The Next God

by MB Mooney

  “Go away,” he said, pushing this time with his heart, hoping he could convince this person with just the words.

  “I am not a normal man, Matthew. You cannot influence me as you do others. Open the door. I will not hurt you.”

  Matthew opened the door, slowly at first, turning the knob with the slightest bit of motion. The white, wooden door swung past him, giving him a good glimpse of the man who stood before him.

  He was a black man, of medium height and strong features. His eyes brightened even in the winter light, reflecting in the darkness of his eyes. There were no impurities in his smooth skin, no blemishes, no flaws to give this person even a hint of imperfection. Matt wondered if the sun sang African praises just to get closer to skin such as that. Smiling with perfect teeth, the man wore only a pair of jeans stained with white and black paint, a Nebraska University sweatshirt, and an old pair of Reebok tennis shoes. He looked as if maybe he was homeless. But then again, he didn't exactly look real. Matt watched him for a long time, just letting his vision soak in this person, who was content with letting Matt only watch him. Matt finally spoke.

  “Are you a - what are you?” He was about to say, ghost, are you a ghost, but thought better of it.

  The man bowed at the waist. “My name is Kalil. I am an angel. You and all you love are in terrible danger.”

  Chapter 15

  Matt took one step backwards and slammed the door in the man’s face.

  But the man, undaunted, opened the door, for Matt hadn’t locked it again, and peered at Matt through the crack of an opening. “Matthew,” he called, like a child, and Matt kept retreating, wide-eyed and wondering what he would do, why couldn’t he move faster, in more of a hurry back and away from this man? This man, calling himself Kalil, opened the door wide enough so he could slip through, without any threatening movements whatsoever, with patience and sympathy in his gaze. “I am sorry. You were not ready for that.”

  “Wha- … Who … what did you say?”

  “My name is Kalil. I am an angel. You and all you love are in great danger. Did you not hear me well the first time?” This wasn’t an insult, asked innocently.

  “You, you’re a what?”

  “An angel. Surely you know of such things. Are you unfamiliar with such beings?”

  It took Matt a moment to respond. Why was he so frightened? This was just a crazy person, right? He should call the police. But the fact was a small part of him, a small but important part, believed him. “Well, yeah, sure, but ... they aren’t real.”

  Kalil smiled at him. “Are you saying that I am not real?” Kalil extended his hand towards Matt. “You may touch me, if you wish.”

  How did he know Matt wanted to touch him? He reached out and pressed the ends of his fingers onto the skin of Kalil’s wrist. It was real, human skin, stretching with the movement of Matt’s fingers. .

  Matt looked up, into Kalil’s eyes and the face, yes, the face of an angel, part man and part perfection. Reaching up, he touched the angelic face, the skin of the cheek, brushing it with his bent fingers. He spoke without knowing it. “You’re beautiful.”

  Kalil smiled again. “Thank you.”

  “Why are you here?” Matt pulled his hand away from Kalil, embarrassed.

  “Why? I told you why. I have come to tell you that you are in great danger and must come with me.”

  “Danger?”

  “Yes, danger. Someone is out to kill you. Your fate hangs in the balance.”

  “My fate?”

  “Yes. Have you not been told of these things? Have you not been told by those who care for you what you must be prepared for?”

  “My parents?”

  “The ones who care for you.” Then Kalil’s countenance soured. “You believe these people to be your parents?”

  “Jim and Alice Walker. Yeah, my parents.”

  “They have not told you,” Kalil said, more to himself than to Matt. “Surely they were instructed … these things are tradition, have been going on for years and years, centuries.”

  “Told me what?” Matt stepped further away from Kalil.

  “My dear Matthew,” Kalil said, staring into Matt with those dark angelic eyes. “Do you not know what you are?”

  He took a sharp breath in, and he touched the area of his chest just above his heart. “What am I?”

  “For one thing, you are not the son of James and Alice Walker.”

  For a moment Matt thought that this was another dream, but it was real. It was happening. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Those who care for you, those who you feel are your parents, I am afraid they have failed you, Matthew. They have not properly prepared you for the things to come, and we must leave, leave soon.”

  “We?”

  “Yes, you must come with me, let me instruct you. We must hide.”

  “What? I’m not going with you. You’re insane.”

  “I am in full control of my senses, let me assure you. I know now that I have waited too long to come to you ... I ...”

  “It was you, wasn’t it? You who gave me the dreams.”

  Kalil sighed. “I do not have that ability. I was, however, able to stir that within you that gave you those dreams. I had no power over them. They were your own, coming from your own heart and mind. I only turned a lever inside of you, if you will, beginning a journey which you now must finish, as one of the Chosen.”

  Matt shook his head, clearing the cobwebs of chaotic thought. “You use these words like ‘Chosen’ and ‘Angel,’ and you sound like a mental patient. You must be crazy.”

  “I am not. But a madman comes for you. I am sorry this has been done to you, but you must believe me. The fate of the world depends upon it.”

  “Whoa, wait a minute. The fate of the world?” Matt reached up and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t think so. Who do you think you are? You come in here and dump all this crap on me, and you expect me to believe it?”

  “But you do believe it.”

  Matt didn’t answer.

  “You believe it,” Kalil continued, “because it is a part of you. You know that it is true. It is your destiny, a destiny I must help you to fulfill. Let me ask you a question. Have you ever felt different? Truly different. Have you ever looked around yourself and known that you weren’t like other people? I believe you have. And that is because you are not one of them. You do not belong. And you have known this, Matthew. It has been a part of you since your birth. You were born with gifts, and they will continue to grow as you do, in your mind and heart. You are one of the Chosen, Matthew. Believe and come with me, I implore you, while there is still time. It is imperative.”

  Matt had been silent throughout, watching Kalil with squinting eyes. “I think you should go,” Matt said.

  “Do not do this,” Kalil said. “Please. One decision can change the course of a life, to good or evil. And often there is no return from such a decision. Do you think the Master sends his servants and messengers back on a whim? The world, and your soul, hangs on this. I implore you. Come with me.”

  “I think you should go,” Matt repeated.

  This man who considered himself an angel waited a moment before answering. Matt almost couldn’t bear to look at him. That skin! Those eyes! Human, yet somehow not. Kalil shook his head.

  “I pray that you will heed my warning, my child. Leave this place while you still can. Call for me and I will come to you.” He began to walk out the door, his head bowed.

  And Matt watched him leave.

  Matt waited for his parents through the rest of the afternoon, pacing the room, every room, the whole house, looking at familiar furniture in an unfamiliar place. Part of him, the part that wanted to stay here, in this house, with these new friendships and this new life he had found for himself, denied every word that Kalil said to him. He denied anything about special abilities or words like “Chosen” and “Angel.”

  Angel.

  But another part of him, the one that had the dre
ams and felt the presence on the other side of the door, remembered the killer from his dreams, believed every word like it had been written into the bible of his life or chiseled into his heart, slowly, painfully. He had read every verse, seen every imprint make its mark on his life and the lack of it. He believed it, yes, with that part of him that found Kalil to be one of the most beautiful people he had ever seen, and yes, he believed that he was an angel.

  He didn’t know how or why, but these things were true.

  And he waited for his parents, for Jim and Alice Walker, to ask them the questions that burned in his mind. Are angels real? Do they come and visit you in the afternoon and tell you things about the fate of the world? Are they all beautiful men and women that you can’t keep your eyes away from, the skin, the smiles made of light from heaven? Is it normal to have these dreams, dreams in color, visions that you know mean something and scare you until you can think of nothing else but them, the things you know but somehow don’t know, waking to the realization that you’re different and strange?

  You do not belong.

  Kalil had said these words, and Matt could have said them for him. He didn’t even feel as if he belonged in his own body, how could he belong with other people?

  He heard the key rattle in the lock, but Matt had left it open. They walked through the open door.

  “Matt?” a voice said, curious. “Matt, honey? Are you home?”

  Standing in the kitchen, strangely normal with its bright colors and appliances and dishes waiting to be cleaned, he heard them walk into the living room, the same place where he had touched Kalil’s skin, the smooth, perfect, soft skin that took your breath away. And Matt listened to his heart, without asking them questions. If they had lied to him before, would they only lie to him again? He moved into the living room, listening, existing as he felt he should, and they saw him, their faces relieved and smiling.

  “There you are,” Alice said, with her dark hair and pleasant features, but they weren’t features Matt possessed. He didn’t look like his mother, or at least this person who he believed to be his mother. “What have you been doing all day?” she asked.

  “Doing homework, I hope,” Jim said, his voice low and deep, his features definitely masculine and mature, not boyish and small. Matt didn’t look like this person he had always believed to be his father.

  And Matt said the things he believed, the truth in his heart that he spent the entire afternoon doing his best to deny. “You aren’t my parents.”

  “What?” Jim asked.

  Alice was too flabbergasted to react, at first. She stepped closer to Matt. “Honey, what are you talking about?”

  He looked at his mother, this sweet creature who had cared for him. “You’re not my mother, are you? I mean, my real mother, my birth mother.”

  Alice froze, frightened. “Oh, Matt,” she said, under her breath.

  “I always knew it was different,” Matt continued. “I have a mother who spends her entire existence waiting on me hand and foot. She knows where I am every minute of every day, and she panics when she doesn’t. I always thought it was a mother’s love, overprotectiveness. Is it? Was it?”

  Matt looked at Jim. “I have a father who works, gets a new job every six months or so, transferred or given a better offer from somewhere in another town in another state. And you know what? I don’t have a clue what it is my father does. I hear words like sales and marketing, but they don’t really mean a lot when you have a father who works in an office and feels his job is done. Is it only fatherly responsibility? I always thought it was. Strange, but I believed it. But none of it’s true, is it?”

  Jim Walker made his way around Alice, putting a gentle hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Who did you talk to, Matt? What is it that’s got you so upset?”

  Their stares met. “I had a visit today. A ... man stopped by to tell me that I was different, something about how I’m in danger. And you know what?” Matt laughed, hearty and short. “He said he was an angel. Can you believe it? He actually believed he was an angel, standing right here in this living room of this house.”

  “You let him in?” Alice spoke, shocked.

  “Why not? It’s not every day you get an angel knocking on your front door to tell you amazing things.”

  “Where did he go?” Jim snapped.

  “Why all the concern, Pop?” Matt spread his arms in surrender. “It can’t be true, can it?”

  Jim reached out and took Matt by the shoulders in a firm grip. “I said, where did he go?”

  “Careful,” Alice said from behind her husband.

  Matt looked into Jim’s eyes. “He didn’t say where he was going. I asked him to leave, and he did. That was the end of it.”

  “What about his name?” Jim pressed. “Did he tell you a name?”

  “Kalil,” Matt said. “He said his name was Kalil.” Matt tilted his head to the side as Jim released him. “Dad ... Jim? Do you know who this is? Do you know him?”

  It took Jim a minute to respond, and Matt didn’t have to use any of Kalil’s supposed “special abilities” to see that he was preparing a lie. “An angel? Don’t be silly. Never heard that name in my life.”

  Matt became angry. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t you think you’ve done enough of that? Tell me the truth! Do you know this ... Kalil character?”

  “We should tell him,” Alice said, and Matt circled Jim to get a better view of her. “We’ve waited long enough. It’s time.”

  “No,” Jim said. “Not until we’re gone.”

  Matt spun around to face Jim. “Gone? Gone where?” He stood between them both now, and they closed in on him a bit.

  “Matt, honey,” he heard Alice say from behind him. “Your father … Jim has his transfer orders.”

  “Orders?” Matt asked, looking at Alice, then back at Jim. “Who orders this? That’s what it is, right? Someone calls you or writes you and tells you to move here or there, and it’s because of me. Oh, God, Kalil was right. You’re not my parents. You’re being ... paid to take care of me.”

  And he didn’t believe it at first, even though he knew it to be true and the look in Jim’s eyes told him every word he spoke was true. His mind began to numb, and he seemed to float between Alice and Jim. “Oh, my God,” was all he could say for the moment. He felt the tears well up in his eyes. Jim and Alice were silent, waiting or unsure of themselves, he didn’t know. “Who is it?” Matt asked finally. “Who ... contacts you, pulls these strings? Who is it?”

  “You’ll meet them soon enough,” Jim said. “Now go upstairs and start packing your things. We have to be in Seattle by Monday, possibly sooner. You and Alice are flying over tomorrow, the two of you. I’ll stay behind and get everything moved over by Monday, maybe Sunday.”

  Seattle? Matt shook his head, his mind racing through cities upon cities and move upon move, all the places he had been in his life. And he thought of Richard, alone at home and suspended from school for a week or more, deeply in need of a friend. And he thought of Vikki, his vision of beauty, and she wanted to be with him, wanted to spend time with him. He pictured this life, this new life built around him, a life of possibilities he’d never had before. How could he give it up?

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, collecting himself and standing as tall as he could. “I’m staying right here.”

  Alice gasped. “You can’t do that, Matt. You don’t understand. It’s not safe. Just wait here, and in the morning we’ll get on the plane and I’ll explain everything to you. I swear I will, but not until then. You need rest tonight, though.”

  “Do as Alice says,” Jim spoke, low and serious. “Go on upstairs and pack and get some sleep. You’re gonna need it.”

  “What I need isn’t in Seattle or in any other place.” He looked up into Jim’s eyes. “What I need is right here, in this place. Do you understand?”

  “No more arguments, Matt. Go on, do as you’re told.”

  And he closed his lids to these two people, people who
pretended to be his parents, pretended to love him. But they had done it for money, for money and ...

  And for what?

  He shook his head again and again at them.

  And then he ran.

  Matt turned, spinning and rushing in one moment. He felt their hands grabbing for him, clutching at his sweater and hair, but he moved too fast and sudden for them to catch him.

  He darted through the living room and out the front door.

  He met the cold night air with long strides and a weeping face and the sounds of the ones who cared for him all his life screaming after him.

  “Matt, no, come back! Don’t go! It’s not safe!”

  -----

  Richard had watched his father leave the apartment without a word. He expected him to at least yell a little bit or punish him, maybe take his car away from him or something, just something that would show Richard his father cared at least a little bit. Just a little would be nice. But none of that transpired.

  Eddie walked out of the apartment alone and quiet, worried only about what kind of cash he had in his pocket and how much it would buy at Buddy’s. He should be welcome back there now, don’t you think? And Richard had nodded, frowning, wondering when he would get the call or if he would get any at all or if this would be the night his father finally died on the street or in a ditch when he tried to drive home.

  It was still early in the evening, the channels on the television flashing light in the dark room, Richard comfortable and in another world all of his own making, wondering about his father and if he cared at all about a son who now would have probation for six months and might not finish high school at all.

  And he wondered if he would have really killed that boy, seeing Marcus being carried past him and out the front door of the school office on a stretcher. He thought in passing that maybe he wouldn’t have, but he didn’t have enough faith in himself to really believe that. Vikki had been there before, and she was there this time. She saved him from killing someone. He owed her.

  Matt had called last night, and Richard heard the caution on the other side of the line. He heard the fear, just a tinge, on Matt’s voice. The sound of it hurt him more than he wanted to realize.