Confronting the Fallen

by J. J. Thompson

  Chris looked around. The side of the house was lit by a large light high up near the roof and he could see a vast lawn spread out in the distance. The high wall stretched out until it faded into pools of light off in the distance. The smell of cut grass was stronger here and he took in a deep breath, enjoying the sweetness.

  As he stood there, Chris saw, far off on the shadowy lawn, several of the dogs loping slowly into the darkness. The sight made him shiver for some reason. Maybe it was simply the strangeness of everything. Here he was, standing on the grounds of what he knew was a mansion, patrolled by serious-looking people and a pack of giant dogs. It was surrounded on all sides by a high wall and filled with both adults and teens, all of whom seemed to be involved with something to do with angels. He shook his head. Put that way, the entire thing sounded insane.

  What exactly do they need all this protection for? Is it just for defense against groups like Talon? Are they really that bad? And why would Talon even care about Judge Hawkes and his people anyway? Chris sighed again. Too many questions and too few answers.

  Patience, Chris, he thought. You've made it this far in life because of patience. And thinking things through. So, let's just wait and see.

  He turned and began to walk back toward the front door, suddenly very tired. He decided to sleep on it and wait to see what would happen while he was here.

  Chapter 8

  Over the next few weeks, Chris got to know the house and its inhabitants very well. He got lost several times for the first few days, but eventually figured out where everything was and could make his way through the maze of hallways and staircases with minimal effort. When he wasn't in the library discussing ancient civilizations with Mrs. Stiles, he was in the games room playing video games alone or with several of his fellow teens. Sometimes he would spend hours in a small lounge he'd discovered that had a television and a few armchairs; just curled up and flicking through the channels. Chris had had very few chances to watch TV in the last few years and enjoyed the luxury of channel surfing to his heart's content.

  It became a routine for him to go out for a walk on the grounds every night around eight o'clock. Eliza and the dogs seemed to know when he would appear and greeted him as he left the building. Mr. McKenna and Chris would spend some time talking about the dogs and about other animals that the man had trained over the years. It turned out that Mr. McKenna had worked in a zoo when he was younger and Chris was fascinated by the man's stories of dealing with wild animals like lions and elephants.

  Chris ran into several other young people on his nightly walks as well. Just like Tyler, they were dressed in long, loose-fitting leather jackets with a hood pulled up over their heads and, like Tyler, they wouldn't explain what they were doing. Just 'patrolling' was the standard answer Chris would get when he asked. It was frustrating.

  It was even more frustrating for Chris because Tyler refused to say anything about it even when they were in the games room without any adults around.

  “Sorry, Chris. It's confidential,” was all Tyler said. Jacob was there too and nodded seriously, while saying nothing. Finally, Chris gave up.

  “Fine. Keep your secrets,” he'd said grumpily.

  “You know, Chris,” Tyler said as he looked at Chris thoughtfully. “If you'd just join us, you'd know all of this stuff.”

  Chris shook his head. “I'm not convinced yet,” he said stubbornly.

  “Convinced?” Jacob seemed baffled. “Convinced of what? That we're not bad guys? That the judge isn't some sort of freak? What exactly do you need to be convinced of, Chris?”

  “Yeah, man,” Tyler said. “What are you waiting for anyway? I mean, I'm sure it's nice to sit around all day; reading, watching TV, playing games. But how long is it going to take for you to figure out that what you see here is what you get?”

  Chris thought he heard an edge of resentment in Tyler's voice. Does he think I'm just lazy? He glared at the other two.

  “You think it's easy to trust strangers? After all I've seen and done? Well, it isn't. And until I do, I'm not committing myself to anything.” And he folded his arms and stared at Tyler coldly.

  “Not easy to trust strangers?” Tyler repeated. “Why not? We trust you. You're our friend. Maybe in time you'll realize that we're your friends too.”

  He stood up without another word and left. Jacob looked at Chris, shrugged and followed Tyler out of the room.

  Chris watched them go, a feeling of guilt burning in the pit of his stomach. Friends. It's been a long time since I had real friends. Oh, there was South-side Lou and Big Danny and Crazy Mary. But they weren't friends. Just other street kids, watching each others backs because there was safety in numbers.

  At the end of his second week in the Nest, Chris wandered into the kitchen after his evening stroll. Chef was there, baking bread for the next day's breakfast and halving grapefruit and sprinkling the halves with sugar. He smiled at Chris as he walked in.

  “And here is my favorite resident! Welcome, Chris. What can I do for you tonight? Hungry?”

  Chris smiled at the man. He had become very fond of the cook and chatted with him at every opportunity. “No thanks, Chef,” he said. “I was just...I dunno. Looking for someone to talk to, I guess.”

  Chef waved Chris to a seat and offered him a glass of grape juice, his favorite. Then the man wiped his hands on his apron, took a seat next to Chris and looked at him fondly.

  “I always have time to talk to you, Chris.” He became serious. “If you need a friendly ear, I'm happy to listen.”

  Chris nodded and gathered his thoughts. “Well, Chef, it's like this. I've been here a couple of weeks or so, as a guest of Judge Hawkes. I'm clean, safe, well-fed,” he grinned slyly at the man, who chuckled appreciatively, “and rested. But I can't stay here forever. I know that. Everywhere around me, the guys and girls my age are going to class, doing homework, doing stuff for the judge that I don't even understand. But they're busy. They have a purpose. Me? I think they see me as a, I dunno, a tourist? A slacker? Someone who's wasting his time here, I guess.”

  Chef was listening attentively but when Chris hesitated, he just motioned for him to continue.

  “The thing is, I’m not like that. Honest. I like to study, to read. I even liked school back before, well, back in the day. But I just can’t get past what the judge told me. About the reason that everyone is here.” He looked intently at Chef. “You know, right?”

  “I know about the angelic souls, Chris. Indeed I do,” Chef replied quietly.

  “Exactly. So what am I supposed to make of that? I'm no angel. I've seen things and I've, I've done things over the last couple of years that prove that. If the judge thinks I'm angelic...” He just stopped talking and shrugged. Chef nodded his understanding.

  “I know what you are saying, Chris. And what you are feeling. Truly.” He sat quiet for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. “Did you know that I lived on the street for a time, many years ago?”

  “You?” Chris stared at the man in surprise.

  “Me. Yes. Back in Palermo, when I was very young. I ran away when I was fifteen. Wanted to see the world, experience new things.” Chef chuckled. “What I really wanted was to get out from under my father's thumb. He was very strict and I was tired of all his rules. So I left our farm and headed for the big city with only a few clothes in a bag and some big dreams.” The man frowned as he remembered. “It was very hard, as I'm sure you know. But unlike you, I had a place to return to.” Chef's frown was replaced by a grin. “And after a month or so, I made my way back home, tail between my legs. All I had to show for my independence were a few scars and some unpleasant memories.” He reached out and patted Chris lightly on the shoulder. “But I saw enough, Chris. Enough to know that you have had a hard time. I have no way to convince you to put aside your suspicions. But, let me ask you something. Do you trust me?”

  Chris was startled by the question but answered immediately. “Yes, of course I do. Absolutely.”

&n
bsp; “Ah, thank you for that. So, you trust me. And I trust Judge Hawkes. Then doesn't it follow that you can trust him too?”

  Chris sat back and tried to work that out in his head. If you trust someone who trusts someone else, can you trust that other person too? Hmm. He glanced at Chef who just winked. Chris sighed. Yeah, I trust Chef. He just...feels trustworthy somehow. And I sort of trust the judge. So...

  He suddenly laughed and Chef joined him. “Ah, your face as you were working that out, Chris. Priceless.”

  Chris chuckled. “It probably looked painful. Yeah, okay Chef. You got me. How can I trust you and not the judge?” Chris felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. “So what now? Do I just tell him that I want to join or what?”

  “No, no, Chris. Slow is best,” Chef said quickly. “Before you make that decision, I suggest you first take the test. After that, you will know enough to decide, one way or the other.”

  “Yeah, the test.” Chris finished his juice and took a deep breath, enjoying the smell of baking bread. Maybe I am hungry, he thought. “What is that all about anyway? No one will tell me.”

  As though he had read Chris' mind, Chef got up and cut a huge slice off of a fresh loaf of bread. He buttered it, slathered on a large portion of strawberry jam, walked back and handed it to Chris with a smile. He also refilled Chris' glass.

  “The test isn't spoken of, Chris,” Chef said as he sat down again. “Not because it's a huge secret, but because it is different for each person.”

  Chris bit into the bread and jam. It was delicious. “So you really can't tell me anything about it?” he asked as he swallowed.

  The man grinned mischievously. “Well, I can tell you that no one fails. It isn't that kind of test. It's more about you and your, how can I put this...your inner self, than it is about skills or knowledge. Just do your best, Chris and you will be fine.”

  Chris finished his snack, emptied his glass and thanked Chef for his time.

  “It was my pleasure, Chris. Any time you need to bend my ear, feel free.” The man got up and went back to kneading his bread dough. “Have a good sleep.”

  “Thanks Chef. Good night.”

  Chris headed off to his room, thinking hard. At least he had come to a decision, finally. He'd talk to Judge Hawkes as soon as possible and take that stupid test. Maybe then, Tyler and Jacob would be able to talk to him more openly. And maybe I'll finally feel like I belong somewhere, he thought hopefully.

  The next morning, Chris waited until after breakfast to speak to Martin as he was leaving the dining room. But when he asked for an appointment with the judge, Martin had some bad news.

  “I'm sorry, Mr. Wright,” Martin said. “But Judge Hawkes is away for a few days.” He pulled out his cell and punched in some numbers. “Yes. I believe he's scheduled to return on Thursday.” He looked at Chris. “I will certainly inform him of your request and I'm sure he'll add you to his list of appointments when he can.” Obviously reacting to Chris's look of disappointment, he smiled ruefully. “The judge is very busy these days, I'm afraid. Is it urgent or can it wait the three days?”

  “No, it's not urgent, Martin,” Chris said. He mentally kicked himself for thinking that the judge would be available whenever he needed to speak to him. “I can wait. No problem.”

  “Ah, good. I'll see that he is informed.” Martin nodded and headed off down the hallway.

  Chris watched the man walk off. Great, he thought. Here I am, all ready to take this stupid test, whatever it is, and the judge is away! Oh well. I guess I can wait a few more days. He was about to head off to the library when Chris heard his name called. It was Tyler and Jacob.

  “Hey Chris,” Tyler said with a grin. “Want to play a few games? Jake and I have the morning off today. Apparently our calculus teacher, Rabbi Neuman, is off for a few days.” He looked around and lowered his voice. “Rumor is, he took off with Judge Hawkes on some sort of mission, so we're free every morning for a while.” Jacob was grinning widely.

  “Sure guys, sounds great.” As he set off for the games room with his friends, Chris asked about this so-called mission.

  “No idea what it's about, Chris,” Jacob spoke up as they walked through the halls. He was keeping his voice down. “All I know is, when the judge takes a cleric with him, it's probably something dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?” Chris stared at Jacob incredulously. “Why would he need a rabbi for something like that?”

  Tyler gave Jacob a sharp poke. “We aren't supposed to talk about stuff like that!”

  Jacob stumbled and glared at his friend. “Ow! Knock it off, Ty. Aren't you the one that told Chris we trusted him the other day? So what's your problem now?”

  Under Jacob's accusatory stare, Tyler reddened and looked at Chris. “Sorry, Chris. Jake's right, of course. It's just that I don't want to get any of us in trouble. And around here,” he glanced up and down the empty hallway and lowered his voice, “the walls have ears.”

  Chris leaned against the wall. He could smell the pine scent rising from the wooden floor. I wonder if they use some sort of wood oil to clean it? The smell was faintly comforting for some reason.

  “What do you mean by that, Ty? The walls have ears?”

  Tyler looked at Jacob and back at Chris. “I mean that there are very few secrets around here, Chris. But the few that there are, well, the adults take them seriously. The three of us would be in for it if they found out we'd told you anything.”

  Jacob rolled his eyes but nodded when Chris looked at him enquiringly. “Ty's right, Chris. I hate to admit it, but he is. We want to tell you everything, but...”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. Secrets.” Chris shrugged. “Well, once the judge gets back, maybe then we can talk about it.” He looked between the two of them and grinned. “I've decided to take the stupid test, whatever it is.”

  Both of Chris' friends looked surprised and then smiled widely.

  “Excellent!” Jacob exclaimed.

  “Awesome, Chris,” Tyler added. “But what changed your mind?”

  “Nothing really. I had a talk with Chef. He trusts the judge and I trust him so, it just kind of made sense.”

  “I'm really glad, Chris,” Jacob said, sounding relieved. “I hate this pussyfooting around when we talk. Once you take the test, even if you decide this place isn't for you, at least we can talk openly.”

  “Agreed, Jake,” Tyler said. “So, any idea when you can take the test?”

  Chris grimaced. “That's the problem. The judge is away, like you guys said, and Martin said I have to wait till he gets back to talk to him. Maybe three days? I guess I can be patient for a little while longer.”

  Tyler punched Chris lightly on the arm. “Well, at least you get three more days of leisure before you have to join the rest of us running around following a schedule.”

  The three teens laughed and continued on to the games room.

  Chapter 9

  The next three days passed painfully slowly for Chris. Now that he had decided to take the mysterious test, he was eager to get it over with. But he had learned at lot about patience when he was living on his own and he did his best to stay distracted and not count the hours until the judge returned.

  On the morning of the third day, Martin approached Chris while he was eating breakfast with Tyler and Jacob. He gave him the welcome news.

  “Good morning, gentlemen,” Martin greeted them. “Mr. Wright, I wanted to let you know that Judge Hawkes returned late last night. He's agreed to see you at ten this morning.” He looked seriously at Chris. “It's been a hard trip for the judge so please, be punctual. His schedule is backed up and you're fortunate that he was able to squeeze you in so quickly.”

  Chris thanked Martin gratefully. When he had left, Chris turned to his friends.

  “Finally! This waiting has been making me crazy.”

  “Yeah, we noticed,” Tyler said with a grin. Then he sighed. “That probably means that class is back on this morning. C'mon, Jake. L
et's put the dishes away and go and see.”

  Looking dejected, Jacob wished Chris luck and the two headed off. Chris was left alone to finish his breakfast and think some more about the test and, something that made him even more curious, where the judge had been for the past few days. And why he'd needed a rabbi with him.

  Chris lingered in the library after breakfast until it was time to head to the judge's office. He was surprised at how nervous he suddenly felt. The butterflies were definitely playing games in his stomach as he approached the office door.

  Chris knocked and waited until he heard the call to come in before opening the door. As he entered, Martin was again with the judge, but left with a smile as Chris went to sit down in front of the desk. He waited until he heard the door close before looking at the judge.

  Judge Hawkes looked much the same as usual, but Chris thought he detected a hint of dark circles under the man's eyes and his skin was a bit pale. But he smiled as Chris caught his eye and leaned away from his desk.

  “Good morning, Mr. Wright,” he said in a friendly tone. His voice was as strong as ever.

  “Good morning, sir,” Chris answered. “How was your trip?”

  The man grimaced slightly. “Taxing, my boy. Very taxing. Maybe we'll speak of it later, but for now, Martin informed me that you had an important matter to discuss.”

  “Yes sir.” Chris hesitated. This was it. Time to jump in with both feet. “I've decided to take the test. That is, if I'm still allowed to.”

  He held his breath as Judge Hawkes stared at him with obvious surprise. Then the man smiled widely.

  “Allowed to? But of course you're allowed to. This is wonderful news, Mr. Wright. I'm very pleased with your decision.” He leaned forward and stared at Chris intently. “If I might ask; what exactly made you change your mind?”

  Chris shook his head. “I didn't change my mind, sir. I came to a decision. And I guess you can thank Chef for it, at least partly.”