by TJ Klune
And what happens now? Maybe Michael knew more than he realized. Maybe he knew all along when he said love is nothing without sacrifice. The act of sacrifice is by its very nature a selfless act, he’d said. One cannot sacrifice unless one is doing not for himself, but for the greater good. Your father knew this, Benji. He knew it more than most people.
My father knew. He knew about the greater good. He knew about what the cost could be.
And so do I.
I open my eyes.
St Jude Novena stares down at me, alight with such beauty that I tremble.
I caress my mother’s hand before I gently let it go. I stand. And turn.
Hundreds of people have filed into the church, filling the nave until they are shoulder to shoulder. The church is completely full, and I can see the doors at the narthex are open, and even more people fill the streets. I see them all—my friends, my family. Neighbors. People I’ve seen almost every day since I can remember. I see my town. I see Roseland. Some of them have their heads bowed, hands tucked under their chins. Others have their arms spread like wings, palms and faces toward the ceiling, mouths moving. Some look fearful. Others are crying. Still others are watching me closely, as if waiting for my next move, waiting for me to speak. But I can feel it. Even if they’re not all the same, I can feel them. They’re praying. Almost all of Roseland is praying. If one prayer is but a whisper, then this must be a roar to the heavens. These are my people. This is my home.
And if it can’t be his, I won’t let him disappear into the dark.
I turn back to St. Jude Novena.
“Michael,” I say, my voice strong. I hear people raising their heads, a rustle that reminds me of wings. “I know you can hear me, hear all of us. I know you’re listening. I know now what you meant. In the White Room. I know what you meant when you spoke of what love really means. You gave me a gift, or your Father did. You gave me what my heart wanted. You allowed me the moment to say good-bye. And I will remember what you did for the rest of my life.”
I take a deep breath. “But I also know that gifts come with a price. I know that all things demand sacrifice. We have a choice. We have free will. The design is not fixed. The future is not set in stone. You have made your decision, and you have helped me make mine.” I look down at the angel. My angel, my guardian. The blue lights are flashing brighter now, and his wings have returned, solid and sure. I reach down and rub my fingers over the feathers. They feel like home. They feel like hope. He deserves this. More than me. I lean over and kiss him gently. “I love you,” I whisper.
And then I stand, my shoulders squared, my head held tall. I am bigger than I ever felt before. I am stronger. I am braver. I am true. I will give up my heart to save his soul. “Take him home.”
The crowd behind me gasps as my mother struggles to her feet, grabbing onto me, asking me why, crying why. But I don’t back down. I don’t turn away. I don’t allow myself to be pulled into the throngs of people behind me and carried away. I ignore their cries, their tears, their anger and fear at what seems like my betrayal. The angel Calliel deserves his chance to be free of this place. Where he can hear his Father’s voice, even if it’s just a whisper. Where his soul will thrive.
I raise my voice. “You hear me, Michael? Gabriel? David? Raphael? He can’t stay here. He can’t. I won’t allow it. Not for me. Not with all that he’ll suffer. You take him back. Love is nothing without sacrifice, and I am willing to sacrifice everything for him, even if it means I’ll never see him again. Take him back to his Father. You take him home!”
Nothing.
“Michael!”
The cries of the town silence behind me as a white light explodes in through St. Jude Novena, illuminating the church in a fierce glow. It’s a warm thing, a curious thing, and all of Roseland holds its breath. They can feel it too, just as I can. It’s coming because it heard me. Heard all of us.
The light is blinding as it lowers to the ground at the back of the altar. It touches down, and the light begins to fade. Standing in its place is the archangel Michael.
He offers me a sad smile. “Benji,” he says with slight a nod of his head. “It’s good to see you again, child.”
“Michael,” I say in return. My mouth feels dry.
Michael does not look at Cal; instead, he seems interested in the townspeople who have gathered in the church. “What an odd little place,” he says. He cocks his head at the crowd, and as one they take a step back. “Hello.”
No one replies.
This doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest.
Cal stirs fitfully, and I think he’s about to wake. I put my hand to his forehead. He’s burning up. His skin is slick with sweat. He jerks beneath my hand, his face contorting in pain.
“Hush, brother,” Michael says. “Not yet.”
As if that’s all it takes, Cal stills. He sighs deeply but doesn’t wake.
I hear my mother moving until she’s standing in front of us, as if she can block Michael from Cal and me. If I know anything about her, she’ll try. I can’t allow that to happen.
“What an odd place this is,” Michael says again to the town. “On the outside, it looks like everywhere else. You go through your lives, day by day. Some of you pray. Some of you don’t. Some of you have damaged faith. Some of you have too much. Some of you have lied and stolen. All of you have hurt someone unintentionally. Some of you have done so with malicious intent. There is deceit and heartache and anger and selfishness. There is rampant sin. There are actions that go against my Father. I know, because I have looked. Since I have become aware of this place, I have looked. This place is no different than anywhere else in the world as far as I can see. There are secrets here that would destroy others if they got out. But you still all live here. In this town. This… Roseland. What is it about this place? And about this boy?”
His gaze rolls over the crowd. “One day, all of you will stand before your Creator and you will be judged for how you lived your life. On whether or not you showed kindness and compassion. On the purpose of your being and how you fit into my Father’s design. I wonder, though… here, now, if this will be your defining moment? Prayers are always heard, whether they are answered or not. Every day. Every person. Every single one. They aren’t all answered, not even the majority of them. But there’s a fundamental difference between saying a prayer and praying. One is recitation, the other comes from your soul. And in this church… I heard nothing but souls. Every single person here, and on the street outside, did not pray for themselves. You did not make personal requests. You thought about those of yours who you have loved and lost, and you bowed your heads. You prayed for an angel and a boy. For them to never be parted. Why is that?”
“Because they’re ours,” a voice says, sure and strong. I pull away from Cal and look out onto the nave. The crowd sighs as it shifts, the whispers picking up again.
Nina steps forward until she reaches the small steps to the altar. Michael looks down at her, a curious expression on his face, his white wings twitching as he stares down at the small woman before him.
“Are they?” he asks her kindly. “And why is that, child?”
“Because we’ve been the ones who have tried to hold them together when they started to break,” Nina says.
Rosie steps forward. “We’ve been the ones who held on when they shattered anyway, trying to hold the pieces together as best we could.”
Doc Heward raises his voice. “We’ve been the ones who swept up the pieces and put them back together.”
My Aunt Mary moves to stand by her sister. “And they did the same for us. Every day. They did the same for us. You asked why. The answer is because we could. We chose to do it.”
“Not all of you,” the archangel says. “Not all of you chose this. Some of you chose a dark path instead. Some of you chose pain and anger. Some of you chose yourselves over the good of your people.”
“And they’re all gone now,” Nina says, hanging her head. “Even Chris
tie.”
“Even Christie,” Michael echoes. He steps off the altar, toward Nina. The crowd takes a few steps back, pressing into one another as they try to move away from Michael. They’re in awe, yes, but they’re also scared of him. I can’t blame them. He’s accused them all of sin while also telling them they’ve done something he’s never seen before. It’s intimidating.
He stands before Nina and brushes the knuckles of his right hand over her cheek. “You know,” he tells her, “none of what happened was your fault, child.”
“Then whose fault was it?” she asks, her voice cracking. “If your Father is who you say he is, then why does he let such things happen? Why does he let us hurt? Why would he take people away from us? Away from each other?”
Michael doesn’t answer her. He’s waiting for something. He’s waiting.
For me.
“Sacrifice,” I say. The crowd turns its attention back to me. “It all comes down to sacrifice.” I step toward Michael. My mother immediately goes to Cal’s side. She holds onto his arm as he starts to jerk again.
“Yes,” Michael says, still watching my aunt. “Always.”
“Well, then, there is only one explanation,” Nina says.
“And what is that?”
She pulls her shoulders back and narrows her eyes defiantly. “Your Father is a bastard,” she says. “He takes what he wants, and he’s a bastard for it.”
The crowd moans. Mary tries to pull her sister away, but Nina shakes loose. She crosses her arms over her chest and refuses to move.
Michael looks amused. “Is that so?” he asks.
“Yes,” she spits out. “We give and we give and we give. We give all that we have, and it never seems to be enough. For every moment of happiness we have, there are always two things more that threaten to take it away. For every good, there is evil. For every love, there is hate.”
“Everything needs its opposite,” Michael tells her gently. “It creates order. Balance in the chaos.”
“Fuck your balance!” she cries at him. Startled, he takes a step back. “Fuck every part of it! We’ve had those we love taken from us so unfairly. We’ve survived everything that has been thrown at us. It’s time we got something back in return. No more sacrifice. Not today.”
He gapes at her. “Child, do you know who you speak to?”
“Do you?” she retorts.
“Nina,” I say quietly. “It’s okay. I can’t let him stay here. I can’t let him die.”
Her eyes fill with tears. She rushes past Michael and up the steps to the altar, throwing herself at me. I catch her in my arms and bring her close. I don’t know how much time I have left. “You listen to me,” I whisper harshly in her ear. “This will hurt. This will break us, but we’ve been broken before. We can put ourselves together again.” I try to say more, but my words feel like lies.
“Okay,” she cries softly. “Okay.”
“My Father is not a cruel being,” Michael says to the town. “I don’t pretend to know why he does everything he does. But I choose to believe there is a purpose to all things.” He turns to face me and takes the short steps back to the altar… and moves past me.
“Calliel,” he says, standing before the guardian. “Are you ready?”
As if waiting for this, Cal opens his eyes. I want to go to him, but I can’t move. I can’t even take a breath. I’ve made the only choice I could. I am sending him home.
“It’s time to go,” the archangel says.
“No,” Cal croaks. “I won’t. I won’t leave. I won’t leave them. Roseland. All of them. And him. I will never leave him. Go now, brother. Leave.”
Michael glares at him, his patience seeming to wear thin. “You realize,” he says, “that I could wipe out this town and its people with a single thought? I could send wave after wave of those things Benji calls the Strange Men here to burn this place to the ground.” His eyes turn black. “I am an archangel, one of the Firsts. I am the leader of On High, and you do not get to make demands of me, guardian.” Even though no real physical change overcomes him, his aura is something palpable and dark. It’s like he’s grown ten feet taller without even moving.
The people of Roseland shrink back.
“No,” Cal says, trying to sit up. A grimace of pain shadows his eyes. My mother tries to hold him down, but he’s too strong for her. I find myself moving before I can even think about it. I’m at his side only for a second before he shoves me away roughly. His eyes are only for his brother. “I won’t leave. Not now. Not ever.”
“Cal,” I choke out. “You can’t. You can’t do this for me.”
He ignores me. “Michael—”
Michael’s wings flash brightly as they snap open. A blazing halo appears above his head as he roars at me. People in the crowd scream, but they do not try to leave. If anything, they surge forward, pushing their way in between Michael and me. They form a circle around Cal and me, and while their eyes are alight with fear, and while their chests heave with ragged breaths, they don’t back down. They don’t move.
“This is our town,” Rosie growls at him. “And Benji and Cal belong to us. Cal is not yours. Not anymore.”
And as quickly as it came, the white lights around Michael fade away. His wings settle. His halo disappears. His eyes lighten. “This town,” he says as he chuckles ruefully.
And then it all comes charging back. His wings snap out to their full length. They flash a blinding light. The halo spins furiously. He rocks his head back and his mouth falls open, the cords in his neck straining against his skin. A great wind begins to rush over us all. The crowd around me tightens its circle, and Cal presses his head against my stomach. I wrap my arms around his head and hold him tight. My fingers brush over the groove caused by the bullet, and I know how close it was. I know how close this is now. “Until the very end,” I whisper.
The lights fade.
The winds die.
The crowd breathes around me.
Michael sighs.
“What did he say?” I ask him. “I know you just spoke to him. What did he say?”
The crowd parts as Michael walks toward us. I grip Cal tighter. He digs his fingers into my skin as Michael approaches, dragging his wings along the floor. He stops in front of me, glancing between Cal and myself. “I was tested,” he says roughly. He looks pale.
“Did you pass?”
“I don’t know.” He looks down at his hands. “We don’t always know the answers right away. Sometimes we never know. Things… things are changing. He….” Michael trails off, looking unsure.
“He what?”
“He has a message for you.”
Goose bumps break out over my arms, and I swallow past the lump in my throat. “What did he say?”
I have faith. I have faith. I have faith.
“He said… he said he wants you to know that those we love are never really gone.” Michael closes his eyes. “We may not get to see them like we used to, and we may not even remember what they sound like, but they will always be with us. Do you understand?”
My mother and some others around me begin to weep openly. Mary puts her arm around my mother’s shoulders and whispers quietly in her ear. “I understand,” I tell him. “Do you?” I don’t believe the message was meant for just me.
Michael’s eyes are bright when he opens them. “I think I do,” he says.
I nod. “Is that it?”
He looks down at Cal. “No,” he says softly. “Everything is changing.”
“Then we face it,” I tell him. “We face it head-on and we don’t look back.”
“I think I can see it now,” he says, raising his gaze to mine. “Why he chose you.”
I shake my head. “I’m nothing. I’m no one. I’m just one person.”
“No, Benji. You are so much more. You have changed the course of Heaven.” He takes a step back and closes his eyes, tilting his head back and taking a deep breath. “Brothers! I call to thee!”
There’s noth
ing at first, and it gives me time to panic, knowing, just knowing that Michael has called for reinforcements, that he’s going to take Cal away while others descend upon Roseland, destroying everyone and everything in their path
Then there are bright flashes of gold and purple and black. The people of Roseland cry out as they raise their hands to cover their eyes. I hold Cal against me, refusing to let go. If this is to be our last moment, then I want it to be with him.
The lights fade. I open my eyes.
Three more angels stand before me, next to Michael. The first is a fierce-looking man with black wings and black hair. He’s bigger than Cal, even, almost as big as my father was. He has a scowl on his face as he looks around the church, his dark eyes flashing in what looks like anger. He appears to be dressed for battle, his chest heavily plated in armor, gauntlets on his wrists. A sheathed sword hangs at his side. “Raphael,” Michael greets him.
He turns to the next man, who is slender and gorgeous. His hair is a cascade of blond curls, his eyes bright blue. His golden wings appear smaller than those of his counterparts, but he makes up for it with a wicked twist of a grin. My heart thumps lightly in my chest, an observance of true beauty and nothing more. “David,” Michael says.
The last man is staring interestedly at me and Cal. When he catches me staring at him, he gives a little wave, a big smile adorning his face, revealing even teeth. He brushes a lock of his long white hair out of his face and flutters his bright purple wings. Earrings that look like they’re made of stone hang from his ears. “Gabriel,” Michael says.