(2) The Encounter

Years slipped by without a single contact with Jonathan. Mark had been trying to continue the good work on his own but he had to change his approach. He no longer had an angel revealing assignments to him & the Boss would answer much more obscurely. Mark also had to be careful to not get into anything too dangerous since he didn't have the 'stuff' as he had called it & didn't have someone with him anymore who had it. He found assignments through the news or local papers, constantly looking for anyone who may need something, but instead of having an angel with information on the subjects, Mark had to do research first before making an approach. Occasionally even that failed.

The sad day came when Mark had to say goodbye to another old friend, though he was loath to get rid of it. The poor car was looking so helpless by now, limping along on its over-worked axles. Mark could swear he would see the headlights droop whenever he looked in the car's direction, as if telling him it was more than time to go.

But he & Jonathan had been everywhere in that car. It was really the last piece he had that was a bit of their partnership. No, wait, not the last piece. Mark suddenly turned & ran back into the carport. He stopped the man who was about to haul it away to the crusher, then wrenched open the passenger door. He had forgotten to empty the glove department. Not much was in there to begin with, but his most prized possession was there. Jonathan's golden feather, still glowing with the Boss's glory. Still warm & brand new. Keeping the feather hidden, Mark put the few papers & pens into a bag, the feather buried among them. He wasn't worried about crushing it since it couldn't be permanently damaged. Mark watched sadly as the car was finally towed away, half waving at it when he was sure no one would see him. When he got home, he emptied the contents of the bag onto the table. The crumpled feather was bent in half but by the time Mark reached out to pick it up, it had sprung back to life once it had the space free of other things to do so.

He dropped the feather into the small drawer of the nightstand beside his bed. Mark sat on the edge of the bed. "Well Boss. When are You sending him back? It's been years. When are You coming back, Yourself?"

There had been nothing of what Jonathan had warned him about all those years ago. Did the Lord delay his coming? The nineties, especially in the later years, was a strange era to live through. Mark was seeing more of people who knew not God, who would laugh it off & didn't even think angels were real. More & more scoffers came & at the same time Mark began hearing more rumors of war & seeing humanity change slowly but surely into something ugly.

He was nearing seventy now. Mark rarely went out on assignments the Boss had allowed him to find anymore. He was slowing down. He spent more time with the family. His sister had died but Mark didn't meet her angelic being either as far as he knew. Dianne & Scott were also getting on in years. Their boy they had adopted got engaged but the wedding never happened since Todd was killed in a car crash soon after proposing. It ruined Dianne & Scott.

Mark did what he could to keep them going but Scott fell into depression over the loss of his son & a few short years later, he had died. Mark sat back in his armchair at home, alone, wondering why the Boss would take their child right before his own wedding. Why let such a thing happen to such a nice family? Out of them all, Mark's faith was strongest considering what he knew, but even the strongest has a limit & Mark was beginning to waver.

He woke up with a start the next morning, still in his armchair. The TV he had been watching the night before was still on & it was showing one of the horrible scenes Mark had seen in vision so many years ago; although much more clearly. His vision had only shown buildings collapsing. The TV was showing a plane burning inside one of the Twin Towers. As Mark stared, a second plane struck the other tower.

That September morning, the world stopped turning. How could anyone dare attack America like this? Mark got up & paced. He was angry at the attack but he felt something else. Something he didn't like feeling. Scared & helpless. Mark wandered out into the backyard & glared at the sky. Such a quiet sky since all other planes were grounded. "Boss! I could really use some help right now! Why?" He looked back to the ground. "I'm too old for this." He blinked, suddenly figuring it out. Near the end of his mortal life! Was this the end, or at least the beginning of the end? The beginning of sorrows as the Boss Himself had once said nearly two thousand years ago?

Mark went back inside, still feeling upset & scared at the incident, but also a quiet excitement. The earth would reel to & fro & the coming of the Son of Man was likened to a woman crying to be delivered. Mark watched for more signs over the years. The planet was rocked, literally at times with earthquakes, with catastrophes left right & center. A terror was rising up in the east, developing into the largest terrorist group of the modern world, the ISIS. Sinkholes, floods, the wrath of nature tearing at the planet's earthly flesh, spilling its watery blood over causeways & forests, happened more often as time went by. Some said it only appeared that way since technology spread news around faster. At first, most people bought it, but after a while, even technology couldn't keep up with the wars & disasters of the world.

Mark returned home from visiting Dianne one day to find his computer on. He stopped & slipped into his old cop mode. Someone had been in his house. Mark moved slowly, looking for the intruder. He eventually came to the computer to find the chair had been pulled out & Jonathan's feather lying on its seat. Finally, after all these years, Jonathan had made some sort of contact. Mark wished he could see him. What would he look like with wings? He sat down & looked at the page that was on the screen. Sweden was putting microchips into some employees.

"Microchips?" Mark stared. "Yes. I remember now. You warned me about this!" Without warning, the computer page switched, startling Mark. "Haven't changed have you?" He grumbled. "Really cute!" He begrudgingly read the new page. It was a passage from Revelation about the mark of the beast in the hand or forehead. It then switched to the passage about bowing to the image of the beast but the Boss's rule was to not bow down to idols. Mark rubbed his face with both hands. "Is this coming to America soon?"

He wasn't exactly answered, but had the feeling he already knew it would be a yes eventually. Mark turned the computer off & got up, wondering what would be next. He didn't have to wait long. Barely a few years later, the signs of the Boss seemed to pick up the pace with renewed fury. There were more natural disasters than ever before. There were two sets of four blood moons each & a lot of talk of war in various parts of the world.

Mark was eighty by now. He rarely turned on the TV anymore. It was either full of reality shows or more disastrous news which he could easily find on the internet anyway. America seemed to let go completely old racial habits when they had hired a black president at last (although his nuclear deals were more than questionable), but then took several giant steps backward when an orange one took his place.

Barely a few months later, Nazis were storming American streets. Mark soon found another message left for him on the computer. A company in Wisconsin was now microchipping its employees. Mark looked around. "So it's here now."

He went out for a walk that evening, using his cane to move better. Mark was careful not to go far, just around the block. He tired easily now & was often sore. He could barely see out of one eye & his better eye was starting to fade. Halfway around the block, Mark stopped to sit on the garden bench for a short break before completing his round. When he stood up, he took barely three steps forward before feeling the ground slam into him.

Someone had shoved him from behind. Mark slowly turned over, knowing his mortal life was nearing its end. He took comfort in the fact that it must mean the Boss's return soon. Jonathan had come to him as he had promised though without being seen. It was all over soon. If this man finished him off now, he'd be with Jonathan as well as his family. He'd see Todd again!

"Where's the other one?" The man who had pushed Mark down snarled.

"What other one?" Mark gasped, feeling a pain in his side more than all the other pains he felt.

The man held up Jonathan's feather. "Don't play around!"

Mark felt insulted at such unholy hands gripping that feather. "That's mine! Let it go now."

The man broke it in half & the two pieces fluttered to the ground. It became whole again before it lighted on the grass. Mark inwardly smiled. The Boss's power was stronger than what this being had. "I tried to kill you both once before," said the fallen angel as he pulled out his dagger. "I'll start with you!" He got down to stab Mark through the chest.

The light was blinding. Mark felt no pain. In the distance, he heard some shriek of rage but all he could focus on was the bright light. Next moment, two shining eyes were looking down on him out of the white hot light. Mark felt something prop his body up against a wall he couldn't see & felt more than saw something like arms on either side of him. He blinked hard & saw four large objects, whiter than the light, sweep up then down, then the points of them turned towards him & landed two on either side.

"Am I dead?" Mark gasped.

He felt as if someone was laughing at him & the answer that came to him not by voice but by thought was a no.

Mark looked into the two shining eyes. Whatever this was moved closer, moving its four parts in a little to trap Mark in place. "What are you?"

The creature seemed to laugh at him as if he thought Mark being scared of it was funny. Then it gave him almost a scolding look as if to imply that Mark should already know.

Mark tried to regain control of his racing heart beat. "Jonathan?"

The creature seemed to pull his head back a little, looking him over. Mark slowly got to his feet, deciding to wonder later at how he could do that if his old broken body was still alive. Looking right & left, he realized that those four large things, two on either side of him, blocking all escape routes, were wings.

Mark glared into the shining eyes. "What is wrong with you? I'm over eighty years old! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?"

Jonathan only sent him a feeling of laughter. His wings snapped back to fold behind him as he stood there, laughing. Mark could barely make out the garden bench in the bright light. He made his way over & flopped down, clutching his chest. "Ohh! He's killed me! He's killed me! I'm going to die!"

The creature of pure light turned to watch him, amused. Mark slowly calmed down. "Well you sure changed. FOUR wings to!"

The light moved closer. Mark felt the whole story. Jonathan & the other angels that replaced the lost ones were all training under Gabriel for Armageddon. Seraphim like Gabriel & Lucifer actually had six wings. They were the highest angel ranks. Lucifer fell from that grace a long time ago. The next rank down were Cherubim, having four wings. They were on the front lines of battle with the Seraphim. The other angels had two wings & were mostly messenger or guardian angels. But all were trained for the final war of the universe.

"So you are a Cherubim now?" Mark asked a moment before feeling like he was being corrected. A Cherub was singular in fact. Cherubim was for the whole contingent. "Sorry." Mark reached for his cane & set it firmly in front of him. He looked Jonathan over as he slowly stood up. The human look was gone. What stood before him was pure light that somehow had a humanoid shape. The four wings were even brighter, neatly folded over each other behind the angel, the tips resting on the ground. The arrangement made it appear as if only two long large wings were folded. "So this is it for me then? You come to take me home?"

The angel walked around Mark, then put a hand on his shoulder. Mark suddenly found himself on a high plateau overlooking far-off lands & mountains. He felt that this was not an earthly plane & that he could see the entire Earth from here. Jonathan raised his hand towards the scene which changed from simple landscape to nuclear war. Mark saw lines of people offering themselves to be marked eternally. Then it was as if he could see all those alive at the moment & a great divide between two groups. One group looked like any gathering at perhaps a concert or rally. Most were not dressed appropriately, had vulgar speech & laughed at the other group. Mark looked over the second group. These people were dressed in rags but covered in light. They were injured but bore their pain quietly. As he watched, he saw almost all of them suddenly collapse to the ground as if struck dead. Scenes of guns, people killing others, officers dragging people away & even guillotines swept by.

Mark turned away. "Is this all to happen soon?"

Jonathan continued watching the scenes & silently urged Mark to do the same. He did so & he saw that not all who had been covered in light had died. A multitude still stood, bloodied & nearly dead, but still alive. For some reason, all Mark could think of was something in Revelation about a special group of people.

As if on cue, Jonathan lifted his hand to a scroll that had drifted in front of them. He rolled it open & pointed to some words. The scroll was Revelation & Mark read over the passage about the hundred & forty-four thousand, a group of virgin men who would never see death & would spend the last days trying to save any last souls that would listen.

Mark & Jonathan appeared in Mark's living room; though, he felt it more than saw it. Jonathan's brilliance nearly blotted everything out. The angel guided Mark to the armchair & let him sit down as he stood before him & finally, he used the spoken word.

Even his voice had changed. It still sounded familiar but had an echo to it. "The Boss has a deal for you," Jonathan began. "Remember when I told you that you would hear the trumpet resound? I know now what that means."

"I had thought about that a few times," Mark admitted. "What is it?"

"You have two options to choose from," Jonathan said. "You can either die next week by natural cause or you can join them." Mark leaned forward in his seat. Somehow, he didn't need to ask who 'them' was. He just knew. "You will never see death & you will hear the blasting of the trumpet upon the Boss's return during this lifetime of yours, unlike those who have died & can only hear it in their next life."

"Never to die," Mark gasped softly.

Jonathan knelt before him. "If I may, I would urge you to take the first option instead."

Mark smiled. "You'd rather I become an angel like you?"

"No one becomes angels anymore," Jonathan said. "Only a few became angels to replace those lost. Two thirds of the angels had always been angels, never human, never died. Like Gabriel, or Lucifer. One third left with Lucifer many ages ago. The Boss wanted to replace them. He needs the army for the final confrontation. Lucifer & his followers have no chance."

"That is good to know," said Mark. "So if I die & there are no more spots on the angel team, what would happen to me & anyone else who dies?"

"Throughout the ages, the Boss has hand picked a few from each era to go on to do His work, but enough angels have been made to take over the positions lost," Jonathan explained. "You know of the resurrection upon His return. This is for everyone else who still sleeps in the dust. Death is nothing to them. They won't notice how long they have been out. Their next conscious thought is with the Lord."

"I've always wondered why there was going to be a resurrection," said Mark.

"Two really," Jonathan said. "The first for the saints. The second for the followers of Lucifer. He collected many already to build his own army. But he was not allowed to take as many as the Boss did, so the rest of his followers wait in death to meet him in the end. But it will be too late for all of them by then."

Mark had a feeling that Jonathan was avoiding an issue. "So why would you rather I die then?"

Jonathan stood up & turned away. "Because those allowed to live to the end can still be captured, imprisoned, tortured during the apocalypse. I'd...I would rather you didn't have to face that. If you choose the second option, there is no going back. You may come to a point where you would wish to die, but you won't."

"Well, Jonathan," Mark sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling tired. "I'm old. I'll be a hundred in just over ten years. I have only one good eye now & there are times I can barely move with these old joints."

"That would go away," Jonathan said & Mark was suddenly thinking of Moses & how his eyes weren't dim or his feet weary at the end of his days. "You would be rejuvenated to be able to go out to join your people to finish up the great work. It would be similar to us going on assignments, but this time you would have to bring the lost sheep back to the Boss."

"It would be nice not to be trapped in my own body anymore."

Jonathan finally turned back to look at him. "You would be returned to full youth on that great day. For now, you will simply have youthful strength again."

"I thought that group all had to be Jews?" Mark began. "Virgin to. I did marry once."

"Yes you got the piece of paper & the blessing from God, but did you ever actually mate?"

Mark felt his face flush at Jonathan's straightforwardness. "Well, um, you know she, ah, was really sick."

"I know," Jonathan said. "Most of your marriage was spent in hospitals. It was a union of comfort." After a pause, he added. "She's waiting for you." Mark smiled at that as Jonathan went on. "You never did find anyone else. Why is that?"

"Uhh well I don't know," Mark shrugged pathetically. "It just...I never got around to it."

"I see," Jonathan sounded amused. "You have a Jewish heritage by the way. Right back to Auschwitz. One of the survivors is related to you."

"Really? Wow, I don't believe it!" Mark gasped. "Never knew that."

"I've met him a few times," said Jonathan. "Anyway it's a myth. The group is made up of men & women from not just Israel, but the spiritual Israel grafted into the vine. You don't have to be Jewish by blood to be part of it."

"Women? The Scripture said men."

"In the old days, male terminology was often neutral & in reference to mankind."

"Oh."

"Disappointed?"

"What? No," Mark glared. "Why would I be? I just never thought of it that way. Jonathan!" The angel only laughed at him again. "You're making up for lost time, aren't you?" Mark scolded. Jonathan spread both arms & all wings in an attempt to feign innocence. Mark grumbled under breath. "Tell me something Jon. Are all angels even half as annoying as you or is it just you?"

"Oh that's real cute!" Jonathan pouted, letting his wings droop.

"Hmpf. It's just you, isn't it? Thank God!" Mark let out a yelp when he heard the clap of thunder. And…Jonathan was laughing at him once more. Mark took his cane to stand up. He waited for Jonathan to compose himself & they stared at each other for a long time.

"You're taking the second option, aren't you?" Jonathan broke the silence.

"You told me so many years ago that I WILL hear the trumpet resound. You said now that it would be in this lifetime, not the next like for others," Mark paused before finishing. "This choice was made before I was even born, wasn't it?"

"Mark, you don't have to," Jonathan said, sounding worried, almost pleading. "If you allow it, the Boss will let you die naturally next week."

"Let another take my place?"

Jonathan's light flared to almost blinding, but Mark didn't even blink. "You know what those people will go through!"

"I also know what their job is, which is more important."

The light dimmed back to normal, which wasn't much of a difference. "You are right." Jonathan disappeared & Mark could see again, not just because the light was gone but also since his eyesight was back to normal.

Mark moved towards the bedroom, letting his cane fall to the floor. It was no longer needed.

(If anyone remembers, that boy was played by Paul Walker.)