by David Risen
She leaned toward him. “So why separate them by making some male and some female?”
Ben held up a finger.
“When Father initiated creation, he inserted a man and a woman into what you would call the Garden of Eden. One of them was a man that your Bible calls Adam, the other was a woman that Jewish Folklore calls Lilith.”
Her mouth fell open.
“That’s real?”
He nodded.
“But much happened before this. Many different rounds of creation came to pass each with different adversaries, and different saviors. In many of the previous temporal realms, Father chose a different child to be the first man. Father called him by a name that is so complicated that even its meaning is difficult to put into words in your tongue. The closest way to recite it is to say that it means ‘light of the morning, first light, star of the morning....”
Amelia’s eyes bulged. “Lucifer.”
Ben gives her a look of foreboding.
“Lucifer became prideful and his spirit hardened, over the previous rounds of creation, and before this series of creation began – a clean slate with all new children – Lucifer openly questioned Father’s judgement. For his iniquity, Father took his title as first man from him and gave it to a new child, the one you call Adam, and for his mate, Father gave him Lucifer’s spiritual other, the woman called Lilith.”
Amelia’s mouth fell open. “Why would he do that?”
Ben shook his head. “Father has perfect judgement, and he thinks of everything. This is not only training for the children of this mortality but Lucifer as well.”
Amelia didn’t know what to say.
“Lilith rejected Adam,” Ben continued. “The Celestial Spirits all viewed that as a failure in creation, but The Great Spirit accounts for everything, and even that had a purpose. The angel Lucifer rebelled with Lilith,” he said holding up his finger, “this was exactly as Father intended.
“He slipped into the garden and viewed Adam in all his misery as he labored on his own, and Lilith and the angel took each other as husband and wife.
“One afternoon, after Lilith fell asleep in the arms of Lucifer, Father slipped into the garden and called out to her, and she appeared before him flustered. Father called out to Lucifer to present himself from the trees, and Lucifer who was ashamed came out. Father eyed him sternly, and said, ‘You have taken what I’ve created for mortality and perverted it, and for that I shall take your body, and you shall not enter this mortality.’
“Father eyed Lilith. ‘You have spurned the man which I have created for you, for that, you will leave the garden and go to mortality. You will live until the end of days always knowing that your other is always near, but you will never see him, never touch him, and never hear him. You will take man as husband, but you will resent him as will all your offspring and this will cause you and all your daughters and sons great sorrow.’
“And The Great Spirit sent her to mortality. He found Adam tending to the garden in loneliness and sorrow, and he caused him to fall into a deep sleep. He split Adam’s spirit in two as he did with all other mortal souls. The hosts of heaven believed he did this so that mortals will spiritually desire one another, but this was but one of his reasons.
“If you cut a person’s arm off, the other arm must grow stronger to carry the workload. Most mortals do not get to meet the other half of their spirit in Mortality. Either the soul is born decades before or after them, in a completely different area of the world, or in a completely different age. The purpose of this was to cause the children to rely on one another – so that they would love someone else not related to them so that when they are reunited they are all much more powerful. This all teaches love and humility.
“Without sorrow and strife, the children cannot grow. Father knew this. This is why there are many things in mortality that are meant to be, but not always meant to be.”
Amelia squinted. “Why are you telling me all of this?”
Ben leaned forward. “Because you have forgotten how to love, and you will not be reunited with Father Compassion, who is your true mate, until you remember.”
“I know how to love,” she insisted.
Ben gave her a knowing smile. “Do you?”
“I love you. I love Rider’s daughter....”
“And you love Father Fury, but your pride will not let you show him. Father Fury is spiritually starving, because everyone who professed to love was false.”
She shook her head. “But I’m taking him to meet the Abysmal Matron.”
He nodded. “Yes, Mother Chaos, but you will not reach her if he starves first.”
He leaned forward. “Some things are meant to be, just not always meant to be. And the Great Spirit accounted for everything.”
Ben sat back.
Amelia couldn’t believe her ears.
“Mortal life is abysmal. There are few pleasures in it. Love – real love – when it’s mutual is the greatest power we hold here. It’s also the highest need of all spirits, and it’s the only power that mortals can make that lives after them.”
“I don’t understand.”
He nodded.
“Love is a virtuous energy. It’s patient, it’s humble, it’s honest, it doesn’t judge worthiness, it forgives, it’s merciful, and empathetic. Love cannot exist where there is no virtue. Virtue is the most difficult thing for mortals to learn.”
He allowed his words to hang in the air for a moment, and then he stood and started for the door.
“Viracocha?” she said.
He turned and looked upon her with his intense eyes.
“I really do love you.”
He smiled. “I know.”
He paused for a moment with his eyes welling up.
“Just bring my father back this time. The misery in this world is choking out all the love, and Father is the only one who can fix it. This tree is dying to the point that nothing will grow here very soon.”
Amelia lingered in her room a bit longer digesting everything Ben Viracocha said and brushing her hair in long, gentle strokes.
At last, she placed the brush on her desk and padded out into the hallway for the third door down on the right.
As soon as she stepped into the hall, bits of music wafted out at her.
“Fake Plastic Trees," by Radiohead.
Amelia placed her hand on the doorknob.
She wiped the tears away and opened the door.
Rider, who had been sitting on the side of the rod-iron, King-size bed with his face buried in his hands looked up.
His face was puffy.
His chin twitching.
His cheeks stained by tear tracks.
“What’s wrong, Rider?”
He looked about the room with helplessness written all over his face, and then he slammed his fist down on the scratched-up oak side table beside his bed.
“This whole thing fucking sucks!”
Amelia closed the door behind herself and stepped inside.
“I’m sure there’s been someone along the way that meant something to you.”
He shook his head. “All of them!”
His mouth said anger. His eyes said fear and sorrow.
“My mother had a frozen bolder for a heart. My wives were just looking to control me for selfish reasons. So what the fuck is wrong with me? Why am I not worthy?”
Amelia took another step toward him.
“Do you realize that you’re not alone? Everyone I’ve ever gotten close to has either died, or I had to run.”
Rider nodded and turned up his palms.
“So, what’s the fucking point to all of this?”
Amelia slipped the shoulder straps on her nightgown off. The silk nightgown fell to the floor in a heap revealing every inch of her.
“Will I do?” she said.
Rider’s mouth fell open, and then his surprise turned to anger.
“You don’t give two shits about me. I don’t want pity!”
Sh
e stepped across the room, climbed on the bed, straddled his lap, and pulled his face even with hers forcing him to look in her eyes.
“I love you, Rider.”
And then she kissed him hard.
At that moment, Rider and Amelia ceased to exist. A sensation like electricity surged through both so powerful that their skin began to glow.
And somewhere, Amelia realized that not only would Rider do, but so would she.
Part Three:
Something Wicked
“DADDY, ARE YOU AFRAID OF DYING?”
Blake Rider sat on the porch swing with his eight-year-old daughter in his lap staring at the Pathfinder that would likely take him to his doom.
He looked at his daughter with her long, brown hair – staring back at him with wide, expectant eyes, and realized this might be the last time he ever saw her.
His eyes welled up.
“Yes, I do.”
She placed her hands on each side of his jaw and turned his face toward hers.
“Are you crying?”
He turned his head away and looked past the porch toward the faded, black Pathfinder where Amelia said her goodbyes to Big Chief Jesus Christ, and suddenly, the matter struck him as totally absurd.
He began laughing even as the tears streamed down his cheeks.
“What’s so funny, Daddy?”
He shook it off.
“I guess laughing is better than bawling my eyes out.”
She turned his head back around and forced him to look into her green eyes.
“Don’t be sad, Daddy,” Aurora said. “Even if you die, I’ll see you soon in the Spirit World.”
Rider gave her a screwed-up look.
“How do you know?”
Her expression turned starkly serious.
“When I was that other little girl and I died in the wreck, I was scared and sad because I thought I’d never see you and Mommy again. But then the child told me that you were very important and that I would see both you and Mommy in heaven. He even gave me a message for you, but he told me not to tell you until you told me the truth about being afraid.”
Rider’s mouth fell open.
“And what was the message?”
“Don’t be afraid. Don’t be mean for no reason, and make sure you’re always coming from a place of love – even when you have to do angry things.”
Rider sniffed and looked away.
About that time, Amelia and Big Chief Jesus Christ approached the railing.
Amelia’s eyes beamed with hope for the first time since he’d known her.
Rider eyed her and then nodded at Big Chief Jesus Christ who stood with his thumbs hooked in his ridiculously gaudy belt buckle.
“Are we about finished here?” Amelia said.
Rider’s face tightened with resolve. He looked at Aurora and brushed her soft, left cheek gently with the back of his index finger.
“I’m going to have to go away for a little while,” he said.
She touched the tip of his nose.
“Don’t be scared, Daddy.”
He gave her a look of regret.
“I may not be able to come back.”
She nodded.
“If you don’t, I’ll save a seat for you in heaven.”
Rider laughed.
She kissed him on the cheek, and he looked away just before a tear dripped from his left eye.
She climbed down off his lap and trotted back inside. When she was gone, he looked at the two adults standing on the other side of the railing.
“Sometimes, I want to hate God for all the mean-ass shit he does to me, but then he goes and gives me a little girl like that.”
Big Chief Jesus Christ laughed viscerally.
Rider stood, and climbed down the stairs toward the Pathfinder, but just as he passed Amelia and Ben Viracocha, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.
He turned to find Ben’s intense eyes smiling at him.
“Father Fury, the Great Spirit doesn’t hate you any more than he hates himself. And he doesn’t put men through trials out of sheer meanness.
Rider furled his brow. “Yeah? And what the fuck am I supposed to learn from this cocktail of ridiculousness?”
Ben gave him a sad look. “This one is not for you. You’re here to mercifully liberate the children from mortality.”
Rider’s shoulders slumped. “Why me?”
Ben bunched his lips. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve asked myself that same question?”
Rider nodded without looking at him.
“I’m sorry,” Rider sighed.
Ben thrust out his hand.
Rider shook it.
“I can’t wait to see you again, my friend,” Ben said.
Rider didn’t know what to say.
People were so much more than a Credit Score, a list of bullet points on a resume, or a psychological profile.
One of the things that Lauren Fields-Rider respected about The Sisters of Divinity was that they all understood that life was a journey, and at no point during it had anyone reached their destination until death.
Lauren’s file folder was respectful and offered a neutral insight by listing, in careful detail, all the people she had been in her lifetime.
Her father, Connor Fields, was a drunk and a scoundrel who physically assaulted her mother until – one day when she was only three – her mother simply packed her bags and disappeared leaving the children behind.
From the time, she was a small child until she was a pre-teen, she spent all her effort hiding her father’s neglect and cleaning up his messes in hopes that she could at least keep up appearances.
People really hated Connor Fields.
He slept with married women. Over a dozen families crumbled because of Connor’s unsavory romantic exploits.
He swindled people out of their money. He worked for a used car lot hiding serious mechanical issues from prospective buyers. He spent time in pool halls hustling. He worked for a bookie collecting bad debts.
It was no big surprise when he turned up beaten to death when Lauren was only eleven.
The Catholic Church in the small Texas town where she grew up took her in and so did the Sisters of Divinity.
The reasons behind her nearly unanimous election by the High Sorceresses to the office of Grand Arch Sorceress had little to do with her power and more to do with her brilliant damage control abilities.
The door to the office opened, and Lauren’s new First Counselor, Maria Zottolli – also the seer of the high matriarchy stepped inside.
“The subjects for rituals in the ceremony room are waiting.”
Lauren closed her file folder and sat it on her desk.
“Are we absolutely sure about the subjects?”
Maria gave her an uncomfortable grimace, but nodded. Signaling that she had reservations.
“Polly is a woman very dangerous. As former Grand Arch Sorceress, she has wards protecting her that we cannot break. Her spirit, she is angry and wishes for release. Claire Jacobs, she will be tormented by the judgement of the Conciliator Matron unless we free her.”
Lauren sighed. “I don’t like this, but I guess it’s for the best. I’ll get changed.”
Lauren stood and started for the door to her private rooms.
“We finda the vessel for the adversary.”
Lauren eyed Sophia with dread.
“Do we have him?”
Maria’s eyes just now said anger and defiance, but her mouth said resolve and submission.
“We sinda him ahead to Tennessee. We go after rituals.”
Lauren nodded.
“Any word on the whereabouts of the shards and my daughter?”
Sophia gave her a troubled look.
“They’ve disappeared. She no use debit card. We know she drives old, black truck, but we don’t know what kind. Policia look for them, now.”
Lauren sighed and looked down at the tiled floor. The thought of her daughter being caught up in the sto
rm she was about to call down made her want to cry, but it was this or lose all of mortality.
The great entertainer, Elvis Presley – styled “The King of Rock ‘n Roll by his fans and publicists – now older and puffy-faced with a crazy mop of dyed-black hair and thick, sideburns that covered the entire sides of his face down to the jaw – adjusted his giant belt tasseled with gold chains and considered his audience.
He stepped to the center of the glossy, gray runway on the stage. Neon black and red bars on the backdrop glowed as the horn intro into his song began.
He looked lethargic in his white, flying Eagle jumpsuit with the Hawaiian flower necklaces around his neck.
What few would know until after his death was that he spent the preceding days leading up to this momentous global broadcast working out the details of his divorce which had torn his heart out.
As the intro ended, he assumed a fighter’s stance, closed his eyes, and bowed his head into the black foam cover of his silver microphone. Somberly and with an age-worn voice, he began the first verse of “This Time You Gave Me a Mountain.”
“Give me a break,” Amelia said.
Rider flashed an irritated frown and then pressed the sleep button on his new LG Leon.
“It’s the King, and it’s relevant.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s just a song, Rider.”
Rider peered over the gray dashboard and out the cracked windshield into the beautiful day beyond.
“Are we going to stop for food anytime soon?”
Amelia shook her head.
“I’d rather not. I want to drive straight to Greeneville where we’ll spend the night in a motel, and then we’ll head straight to Skitts Mountain first thing in the morning.”
Rider shook his head. “You know they’re comin’ after us with all they’ve got anyway. We should just take it slow.”
She glanced at him.
“I want to minimize our exposure. Besides, I’m not afraid of Angels or Demons. I know how to defeat them now.”