War In Heaven

by Jasmine Bowen

  Isda felt about ready to drop when she ushered number 40 into the room. In her mind, she felt sorry for the tall and slightly bulky rocker, with long hair and tattoos, because the discussion before him had been how much they really did love number 18, their first favorite. So felt like the choice had already been made and so it was with a pang of guilt that she introduced their final candidate.

  “Guys, this is Eli. Last but not least,” she smiled a weak smile and went back to her place, crossing her legs and picking up her textbook. The words were beginning to blur together and she doubted she was learning anything at all. But if she didn’t finish this chapter, it was more than the band that would be in trouble at the end of the night.

  Eli had confidence about him that was beyond his years. At only 21, he looked to be 30, but had shining eyes like a child, despite his rough exterior. Suddenly, when she looked up, meeting his eyes, her jaw dropped.

  “We know you, don’t we!” she cried at once. Eli laughed, a soft chuckle escaping the giant voice.

  “I was wondering if you guys would remember.”

  Ramiel leaned forward, squinting.

  “Did you go to Colonel Sanders School? We used to do joint music workshops with your school, didn’t we?”

  “Yep,” Eli grinned. “You guys were super good, even then.”

  “And your hair was a lot shorter,” Gabriel replied, remembering. “Jinn, do you remember him?”

  “I do,” Jinn was the last to clue in. “I remember you and your keyboards. I didn’t know you sang, kid.”

  “Here and there. I thought I’d give it a shot.”

  “What are you doing now?” Jinn asked, curious and trying to comprehend how this skinny little kid who ran around the music workshops he had helped volunteer at had grown to be such a man.

  “I have my own band, although it’s nowhere near as successful as yours. We mostly do covers, and we’re breaking up because most of them are going off to college. Trying to get a real job, at last.”

  Jinn laughed at that.

  “Well, let’s see what you’ve got. What is it you want to sing for us?”

  “Whore of Babylon, since the lovely Isda is here,” Eli said, glancing at Isda and having no idea what this actually meant. “If you don’t mind.”

  “Oh,” she said, startled. She put down her textbook and looked to Gabriel, who wasn’t looking at her. “I um…”

  “I prepared it alone, but it would sound so much better with you.”

  “Can’t you do another song?” Gabriel growled, and Jinn waved his hand.

  “Of course he can, but this is what he prepared. So let’s hear it, and then we can ask him to sing something else if we need.”

  Isda was looking to Gabriel for permission, for approval, for anything, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes. Shakily, she rose, coming to the table and placing her hand on it, for support.

  “You start,” she told Eli, who nodded.

  The Fallen Angel, The Babylon Whore. Trying to make a living, not knowing what’s in store. The downfall of the city, the bane of our pity. We fall for her eyes, we fall for her lies.

  His voice filled the entire room and probably reached out to the parking lot. It was not the same as Gabriel’s version, nowhere near the same. Every note seemed different, held longer, shorter, higher or lower. But the intensity, the power and raw talent, were so strong that the boys were enchanted.

  He promised me a kingdom, he promised me a dream, he promised me a story, of things that are unseen…

  Isda’s voice was pure and sweet and strong, the insanity of a Broadway singer met with the pureness of an opera singer.

  But it was when the chorus came that surprised Jinn and Ramiel. Gabriel rose, looking straight into Eli’s eyes and the three of them, three of the most powerful voices in the world, began to sing together.

  Who are we to judge the Babylon Whore? Why do we judge Mystery, ancient history, when we cannot know her story?

  Jinn saw it coming before it happened, saw Gabriel lose the note three beats before Eli. Isda’s breath gave out a beat later, loyal to her husband, and Eli was left roaring the last note through the room. Even when he stopped, it seemed his powerful presence was still filling it, the noises echoing off the wall.

  For a moment, no one said anything. Jinn had forgotten to breath, and he sucked in a breath to speak.

  “Thank you, Eli, that was great.”

  “What church did you go to?” Ramiel asked, trying to break the tension in the room. Eli winced.

  “I um…went a few times with some girlfriends, but never you know, a regular thing. My parents are scientists, and it wasn’t a big thing in our household.”

  “So you’re an atheist?” Gabriel spoke, but his voice sounded hoarse. Eli shrugged.

  “I wouldn’t say that. I’m spiritual, and I’m an open person. Of course I know you guys are a Christian band, and if that’s the motivation that makes your music so beautiful, that’s great, I’m all for it.”

  “You know that we tour churches, mostly Sundays, and we do it for free?” Jinn asked, and Eli nodded.

  “I know. I’m totally fine with that. I think it’s great that you guys donate your services and do a lot of charity work. My band played in the benefit for Oklahoma a few years ago, and a few small things.”

  “Great,” Jinn replied. “Thank you, Eli, we’ll be in touch.”

  “Thanks guys, see you around,” he said, and sauntered off like he had just had dinner with them, not auditioned for the biggest opportunity in his life.

  Once the door swung closed, Jinn turned to Gabriel.

  “Well?”

  Gabriel’s face was sour and he looked pale, but didn’t answer.

  “Gabe?” Ramiel asked. “What’s the matter with you? That was the best audition we had.”

  “Do you think I’m tone deaf?” Gabriel snapped. “Of course I know that?”

  “Gabriel…” Isda said, but he flared his eyes at her.

  “Don’t you start, wife. You were the one who stood up like he was my replacement.”

  “No one is trying to replace you,” Jinn said, for what felt like the 50th time that day. But Gabriel rolled his eyes, pushing his chair back to pace the room.

  “But if you hire that kid, you know that’s what you are doing, eventually.”

  “I thought we agreed to hire the best person for the job,” Ramiel put in. “Forget these other 5, he had the voice of an angel.”

  Gabriel glared.

  “That’s what they said about me,” his voice was gruff. “Remember? That’s what they said about me when I started touring the circuit. But now what? They don’t say that anymore. We’re at such a level of fame that no one cares what we are trying to do. Look at that woman, Jinn, she worshiped you. And that’s not what we are trying to achieve here, is it? Or maybe our motives have changed.”

  “Of course they haven’t,” Jinn replied, calmly. “So why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?”

  “Eli is good, I grant you that. But he’s such a different sound than what we want. If he’s the voice of an angel, perhaps it’s Lucifer himself. He’s probably never seen the inside of a church in his life. Probably doesn’t know who the Whore of Babylon actually is, aside from picturing Isda when he says that.”

  “Gabriel,” Jinn said, carefully and quietly. The way he said it struck fear into Gabriel’s heart. “I want you to listen to me carefully, because I’m not going to say it again. No one is going to replace you, no one is trying to. We are trying to bring this band forward. Yes, God granted you a weaker body than you wanted, but maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. Maybe this is what is meant to happen. Regardless, I understand the pain this is causing you. So you need to be the one to make the choice.”

  “What?” Everyone’s mouth fell open at that.

  “It’s Gabriel’s support, and so it should be Gabriel that makes the choice. Take some time, go off and pray about it. Come back to us with a choice.”

>   Gabriel said nothing for a few minutes, his mouth gaping like a fish. Finally, he grabbed his keys from the table, and spun on his heel, stalking out of the room and slamming the door behind him. Isda muffled another sob.

  “Stay,” Jinn said to her. “Stay. He’s needed this for a long time.”

  “And what if his choice is to walk away from all of this?” Isda turned back to the boys, her face stained with tears.

  Jinn shrugged, so confidant.

  “It’s in God’s hands now,” he said, and began to gather his stuff up. And he would not allow another word to be said.

  It was raining when Gabriel exited the hall, and he drew his jacket closer, his hair instantly soaked.

  What the hell do they know? He thought, bitterly as he walked to his car, jamming the keys inside and pulling the door open. I’m the one who brought this band to its fame. Without my voice, the Ballet House would have never called at all. And God, dear God, you wouldn’t do this to me, would you? I did the right thing, I married Isda, I loved her the best I could, I toured, I bled sweat and tears for this band, so what now?

  He didn’t realize where he was driving until he got there. Until he was pulling up into the parking lot.

  It was a church that he had often passed, but never went in. A tiny small building that looked like it was falling over, it only had a tiny sign that announced services on Sundays at 11 am. The sign looked like it hadn’t been changed in years.

  He pulled at the door, and it swung open, although it was a bit stiff. No one he knew would come here, and he just wanted to be alone.

  From the look of the inside of the church, it might be abandoned, for all he knew. There was dust at the hinges, and the light switch only gave birth to a flickering lamp.

  He didn’t call out hello, didn’t make a sound as he plunked himself down on a pew. He had walked into churches alone all his life, for sound checks, for visits, and for solace, this was no different.

  Not hearing a noise, he flung himself backwards, and lay flat on the pew, wondering what he would say if a priest came by.

  It was perfectly quiet inside, perfectly peaceful. He couldn’t even hear the road outside.

  Closing his eyes, and listening only his own thoughts, Gabriel took a deep breath, the deepest breath he had been able to take in months, and began to sing.

  He didn’t know what he was singing until the second verse, but it was Gethsemane, from the rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar. It had always been, he felt, a cheesy and inaccurate version of the real Bible story, and he rarely even hummed it. But today, the words were flying through his head, placed there by divine intervention.

  The song took him through Jesus’ final days, his walk up the mountain, his demand of the Father why he had to die, and his acceptance that he would die for a cause he didn’t understand, for these people he didn’t know, for reasons unclear. All of it for the love of God, all of it for the trust in his Holy Father.

  Gabriel felt hot tears running down his face, both from physical and emotion pain as he belted out the lyrics to an empty church. His lungs burned and he choked several times, but each time he picked up, vocally crawling, vocally bleeding to the end of the song. He hated himself for what he had done to Isda, for his harsh attitude, for the way he had behaved. He had never respected this song before, but now, now it felt right.

  Jesus died for his sins, perhaps the very one he committed towards his wife tonight, this disrespect and pain. And he could not accept help to continue to spread the message of the Lord.

  “All right,” he whispered into the darkness at last. “All right. I’ll die.”

  “Please don’t do it on the pew, son,” he looked up, shocked, to find a man, dressed a janitor hovering over him. “Are you all right? Do you need me to call someone for you?”

  “Oh, um,” Gabriel scrambled up, embarrassed, and wiped his face. “No, I’m ok. Sorry. I just needed a place to…chill for a moment.”

  “That’s no worries. This is a church, it’s open to all. That was a mighty fine song you just sang though. Are you a singer or something?”

  Gabriel chuckled at that, swinging his feet over the pew, and standing up. His head felt dizzy with the sudden movement and his breath came short. But for the first time in a long time, he felt strong. He shrugged.

  “Yeah, or something,” he said.

  “Well, don’t give up on your dreams. That was great,” the man went back to sweeping the floors, leaving Gabriel stunned. He had practically ripped the song apart, and yet this man was calling it beautiful.“Got to finish this tonight. You take care now, let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thank you,” Gabriel replied, already heading towards the door. “Thank you, sir. God Bless you.”

  “God Bless you too, son,” the man answered. Gabriel reached the door and was about to call back good night when he turned. The man was nowhere to be seen, the church empty again.

  Thank you God, for sending me an angel of music Gabriel thought, as he pushed out into the rain. Please help me to be one, too.

  Chapter Six

  “Isda?” Gabriel called, as he came through the door. It was late, past midnight. He realized he must have zoned out, in the church pew, on the drive, lost in his own head as he searched for answers. He hadn’t meant to worry Ida, and she looked thoroughly worried, standing in the living room in her robe, arms crossed. “Hi, Baby.”

  “Hi,” she said, and he couldn’t decipher the tone in her voice. Couldn’t decide whether it was anger, or pain, or worry, or hatred, or a little bit of all of them.

  “You should be asleep.”

  “Yes, I should,” she agreed. “But how could I wondering if my husband is dead in a ditch, somewhere.”

  “Isda,” he took off his coat, coming towards her. But for the first time in their marriage, she pulled back, didn’t let him touch her. “Baby, let me explain.”

  “Do I want to know?” she asked him, looking away, with tears in her eyes. “Do I want to know where you’ve been, or is it going to break my heart, like you’ve been doing all year?”

  His mouth fell open. “What are you talking about?”

  She looked at him in shock, “Do you not know?”

  He struggled for the right answer.

  “I…It’s been a rough year, Isda.”

  “Yeah, it has, for everybody. But since we were 15 years old, Gabriel, we’ve gotten through every struggle, every hurdle and challenge that God has presented to us. Until now.”

  “Hmm?” he asked, sitting on the arm of the chair. “What’s going through your head, love. Talk to me.”

  “I can’t,” now the tears were free flowing, pouring down her face. “I can’t! I want to, but I can’t.”

  “Baby,” his heart trembled. “Of course you can talk to me. You’ve always been able to.”

  “Have I?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because I feel like you’ve been shutting me out. Ever since you’ve gotten sick, Gabriel, you’ve acted as if you were a leper. As if how your lungs worked really made a difference to how much I loved you.”

  He fell silent for a moment, fidgeting his nails. It had come up in his head, of course, but he hadn’t dared say it. The night he and Ida had met, they had fallen in love with pureness of each other’s voices, each other’s musicality. Of course, their relationship had come to mean far more than that , but it hard started that way. And without it, he didn’t know where it would go, and he hadn’t dared to ask. Were those late night silences really because she was mad at him, or because he was turning out to not be the man she married, the man she loved first for his voice, before his sparkling blue eyes? If they didn’t have music, what else did they have in common?

  “I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you,” he said, and he meant it. “Just because it was rough for me, it was no excuse to treat you the way I did. I’ve strayed from God’s path, Isda, I admit, and you were the one who grounded me. If I didn’t come home when I did, who knows where this would have tak
en me. I’ve let my head get clouded with fame, with fortune, and forgotten the real reason we were on this mission. And then, when we had those auditions, I felt like it was a personal attack, when it’s not about me at all.”

  A slight smile came to her face, and she took a step a little closer to him, her tense muscles relaxing.

  “You really feel that way?”

  “Isda, I’m only half without you,” he admitted, finally breaking down. She went to him, wrapping her arms around him, and both shed tears. She knew that this wasn’t the end, of them or of the battle. She knew that Gabriel wasn’t out of the woods yet, that there would still be fights, still be prayers for healing. And she also knew that this wouldn’t be their greatest challenge. But living up to her name, the angel of nourishment, she wrapped her arms around him and fed his soul with her kisses. For their love could only exist if it was a reflection of their love for God, and they were finally finding their way back to him, after wandering lost for so long.

  “I’m sorry too,” she whispered into his ear. “I really am. It’s not like I’ve been an angel either. I wasn’t as understanding as I should be. I felt hurt by your choices, by your words, and I let it affect me instead of being focused on our mission.”

  “I think that we’re only human, and God understands how we fail sometimes.”

  “Oh, but how we’ve failed,” Isda said, and Gabriel whispered words in her ear.

  “We’re not broken, we’re bent, and we can learn to love again. It’s in the stars, it is written in our hearts.”

  She sniffled, pulling back to look him in the eye with curiosity.

  “Was that a Bible verse?”

  He grinned.

  “It was Pink, the singer, but whatever works.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in for more kisses. “Come wife, for we have much time to make up for.”

  “Indeed, we do,” she replied, and let herself be carried to the bedroom.

  There were many times that people told her she shouldn’t have married Gabriel, that she was too young; he was too young, they didn’t know themselves yet, so how could they know each other?