Chapter 22

The Perils of Forgiveness


I thought the dreams would recede, at least for this one night, as I thought I had found what I needed but instead they were replaced with vibrant images of whole cities burning to the ground that I had never seen before and moments of time that I had never experienced. Cries of agony and war filled my ears and the taste of sweet crimson copper filled my mouth. This was my destruction, but instead of being horrified I felt the urge to scream into the burning night in joy at my victory for demolishing the lives of my enemies and obliterating their homes. I was a goddess of pain and hate as I felt the adrenaline from centuries past climb through my numb body as if I were a lifeless doll being pumped with fiery blood.

This was my true domain, the endless screeches of terror into the smoldering city rang through my ears like a beautiful symphony of catastrophe as I relished in conquering my weak enemy with a slightly sick, twisted smile playing across my lips as my face was filled with utter delight at their misfortune. My mind began to loose it's grasp on these events as the scene started to blur as if I were no longer looking through my eyes, and as it began to fade into the oblivion of darkness melodic voices laughed maniacally, speaking in unknown tongues. Their voices were like fireworks that shot out of the pitch to overlap and fade, dancing through my thoughts in different tones and volumes until finally a recognizable verse in the background continued in repetition, getting louder and louder until it was the only voice that existed, ending it's reign with a blood curdling shriek that could have made my ears bleed "WAKE UP CHARLIE!"

--

I was drenched in a cold sweat as my naked flesh was sticky with humidity and my bright eyes flipped open with unwavering fear flickering intensely within them, causing my whole body to slightly vibrate as it was locked in with shock. It took me quite some time, but I was able to concentrate on the blank ceiling above me. Staring intently at the randomized speckles that dotted the eggshell white plain hanging above me, I zenned myself out in an attempt to calm my breathing and settle my shaking body enough to realise there was an arm draped lazily over my abdomen. Picking the arm off of me slowly, I narrowly escaped his sleeping form from waking up as I quickly through on the boxers and tank from the night before.

Padding over to his still figure silently, my lips gently brushed his forehead before I grabbed my keys and a clunky pair of Warren's old beach flip flops from the open closet. Slipping out of the door, I noticed the sun was just rising through his window and knew his mother was only possibly awake. Without hesitating, I swiftly treaded down the stairs bare foot and out the front door, as soon as I closed the door I slipped the 'too large for me' sandals on and sprinted to my car. Once I was seated in the tank, I grabbed the lithium and dryly took another dose while rummaging through the center console and glove compartment for a new pack of cigs. Although I found three torch zippos and my wallet containing the fake I.D and a few bills I realised there were none, so I turned the key and the old beast fired up roaring into the still morning.

On my way through the silent streets to the corner store, where chirps and caws called out from there resting places as leaves bickered in slight wind, I slowed to a crawl as the image of St. Theresa's Cathedral with it's high towers and ancient stained glass windows depicting saints and angels blossomed into my eyes fully. An aching filled my joints while my heart strings felt a tug and as if there were muffled cry behind a thick satin curtain from the Paris Opera House, a distant phantom of need appeared and dragged me to park my car and enter the large mahogany doors that had seen ever color of pain.

It was dark, sly for a few flickering candles burning at the prayer alter that release minimal glow and two large hanging chandeliers glowing dimly. Although the morning's light began to slip it's way into the elaborate windows, all was quiet and as my silent footsteps grew closer to the front a heaviness came over me like thick tar sliding, and covering my insides with black mess. I got as close the front as I could and kneeled down in the first aisle clasping my hands until my knuckles were white and I was loosing feeling, then the tears came not the ugly ones that I usually had, but soft tears that left salted watery pathways down my face and off my nose and chin.

Somewhere inside of me I felt that I should be begging for mercy and forgiveness, but I had no idea why. Just this horrible bullet wound in my soul that had been stitched up without removing the bullet. Unbeknown to me, a lone figure had slid in behind me with dark watching eyes to witness my pitiful act of prayer. His voice rang out clearly with elegance and without an echoe off the strange walls as he stared at the large Crucifixion hanging before him " Forgiveness," he started pausing to put together his words, "is a priceless gift. Almost unattainable for some."

Looking up with wide bloodshot eyes, I saw an angel, as beautiful as a thousand sunsets in paradise and eyes fiercer than the violent seas rising and crashing together as light in the sky illuminates it's darkness. Remnants of tear pathways dried in the cold, stale air leaving salted snakes across my cheekbones that tingled and burned slightly as my heart slowed the pumping of my blood and a fire within the aching darkness of my being shed a tear of faint light. Earlier my knees felt as if they were going to buckle, but somehow I retrieved myself from the kneeling position and stood straight, confident of myself looking into his face.

The faint light within me hummed with a familiarity for him, although I knew little of who he was from my travels, I felt myself lifting one hand steadily towards his face urging myself to remember. Every piece of matter that made up the existence that is me screamed as if I had known everything about this man for centuries, but before my fingers could touch his face he gently grabbed my hand and turned completely toward me. The words trickled out of my lips like light rain on a window sill in spring, hiding a sensitivity and pain that was unknown to me, " Are you...Gabriel?"

His eyes never touched mine as he continued to look down, but cautiously he loosened the grip on my hand and gently placed my palm on the hollow of his cheek. The lids of my eyes were tightly closed as I felt something from the darkness calling out, clawing it's way to the surface from this familiar touch, but with everything I had I resisted it's pain and temptation and ripped my hand away backing away slowly. His eyes stared directly through me, penetrating my defences and stopping me in my tracks to search within me as he began to speak again, "I've waited a long time for you."

I bit my lip slightly and replied softly into my breath exhaling the question as if it sucked the wind out of me, "How long is that?" My eyes searched his face eagerly as the corner of his mouth twitched upward almost in a humorous way, but disappeared as fast as I saw it.

"Sit," he commanded delicately and my legs crumbled beneath me as I dropped into the pew a few feet in from of him and stared with slightly wide eyes at his presence. He looked down at himself and straightened the black suit he was wearing, smoothing the nonexistent creases or lint off the bottom of the jacket and pants before readjusting his crisp white tie that stood out against his suit. His shoes clicked against the stone floor as he placed himself beside me and silently returned to staring at the Crucifixion as my eyes rested on him patiently in the thick silence between us.

" I first met you in Babylon, a couple millenia ago, as one of the leaders burning it to the ground and I have followed your ghost across the ages," I could almost hear his heart breaking as he appeared to stop breathing momentarily, " I imagined you in every age, wherever I went, seeing a whisper of you in a market in Rome or on a boat in Paris. Always a memory, never tangible, something existing only to be just out of my reach."

"I have walked the sands of time and bled on every shore of every continent seeking solace from myself and forgiveness from God dying over and over again just to be reborn with the same face and memories as before. I am a statue of time, a crumbling mind within a shell that will never find peace," his voice smoothed over every bit of tension as he spoke although his words were in some way painful to hear. Standing abruptly, he reached into his inner pocket and retrieved an envelope, setting it in his place. Clearing his throat he continued, " Congratulations, they were impressed with your work in Washington."

His other hand had been holding something with a vice grip until his knuckles were white and as he turned his back he released the object from his grasp onto the pew beside the envelope and disappeared as quickly and silently as he appeared. Looking down, I recognised what it was, it was the ring on the chain that Warren had left me as a clue a few months prior. My fingers reached out to the cool metal and I automatically unclasped it and placed it around my neck before picking up the sharp edged envelope addressed to no one. As I held it curiously, almost not daring to open it, my eyes wandered to the same place his were just moments before at the wooden depiction of Jesus with his face contorted in agony while he hung from the cross.

"What the hell just happened?"