by G. P. Ching
Gabriel did not hesitate or consider the consequences. He would not have the man’s injury or death on his hands. The angel swooped down and cushioned the old man’s fall, careful not to be seen. The act was lightning fast and completely effective.
Alongside Wisdom, Gabriel continued on, leaving the man lying under the oak tree in his front yard, staring up into the heavens.
* * * * *
“Jacob, Jacob! Come quick!” Aunt Carolyn cried.
Inside his bedroom, Jacob dropped the tie he was unsuccessfully trying to knot around his neck and jogged down the hall to the stairwell. Aunt Carolyn’s ample body plugged the open front door.
“What’s going on?”
“Oh Jacob, come quick,” she whined, flailing her stubby arms at her sides. “John fell off the ladder!” She took a step onto the porch and continued down the three concrete stairs to the lawn. “Check if he’s breathing!”
Uncle John was flat on his back, the fallen ladder at on odd angle across the lawn. Jacob rushed past Aunt Carolyn’s ambling figure prepared to perform CPR, but paused when he noticed his uncle was grinning, staring at the sky like he’d simply lain down to watch the clouds. “Uncle John?”
“Is he dead?” Carolyn yelled.
Uncle John’s hand shot up toward Jacob who obliged by helping the man up. “I’m not dead, woman. I’m more alive than I’ve ever been.”
Aunt Carolyn’s round face puckered. “What are you talking about? I saw you fall off the ladder.”
John placed a hand over his heart. “A miracle, Carolyn. Something caught me.”
“Caught you?”
“I know it sounds crazy but I felt arms cushion my fall, like my own personal guardian angel was looking out for me.”
Carolyn ran a chubby hand over the back of John’s head. “Did you bump your noggin, John? You are acting strangely.”
With his hands in his pockets, Jacob mulled over the idea of a guardian angel. The way the ladder was strewn across the lawn and his uncle had nary a scrape seemed to indicate divine intervention. Jacob had experience with the divine as a Soulkeeper. He’d learned never to underestimate even the smallest of events.
“What did the angel look like?” Jacob asked.
Uncle John pushed Carolyn’s hands away and turned toward him. “A gigantic red bird.”
Jacob’s eyebrows shot up. “The angel looked like a red bird?”
The older man nodded slowly.
Aunt Carolyn made a small huffing noise, mouth open and hands on hips. “Guardian angel or not, I think you should have an x-ray, John Laudner. Who knows what kind of damage might have been done.”
“I’m fine, Carolyn. Look, don’t wrinkle your pretty dress by putting your hands on your hips like that. I’ll get changed and we’ll go pay our respects at Willow’s Bridge as planned.”
Willow’s Bridge was Paris’s only funeral home and the place where Luke Michaels had been cremated. The family had put off the visitation a couple of weeks while they finished the soybean harvest. Jacob was ready to help Dane move on from the loss, but he suspected Aunt Carolyn’s attendance had more to do with her interest in the gossip the wake would provide. Everyone in town wanted to know if Mrs. Michaels planned to sell the family farm now that its patriarch was deceased.
“Promise me you won’t say anything about the bird, John. Clare Barger will never let me live it down.”
John waved her away, scowling, and strode toward the house. Jacob followed, picking up his tie from his chest and starting the knot again. As he entered the house, Katrina descended the stairs, adjusting her long-sleeved blue dress. The glimpse of her shoulder blade jarred Jacob into dropping his tie again. She was thin, no—skeletal. Her skin stretched across the sharp contour of bone without the pad of muscle or fat. Before the bird flu, that blue dress seemed clingy. Now the fabric hung on her bones like a coat hanger. Her once shiny brown hair was dull and lifeless, as were her eyes.
“Mom, have you seen my medicine?” Katrina asked.
Carolyn marched toward her. “Haven’t you finished your course, yet? You’ve been taking it for weeks.”
“The bottle says to keep taking it until I don’t have symptoms when I stop. Every time I stop, I throw up.”
Jacob followed the two into the house, noticing how large and hollow Katrina’s eyes had become. “Do you need something to eat?”
“No, Jacob, I just need my medicine. Mom!”
The sound of rustling pills came from the kitchen, Carolyn digging through the mass of vitamins and painkillers she kept in a basket on top of the refrigerator. “Ah, here they are. You’re almost out.”
Katrina met her at the kitchen table, taking the fluorescent blue pill with a shaking hand. Jacob winced. She didn’t even use water to wash it down.
“Try to get better, honey. These things are costing us an arm and a leg. Elysium is like gold. Do you know people are getting held up in the city, not for their wallets, but for their Elysium?”
Jacob moved for the stairs, starting again on his tie.
“I guess when you need a pill to feel normal, you’ll do anything for it. Thank God Harrington Enterprises found the cure or I’d still be in bed,” Katrina said.
Stopping halfway to the second floor, Jacob turned around and returned to Katrina’s side. “Harrington Enterprises? Did you say Harrington Enterprises?”
“Yeah, they make Elysium,” she said, holding up the bottle. “What’s wrong? You look pale?”
Jacob shook his head. “No, nothing. Just curious.” Harrington had a pharmaceuticals division; it didn’t necessarily mean the Watchers were tainting the drugs like they had the bottled water. Then again, with what he’d learned from Malini, it couldn’t be a coincidence. Jacob sent a hasty text to Malini, then jogged up the stairs and finished getting ready.
Chapter 9
Willow’s Bridge
Malini arrived at the Willow’s Bridge Funeral Home, anxious to see Dane. He’d been busy helping his family the last few weeks and missed most of the training sessions in Eden. She worried that when the challenge caught up to them all, Dane would be the most vulnerable. Aside from the advantages all of the Soulkeepers developed over time—above-average speed, agility, and health—Dane didn’t have his own inherent powers. Instead, he borrowed other’s gifts, which had come in damn useful during their last mission but could be a detriment if a legion of Watchers marched up the street.
Not to mention, she wanted to know he was okay, personally. Dane thought his dad was getting better. No one in the family expected him to die when he did. But for Dane, his relationship with his father was a story without an ending. He’d never had the opportunity to come out to his dad. What did it do to someone to know that the person who raised them never understood who they really were?
“Thanks for waiting for me.” Jacob touched the elbow of her black suit. “Have you seen him yet?”
“No. My parents and I came separately. They’ve already gone through without me.”
“Are they still angry about your hair?”
Malini smoothed her hand over her ear. “They say they aren’t angry, but my mother didn’t share our homecoming pictures on Facebook. I’m sure she’s hoping it will grow out before any of our extended family sees it. Did you come with the Laudners?”
“Yeah. They parked around back and went in the side door by reception. My aunt Carolyn brought a casserole. Listen, I’ve got to tell you about something that happened today.”
A honk from behind them almost made Malini fall off her high-heeled shoes. She caught herself on Jacob’s chest, and shot a dirty look toward the offending vehicle.
Ethan smiled from the driver’s side window of Lillian’s car. “Ah, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you, Malini … much. Will you guys wait for us?”
Jacob sighed. “Sure.” He gave a small wave to his mother who was in the passenger’s seat. She must’ve changed at the shop and come straight from work.
Malini watched Ethan maneuver
the Volkswagen Beetle into a parking space. “I’m glad your mom convinced Ethan to come with her. I don’t care what the family thinks; Dane needs him today. Not to mention that he’s put in as many hours as Dane on that farm this fall. I think he’s learned as much about soybeans as soulkeeping.”
“About that, haven’t they ever asked him where he lives? The guy works there every day. Paris is a small town. Aren’t any of them curious where he came from?”
With a quiet laugh, Malini threaded her fingers into his. “Grace took care of that months ago. He has an apartment in town. He’s a writer; doesn’t come out much.”
“Oh. People believe that?”
“Seems so.”
Lillian jogged to Jacob’s side as if her burgundy sheath dress and heels were athletic gear. Ethan followed close behind, keys in hand. “Are you ready to go in?” he asked.
Malini nodded and held open one side of the heavy wooden double doors for the others to walk through. The dark wood foyer was crowded with flowers, all of them supplied by Laudner’s flower shop. She filed in at the back of the line of people waiting to offer their condolences to the family. Jacob grabbed a card from the basket near the entryway, and showed it to her, while Lillian and Ethan signed the guestbook. The picture of Luke Michaels was one from years ago with a full head of brown hair and piercing gray eyes exactly like Dane’s.
“He looks so young,” Malini said.
A stocky redheaded woman in front of them turned around, blotting her eyes with a tissue. “It’s just so senseless. I can’t believe this happened.”
Malini reached out to comfort the woman, resting her hand on her ample shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss. Are you family?” She didn’t recognize the woman from town. Maybe a cousin?
“Oh no. I was his nurse at Terre Haute Hospital. You just get to know the families working with patients the way I do. It sticks with you when things like this happen. Just not right. I wanted to pay my respects.”
Lillian nodded empathetically. “He was too young. Struck down in his prime.”
“Yes, of course. But I mean the whole thing with the medication. Atrocious!”
“I’m sorry— What was your name?” Malini asked.
“Patricia. Patty. Very nice to meet you.” She extended her hand. Malini accepted her handshake and introduced Jacob, Lillian, and Ethan, who was growing more uncomfortable by the minute. They took a few steps forward with the line.
“So, what were you saying about the medication?” Lillian prompted.
“Didn’t you hear?” She lowered her voice. “His medication was discontinued. Harrington Pharmaceuticals stopped production of all medications except Elysium. Luke’s condition was rare, as was his prescription therapy. The hospital couldn’t find another source in time. If you ask me, that’s what killed him.”
Malini wanted to continue the conversation, but Jacob was poking her in the side. She tried pushing his hand away but eventually gave into his prodding. “What Jacob?” she said through a tight smile.
He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “That’s what I texted you about. Elysium is made by Harrington.”
Malini exchanged glances with Lillian who fidgeted as if she were covered in ants. “Thank you, Patty. We didn’t know. I’m sure the family will find comfort in your presence.”
Patty nodded, dabbing her eyes again, and turned back into line.
They’d reached the front of the funeral parlor where an urn containing Mr. Michaels’s remains was surrounded by more flowers and plants. While the family visited with Patty, Malini said a prayer for Luke Michaels. She couldn’t get her head around how a fully grown man could fit in the small metal container. Life was fleeting and fragile. He’d spent his life building the largest farm in Paris to end up here.
“Thanks for coming, Mal,” Dane said, calling her over. He wrapped his arms around her for a quick hug.
“Hey, man.” Jacob extended his hand while Lillian and Ethan hung back. “Sorry, again, about your dad.”
“Thank you.”
“Ethan!” Mrs. Michaels called. Dane turned toward his mother, eyebrows raised, then exchanged glances with Ethan. The gray-haired woman budged between them and hooked her hand inside Ethan’s elbow. “There you are! I thought Dane would have invited you to stand with us. You’re practically family.” She pulled him by her side in line.
Ethan’s mouth fell open, and Dane stared at his mother as if she’d grown a second head.
Mary Michaels lowered her voice. “There’s no reason for us to keep pretending this isn’t what it is. Today, we are a family grieving. All of us. We all need each other.”
Next to Ethan, who took his position in the receiving line with equal measure of shock and aplomb, Dane nodded, eyes misting. He turned to shake Lillian’s hand and accept her condolences. Pulling Mrs. Michaels into a tight hug, Malini was speechless with admiration. Finally, Ethan and Dane got what they deserved. Acceptance.
When Lillian and Jacob had finished with the line, Malini followed the others to the reception room where they joined the Laudner family at one of several folding tables set up for guests.
“You should try Carolyn’s casserole,” John Laudner said to Malini. “Jacob will tell ya how good it is. Best Bacon Cheeseburger Breakfast casserole in town.”
Jacob glanced at her, then flashed Carolyn a practiced smile. “Uh, yeah. Real cheesy,” he said, bobbing his head.
In the chair beside John, an exhausted looking Katrina rested her head in her palm. She snorted at the exchange. “Yeah, it’s delicious, and contains your entire daily requirement of calories per serving.” She giggled and Carolyn slapped her on the shoulder.
“Katrina!”
“Oh, come on, Mom. You use an entire stick of butter in that thing.”
Carolyn pointed a chubby finger in Malini’s direction. “It’s a treat, for special occasions.”
“I’ll be sure to try some,” Malini said. “Katrina, you look like you need more than a day’s worth of calories, care to join me?” Malini’s comment landed on the table between her and Katrina like a thrown brick.
Elbows anchored on the table, Jacob’s cousin extended her hands, fingers knotted in front of her. “I’m not hungry.”
Uncle John rubbed his short gray hair with his palm. “You need to eat, darling,” he said softly.
Pulling out a chair across from him, Lillian agreed. “I haven’t seen you eat a full meal since you’ve been better.”
Jacob stepped closer and slightly in front of Malini, as if protecting her from the inevitable onslaught. “Here it comes,” he whispered.
“I’m not better. That’s the problem. People don’t get better without medicine. If Dad would let me take mine, I might be able to keep something down.”
John groaned but answered her with an element of control Katrina didn’t share. “You’ve been on Elysium for weeks. The doctor said it was supposed to cure you in two. You’ve got no fever anymore. You know what I think, Katrina? I think you’re addicted to the Elysium.”
Katrina grimaced. “Addicted? I’m not addicted. Do you say a diabetic is addicted to insulin? I feel sick to my stomach when I don’t take it. I can’t eat if I don’t take it.” She slapped the table. The other wake-goers filing into the reception room glanced toward her table.
“Withdrawal symptoms. I bet you get a headache too,” John whispered. “You know, when I was in the military we had some guys addicted to opium. Same thing. Elysium is addictive; mark my words.” He sat up straighter in his chair and turned to look Malini directly in the eye. “You know, the way the world is today, it would not surprise me if the company purposefully made Elysium to be addicting. They must be making a mint.”
Malini raised her eyebrows. “It’s possible.” More than possible actually. A tingle traveled up Malini’s spine to her scalp.
John turned back to Katrina. “I’m gonna help you quit. You’ll feel so much better when you do.”
With a burst of energy that seemed
to come out of nowhere, Katrina stood up and grabbed her purse. “You are not a doctor, Dad, and you have no idea how I feel or why. Half the globe is on Elysium trying to fight this crazy virus. How do you know I don’t need to be on it longer? At least let me talk to Dr. Howard.”
Aunt Carolyn tugged on the side of her floral dress. “Katrina, sit down. You are making a scene,” she said in a loud stage whisper. Her brown eyes darted around to the other guests in the reception area. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and stared in their direction. “Sit down and we’ll talk about this like adults.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Mother,” Katrina shouted. “Am I embarrassing you? Am I marring your precious perfect family image? Give me a break.” She stomped out the side door, slamming it behind her.
“That was awful,” Jacob said flatly. Lillian and Malini nodded in agreement.
“It’s the Elysium,” John said, rubbing his upper lip. “And I’ll tell you something else. The thought occurred to me today that Harrington Enterprises created the virus so that they could cure it.”
Aunt Carolyn rolled her eyes. “Oh, John, now you’re sounding crazy.”
“I’m not crazy. Do you know how much money Harrington is making off Elysium? I read that one in every thousand people is on it now. It’s suspicious, too, how they stopped producing all other medications before the outbreak. It’s like they knew it was coming.”
Lillian made a small coughing noise. “Will you excuse me? I need to get some air.” She caught Malini’s eye and gestured with her head toward the door.
“See John. You are scaring people away with this mumbojumbo,” Caroline chided.
Malini tipped her head. “No, I want to hear this. John, why do you believe Harrington created the virus?”
“I was stringing lights today and fell off the ladder. Someone … something broke my fall.” Uncle John paused when Aunt Carolyn gave him a death stare. He cleared his throat. “Afterward, lying there staring up at the sky, it occurred to me out of the blue that no one has ever died from this bird flu. Doctors say it’s fatal, and they are prescribing Elysium to anyone who will take it. The stuff’s like gold, too. Hundreds of dollars for a month’s supply. But I haven’t heard of any actual deaths. Hell, they’ve had the cure from the very beginning. I’m telling you, it’s Harrington. They developed this virus, then cured it for the sake of profit, and they’re greasing all of these doctors’ pockets to get everyone hooked on it. How is it that Harrington was so far ahead of the curve on this? When did they do the R&D? I’ll tell you when, before anyone knew about the virus. A bit too convenient, don’t you think? Well, I’ll tell you one thing, if I catch this from Katrina, I’m not taking Elysium. No way.”