*Chapter Twenty-One: Without Love*
Bobby sat impatiently in the squad car, running Sam's conversation with him in his head. And as he thought, it really hit him: he had killed his own mother. His mother—the one who had brought him into this world; the one who had been there when he learned to walk; she had been the one who brought him to school on his first day. Now all of that was over. He was going to die soon with no regret and no happiness. As far as he was concerned, his life was over.
"Bobby Parmeter, ready cell sixteen," the officer spoke into the radio. Bobby listened to him and another officer contact back and forth for a few seconds. "Over and out," the policeman finally said.
"Excuse me officer," Bobby said with a brave tone. "I'd like to know what will be happening to me when we arrive at the jail." He smoothed his jet-black hair back.
"Well, son," the officer replied. "All we know right now is that we'll be situating you in a cell and tomorrow morning you will be tried in court. You better have a good story by then if you're going to plead innocent."
"Actually, officer, I have decided to plea for guilty. It's better to have the true story for tomorrow."
"You understand that you could be sentenced to the chair if you are proven guilty, son." The officer looked back at him in the rear view mirror.
Bobby nodded his head and said, "Yes, I do, but as far as I'm concerned I don't really deserve to live anymore. But even so, is it possible that I could get just a life sentence?"
"Possible, yes. But don't get your hopes up, son. This judge is quite tough—especially on youngsters like you. He made mistakes when he was a teen and wants to make sure you teens today get the lesson you deserve."
"And he thinks we deserve death?" Bobby asked in disbelief.
"Depends on your crime," was the officer's answer.
Bobby decided not to say anymore. Perhaps this would be his last day on earth, perhaps it wouldn't be. He had God now, and that was all that really mattered.
"God, I know you're there," he whispered, "so please help me tonight and tomorrow. Teach me how to love like you and not to hate. Thank you, God. Amen."
Monica slumped onto the couch, staring at her bags that she had left in one heap in the hallway. She was too lazy to pick them up; it seemed like everything that day had gone wrong. Now all she wanted to do was rest and have a cup of coffee.
"Hey, Mom, I didn't hear you come in," a small voice said abruptly. Monica smiled as Brian peeked into the living room. "Guess what? During school today, we did Science Projects. I partnered up with John and our subject was dinosaurs." Brian's brown eyes lit up with excitement.
"Dinosaurs?" Monica asked as happily as possible. "That should be fun. So what did you two do for your project?"
"We drew a picture of a T-rex and some other dinosaurs. And guess what happened?" Brian asked his mother. Monica shook her head.
"I don't know, what?"
"We won first place and got an A+!" the nine-year-old said as he jumped up and down.
"Wow. Did you tell your dad about this?" the Irish angel questioned. Brian nodded.
"Yeah. He said that tonight, we'll all go out to get some ice cream for celebration! Oh, I can't wait! I'm going to get chocolate, chocolate, chocolate, chip ice cream with…"
"Hold it," the auburn said with a laugh. "Did Dad really say that?" Brian gave an excited nod. "I'm going to have to talk to him…well, anyway, Brian, that's so wonderful. I'm proud of you, honey." Monica reached down and gave her son a tight squeeze. "Keep up those good Science grades. You're going to need them when you're older."
"Tell me about it," Rose said with a sigh as she entered the room.
"How did your exams go today, honey?" the human angel asked. "I'm hoping you chose to study last night instead of staying up late and watching TV," said Monica with a stern voice. For a moment, Rose had a guilty look on her face.
"Mom, do we have to discuss this with little ears in the room?" she asked in an obvious tone, motioning to Brian.
"Brian, sweetie, why don't you go see if Dad needs any help with supper. Huh?" her lilt rang. The nine-year-old luckily agreed and carried himself into the kitchen where Andrew was busing himself. "Now, Rose, how did you do?"
"Well, Mom, you see it's not my fault. That stupid test asked all the wrong questions in all the wrong ways. I would've gotten…"
"What are your grades?" Monica asked, this time more sternly. Her brown eyes peered at her daughter in disgust. "I'm guessing you have a report card since it is the end of the semester."
"Yeah…well, here it is," Rose said, rolling her green eyes. "But I think you'd want to hear me first before looking at those letters. They totally lie!" her teenage voice said.
"Rose, it says here that you failed Math and History class and not to mention, got a C- in English." A frown grew on Monica's Irish face. "And you say this isn't true?"
"That's right! It isn't true at all! You see, this morning, Mr. Burns gave us a review before the History test and I got all the answers right. He gave it to us from the review sheet that we took home to study. I was the only one in the class to get all the answers right. But then when the test came, my mind just didn't work. I mean look at this." Rose compared the review sheet to the test. "They asked all the questions in the wrong way!" She pointed out a certain question. "Look, on the review sheet, they asked us what the largest freshwater lake in the world was. Of course, the answer is the Caspian Sea. But now look at the test. They wanted you to tell what the Caspian Sea was and where it was located. It's all messed up! See what I mean?"
Monica stared at the test closely and managed a smile.
"Rose, honey, is this why you've been failing these tests in the past?" she asked in her Irish lilt.
"Yes…most of the time. Other wise, it's just because I didn't study hard enough." She smiled slyly and flung her blond hair behind her. "Oh, and, Mom? Mr. Burns sent home something else." Rose handed Monica a brown envelope. On the outside it read: To Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Dahline.
Monica unsealed it and scanned a short letter with her brown eyes. She sighed, frowned, and nodded. Then she put down the letter.
"Rose, get your father. I'd like to discuss some matters with you." The teenager nodded and gulped.
"Okay, Mom. This must be pretty bad if you're summoning Dad into this," she said uneasily. The human angel again scanned the letter.
"Father? How can I tell her this?"
******
Rose slammed her bedroom door behind her and leaped onto her bed in one shaking heap. Despite her curiosity, she buried her head in her pillow and let out in sobs.
Angels? Assignments? Heaven? God? What was this all about? There was something definitely going on in her parent's life that they weren't telling her about.
She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but she was so upset and wanted to listen to Mom and Dad's conversation. Then her mind drifted back to the subject that she didn't want to believe. It couldn't be true and wasn't. But it had been said that this type of thing was often genetic. Would Brian get it too? She ran the words her parents had spoken through her mind once again.
"Rose, honey, Mr. Burns has scheduled an appointment for you under our permission. You see," Monica paused and looked over to Andrew who was just as curious as Rose. "He thinks…we think that you're dyslexic." Rose's green eyes widened.
"Dyslexic…Mom, Dad! I do not have a learning disability. I don't care what you or my teachers say! I'm an normal teenager!" Rose stormed.
"Monica, when is the appointment scheduled?" Andrew asked, taking the letter his wife was holding. Monica handed it to him and looked at Rose.
"Tomorrow and one PM," the Irish angel replied sadly.
"Appointment? I'm not going to an appointment! I am not dyslexic!" the teenager yelled.
"Yes, I'm afraid you are, honey," Andrew said gently, laying a hand on his daughter's knee. She quickly threw it off and ran upstairs.
"Monica, do you really think she is?" the angel of death asked. Monica nodded.
"Yes. She showed me why she failed her test and it looks pretty obvious. I don't want her to be anymore than she does. I wish she could know that a learning disability doesn't make you weird. She can still be a normal teenager. We'll just have to put her through special courses to help her. That's all," she told her husband in her Irish lilt that, at the moment, was cheery as usual.
"I can't believe this is happening," Andrew said with a frown. "We haven't been humans for that long and all of the sudden we're dealing with things that seem…well, that seem unfair!"
"Andrew," Monica said quietly, gathering his hands in hers. "We just have to take this one step at a time—little by little. God will help us too. We can't forget that he's on our side."
"But sometimes it doesn't seem like it," he said. "I now am beginning to understand why so many humans choose to hate instead of love. It's all slowly making sense."
"Yes, I know what you mean. When we had past assignments, I often wondered why no one knew the meaning of love. Well, now I understand. They don't know love like angels do. We live in love and harmony every day." Monica sighed and leaned over to rest her head on Andrew's shoulder. He gently ran his fingers through her brilliant auburn hair.
"Maybe we should go talk to Rose now," the angel of death suggested. But the angel of truth shook her head.
"No, I think we should wait till tomorrow. And if she's ready, she may even come down for dinner."
"Yeah," Andrew agreed. "Who could miss my famous cooking?" he joked. Monica gave him a playful hit on the arm.
"Don't soak it up, Angel Boy," she said with her Irish filled laugh. "I'm not that bad you know."
"You wouldn't be if didn't poison your food with coffee," he said, refusing to meet eyes with her.
"Poison? Now I wouldn't use that term! I just add a wee flavor to…everything," Monica explained, unsure of her words.
"I know. But I think the children would prefer having pancakes with coffee beans instead of chocolate chip," he chuckled. "And so would I." The blond reached down and laid a quick kiss on her head.
"Okay. Then tomorrow I'll put a wee bit of mocha in the eggs." She crossed her arms and smiled. Andrew's emerald eyes widened and he faced her sternly.
"Not in my lifetime, honey," he said.
"I was just joking, Andy. I would never put mocha in eggs. Not a good mix. But perhaps in the milk…you know that's a perfect idea. You put milk in coffee so why not…I need to write this down!"
Before Andrew could object, the Irish angel raced to the kitchen. He rolled his eyes and sighed.
"Father, please tell me we're all out of milk!"
Rose backed up from the staircase and tore towards her room.
And that's where her thoughts stopped.
She needed to go down and have supper. She needed to ask Mom and Dad why they were talking about angels.
Slowly, she opened her door and crept down the steps. She could just barely make out Brian's young voice wailing in the kitchen, complaining about how he didn't want to eat his carrots. Rose had to laugh when Dad replied with how carrots improve your vision.
The teenager caught sight of the stream of light coming from the crack in the kitchen door. She reached for the knob, and the stream grew, slowly lighting up the whole hallway. Immediately, she met her while family's gazes.
"Rose, glad you could join us," came Andrew's gentle voice. He stared at her with loving green eyes. "Sit down. The spaghetti's still warm." He motioned toward a place set next to Brian and him. Rose nodded and wiped a tear-streaked cheek.
"Mom, Dad? Can I talk to you after supper?" she asked curiously. The two human angels nodded and exchanged happy glances.
Maybe she is going to talk to us, Monica thought.
But little did they know the conversation that would take place after supper would be much different and surprising then the two human angels thought.
******
"Brian, would you please wash the dishes tonight?" Monica asked politely in her Irish lilt.
"But, Mom, I'm only nine and…"
"And a grown up boy," Andrew interrupted, putting his hands on Brian's shoulders. "I bet all of your friends do the dishes at your age." He smiled and shot a glance at Monica who silently praised him for his swiftness. Brian rolled his eyes but decided to cooperate.
"Now, what would you like to discuss," Monica asked her daughter after the three were again seated in the living room.
"Well, I hope you won't be mad at me, but after I get upset, I always sit by the end of the banister upstairs. You know there's that little nook where the wall goes in? Well, anyway, I sat there after our talk and I couldn't help but overhear you two," Rose explained uneasily.
Andrew and Monica once again exchanged glances, but this time, their expressions were more worried than ever.
"And?" the angel of death pushed Rose on nervously.
"And I heard you two talking about angels and assignments or something like that," Rose gulped. At the sight of her parent's expression she said, "I think I heard something that I shouldn't have. Oh, me and my ears—always getting into trouble!"
"I'm afraid you did hear something that you most likely shouldn't of," Andrew said with a apprehensive tone. "But," he continued after looking at Monica. "I guess we have to tell you the truth." He let out a sigh.
"Yes, I suppose we do, don't we, Andrew?" the Irish angel asked. She glanced from Andrew back to Rose.
"The truth?" Rose laughed. "So are you guys like some undercover agents or something?" she giggled.
"Something like that," the auburn replied with a smile. "Actually…" Suddenly the room started to glow with a glorious light.
"We're angels," Andrew said, smiling at Monica who nodded.
"Angels?" Rose said, still laughing. "But you're my parents. I've known you ever since I was born. I mean, you are my real mom and dad, aren't you?" she asked unsure.
"I don't know how to explain that part. You see, a while ago, Andrew and I weren't here. We were working for God and had a supervisor named Tess. Then we had this fight that caused us to hold grudges. The only way we could learn love again was to become humans and learn a different kind of love that we have never experienced," Monica explained.
Andrew continued, "You see, true love to angels is a total odd thing. We are born in God's love and live in it daily. So to be stripped of our angelic bodies and powers is an experience like no other for us."
"This is so weird," Rose said, her green eyes searching the two angels. "So I've known you my whole life, but you have only known me for like a…how long have you known me anyway?"
"About two months," Monica said with a giggle. "It is very odd if you think about it. It's just like we were here since our human birth and got married and had two children. But yet we weren't? Oh never mind, I don't know how to explain it."
"That's because it's unexplainable. Only God knows," Andrew said.
"So, let me see if I can get this straight. One day you two woke up and you were married? Freaky!" Rose squealed. "But then that means that you have to go back to heaven one day, right?" Andrew and Monica slowly nodded.
"But, Rose, you won't even know we're gone. Though we will miss you terribly, honey," the angel of death said sadly. "Let's tell you a little bit about this angel business so you're not so confused. I'm an Angel of Death." At the look of horror that struck Rose's face, Andrew hurried to continue. "I escort people home after they die. Don't worry. I'm not scary looking or anything on duty."
"And I'm the angel of truth. I bring God's message of truth into people's lives," Monica said.
"So how many times of angels are there exactly?" the teenager asked curiously.
"I couldn't begin to tell you, Rose," Andrew said exasperatedly. He shook his head.
"That many, huh?"
"Now that you're clear on this whole thing, maybe it's time to head for bed, daughter of mine," Monica said in her Irish lilt.
"Yeah, I think she's right," the angel of death concluded.
"Okay. But first thing is first. Do I tell anyone this?" Rose asked her parents. Both angels shook their heads. Suddenly the light that had been surrounding them with glory ceased.
Andrew reached over and hugged his daughter tightly. He shut his emerald eyes so tears wouldn't stream out.
"I love you, honey," he said sincerely.
"And so do I," Monica spoke. She also embraced the teenager.
"Well, goodnight, my angelic parents," Rose joked. She took one last glance at them and ran up the stairs.
"Speaking of love, aren't you glad that we love each other again…and I don't mean with true love but a friend type of love. Even though that I do truly love you," Andrew said with a smile. Monica glanced up at him and smiled. She pushed a lock of his blond hair out of his face.
"And I truly love you too, Andy. We aren't without love any longer."
"No we aren't," he agreed.
Slowly he reached down and kissed her gently. And for a moment, they both didn't care if they never were angels again.
THE END
If I speak in the tones of angels but have not love I'm only a resounding noise.
If I have the gift of knowledge, and if my faith moves mountains high but have not love, I am nothing.
Though I know the one who holds the stars in the heavens in the palm of his hands.
And if I give all I possess to the poor and the helpless, I'm still getting nothing
Without love.
Love is patient,
True love is always kind,
Love does not envy,
Never brags,
It's always true,
Slow to wrath,
It keeps no records of wrongs against friends,
We all could use a little forgiveness.
Though I know the one who holds the stars in the heavens in the palm of his hands.
And if I give all I possess to the poor and the helpless, I'm still getting nothing
Without love.
"Without Love", Stacie Orrico
Author's note: Please stay tuned for the sequel: "A Love So Strong"
Also coming soon…"Significance, Part One"
