When You Believe

by Jessica Barksdale Inclan

  He had no choice. So as she and Felix continued talking about poetry, he watched her move her hands as she explained her work, asked questions about where Felix and Sariel grew up and went to school. He tried to memorize everything.

  She smiled at Sariel as Felix told her in detail about the plain tract home in Walnut Creek where Zosime raised them and gave her more roundabout information on the boarding school in Bampton, England.

  “A boarding school? You have got to be kidding. Not a school like in those books with the wizard kid?”

  Felix laughed, topped off her drink. “Probably not much different from your school. We had to do calculus and research papers, the whole deal. Dangling modifiers and dissected frogs. Where did you go?”

  Sariel watched her as she talked about Lowell High School and then college, her face flushed, her hair now wet tendrils in the Hawaiian humidity, her laughter a bell in the still-warm night. This couldn’t go on any longer. It was torture to be around her quick mind, ready laugh, and beautiful body, when he knew that for her safety and his, he needed to clear her mind of everything. He couldn’t drag this out for himself, knowing that it would be impossible to forget her. At least she would forget him, all of this a fuzzy blip in her memory, like deja vu.

  After another drink and more talk, the Hawaiian sun was on the horizon. San Francisco was already well into morning.

  “We’ve got to go,” Sariel said, standing up and holding out a hand to Miranda.

  “All good things must end,” Felix said, laughing, and then he stopped, shooting a quick look at Sariel. “I’m just glad I got a chance to meet you, Miranda.”

  Pushing Sariel away from Miranda, Felix gave her a quick hug, and Sariel closed his eyes. Felix had never really approved of any of the women Sariel had been with.

  “Too needy,” he’d say. “Wants to settle you down. Can’t light a fire in her own fireplace much less do magic.”

  When Sariel brought Kallisto home for the first time, Felix hadn’t wanted to get within one mile of her, even during the brief time when Zosime and Rufus thought she was the most wonderful sorciere on the planet.

  “I don’t like her,” Felix told him once over too many beers, an evening that ended with Sariel setting down his beer stein and nailing Felix in the jaw. Sure, he’d healed his brother after the scuffle was over. But he heard Felix’s words in his mind, heard his judgment.

  Of course, Felix had been right about Kallisto. Completely. But here Felix was, totally smitten with the woman Sariel couldn’t have. If Felix could hear his thoughts, Sariel would beat him down with a choice word or two.

  “Okay, enough. We’re off.” Sariel hugged Felix. “I’ll talk with you later.”

  “Safe journey,” Felix said, waving.

  Sariel put his arms around Miranda, thought them back into the gray, and then they were home, the light streaming into Miranda’s bedroom. They were back. Back into the day Sariel would have to take her memories away and would have to learn to live with his own.

  Chapter Six

  Miranda held onto Sariel, knowing they weren’t anywhere. She pressed her hands into his strong back, forced her cheek onto his chest. She felt his heart, a steady thump, thump, thump, and she wished hers was beating in such a calm rhythm. If she let go, what would happen? Would she stay stuck in nothingness? Would she be left behind in a place she could never escape from? A place where she would never see Sariel again? She gripped harder, pressed in closer, clenched her eyes closed tighter. Her back molars started to ache.

  Then Sariel started to laugh, the lovely sound pulsing into her.

  “Miranda, relax. We’ve been here for a couple of minutes. I think we’re safe.”

  Slowly, she opened her eyes, the light from her bedroom window making her blink. Lightening her grip, she inched away from Sariel and then smiled back at him.

  “That was unbelievable.”

  “Not really.” Sariel sighed, put his hands in his pockets, and turned to look out the window.

  “Yes, really,” she said, looking up at him. She pushed a stand of hair away from his cheek, wishing she could read his mind. What was he thinking? Why did he look so sad?

  He bit his lip and looked toward her bed. For a second, she hoped he would want to crawl back under the covers and stay there for the rest of the day. But instead, he pointed at her answering machine on the bedside table.

  “Seems like someone’s being trying to get ahold of you.”

  Miranda let go of him and walked to the bedside table and saw the machine blinking its always-urgent red. Five calls. When they’d left, there’d been none.

  “Let me check,” she said, sitting down on the bed. “I wonder. Oh, my God! I bet it’s about Viv! The baby!”

  Sariel sighed and sat by her. Miranda quickly pressed the buttons on the machine, and as she had thought, all the calls were from Seamus.

  “Randa, where are you? Viv’s gone into labor. We aren’t going to the hospital yet, but soon. Call my cell.”

  The next call was a little more urgent, Seamus’s voice a bit higher, until the fifth call, where he was positively shrill.

  “It’s happening so fast. We’ll be at Mt. Diablo hospital. Get here quick.”

  Miranda slammed down the phone and looked over at Sariel.

  “My sister’s having her baby. I’ve got to get out there. But Christ, it’s the tail end of the commute.” Miranda walked over to the window and saw the usual morning parking lot on the bottom deck of the Bay Bridge, the top deck moving only slightly faster. “It’ll take me over an hour to get there. I’ll probably be too late.”

  Miranda turned away from the window, her breath high in her chest, her heart beating as fast as it had when Sariel thought them home from Hawaii. She had an idea, but she didn’t know how to say it. A couple of days ago, she’d have thought she was nuts if she thought to ask Sariel to “materialize” her anywhere, much less Viv’s birthing room. Last night in bed, though, or even an hour ago as they sat with Felix on his lanai drinking pina coladas, she’d have asked Sariel to take her to Concord and Viv’s bedside in a second. But he seemed different now, cold, faraway, distant, as if he’d left part of himself in the gray. The part that liked her.

  Miranda didn’t have time to worry about him now, though. She had to think about Viv, Seamus, and the new baby. With Jack, she’d finally learned to not keep putting a man’s needs in front of her own or her family’s. Viv needed her, so with or without Sariel, she was going to Concord to help out. Miranda took a deep breath and walked to the closet, taking off her dress, trying not to imagine Sariel behind her watching. She’d jump on BART and then come home after the evening commute. Or she could spend the night at Viv’s. So what did she need? Just a change of clothes, toothpaste. Did June know? She needed to call her mother.

  “I’ll take you,” Sariel said, standing up and walking over to her. “But then I have to go.”

  His go sounded so heavy, Miranda had to breathe deeply to fight off her tears. Swallowing, she turned to face him.

  “Thanks. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. I need to get to my sister.”

  He nodded, not smiling back, not touching her, looking like the same isolated man she’d seen at the bar that first night, separated from everyone else and just fine with that. Drinking his beer while everyone else flipped out around him.

  Where was the man who had healed her ankle? Who had held her body all last night? Who had walked with her on the deserted city street this morning? Wrapped his arms around her tightly as he took her to Hawaii? Hawaii!

  Miranda shook her head and turned back to the closet. As she grabbed clothes to wear, she closed her eyes and breathed in through her nose, trying to calm herself. Sariel could act like a total jerk, but she had important things to do. She pulled on her T-shirt and jeans, thinking about Viv in labor. Her sister. Someone who did need her.

  Sariel obviously hadn’t ever been to Mt. Diablo Hospital in Concord because rather than placing them somewher
e inconspicuous, suddenly he and Miranda were in a rotunda in the main lobby, an older woman with a shopping bag at her feet blinking at them.

  “My,” she said, her eyes rheumy, her husband asleep and resting against her. “Oh, my. Did you… I mean, my goodness.”

  Sariel almost growled, pulling Miranda away from the woman, swearing under his breath. Stealing a glance at him, she slowed down, her feet frozen beneath her. His face was set, his brow furrowed, his eyes amber slits. His expression reminded her of countless teachers and several boyfriends, their irritation with her after she’d said something wrong, misbehaved, or laughed too loudly.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, almost yanking her shoulder away from his grip, tears biting at the corners of her eyes. “I need to find Viv’s room.”

  “Just over here. I need to say something first.” He pointed to a hallway past the bank of elevators, and for a second, Miranda hoped he wanted to say good-bye to her properly. A hug. A kiss. A huge, all-encompassing apology. But from the look on his face, he didn’t seem in the mood for tenderness.

  “I better get up to Viv’s room,” she said. “Seamus sounded frantic on the message.”

  She refused to move, ignoring the pressure from his hand on her arm. Sariel turned to face her, and put both his hands on her shoulders. His face was still hard, but something was going on. If only he would tell her.

  “Please.” His eyes widened, and she could see his sadness again. “Come with me.”

  “My sister,” she said, pointing to the elevators. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Now, Miranda.”

  For a second she would think about later, she knew his hand slid down and gripped her upper arm a bit too hard, and she felt the beginning of a tug. But then an elevator door opened, and June rushed out, clutching her purse. Miranda’s mother looked as though she hadn’t slept the night before, her short, dyed blonde hair a wild pinprick of style. The whites of her brown eyes were slightly red, her mascara flecked on her lower lids, though June had managed to smooth on a bow of lipstick, only slightly smudged.

  Miranda knew that if things weren’t somehow terribly wrong, June would never leave the house like this, always conscious of how she looked. Usually, she was always carefully coiffed, her hair a smooth, tidy helmet, her face made up in Lancome grace, her clothes matching perfectly with her stylish shoes. But now, even June’s pants were wrinkled, the buttons on her blouse askew. As she stared at her mother in surprise, Miranda saw for maybe only the third time in her life that she was related to her mother, both of them quite capable of style infractions.

  “Mom!” Miranda yanked herself free of Sariel. “What’s wrong?”

  June looked at Miranda, tried to smile, and then burst into tears, mascara now starting to bleed down her face. “Where have you been!” she snuffled, almost barking out, “Operation.”

  “What?” Miranda walked to her mother and put her arm around her. “What do you mean?”

  June pressed her head against Miranda’s shoulder for a second and then stood back. “An emergency C-section. The labor’s gone on too long and the baby’s heartbeat is down… in distress. Your Aunt Bell just called me from her cell phone, and she’s parking her car. We’re going to go up to wait together. But I’m glad you’re finally here, Miranda. Where on earth have you been?”

  Giving Miranda a wobbly, worried smile, June looked over to Sariel, who’d stepped back, his hands behind his back.

  “Mom, this is Sariel. He brought me here. Sariel, this is my mother, June.”

  Distracted, June shook her head and then looked up, confused. Finally, she put out a hand. “Sariel’s an angel.”

  Sariel reached over and shook June’s hand quickly and then stepped back to where he’d been, his hands quickly behind his back. “Yes,” he said. “An archangel.”

  June tried to say something else, but Sariel interrupted. “Nice to meet you. I’ve got to be going.”

  He started to walk away and Miranda ran after him, following him as he turned a corner. When she caught up to him, she grabbed his shoulder. “Sariel, what’s wrong? I—I wish you would stay. It would be nice to have…”

  Miranda heard him sigh deeply, and he stopped moving and turned to her. But then his body went rigid. She gasped when he was flung against the wall, not looking at her. His face went from honey to sheet-white, and he was forced flat against the wall, his eyes flicking as if he were reading a cue card. He whispered, “No. It can’t be true,” and closed his eyes for a second, nodding.

  “What is it?” Miranda leaned over him, breathing in his orange smell. “Are you all right?”

  She stroked his hair, wondering if she should run out to the lobby and scream that she needed a doctor, and then he jerked his head toward her, found his breath, and stood up straight. His eyes were wide and full of thought, and he adjusted his hair behind him, keeping his gaze from her as he did.

  When Sariel turned to her, his face was steady and revealing nothing. “I’ve got to go. It’s important.”

  Miranda looked at him, hoping to find something in his expression to hold on to. He seemed to want to say something, his lips moving to words she couldn’t hear, to thoughts she had no ability to read. She tried to concentrate, finding a way into his mind as he had into hers. What was going on? What couldn’t he tell her? There was something. She thought she felt something. Fear. Anger. Something bad. Really awful. Or was she making up a horrible disaster because that would be the only justification for him treating her like this?

  “What? Tell me. What’s going on?”

  “I can’t.” He moved toward her as if to kiss her, but then he shrugged, turned, and walked out the glass doors into the morning light.

  Miranda watched him leave, and then she heard June come up behind her. Her mother put a hand on Miranda’s shoulder, her fingers light.

  “He had to go?” June asked. “Just like that?”

  Miranda nodded, holding back her tears, and she and her mother watched him stride right by Aunt Bell, who turned to stare at him.

  All at once, everything seemed gone. His saving her from the group at the bar, his healing, his touch, his love, the trip. Everything that they had talked about, learned about from each other, laughed over. All of their time together was riding away on his angry back.

  His voice had been so hard, curt, sharp, his body so rigid, Miranda wanted nothing more than to wish him gone, to think loudly, Leave. Let me be with my family.

  But she wouldn’t mean it, despite everything.

  Nervously, June fiddled with her purse and began to ramble. “Not only is Sariel an archangel, but a fallen one,” June said.

  “Fallen,” Miranda repeated, not moving until Sariel disappeared behind a green slash of shrubs. “How do you know that, Mom?”

  “Oh.” June waved a hand. “Being Catholic has its perks.”

  She and Miranda walked toward the door, both of them with their eyes on Aunt Bell, who was lugging two large bags which were undoubtedly filled with snickerdoodles and chocolate oatmeal cookies, her knitting, and the sports page. “You’re about as Catholic as I am these days.”

  June took a tissue from her dress pocket and wiped her lipstick off. “Okay. It was that angel class Bell took me to. After your dad died. We made those angel masks. Bell knitted the hair! So cute. Anyway, we had a list of all the angels. I remember Sariel because he wasn’t always a good angel. Holy and fallen at the same time. That was Bell’s favorite. ‘More realistic,’’ she said.”

  “What?” Miranda grabbed her mother’s arm. “What do you mean not always good?”

  “I’m just full of silly knowledge, aren’t I?” June said. “Sariel was the angel responsible for the fates of angels who disobey God’s commands.”

  “Really?” Miranda said, wanting to know more, but then Aunt Bell was through the door, was in June’s arms, and in a moment, all three of them rushed into the elevator and up to Viv.

  There wasn’t much any of them could do in the w
aiting room except eat cookies and try to discuss baseball with Bell, who read to them from the sports page. Seamus was in with Viv as the doctors delivered the baby, and Viv’s best friend, Robin, was taking care of Summer, Jordie, and Hazel. So Miranda sat in between her mother and aunt on the white vinyl couch and watched television, the bad news of the day flickering on the screen for what seemed like hours. A two-year-old Smithsonian on her lap, Miranda wished she could read the article about the antebellum house in Savannah, but the minute she would flip a page, June would start up a conversation about her neighbors Doris DeLucca and Tom Biondi or the proper way to purchase a bare-root pear tree or how Viv’s daughter, Summer, was just a bit out of control.

  Finally, Miranda put down the magazine. She couldn’t read or even respond to her mother, her head seeming to be full of the gray matter she’d traveled through earlier. She’d try to listen to her mother and then she’d think about Sariel’s taut, tight skin; or she’d think about Sariel’s smile and find herself worrying about Viv and anesthesia and sharp scalpels. Her stomach gurgled from too much sugar, her hands sweated, and she wondered when it was, exactly, that she’d stand up, scream, and be taken away to the fifth-floor psychiatric lockup.

  But finally, Seamus came into the waiting room, teary-eyed, pushing the mask off his mouth. He stood there, big and blue in his scrubs, and looked at all three of them, searching for words. His almost-white hair was flattened to his head, his blue eyes bloodshot but full of happiness.

  June stood up, putting a hand on Miranda’s shoulder for support. “Well?”

  Seamus nodded, his smile wide. “She’s beautiful!”

  “It’s a girl!” Aunt Bell said, pulling Miranda up with her. “How lovely.”

  “No,” Seamus said, waving his hands. “Viv’s beautiful. Amazing. Oh, you should have seen her in there. But we have another son. Fat little guy. Ten pounds! No wonder he didn’t want to come out.”

  Miranda moved to Seamus, holding out her arms and pulling him tight. Viv was so lucky. Who else but a man totally in love would think anyone flat on her back, gut open, surgical cap on, babbling from anesthesia, was beautiful?