Into This River I Drown

by T. J. Klune

  The dark man shakes his head quickly, as if trying to clear his thoughts. “Yes. Calliel.”

  They look at me again. The angel’s hands are still pressed against my back.

  The dark man says. “The angel Calliel. Where is he?”

  “I told you,” I say, my voice high-pitched. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

  “You’re lying,” the light man says. And then he smiles at me, and it’s such a terrible thing that my stomach twists and my skin crawls. There’s no humanity in it, just a wide grin under the dead, black eyes of a shark. “The scratches? Wings, we should think.”

  “What… scratches?” I say faintly.

  “The angel?” the dark man asks. “Where is he?”

  “I don’t know any angel!”

  “Lies,” the light man says.

  “Deceit,” the dark man says almost regretfully.

  They take a step toward me at the same time, and then another. And then another. “We can make you,” the dark man promises. “We can make you tell us things. So many little things.”

  I take a step back and glance down as something falls. A vase. Flowers spilled.

  The light man continues to grin at me. “Things… you wouldn’t normally share. Things your heart keeps hidden. It will hurt. The angel. Where is he? The angel Calliel.”

  “He has broken law,” the dark man says as they take another step. “He has disrupted order. The design. He is not belief. He has fallen from faith. His job was one single thing, and he broke. He broke from what he was.”

  “Make him call out?” the light skin man asks. “I think he will scream and the angel will come. Make him scream? He can… scream.”

  I feel like screaming. But I can’t.

  They are five feet away. The light man stretches out his arms in front of him, his bone-white fingers waggling at me, like he’s saying mine, give me mine, mine.

  “He’ll come,” the dark man says. “Scratches. On the ceiling. This boy is protected.”

  “How—”

  I bring my foot up and stomp on the vase. It shatters. The noise causes the Strange Men to take a step back. I reach down quickly and grab a large shard, the end wicked sharp. I point it at the Strange Men. “Come on, then, you assholes,” I snap at them. “You want to fuck with me? You want to fuck with my town? Come on, then!” By the end, I’m shouting.

  A flutter of wings from overhead.

  “He’s here,” the dark man says as he looks skyward.

  “Expected,” the light man says. “Make Benjamin scream? Maybe no time after. He should scream for his lies. He lies.”

  A snarl turning into a roar. Then, as if he had fallen again from the sky, Calliel appears in front of me, his dark-blue wings spread wide, thirty feet from tip to tip. The ground around us shakes as he lands between the Strange Men and me, crouching down, his head bowed. He’s still wearing the jeans I’d seen him in last, but they are dirty and torn, revealing swatches of white skin that are almost luminous.

  For the first time, a flicker of fear crosses the Strange Men’s faces as they take a step back. Whatever hold they had on me is released, and I fall to my knees behind Cal, almost unable to believe he is here.

  “Benji,” he growls without rising, his head still bowed. Nothing in the world has ever sounded better than my name on his lips. “Are you okay?”

  I want to tell him yes, I am okay. Now that he is here, I’ll always be okay. And as long as he stays, everything will be wonderful and he’ll never have to ask me that question again. But all I say is, “I think so.”

  He nods, the red stubble across his head almost glowing in the moonlight. His wings quiver and I smell earth. The smell is a palpable thing and it catches in my throat. “Stay behind me. Whatever happens, you stay behind me.”

  “Cal, I….”

  “I know,” his voice is still deep and rough. “There is much I have to tell you. But first….” He rises to his feet, towering far above me. He’s magnificent, stretched so high he looks like he could reach up and touch the sky. His skin appears to be twitching, and he glances back at me just once. His eyes are almost completely black, his jaw set, and I realize he’s furious, so much so that he’s shaking with it. But even as those eyes fall on me, I understand it’s not at me, none of his fury is directed toward me. His rage is meant for the Strange Men, and it takes my breath away. They’ve come to this place. They’ve threatened his town and threatened me. He’s so far in his anger that it’s making him quake. I nod at him, letting him know I understand. I move behind the stone angel, peering out around her wings.

  He turns back to the Strange Men.

  “Leave,” he says coldly. “You are not welcome here. This is my town. I have not called for your assistance.”

  “It appears you misunderstand our intentions,” the dark man says, cocking his head to the right.

  “We are not here to assist you,” the light man says, cocking his head to the left.

  “Angels do not belong on the earthly plane,” the dark man says, taking a step toward us.

  “You have broken angelic law,” the light man says. “You have defied God.”

  “Do not presume to know the words of my Father,” Calliel says, his wings shuddering. “Michael does not speak for God, no matter what he says.”

  Michael?

  “Michael sees all,” the dark man snaps, anger showing on his smooth face for the first time. “He is a vessel, put in place to speak the wisdom of God. He is one of the Firsts. You know this, Calliel. And you know the consequences for disobeying him.”

  “Guardians such as yourself are not meant to become corporeal,” the light man says, a sneer on his lips. “You are to assist your charges when the threads dictate.”

  “And a thread has arisen,” Cal growls. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end at the fury in his voice. “A thread has arisen for one of my charges. I followed that thread and it led me here. To see you threatening one of my own. So again, I find myself in a position of knowing what my Father has asked of me. You may leave now. Go back to Michael and tell him I still perform my duties as a Guardian. Tell him to come down himself instead of sending his minions.”

  The Strange Men look stunned. “You know that that is not possible,” the dark man hisses.

  “You know what could happen to him,” the light man barks. “You know what is happening to you even as you stand here.”

  “Why you have chosen to take this risk is beyond comprehension,” the dark man says, taking another step forward.

  “How you have survived this long is a quandary.” The light man takes a matching step. “Michael will want answers.”

  Cal forms his hands into fists at his side. “Last warning, men of nothing. Leave now. Threaten not my charges. I will not ask again.”

  “He’s weaker now,” the dark man says, a cold smile on his face. “Even he knows it.”

  “Yes,” the light man says. “He is. This will end now as we were instructed. We cannot go back to Michael empty-handed.”

  “So be it,” Cal says, bowing his head. “Father, forgive me for what I must do. I pray for you to have faith in me as I do in you. The thread is bright. Benjamin Edward Green is mine, and I will do what I must to protect him.”

  I am allowed a moment, an infinitesimal space in time where his words reach me and burn through me like fire. My mind is slowly catching up with my eyes, his sudden appearance after the absence of days that felt like years melting away like a bad memory. He came for me, I think, in this moment.

  But that is all I am allowed. As soon as the echoes of his words die out, the faces of the Strange Men twist into something clearly not human. They retain their shapes, their colors of light and dark, but it’s the way their mouths open wide, into gaping snarls that confirm they are no more human than Cal is. The roars that pour from their mouths are like a low screech, and they cause my eyes to water. I clap my hands over my ears to try and block the horrible noise. They hurl themselve
s at Calliel, hands outstretched, their fingers looking impossibly long, stretched out into points, like claws.

  Cal moves before I can cry out a warning. Almost faster than my eyes can follow, he spreads his wings again, raising them up and then slamming them down toward the ground. He’s launched into the air, even as the concussive blast of air from the downswing of his wings strikes me in the face, smelling of grass and earth. Blue lights flash and trail behind him, like a comet’s tail.

  The Strange Men land where he stood only moments before, screeching louder, glaring upward. I follow their gazes and see Cal thirty feet above them, the blue lights arcing their way around him, the stars a halo behind his head, his wings moving up and down lazily. The moon peeks out from behind the clouds like it wants to light up this creature in its sky and show the world something it has never seen before. I cannot make out his face, but I can see the anger emanating from him. He is breathtaking.

  And then he crosses his arms over his chest as his wings fold to his sides. He falls backward. Above the angry calls of the Strange Men, I can hear the wind rustling over his wings as he plummets toward the earth. I only have a moment to be alarmed, to think maybe he is falling again, that something is wrong, that he’s going to crash into the ground, and the Strange Men will fall on him with their terrible claws, their stretched faces.

  But that is not what happens at all.

  He’s ten feet above the ground, falling headfirst, the Strange Men’s arms outstretched as if they will catch him, when his wings snap open. Air immediately pushes against the feathers, slowing his descent. He folds them again as he twists his body. The Strange Men shout incoherently as he rockets between them, reaching, but grabbing only empty air, the blue lights flowing around them. The rush of air left in his wake knocks them off balance, and they stumble as they attempt to stay upright.

  Even as he passes between them, he’s spinning again, until he faces the Strange Men, his wings unfurling, causing him to come to an immediate stop in midair, his wings pumping around him. He catches both of the Strange Men by their necks as they fall into him. He raises them both off the ground, digging his fingers into their flesh. The Strange Men kick their legs, flailing and trying to scratch at his arms.

  The expression on Cal’s face is pure fury. A low growl rumbles out of him, his chest heaving. The Strange Men start to choke and gasp for air. I wonder what will happen if he continues to squeeze, if his hands will tear into their skin. Do they have blood? Will it pour over his fingers? He’s called them men of nothing, but surely they live if they are struggling to breathe.

  “I gave you warning,” Calliel says coldly. “I gave you an opportunity to leave Roseland, to leave him alone. You ignored my warnings. You chose to attack what is mine. I will now rid this place of you.”

  “You know… what Michael… will do,” the dark man gasps.

  “You have… broken law,” the light man gurgles. “You cannot believe… that you can stay here.”

  “You have forsaken your Father,” the dark man spits out.

  “You have only made this worse,” the light man warns. “They will come for you in greater numbers.”

  Something crosses Calliel’s face, and his expression falters. I want to call out to him, to say his name, to tell him to set them down, that he is not the judge and jury, not the executioner. But my words barely break a whisper; my throat closes in disbelief. Cal’s eyes harden again and the snarl returns.

  “This is my town. These are my people. Benji is mine. Let them come. You won’t be here to witness it.”

  “The black,” the Strange Men choke out as one.

  “Sin,” the dark man says.

  “Vile,” the light man says.

  “Be gone,” Cal says.

  “No,” I whisper.

  The Strange Men begin to shriek again, their cries loud, echoing over the cemetery. Cal’s blue lights begin to gather and swirl behind him, slowly at first, but then in an ever-widening vortex. There’s no sound, but it’s not silent. It’s as if there’s an absence of sound, as if it’s being sucked toward the maelstrom. I can see through the center of the spinning blue halo, the headstones behind it flashing in the light. But then the center of the halo explodes outward, and a black void fills the circle. It looks like a large dark eye: a spinning blue cornea, a great black pupil.

  Cal spins on his heels, his wings flaring out behind him, bringing the Strange Men around with him. As he whirls, he releases them, first the light man, then the dark man. The light man is the first to reach the dark eye, and he hits the black center… and disappears, his entire suit falling to the ground. The dark man follows, his suit fluttering down to the ground as he enters the black. As soon as they’re gone, the swirling black hole explodes in a soundless flash that burns my eyes.

  And then it’s over.

  He stands facing away from me, as if watching the empty space where the hole had been. His wings fold back against him again, and I can see he’s trembling, clenching and unclenching his hands.

  “Cal?” I manage to croak out.

  He turns. The anger has left his face, replaced by despair. Horror. Anguish. “Benji?” he whispers, sounding broken. He falls to his knees, his wings shaking behind him.

  I should run to him, I know. I should run and comfort him and make him okay. Make everything okay. But it’s hard to move my feet. I’m weighed down by the last words I said to him, how I forced him away. How I made him leave. This isn’t on him. None of this is on him. It’s me. Everything about this is me. And again, he’s come when I’ve called for him. He’s come when I didn’t deserve it. He’s come to bring light to my world, to save my life and keep me from drowning. Dear God, how could I deserve this? How could he even be here with me?

  I take a step toward him, hearing his ragged breath. It seems like I take days to reach him, hours stretched out where I’m sure I’ll be struck down by the might of his Father, sure I’ve failed whatever test has been put before me.

  But it doesn’t happen.

  I stand before Calliel. His head is bowed.

  “Benji,” he breathes. He doesn’t look at me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I choke out. I reach out and cup his face.

  He leans forward, pressing his forehead against mine. Even in the dark, I can see the glitter of his eyes. “Your thread. I saw your thread, and I was scared. It was so bright.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I d-didn’t mean….”

  “I know,” he says, and I almost believe he does. I feel his breath on my lips. “I know. I thought… no. I was scared. I didn’t know what else to do. Benji. I’m sorry.”

  “I thought you were gone,” I say weakly. “I thought you’d left me too.”

  He widens his eyes and pulls back, bringing his hand to the back of my head, pushing me into him as he kisses my forehead. “No,” he says in obvious distress. “I will not leave you again. I will always be with you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please believe me.”

  “You can’t say that! You don’t know what will happen! This is on me. This is all my fault, and I—”

  “Never,” he says. He brushes my tears away with his thumbs. “Never again. You are my—”

  “Benji?” a voice calls out, cracking.

  “No,” I whisper.

  Cal spreads his wings quickly as he rears back, the blue bright against the night sky.

  I turn my head.

  Standing next to the stone angel who guards the small patch where my father sleeps is my mother. And she has seen the angel Calliel for what he really is.

  part iii: trust

  The man at the end of his life sat on the river’s edge. The River Crosser sat next to him, waiting for another passenger. “I can’t go across yet,” the man said, picking at a blade of grass.

  “What happens if my son needs me and I am not here?” The River Crosser didn’t answer immediately, just sat, watching the man. Finally, the River Crosser stood up straight and stretched. He looked
out at the river. “You know,” he said with a frown, “everyone will always need something.” He sighed. “But you have to trust they’ll know how to take care of themselves.”

  the voice of god

  My mother had received a message from Rosie, she told us, her voice

  wavering. She’d been in the next county over, delivering some baked goods to a women’s shelter. She’d stayed a bit later than she planned, talking with some of the women, making plans to assist them with a fundraiser happening in the fall. She hadn’t even realized she’d left the phone in her car. She hadn’t gotten the message until dusk, as she was driving home.

  Strange Men, Rosie said in the message, were asking questions about Big Eddie. My mother needed to find me, to make sure I was okay, that nothing had happened to me. The store was already closed when she’d arrived. She drove to Little House, and I wasn’t there. She was worried about me, she said, though she couldn’t really explain why. Just a feeling she had when I didn’t answer my phone when she called. She didn’t know who these Strange Men were, or why they had been asking about Big Eddie. Why now, all of a sudden?

  She thought about driving to mile marker seventy-seven, but she knew she’d kick herself if she got all the way out there and I wasn’t there. She wasn’t sure there was time for that, especially if she was right. She knew Cal was gone. The Strange Men could only have made this situation worse. She decided to go to the cemetery first, be it intuition, be it knowing how I am, she didn’t know. She’d cried out in relief when she saw my truck. She parked next to it and hopped the chain.

  And then?

  Blue lights. Impossibilities. A light and dark man attacking me. Wings spreading and soaring into the sky. Cal. She wasn’t seeing what she was actually seeing, was she? It wasn’t possible. The world didn’t work in mysterious ways. It was only black. It was only white.

  “It’s not possible,” she says now as I hand her a cup of coffee in Little House. She