Archangel Crusader

by Vijaya Schartz

  *****

  The next afternoon, back from finishing a remodeling job, Michael dropped the blue beer cooler on the beige carpet. With a grimace, he removed the dirty band from his soaked forehead, then shook his long hair streaked by the sun with light golden tones. “Honey, I’m home!"

  Veronica, tall, lithe, auburn hair neatly pulled in a bun, came down the stairs, flashing a hurried smile.

  "Oh, hi, honey. I was just leaving." She gave him a quick kiss and checked the pink uniform in the full length mirror by the front door. "There's food in the Fridge. Are you hungry?"

  "Hardly... I'm thirsty, though."

  "I better hurry." As she gave him another peck on the lips, Michael tried to seize her waist, but she retreated. Green eyes sparkling, she said, "That'll have to wait. Work first, then play. Okay?" She blew a kiss and turned to leave but she faced him again, serious this time. "You look strange tonight. Anything wrong?"

  "No, I'm fine. A little tired, that's all... Run off or you'll be late."

  Veronica only smiled.

  Forcing a grin, Michael scratched his head. His timing always stunk. He watched the door close then sunk heavily onto the blue velvet sofa. Big hands explored the cushions. "Where's the damned thing? Jennifer! What did you do with the remote?" He found it and winced. It stuck to his fingers.

  "Hi, Dad, I thought I heard you." Jennifer came down the stairs bare-footed in a white T-shirt and purple shorts showing lanky legs. Her big green eyes lit up in a candid smile.

  "You watched TV again instead of doing your homework! You can't fool me, kid." Michael tried to look stern but couldn’t. Hell, how often did he do what he was supposed to? “Tell you what, I'll forgive you if you get me a cold beer..." As she stared but didn’t move, he added, “What are you waiting for?”

  Jennifer scurried to the kitchen while Michael turned on the news. When the refrigerator door opened with a thud, she called from the kitchen. "Can I have the last piece of cake? There's just a little bit left."

  "Uh? Oh hell, why not. Go for it, kid." If he could have his beer despite the harm it did to his brain, she could have chocolate cake.

  Jennifer returned from the kitchen, a plate in one hand and a can of Coors Lite in the other.

  Michael took the beer and popped the tab. He’d sworn never to drink again, so he’d only have one. “How was school today?"

  "Boring." Jennifer licked her fingers.

  "Oh, I wish I had a boring day at school." He looked at her plate. “Holy Moses! Are you going to eat all that? I thought you said a small piece?"

  "I can eat it all." No doubt she could when it came to chocolate.

  He gulped half the beer. "Give me a bite."

  "I thought you didn't like chocolate!"

  "Goes well with beer." He took a forkful. "Umm! Good stuff... Can I have another little piece before you finish it off?" He smiled mischievously before taking a huge bite.

  "Dad!" She looked offended. "That's a big piece!" But she laughed. He liked that about Jennifer. She held no grudges.

  He chewed with exaggerated gusto. "What can I say, I have a big mouth. And since you're up, go get me another beer." He turned his attention to the television screen and switched the channel. One more beer couldn’t hurt.

  Jennifer came back and handed him the beer. "Can I sit in your lap, Dad?"

  "You're getting a little heavy for that, kid, but how can I resist those beautiful eyes?" He treated her like a woman, always had. It made her feel important. That way she didn’t resent his girlfriends as much. There had been so many before Veronica, since his teenage wife and son died. Jennifer’s mother had been one of them...

  Jennifer jumped on his lap and spilled the beer.

  "Goddamn, girl! You have been doing that since you were four!" He brushed the wet couch. Was she doing it on purpose? She knew he always kept his beer on the right side. Even as a toddler, she would come straight at him and spill it. “Go get me another one."

  Jennifer hurried to the kitchen and came back handing him another can with an unsteady hand. "I'm sorry Dad. I didn't do it on purpose, I swear."

  "Yeah, yeah, I know. Come give me a hug." He kissed her on the forehead. “You know, if you become as pretty as your mom, with these big green eyes, I'm going to have to lock you up, or make you wear braces or something, before you turn thirteen."

  " Was she pretty, my mom? Why don't we have any pictures of her?"

  "Good question. I think Krystal burned them."

  "I never liked Krystal, and she sure didn't like me."

  "You never liked any of the women I brought home."

  "Veronica's okay... Do you think Penny is in heaven?"

  Michael braced himself. Why did kids always have to bring up painful memories? Little Penny...Krystal’s daughter, not his but close enough. He couldn’t stand children’s suffering. "I'm sure she is up there, Jen. Why do you ask?"

  "Kids at school... They say heaven doesn't exist." There was a short silence. "Penny would be eleven now... Why did she call you dad? You were not her dad."

  Michael smiled sadly. "No, but I was there for her, so I was kind of her dad since he wasn't around. I always wondered, were you jealous of Penny?"

  "A little bit, I guess." She closed her eyes, as if with guilt. “She always got everything she wanted."

  "That's true... But since she had cystic fibrosis, we knew she was going to die, so we tried to make her happy."

  "I know... She really loved you. Just before she died, you were the only one she wanted to see... Why?"

  "She knew I loved her too. She wanted me to die with her so she would not be alone up there."

  "Is that why you tried to kill yourself, Dad?"

  "I don't know, love... I really don't know." Why did kids ask the darnest questions? “But I know that if I'm here today, it's because of you. You're what's keeping me alive, like a guardian angel."

  Shadow the cat appeared in the hallway and jumped in his lap. Michael petted the big furry head.

  "Are you going out tonight, Dad?"

  Michael recognized the emotional blackmail. "I don't know. Maybe. Anyway, it's your bedtime."

  "Dad?"

  "What is it?"

  "My mother... You told me I looked like her... I know she was doing drugs and stuff, but you told me that when I was old enough to understand, I could see her. I think I'm old enough now. I would really like to see her."

  Michael wasn’t ready for the anger that swirled in his chest. He thought he’d dealt with it long ago, but he still resented the runaway junkie. "Damn! Girl, you never make it easy for your old dad, do you? I don't even know if she wants to see you..." Hell, he didn’t know if she was still alive.

  Jennifer frowned as if the thought of rejection had never occurred to her.

  Michael forced a reassuring smile. “But you’re right. Even though I still want you to be my little girl, you're probably responsible enough now." Jennifer was growing fast. “I’ll tell you what. We’ll make a deal. I'll call Dave and find out where she lives and how she's doing, if that’s so important to you."

  Jennifer broke into a radiant smile. "Oh, Dad... I thought you'd never let me see her. I always wonder about her. Thank you, Dad. I love you." She threw herself in his arms, scaring the cat away.

  “Wait a minute... I make no promises...but if she’s clean, I let you see her.”

  “That’s all I ask, Dad." There were tears in her eyes when Jennifer turned and started up the stairs.

  "Sweet dreams, honey. I love you," he called to her retreating back.

  "I never dream."

  "Sure you do, you just don't remember."

  "I love you too, Dad." Jennifer disappeared up the stairs.

  Now she wanted to see her mother, as if his life wasn't complicated enough! How long could he keep his family together without losing his mind? Deciding he had better stop drinking for the night, Michael went straight to bed and promptly fell asleep.

  Chapter Three

  The
crimson glow of the dying star bloodied the devastated landscape of the red planet. Underground, in the circular sanctum at the heart of the secret city, green flames crackled on the sacred stone in the center of the checkered floor, while the smoke released a bittersweet scent.

  In a quiet shuffle, hooded silhouettes in long silver capes filed in orderly ranks along the smooth white wall to their appointed places in the temple. In unison they struck an eerie tune, high-pitched and punctuated by hisses, rattles, shushes, and clucks.

  As the vibration of the shrill notes intensified, hollow claps paced the harmony of the chorus with dry consonance. In alien words, the chant spoke of Krastinios, son of Lufriec, who would soon fulfill the prophecy and open a new world for his people. An electronic gong reverberated, changing the tone of the unfamiliar music.

  Meanwhile, in a thick rain forest of Central America, concealed by the vines invading every crack of the venerable stones, the ruins of a long lost Mayan city stood among the songs of multicolored birds. There, lurked a threatening presence.

  Oblivious to the tropical stench of rotting vegetation, scaly patches of brown and black slithered up the collapsed steps of the truncated pyramid. The huge anaconda flicked its purple tongue and climbed with purpose, answering the call of the strange symphony. When it reached the sacrificial stone stained with ancient blood, the snake coiled up at its center, basking in a pool of sunlight. Content, the reptile then veiled its eyes.

  When the vibration escalated in intensity, the birds stopped singing. A chilly wind rose, blowing the vegetation away from the gigantic Mayan sculptures. Stone statues of plumed serpent-gods decorated the corners of the temple.

  While the alien chant gathered power, the anaconda smiled in its sleep. Black strands of hair unfolded, smoothed, lengthened and straightened at the head of the sleeping snake. As if obeying the same tide, the green forest cover receded further, revealing more and more of the Mayan architecture.

  The creature on the top platform uncoiled and thickened, changing shape. Extremities grew where there were none before. More swelling and bulging of skin and muscles occurred. Slowly, a roundish head formed under the length of jet hair. Protrusions and depressions appeared under the skin, sculpting brows, eye sockets, nose, lips, chin. Bones strengthened and lengthened. Hands and fingers grew out of human limbs. The scaly skin smoothed and warmed, taking on a healthy, tan glow.

  For a moment, a beautiful male body lay there, naked and clean. All the vegetation vacated the stone structure, and the man now lay peacefully in the morning sun while the chant praised the birth of Krastinios. As the man turned in his sleep, for an instant the reptile lingered, but it was only an image, a life-like tattoo occupying the whole back and muscular shoulders of the stranger. The snake seemed to breathe under the fluid skin.

  The naked man seemed to revel in the alien chant, as if it gave him pleasure. When he sat up, luminous brown eyes opened to the morning light and graceful hands felt the tight skin of his face. As the man looked down, a black garb of supple leather dressed his body.

  Krastinios tied the long shiny hair neatly into a ponytail, sprang up, looked at his hands with wonder, flexed long fingers, stretched lithe muscles, and smiled with satisfaction. He then started the descent of the pyramid's ninety one steps with the easy grace of a jaguar, a voluptuous bounce in his stride.

  The alien chant stopped abruptly.

  On the red planet, the ritual ended. In perfect order, the sect members shuffled out of the temple. The green flame in the center took the shape of a small reptile, which slithered silently away on the smooth checkered floor. The last silver-clad silhouette turned for a final look, pushing back the hood from his head. Huge, menacing eyes peered out of the alien face of a scaly reptile, straight into Michael's soul.

  *****

  Michael screamed. The draft from the open window cooled his sweat.

  "Wake-up, honey, it's only a nightmare." Veronica's gentle fingers stroked his hair.

  He jumped. "What? Oh boy! You scared me. Something terrible is happening."

  "You were having a dream. It's over now. You're all right," she said as if trying to calm a child.

  "No, it wasn't a dream. It was real. I was there..." Michael shuddered at the memory. “I could smell the stench, feel the breeze, the unnatural cold. I was there, and that monster marked me. I can feel it. Something evil was born before my eyes, and it's after me."

  "Tell me about it.”

  "I'm not good at talking."

  "You're better than you think, if you'd only try."

  "But this is insane... I must be going crazy. It doesn't make any sense. How could you understand?"

  "You underestimate the capacity of love, Michael. I bet I can understand anything. Try me, really... Try me once, please." Veronica flashed him the expectant eyes he never could resist.

  In the faint light of daybreak, Michael propped himself up on a pillow and painfully proceeded to tell Veronica about the hallucinations and dreams of the past few days. While she listened quietly, he recounted everything as he remembered it, describing every detail, including the proposition of helping the blue being. When he was finished, a pale sun shone through the open window.

  "Do you think I'm crazy?" Michael concluded.

  After a long silence, Veronica's analytical mind took over. "Either you're hallucinating, and that's scary enough, but there probably is some available therapy... Or else, this is really happening. What a frightening thought! I know you wouldn't lie about something like that. But imagine for a moment that this is for real... What will you do? That blue being wants you to help..."

  "No way... What could I possibly do?"

  "You are very resourceful." She sat up straight.

  With the morning light playing in her hair, Veronica mentioned their plans to escape an eventual disaster, the survival packs in the garage, the motorcycle ride across the country to the log cabin in Oregon, how they would find water, grow food, watch out for each other.

  "I wish it was that simple." Michael scratched his head. "But this would take someone who can deal with the political crap, someone with connections in high places, someone with a good reputation, a clean police record. Not me!"

  "What about the powers they told you about? Wouldn't they make almost anything possible?"

  "Look what it did for Christ... His miracles took him straight to the cross. Thanks but no thanks. Besides, I would have to shape up, change my ways. You know how hard I tried... I never could."

  "Maybe all you need is a cause. You always dreamed of becoming a hero. This could be your chance."

  "I couldn't do it even if I wanted to, not alone, and I'd never ask for help. Me, make a contribution to the world? What a joke! I don't even like most of the people in it. Besides, since it's confession time, I'm scared." Michael paused for a second and looked at his girlfriend for reassurance.

  Veronica touched his shoulder. "I've never seen you scared before, but I'm here, and I love you."

  "I know..." Michael couldn’t shake the dream. “I don't like that pretty boy born of a snake, not a bit. Krastinios... The name sounds familiar. And the snake-monster with the silver cape... Lufriec, that's it, his name was Lufriec! If that creature exists, I'd rather not face him. He gives me the creeps. I'll never forget those eyes, that scaly face and forked tongue as long as I live." Michael felt better now that he’d admitted to his fear.

  Veronica stroked his hair gently. "Gee... He must be something. Still, if my life depended on it, I would rather have you in charge than a stranger." As Michael fell silent, she went on. "Now, I understand why you want Jennifer to meet her mother so soon. You believe that if the world comes to an end, she may not get another chance. I love your generosity under all that gutsy pride." She smiled warmly.

  Michael reached for Veronica and drew her close. They always slept in the nude. As he felt her warm skin under the sheet, she smiled, green eyes glittering in the ray of sunshine sweeping the bed. Whether or not she believed his st
ory did not matter right now. She trusted him and Michael felt stronger for it.

  His desire hardened when Veronica caressed his hair, locking his head in a long, soft kiss. Michael's hands traveled along the smooth back, firm buttocks, and long, shapely thighs. The perfume released by the heat made his pulse race. The strength of his grip extracted a soft moan then one calloused hand probed the secret moist place between her thighs, the other fondling hard nipples.

  "Oh yes..." she whispered urgently, "Now... Please..."

  "Please what? You've got to tell me or you get nothing," Michael teased.

  Veronica reached for his aching member and firmly pulled it to herself, wrapping her legs around his waist. Michael groaned feeling the hot silky moisture surround his hard extremity, delighting in the musky scent.

  "You're cheating," he protested, all the while driving hard into her.

  "Whoever told you that life was fair?" Veronica retorted. But she stopped talking, her small cries turning into groans that could be heard half a block away.

  Michael enjoyed feeling her pleasure. He held out as long as he could but finally succumbed to bliss. In a mighty roar, he collapsed on her bosom, sweaty and exhausted, smiling contentedly.

  Veronica laughed in a broken voice. "I hope the neighbors have their windows closed."

  "If not, I hope they enjoyed it." Michael laughed.

  "I like it when we talk openly." Veronica sounded serious. “So often I feel that you're pushing me away... It hurts. I wish we could always feel as we do now, without hurting each other."

  "Yeah, I know what you mean... I feel good, too. Maybe we should trust each other a little more." Michael tried to make it sound like a joke, but he meant every word. “Maybe I could change a little, surprise you, make you proud of me."

  "I would like that." Veronica's clear smile warmed up the whole room.

  "I promise to give it my best shot." He kissed her forehead, hoping he didn't lie.