Princes of Arkwright

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Princes of Arkwright Page 8

by Trafford, Daniel


  “Alyson,” he said. “Do you remember when you were 4 years old, your mother took you to Roger Williams Park?”

  Aly looked at him quizzically.

  “You were having a picnic on an old blue blanket next to a tree when a cardinal came to alight on one of its boughs. You were gleeful in your joy, for you had never seen anything so beautiful. But in an instant it had flown away. You asked your mother to make it come back, and she told you she couldn’t.”

  Aly stared at Uriel with her mouth wide open.

  “You were enraged. To a 4-year-old girl, her mother could do anything. Nothing was beyond her grasp. Therefore, if she didn’t make the bird come back, she must have chosen not to.”

  “How did you know about that?” whispered Aly. Her face had frozen. “I haven’t thought about that in years.”

  “Now that you are an adult with the wisdom of years, you know that there’s nothing your mother could have done to bring that bird back.”

  “So,” said Aly, “you’re saying God is limited in his abilities?”

  “I am saying,” replied Uriel, “that just as your relationship with your mother is better now that you are an adult, so must you grow in your relationship to everything else that exists. When dealing with God, do not act like a child. For the cardinal will never fly back. Do you remember that man I told you about who asked God not to destroy the two cities?”

  Aly nodded.

  “God loved him. Men have choices. And this man always chose the right thing. We told God he was just as the other men – that he would choose himself above. So God devised a test – instructed him to kill his only son as a favor to God. We all knew he would not do it. I do not believe even God thought he could do it. But he sent me down anyway to protect the boy, just to be safe. Well, this man, with tears in his eyes, tied up his son and was just about to plunge his knife deep into the little boy’s chest. I had to grab his arm to stop him. He was prepared to give up the one thing on earth that gave him joy. Well, after that, humanity could do no wrong in God’s eyes. And his tolerance has left me baffled.”

  “That’s very interesting, Uriel,” said Aly, “but what does it have to do with Lenore?”

  “You’ll have to be patient,” said the angel.

  Aly tried to make eye contact with Tucker, who had been looking down at the bar during this entire exchange. She somehow hoped that a knowing glance or facial expression from him would be enough to answer all the questions she had.

  Tucker, for his part, was wondering how long he could go without looking her in the eye. He also wondered where the night was going and how much more the angel would say. He longed for it to be over. To his relief, the lull in the conversation turned into an extended silence. He preferred the awkward quiet to the awkwardness of explanations.

  Tucker had two more beers, while Aly finished a bottle of chardonnay. It had been a while since Tucker had had a drink, and he was feeling the effects of it.

  “We should go,” said Aly. “Any more and I’ll have to take your keys away from you.”

  “I walked here,” said Tucker.

  “Any more and I’ll have to take your shoes away from you.”

  Both Tucker and Aly grabbed the bar and laughed a good drunk laugh. The angel’s expression didn’t change.

  “Come on,” said Tucker. “I’ll walk you home.”

  “Like hell,” said Aly. “I don’t want you to know where I live.”

  Again, they both laughed, and laughed harder still while searching the wall for the light switch. Finally they staggered out of the bar, following Uriel, who was walking as steady as ever. Tucker helped Aly lock the door as Uriel walked forward and gazed at the rushing water of the river below.

  “I’m sorry about him,” said Tucker, motioning to Uriel. “I know he’s a little weird.”

  “Bullshit.” said Aly. “Who is this guy? And how does he know what he knows? I never told anyone that story.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you did tell someone and just don’t remember.”

  “Not likely,” said Aly, shaking her head.

  “Or maybe he’s just nuts and lives his own little imaginary world.”

  “Just because someone has an imagination,” said Aly. “That doesn’t make them nuts, Tucker. It makes them interesting. But you wouldn’t understand, since you never had an imaginative thought in your life.”

  “What are you talking about?” said Tucker, grateful that Aly had gone back to insulting him. Anything to take her mind off Uriel. “I have a great imagination.”

  “Prove it,” said Aly, cocking her head to one side and sticking out her tongue.

  “OK,” said Tucker, “I will.” He pointed to the sky, where clouds were floating by the moon, sometimes obscuring it, sometimes revealing it. “You see that cloud up there? It looks just like a rabbit.”

  “Oh, yeah,” said Aly, looking up. “I totally see that.”

  “And that one,” he said, “looks like a snake.”

  “Where?” she said. “I don’t see it.”

  “There,” said Tucker, pointing. “See how it’s coiled up?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “I see it now.”

  “And that one’s really cool,” said Tucker. “It looks kind of like a skull with horns, but from the side. Do you see it?”

  Tucker turned to look at Aly. Her jaw had fallen open, and the little color in her face had drained out, making her positively glow in the moonlight. Tucker gave a little laugh then slowly turned around to see what she was looking at. Standing on the road in front of him was a figure that slightly resembled a man, except that he was 20 feet tall, maroon, scaly and hulking. He had three pairs of wings, pointed and charred. One pair reached straight up, forming a kind of triangular crown over his misshapen horned head. Another pair completely covered him from his waist to his feet. The third pair was twice the size of the others and were spread wide as though ready for flight. Around his waist was coiled a long and pointed tail that seemed almost to be an entity apart from the creature. A scowl twisted his face into an ugliness Tucker had never beheld.

  Uriel stepped between Tucker and Aly, motioning for them to get behind him.

  “Asmodeus!” he said.

  “Friend of yours?” asked Tucker.

  “We’re not friends,” said Uriel, reaching over his shoulder as if to scratch his back. From an invisible scabbard, he drew a sword more than four feet long. The hilt shimmered silver and the blade burst into flames of iridescent fire. Uriel held it straight up with both hands and then squatted close to the ground. Suddenly, he jumped, propelling himself into the air. A pair of wings instantly appeared on his back, strong and powerful, yet as beautiful as a dove’s. Tucker looked over at Aly, who was whimpering at this spectacle with her lips closed tightly.

  “I suggest we let him handle this one on his own,” said Tucker, putting his arm around Aly and coaxing her away.

  “Uh hum,” said Aly, rapidly nodding about 10 times in succession. Tucker guided her down the river bank to a spot under the bridge where he could still see Uriel, now circling the demon with incredible agility, soaring first like an eagle, then darting back and forth like a sparrow, or hovering and flying backwards like a hummingbird.

  “Asmodeus,” said Tucker. “He knows demons on a first-name basis. How cool is that?”

  Aly said nothing, but just stared at Tucker with eyes wide open and her lips curled into a comical frown.

  “Oh,” said Tucker. “Yeah, what you were asking about earlier ... Uriel is an archangel. One of seven who go into God’s chamber ... or something. I don’t know. He’ll explain it to you.”

  Uriel’s fiery sword spun around and lunged, creating sparkly patterns in the night sky. It moved with such speed, Tucker could never tell where it was at any moment. The demon attacked with claws on his hands and feet and whipped at Uriel with his sharp tail.

  “He has wings,” said Aly, finally regaining the power of speech.

  “Of course he has wing
s,” said Tucker. “He’s an angel.”

  “But,” said Aly, “I thought … metaphor.”

  Uriel’s sword caught the edge of one of Asmodeus’ wings and the demon let out a jagged cry.

  “That thing is like three times his size,” said Aly.

  “Don’t worry,” said Tucker. “You would not believe the stuff I’ve seen him do. I’m sure he’ll cut that thing in half any second now.”

  Uriel lunged at the demon’s head, which jerked aside, avoiding the blow. The sharp end of his tail struck Uriel’s hand, which sent the fiery sword plummeting. It plunged into the river, causing the surface to explode into steam. Uriel landed the back of his clenched fist squarely on the demon’s face before darting away.

  “Tuckerbromley!” he called, while flying to evade the demon. “Find my sword.”

  Tucker and Aly ran to the river where they had seen the flaming sword fall in. The surface was so dense with steam they could see nothing. Tucker plunged his hand in and felt around.

  “Ow!” he said drawing his hand back out. “The water’s hot!”

  “Tucker,” said Aly, grasping at his shirt.

  “Help me find the sword, will you?” said Tucker.

  “Tucker,” said Aly again.

  “I’m trying! I’m trying!” he said. “It’s too foggy.”

  “Tuck!” screamed Aly, grabbing his arm.

  “What?” yelled Tucker.

  “Look!”

  Tucker turned around and a shiver ran down his back. Dozens of ancient women, down on all fours, were scurrying toward them down the riverbank, their eyes burning red. Tucker plunged his hand into the hot water, frantically searching for the blade.

  “I can’t see anything,” he yelled.

  Aly clutched him around the middle and screamed as the spider-like women got closer.

  “I can’t see!” he yelled again.

  The powerful wings of Asmodeus struck the angel in the chest, hurling him against the bridge. The structure cracked and a gas line that ran the length of the span exploded, knocking Tucker and Aly on their backs. The force of the explosion momentarily blew away the steam. In its fiery glow, Tucker could make out the silvery hilt of the sword embedded in the riverbed. As he pulled the sword out of the water, it burst into flame again. Tucker spun around, severing three white-permed heads neatly from their frail, elderly bodies in the process. The appearance of the fiery sword caused the other women to crawl quickly back toward the road.

  “Tuckerbromley!” yelled the angel, hovering at the edge of the bridge. Tucker reached back with the sword and hurled it into the air straight toward Uriel, who caught it neatly by the hilt. The angel turned to do battle just as another powerful bat wing caught him in the middle, smashing him across the river through the stained-glass window of St. Michael’s Church. Multi-colored shards of glass, shimmering in the moonlight, came raining down on the river below.

  “Uriel!” screamed Tucker.

  Asmodeus landed knee-deep in the middle of the river, his red eyes focused on Tucker. The detective pulled Aly behind him, and the two slowly backed up the concrete incline that led to the underside of the bridge.

  “Oh no. No.” whispered Tucker. “I’m so sorry, Aly.”

  Asmodeus reached out toward Tucker with his scaly claws, and acid spilled from his mouth, burning baseball-sized holes into the concrete below.

  “Please, God,” said Aly, holding Tucker tightly around the middle. Asmodeus moved his face within a foot of Tucker’s, who looked the demon in the eye, refusing to break his stare. Suddenly, a fiery sword hurled from across the river burst through the ugly head, coming within two inches of Tucker’s face. The demon collapsed, splashing hard into the rushing waters.

  Tucker looked up toward the church. In the gaping hole that once boasted the giant image of Saint Michael stood the drooping form of Uriel, his wings hanging straight down, and his arms clinging to the window frame for support.

  12. ALLIANCE

  Aly clung to Tucker to keep herself from falling down. The detective helped her off the concrete incline to more steady ground. The blaring sirens of fire engines could be heard in the distance.

  “Tucker,” she said, in a wheezing voice. “Does Victoria know about this?”

  “No,” he said. “Nobody does.” Tucker kept looking up toward the broken window, watching the angel moving slowly and painfully. Finally, with a great effort he jumped down, gliding to Tucker’s side of the river and crashing into the dense vegetation.

  “Uriel!” screamed Tucker, running toward the angel and searching for him in the undergrowth. “Uriel!”

  Tucker found the barely conscious angel lying next to a tree and breathing heavily. His wings were gone and his face was swollen and bruised.

  “You saved my life again,” said Tucker. “Are you going to be OK? What should I do?”

  “My sword, Tuckerbromley,” gasped Uriel between breaths. Tucker spun around and his face was aglow as he was confronted with the point of the fiery sword.

  “Looking for this?” said Aly, speaking once again in her usual contemptuous voice. “I pulled it out of that thing’s head and he just faded into mist. So did all those elderly women and their disembodied heads. Where did they go?”

  “They fled to Egypt,” said Uriel.

  “OK,” said Tucker. “That’s good. They don’t have enough problems there.”

  The sirens were now deafening and the woods were flooded with flashing lights. A small fire still burned from the gaping crack in the center of the bridge. Uriel struggled to his feet and took the sword from Aly. He threw it over his shoulder and it disappeared into an invisible scabbard.

  “Good night, Tuckerbromley,” said Uriel, climbing out of the undergrowth and heading back toward the bar.

  “Is that it?” said Tucker, following the angel with Aly close behind. The angel stopped and slowly turned to look at Tucker. The burning iridescent eyes were now quite dull, and Tucker could barely see them under Uriel’s heavy, drooping eyelids.

  “Fear not,” he said. “You are safe now. I would say you require a great deal of slumber.”

  With that the angel walked away.

  “We’re going for coffee tomorrow morning at 10,” said Aly.

  “I can’t,” said Tucker. “I have work.”

  “Tomorrow morning at 10,” said Aly.

  “Oh wait,” said Tucker. “I forgot, I’m on a forced vacation.”

  “Tomorrow — 10 a.m.,” said Aly.

  “OK, OK,” said Tucker. “At the Donut Kettle?”

  Aly nodded and started walking up the hill with an incredible composure that left Tucker wondering.

  “Maybe she’s just in shock,” said Tucker to himself.

  Tucker made it home by taking an alternate route to avoid talking to his fellow officers who were now congregated on the bridge with the firefighters. He slept a long, dreamless sleep, as the angel had predicted, and dressed himself in khakis and a T-shirt with a black unbuttoned dress shirt over it. He arrived at the Donut Kettle five minutes late.

  Aly was sitting in the booth closest to the counter waiting for him. He made eye contact with her as he opened the door, walking past her up to the counter.

  “Let’s see,” said Tucker slowly. “What do I want?”

  Aly jumped out of her seat, grabbed his arm and dragged him over to the booth.

  “You sit your ass down right now!” she said pushing him into his seat. “All right, start talking.”

  Tucker related everything that had happened since the night Bobby was murdered.

  “Interesting,” said Aly, staring at her cup of coffee and making circles with her finger around the rim. “I gave this a lot of thought last night.”

  “You seem to be taking it very well,” said Tucker. “When I first met Uriel I think I peed myself.”

  Aly shrugged, saying, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in you philosophy.”

  “My name’s ‘Tucker
,’” said Tucker.

  “God, are you an idiot,” said Aly, shaking her head.

  “I’m just kidding,” said Tucker, “I’ve read ‘Hamlet’ too.”

  “What do you suppose he’s doing here in Arkwright?” she asked.

  “He says he has a mission, but he doesn’t know what it is – oh, and to protect me.”

  “I wonder what his mission is,” said Aly.

  Tucker shrugged his shoulders.

  “Tucker,” said Aly, “what if it’s something violent?”

  “Like what?”

  “Well,” she said, “you remember that story he told about the two cities he was sent to destroy?”

  “Minneapolis and St. Paul?”

  Aly reached out and struck Tucker on the forehead sharply with the palm of her hand.

  “He was obviously talking about Sodom and Gomorrah.”

  Tucker stared at her blankly.

  “The cities in the Bible that God sent two angels to destroy?” explained Aly.

  “Why did God want to destroy them?” asked Tucker.

  “Well,” said Aly, tilting her head to one side, “it was Sodom – from which we get the word ‘sodomy.’”

  “Ohhh! Wow, that’s a little harsh.” he said.

  “Well, they were raping everybody right and left.” she said. “Anyway, what if that’s what Uriel is doing here – getting ready to destroy Arkwright?”

  “I don’t know,” said Tucker. “I don’t think God does too much urban smiting anymore. Besides, why would God want to destroy Arkwright? Because it’s too boring? The only thing we have here are prostitutes without customers and gang activity that’s less violent than your average hockey game.”

  “I just wish I knew why he was here,” she said.

  “So do I,” said Tucker. “Can I go get a coffee now?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Tucker got up and headed to the counter. Then he turned around and sat down again.

  “Can I borrow a couple of bucks?” he asked. “I forgot to hit the ATM machine.”

  Aly rolled her eyes. “You know, that’s one of my pet peeves,” she said.

  “Sorry,” said Tucker. “It’s just a couple of bucks.”

 

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