Pieces of Hope

by Carter, Carolyn

  “Young Catherine . . .” Again those commanding, resonating voices—like a choir of, well, Angels. “Is this more pleasant to your ears?”

  Despite my stupor, I slowly realized they were speaking aloud for my benefit. But I couldn’t answer them. My tongue was thick, a lump of dry clay in my mouth.

  “And you tarry . . . you tarry despite our admonishment!”

  It took me a couple seconds to translate “tarry” and “admonishment” into delay and warning. I needed a thesaurus to keep up.

  “Our world revolves around dark and light, Young Catherine. Nefarious and Divine reside together in mutual harmony—as it should be, as it has been, as it always will be—beings beyond the scope and breadth of your human imagination.”

  “But there is also order—Divine Order,” Uriel proclaimed in a voice deep as water. “And that is our sole purpose . . . This Divine realm was not created for the living. You have been granted a glimpse of our world, one which will ultimately require a sacrifice on your behalf, but one which will, nonetheless, irrevocably alter your path.”

  There was a deliberate pause. Their eyes didn’t leave mine, nor could I turn away from theirs. Transfixed, we gazed at one another—the ordinary and the Divine. Though it was delivered compassionately, their message was delivered with a sense of urgency. And they had made something abundantly clear. No matter the choice I made, I was going to lose something . . . or someone . . . in the process. And that was the real problem. I wanted to lose nothing. To give up nothing. Whatever was wrong with having your cake and eating it, too? Hadn’t they heard of that expression? But as their Divine eyes bore into mine, it proved too difficult to hold on to my anger. Love, hope, inspiration, and awe filled me up as if I were an empty cup. And, decidedly wonderful as it was, it also made my thoughts as scattered as dandelion fuzz.

  And then, more commanding—the choir reaching its crescendo—I felt the hair on my arms stand up as they uttered in unison, “We urge you. Do not long tarry.”

  My rebellious side kicked in and I thought about telling them that what I did, or how I did it was none of their damn business. But after evaluating their size, their Divine powers, and their eternal duty to protect the boundaries of life and death, I reconsidered that and shut my big mouth. Not that I could have spoken if I’d wanted to. It was just the principle of the thing . . . Why couldn’t they take me to my mother—wherever she was? Or bring her back to me? They knew that was what I wanted. They knew it was all that I wanted.

  Well, mostly.

  I also wanted Ethan—desperately. And I wanted Daniel to be happy, if possible—without me. And yet, out of sheer selfishness, I had pitted all the people I loved most in this world on opposing sides of the universe. How was I going to fix this mess without hurting someone?

  “Young Catherine, speak your heart’s greatest desire.”

  I stood transfixed. It was Gavriel’s voice—alone, solitary—so soft and comforting it brought tears to my eyes. I had never heard anything so beautiful.

  “Speak now, young Catherine.” Gavriel cast a cautionary glance to where Verchiel, bearing an impish grin, was suspended beside him. My love stupor lifted instantly.

  “I . . .” My mouth felt dry. I swallowed a couple of times then tried again. “I want to see my mother. I need to tell her something. Ask her something.” Tears were flowing freely now, running like little rivers down my cheeks.

  “Young Catherine . . .” Gavriel’s compassionate eyes were upon me. It seemed like he was staring into my soul. I suddenly felt hopeful I might see my mother again. “Do your thoughts linger . . . even after the beauty you have witnessed here, as to whether your mother is in a heavenly place? Do you question her love? Do you doubt her heart’s desire for you to have a long and happy sojourn . . . even if she cannot be beside you?”

  “It’s nothing like that!” I argued, sounding more like myself now. “I need to ask her something important. My heart won’t let it go! Is there no way for you to understand?” My voice was getting louder. “Is that too . . . too human for you?”

  “We understand more than you know, Young Catherine.” It was the boyish Verchiel. His voice plucked my heartstrings like a harp, persuasive yet soothing. A single tear rolled down his cheek. “We share your misery; we know your pain. But even in this realm, there is free will. And Young Vivienne must share your heart’s greatest desire or it shall not come to pass. We, alas, cannot intercede. You should know she loves and misses you and wishes you well on your sojourn.”

  “And you dropped by just to warn me to return?” I felt anger burning a hole in my belly. My mother didn’t want to see me? How could that be? “Angels or not, you’re wasting your breath! I’m not leaving until I see my mother!”

  A warm cloud of love and hope consumed me. The burning hole began to lessen. The internal shaking ceased. I inhaled a full, sweet breath of air.

  “Have you seen Young Daniel recently?” Uriel asked me in the deepest of baritones. I could see that he had risen higher above Gavriel’s head, his intense gaze focusing on me. It wasn’t startling, as I would have thought, though I suspected he had the power to make it so—if he wanted it. “We seek his . . . assistance in a matter.”

  “You seek Young Daniel’s assistance?” Great. Now I was talking like them. Next thing you knew I’d be using words like omnipotent and avenge and sojourn and . . .

  “We believe Young Daniel may have wandered astray,” Uriel continued. “We merely seek to establish Order—Divine Order.”

  “Oh, I see.” I gulped. “Divine Order.” I didn’t like the sound of that or the questions it raised. Were they hoping to protect Daniel from something else . . . or from himself? When it came to Daniel, it wasn’t an easy guess. He had a knack for getting himself into trouble, usually the worst kind.

  “Very well,” Camael broke in. His tight flaxen curls didn’t move as he tipped his head in my direction. I had a momentary desire to go create something—a house, a book, a picture—anything. “We shall continue on our sojourn. And you, dear Young Catherine shall continue with yours.” They dipped their perfect heads in unison.

  In that exact instant, I heard the dry grass crunch behind me. My senses were set on hyper-speed, but before I could even think of turning on my heel, Gavriel said gently, “Young Ethan, has your sojourn proven more fruitful in this lifetime?”

  By the time I’d twisted around, Ethan had that lovesick look on his face—the same one that I’d seen on Brody—and I was reminded of what Creesie had said a few moments ago. Any sensitive individual would feel besotted. Was that the real reason why Daniel was immune to their effects? Was he not sensitive enough?

  Ethan was in no shape for speaking. I whirled back in time to see the Powers smiling serenely upon us. Delivering a final blessing, they spoke as one in their commanding voices, “Safest of sojourns.”

  And with that, they were gone.

  Ethan had dropped to his knees, drawing enormous gulps of air. I swatted him a few times on the back. Hard. Until he grabbed my arm to stop me.

  “I don’t . . . require . . . the Heimlich.”

  I chuckled. “Coulda fooled me.”

  Gathering another breath, he muttered, “I suddenly have an acute understanding of your emotional state. It’s a little off the charts here, isn’t it?”

  “You could say that.” I couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off my face. All the telling in the world wasn’t half as good as Ethan experiencing it. He was still down on all fours. He slowly raised his head, then stood on his knees. With my hand to steady him, he got to his feet, shaky but better.

  “Were they what I think they were?” He shifted his chin toward the sky.

  “Yep,” I replied, still very smug.

  “You could be a little more sympathetic, you know.” He was referring to my grin; I did my best to erase it, but the corners kept popping up. Ethan’s brow wrinkled. “What did that question mean, anyway? The one about my sojourn being more fruitful.”

  “
Don’t you know?”

  “I have no earthly idea,” he mumbled, perplexed. I giggled at his use of the word earthly—heavenly might have been where he needed to look.

  Moments later, my hand secured in his, we strolled along the bluffs’ edge. It was as high as Brody had boasted—about a hundred feet—and Ethan insisted he should walk on the outside, closest to the edge (a gentlemanly gesture, no doubt) but it made me more than a little nervous to let him do it. I kept thinking about repercussions.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” There was awe in his voice, and I knew he was talking about the Powers and their Divine gifts. “The things they make you feel . . .”

  “Yes,” I agreed. Before I’d met them, the closest I’d ever come to that sensation was the way that Ethan made me feel. I looked right at him. “Amazing.”

  “Speaking of amazing, how soon will you be returning to the living realm?”

  It was an innocent-enough question, but I bristled. Something crawled up the back of my neck—an irritation, a gnawing aggravation, and I bit my lip to keep from speaking. I was about to say something mean, something I knew I would regret. Someone else was with us. That was a given. And I only needed one guess to get it right.

  “Yes, Hope, how soon will you be leaving this amazing place?” Daniel was loping toward us, beaming a magnificent smile in my direction as though our chance meeting was quite the happy accident.

  I nearly bit his head off. “What are you doing here?”

  He ignored my question, his eyes darting toward Ethan. Something sinister reflected in his smile. “Try to imagine a world where you could be or do anything you wanted . . . a world without boundaries, restrictions, or limitations. Why would she ever leave here? After all, there’s nothing she would long for—nothing she can’t create. And besides,” he added, his words burning through me like acid. “I’ll be right beside her.”

  An uncomfortable moment passed as they glared at one another.

  “Are you arrogantly suggesting that you’re all she’ll ever need?” Ethan’s voice was low and controlled. “Can it be that your desire to possess Hope is so irrational that you’d ask her to give up her entire family to be with you? I thought you were a little smarter than that.” He sized Daniel up. “Not much. But a fraction, maybe.”

  Daniel smirked, seeming unbothered by the insult. “And what do you propose to give . . . your undying love? That’s no less than what I’m offering—only I’m willing to do it here. Now! Would you be willing to make the same sacrifice?”

  Daniel suddenly stood straight-up. Not his usual casual stance—a challenging one. It surprised me to see that the two of them were the same height. I had mistakenly assumed that Ethan had a few inches on Daniel. Standing this close, I thought they resembled one another in some altered universe sort of way. On second glance, the differences were striking. Ethan’s shoulders were broader and he was much more muscular. Ethan looked like a young Greek god when paired alongside Daniel’s boyish body.

  “She was going to ask you, anyway,” Daniel badgered. “And like they say, there’s no time like the present . . .” My anger boiled to the surface. I really wanted to murder Daniel. I thought it as hard as I could. Daniel looked over and smiled lazily at me.

  At first, Ethan seemed puzzled. He looked at me, then at Daniel, then at me again. I could see him turning it over in his mind, trying to decide whether Daniel was lying. “Is that true, Hope? Were you going to ask me if I would stay with you—here?”

  I was certain my face reflected the same bewildered expression that Ethan’s wore. I took one of his hands in mine to soften the blow. “I considered asking, but only because of my mother. I only need a few more days!” I insisted. “It’s urgent that I speak with her!”

  “But you . . . considered it?” he repeated, his tone frightfully deep.

  I swallowed, nodded once. Ethan’s expression turned stony, and I shrank from the anger I saw just beneath the surface.

  “You were considering,”—I instantly regretted using that word—“asking me to kill myself?” The actual requirements were starting to sink in and I cringed at the way Ethan had said it. “What method were you going to suggest? Did you prefer a slow death, a handful of pills, or perhaps a leap off a cliff?”

  I swallowed hard, then attempted a joke. “Only if it was really big cliff,” I teased. “I wouldn’t want you to be a vegetable for the rest of your life.”

  Ethan didn’t answer. He smashed his lips together, and I watched as the muscle in his jaw started to jump. I thought I could hear his blood boiling.

  “I take it that’s a no?” Daniel was grinning again. “No noble excuses, no long boring speeches? Frankly, I’m a bit disappointed. I really thought you were the one.” He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. “This will probably take me all of fifteen seconds to get—”

  I was still looking at Daniel when it happened. There was a floomph, the sound of air expelling very rapidly, as Ethan rammed himself headfirst into Daniel’s stomach. For several seconds, they tumbled on the ground at blinding speed. (Daniel’s doing, I knew.) Following the initial strike, Daniel recovered quickly. He sprang lightly onto his feet as if it were little more than a love tap, and grinning, he taunted Ethan until he finally charged again. That was the first moment I’d seen Ethan lose his sense of permanent cool. Head-down, red-faced, and roaring, he rammed Daniel like an angry bull. I awaited the sound of crunching bones. But Daniel was too fast for that. At the absolutely last fraction of a second, he took the smallest step sideways, removing himself from harm, and infuriating Ethan in the process. Again and again, Ethan charged. And again and again, Daniel did his last second sidestep dance. Fully aware that he had the unfair advantage, he used it to the best of his ability to torture Ethan with. Daniel knew, as a disembodied form, that Ethan—still a part of the living realm with all its physical limitations—was no match for him.

  “Knock it off!” I shouted as Daniel stuck out his foot, tripping Ethan. “What’s the matter with you two?” Childish didn’t begin to cover it.

  They both cast vicious glares in my direction.

  “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger!” I shouted. “I may be the middle man, um, girl . . . But you two act like this is a long-standing feud. I half-expect to hear you’ll be meeting at dawn to square this with a duel.”

  “Hey, that’s not a bad idea. Whaddya say?”

  “Danielle, you wouldn’t stand a chance. I’ve seen eight-year old girls who are more masculine than you.”

  Daniel cocked his head and quipped, “Don’t hate me ‘cause I’m beautiful.”

  “Knock it off!” I repeated. “Seriously, can’t either of you feel that?” With my hands outstretched, I touched the air. “It’s palpable!”

  “We despise each other and yet you find that odd?” Ethan’s voice was almost cold. “I must be missing something.”

  “Yeah,” Daniel agreed sarcastically, pointing absently at Ethan. “Who wouldn’t hate that guy?”

  I flung my hands in the air. “Ugh! The two of you are exasperating! And to top if off, you’re ruining my party! I haven’t seen my family in what seems like forever, and your . . . your selfishness is spoiling everything. Haven’t I had enough tragedy in the last few days to last me a lifetime?”

  “It’s not my fault.” Ethan’s eyes flicked over to Daniel, triumph burning in them.

  “Yes, it is your fault,” I insisted. “You and your polite coercion—”

  “Excuse me . . .” His voice dropped so low I barely heard it. “Coercion?”

  “Yes! Bringing our families here so they can remind me of everything I’ll miss. And if—or rather, when I run into them in the living realm, it will be my greatest fear that they’ll have some sort of Hope déjà vu which will only end up making me feel guiltier for having stayed here as long as I have.”

  Daniel snickered.

  “And you!” I turned sharply on my heel. “Don’t think for one iota of a second that you’ve slipped under the ra
dar. Ethan’s right. You caused most of this mess just by showing up when you weren’t invited. You do that all the time lately. It’s obnoxious. It’s annoying. It’s . . . it’s exasperating!”

  “She loves me,” Daniel whispered as an aside to Ethan, as if they were the best of friends. “Can you tell? Only someone you love could get under your skin like that.”

  I supposed there was some truth in what he’d said, but I hoped there wasn’t. They glowered at each other once again, their hatred for one another glaringly obvious.

  “My party!” I reminded them. “Why do you two act like I’m the last cookie in the cookie jar? Don’t you see it? This emotion is more than what the circumstances require. I can feel the contempt pouring out of each of you, and quite honestly, this is out of character for both of you.” There was no response. They continued with their stare-down as though I hadn’t spoken. Out of sheer frustration, I muttered, “Fine! Tear each other apart. See if I care!”

  I didn’t mean it. I really didn’t. But as I stomped away from them, those simple words seemed to unleash a caged fury in both of them. Something behind me—a crunch of grass, a muffled thud—caused me to whirl sharply in their direction.

  They were hovering a few feet from one another, locked in place like two grizzlies about to eat one another. I followed Daniel’s line of sight as he bore a hole into Ethan, then followed Ethan’s back to Daniel. In a one-on-one in the living realm, Ethan could have taken him easily—he was muscular but quick—but he didn’t have the slimmest chance here, not with Daniel’s unique advantage. I caught the slightest hint of Daniel’s thoughts, but reacted an instant too late.

  Daniel lunged at Ethan, clipping him hard on the edge of his shoulder. To Ethan’s credit, though he wobbled a little, he took the first blow standing. Although I wasn’t sure he saw it coming (and neither had I), Ethan didn’t even flinch on that first strike. He wasn’t the slightest bit afraid.

  Daniel was unbelievably fast. Swiftly, almost imperceptibly, he yanked back his fist and struck Ethan square in the eye. Ethan flew backwards several feet, landing on a grassless patch of land that I hoped was more sand than stone. And he wasn’t moving. My eyes flicked to Daniel. He was striding casually toward the unconscious Ethan, a venomous expression on his face, and seeming to relish the fact that he could do anything he wanted—Here. His prey—his choice. I half-expected to see reptilian scales covering his body and long sloping fangs as he sneered. But though he didn’t transform into the monster that I imagined, that murderous look alone was enough to send seismic waves of terror rippling up and down my spine. But I wasn’t afraid for me. I was afraid for the object of his unblinking focus.