MICHAEL
15 years ago.
The sky was a milky mixture of deep penetrating blue, smashed with a marbled white that twisted throughout the night sky. It was a night that ethereal forces should have been about. Michael sauntered down East street, rather liking the night, it had a penetrating serenity about it that you couldn't get when people were awake during the day. Entering the conservatory for the arts, with a flick of his wrist, the doors to the building flew open, and he walked in further.
Michael's favorite piece of art in the building, was a portrait of The Annunciation by Fra Angelico, it had a very 'life-like' feeling to him. He came up to the security station, swiping his hand to the side, the station gate swinging open, as he, never losing his pace, advanced through the building.
He slowly walked towards a man with flowing red hair that fell down to his shoulders. Three early nineties vintage picnic baskets sat by his feet, the kind you would find in a musty indoor flea market, owned by a lady pinched with age, that only opened on the weekends during obscure hours. Raphael was standing near what seemed to be, a painting by Pablo Picasso.
"Hey," said Michael is a suave tone.
"Hello," replied Raphael. He stood on edge, shifting his weight onto one foot, and then the other. Michael couldn't tell if it was the mood or the fact that they had broken into a museum.
"So what's up? What did Remiel need me to do?" Exclaimed Michael, after a brief and awkward silence. "Uriel told me that he needed me here at least."
"Yes Michael, they're doing something different this year." He sighed,
"What is that?" Raphael gestured to the wicker baskets,
"I don't know much, only that these are children with reincarnations of three angels, mom wants you to give them to a family and teach them everything, you know, energy, focus, yeah, yeah, like we were."
"Do you know which ones?" He shook his head,
"Nope," he nodded, pursing his lips,
"Great, alright," Raphael patted Michaels back and set the three baskets down next to him, whispering, he said
"good luck, you're going to need it." While strutting away, down the hall, and out of the museum, leaving Michael, rolling this new information over, and over, in his mind like sea glass, until worn down to smooth edges.
As he strode out of the building, he had a sharp chill wash over him, screaming that something, was very, very, wrong.
SETH
Meanwhile, at Dorset Plaza, just North of East street, Seth walked into a diner bustling with people, everything was lit with a drowsy sort of neon lighting, that attempted to hide the grimy, ash, covered walls. Smelling of the pungent stench of cigarette smoke, mixed with fried potatoes. He took a bright red booth, with darker red splotches.
Considering they sold no wine, hinted that someone had a very bad day. A blonde southern waitress, waltzed up to him, asking,
"What can I get for you today dearie?"
"I'll take one coffee, black, and a green tea, for my friend who'll be along."
"Okay dearie, anythin' else?"
"No, that will be all."
"Sure hon, be back in a minute."
His deep, purple, tousled hair, was swept to the side as he leaned against the booth devoid of comfort and cushion. He wore ripped, faded, jeans that clung to his calf and ankle, burrowing into his flat, black boots that reflected the neon light like mirrors.
Then, the diner door swung open, and she stormed in, her shining black hair waving in the doorway, as those deep green eyes flitted about the room looking for him. He waved casually at her, and she advanced to the seat, she wore black and white, striped socks, that flowed to mid thigh height, meeting with a pair of black leather shorts that looked as if, they had been ripped to make shorter. The shorts were held up by a black belt, studded with gleaming metal disks, she wore a knitted black and white long sleeve shirt, where the cuffs fell over her hands. Finally it was topped off with an identical collar to the belt, fastened around her neck. Her hair was midnight black, in pigtails, that were highlighted with strands of white and grey. Her face pale as snow,
" You look stunning today. " He started,
"Oh thank you!" She exclaimed with a forced and exaggerated smile. She sat down in the red booth seat across from him, the waitress setting their drinks down.
"Thank you" said Ravana to the waitress,
"You're welcome dearie!"
"Has it been done yet? Were they delivered?"
"Yes Seth, the plan has been put into action"
"So?" He asked. Ravana lifted one of her sleeves to reveal a a grey wrist watch.
"In about twenty six seconds the families will notice the two children I left at their doorstep, and take them into their lives." She waited a bit before saying, "hopefully,"
"It's that simple?"
"Not everything has to be devised in a complicated matter Seth, that's stereotypical."
"Yes Ravana." He said as a spark died from his eyes. They both sipped at their drinks and cherished the moment, "did you give them names?" She nodded,
"Yeah, Amy and Kian," he smirked,
"Really?"
"Yeah, I thought those might be the most appropriate." She took another sip of her tea, "got a problem with them?" He shook his head,
"No, no, they're just a bit ironic."
"Not really." He nodded,
"Okay."
MICHAEL
He walked up the driveway to a small quaint house. Mostly made of brick except for the garage, which was made of some other plastic like building material. He knocked on the royal blue door with the number 214 in gold lettering. After a minute the lock was unbolted with a slide of screeching metal. A tall, curved woman appeared at the entrance to the door, in a grey bathrobe with fuzzy neon pink slippers.
"Hello, I'm Michael, would you please take care of this boy? I am unable to take care of him you see and I was hoping that you might be able to take care of him for me."
The woman glanced at Michael, the child, and then back into another room.
"Umm, please, just hold on a second." And with that the door closed shut and she shuffled into another room.
The woman opened the blue door back again and beckoned for Michael to hand the basket over. He gently handed it over saying,
"His name is Gabriel, thank you, again." The woman nodded and silently closed the door, taking the child away. He walked back down the driveway and up the street, he didn't want to place the children too close together or else people would get suspicious.
Later, on Pie Hill Road, he asked another family to take Anna, and on St. Andrews Road he gave Cassidy to a kind single mother.
Finally, when Michael was finished, the first pinpricks of light were just starting to emerge from the sky, as the world started to wake up. He snapped his fingers in the crisp morning air, energy pulsing through his figure, evaporating and dissolving into the air. Speeding through the atmosphere at a speed much faster than light, after a few minutes he materialized in a large room, immaculately white, and decorated with a prismatic ceiling, that radiated bright light in grandeur through the halls. Michael, gained his balance and walked down the hall, he was wearing a tan trench coat with a semi-clean dress shirt and black pants. He turned swiftly into another hall and then another, it would seem to be a never ending maze to someone who wasn't used to it, but, having lived there his entire life, it had became second nature. He stopped in a room, triple the size of the last, and much more glorious. A chandelier glimmered in the light, diamonds studded on the exterior, sending a ring of magnified brightness throughout the room. In front of Michael was a glorified chair, not quite a throne, it was too thin, but not rugged enough to be a chair either, Remiel, the Judge of the Archangel Court standing in front of it.
"Hey Remiel,"
"Welcome Captain Archangel Michael Asa Morningstar, how are you? I do believe that it has been a while, hasn't it?" he rolled his eyes, too much energy was put into being formal,
"Yes, Remiel."
"Did the plan go smoothly, and was carried out with success?"
"Yes, the children are with different families, good families of course, and no one suspects a thing."
"Good, good. Great job Michael, you may be dismissed."
"Thank you Remiel." He headed out the room, dematerializing home the moment he stepped into the hallway.
Comments (0)
See all