Ghosts 3

“Oh, look.”  Mya spoke first.  They saw a puppy on a leash.  It looked right at them, wagged its tail and panted with its tongue.  It looked like a little Labrador, and obviously very young.  Mya let go of Nathan’s hand to get down and pet the puppy.  She did not think about it, she just did it, and the puppy responded with a lick.  “Oh, cutie,” she called it.  The woman on the other end of the leash was gabbing with another woman.  Mya did not care about that.  “Yes, cutie,” she said, and she looked up at Nathan who smiled.  “Come and say hello.  He won’t bite.”

Nathan felt reluctant to squat down.  He felt very afraid for his knees, but as he did, he found that his knees were well up to the task and did not hurt at all.  That became as much pleasure for him as a chance to pet the puppy.  The puppy responded by lifting its paws to his shoulders and it gave him a lick.  Everyone smiled and felt happy until the woman jerked the leash.

“Egbert, behave!”  The woman spoke sternly and tugged a couple of unkind tugs on the leash until the puppy came to obedience at her feet.  The woman had a cruel streak in her and Nathan was surprised at how strongly he felt the woman’s cruelty.  He looked down at Mya and saw that her eyes were wide.  She felt it too. Nathan and Mya did not interfere, even when the puppy looked at them, sadly.  “Yes, Egbert is an old family name,” the woman said.  “I promised my mother I would use it for one of my children.”  The woman laughed; or at least Nathan and Mya guessed that the sound was supposed to be a laugh.  The two women returned then to their inspection of the disaster, and since neither Mya nor Nathan were interested in going there, they said good-bye to the puppy and walked, hand in hand in the opposite direction

“Poor Egbert,” Mya said.  “He is going to have to live his whole life with that name.”

“Poor Egbert,” Nathan agreed.  “And with that woman,” he added, but his mind stayed on other things, and at once he saw what he was looking for.  He found a distraught looking young man sitting on the curb, ignoring everything that was going on around him as if lost in deep thought.  Nathan stopped their forward progress for a good, long look. The young man’s black hair appeared unmoved by the wind, though of itself that meant nothing.  He decided a comparison was in order so he looked back at the woman and her dog.  He felt astounded.  The woman behind looked as real as any he saw in life, but the young man on the curb looked more real.  It did not make sense, but that seemed the only way he could understand it.

Mya, who stood still and patient, got it at about the same time.  “He’s a ghost,” she said.  Nathan nodded, and he felt fairly sure that this was the ghost of the suicide bomber.

“Hello, friend.”  Nathan interrupted the man’s thoughts.  Nathan had decided that he had no ill will toward the man.  After all, he had lived a long and rich enough life in his own small way.  He did feel strongly for Mya, however, that this man’s actions were decidedly unfair to her, young as she was.  That was why he refused to abandon her, he told himself, though the truth was he felt he needed the little girl as much as she might need him.  “Friend?”  Nathan reached out to touch the man’s shoulder, but the man turned suddenly to stare at them with dark eyes filled with fear and hatred.

“Go away!”  The young man shouted.  “Why can’t you demons leave me alone?  Go away!”

Nathan squatted, now that he knew he could do that, and he looked toward the man, eye to eye, though he kept his distance and made no further move to touch him.  “Can I help?”  He asked and felt Mya squat down next to him.

“Maybe we could help.”  Mya agreed with Nathan, and they saw a slight softening in the man’s eyes as he turned his eyes to take in the girl.

“There is nothing you can do.  It is done,” the young man said through gritted teeth.

“But what is the matter?”  Mya apeared very sensitive to the young man’s pain, though that was just a blessing of human sensitivity sometimes found in the very young and rarely found in adults, it was not a hyper sensitivity such as they both had felt in the cruelty of the puppy owner.  Nathan had to catch Mya’s hand to keep her from reaching out to touch the young man softly, as she had petted the puppy.

“It is done,” the young man said again, and then he shifted his gaze to the heavens.  “Why am I not in paradise?  They all said I would be in paradise!”

Mya took the question seriously and responded with the only answer she could come up with.  “Maybe they did not tell you the truth.”  She spoke in her most encouraging voice, but Nathan had to move fast.  He grabbed Mya around the middle and pulled her out of reach just as the man’s face turned wicked, and his arms, with hands formed like claws, reached out to scratch her, to grab her, to hurt her in whatever way he could.

“Leave me alone, demons!  They warned me about your wicked tongues.”  The young man shouted, but very quickly a voice of reason interrupted.  It came from the side of the confrontation.

“Surely you did not believe the slaughter of the innocents was your ticket to heaven,” the voice said.

“Liar!  You are all liars!  I will listen no more!  Leave me alone, you demons!  Leave me alone!”  He slapped his hands over his ears so there would be no talking to him, and he turned his face back to the curb.

“There is no reaching him at present,” the voice said, and Nathan and Mya turned to see something they both expected to see and dared not hope to see.  Mya shivered and went straight to her knees.  She drew a hesitant Nathan down with her.  It was not that Nathan did not believe in what he saw, but rather his rational, worldly mind had been more developed, and after all, he had never seen an angel before.  He felt it, though, in his deepest marrow; that sense of awesome wonder, and not a little fear that showed in the trembling in his bones and in the pit of his stomach.  He felt in a sense like he was naked in a way he had never been before, and that feeling came with the realization that not every corner of his naked life was exactly clean.  It made him lower his eyes, not that he could have looked into the golden glare of those orbs regardless of how much they smiled.  He imagined Mya, being seven, had far less filth on her plate, but then he did not know for sure.  It does not take some people very long at all to build up all sorts of wickedness in their lives.  Maybe she felt it more strongly and that might be why she humbled herself first of all.

“Some people prefer to live in a box.”  The angel spoke, and both Mya and Nathan could do nothing but listen.  “They imagine they have put God in a box and believe that they understand his eternal, almighty nature, but in reality, all they have done is box up their own minds and hearts.  You must pray for him before the box becomes as hard as concrete.”  The angel paused and both Nathan and Mya ventured to look up.  Perhaps they were drawn to do so.

The Angel looked at someone beside him.  It was the old woman from the bus.  Nathan felt sure of that, even if she no longer looked like the old woman.  She had become, well, it seemed hard to tell what age exactly.  She looked like she was ageless, young one moment, but very old as well.  What is more, she looked all sparkly, like Christmas lights on a grand old tree, and the lights were blindingly bright even if they looked dim beside the glowing presence of the angel.  Anyway, her eyes were on the angel and she smiled, even when the angel turned again to look at Mya and Nathan.

“Do not be afraid,” the angel said.  “For you there are two times, a time between and a half time.”  And then it vanished—the angel was just not there anymore.  The young suicide bomber had gone as well, probably run off somewhere.  The sparkling woman turned toward Mya and Nathan.  Nathan could not quite be sure where the woman’s eyes were focused, so he could not be sure if she saw them or not, or if her smile was for them or not, though he liked to think it was.  All he could say for sure was her sparkling presence got very bright for a moment before she vanished as surely as the angel.

Nathan had tears in his eyes from the strain of all that bright light, or so he told himself.  Mya also had tears in her eyes, but neither of them felt sad in the least.  Indeed, when Nathan helped the girl up from the sidewalk, she seemed elated.  Her hands had been held palm to palm in the classic image of a child at prayer, and though she readily gave up her pose to take Nathan’s hand once again, she still seemed to be praying, so Nathan kept quiet.  Thus, neither said a thing as they walked the many blocks to the hospital.

Holiday Journey 7

Chris put a note on the door.  It had instructions directing Lilly to stay with Missus Minelli, if she should come back. He got Missus Minelli from next door to watch for Lilly.  Missus Minelli, an older widow, had children and grandchildren who lived some distance away. She did not get visited very often by her own family.  She loved Lilly, and watched her from time to time before these last few months, when Mary moved in.  Chris said nothing about Lilly being missing, though Missus Minelli might have guessed something was up.  Hers had been the very first door they knocked on when they started knocking on doors.  Still, Chris let the assumption stand that Lilly had gone out, perhaps with friends, though he did not say exactly where she might have gone.

“Lilly knows, if I am not home, to stay with you until I get home.”

“I remember,” Missus Minelli said.  “Lilly is such a nice, polite child.  But where should I tell her you are going?”

“Mary and I are going to church,” Chris said.  “And thank you for being there for me, and for Lilly.”

“Happy to do it,” Missus Minelli said.  Her old, craggy face wrinkled up in a big smile as she eyed Chris and Mary. “You two make a lovely couple.”

“Oh, we’re not…” Chris started to say something, but looked at Mary, who looked back at him with those big, puppy-dog eyes, wondering what he would say, and how he might feel about that idea.  Chris let his voice drop and said, “Thank you,” to Missus Minelli.  “We won’t be long.”

He walked beside Mary to the elevator.  She dropped her eyes to the floor.  He never stopped staring at her, even on the elevator; but she never looked up at him.  At last, they stepped outside, and Chris took Mary’s hand; and then he would not look at her. But Mary looked at him and smiled with all her might, and her heart danced the three blocks to the church.

 

Cue: Angels We Have Heard on High

A Holiday Journey, The London Symphony Orchestra

conducted by Don Jackson.  Ó℗CD Guy Music Inc., 2001

 

Chris, like so many his age, made it through church confirmation, and did not go much after that.  He was not sure what he believed, exactly, but he knew he believed in love, and so did God, apparently.  That seemed to be what the church believed in, even if most Christians did not live or act that way.   He believed in love, joy, peace, goodness, kindness, and all that God supposedly taught, even if most people did not live it or really believe it for themselves. He tried to do these things in his life, and he tried go to church since he and Lilly got left on their own.  He felt it was important for Lilly to hear and learn about God—about love, joy and peace.  She certainly would hot hear about such things on the street.

He found his Episcopal church closed and locked up tight.  He took Mary slowly down the street, and mumbled something about it being a week before Christmas, and Sunday no less, and the church had no business being closed and locked. They tried several other mainline churches in town before they got to the Catholic church at the end of the street. Chris never stopped holding Mary’s hand, and Mary never stopped smiling.  Chris did not smile at the thought of the churches being closed the Sunday before Christmas.  It irked him.

They found a small side door open at the Catholic church.  It let them into the sanctuary.  They found a very old priest there, setting up the nativity scene for next Sunday.  It would be Christmas Eve, with Christmas Day on the following Monday.  The priest noticed as they came in.  He waved, but kept to his task, while Mary genuflected briefly at the altar and Chris went to sit in a pew and cry. He wanted to cry out to God for help, but he did not know how.  He could only hope God could read what sat so heavily in his heart.

Mary wandered to an alcove where there appeared to be a statue of a saint.  It might have been Nicholas.  She was not sure, but in any case, her heart and prayers went out to the one above all the saints.  Her tears were large, but quiet.  Her words got whispered.

“He is broken.  How can I abandon him?  He is such a good and wonderful man.  I cannot leave him alone to suffer.”

“And you love him,” the words came to her, as a tall, thin blonde, with the lightest eyes, that sparkled with specks of gold, appeared before her.  It was the Christmas angel.  Mary trembled in the presence of the angel, and a holy fear gripped her heart.

“Merry.” The angel called her by her name.  “Do not be afraid.”

“Holy one,” Mary responded, and found herself opening-up, almost like her heart could not keep quiet.  “I do love him.  He is my heart,” she used the well-known fairy phrase.  “I know the little spirits are not supposed to form attachments with mortal humans, but I would become human in a heartbeat, give up all the glories of the second heavens, and never return to the land of Christmas, if only I could be with him for the rest of our days.”

“And Lilly”

“That was…I…” she could not say the angel was wrong.  Such words were unthinkable.  Clearly, the angel allowed Lilly to be taken quietly in the night. Lilly belonged with her mother, and generally, it was better if humans did not know about such things; but Mary had to express her feeling.  Neither would the angel accept anything less than the truth.  “He deserves to know what happened to her.”

“No one deserves,” the angel said.  “What humanity deserves for sin and rebellion is horrible beyond imagining.  Instead, what they got was a baby in a manger, who grew and died so they would not have to get what they deserved.”

Mary lowered her head.  She knew, and above all honored the story of how the source chose to deal with humanity on that most basic and deep rooted level.  The trouble was, as a non-human, her place was to be obedient to the source as represented in the form of the angel that stood before her.  She was to do her work in the world, and could only hope that she might be included in the miracle of grace.  Mary said no more.  She could not argue with such a statement.  All she could do was turn her head and look longingly at Chris, and maybe pray for him.

“Two brothers,” the angel spoke over her shoulder.  “The older brother, the most fortunate of men, both loved and was loved in return by a fairy for however brief a time.  Now, the younger brother has captured the heart of a young elf maiden.”

“Now and forever,” Mary said, and watched as the old priest finally stepped over to talk to Chris.