When Angels Cry

Home > Other > When Angels Cry > Page 16
When Angels Cry Page 16

by Marylu Tyndall


  “He’s got a good eye,” Daniel remarked.

  “I guess I should sign him up for Little League. He never expressed any interest until now.”

  “He’s good at surfing too. Athletic kid and smart as a whip.”

  Her anger quickly dissipated, and she glanced at him coyly. “If you’re trying to win my heart, you’re doing a good job.”

  Leaning back on his palms, he smiled, charming her with that dimple of his.

  She had meant her words to be teasing, but the look on his face unsettled her, sending her traitorous heart into a rapid beat.

  She quickly changed the subject. “I remember dreams I had while I was sick. They were so vivid. I was on the beach and a tsunami was rumbling toward us, but no one was paying attention. Then, there was a pregnant woman in the stars at night, delivering a child.” She had since looked up any reference to a woman in labor in the Bible and discovered that Revelation 12 described the exact thing she had seen. But why had God shown it to her? She would have to check star charts to see if this configuration ever happened, or if it was still in the future.

  Chewing on a piece of grass, Daniel stared off into the distance.

  “Then a dragon tried to eat her child, but God snatched him away.” A pigeon landed nearby and crept toward them, eyeing the crumbs on their paper plates. “Then a bunch of meteors crashed to the earth, setting everything on fire. And worst of all, a nuclear blast. It was all so horrible.”

  “Just dreams,” he finally said. “From your feverish brain. You got up to 105, you know.”

  “No, I think they mean something. Warnings, maybe. I’ve been getting many visions like that lately. I just don’t know what to do with them.” What scared her the most was if the ones she had about Daniel were coming true, what about these more horrific ones?

  He sighed and looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “I’d keep them to myself if I were you. Things like that just scare people and get them all riled up.”

  A breeze brought the scent of fresh grass, sunshine, and Aqua Velva to her nose, and Angelica glanced at her son swinging a bat. Smack! He struck the ball, sending it flying high.

  “Maybe people ought to be a little scared,” she said. “Maybe we Christians should be warning them.”

  The pigeon continued inching toward them.

  “About what?” Rubbing the stubble on his jaw, he lowered onto his elbows.

  “The end of days. Jesus’ return.”

  Daniel tossed the piece of grass to the ground. “Oh, come on, people have been predicting His return for centuries. We aren’t supposed to know when He will come. Not the day or the hour, right? He comes like a thief.”

  Angelica smiled. “So, you do remember the passages they removed.”

  His blue eyes sparkled. “Yeah. I guess I used to be interested in that stuff.”

  “Then you should know that Jesus is only coming like a thief for those who aren’t looking for Him. That’s what the Apostle Paul said in 1 Thessalonians 5.”

  “What does it matter?” He shrugged. “He’ll come when he comes.”

  Angelica glanced to make sure Isaac was okay. “It matters a great deal. Do you know that for every prophecy in the Bible about Jesus’ first coming, there are five about His second? Most of the people missed Him the first time He came, and He chastised them for not knowing the time of His visitation. How much more will we be chastised for not knowing the time of His second?”

  The pigeon tentatively pecked at the crumbs on the plate, shook his head in a sputter, and flew away.

  Angelica couldn’t help but laugh.

  Frowning, Daniel picked up the empty paper plates and shoved them in a plastic bag. “Still, we aren’t supposed to know the day or the hour.”

  “Day and hour, yes. But what about year, season, month, or week? It says nothing about that.”

  He tied the sack and put it aside, giving her a placating look. “Even so. Let’s say you’re right. All that does is scare people or get them to stop living their lives and just sit and wait.”

  “Not true believers. It actually inspires us to get out there and warn people, save people, and get our own lives in order—to pursue good, holy lives that will please Him.” Angelica watched her son leap to catch a ball on first base.

  “We should be doing that anyway.”

  “True. But do most of us?”

  He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Let’s not fight about it, Angel. See? End times’ stuff always causes arguments. It’s frightening and divisive. Best to leave it alone.”

  He might be right about that. She’d overheard many an argument from believers who got quite heated about their interpretations on end-times prophecies. Ridiculous. “I still think it matters that we keep watch and be ready. There’s a passage that says Jesus is coming for those who are longing for His appearance. And…” Sensing his growing frustration, she slammed her mouth shut, deciding to change the topic. “I’m not sure I thanked you properly…for taking me and Isaac into your home and hiring that doctor and nurse—wait, there was probably more than one, right?—and well, for everything you did.”

  The right side of his lips quirked upward, forming that dimple again. “My pleasure.” He scooted closer, and before she could stop him, he wrapped an arm around her and drew her close. Too close, but she didn’t want to stop him. It felt good. In all honesty, she had missed the strength and warmth of a man’s touch. Especially Daniel’s.

  Pressing her head against his shoulder, she relaxed as he rubbed her arm.

  A chorus of sounds eased over her like a summer breeze—birds singing, the wind dancing through leaves, people laughing, kids playing, the distant lap of waves… all so soothing…

  Just like Daniel’s warm breath drifting over her face, reminding her of days gone by. And for a moment, just a moment, Angelica allowed herself to enjoy it all.

  He shifted and before she knew it, his lips were on hers, warm, soft, hungry. She lost control and allowed him the kiss—not only allowed it, but she returned it with equal fervor. Such a sweet kiss, gentle, loving…not demanding, urgent, or lustful. She breathed him in, her heart pounding, her body warming as his arms pressed her against his chest.

  A memory taunted her of a time long ago, in a city park much like this one. They’d been walking, holding hands, sharing, laughing…and it had started to rain. Not just rain—it poured in drops as large as baseballs. But instead of dashing to his car, Daniel took her in his arms and began to dance down the path as if they were a prince and princess at a ball. What sort of man does that? Only Daniel. They laughed and smiled and swirled until they were both completely drenched.

  And then, with water running down both their faces, he had kissed her.

  With the same intensity and love he was doing now.

  NO! She pushed away and stared at him in horror.

  Lowering his gaze, he expelled a deep sigh. “Why do you keep resisting me? I’ve missed you so much, Angel, and I can tell you’ve missed me too.” He took her hand in his. “Please, why can’t we pick up where we left off?”

  Where they left off? Where they had left off was her standing alone at their favorite restaurant, clutching a trampled, bleeding heart—a heart that bled out for over a year afterward. And she had no plans to give him the chance to do that again. Besides, it wasn’t just her heart she’d be risking now. It was Isaac’s too.

  Pulling back her hand, she moved away. “Won’t your association with a ‘cult follower’ destroy your career?”

  He rubbed his chin and gazed at her like a little boy who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “I guess I hoped to persuade you to abandon your cult.” He grew serious. “At the very least, your experience in jail should help you see how dangerous they are.” He glanced toward the baseball field. “How bad they are for Isaac.”

  Clever. Using her fear for Isaac. “What if I asked you to give up your church and attend mine?”

  “That’s different. I’m the pastor. It�
��s my livelihood. You can’t ask me to give up my job.”

  “You can find another one.”

  He snapped a hard gaze her way. “I won’t be a nobody again.”

  “You were never a nobody, Daniel.” A warm breeze swept her hair aside, and her gaze found Isaac once again. “Besides, you’re not preaching the right stuff, anyway.”

  “Really? Like what?” He laughed. “Wait. Don’t answer that. Here’s an idea. We’re putting on a play this Sunday—big production—and I’m giving a small sermon. How about you come? Then afterward, you can tell me exactly what I’m doing wrong.”

  Chapter 18

  The angel of the Lord encamps all around those who fear Him, And delivers them.

  Psalm 34:7 (NKJV)

  At Sal’s “Come in,” Angelica slipped through the door into the dingy office. The smell of vodka and cheap men’s cologne stung her nose as her eyes avoided the pinup calendar on the wall behind her boss’s desk.

  Laying down his pen, he sat back in his chair and examined her as a fox would a rabbit. She half expected him to start drooling from that evil smile that curved his lips. “How can I help you, Angelica?”

  She drew a deep breath. She might as well just spit it out. “I need an advance on next week’s pay, Sal. Being sick for a week really set me back, and I have rent to pay and other bills that are due now.” She bit her lip, silently praying he would grant her wish. Without any strings.

  She spotted the thrill of power in his eyes, the glow of authority he held in his tiny little world. Pushing his bony frame from the chair, he slunk around his desk, then leaned back on the top, not two feet from where she stood.

  His frown was as fake as the gold watch around his wrist. “I don’t know. Things are tight this month. Business hasn’t been good. You know fall is our slow season.”

  “I know, Sal. I’m just asking.” Begging was more like it, since the pleading look she gave him nearly made her sick.

  He cocked his head and spread two fingers down each side of his mustache. “You know, Angelica, all your money troubles could come to an end just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

  She pursed her lips and resisted the urge to take a step back. “And I’ve told you more than once, that’s not possible.”

  He snorted. “Of course it’s possible. You just keep turning me down.”

  He stood and attempted to stretch his frame taller than his five-foot-seven height, then slid a finger down her jaw. “I want to take care of you, Angelica. And your son. You would never have to work again or worry about money.”

  Nausea gurgled in her belly, but she held her ground. “My answer is still no. I’m sorry, Sal.”

  With a growl, he stormed back behind his desk. “Then my answer is no, too.”

  “You would deny me an advance just because I won’t sleep with you?”

  He sank back into his chair. “No. Because we don’t have the funds,” he snipped back. “Now, get back to work!” He waved her away.

  Back on the floor, tray of drinks in hand, Angelica stifled her anger and did her best to forgive Sal. Not an easy accomplishment, and certainly not something she felt in her heart. Instead, she silently prayed for him, for her finances, for God to provide her with a better job, and finally for the lost customers she served.

  So many of them were lost…so many seeking answers in alcohol, drugs, and sex. She prayed over each one. One particular man was in the process of ordering his fourth drink. He sat alone, staring at the mermaids swimming in the tank and fingering a wedding ring he’d taken off his finger. Angelica took a moment to ask God for insight, anything that would help her reach him. Shadows slithered around him, stroking him, laughing, spinning a web of darkness over his heart.

  She shook the vision away. “Maybe I can bring you a coffee instead?”

  “Why would you care whether I get wasted or not?” he mumbled without looking up.

  Hesitating, she waited for insight from above. There it came—knowledge she couldn’t possibly know filled her mind. “Because you normally don’t drink, and you hoped the alcohol would numb the pain in your heart from your wife leaving you for another man. But you’re discovering that it is only making it worse.” She ignored the stunned look on his face and continued, “There are whispers in your ears telling you to drink yourself into oblivion, to end it all, and I’m here to tell you that those are the voices of your enemy.”

  His glazed eyes stared at her as if she were from another planet.

  “I know you think all is lost,” she continued. “But there is hope. There is a God who loves you, who will never leave you, and who wants to help you. You can reach Him through His Son, Jesus, who died so you can be set free.”

  The shock in his hazy eyes faded, replaced by tears, and he dropped his gaze to the table. The shadows shrieked and retreated.

  “Angelica!” She heard Sal yell for her, and she turned to leave when the man grabbed her wrist.

  “I’ll have that coffee, Miss.”

  Smiling, she nodded, no longer caring what Sal was going to chew her out about.

  “You spent too much time with that customer when there are others waiting for their drinks!” He slammed a shot of vodka down his throat.

  “It won’t happen again.” She smiled, a genuine smile that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with what had just happened. But when she headed back toward the man with his coffee, he was gone.

  Drat. Had she reached him or had he merely gone to another bar where he wouldn’t be harassed? Fighting her discouragement, she prayed for the man as she went about her duties.

  In the break room, Angelica reached in her purse and handed a small book to Melody, who had just started her shift and was changing into her high heels.

  “What’s this?”

  “A Bible.”

  Melody swallowed and flipped it open with more reverence than Angelica would have expected. “A real one?”

  Angelica nodded. “Keep it at your home. Read it. Start in the Gospel of John. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask me.”

  “Thanks.” Her moist eyes shifted between Angelica’s. “I’m scared to have it, but I want to know about this God of yours and why He cared to save me.” She slipped the Bible in her purse, then grabbed a comb and ran it through her curly black hair. “Honestly, if He cares, why is my life nothing but a disaster? I mean”—she pointed the comb at Angelica— “two horrible marriages, this pathetic job, and raising two kids on my own with no help. What kind of God does that?”

  “God didn’t do that, Mels. You made those decisions yourself. Plus, we live in enemy territory.”

  Melody began combing again. “What are you talking about?”

  “Just read…you’ll see.”

  Greg walked in, saw them both, and went to the vending machine. Putting the comb away, Melody eased into her shoes and slammed her locker.

  Before Greg slipped in his coins, he spun to face them. “Heard about the sinkhole,” he said eyeing them both.

  Melody nodded. “I would have died if I’d gone that way.”

  He took a step toward Angelica. “How did you know?”

  Angelic lowered to sit and rest her feet before her break ended. “God told me.”

  “I’ve got to get out there. Talk to you later.” Melody sped out the door.

  Angelica looked up at Greg. “You don’t believe me.”

  He turned around and inserted his coins, punching in the right numbers for a Snickers bar. “Doesn’t matter.”

  “It does matter. What’s wrong? You haven’t been yourself lately.”

  “Nothing.” Grabbing his candy bar, he started for the door then stopped to face her. “Thank you for always being so nice to me, Angelica.”

  It sounded like a goodbye.

  “Of course. I’m here for you anytime. I mean that.” She reached out for him, but he smiled and sped away.

  The rest of the night passed without incident. Finally, Angelica traded
her high heels for walking shoes and headed out into the muggy Florida night. Or morning, she should say, for it was well past 2:00 a.m. Despite her aching feet and heavy eyelids, she smiled and gave thanks to God for small successes—namely Melody’s acceptance of the Bible, Greg noticing the miracle, and the man who had stopped drinking and left. She prayed for each one as she made her way across the parking lot. It had been crowded when she arrived, and she’d had to park far away from the door.

  A low guttural sound blasted across the sky. The same sound she’d heard just recently at the park and on other occasions. Halting, she stared into the black sky splattered with stars and wondered, not only at the sound, but at how magnificent the universe was, how vast, how glorious.

  So enamored with the beauty of God’s creation, she didn’t hear the car motor rev up or the tires squeal as a large vehicle headed straight for her.

  ♦♦♦

  Baliel stood guard beside Angelica as she gazed up at the wonders of God. This precious human never failed to amaze him. Her life was not an easy one. She was a single mother with a demeaning and tough job that left her with an aching body, exhaustion, empty cupboards, and an old junk-heap for a car. Yet she had lured so many people into the light this night—more than she realized. And here she was, after a difficult nine hours, not knowing how she would pay rent, staring up at the sky in worship.

  Baliel could well understand such unreserved awe, for he had seen the Creator, had stood before His throne and witnessed His brilliant glory—the four living creatures, the rainbow, the lightning and thunder, the Seraphim with their six wings, and the crystal river of living water pouring from beneath His feet. Hosts upon hosts of angels sang in worship to Him, simply because they could do naught else in His presence.

  But this woman had never seen the Father, had never witnessed His glory.

  And still she worshiped as if she stood before His throne.

  Amazing.

  A whisper of warning captured his thoughts—a word from above. It had not escaped his notice that the forces of darkness had grown stronger around Angelica of late. Though they were always present, always seeking a way into the fortress of light that surrounded her, this was different. More demons had been summoned, stronger demons, deadly. They’d already tried to kill her twice, once with a bullet, once with a plague. He harbored no doubt they’d try again. Gripping the hilt of his sword, he scanned the surroundings, spotting the horde at a distance, spitting and hissing at him, their hatred evident in their malicious yellow eyes.

 

‹ Prev