Chapter 12
“Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door”
Eric Clapton
~~~
Lying in a Dank, Black Atlanta Alley,
Oblivious to Scurrying Roaches and Rats,
Wanting Nothing More Than to be Claimed by Death.
SOMEWHERE, A MAN quietly wept, his low, heartbroken moans and sobs threading their way through Jake’s mind. Maybe he ought to do something about it. Find out what was wrong. Offer to help, if he could. Wasn’t that part of his job?
Jake struggled to remember exactly what work he did that would require him to offer aid to brokenhearted strangers. He felt sure he ought to know, but before he could sort it out, things went hazy, and he drifted away.
When consciousness returned, the weeping had stopped, but a dull ache in his right arm forced him back to a semblance of reality. He opened his eyes and found himself curled on his side, his aching arm beneath the battered body of a young man. He stared, confused, but certain he didn’t want to know more.
Closing his eyes, he tried to float away again. To be somewhere else. To be someone else. Anything was better than the truth he feared awaited him there.
But Truth will not be denied. Sooner or later, it always comes calling, whether a person is ready for it or not. The minute that thought passed through his mind, Truth slammed into Jake with a kick like a mule, then forced him to remember who he was and why he was lying in this hellhole of a dark, stinking alley. It refused to let him look away—images unfolding in front of his eyes like video on the evening news. And with a searing fury, Truth turned him inside out and left nothing behind but the scorched remains of the man he’d once been.
Time passed. Hours? Days? He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. Where was death when a man wanted it? Why couldn’t he order his lungs to stop breathing, his heart to stop beating? They’d sure done it easily enough when he drowned in that icy river, in spite of his frantic efforts to stay alive then. Why wouldn’t those treacherous organs cooperate now?
And how come no one came down this alley to beat him to a pulp like they had Dodger? Where was the justice in that?
Dodger!
Pain lanced through his heart like an arrow. Clever, determined, endlessly curious Dodger was gone. The boy had worked so hard for his new chance, for a life that meant something, but nothing had kept his lungs sucking in air or made sure his heart continued to beat. Oh, no. Instead, his boy had suffered through a murderous pounding and died in a vermin-infested alley.
It was one burden too much, filled with more grief than Jake’s heart could stand. His misery tipped over the edge into anger, then slid straight to rage. He glared at the narrow strip of night sky visible at the top of the alley, fury mounting by the second.
“Hey!” he bellowed. “You up there! What kind of miserable, uncaring God would allow something like this to happen? I’m done with you. You hear me? I’m done!” Then he fell headfirst into blackness, the dark his only comfort.
When Jake regained consciousness, blinking and groaning, he found himself abandoned by the shadows and on his own once more. A shaft of sunlight no thicker than a drinking straw blinded him. Freakin’ figured. An entire alleyway of darkness, and one scrawny, miserable shaft of light still managed to hit him square in the eyes. Why? All he wanted was to lie there in oblivion until he no longer existed. Until he wasn’t. Wasn’t in misery. Wasn’t breathing. Just . . . wasn’t.
Maybe he needed to do something more concrete to make that happen. Okay. He’d look for a damn knife in the dumpster and stab himself. Or a piece of glass sharp enough to cut his wrists. Or even a fallen brick he could bash his head in with. There had to be some way to end this pain, and he would, by damn, find it. He wanted to die right there in that filthy alley, lying beside Dodger, no matter what it took.
But when Jake tried to get to his feet, dizziness and the mother of all headaches conspired against him, and his legs joined in the rebellion, refusing to hold him up. A kneeling position was the best he could manage, which left him staring straight at Dodger’s pitiful, battered body.
He bit back another sob, then caught a glimpse of furtive movement out of the corner of his eye. A rat, bolder than any rat had a right to be, crept from the shadows and sniffed at Dodger’s bloody sneakers. With a scream, Jake lunged toward the bastard, which skittered just far enough out of reach to taunt him.
Then, he noticed the others.
A ring of at least a dozen lean, hungry rats sat on their haunches in the shadows, their yellow eyes glittering in the dim light as they awaited their chance.
It was the last straw.
~~~
In That Same Desolate and Disgusting Dark Alley,
Wracked by Pain and Misery and Guilt,
And Weary to the Bone of it All.
THE RATS WERE gone, having just enough shrewd rodent instinct in their makeup to recognize a berserk, uncontrollable source of danger when they saw it. And heard it. Jake’s rage was no doubt a monumental, or possibly cataclysmic, event in their small, secretive lives. Being practical animals, they chose the rat version of discretion over valor, disappeared into their various hidey-holes, and hunkered down to wait out the storm.
Jake, on the other hand screamed and ranted and threw garbage at their retreating forms, cursing them and their offspring for generations to come. And then, spent, he collapsed to his knees once more. Burying his head in his hands, he wept silent tears of defeat—out of strength, out of energy, out of hope.
Hope however, like Truth, has a mind of its own. Even deep into his fog of despair, Jake felt the warmth of Hope against his back and saw its light growing around him.
Azrael had arrived.
Refusing to look at the angel, Jake whispered, “Go away.”
“No.”
“I can’t do this anymore, Azrael.
“You can, Ja—”
“No! I can’t! None of it. Why would you even imagine I could? Mother, father, brother, wife . . . son. I can’t take another loss like this. I won’t!”
“Let me—”
“Stop! No more! Just let me die and be done with it. I swear, I’ll do it myself if I have to. Even hell couldn’t be worse than this. I’m begging you, Azrael. End this. Please, please, end this.”
Azrael’s sigh was weighted with sorrow, his hand heavy on Jake’s shoulder. “All right. I will end this misery for you, but I will do it my way.”
Jake felt the angel drop down beside him, kneeling in the dirt and muck. “What are you doing?”
“You have been holding a vigil here for two days. I am sorry I could not come sooner, but I am joining you now. When we are finished, I will help you obtain that which you seek.”
“Give me your word.”
“I give you my word. I will do everything in my power to end your pain.”
They knelt together in silence over Dodger’s body, Azrael’s benediction whispered so softly, Jake couldn’t make out the exact words, but it comforted him, nevertheless. After a few more minutes of shared silence, Azrael rose and helped Jake to his feet.
“Now we must leave this place.”
“What are you talking about? Leave Dodger here alone? I won’t. Not ever!”
“I promise you I will take proper, suitably respectful care of Dodger’s remains. He will not stay here in this alley. I owe him and you that.”
“Swear it.”
“I do so swear.”
“Then I’m ready to move on to Heaven, or hell, or whatever’s next. Now, please.”
“Not here, Jake. Come.”
Jake hesitated, but Azrael held out his hand.
“In all my centuries-long existence, I have never broken my sacred word, and I will not do so now. Come with me.”
Too exhausted to argue, Jake took Azrael’s hand, and let himself be led to the front of the alley. Azrael halted and whispered a few words.
Dodger stepped from the shadows.
Jake stared, uncomprehending, and then he collapsed.
~~~
In the Latest No-Frills Atlanta Motel Room,
Down for the Count, But About to Learn,
What Love and Forgiveness Really Mean.
“JAKE? WAKE UP. It’s me, Dodger. I’m right here with you. Please wake up, Jake. You’re scaring me.”
Jake opened his eyes to the impossible sight of Dodger leaning over him. What the hell? He had held Dodger as the last breath left the boy’s body. And he’d stayed beside him, in varying degrees of consciousness and sanity, for a very long time. Two days, Azrael said. Dodger was dead. But Dodger was talking to him.
Afraid to believe what he saw, he raised a shaking hand to the boy’s cheek. It was warm. Solid. His breath hitched as he croaked out, “Dodge? Is it really you?”
“It’s really me.”
“I don’t understand. How can you be here?”
Oh. Oh, crap, no! What had Azrael done?
As if he’d read his mind—and hell, maybe he had—Azrael’s face appeared over Dodger’s shoulder. “Welcome back, Jake.”
“Oh, my God, Azrael! What were you thinking?”
The angel frowned. “You are not happy to see the boy again?”
“Of course, I’m happy to see him, because I’m a selfish bastard, but this is all wrong. He should be in Heaven. He’s earned it a hundred times over. He doesn’t need to be back here in the middle of all this suffering, working night and day, trying to be sure other people get there. Why did you make him come back?”
“I told you I had a vision, so I was waiting for him when he arrived, and now he is with you again. You no longer have to grieve, Jake. I do not understand your anger.”
“Hello? I’m right here.”
Jake and Azrael turned to the boy, speaking at the same time.
“Dodger—”
“Kid—”
“Could you two let me speak for myself?”
Azrael stepped back, nodding his okay.
Jake struggled his way into a sitting position. His head pounded, his eyes were sticky and swollen, and his throat was raw, but Dodger was standing there smiling at him—something he never expected to see again—and nothing else mattered. “All right. I’m listening.”
The boy considered each of them, then spoke to Jake. “First of all, Azrael didn’t make me come back. I wanted to.”
Jake’s astonishment must have shown on his face, but before he could respond, Dodger went on. “Hell, Jake. I don’t know a single person in Heaven. There’s never been anyone in my life I’ve been as close to as you. Why wouldn’t I want to come back? I get to keep doing what you’ve taught me, right by your side. That’s where I want to be, and what I want to be doing—helping people—only this time, with more power than before. I won’t be getting the crap kicked out of me in some alley again, that’s for damn sure. Umm, sorry, Azrael. Still working on the swearing.”
Jake’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Dodger, you idiot. You picked working with me over Heaven? Why?”
“Because you’re my family, Jake. You’ve been more of a dad to me in the last seven months than my real dad was in sixteen years, and I love you. I’m not going to Heaven until you do, and that’s that.”
Jake turned to Azrael for help, but the angel merely smiled. “You see? I told him everything and offered him his choice. He picked working with you, so I made him an emissary. What else could I do?”
“You could have stayed out of it, for starters,” Jake muttered. “And what do you mean, you made him an emissary? Isn’t this all still a trial run? Doesn’t that council of yours still think it’s a stupid idea?”
“When the boy was dying in your arms, the vision became clear to me, and all of the pieces fell into place. It was meant to be this way. In all things, there is a plan, Jake, even when you—or we angels—do not see it. This is the one for you, and it is why I knew, right from the day you carried him out of that first alley, we had to work together to be sure Dodger lived. It is part of something much larger than any of us, and the two of you are the start of it all. So, I made what I believe you would call an executive decision.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning I thanked the council for their time, dismissed them, and promoted you both on the spot.”
Jake’s mouth dropped open, and the angel shrugged. “Once again, it has been made clear to me that you cannot please everyone. Sometimes you must take matters into your own hands, and do what you feel to be right.”
“You actually promoted us?” Jake looked at Dodger, who nodded, his smile growing bigger by the minute.
“It’s official, Jake. You and I are now the first two emissaries, ever. How about that?”
How about that, indeed.
The three of them talked for another hour, as Jake recovered his equilibrium and made peace with things he had no power to change, even had he wanted to. And, back in the good graces of both Truth and Hope, perhaps he no longer did.
Dodger was happy, and that mattered more than anything. And now that he was over the initial shock of losing him and then getting him back again, he was happy, too—though it would be a long, long time before the images from that dark alley faded from his memory.
Finally, Azrael said goodbye to Dodger, and motioned for Jake to follow him outside.
He’d been waiting for this, ever since Azrael had appeared beside him in that wretched alley, and his shame and guilt were now building by the minute.
He hung his head. “Azrael, I’m so sorry. I regret—”
“Be still.” The angel gave him a smile he knew he didn’t deserve. “I know you are sorry. And I know you did not mean any of those things you screamed to Heaven. It was grief and horror speaking, and a broken heart renouncing God. But Jake, I must caution you that my forgiveness will only take you so far. You must learn to trust that there is a plan at work, whether you understand it or not. Lose control to that extent too many times, and I will not be able to intercede on your behalf.”
“I’m ashamed, Azrael, and I can offer no excuse except the blinding pain and grief I experienced. I wasn’t in my right mind. But I will never, ever forget that you brought Dodger back to me. He’s the son I never had, and I don’t think I would have gotten past his loss. I give you my word I’ll always look out for him, and that I will do my very best to be guided by faith and trust as we go forward, no matter what happens.”
“And that is all I can ask of you, my friend.”
Jake’s head snapped up, astonished at Azrael’s choice of words.
Underneath all the blue glowy stuff, the angel’s eyes were filled with kindness and something a little bit more. “You heard my words correctly. Angels are not given to friendships between themselves, you know. We are more inclined toward relationships similar to military units, brothers in arms, that kind of thing. Having a friend is new to me, but I am learning. And, Jake? I find the idea . . . pleasing.”
As Jake tried to process the thought that Azrael now considered him a friend, the angel opened the door to the room and asked Dodger to join them. Placing a hand on each of their shoulders, he bowed his head and gave them his blessing, then, as he had done the first time with Jake, Azrael bestowed his radiant smile upon them, snapped open his snowy-white wings, and rose into the sky.
Dodger was awe-stricken, still in a daze as they returned to their room. He plopped down on the edge of his bed, lost in thought, then burst out with it. “Damn! That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Exactly how I felt the first time I saw him do that.”
“Bitchin’ wings.”
“Dodger!”
“What? Just getting back into street mode, here. Does he always come and go that way?”
“No. Now he thinks it’s more fun to pop in out of nowhere and scare the crap out of me. Frankly, I’d rather have the big, Broadway-style production.” He paused, still worrying about everything that had happened. “Listen, Dodge . . . are you okay with all of this, really?”
Not a bit of hesitation. “Oh, yeah. This is the coolest thing ever.” Then he stopped. “Well, that sounded pretty high school, didn’t it? But yes, I’m fine with it. More than fine, actually. I’m proud to be an emissary, working alongside you. How many people ever have a chance to make this kind of difference in the world?”
“Apparently just two, so far. You and me, kid.”
“I know. How amazing is that?”
Something else was on the boy’s mind, though, and when he finally told him what it was, Jake was hard pressed not to start crying all over again.
“Jake? Azrael left me waiting in the shadows at the alley opening. I heard . . . well, pretty much everything that happened after we got there.”
Damn. Dodger shouldn’t have had to listen to any of that.
“You asked Azrael to kill you. Would you really have let him do it?”
Jake hesitated, but if this was going to work long term, honesty was the only way to go. “At that point, I might have. I was half-crazy over losing you, and all the other people I’d lost in my life were stretched out in that alley behind you. I was overwhelmed. I’m sorry you heard me.”
“I’m not. I knew you were a man who cared about others, but now I understand just how much the people you love mean to you. I want to earn that, Jake. I’m going to learn everything I can from you, so I’ll be good at this job. I want to make Azrael—and most of all, you—proud of me. And I never want to do anything to cause you that kind of pain again. I should have listened when you said that part of town might be too dangerous. I thought I could handle it, but I was wrong, and my actions hurt you worse than I could ever have imagined.”
Dodger rose, placing a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “I can’t change the stupid mistake I made, Jake, but starting now, I promise to listen very carefully to what you tell me. Especially when you aren’t so sure something is a good idea.”
“Sometimes you’re the one with better ideas, you know. We can learn from each other, Dodge. That’s what teams do. They learn from, and watch out for, each other. Tomorrow, we’ll be out there again, searching for souls in danger, and doing what we can to help. We’ll learn and grow and become the best emissaries in the whole world.”
“We’re the only emissaries in the whole world.”
“Then that will make it an easy goal, won’t it?”
Laughing, Dodger agreed, but later, after they turned out the lights, Jake wasn’t surprised when the boy’s voice came out of the dark.
“Jake? Do I really have to stay in Atlanta while you go back on the road?”
“It’s what Azrael wants. Let’s give it a try.”
He heard the unhappy sigh loud and clear. “Okay. If you say so.”
The room grew quiet, and Jake lay thinking about the events of the day, desperately trying to focus on the miraculous parts and not the horrific ones. Eventually, it all fell into place in his mind, coming down to one thing. Hope. Tomorrow was a new day, filled with hope for the people who needed them. And Dodger was back. Jake could live with that.
He rolled over, punched his pillow a few times, and slipped into dreams of a big rig humming its way across a seven-mile bridge, surrounded in every direction by brilliant turquoise water.
Jake smiled in his sleep. He was going home.
There you have today’s offering.
Stay tuned for the Epilogue TOMORROW.
Decided to make it an Easter present!
The Write Stuff 