When Angels Cry

by Marylu Tyndall

  And he couldn’t do a thing about it, save watch…and cry.

  He’d begged the Father to reassign him to another. This post was far too painful. And lonely, Nazare might add, for most of the people Daniel dealt with had no angels with them at all. Except for Marley’s angel, Campana, who had come in earlier with Marley. The two of them had spoken briefly as they watched the proceedings, and Campana was quick to point out what Nazare had already noticed—Marley’s light was growing brighter.

  “This is good news, indeed!” Nazare had said.

  “I agree. Marley is beginning to see the truth, to think for himself, to spend time with the Father. It is good.”

  “You are fortunate to be able to watch such wonderful progress.”

  “Yes, and we all hope Daniel will soon follow.”

  Nazare drew a deep breath as he now watched Daniel sleep, the light within him barely flickering. Indeed, he must soon turn back to the Father, for time was growing short.

  Chapter 6

  And he said, “Go your way, Daniel, for the words are closed up and sealed till the time of the end. Many shall be purified, made white, and refined, but the wicked shall do wickedly; and none of the wicked shall understand, but the wise shall understand.

  Daniel 12:9-10 (NKJV)

  Angelica pulled up in front of Franklin Elementary School and parked, keeping the car running and the AC on. It had taken a week and three grand, but she finally had her car back in one piece—the window, radiator, belts, and front grille replaced, plus a new paint job. The three grand went on her credit card, that evil monster she kept trying to defeat—the one who, just when she thought she’d delivered the final death blow, rose up again with a mighty growl. Oh well, she thanked God she at least had credit she could use during an emergency. And a roommate willing to share her car while Angelica’s had been in the shop.

  All because of a Jesus sticker.

  Which was still happily displayed on her bumper. She didn't know if it did any good, but she prayed every day that when people saw it—even just the name of Jesus—that it would pique their curiosity and draw them to investigate why He was the truth, the life, and the way. After all, there was great power in that name. Something she had experienced firsthand.

  So what if she’d been persecuted? It wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last. Jesus had warned His followers that the world would hate them, and she hadn't suffered anything yet compared to her brothers and sisters across the globe.

  Glancing behind her, she smiled at Joel buckled up in the back seat, fast asleep. That kid never failed to pass out in the car. If only Angelica could do the same in her own bed, but her visions had returned. Not the same one about Daniel, but others full of violence, war, riots, and hatred—pure evil growing darker and darker covering the earth like a massive fog bank. Yet sprinkled among the darkness, beams of light shot up to heaven. Some dwindled, flickered, and were swallowed up by the encroaching darkness, but others grew brighter and brighter, shoving the evil back. She knew the lights were God’s people protected by His holy angels, some not committed enough to withstand the battle, others growing stronger each day. What she didn’t know was what to do with these visions. She’d spent the morning walking along the beach, seeking an answer to that very question, while also praying for Isaac’s safety and salvation as she did each day.

  The school bell rang and within seconds, kids dashed out of the buildings like a prison break. She couldn’t blame them. Under the new GIFP Education rules, kids only got the month of June off. Then it was back to school in July when, in her opinion, children should be swimming, riding their bikes through puddles, playing baseball…and just being kids. Angelica exited the car and stood by the door, squinting for a view of Isaac. There he was, talking with another boy. He saw her and ran toward the car, school papers in hand.

  She embraced him like he was the most precious gift in the world—which he was, an unexpected gift that had come at a huge cost. But one she would gladly pay a thousand times over.

  “How was your day?” She scruffed his hair and ushered him into the car, thankful that he still allowed her such public displays of affection.

  “Okay,” came the usual reply as Angelica slid into the driver’s seat.

  “Isaac!” A shout of exuberance reverberated from the back.

  “Hi Joel.” Isaac gave his friend a huge grin. “Hey, Mom, my friend Chris wants me to come over after school tomorrow. He’s got the new micropulse laser Soldier of Mars game and a huge backyard that looks like a jungle. Can I go?”

  Angelica’s heart shriveled at the excitement in her son’s voice. “No, I’m sorry, honey. I don’t know anything about Chris’ parents or how safe his home is.”

  “But you talked to his mom once,” he whined.

  Angelica sighed and turned to face him. “Yes, but she couldn’t assure me of your safety.” In fact, she had been annoyed at Angelica’s questions about keeping an eye on the kids, not having pornography visible, and not using bad language. Simple requests, weren’t they? Angelica would have thought another mother would have understood these things. But once it became obvious that Chris’ parents had very few restrictions, Angelica could in no way allow Isaac to go to their house.

  “Aw, Mom. I never get to go anywhere.” Isaac kicked the back of the passenger seat, a scowl dragging down his normally cheerful face.

  She turned back around and shifted the car into gear, angry at herself…angry at the world.

  “Wanna play Commando when we get home?” Isaac asked Joel.

  “Yay!” the little boy squealed.

  “After your homework.” Angelica pulled into traffic.

  “Aw, Mom. I don’t have much.”

  “Then it won’t take long to finish.” She smiled at him through the rearview mirror. “What did you learn today?”

  He was still frowning. “Lots of things. ’Bout something called communism.”

  Angelica cringed. “Really? What about it?”

  “That it’s a type of government where everybody gets to have a house and nobody goes hungry or doesn’t have food.”

  Lovely. Angelica tried to shove down the fear rising within her. “Did they also tell you that because the government takes care of you, you have no freedom to speak out against them or live your life as you choose?” Or that Communism has claimed the lives of millions of people? But she wouldn’t frighten him with that fact.

  Isaac shook his head and stared at her with innocent eyes.

  “We’ll discuss it later.”

  “They also said that the Global Initiative for Peace is trying to unite the world and bring peace to all the people.”

  The GIFP. Of course they were uniting the world—under their greedy, power-hungry leadership, in the guise of peace, prosperity, and fairness for all. In truth, their goal was to rule over the ignorant masses, to be philosopher-kings who decided where people lived, what work they were suited for, and even who was worthy of life or death. The worst part about their ideology was that they were anti-Christian. Not anti-religion, just against Christianity, because it upheld beliefs of individual freedom, the value of human life, and that people should worship and depend on God, not the State.

  She pulled into her apartment driveway and parked in her spot. “Isaac. You mustn’t listen to your teachers. Not about everything. From now on, you will tell me each day what you learned at school, and I want to see all your homework assignments, too.”

  He nodded and smiled. For now, he was compliant. For now, she could counter the false propaganda with the truth. But what about when he became a teenager and his peers and girls became more important than his mother?

  You will have to trust Me, the voice whispered deep within her, and she nodded, tears burning her eyes.

  “Mommy, why are you crying?” Isaac asked.

  “Unbuckle me,” little Joel said from the back seat.

  “I’m fine.” Grabbing her purse, she gathered the boys and headed upstairs.
r />   Two hours later, she started dinner for Leigh and the boys, the least she could do for her friend who spent the day on her feet. However, due to rationing, all she had was pasta, tuna fish, and a little bit of cheese, so she decided to make a tuna casserole. It may not be gourmet food, but it would fill the little ravenous bellies who hovered around the TV screen playing video games.

  The lock clicked, the door opened, and in walked Leigh, looking like she’d run a marathon.

  And lost.

  “Rough day?”

  “You have no idea.” Locking the door, she dropped her purse and keys on the table and spread her arms wide for Joel who was making a mad dash toward her.

  “Mommy!”

  Picking him up, she twirled him around and showered him with kisses. “I love you so much it hurts.” She set him down, and he ran back to join Isaac.

  “Hmm. What smells good?” She sniffed the air.

  “Soufflé de poisson,” Angelica replied with pomp. And when Leigh stared at her, confused and slightly horrified, she added, “Tuna casserole. Poisson means ‘fish’.”

  Laughing, Leigh headed toward the bedroom to change. “I’m sure it will be delicious! Thank you so much, Ange.”

  Angelica checked the casserole and turned down the oven temperature, then began setting the placemats and silverware on the table. The doorbell rang. A peek out the tiny hole revealed a delivery man with flowers in his hand. “Yes?” she said through the door.

  “Delivery for Miss Smoke.”

  Odd. She hesitated for a moment but finally worked through two locks and the door chain and opened it to a huge bouquet of pink roses and gardenias—her two favorite flowers.

  Too shocked to respond, she grabbed them, signed the man’s paper, thanked him, and closed and locked the door again.

  “Whoa. Flowers!” Leigh entered the room in sweats and a T-shirt. “Expensive ones. Who are they for?”

  “Me, I guess.” Angelica set them down on the table and snagged the card.

  “Oh, do tell? A secret admirer?” Leigh peered over her shoulder.

  “No.” She said absently as she read the card.

  Looking forward to seeing you again….you name the time and place.

  Daniel Cain

  “Daniel Cain, the world-famous pastor?” Leigh giggled. “I had no idea you knew the man.”

  “I don’t. I mean I used to. Long ago.” Angelica tossed the card onto the table, a frown tensing her forehead.

  “What’s the problem, Ange?” Leigh bent down to smell the flowers. “I wish some rich, famous guy would send me flowers.”

  “He’s not just some rich, famous guy. He’s—” She bit her lip. “Never mind.” Sighing, she left to get dressed for work, all the while begging God, as she’d been doing all week, to remove Daniel from her life—and more importantly—from her heart.

  ♦♦♦

  Of course even though it was a weekday night, the Mermaid Den was packed. Probably due to Sal’s two-for-one drink special. Which only made Angelica’s job all the more difficult, carrying more glasses on her tray, making more trips around the bar, and enduring more complaints about the watered-down drinks. Still, amid all the slurred propositions, drunken shenanigans, loud music, and general misery and darkness, Angelica did her best to cling to God’s peace within her. On occasion, when her feet ached, her spirit waned, and the night seemed to stretch into eternity, she spotted her angel standing guard at the far end of the room. He said nothing, merely stood still with eyes straight ahead and hand resting on the hilt of his sword. Nearly as tall as the ceiling and as wide as two men, he wore a white tunic that hung to his knees. Thick belts, embedded with jewels, sat upon his hips and strapped across his chest, embedded with jewels and housing all manner of weapons—swords, knives, axes, and other items she’d never seen before. Metallic boots covered his feet to his knees, and a helmet made of the same material sat upon his head. From beneath it, hair as light as the sun hung to his shoulders around a strong, angular face. His entire being shone from a light source all its own.

  Five years ago, when she’d first seen him, she’d fallen facedown to the floor, trembling uncontrollably. But now, whenever she was privileged to have a glimpse of him, she took great comfort knowing God had sent him to protect her.

  Even so, she didn’t seem to be making any headway tonight in sharing God’s love. Mentions of the futility of alcohol and the love and mercy of God had only gotten her insults and no tips. Finally, grabbing a soda from the bar, she headed to the break room to sit down for her allotted thirty minutes. Removing her high heels, she rubbed her feet and drew in a breath of stale air that smelled of greasy food and alcohol. The music, barely muted, thumped the walls like some angry giant trying to bust in to disturb her few moments of peace. Sitting back in her chair, she sipped her soda and began to silently pray. Sensing her angel in the room, she thanked God for His protection and then proceeded to ask for wisdom and discernment to reach the lost.

  But her thoughts drifted to Daniel and the gorgeous bouquet he’d sent. After all these years, he remembered her favorite flowers. The thought warmed her, though she tried desperately not to allow it. What did he want from her, anyway? Father, I don’t understand. He won’t listen to me. He thinks he has Christianity by the tail.

  Go see him.

  “But Father, I don’t want him near my son. Isaac has enough deception to deal with at school. Daniel will only influence him negatively, and he’s such a tender age.” Fear began to buzz around her. She could sense the demon grinding its teeth and drooling, waiting for an opening in her armor, waiting to take a bite out of her heart. The enemy knew her weakness all too well.

  Trust Me.

  “I’m trying, Father.” She bowed her head. “I’m placing Isaac in Your hands as I do every minute of every day.”

  I’ve got him.

  She nodded. And Fear abandoned her. But he would return. He always did.

  Go see Daniel. As you promised.

  Angelica didn’t have time to respond before the door opened and in walked Greg. He smiled when he saw her, took a seat, and opened a bag from In-N-Out Burger. “Aren’t you eating?”

  “Not hungry.”

  The smell of sizzling meat and grilled onions captured her nose and made a liar out of her as she watched him unwrap the burger and take a bite.

  “Crazy out there tonight,” he commented.

  “Yeah.” Angelica rubbed her feet again, seeking the Father’s wisdom on what to say to this man to help him see the light. She’d already told him the gospel, gave him a Bible, another book on God’s love, and invited him to her church.

  Lord, give me something. She sought the Spirit within as Greg continued eating. A vision flashed through her mind of a little boy, a Golden Retriever, and a woman at a park. The woman and the boy were tossing a Frisbee back and forth, trying to keep it from the retriever, who leapt up and caught it from time to time, making them both laugh.

  Greg offered her a French fry. She took two and shoved them in her mouth. “When you were a boy, you had a Golden Retriever,” she began cautiously.

  His forehead wrinkled as he stared at her. “How did you know that?”

  “And you and your mom and your dog would play Frisbee at the park.”

  He set down his half-eaten burger. “I hate it when you do this. You’re freaking me out, Angelica.”

  “Your dog’s name was Puddle.”

  He closed his eyes for a moment before shaking his head. “How do you know that?” His tone was angry.

  “God told me.” Angelica swallowed a lump of emotion. “He loves you, Greg. As did your mother. I’m sorry she died so young.”

  By the mixture of horror and agony on his face, Angelica thought she’d overstepped her bounds, and he would bolt out the door. But instead, he sank back in his chair and released a heavy sigh. “Maybe my mom loved me, but I don’t know about this God of yours.”

  She wanted to tell him more about God, but all she was heari
ng now was love him.

  So, she did. She spent the remainder of her break asking about his life, his childhood, his friends, and his dreams. Some of it made her laugh, some made her cry, but through all of it, Greg seemed to grow a bit cheerier just having someone listen to him. And care.

  Back out on the floor, Angelica’s own spirits were lifted as she prayed for Greg and then continued praying for each patron she passed.

  Until from a small table in the shadows, she caught a familiar face grinning her way.

  She halted before him, empty tray in hand. “Why, Thomas Benton. This is the last place I’d expect to see you.”

  “Been a long time, Smokes,” he returned with that fake smile of his. He ran a finger around the rim of his glass. “Couldn’t believe my eyes when you wandered up to Daniel’s church. Not after you gave me your word.”

  “I gave you my word to let him get through seminary and start his church. That was all.”

  “Hmm. So now that he’s rich and famous, you hope to worm your way back into his life, is that it?”

  “You know me better than that.” She eyed him.

  “You may not have taken my money back then, but look at you now. You’re still just a cocktail waitress.” His nose wrinkled as if she disgusted him.

  “Is there something you want? We’re having a two-for-one drink special tonight.” She smiled sweetly.

  “Yes, there is something I want.” He leaned forward, arms on the table. “I want you to stop seeing Daniel.”

  “Believe me, I’ve been trying.”

  He gave a snort of disbelief. “All you have to do is say no. Although”—he scanned her with a salacious grin—“I suppose that’s something you were never good at.”

  “Listen Thomas, I have no intention of reacquainting myself with Daniel. Now, if that is all, I have customers.”

  He grabbed her wrist. Tight. She tugged from him. “Stop seeing him or else.” Releasing her with a snap, he tossed a twenty note onto the table and stormed out the door.