by Jerel Law
It was hard to actively listen for Elohim’s voice when Frederick’s filled up his ears all the time. He had taken to calling Jonah names in front of everyone else. The others didn’t join in, but most of them laughed, except of course for Eliza, Jeremiah, David, and Julia, Eliza’s Brazilian roommate.
It was either, “Hey, pimple-face!” or “How’s it going today, ProActiv?” Or the classic, “What’s up, pizza-face?” Frederick would laugh at how funny he was, and it was all Jonah could do not to unleash all of his angel strength on the boy. His friends stood up for him, especially Eliza. But it was still embarrassing. He knew the giant zits were gross.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t been trying to do something about it. He had made more trips than he could count down the street to the Duane Reade pharmacy, trying every cream, lotion, and pimple cleanser they had on the shelves. None of them worked. He was even beginning to think they were just making it worse.
One afternoon, Jonah secretly made a trip back down to the Chinatown area of the city. There were all kinds of places that offered herbal remedies, mostly run by shrunken, ancient-looking old women. Maybe one of them could help.
He picked a shop and opened a creaky old door, immediately finding himself in a space that was probably one-quarter the size of his dorm room back at the convent. Its shelves were lined from top to bottom with jars. He tried not to look too closely at any of them after noticing that one contained chicken feet suspended in brown goo—it was disgusting.
The shop’s owner was there behind the counter and wasted no time helping him.
“Ah, pimple-face!” she said, pointing at the blemishes.
Jonah sighed. You too? He put his hand up to cover his face out of instinct. “I was wondering if you might have something that could help me, you know . . . with these.”
She hopped up from her stool and found her glasses. Grabbing a small wooden ladder, she peered upward until she spotted the right jar.
“There it is,” she murmured, putting the ladder carefully against the shelf and climbing up. She came back down with a small brown jar in her hand.
When she opened it, the smell slapped Jonah in the face like a fly swatter. He backed up, the awful smell filling the room. He glanced at the door, feeling like he was about to gag. Apparently, however, the lady was immune to the scent.
She took a pair of chopsticks and pulled out something slimy and flat, placing it in her hand. Jonah held his nose but stepped forward, peering down in horror at the triangular, skin-like object.
She held it up toward his forehead. He pulled away again.
“No, no!” she said. “You must do this! Make it better.”
You asked for this, Jonah, he said to himself, closing his eyes and leaning down.
She ripped off a piece of tape from beside the register, and whatever it was, he felt her taping it to his forehead.
“There! Now it get better,” she said, leaning back and admiring her work. She had taped the mystery item to his head. He was beginning to feel light-headed. “You leave on for rest of day, and bad pimples disappear. You see.”
Jonah reached upward to touch it.
“No, no!” she said, grabbing his arm. “You no touch! Leave, okay?”
Jonah relented. “Okay,” he mumbled. “What exactly is it?”
She was returning the jar to the shelf. “Baby hog ear,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Soaked in black ink of giant squid. Very rare.”
That alone was enough to make him almost lose his breakfast on the shop floor. But he willed himself to leave it on. I’ll just avoid everyone for the rest of the day, and then this thing will be gone.
He paid the woman and left the shop, stopping for a minute to study his reflection in a shop window. It pretty much looked like he expected—a pig ear taped to his head.
Jonah felt the stares of people on the street, but he kept telling himself that it would all be worth it if the hog ear worked. He rode the subway with his head hanging down, trying to pull his hair over the pig ear. Soon after he sat down, though, several people had covered their noses and moved to other places in the car.
Jonah, on the other hand, was starting to get used to the fumes. It’s not so bad, he kept repeating to himself.
He exited the subway as fast as he could and headed up the steps to street level. Just as he was climbing up, though, another group of kids was coming down.
“Jonah?”
Jonah glanced up and found himself face-to-face with Rupert, on the landing in the middle of the flight of steps. He was with Andre, Frederick, Hai Ling, and Bridget, one of the Austailian quarterlings.
“What’s that on your forehead, Jonah?” Andre asked, staring at the pig ear.
Jonah looked down, pulling his hair over his forehead again. “Nothing. Just . . . a bandage.”
All of them leaned in closer, backing him into a corner as they studied it.
“Ew!” Hai Ling said, stepping away as she held her nose. “What is that smell? Is that . . . you, Jonah?”
“I’m not sure,” Frederick said, holding his nose as he studied Jonah’s head, “but it appears to be some kind of . . . animal part. Jonah?”
Jonah pushed him out of the way and took the steps two at a time. “Leave me alone, all right?!”
He got out of there as quickly as he could, but not before he heard their cackling laughter chasing him down the street.
When he finally took off the baby hog ear, after wearing it the rest of the day and hiding in his room, the zit actually seemed worse.
“It didn’t work,” he muttered, staring into the mirror.
He showered three times, just to be sure he got rid of the smell, and joined the others for dinner.
After they had eaten huge plates of steaming fried chicken and mashed potatoes, Camilla strode through the door, her enormous silver wings sparkling, and Jonah was immediately grateful for the distraction from his forehead. At her side was another angel, one he had never seen before. He was taller than her, with a chiseled face and long blond hair that fell below his shoulders. When he moved, his red cloak shifted back and forth, like flames in a fire.
Camilla was speaking to him in hushed tones. Jonah strained to hear what they were saying, but he couldn’t make anything out. The angel nodded a few times, let his eyes dance around the room for a few minutes, and then walked back out, with Camilla following close behind.
“Who do you think that was with Camilla?” asked Julia as they began to turn their attention back to their meal again. “He looked kind of important.”
Eliza pulled out a huge book that had been sitting in the chair next to her. The leather binding was cracked and weathered. She set it down on the table, dust flying off the ancient tome.
Jonah grew curious and walked over, standing behind her chair. He studied the cover and the scrolled printing on it.
“Mortimer’s Guide to Angelic Creatures,” Jonah read. “Wow, Eliza. Where did you get that book?”
She glanced up at him through her glasses. “From the library downstairs, of course. Where else do you think I’d find something like this? Barnes & Noble?”
Eliza opened the book and began to talk faster. “I took it back to my room last night and have been studying it a little bit. I was going to return it this morning. It’s fascinating reading. This Mortimer guy is an angel himself, according to the author bio here. He wrote this book about all of the famous angels Elohim created.”
She fingered the second page in, containing a description of the angel and a picture, which almost looked three-dimensional. An angel sat in a chair, wings spread behind him. He was holding a book in one hand and a writing instrument in the other. The description read:
Mortimer, servant of the most high God, created by Him and for His pleasure, serving under His will and direction, forever. It is my great honor to record these pictures and short biographies of those who have been made to serve Him and be enjoyed by Him. The following are short summaries of the more notable b
eings in the angelic realm. While every angel is important, these are those who have played prominent roles in the history of humankind. To Elohim be glory forever and ever!
“He reminds me of Samuel,” Jonah said, studying his picture. Their instructor for Biblical Studies was a brilliant angel who made the material come alive, more than any teacher Jonah had ever been around. “I wonder if they know each other.”
Eliza began flipping through the old pages of the book. “I recognized that angel with Camilla from thumbing through the pages last night,” she said. The others had gathered behind her, watching and pointing at each page.
“Here we go! I knew I’d seen him somewhere before,” she said, the pitch of her voice rising higher. She pressed down the page and held the book so they could all see.
Jonah peered over her shoulder, leaning down closely to see the lifelike image of the angel they had just seen. He stood with his hands on his hips, looking out with almost a glare, his hazel eyes seeming to point right at his. A golden angelblade was secured at his waist.
Above the picture was a set of words Jonah couldn’t recognize, written in Angelic. Below that was written:
Human approximation: Nathaniel
Eliza scanned the three paragraphs written about him. “Looks like he is a colonel for the Second Battalion of Angelic Forces of the West . . . He has a long list of accomplishments in battle . . . several ‘Golden Wing’ awards, apparently that’s for exceptional bravery . . . It basically says he is one of Michael’s right-hand men. In charge of training . . .” Her voice trailed off as she chewed on these new facts.
“Wonder what he’s doing here?” Rupert asked. “Maybe he’s going to be a new instructor. Think we’re going to have another class now? We already have Angelic Combat, Scriptural Studies, and the Spiritual Arts . . . I couldn’t stand having to learn a new subject.”
Eliza shook her head. “No, I don’t think he’s here to be a new teacher, Rupert. Judging from his profile, that doesn’t seem to be his style.”
They threw around a few more ideas, but nothing seemed to stick. Jonah stood up straight again, looking back at the door. “Well, something tells me that we’re going to find out why he’s here pretty soon.”
Hai Ling, who had been leaning against the wall and chewing on a fingernail while observing all of them quietly, spoke up. “Is that Prophet Jonah speaking, or just a hunch?”
Jonah was about to respond with a comeback of his own when, thankfully, Taryn popped her head into the room.
“We thought now would be a good opportunity for you to spend some time catching up with your parents before classes,” she announced. “Join me outside on the sidewalk, and you will be able to speak to them via Angelic Vortex.”
It had been a while since Jonah had spoken with his mom and dad, and like the rest, he was excited to hear from them. Maybe his mom would even have a suggestion for his skin.
A group of warrior angels was waiting for them outside. Taryn joined the Stone kids, and they huddled together close to the building. She raised her arms, and soon a tornado was swirling around them. It looked like the ones Jonah had seen on television in Kansas, except that it was perfectly quiet and didn’t destroy anything.
An image of Benjamin and Eleanor Stone appeared in front of them, along the inside wall of the vortex.
They greeted their parents. “Hi, kids!” Benjamin said, waving at them, a huge smile on his bearded face. “It’s so good to see you.”
“Jonah, Eliza, Jeremiah,” Eleanor said. “How are you doing? We miss you so much.”
Jeremiah began to rapidly fill them in on all the happenings at school and in the convent. They listened as closely as they could, but soon their mom began to rub the side of her head. She leaned over to the side, out of their view, and coughed.
Eliza picked up on it immediately. “Are you doing okay, Mom? You don’t look so good.”
Eleanor spent several seconds trying to clear her throat. “Yes, I’m fine, dear,” she said. “Just haven’t been feeling all that well lately. Half of the congregation has this nasty cold going around.”
Benjamin patted her on the back. “She’s in good hands here,” he said. “So, Jonah and Eliza, how are things with Angel School?”
After another few minutes, Taryn cleared her throat. “It’s time to go,” said Taryn. And before Jonah could ask them if they had any suggestions for his pimples, they were gone, the vortex disintegrating around them with one final rush of air.
“Mom didn’t look too good,” Eliza commented to Jonah as they watched the others finish their conversations. “Kind of pale.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” said Jonah. “I’m sure Dad is taking good care of her.”
Frederick walked past them toward the convent doors. “Where’s the thing on your face, Jonah? What was it, like, a pig ear or something?”
He laughed as he kept walking.
“What’s he talking about?” Eliza said, hands on her hips.
Jonah turned to go. “Nothing.”
After Angel School, all of the quarterlings gathered back in the main reading room of the library for some final words from Camilla. Before class had begun, she had said there would be a special announcement tonight. There were whispers in the hallway between the students.
“What do you think this is all about?”
“Maybe someone is getting a new angelic power!”
“I hope we’re getting a new place to stay. Our rooms are horribly small.”
Jonah didn’t think it was either of those things, though. Camilla stood before them, and then another angel walked out from the shadows.
“Friends, we have a special guest with us today,” she said. “I want you to meet one of the commanders of the Second Battalion of the Angelic Forces of the West. He is a lieutenant colonel. You may call him Nathaniel.”
A blond-haired angel stood in front of them as if he were chiseled out of granite and nodded at them without smiling. “I am here as an official representative of the Archangel Michael himself,” he said, stepping forward and looking each of the quarterlings in the eye. “Sent here to observe, encourage, and provide guidance when necessary.”
“Observe what?” Eliza whispered to Jonah. He shushed her.
Camilla stepped forward. “Nathaniel is here to observe your upcoming midterm examinations. These will be practical examinations to see how you use the skills you’ve been taught outside of the classroom. After all, it’s one thing to answer a question or complete a task in here, and quite another to do it in a real-life, dangerous situation.”
“And what is more,” Nathaniel added, with a dramatic pause, “while I will be there for every test, the Archangel Michael himself will be present for final practical.”
QUESTIONS
Jonah looked over at Eliza, who raised her eyebrows at him. Then to David on his left, who beamed at him with anticipation. That was no surprise. Studious Eliza and David had probably both been itching for some tests for months.
Camilla stepped in. “Your midterm examinations will consist of a written portion, a skills examination, and conclude with a battle simulation.”
Jonah eyed Eliza, nodding in approval, no doubt about the written exam. He wasn’t so sure about that, but he liked the sound of the other two parts of the test.
“Now listen,” Nathaniel spoke up, “these exercises are not simply for fun or because we have nothing else to do. They will be designed to test you, to push you to extremes, and even to simulate situations you very likely will encounter with the Fallen.” He eyed them carefully before continuing. “You will be pushed to your limits, then beyond. Not only with your mental and physical skills, but within your soul as well. Make no mistake: you will experience all of your human emotions—especially fear.”
Jonah couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by that.
“Just know that everything that happens is with one goal in mind: to make you a better quarterling.”
Nathaniel nodded to the student
s, bowed low to Camilla, and strode out of the room.
The quarterlings bombarded Camilla with a thousand questions. When will it start? What should we be prepared for? Hai Ling asked what they were supposed to wear.
Camilla tried to respond to as many of their questions as she could.
“The exams begin in one week. The written portion will take place right here. As for the skills exam and the final battle, they will be held in undisclosed locations. We want you to be prepared to fight in any sort of place, so we won’t be telling you beforehand. You’ll just have to adapt as you go. Let me just say I think you will find these events both inspiring and challenging.”
The questions kept coming. Finally, Camilla put her hands up and said loudly, “All right, all right! My goodness, you are an inquisitive bunch for after midnight! But enough questions for now. It is time for you to be dismissed, to head back to the convent, and to have a good night’s rest. Tomorrow we will begin our preparations in earnest.”
They walked back in the hidden realm, but instead of their usual cautious steps, the quarterlings were rowdy, their energy feeding off the exciting news.
Jonah pressed along in silence, unlike the others. He had a lot on his mind. He felt a twinge of excitement and nerves about the exams, like the rest. But as he touched his face again, he felt yet another bump beginning to rise on his cheek. His skin really was beginning to look like a slice of pepperoni pizza!
He felt a nudge on his arm. “You okay?”
Julia’s face shone up at him in the shadows of the street. He felt himself raise his hand up across his cheek to try to cover his pimpled skin from her view. He pretended to scratch his face as they walked along.
“Yeah,” Jonah said. “I guess so.”
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” she said. “Covering your cheek with your hand. I think your face looks just fine.”
He lowered his hand slowly, feeling flushed, and grateful that it was dark. Her eyes lingered on his cheek, though. He could feel her stare.