You remember the other day, when you asked me about God? The reason I don’t think much about him is because I know he doesn’t listen to me.”

  Vero gave him a curious look.

  “Every night I prayed that he would let me be a dowser, but it’s never happened.”

  “Not yet,” Vero said.

  “But what if it never happens?” Tack asked miserably.

  “Then it means he wants you to do something else with your life.”

  As Tack contemplated Vero’s words, an announcement came over the PA system: “Next stop. Thirtieth Street Station, Philadelphia.”

  “Tack, you have your cell phone, right?”

  The boys looked up to see Martha standing over them. Tack nodded.

  “We’ll meet back here at the train station at four o’clock sharp. We’re on the four-thirty train to DC. Don’t make me sorry I trusted you, or you’ll regret the day you were born!”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Vero asked. Tack kicked him under the table.

  “No, thanks. I’m spending the day sightseeing — the Liberty Bell, Ben Franklin’s printing press, the Schuylkill boathouses, the Philadelphia Museum of Art . . . ”

  Tack rolled his eyes. “Boring.”

  “And then I’ll top it off with my very first authentic Philly cheesesteak sandwich.”

  Tack did a double take, “Hey! Bring me one, too!”

  “Shalom,” said a middle-aged man, as he held out his hand to the boys.

  Vero shook the man’s hand, “Um . . . shalom.”

  “Yeah, shalom right back at ya,” Tack said.

  Vero and Tack had just arrived at the synagogue. As soon as they’d stepped outside the train station, Martha put them in a cab while she went in search of the Liberty Bell.

  “I’m Ada’s father,” the man said. “But I’m sorry, I don’t believe I know either of you.”

  “Oh, we’re friends of Ada’s. We met her at summer camp,” Vero told him. “I’m Vero, and this is Tac — um, this is Thaddeus.”

  “Yeah, we went to camp together. I remember when I first met Ada. The counselors were teaching us how to surf,” Tack said.

  “In upstate New York?” Ada’s father asked.

  Tack froze. Luckily, Vero was quick on his feet.

  “Um . . . he means surf the Internet.”

  “Ah, yes, of course.” Ada’s father handed both of them a small cap and said, “Please go in and find a seat. We’re about to begin.”

  Vero and Tack placed the caps on their heads.

  “What is this?” Tack whispered. “A beret?”

  “It’s a yarmulke,” Vero whispered back. “It’s worn in the synagogue as a sign of respect to God.”

  Tack raised his eyebrows as Vero. “How do you know that?”

  Vero felt his face flush. “Uh, I learned it in school.”

  “They don’t reach religion in school.”

  “I meant Sunday school,” Vero said quickly.

  “Oh,” Tack said.

  How could Vero explain that Old Testament and Jewish traditions are things he’s learned about at C.A.N.D.L.E.? Once again, Vero felt shame in having to lie to his best friend.

  The synagogue didn’t seem all that different from his church at home. Light streamed in through stained-glass windows. The rows of pews faced a large, raised platform with an altar like the one at Vero’s church. And behind the altar, beautiful embroidered curtains in shades of deep purple and royal blue were pulled back to reveal the ark, the cabinet where the Torah scrolls are kept. But today, the scrolls were laid out on a table.

  Ada stood in front of them, looking nervous. Her olive skin looked flushed, as though she’d just run a mile. But she looked really pretty in her simple white dress.

  A woman primped Ada’s hair, kissed her, and then sat down in the front row. Vero thought she had to be Ada’s mother. Sitting on her mother’s right were two older boys — probably high school age, or maybe even college — and next to them were two younger boys, maybe six and seven years old. Vero knew these younger two were probably the ones who’d tormented Ada when he’d called her.

  An elderly woman slowly walked down the aisle on the arm of Ada’s father and then sat with the family. Vero heard one of the brothers call her Bubbe, which somehow he knew meant “Grandma.” And he noticed that she did look as old as her voice had sounded on the phon
e.

  The ceremony began. Everyone grew quiet.

  As Ada read in Hebrew from the Torah, the congregation replied with the appropriate prayers. Without realizing it, Vero answered in perfect Hebrew right along with the rest of the congregation.

  Tack looked at Vero with a strange, almost scared expression on his face. “When did you learn Hebrew?” Tack whispered.

  “What do you mean?” Vero asked.

  “You’re speaking perfect Hebrew.”

  This came as a surprise to Vero. He’d never spoken a single word of Hebrew in his life, save for that incident back in the Ether with the golems. He was as confused as Tack was, but he couldn’t show it.

  “Um, I’ve been studying it,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “Wow, you must have it bad for this girl,” Tack said.

  Loud music filled the hotel ballroom as two DJs whipped up the bat mitzvah crowd. Guests of all ages showed off their best moves on the multicolored dance floor. Bussing dirty dessert plates and silverware, the serving staff skirted around the dancers as they headed back to the kitchen with their arms full. Vero killed time by dipping strawberries on long toothpicks into the chocolate fountain.

  He was growing worried. He still hadn’t had a moment alone with Ada because it seemed like every single one of her friends and relatives had come up to congratulate her. And now Vero was running out of time. He and Tack needed to catch the train back to DC; and from the look of things, it was going to be hard to drag Tack off the dance floor.

  Ada glanced across the room at Vero. He locked eyes with her and then motioned with his head for her to follow him. Ada finally excused herself and walked over. She led him down a hallway away from the noise of the party, and they sat beside each other on a bench.

  “Mazel tov,” Vero said.

  “Thanks. I’m guessing you didn’t know you speak perfect Hebrew?”

  “Yeah . . . ”

  “It happens when you enter the synagogue. “It’s one of those hidden guardian angel talents.”

  Vero glanced at his watch. “Ada, I need some information, and I’m almost out of time. What happened down in that tunnel?”