Sojourner Page 12
Right now, that heart feels like it’s going to jump right out of my chest. I can’t break away from those piercing eyes, and it’s only when he softly lifts his hand and takes a step back that I can even move again.
“Why are angels even here?” That question is a two-edged sword. I’m really curious, but I’m not so sure I’m going to like the answer.
Lev swallows and the frown returns. “It really depends on the angels. Some are messengers. Some are watchers. Some are sojourners.”
“What’s that?” I ask, curious but not really sure I want to know at the same time.
“Angels who carry souls from one world to the next.”
I force myself to stand. “So which kind are you?”
His jaw clenches and he shakes his head. “Which, indeed?”
“I don’t understand.” He’s looking at me with those ageless blue eyes, making it hard to focus.
“I…I’m unlike other angels, Elizabeth. Tonight I’ll answer any other questions except those about my purpose and why I have been placed in your life. Nor can I offer answers to that which requires faith. If I do that, I remove the opportunity for you to please God.” His voice is breathless like he’s been running and I’m guessing it has something to do with the internal struggle I’m not privy to. Either way, his immediate denial of answering those questions makes those answers all the more desirable.
I struggle to swallow as he brushes his thumb across my cheek. “But why me?”
He lowers his head until our foreheads touch. “I don’t know. Even angels don’t have all the answers. We fly so close to the light and sometimes get blinded in its presence, but that doesn’t mean we always know.”
Wordlessly, I lift my hand and touch it to his cheek, the heat of his skin immediate. “I have dreamt of you for so long.”
“I know.”
I lower my head to his shoulder, liking the security of feeling my head nudged under his chin. “But they were nightmares. Why?”
He drapes his arms around me. Sitting so close in the shelter of his embrace, I feel for the first time the fatigue that drains him.
“Lev?”
“In time you will get all your answers. Please do not ask tonight. Just give me one more night. Just tonight.” His arms tighten around me as though he’s afraid of dropping me, but I don’t think that’s it.
I could ask him why angels get tired or what makes them afraid. I could ask if angels die, but I’m not sure I want to know all those answers. I suspect at least some of those answers have to do with me. At least for Lev anyway. So I ask other, less loaded questions.
“What does Lev mean?” I stare at his face.
“In Hebrew, it means ‘heart.’” One hand gently rubs my arm.
“Did you choose this form or do all angels look human?”
Despite his somber mood, a smile blossoms. “You are inquisitive, aren’t you? I chose this form. Not that it matters. The body is just transport for the soul. It serves no other purpose.”
His voice is kind, his embrace is warmth, and he has powers I cannot even fathom. But for all of these, I sense wild currents in the water that threaten us both. I am afraid. It is a nameless fear but I cannot escape it.
Lev must sense it, too, for his shifts slightly. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m afraid.”
He stiffens. “Of me?”
“No. Of something I can’t put into words.”
“Don’t be. No harm shall come to you while I’m here.” He nods to the pillow. “You should sleep now. I don’t think Mr. Maguire could handle you napping in his class again.”
I lie down and he starts to get up, but I slip my fingers around his forearm. “Please stay. At least for a little longer.”
He nods and relaxes. One hand strokes my cheek. As I stare at his beautiful face, exhaustion tugs at me, pulling me toward the blackness like a blanket over my head.
Chapter Twelve
Lev isn’t at school the next day, and the whole afternoon I wonder if I’ve dreamed the conversation we had the night before. Even now it has become a memory. It seems surreal and impossible. It’s like something that could never have transpired in daylight.
I pass through the school in a daze, unable to refrain from replaying our conversation, looking for all the things I missed before, things that should be there. More than anything I fear the things I don’t understand. Why isn’t he in school? Why wouldn’t he tell me what kind of an angel he is or his purpose? And what do I have to do with that purpose?
The questions result in burnt hamburgers that night, and Jimmie opens the window to drive away the smell despite the cold winter air. He shakes his head and stares.
“Everything okay, Lizzie?”
For a moment I don’t even realize he’s speaking. Then I nod. “Oh yeah. Everything is fine.”
“You act like you’re a million miles away.” His gaze is pointed, as though he knows what’s bugging me, but I have to call his bluff on this one. Jimmie has no idea.
“I’m fine.” I start to pull out more burgers, but Jimmie points to the fridge.
“Maybe you’d better not cook. Let’s just finish off the rest of the pizza.”
Once Jimmie leaves for work, I head upstairs and find Lev standing by my windowsill. He braces his hands on the sill to peer out into the starless night. His head barely touches the glass, and I can tell by the way his fingers grip the sill he’s far from comfortable.
“Where were you today?” I ask, closing my door.
“I had a lot on my mind.” He stands perfectly still, closing his eyes. His breath is labored, and judging from his position and the strain in his voice, he seems almost…in pain. I see his pale reflection in the glass, but his expression is guarded, unreadable, careful.
“Why are you here?” My throat is dry, and I wonder why this is so difficult.
“For you.”
Unable to take the distance anymore, I rise from the bed and cross the room. Without thought, I wrap my arms around him and lean against his back. Surely doing so will make whatever answers he must give bearable.
He gasps at my touch, his shoulders sagging, and he grips my hand tightly before gently prying himself loose. He turns but takes a step back.
“What’s wrong?”
“There are things we have to talk about, things I’m not proud of.” He averts his eyes.
“Lev, if you are an angel, how bad can those things be?”
He lowers himself to the sill, half-sitting but poised, I know, for flight should this go awry. I can tell by his dark expression he’s working on how to phrase whatever response he’s come up with, but the silence bothers me. The nightmare Lev bothers me.
“Lev?”
He glances up. “My universe is different from yours Elizabeth. You mostly view events as unrelated and good and bad based on each event alone.”
“I don’t understand.” I perch on the bed, wishing he’d just spit out the bad news. I toy with my fingernails just to give myself something to do.
“All the events in your world are part of a much bigger scheme. You don’t see the how one thing leads to or is connected to others, and if one thing is changed how the consequences affect all things. You can’t.” He lets out a weighted breath and shakes his head.
“What does that have to do with me?”
“You are my one thing. The first change that will lead to others.” He thrusts his hand through his hair savagely.
Sitting there, feeling my stomach knot, I try to imagine myself as a force of change, but I can’t see myself as being that important. It’s easier to be anonymous, part of the backdrop instead of the foreground.
“Why me?” I finally manage, feeling as though I can hardly breathe. It’s like my body is imploding, a million little charges firing at once so all I am sinks within itself. In some ways I can’t help thinking that would be easier.
“In many ways, we’re alike. You do as your told most of the time and don’t question the rule
s. But even though you do that, you feel as though you’re never good enough, that you never belong and that no matter how much time passes, you might never understand your existence.”
“But you’re an angel.” I say those words as though they should clear everything up.
“Even angels have souls. They are born with free wills. And even angels sometimes disobey because they don’t understand the necessity or sense of rules, and they want what they want.”
I reach out and touch his arm. “And what did you want?”
“To do my job. To carry souls from this world to the next. But perhaps I was too good at it.”
“Too good?” He still won’t look at me. Goosebumps stipple my arms and I cross them over my chest. “I don’t get it. Is it me?”
“Yes…and no.” He leans back, taking my impatient look and a bitter laugh escapes. “You want everything to be simple, and it isn’t. Nothing about this life or any other is simple…in either of our worlds.”
“What about my nightmares?”
“You definitely pick the hard ones first, don’t you? They aren’t dreams, Elizabeth. They’re memories.”
“Not my memories. They’re someone else’s from a long time ago. A time before I was born.” I see my face, yeah, but it’s not me. It can’t be. Because if it is, I don’t know who I am at all. And that scares me more, perhaps, than dying.
“Souls have memories. Yours carries images of past lives. The day you previously died—November 27, 1868 at Black Kettle’s camp.” Chills race through me and I start trembling violently as the images click into place, more vivid now than ever. I can feel the snow on my cheeks, the blood on my face. If it was real, then….
I open my mouth to scream, but Lev quickly grabs me and places a hand over my mouth. I start to struggle against him, but his hands are strong as he lifts me to him, his arms holding me fast. White-hot light encircles us, and for the first time, I see the shimmering for what it truly is, the blinding white of his wings as they wrap about us, surrounding us, in a wash of light and heat that makes Lev’s hair burn white. His skin glows, and as his wings entwine about our bodies, his eyes envelop my soul. I can’t look away.
“Calm down, Elizabeth. The soldiers can’t hurt you here.” His voice is deep and resonant, and the timbre of it seems to reach straight to my core. I watch his mouth, but his lips don’t move.
“How are you….” I keep trying to look around. Panic claws at me until I feel as though I can’t breathe.
“It’s the connection between us.”
I think I feel us moving, but I can’t tell for sure because of the canopy of his wings what is happening. Lev holds me completely still, but that doesn’t affect the inner me who is all over the place. I feel the world tilt and realize we must be lying down. I still want to strike out, to run, but I can’t. Looking into those timeless eyes, I can’t move.
“Sleep, Elizabeth, and don’t be afraid.”
My eyes grow heavy and all the panic starts to wane. I can’t remember now why I wanted to flee. I only remember the sound of my body breathing and the ocean of Lev’s eyes, warm Caribbean water washing over me, sweeping the turgid emotions far out to sea where I can forget them, at least for the present.
A warmth washes over me as I slowly open my eyes. Where am I?
In the soft glow of Lev’s body, I lie draped in his arms. His closed eyes suggest sleep, but then, as our previous conversation comes back, I wonder if angels sleep. All around us, I finally see what the light has hidden for so long, huge white wings that have cocooned around us so that there is only Lev and me in this moment.
“Lev?” I whisper. My hands rest against the planes of his bare chest, and I feel so warm nestled there, as if I were always meant to be here.
His eyes open slowly, and his lips turning upward bit by bit. “Elizabeth.” He leans forward and kisses my forehead. “You look better.”
“It was the thought of the nightmares. I couldn’t bear reliving them again, knowing….”
“Shhh.” His lips linger at my forehead.
Unable to stop staring at the wings around us, I reach out and touch one, my fingers brushing the soft feathers. “I feel like we’ve been like like this before.” My heart is racing.
“When I saw what the nightmares were doing to you, I came to you each night.” He lifts his hand and strokes my cheek. “I wrapped you in my wings and nudged you deeper into sleep where the life you lived before couldn’t find you. As long I as I remained beside you, you slept peacefully.” His blue eyes cloud over as his lips shift to a frown. “You were exhausted. I couldn’t stand by and watch the past destroy you.”
“How is this possible?”
“There’s more possible than you’d ever believe. There is so much that lies beyond sight--so much.”
“Were you really there…when I died? In every dream, I saw you.” I catch his hand and hold it between both of mine.
He takes a deep breath and nods. “Yes.”
I start trembling again. “Why did you watch me like that?” I can feel the pain and fear washing over me again, threatening to drag me down.
“I was wrong,” he whispers. “I believed that my Father wanted blind duty.” He carefully removes the bracelet and slides it into my palm. The silver is warm from his skin. “Do you remember what Lev means, Elizabeth?”
“Yes.” I grip the bracelet as though it’s all I have left to hold onto. “Heart.”
“I came here 700 years ago to be an angel of death. My duty was to deliver those who were leaving this world. And I did it. But I was indifferent to those souls. I had no heart. I had no love. I had only responsibility and duty. My Father knew my flaws. He knew how to smooth the rough places. But the ultimate cost was mine. And for that I will never forgive myself.”
He blinks, and his wings slowly disappear. My room shifts back into focus, from the books on the shelf to the stuffed animals my parents had gotten me when I was little. All these things that I once loved now hold no interest for me. Lev’s all I know, and no matter how tangled things become, I will not let go.
“What is my part in all of this?”
“You were my teacher.” Lev slowly stands and walks to the window. As I watch him, I see the familiar shimmer of his wings. His bare back glistens warmly as he reaches for his shirt and slides it on.
“I don’t understand.”
“You have lived six previous lives, Elizabeth. In each one, you died at the same age under similar circumstances, and each time, my Father put me somewhere in your life, knowing that even an angel who asked for nothing but responsibility could not keep watching you die and carrying your soul away, especially not when it was you, Elizabeth. You taught me about a kind of love I never imagined. Time and again, in each life, you offered me love and trust, and I couldn’t understand how you could open up your heart to me over and over. The last time, you died in my arms and I wept. I begged for one more chance. Just one.”
“That’s not what I saw in my dreams.” I keep remembering how he watched me die.
“Your dreams are mixed from different incidents.” He exhales a shivery breath and tears shimmers in his eyes then overflow. The light seems to explode in his tears. So bright. Then he brushes his hand across his face, but more come. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I’m so sorry it took me so long.”
I remember what he’d said about consequences and curiosity, and it is then the image of Lev standing just beyond the soldiers comes to me. I bring my hand to my mouth and try to focus on biting my nails because everything he says makes no sense at all. My lips part but no words come. What in the world could I give as a response?
Lev takes an unsteady breath. “I wanted to tell you, Elizabeth, but how could I explain? You had to figure it out first, and I knew you would.” He steps towards me, but I hold my hand up to keep him back.
“I think you’d better go,” I whisper, starting to shake. I don’t want to know this. I want him to take it all back as if he’d never said it. I wan
t the dream Lev not to exist. But he does, and I feel adrift once again.
“I know this is hard. And I wish I’d been so much better to start with. But I’m not perfect. Just give me a chance. Please.”
“You should go.” I walk from him, still trying to wrap my thoughts around this nightmare. The peace from lying nestled in the sanctuary of his arms quickly dissolves. I fold my arms across my chest and try to get warm.
Why me?
“We still have more to talk about, Elizabeth.” He steps toward me again.
“Go!” I tell him, backing up, knowing that if he touches me with those hands and looks into my eyes, I’ll lose the edge of this anger. Maybe this pain will resurface, maybe it won’t, but I’m just not ready to give in and let him just soothe away something so inconceivable.
He shakes his head. “Before you lash out at me, just remember that you asked,” he says softly. “I’ll call you tomorrow and see how you’re doing.”
I want to tell him not to, but words are beyond me. As he leaves, I sink onto my bed, feeling more alone than ever. How could he have kept this a secret? I start shaking and I rock back and forth.
“I thought I knew you,” I whisper, feeling the first sting of tears streaming down my face. I slowly lie down on the bed and roll into a fetal ball as the storm of emotions hits, leaving me breathless. I want to remember Lev’s eyes as he held me this evening. But all I can see is the darkness swirling around me, threatening to draw me under with the riptides tugging at my body.
Chapter Thirteen
Most of the night passes in a blur of dreamlike images. Some were from the nightmare, while others were all but unrecognizable, making me wonder if they, too, were fragments from other lives. The one distinct aspect of all the dream threads was fear.
How could he watch me die over and over?
When I pull myself from amid the warm comforter, I rise to a steel sky and frothy morning. A hard frost has latticed the window and the grass gleams a dull, unsteady white; my Jeep’s windows are completely covered, meaning before I head to school, I’ll have to clear them. My throat aches and my head feels as though it’s stuffed with rags, and I know it’s because I spent lots of time crying last night, both awake and asleep. I keep trying to find answers, but maybe there aren’t any.