The Angels' Mirror Pack 2: Books Four through Seven

by Harmony L. Courtney

  How could he explain to her what he was feeling?

  What he was thinking?

  “It’s like… it’s like this horrifying thread of silence has come between us… a thread thin as a veil to keep us apart. Thin as a whisper in the night… but I want to hear the scream; I want the thread to weave itself back into the cloth of my life and show me what is happening, and it just… doesn’t. It never becomes part of the warp and weft of the day… every day, I think that it might, and every day, it remains sitting just outside the bounds of the whole.”

  “Peter,” Lily asked, looking over at him.

  “Peter, do you think we’ll see her… ever? Do you really think she and I might meet one day and… be able to share what we know and love about you? That Rose will ever be… that we’ll get to…?.”

  There were tears coming to her own question-filled eyes now, and she flushed as her words ran dry.

  More questions than he had answers to, and more than she’d expressed, dwelled between them in the moment, and he could think of nothing but to comfort her.

  He brought her hands up now to kiss them, one at a time, before kissing her gently on the forehead, pulling her even closer still.

  “I’m sorry,” he told her. “This is our wedding day, and I feel like I’ve ruined it with my thoughts. Let’s think on what we have to look forward to together, rather than what we don’t have. What we have is each other, and come what may, that’s what we’ve got. I’m thankful God brought us together… more than I have words to say.”

  “Hello, is anyone there,” he heard as someone knocked on the door. For a moment, he remained still, and then he went to answer it… he knew a few people might show up, but were they really here this early?

  “Peter, are you in there,” he heard again as he opened the door.

  Steven and Shannen, looking like she was about to pop like a balloon, were standing in the doorway.

  He ushered them inside quickly and helped his sister-in-law into the sole chair in the room… a dark blue and white striped one that matched the couch. Steven stayed at her side, standing, while Peter sat down again next to his bride.

  “We just wanted to stop in to congratulate you two, again, on…,” Steven began as someone else knocked on the door.

  Within ten minutes, Steven, Michael, and their wives – as well as Shalom and Jerusha Schwartz – were in the little living room with them celebrating. Jerusha had baked and brought a cake with her, and was slicing it up when there was yet someone else at the door.

  The laughter in the room stopped and everyone looked at him.

  “Were you expecting anyone else,” Steven asked him, his eyes wide and questioning.

  Peter shook his head, and, adjusting his glasses, slowly made his way to the door once more.

  “Who is it,” he called gently, placing a hand on the doorknob.

  “Liraz,” he heard. “Liraz Schwartz.”

  Steven huffed as he carried Liraz’s suitcases and followed Shannen up the stairs to their apartment, thankful the woman had finally consented to at least a trial run in the city.

  “Not much further,” he said, pausing a moment at the second landing, glad the party had been short so he still had energy to help out. “Just one more flight, and we’re a few doors down the hall.”

  “I have never been used to stairs, Steven,” he heard Liraz saying behind him as he began the ascent to the third floor. “Snow shoes, yes… hard work in the kitchen, or even as a child, in my Vater’s little barn, yes, but stairs? I am not used to stairs. We had three at home, remember, Shannen… not three sets. Your Vater hated stairs… bothered his knee.”

  Steven readjusted the suitcases as he thought back to the time he’d had getting to know Abishua Schwartz. The man had been a true godsend in times of great trial and confusion for he and his brothers, and gratitude would never cover the feelings he held toward the man, God rest his soul.

  “We’re here,” Shannen said, pulling her keys out.

  “And yes, Imma, I remember. I heard about Vater’s knees every night that he came to say prayers with me. I would get down on my own, and he would sit down in the rocking chair next to me, hold my hand, and say, “oy, you know, Shannen, one of these days, my knees will keep me from getting back up if I don’t start taking better care of them,” which, of course, he never did. Not in the winter, when he shoveled the snow; not in the summer, when he gardened. Only at night, when we said prayers.”

  She quickly opened the lock, her belly grazing the door as she did so. Steven waited for Liraz to pass him, and then followed behind with the suitcases, thankful he’d be able to put them down soon.

  “Your Vater had many responsibilities; and he was on his knees in the tabernacle, and at church. He was on his knees in the garden, and when we prayed for you and your brother every single night of the time we had him with us,” Liraz said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  The woman’s dark hair had begun to whiten, and her once-lithe figure had softened over the years, but she was still beautiful. She had been, as long as Steven had known her, and in the photos he’d seen from her youth.

  Would Shannen look like her as she grew older?

  If so, then Steven had no qualms as to whether or not he would still find her attractive.

  “Why don’t I find a place to store your things until we have a place for you to sleep tonight,” he told the older woman.

  “Put them in our room, Steven. At least for tonight, I want Imma in our room. We can… we can make up the couch for ourselves this once, can’t we?”

  He tried to picture his beautiful, round-bellied wife tossing and turning on the less than comfortable pullout bed, and shuddered.

  No. Not an option.

  “Why don’t I stay on the couch, and you and Imma stay in our room… at least until we get something else figured out,” he said, setting the cases down just inside the bedroom door.

  Though he cringed at the thought of making do on the sofa, at least he wouldn’t have to pull it out for just himself. And maybe it would help ease the change for Liraz and Shannen both during the first few days.

  He tried to calculate how much it would take to get another little bed inside, aside from the crib that would be needed. “I think Liraz will need to share her room with the baby, at least unless we figure something else out,” he said, turning to gather clothes to sleep in from the bureau.

  “Sleep in the baby’s room? Steven, you cannot be serious… I’m just an old woman. What good will I do for a baby?”

  “Imma!”

  “I mean it, Shannen. What good will I be here? Of what help? I haven’t been near a baby in…” she paused a moment. “I haven’t been around a baby, other than your brother’s, in over five years!”

  “We’ll work it out,” Steven said, trying to sound reassuring in spite of the sweat he felt trickling between his shoulder blades at the thought of ever leaving his child – whether son or daughter – alone with someone not used to children any longer. “In time, we’ll all work it out. I’m sure of it.”

  Five

  Vancouver, Washington… January 26, 2020

  “Coming,” Edward called as he headed to the door, wiping a hand over his eyes and glancing down quickly at his attire, which, miraculously, looked halfway decent. He could only hope his hair had stayed in place, considering he was two weeks late getting it cut.

  It had already been a busy Sunday morning, and church hadn’t even started yet.

  The boys woke up with colds; Cherish was in a bad mood and he’d had to send her to her room; Paloma was taking her second shower of the day because their new kitten – who the kids had creatively dubbed Orchid Confetti Van Gogh… Confetti for short – had thrown up on her during breakfast.

  On top of that, he hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep the past three nights straight, and he hadn’t gotten much of anything prepared for this morning, so he’d had to call and ask around if someone else would lead for the day.

 
Thankfully, Me’chelle had accepted the challenge, and he was off the hook. But it hadn’t been the first time he’d been stressed to the point of unpreparedness. It seemed that, in the past year, it had occurred three times now, and he was far from overjoyed at the idea of coming across as unreliable.

  Hey… Edward thought, trying to cheer himself up. I might actually get to relax a bit for once. At least about church. I just wish everyone else wasn’t in such a foul mood or ill. Even the poor cat seems to be feeling stressed out by the environment.

  There had been no time to change the meeting to another house, but as long as the boys stayed put, things should be all right. Or so he hoped.

  Things had to be, didn’t they? There wasn’t really any other option.

  A strong wind swept the door towards him as he opened it, nearly knocking the bulk of it into him.

  “Welcome,” he told the first of their guests as he heard Paloma coming down the hallway toward them. “Come on in. So glad you could make it this morning.”

  As he continued greeting guests, he did his best to help Paloma in the kitchen as she finished the day’s preparations at quick-tempo.

  As more and more people began to arrive, a few of them trickled into his work area at the counter and offered to help. “I’ve got it,” he told the first three or four people who offered. But when Jason, Me’chelle, and their kids arrived, he gladly accepted his brother-in-law’s help.

  “I guess I’m more tired than I thought,” he confided to the man. “I haven’t felt this tired in years.”

  “Have you gone in for a checkup with your heart at all in the past few months,” Jason asked as he started slicing some vegetables for a tray.

  “This is starting to look like how you were when…. I mean, what I’m trying to say is that, when things turned for the worse before, it was because…”

  The silence hung between them on a thin thread, though everyone around them continued their conversations.

  Why didn’t I think about…? But this doesn’t feel like it’s the same thing; it’s so different. Can it really be doing all that much to my heart?

  “No, not yet… not about that, but I-”

  “Listen… as your brother in Christ, as your brother-in-law, as your boss, as your friend… call them in the morning,” Jason said, cutting him off abruptly. “Make them schedule something, and as soon as possible,” he continued, his pale blue eyes concentrating on the vegetables and blade in his hands.

  “I don’t care if we have a client meeting that day, take what they give you and make sure they do a thorough checkup. Not just your heart… everything. This isn’t like you, these migraines and now, running yourself to the point of being overtired without getting enough sleep. And even when you do sleep, you tell me you’re exhausted. What I don’t get is that it’s more often happening when you’re here at the house… so I’m telling you: call them. Seven, eight in the morning… whenever they open for the day. Call them,” Jason said as he kept right on slicing, as though nothing was wrong or strange about the whole conversation.

  He stopped a moment to sweep his dark hair from his eyes and looked at Edward pointedly.

  Finally consenting, Edward nodded his head in agreement, and then turned on a kettle of water. “Alright, I’ll make the call. I just… I hate to think what might happen if…”

  “No ifs today. No ifs,” Jason said as Eugenie walked toward them. “And no more discussion until time for prayer. Let’s not upset people; let’s get them active. We’ve seen prayer work, and we’ve seen miracles… I think it’s about time to call another one down from heaven… whatever’s going on.”

  “Hey, guys,” their friend said in greeting. “Pray about what?”

  The woman’s once waist-long hair was finally growing out again after a handful of years of keeping it rather short, and it was coming in a fair bit darker than the pale blonde Edward was used to seeing.

  At only 5’3,” she was considerably shorter than both he and Jason, and so when she came in for a hug, Edward bent his knees just a little to accommodate the gesture.

  “Are we ready to start,” he suddenly heard Fifine Noel Iglesias ask in her heavy Argentinian accent as she clapped her hands in her signature triple triplicates.

  “I think it would be a good time to begin prayer requests,” she continued, her voice quieting those who had been chatting. He glanced toward the living room to see her arms raised high above her short, lithe form and smiled to himself.

  When she wants to be, Mrs. Iglesias can sure be a powerhouse, he thought, pulling mugs from the cabinets and getting the tea basket out.

  When the water began to whistle, Eugenie turned it off and set it on a hot pad for people to get their own selections during the first part of prayer time. Soon after, Jason was able to set the vegetable tray nearby and Paloma had entered the kitchen as murmurs began, requests for prayer trickling in one at a time.

  The requests always came in slow at first, and then, as the group warmed up, more were added a few at a time until everyone was satisfied that all requests were in.

  Edward felt his brother-in-law’s hand on his shoulder as he began walking toward the group and found a chair.

  “I’ve got one,” Jason announced. “And it’s not for me; it’s for Edward. For his health.”

  Edward tried not to groan under his breath, but it escaped nonetheless.

  Why was he bringing this up here and now? Wouldn’t Jason at least give him until next week?

  “Not all of you know this, but our brother here had to have heart surgery back in 2013. His heart had grown too old; it had worn down, and sometimes people live a long time with new hearts… sometimes not,” Jason began.

  “But I’d like to ask that whatever is making him so tired and get all these migraines will be healed. I’ve told him he needs to get to the doctor, but we know an even more powerful Physician than any we’d need to pay to consult,” Jason said.

  The words rang in Edward’s ears, and he began to feel faint. A million tiny explosions gave way inside his head, and when he closed his eyes to ease them away, nausea overtook him. The stars became brighter, and moved like a kaleidoscope in hyper speed; uncontrollable fireworks with no end.

  He tried to speak, but nothing would come out of his mouth as he worked his jaw.

  Did anyone even notice, or were they so concentrated on hearing the details of Jason’s prayer request for him that they didn’t notice the calamity that was incapacitating him before their very eyes?

  “I’d like to ask that we seek God for answers so we will know exactly how to pray,” he heard Jason continue to say, the sound becoming muffled more and more with every passing word.

  “We want to be specific, as usual, but in this case, since we don’t know in the natural what is going on, we need to seek God’s face and ask Him how to best pray. He knows what’s happening, and He knows the solution,” his brother-in-law continued as the words now came louder and muddier to his ears.

  “There is a time, a season, and a purpose for everything… and I, for one, don’t believe Edward’s time is up,” Edward heard as his head began to pound. “I believe he is here for a specific purpose, and that hasn’t been fulfilled as yet. We must pray for life, and that more abundantly,” Jason continued as Edward began to feel himself fall.

  The stars intensified into a wildfire as he felt his knees and elbows hit the floor.

  He heard a gasp, and then… nothing.

  The next thing he knew, he was waking up in a hospital with a feeding tube down his throat and half a dozen wires attached to his arms. The bottom half of his arms and legs were stiff, and it felt like they’d been stayed to keep them from moving. He could see braces holding his elbows at a given angle where they lay atop his stomach.

  What happened, Lord, he prayed, his head still feeling like it was spinning. What happened? Why am I here? What’s the matter with me?

  Doing his best to look around without getting nauseous, he saw that Paloma w
as asleep next to him. Outside, all was darkness.

  How long had he been out, and where had he been taken? He didn’t recognize the hospital… at least not through the dizziness that still overwhelmed him.

  His memory came flooding back: Jason’s prayer request after telling him to call the doctor. A whirl of stars and lights, and seeing the carpet approaching his face as he crumpled in an upsurge of sudden pain. The crack of his knees against the floor; trying to break the fall with his elbows.

  Gently closing his eyes, he began to pray for answers. Within minutes, he was unconscious again, the pain in his head too unbearable to stay awake.

  Paloma watched as her husband fell to the floor in the midst of their time of prayer and praise requests, and her heart jumped into her throat as she lurched forward to try to catch him.

  Instead, he hit his head on Jason’s knee and kept crumpling down, down in what felt like slow motion until, finally, he hit the floor, startling Confetti, who had been sniffing about at people’s feet nearby.

  “Someone call an ambulance,” she heard her brother shout as the group simultaneously lunged forward or back, depending on proximity to where her husband lay bleeding on the deep green of the carpet.

  A few people volunteered to summarily pull away the chairs nearby and make sure the couch was all the way against the wall, making room for the paramedics, who arrived within what Me’chelle later told her had been ten minutes.

  Those ten minutes had felt like hours.

  Why is this happening, Lord, she prayed silently. Why do the boys have to be sick, and the cat have to be sick, and Cherish in a horrible mood, and Quentin Quimby wanting us dead, and now… now this, this… this horror?

  She began to shiver and shake as Me’chelle, Fifine Noel, and Eugenie pulled her away from Edward so that the paramedics could have enough room to bring in a stretcher and carry him away.