Endless

by S. B. Niccum

  Drymus, my new babysitter, casts suspicious glances at me now and then as he flies like Superman next to Kerubiel. The three of them look like a force to be reckoned with, like a Heavenly Justice League. They’re all very competitive, and before long, I find myself caught in the middle of a fierce flying race through space—one that Dayspring seems to be wining. Constellations, planets, moons, suns, whole galaxies even, zoom past us like shooting stars. I see things that I’ve only seen at the planetarium, and things that I’ve never seen before. I’d like to see these things in more detail, but Dayspring is flying so fast that everything melts into a shiny blur. In spite of the speed, on Dayspring’s back, I feel like I’m on a leisurely pony ride. There is no jostling, no bumpiness, no turbulence, just smooth flying through space. The oddest part about this is that, as fantastic as all of this is, it feels very familiar, like I was born among these stars, like this is my long lost home and just now I’m coming back to it.

  Finally, we enter the atmosphere of a huge planet, and from above, it looks very different than from Earth. While our planet is mostly blue, this one is mostly green. It looks foreign, alien, as well it should, I suppose, since it is a foreign planet.

  As we make our descent and get closer to the landmass, I see why it looks so green from above. There are no oceans here, but there are lots and lots of ponds, pools, and lakes that are completely surrounded by the greenest tallest trees I’ve ever seen. It’s like the Redwood forest on steroids here. This planet has mountains, hills, valleys, and it looks like an endless forested Paradise of green.

  “I suppose you’re taking her,” Drymus says possessively as he makes a smooth landing on the Seraph mossy turf.

  “I won’t let her out of my sight,” Dayspring says with a roll of her eyes. Drymus grunts and, before leaving, casts a warning look in my direction. What does he think I’m going to do? Start an alien war? Kerubiel follows him, but turns and winks at Dayspring before disappearing into the thick forest.

  “The Cherub planet is very different from ours,” Dayspring says wistfully as she watches her fiancé get swallowed by the woods. “They barely have any trees at all. Their planet is mostly jagged rocks with a patch of grass here and a bush there,” she sighs.

  “That sounds dismal,” I say, conversationally. It feels easy to talk to her, even though we haven’t said much to each other.

  “Well, it is pretty in its own way, of course. The rocks are translucent, like what you’d call a diamond. When the sun is out, its light bounces off and makes beautiful rainbows and patterns on the ground, or anything solid for that matter. You should see it dance around Kerubiel’s body when he stands still—it’s really mesmerizing. I used to think he was so…well…white, until I saw him in his own planet. I was alive then, or I should say, we were both alive. We were trying to sign a truce between the two worlds, so he invited me to his. When I stepped inside his house, the sun was just setting, and the light that filtered through touched the side of his face and arms, and danced right on his skin. I was speechless, and I’m pretty sure that my mouth fell open.” She shakes her head, and her golden dreadlocks bounce off my arm. “I felt like such an idiot. I got angry with him because I found him attractive, and that almost cost my world its peace.”

  “What happened next?”

  “Kerubiel, as always, was gracious and ignored my rudeness. He had prepared a meal that was a combination of traditional meals from the two worlds. He personally cooked some of the dishes. It was hilarious. We laughed for the rest of the evening and gagged on most of his half-and-half creations. There were a few things that actually tasted decent and we’re serving those at our wedding.”

  “What a great idea!”

  “Here we are,” she announces as we land on a mossy hilltop that is decorated for a huge wedding—huge as in Cherub and Seraph size—with rows of tall stools on one side of the isle for the Cherubs to sit on, and plush pillows on the other made for Seraph comfort. They are all facing the edge of the cliff, but there is no altar, or arbor, or anything really where the actual ceremony would take place.

  “Where’s the gazebo?” I ask.

  “The what?”

  “You know…the place where the officiator stands and pronounces you man and wife?”

  She chuckles. “You’re thinking like a human. We’ll be over there.” She points to thin air, and I frown perplexed.

  She takes out one of her wings and shakes it slightly. “We can fly, Tess, both of us! Our officiator too.” She looks smug, then saunters away.

  “Who will officiate?” I call after her. “A Cherub or a Seraph? And won’t it be kind of uncomfortable to hover there, flapping your wings in mid-air throughout the whole ceremony?” I say logically.

  “If you had wings, you’d understand, ” she snubs over her shoulder. “But, no, it won’t be uncomfortable. We’re proud of our wings and as to the officiator…you’ll see,” she taunts while suppressing a smile. “We will hover there, flapping our wings, as you so well put it,” she says and points to a spot way off the edge of the cliff. “And there will be one row of Seraphs and one row of Cherubs, right here.” She moves both her arms up and down in parallel lines, like a landing signal officer helping a plane to a safe landing. “Also flapping their wings,” she adds with sarcasm. “And making arches out of fruiting zayit branches. The altar will also be hovering in mid-air, and my nephews who are my altar boys will hold it up. There, the officiator will marry us.” She pointed to a spot, still further out. She stood erect and pensive looking at the spot that would soon make her a bride.

  “What are zayit branches, and why all the mystery about the officiator? Who will it be?” I ask, full of curiosity now.

  “Zayit is a holy plant that is used in all religious ceremonies in Seraph culture. I couldn’t get married without it. As to the officiator, my lips are sealed, you’ll just have to wait and see.” She smiles, then suddenly sobers. “It’s time to get serious now, I saved one last crucial detail for you and you alone.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Will you design me a dress?”

  Chapter 7

  I struggle to know what’s real anymore. I know I’ve heard her; she sounded like she used to sound. I felt that old familiar feeling I used to feel when I dreamed of her in life.

  Somehow, I still feel like that boy in high school, the one that thought he was going crazy. I was by all intents and purposes the all-American guy—football player, student government, popular, rich, cute girlfriend—I used to think I had it all. But then one day, one look from her changed everything. I tried to convince myself that there was no such thing as ‘love at first sight’, that it was all for books and stories. My parents even disagreed on this point. My dad swore that he fell in love the moment he saw my mother’s eyes, and my mom always alleged that she didn’t know she was in love until much later. As always with my mom, there was some dream and a drawing involved, her life always revolved around her dreams…and her drawings!

  When I first saw Tess, I didn’t know what had happened to me. It was odd, unlike anything I had ever experienced, and it made me feel uncertain of myself—something I’ve always hated. Her eyes held me captive. They were both gray and green, but they were more than that, they held a memory inside. I felt bound to them—to her—I knew that I always would be hers. The helplessness I felt over those new feelings made me recoil from her at first, and I felt a little trapped, like I had no choice but to be with her.

  I felt unnaturally compelled toward her, forcefully magnetized to a girl I hardly knew. But try as I might to ignore those feelings, I couldn’t stay away for long. Every time I saw her, that same feeling of being tied to her with invisible cords, came back. Still, I fought those feelings every day, and every day she won. Had she put a spell on me? Why was she invading my life—my dreams?

  Everywhere I turned, her presence could be felt or seen. I felt her every time I smelled something fresh, like jasmine or mint—her scent. I saw her eyes every time I
saw the sage-green moss that covered all our trees. I would think of her hair whenever I saw a black bird preening its wings. She was everywhere!

  At one point I thought I could even hear her breathing while she sat at her desk. From my seat I could see the rising and falling of her chest with every breath she took. I could hear the air going into her throat, down her lungs and back out her mouth, over and over again, like the ticking of the clock. She reminded me of what I loved most—the ocean—her rhythmic breathing was like the waves, constantly washing up on to my mind.

  I tried to avoid her all-together, but it was impossible; I felt sick without her, and better when I saw her. She brought sunshine and fresh air with her smile. Her lips…they curved into a smile every time she saw me, they touched her eyes, and she would bring order to my head for that moment. Then that order would leave, and all that was left was confusion.

  One day I found her alone, in the rain, shaking, and lost. How I found her is still a mystery to me. How did I know where she would be? I never told her this in life, but that night, I knew I was going to find her. I was coming back from football practice; the way home has always been one way, and a straight shot at that. But that night, I turned and started driving in the opposite direction. I drove downtown instead, not knowing why or what was possessing me. All I know is that I was thinking of her, and, just as my mind was dwelling on a smile she had given me that day, I heard her in my head! Her voice sounded strained, scared, and pleading. “Alex, help me, please!” It was like an echo, reverberating in my head over and over again.

  I sped up, feeling the urgency in her voice. I could feel how scared she felt, how wretched, miserable, and alone. She had no one, yet somehow, she knew she had me. I made turns as if I knew where I was going. I cut through traffic and found myself on the freeway. I exited somewhere and made a series of turns into an industrial part of town, until finally, in the distance, I saw her. She was being spotlighted by a streetlight. The rain was pelting her, the drops looked like vicious little knives that stabbed her as she sat curled up in a ball. I felt her fear more keenly; I knew that she might take off running at any moment. But when she heard my voice she rushed to me as if she were expecting me!

  Words could never explain what I felt when I held her in my arms for the first time. She was mine, simple as that. She belonged in my arms and together we were…home. The rest of that night was bittersweet for me. I kept oscillating between keeping her and letting her go. She needed to focus on school, she needed to get those scholarships and get to college on her own. I knew that if I got involved, I would get in her way and be a distraction.

  My grandfather’s advice—that when it comes to young love, “too good too soon,” would spoil things—revolved in my head. “Relationships,” he would say, “need to be developed at the right time. Otherwise you might ruin it by simply being too young and reckless.”

  For a moment there, that evening, we were so close. I felt her lips brushing against my own, and the proximity of her body made me greedy. So after I dropped her off at her foster home, I drove home, determined to call Eugenia and break up with her.

  To my complete dismay, Eugenia was already waiting for me at home. She was talking with Katie my sister, and smiling with that fake smile of hers. Eugenia was pretending to give a crap about my sister, when in reality I knew she didn’t. Katie looked up gratefully when she saw me, as though she couldn’t wait for me to get home and relieve her of this tedious duty that she’d been sent to fulfill.

  Why did I ever date Eugenia at all? I guess it was the idea of her that appealed to my vanity. Our parents were friends and we grew up together, in fact, I don’t think I ever asked her out. We were pegged as a couple in kindergarten, and had been paired up ever since. She had always been spoiled, throwing tantrums when she didn’t get her way, but I didn’t seem to notice this until we were in high school. That’s when I saw how mean-spirited and selfish she was, only concerned with how she could get what she wanted without having to work for it.

  Ironically, what attracted me to Tess that night at my grandfather’s house, was how unselfish she was. As he talked about her life with her foster brother, and how she had made the decision to take care of him—that’s when it hit me! Not all girls are like Genie! Tess was only fifteen, yet she had taken on an immense responsibility and was doing something about it. Tess was selfless, kind, and ready to sacrifice her own comfort for the sake of her foster brother.

  The contrast between the two became stark that night, and it woke me up from some sort of deep sleep. If I had felt anything for Tess before, after that night, it was solidified. I was in love. Nothing, no one would ever change that.

  So when I saw Genie’s fake, condescending smile the moment I got home, I knew that it was over. She knew it too, and panicked. She used all her powers of persuasion, but nothing worked. She became background noise to me from then on. She threw all kinds of fits, she cried, she begged, she even resorted to her parents and had them intervene. The end result was a last promise to take her to prom—which I did under duress.

  Well, it wasn’t the only result. Eugenia did go to school that next day and tried to bully Tess. I had no idea she was going to do that, or I would have been ready. My plan was actually to ask Tess out that day, but Genie got to Tess first, and apparently pretended that we hadn’t broken up at all. Tess was mad, I could see it in her eyes. She thought I was weak and had no backbone. She did something stupid too; she went and got herself a boyfriend. Wes was a decent guy, but from that day on, I couldn’t stand him. My pride was wounded, I wanted to explain, but at the same time I didn’t want to waste my breath. I spent the rest of that school year trying to forget her. I failed, of course.

  If my resolve was ever strong, it failed me completely while at Prom. When I saw her that night, there weren’t words in our vocabulary that could describe her beauty. She was ethereal and earthly, all bound into one. A fairy and a goddess, fantasy made real! I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist her, and I knew I wouldn’t go home without a kiss from her, even if it meant upsetting Wes. A selfish thought crept up in me. Tess was mine, not his! He didn’t dream about her almost every night, I did! Some mysterious force didn’t lead him to her when she was alone and scared in the rain! He didn’t know her at all, but I did!

  Much later, and to my complete surprise, I found out she dreamed of me, too. If I was crazy, she was crazy too, and for some reason that made me feel better. The dreams were real, at least for us they were. Inexplicably, we had some sort of telepathic link that I was perfectly fine with. I should have been freaked out by it, but I wasn’t. It felt…natural. We never lost it either, not even after we were married, not after I died and, well…haunted her. There was a long period though, when the connection seemed feeble, and only because I didn’t want her to worry, I tried not to reach for her on purpose. I wanted her to live the rest of her life in peace. Did I do wrong? Did that change things for her? She might have remarried. Wes maybe. As disturbing as that thought is, it might be a possibility. That might explain what just happened here.

  She was here. I felt her presence. I saw her! But my eyes often deceive me so I can’t trust them. The link is unique though. It can’t be madeup, so I can say with certainty that Tess is dead, and that she was here. I heard her mind, there’s no mistake about that. I know I’ve been living inside my head for a long time here, but that was Tess. But for some reason she didn’t want me to go to her. She wanted me to stay here. Stuck. Alone. Damned.

  The deal made to Eugenia had been, “deliver Tess, and I’ll free you from this place.” But of course, Agatha didn’t keep her end of the bargain; she took Tess instead and left Eugenia to rot in Hell.

  “Figures,” Eugenia mumbled under her breath when the rift closed right in front of her face. But as she turned, she saw, to her immense pleasure, that Alex was standing some distance away, looking like he had just been slapped. The two Hellhounds were retreating back into the shadows, leaving no evidence of the imp
ending danger that they had posed to him, or the sacrifice that Tess made in his behalf.

  “Good,” Eugenia thought genially, suddenly forgetting her previous disappointment. “I’ll stay here, with him.” She straightened, fixed her most alluring smile on her face, and started to go straight to him to console him in his dark hour. Also, she wanted to reassure him of Tess’ betrayal, not just of her betrayal to him, but to her as well. In her mind, it was now Tess who had broken the promise, not Agatha. “Fine friend, that Tess!” Eugenia muttered under her breath, with a crooked smile as she glided toward Alex in the darkness.

  Just as she was about to reach Alex’s petrified form, she realized one crucial point—she looked hideous! This stopped her dead in her tracks. Meanwhile, Alex seemed to regain enough of his senses to glide away, so Eugenia followed him instead, curious to see what would happen to him now that his precious Tess was gone.

  It didn’t take long for him to form a bubble again and start reviewing every aspect of her face and the ordeal that he had just gone through. Grimly, Eugenia watched as Alex’s mind tried to reconcile his present with his past. She was about to leave when a familiar face caught her attention—her own—and quickly, she became engrossed in Alex’s memories.

  “So that’s how he saw me?” she concluded, as she saw herself through his eyes. She had been standing in his living room pitching a fit because he was breaking up with her. She hated that night. It had been a slap to the face. She never imagined that he would dump her half way through senior year.

  It was with more curiosity still that she saw what his best memory of her was. They had been eight or nine years old, it had been raining for days and her mom’s lawn was getting swampy. They had been playing video games inside, but on a whim they took off running and went straight for the muddiest part of the yard. They jumped and sloshed in the muck until they tore up the grass and made a proper mud pit. They were like hogs in the mire and it had been fun—that is until their moms found them and got mad at them.