Pieces of Hope (42 page)

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Authors: Carolyn Carter

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Ethan
seemed to nod at someone behind me. All conversations came to an abrupt halt
and the music ceased. As if on cue, Dad said, “Katydid, I’ve been meaning to
ask you since you arrived—what is that you’re wearing around your neck?”

It was
too perfect to pass up. I stole Ethan’s line. “Gee, Dad. It’s a necklace. Haven’t
you ever seen a necklace before?” The music started up again, and my great joke
got lost in a horrible rendition of “Happy Birthday.”
 
Rolled out by one of the waiters on a silver
cart, a monster slab of cake appeared with enough candles on it to burn down an
entire forest. I was eighteen, not eighty, but candles that numerous gave the
cake lots of sparkle. The elaborately decorated cake read:
Welcome Home, Katydid. Happy Belated Birthday!

“Did you
think we’d forgotten?” Dad asked, his eyes misty with tears.

“This is
. . .” A lump of words tangled in my throat.

“I love
you, Hope,” Ethan whispered in my ear. “Everyone here loves you . . .”

The
tears that had been threatening to spill all evening rolled down my cheeks. Mac
slipped up behind me and handed me a handkerchief. I mumbled my thanks. Several
dozen hugs and kisses later, we ventured to a twenty-foot table near the
dee
-jay. “Made from solid mahogany,” Madeline had said. It
made me sad to think that someone had cut down a tree so magnificent, and I
began blubbering all over again. Later, when I was working on my second piece
of cake, a honeyed sensation made my limbs go weak, and I heard someone speak
as if I were listening through water.

“Hey, who
invited all the basketball players?” The voice was Sophie Langley’s.

I turned
in slow motion towards the direction she was gawking. Brody was just now stumbling
in from the darkened area beyond the pool. His eyes were a little out of focus
and he had a lovesick puppy-dog look about him.

“Oh, no!”
I shouted. “I thought they only had this effect on females.” And apparently
guys named Brody.

“What
effect?” Sophie asked, her speech heavily slurred. My head was much clearer
than hers; I could feel the swimming-in-honey sensation diminishing. I was glad
Ethan had slipped away a moment earlier to grab us some drinks. I needed to get
this in hand. Quickly.
 

“At
least they’re wearing clothes this time!” Only at
my
coming-home party could Angels upstage the featured guest.
 

“You’ve
seen them naked?” Sophie’s eyebrows were in the middle of her forehead.

I realized
suddenly I was speaking aloud. “What? No! I mean, they’re wearing
more
clothes, normal clothes. And where
did they put their wings—?”

“Wings?”
Sophie’s eyebrows remained frozen in that same spot. If I hadn’t been so
preoccupied, I would have laughed out loud. She looked positively ridiculous.


Wuh
-what?” I stammered. “No, no, I said
rings
. . . their championship
basketball rings.” Running off, I muttered, “Excuse me, will you?”

Brody almost
fell as I ran toward him. He pointed at the bluff, his speech so slurred I
almost couldn’t understand him. “HOPE! Doze are
da
waaay
coowest
dooz
!
Dey
sez
we can
pway
footsball
sometimes . . .
Waaaay
coooool
dooz
. . .”

“Hey,
Brody, go dip your head in the pool for about thirty seconds. The basketball
players do it all the time,” I told him. “They say it keeps them at the top of
their game.”


Cooooool
. . .” He turned it into an eight-letter word. I watched
as he made his way to the shallow end of the pool, leaned over, then tumbled
headfirst over the side, spluttering a mouthful of water as he surfaced several
seconds later.

Once I
knew he wasn’t going to drown, I scrambled to meet them, wondering what had
drawn them here. Were they here to tell me that something had happened to my
body? Here to warn me again? Or Daniel . . . did this have something to do with
Daniel? I waited for it, but could sense no irritation—that genuinely annoyed
feeling that pulsed through me whenever he was near. I didn’t think Daniel was
here. Yet.

 

20
   
The Powers

 

As I
crossed the expanse of ground that led to the cliffs’ edge, I heard a mingling
of voices in my head. At first, I couldn’t make sense of it; they were all
talking at once. Then a loud
Shhh
! silenced everyone. I froze in my step, careful not to
turn in the direction of their voices as I listened in.

Creesie
spoke first.
As
I said, angels are arranged by choirs, not levels. The first choir are
Seraphim, followed by Cherubim—you know, those cute, chubby ones depicted in
paintings? These are followed by the Thrones, Powers, and Principalities.
Obviously, these Angels are from the choir of Powers. Their raven wings are a
dead giveaway.

But,
Creesie
, what
do they do?
Charlotte’s
voice was even giddier, faster and higher-pitched than usual. It seemed even
the dead could be mesmerized by these four.

As Divine beings, the Powers guard the
boundaries of life and death and maintain the balance between good and
evil.
 

You make them sound like policemen!
Charlotte squeaked.

Celestial policemen!
Rin
let out an unusually high giggle.
With ebony
wings!

Then I
heard a cooler voice.
But
Creesie
, why do you suppose—?

Cat, it can’t simply be about Daniel. Because
of Divine Order, the Powers will not involve themselves in the affairs of one
living being. It does
maks
me wonder if
Sethos
is up to something, and more than we’d even suspected
. . .
Creesie
paused. Cat gave a sharp intake of
breath.
And if
Sethos
,
or others like him is near, none of us can be too careful
.

Rin
and Charlotte seemed not to have heard her. They continued
staring off toward the Powers with those gooey looks on their faces. My heart started
to pound in my ears, but my feet refused to move. Some urgent voice of my own
insisted I hurry back to the living realm—soon—and suggested I drag Daniel back
with me.

As you’re all aware,
Creesie
continued,
there’s an order to the
universe, and this is no less true when it comes to the Divine. Everything in
this realm has meaning, fulfills a purpose, and above all, must follow Divine
order.

I could suddenly
see how great
Creesie
must have been as a teacher.
Absent of all that absentmindedness, she had a way of making the complicated
seem simple. And, like most teachers, she probably had eyes in the back of her
head. As I thought this, I took a few steps closer to the bluff.

The reason why females are so besotted by
these four—though, let’s face it, any sensitive individual who could tune in to
their frequency would also be afflicted—has to do with Divine gifts. Take
Gavriel
, for instance . . . the long-haired one in front that
looks a bit like a rock star. His gift is to inspire hope in humankind.

I looked
to where they stood, rock-still, their unique features visible even from this
distance, their white pants and shirts billowing about in the wind. Focusing only
on
Gavriel
, I could feel my spirits lifting, like a
subtle voice whispering of infinite possibilities.
 

And that mischievous-looking Angel to
Gavriel’s
right is none other than
Verchiel
.
Of him, I’ve heard more stories than the others. His gift is to inspire others
to love.

That
made perfect sense. Recalling the wooziness that had overpowered me when I’d
first looked into those little-boy eyes, and the way
Gavriel
had halted his fun by tossing him a warning glance, I now carefully avoided
looking anywhere near or into those eyes.

Tell us about the blonde, curly-haired one
to
Gavriel’s
left,
Charlotte begged.

That’s
Camael
,
Creesie
replied
. His
Divine gift is to inspire art and creativity.

Hmm . .
. and had he influenced Daniel’s enormous portrait of me?

And the one in the back, the one with the
commanding stare, that’s
Uriel
. Believe it or not,
Creesie
chuckled,
his
Divine gift is to inspire peace and harmony.

That intense-looking
Angel with the military haircut inspired peace? Go figure.

So you can understand why, with all of them
near—and yes, indeed, it’s a miracle to catch a glimpse of them.
Creesie
started mumbling, almost to herself now, easily drifting
off topic
. “But clearly, clearly, you can
see
—She let a hiccup of a giggle escape—
See
w
hy it’s so difficult to contain one’s
self!”

It was a
great relief to know I wasn’t the only one who got drunk off Angels. There was
some comfort in that. Even
Creesie
wasn’t immune.
 

I felt
several eyes on my back, and I wheeled around.
Creesie
,
Gus, Cat, Mac,
Rin
, and Charlotte were staring at me. Though I
feigned shock at the sight of them, I couldn’t deny that I’d been listening,
and evidently they knew it.
  

Hope, what are you waiting for?
Gus
shouted.
Go ask them why they’re here!

Mac
snickered.
And stop listening in on
other’s people’s conversations, you little eavesdropper!

I
laughed, gave a hesitant wave, and hurried on my way. Unable to follow the
path, I made a bee-line straight for the Powers. I was gliding along at a
decent clip until I was about twenty feet from them. Then my feet, mired in invisible
quicksand, that too-familiar honeyed sensation, began moving in exaggerated
slow motion.

As I got
closer, I could see they had discarded their shirts, extended their wings, and
were floating—rather than standing as I’d originally thought—beyond the edge of
the bluff. I marveled again at the absence of sound. Their wings, enormous as
they were, didn’t make a whoosh, flutter, or even a whisper. In the sweeping
moonlight, I could also see that
Gavriel’s
and
Uriel’s
wings were more silvery than black—unlike
Camael’s
and
Verchiel’s
, the
boyish-looking one. I wondered if they were older. Did Angels get . . . older?
Other questions came to mind, but with them this close, I went instantly mute.
All of those unanswered thoughts became a distant, foggy memory.

“Young
Catherine . . .” Again those commanding, resonating voices—like a choir of,
well, Angels. “Is this more pleasant to your ears?”

Despite
my stupor, I slowly realized they were speaking aloud for my benefit. But I
couldn’t answer them. My tongue was thick, a lump of dry clay in my mouth.

“And you
tarry . . . you tarry despite our admonishment!”

It took
me a couple seconds to translate “tarry” and “admonishment” into
delay
and
warning.
I needed a thesaurus to keep up.

“Our
world revolves around dark and light, Young Catherine. Nefarious and Divine
reside together in mutual harmony—as it should be, as it has been, as it always
will be—beings beyond the scope and breadth of your human imagination.”

“But
there is also order—Divine Order,”
Uriel
proclaimed
in a voice deep as water. “And that is our sole purpose . . . This Divine realm
was not created for the living. You have been granted a glimpse of our world,
one which will ultimately require a sacrifice on your behalf, but one which
will, nonetheless, irrevocably alter your path.”

There
was a deliberate pause. Their eyes didn’t leave mine, nor could I turn away
from theirs. Transfixed, we gazed at one another—the ordinary and the Divine.
Though it was delivered compassionately, their message was delivered with a
sense of urgency. And they had made something abundantly clear. No matter the
choice I made, I was going to lose something . . . or someone . . . in the
process. And that was the real problem. I wanted to lose nothing. To give up
nothing. Whatever was wrong with having your cake and eating it, too? Hadn’t
they heard of that expression? But as their Divine eyes bore into mine, it
proved too difficult to hold on to my anger. Love, hope, inspiration, and awe
filled me up as if I were an empty cup. And, decidedly wonderful as it was, it
also made my thoughts as scattered as dandelion fuzz.

And
then, more commanding—the choir reaching its crescendo—I felt the hair on my
arms stand up as they uttered in unison, “We urge you. Do not long tarry.”

My
rebellious side kicked in and I thought about telling them that what I did, or
how I did it was none of their damn business. But after evaluating their size,
their Divine powers, and their eternal duty to protect the boundaries of life
and death, I reconsidered that and shut my big mouth. Not that I could have
spoken if I’d wanted to. It was just the principle of the thing . . . Why couldn’t
they take me to my mother—wherever she was? Or bring her back to me? They knew
that was what I wanted. They knew it was
all
that I wanted.

Well,
mostly.

I also
wanted Ethan—desperately. And I wanted Daniel to be happy, if possible—without
me. And yet, out of sheer selfishness, I had pitted all the people I loved most
in this world on opposing sides of the universe. How was I going to fix this mess
without hurting someone?

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