The Angels of Destiny

by Haydn Jones

  "Oh good, Pops will be pleased to see her." Richard walked into the kitchen and pulled a cold beer from the fridge. He opened the sliding doors onto the veranda and slumped into a lounger. Staring up at the night sky he took a long slug of beer and retraced the evening’s events. God would surely not want him to do such a deed as kill his own sister, his pregnant sister. He couldn’t volunteer, not like Jack did tonight. Vicki was going to die and he knew he was not able to stop it.

  Richard was not capable of original thought, all his life he had looked for guidance from one source or another. His job suited him. It was the same thing every day, out to Alcatraz and back again, and he didn’t have to make too many decisions other than when to dock the boat for maintenance or the frequency of trips to coincide with the demand. The route and ticket cost were decided anyway and thankfully not by him, so the power of Adam Domaradzki was intoxicating to him. The Father was his idol and his word was the truth. As a disciple he was commanded to do things and those commands were ‘Gods’ will. He couldn’t question the supreme command. If he was told to kill his sister then he would have to do it. Often when the Elder Father talked about doubt and the frailty of faith he would remind them of Jacob with the Angels in the darkness and his wavering would soon be restored.

  The following evening, Susan had seen the children to bed as usual and then driven down the 101 to the airport, some fifteen miles or so. At eight-twenty she parked up in the short term parking lot and made her way to the arrivals area. Looking at the arrivals display Susan picked out American Airlines flight no 519; it was flashing ‘Landed.’

  Vicki had flown from the Houston Hobby airport, near the complex, to Dallas and then direct to San Francisco some seventeen-hundred miles in total. Susan knew she would be tired and looking forward to a good nights sleep, but happy to know that her father was recovering well.

  Vicki walked out from the customs area and Susan was there to greet her. She noticed how pregnant she now looked and in need of some rest. "Hi Vicki," she said, as she approached.

  "Hi Susan, how are you."

  "Fine and yourself?"

  "Very well thanks, just a little tired, it’s been a long day. What’s the latest on Pops?"

  "Good news. He’s doing just great and looking forward to seeing you, as you can imagine."

  "After Richard called the other evening I thought it might be the end." Vicki said.

  "He’s a tough old cookie you know, and I’m sure the thought of being a Grandfather has pulled him through."

  " Let’s hope he keeps going long enough to pay for his University education," said Vicki laughing.

  "Ah, so it’s a boy is it?"

  “Oh, that’s just Rob’s wishful thinking. I’m sure a girl would be just as acceptable to him so long as she looks like me."

  Susan laughed, "I’m sure he’ll be delighted with whatever it is. I must say it’s difficult to hide the fact now isn’t it?" she said, looking at the protrusion in front of Vicki.

  "Yeah, he can’t wait to be a dad, he’s so excited."She said, holding her lump with one hand.

  "You picked a good one there Vicki."

  "I love him, Susan. Even more than I thought possible."

  "He loves you too, that’s obvious."

  "I must call him to let him know I’ve arrived safely. He gave me strict instructions before I left." Vicki took a cellphone from her bag and dialed. "Rob, Hi it’s me…yes I’m fine…no, no problems…sure... I’ll call you tomorrow after I’ve visited Pops…Yeah, Susan's here and she says he’s doing just fine…Okay… Love you too. Vicki switched off the cell-phone. Right now Susan, I’m looking forward to bed."

  "I’m sure you are. I’ll have you home in no time don’t worry.”

  The next morning, Richard left home early for the boat, saying that he had some work to do on one of the engines, and that he would be home for the evening meal Susan was planning for seven pm. Vicki awoke at eight after a good sleep. Feeling refreshed, after a power shower, she made her way to the kitchen. The aroma of bacon cooking filled her nostrils as she walked down stairs, and as she breathed out, she moaned gently in anticipation.

  “Vicki, is that you?"

  “Yes, Mom."

  "Tell Susan I’ll be down soon, I’m doing my hair."

  “Okay. Hi guys," said Vicki, entering the kitchen where the kids were already devouring a plate full of waffles covered in syrup.

  "Good morning, I trust you slept well?" enquired Susan busy cooking more waffles to keep up with the insatiable appetite of two growing boys.

  "Wonderfully well thank you. I feel quite refreshed now and just a little hungry having smelt the bacon."

  "Would you like two fried eggs as well?"

  "Oh yes, please.”

  "Sit at the table then, and help yourself to coffee. As soon as you’ve eaten these go and get ready for school you two." Said Susan, loading the large white plate with another four hot waffles.

  "Mom said she’ll be down soon."

  "Doing her hair no doubt," Susan commented. Vicki just nodded in agreement.

  "Are you having a baby?" enquired the youngest boy.

  "Yes, Paul I am."He giggled in embarrassment before devouring another waffle and running off to his bedroom.

  "He’s so stupid," came the response from Arron the eldest boy with a mouthful of breakfast.

  "He’s only six, Arron, don’t be so nasty." Replied Susan, with a stern look on her face.

  "What are going to call it, Auntie Vicki?"

  "Well, if it’s a boy we…"

  "Don’t you know yet?" Interrupted Arron sounding surprised whilst licking syrup off his fingers.

  "No not yet,"said Vicki smiling in amusement.

  "If it’s a boy we like the name James. If it’s a girl then either Sarah or Emma"

  "Very biblical interjected Susan."

  "I suppose so. I hadn’t really thought about that, but yes you’re right."

  "I hope it’s a boy," said Arron. "So that we can watch the Giants together."

  "Okay I’ll see what I can do for you," said Vicki, sounding quite serious but still managing to smile. Arron looked quite pleased with the response to his request and his round fresh face carried a broad smile. It would be a few years before puberty took control of his body, turning him into a spotty arrogant teenager.

  "There you are," said Susan, placing the delicious breakfast in front of Vicki.

  "Not only does it smell good, it looks good too."

  "Enjoy."

  "Oh I will don’t worry.”

  By ten o’clock Susan, Vicki’s Mother Mary, and Vicki had arrived at the St Francis Memorial Hospital on Hyde Street, only a few minutes by car from home. Vicki had picked up some fresh oranges and grapes from a corner store on the way and they looked delicious. Susan gave the name of John Stark to the awaiting sister on arrival at the observation bay and she gestured with her hand. "The cream door on your right, number 218," she said, quite bluntly.

  As they walked to the room Vicki watched the general comings and goings of busy nurses, ward staff pushing trolleys and doctors huddled together in conference. It reminded her that soon she would be in a hospital bed, screaming with pain as the impossible act of pushing a seven or eight pound baby through such as a small exit became reality. At the moment it wasn’t something she was looking forward to. The door of room 218 was open when they arrived and John Stark was out of bed, reading the San Francisco Chronicle, on a chair by the window.

  "Hi Pops, how are you?"

  “Oh, Vicki, it’s great to see you."

  "Don’t get up Pops," she said, leaning over to kiss him, followed closely by Mary and Susan.

  "They’ve got you wired up all right haven’t they?”

  "It’s monitoring my heartbeat. They say my rhythm is almost back to normal and the attack was only mild."

  "I brought you some fruit Pops, I’ll put it in the basket."

  "Thanks honey. You know you didn’t have to come all this way just
for me, I’ve got Mary and Susan to look after me. But, I must say it’s great to see you, especially looking so well. How’s that man of yours?"

  "Oh he’s fine."

  "Good guy that Rob," said Pops.

  "He's okay,” she said, winking at Pops. Vicki held his hand knowing he had a lot of respect for Rob, and it pleased her. She thought how surprisingly well he looked and very smart in his blue dressing gown that Mary had promptly bought for him the day before. The next hour was spent talking amongst themselves about the wedding and the birth and Pops reminding them on a regular basis that it was only a mild heart attack and that he would be fully fit within a matter of weeks. Vicki knew he would want to give her away but if that were not possible then Richard would have to do it.

  Richard arrived home just after seven, looking tired and in need of a shower. He kissed Vicki and made straight for the bathroom. "I’ll be about ten minutes Sue," he said, as he ran up the stairs.

  "Okay, suppers nearly ready."

  The meal of cold chicken and tossed salad was quickly devoured, followed by a large selection of fruit, cheeses and fresh sourdough. Vicki noticed how edgy Richard was but put it down to tiredness and hard work. "Have you been working hard over the summer, Rich?" she asked.

  “Yeah, I’ve had a good season sis, probably the best in a few years."

  Susan said, "I think he’s in need of a break Vicki."

  "Don’t start please."

  "Okay, I’m just thinking of your health that’s all."

  "What do you think of James or Sarah as names for the baby?" enquired Susan to Richard. “Arron thinks they’re very Biblical too."

  "Yes…I…suppose they are."

  "Well, do you like them Rich," asked Vicki.

  "They’re biblical all right."

  "Yes, but do you like them?"

  "I suppose so, I… I haven’t really thought about it," he said hesitantly.

  Susan had asked him outright in bed a few nights before, whether he had another woman or not and she felt sure he hadn’t. She was convinced it must be tiredness because they were okay for money. Somehow she had to get him away for a break, because that’s what he needed.

  "Rob and I have decided that we want the baby christened, Mom."

  "I’m glad about that Vicki, you bring that child up like your father and I brought you up, in a respectable home with Church on Sundays."

  Richard’s head was bowed, and he avoided looking up at the others. His hand covered his eyes as he rubbed his forehead nervously.

  Vicki noticed his agitated state and tried to please him by saying, "Rich, if Pops is not well enough to give me away, will you do it for me?"

  Richard looked up at her for a moment in silence. "Of course I will sis."

  Vicki got up and walked around to where he was seated. "Thanks," she said, kissing his cheek.

  "Well, if you’ll all excuse me I’m off to bed, I need some sleep."

  “Rich, it’s only eight-thirty,” complained Susan.

  “Sorry, but I’ve got another early start tomorrow, that engine’s still playing up."

  “ I’ll leave you some food in the fridge to take with you. Don’t forget to take it." She said sternly.

  “Yeah, okay. Goodnight everyone."

  "Goodnight," came the communal response.

  Waiting until he’d climbed the stairs, Susan said in a quiet voice "I’m worried about him, he’s never like this normally. Something’s on his mind and he won’t tell me what it is. I even thought he had another woman for a while."

  "Susan," replied Mary, in a shocked voice.

  "If he has, she’s sure wearing him out," joked Vicki. Susan laughed loudly before helping herself to more cheese and Mary smiled in slight embarrassment.

  Adam Domaradzki was sitting on a barstool in a small wine bar on Jones Street drinking a bottle of ‘Sierra Nevada’ beer. He wore tinted glasses and a black ‘Giants’ baseball cap that partially covered his impassive face. His grey jacket looked shabby and stained on the lapels and sleeves. Sitting next to him were two youths that had been drinking heavily and were becoming loud and aggressive. "You guys in need of something a little stronger?" Domaradzki asked. They looked at each other through drunken red eyes and smiled before laughing out loud. "What kind of stuff have you got old man?" Said one of the youths.

  "What would you like?"

  "Oh… Mister Big Time."

  "If you want to come with me, I’ll show you what’s on offer. It’s all pure stuff, I guarantee you."

  "I hope it’s purer than you are," said the other youth, bursting into loud laughter again and spilling beer down the front of his tee shirt.

  "Where is it then, mister?"

  "In my car up near Huntington Park, just a few blocks away."

  "We know where it is stupid."

  “Why don’t you carry some on you then?"

  "And you called me stupid." Domaradzki said with irritation in his voice.

  "How much?"

  "See it first, then we talk money."

  "Okay… let’s go."

  "Don’t leave with me, wait five minutes and then catch me up,” he said sharply, as he left the bar.

  "Let’s do this stupid bastard over Joe."

  "Yeah, lets clean him out and leave him in the gutter."

  “Yeah." Joe felt in his pocket for the penknife he’d never had chance to use.

  Some minutes later Domaradzki had visited his car and was calmly waiting at the entrance to the Park when the two youths arrived. In the trunk of his Ford was a plastic carrier bag containing a clean set of clothes, a towel and a new container of Wet Wipes.

  "Walk with me in the park to a quiet spot where we can do business, but keep your voices down, we can get pulled for this you know," he said quietly. The two youths were nervous and their adrenaline was pumping at the thought of free drugs and the chance to kick the old man senseless.

  Stopping at a place where the lighting from the street was dimmed by a tree, Domaradzki beckoned them to come closer. As they did he pulled two knives from his jacket and in a swift inward motion of his hands simultaneously slashed their throats, opening deep, bloody gashes in their necks that allowed the warm night air into their lungs as they inhaled in shock and confusion. Quickly he lunged the long bloody blades into their chests, twisting the handles like a trained assassin. Looking into their disbelieving eyes he smiled as their open neck wounds poured blood and bile that gurgled as they took their last breaths. In a pathetic attempt at retaliation, one of them reached forward with an outstretched arm but his trembling hand only slid slowly down Domaradzki’s jacket as he crumpled to the floor.

  Standing over them like a victorious gladiator after some great battle, he gouged out their eyes and cut out their tongues. One of the youths was still alive and his body spasmed while blood from his neck wound squirted upwards in gushes for a few brief seconds more. Domaradzki decided to take the bloody prizes home and boil the tongues; they would make a cheap and delicious supper for his poodle, Missy. He laughed when he thought about how the dog would swallow the eyeballs whole without chewing, even though he told her off every time, she still did it.

  Yuri Klyushin was sitting at his desk, busily working on the search plan for the next two months. He was a big man at just over six foot and two hundred and forty pounds. His short receding hair stood up in patchy tumps and he wore round gold rimmed glasses that contrasted with his strong square features. He had decided to point the radio transceivers at the constellations: Andromeda, Canis Major, Corrus, Pegasus and Ursa Minor and now he was busily noting the sub set of Open and Globular Clusters of interest to him when McPherson walked in. “Busy, Yuri?"

  "Very, I’m working on the plan for the next two months, come and take a look," he said, with enthusiasm and a hint of Russian in his voice. “Both upsilon Pegasus and tau Pegasus are approximately two-hundred light years, so I think they’re a good choice for distance category 2, don’t you?"

  "If you say so, Yuri," said
McPherson, trusting his judgement totally.

  "I’m also categorizing some Planetary Nebula and I’ll probably start with Gemini."

  "Whatever you say Yuri… Tell me something Yuri, do you believe in God? Do you ever wonder where all of this came from, this unimaginable mass of stars and gasses and energy?" Yuri looked upward for a moment before answering, as if searching for inspiration.

  "Do I believe in God?" He paused. "Life for my parents in Russia," he said very seriously, "was sometimes very hard. Like millions of other Russians they worked the land. Many times we were near to the starvation and many died in the cold Russian winters. Religion was something that people needed, it gave them hope and it frightened them, but then came the revolution of 1917, and in three days my friend, the tsarist Romanov's who had ruled Russia for three centuries had been replaced by the Bolsheviks, an almost unheard of party of idealists. My parents were believers and as a child I went to church, but faith to me was not something I understood well. After the revolution, religion was banned anyway, and no one was allowed to openly admit to having a faith in God. But, I was young and I didn’t care then and when I left Russia to go to University, I didn’t feel the need for religion anyway because I had many girls and vodka to occupy my mind." McPherson laughed and nodded knowingly. Yuri continued. "To answer your question Rob, I guess the answer is no. Now and then I think about it, but I guess it’s beyond my simple mind to understand such things. If there is a God, he never once answered the prayers of my parents and they died as poor as the day they were born, before I could return to my homeland. If he does exist, he is a very cruel God."

  McPherson was silent for a while, thinking about his words. "Vicki and I were talking about it last night and it seems that science postulates on the way the universe started, you know the ‘Big Bang’ theory and all that, but what was there before that? Who or what created the elements and what was there before the elements? Was there a time when there was nothing? I mean if there was, then how do you create something from nothing?"

  "Yeah, I’m not sure we’re meant to know those things, and even if we did, could we comprehend them? You see, our minds understand time, life and death, boundaries, changes of state; because that’s the world we live in; a finite world. But tell us that the universe is endless with no outer limits and that all mass came from another parallel dimension that we can’t see or comprehend even and then our cognitive thought processes break down. The human mind cannot understand principles that do not fit into our model of life."