Chapter 5 Thomas

When Lauren collapsed into Isiah’s arms, his joy turned to sheer panic. “No, no, no!” he yelled at her. “Wake up! Oh god, please wake up.” He gently slapped her cheek. When she didn’t respond, he checked her vitals. They were weak, but she was alive. Her head was in his lap. He was caressing her face and hair lovingly. Tears were in his eyes, and his hands visibly shook.

What I was seeing wasn’t the Isiah I’d known for years. If I didn’t witness this firsthand, I wouldn’t have believed it. What just happened to him? First, he never panics. Second, not once, ever, have I seen him remotely approaching tears. Lastly, his hands were shaking. Something very serious was wrong with him. I didn’t know what, but I was going to find out. It occurred to me I might have been set up by this messenger.

It was apparent Lauren wasn’t waking up right away. We decided to call an ambulance. The ambulance came, and it wasn’t until they started examining her did she begin to come around. After speaking to her privately for a few moments, they decided to take her to the emergency room.

“Hey brother, I can’t help but notice you aren’t yourself. Who do I need to shoot to fix things?” He just smiled weakly at my joke.

“I don’t know. I don’t honestly know.” I was puzzled still.

“Who is she exactly?” He looked at her as she left in the ambulance. “That is a complicated answer, my friend. I’m not sure you would believe me if I told you.” I just looked at him closely, trying to gauge his answers. He wasn’t telling me something which wasn’t like him.

“Try me. My tolerance for the strange and unbelievable has been considerably improved recently.”

It was painful to see how red his eyes were from crying. The night started normally. Now he looks like he is on the edge of an emotional breakdown. I should have known something was up when he verbally assaulted that poor woman earlier. He could be mean about being approached, but he was unusually harsh.

Finally, he answered, “I’ll tell you but not now. I want to be at the hospital for Lauren.”

I nodded and watched him go noticing he was armed. For the first time since we met, I had serious reservations if him having a weapon was a good idea.

After they left, I sat there in the booth thinking. Yes, I am guilty of doing that on occasion. The eye-opening encounter with a sex demon followed by the rescue by what? A messenger? Was that an angel? If so, she was a little bit of an asshole, not what I expected of angels. I’ve never given thought to how angels should behave. Her warning about Lauren not living long echoed inside me.

I’ve known Isiah for quite a few years. During that time, I wondered if he wasn’t living up to his true potential. He could be very intense, yet there would be moments of considerable kindness and compassion. He has a fantastic ability to fight, but he always seemed broken even if you put aside the problem with his manhood. I just attributed it to his shitty upbringing. However, when he came into that bathroom and saw each other, there was a remarkable shift in his personality. His eyes lit up as I’ve never seen. It was like he was waiting for just that one woman to walk into his life, corny, right? Everyone else could “fuck off,” as he would not so eloquently put it. Nobody else but me would ever be able to see it. Maybe they would, who knows. The whole room felt lighter. That is until she collapsed.

Seeing her for the first time, I had my doubts. She was so thin to be almost emaciated. Her platinum blonde hair was thin, and makeup did little to hide the darkness around her eyes. She might have been good to look at once, but now, not so much. It was easy to see she was sick, and I did not doubt that the messenger was right. She wasn’t long for this world. Why couldn’t Isiah fall for someone who would live a little longer? If this were his choice, I would back him no matter what. I would be dead in Argentina right now if it weren’t for him.

I ran across a half-Japanese assassin once who used to work for us during Vietnam. I learned a bunch from him. He taught me that most people have a varying amount of a ‘danger vibe’ about them. If you were told someone would rob a bank and watch people who walked in, you could spot the culprit most of the time. It could be lots of things, the way they look around, the way they walk, or their posture at any time. You could tell this was a person ready to do bad things or could. I’ve learned to hide, but Isiah is at the other end of that scale.

Coupled with his size, he could never hope to be inconspicuous in a crowd. He is also a good-looking guy making him memorable. The only people who actively approach him are utterly clueless about a danger vibe or someone who doesn’t care and will find it attractive. The latter case means a woman needs to be exceptionally aggressive herself.

Therefore, a woman’s cold approach never works. She wants something from him he can’t give, and he knows it. He will politely refuse at first, and if she doesn’t get the message, he will become less polite. He does nothing to hide his danger vibe for this reason. It makes it easy to filter out women he doesn’t want to approach him. He understands there is a lot of grey area in this philosophy of his.

Every once in a while, he does have a good time with a woman, just not sexually. Some just want to be friendly, and that’s what is hard for him. What I witnessed earlier with Lauren was so far out of character for him to be nearly a miracle.

Then there is that damned demon. I never believed in demons. I would have thought the whole story was bullshit if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. Now, I need to become a demon fighter for real? What the fuck?! I assumed my killing days were over. I figured my biggest problem would be how to set up a trust for some rich prick with more money than god.

Demon or not, if my boy has some fighting to do, he won’t do it alone. I wish I understood why. Since Isiah will be at the hospital, I’ll head to church to talk to Father John in the morning.

The following morning, I found myself in the most unlikely of all places, the church. It was just after the morning service. They call it “mass.” That’s an odd name. A mass of what? Why on earth would a church service be called mass? I digress. A priest was cleaning up when I approached him.

“Hello. I’m looking for Father John” I begin

“I am Father John. How may I help you?” he responds kindly.

I hesitate, wondering if he will think I’m crazy. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” I think to myself.

“I had an odd experience last night, and someone told me to come to seek you out.”

“Oh?” he puzzled

“Yes, it’s about a man I’m told you know. Isiah Banner.”

“Is he alright?” he looked concerned.

“He’s fine. It’s just. “I sighed, frustrated how to tell him.

“Would you like to sit down and start at the beginning? Then tell me how I can help.” He offers kindly.

I sit and take a deep breath. “I’m at the bar last night with Isiah, and we just about get into this fight. It all ended up just fine. In fact, it wasn’t 20 minutes later we were sitting and having beers together,” I began. Father John just sat attentively, listening quietly.

“A little while later, I separate from him, and a woman approaches me, and she is probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m instantly in the mood to get down and dirty, if you know what I mean. Begging your pardon Father.” I say a little ashamedly

“This doesn’t sound so unusual so far.” He looked a little uncomfortable in the direction of the story.

“We go to a back room, and we are in the middle of congress when she changes. Her whole appearance changes into a red skin demoness-looking thing with wings. She lunges toward my throat when this black woman dressed like she just came from a Renaissance festival intervenes and kills her.”

“You’re saying there was a murder last night in a bar?” he looked skeptical

I continued as if he didn’t say anything. “So, this new woman says she is a messenger and has a task for me. This task involves introducing Isiah to this woman I later learned was named Lauren. That’s it, introduce them, and that’s all I need to do.”

I looked at him, and he looked like he was contemplating finding a way to kick me out until I said the name, Lauren.

“Lauren Richards?” his tone changed.

“Yes, you know her?” I inquired. He just nodded and indicated for me to continue.

“This black woman tells me that the demon who attacked me was a succubus, and we were likely to be seeing more of that kind. Then told me to come to seek you out. To tell you to gird me in the Armor of God. Whatever that means.”

His countenance was slowly changing from outright skepticism to concern. When I mentioned the Armor of God, he looked outright nervous. He stood up. “Follow me”

I followed him to a passage behind the altar to a room I assumed was his office. It was a small room adorned with primary books and various religious paraphernalia, with a small desk.

“Tell me of your relationship with Isiah.” He questions me, sitting on the edge of his desk.

“We served together in the Navy,” I respond

“In what capacity?” he asks a little keenly

I hesitate as I always do. We just don’t blurt it out.

He held his hands up in surrender. “Never mind, I get it. You fought with him.”

I nodded. “How do you know Isiah?”

He arched his eyebrows. “Isiah? Oh, he’s been a parishioner here since he was a boy. His stepfather started bringing him here after his uncle died. He was a troubled boy when he came, but I’d like to think we gave him a good moral compass during formative years of his life.”

“How do you know Lauren Richards?” I ask

“I only know her from Isiah. They were childhood friends, and his uncle disapproved. He tried writing to her but was beaten severely. He continued to reach out after his uncle passed away, but they had moved.”

“About that. There is good news and bad news,” I begin.

“Oh?” he says inquiringly

“They found each other.”

He smiled broadly. “Good!”

“Not so much Father, she is dying. The messenger tells me she will unlikely live out the week.” Then I proceed to give him more details of the night.

“Oh dear, that’s horrible” he looked genuinely sad.

“I don’t understand why they are attracting so much attention if she is going to be dying so shortly.” I was confused by all this.

“I have my suspicions, but I’m not at liberty to say. What I might be able to offer is some way of providing them a little peace to what little time they have left.” He walked over to his bookcase pulls out a book, and the bookcase slides to reveal a tall safe. Opening it, he pulled out three necklaces, a short sword, and two canteens.

The necklace had an Egyptian-style cartouche with strange symbols on it. “Wear this necklace, and they cannot see nor scry you. You are effectively hidden, provided you don’t attack them. The sword should be obvious. This canteen is holy water.” He instructs

“What’s the other canteen?” I ask

“That’s whiskey. You’re going to need it,” Father John says with a broad grin.

I snort a laugh. “Holy Whiskey?”

“Is there any other type?” he chuckles.

“I need to become a Catholic,” I contemplate aloud. “You have the right of it.”

“Which hospital are they at?” He asks seriously, and I tell him the location. “There’s something else you should know about Isiah?” I began. “Oh?”

“Seeing her might have broken him somehow,” I tell him truthfully.

In what way?” He questions.

“He is always so calm and self-assured. To the point, he seems unshakable by anything. What I saw last night was anything but what I usually see. I’m worried he is on the verge of a breakdown. Seeing her drop in his arms cracked his armor somehow.”

“He cares about her a great deal. Everyone is entitled to grieve if they are in danger of losing someone they hold dear.” He patiently counseled. “Yes, I get that. What I was seeing in him was a fundamental shift in his personality.”

“Do you think he is a danger to himself or someone else?” he looked slightly concerned. “Father, yesterday morning, I would have told you there is no way anything in heaven or hell would crack the armor of that man. This morning, I’m not sure. I do know he is armed. However, he can do lots of damage without being armed.”

“I will most definitely pay them a visit at the hospital. I’ll see for myself if there is any concern. If so, I promise I will do my best to address it. I have experience in these matters.” He assures me.

“Thank you, Father. I appreciate your help,” extending my hand.

Shaking it, “Think nothing of it. That’s why I’m here.”

My cell phone rings. It’s Isiah, and I answer, “Hey, brother,” Isiah responds. “I need you to pick up something for me at my apartment.” He gives me instructions to head to his place before I meet him at the hospital.

I arrived at the hospital shortly after retrieving a small box he tucked away in his apartment. It held old paperwork. Asking for Lauren Richards, I was directed to her room. Along the way, I noticed several angels hanging around. They weren’t doing anything precisely but mostly standing around. I’m not sure what was different, but it appeared I was seeing angels everywhere. My life has certainly taken a turn for the strange.

When I arrived at her room, I saw the same angel standing just outside the door to her room as the one I spoke to last night. The attractive black woman noticed me but didn’t say anything. So, I stood next to her, not saying anything at first. I waited until the staff was all clear before turning to her.

“Introduce them? That’s all? I’ll have you know because your stunt that friend of mine is on the verge of a nervous breakdown.” I scolded.

She just looked at me briefly, then looked away, almost bored. “What are you so afraid of?”

“What am I afraid of? I don’t know that man, if he loses control, has the capability of being the most feared and prolific killer in recent history.”

She only looked at me, almost bored. “Yes, that COULD happen, I suppose. That’s overstating it a bit isn’t it?” I was shocked at her callousness and had to wait for staff to walk past again before they became concerned that I was arguing with the wall. In a moment of inspiration, I took out my phone and pretended I was arguing with someone on the phone.

“That’s a cavalier attitude you are playing with so many lives at stake.”

She turned to me and looked directly. “Then have some faith in your friend. You undervalue the importance of your place in his life. He will trust you have his best interests in mind. I will tell you this, that woman NEEDS to be in his life too.”

“You want me to hang his emotional stability on a woman who will be lucky to see the next full moon?”

“Yes,” she replied simply.

“What is so important about her that he needs to go through all this?” I demanded, but she only replied with silence. I looked at her in disgust and put away my phone. Opening the door carefully, I saw Lauren was in a private room and was asleep. Isiah was sitting by her side, holding her hand. His head lowered, and it appeared like he was also sleeping. What surprised me was there was another individual there also. It was another angel, and he was standing behind him and to the side. The difference is his brown hair tied up in the back, in a manbun. His hand was on Isiah’s shoulder, and their eyes were both closed. In a moment of revelation, I knew Isiah wasn’t sleeping. He was praying. His mouth was silently mouthing the words.

I stood there silently a moment before taking a seat. I left Isiah to his moment. It wasn’t getting any easier coming to grips with how upside down my life has become. Finally, he kissed her hand and suddenly realized I was in the same room.

“How long have you been there?” he seemed mildly alarmed.

“Not very long. If you were going to be much longer, I was going to head to the nurse’s stand and start collecting phone numbers.”

I was pleased to see him smirk a little, and I asked. “So, what’s this box all about, and are you going to tell me about Lauren?” He only sighed and sat down. Manbun watched me silently, and I ignored him. I needed to avoid looking at his hair, or I was going to start laughing.

“I’ve had odd experiences recently. The kind of experience that is best described as out of the body. Last night at the bar, just after you left. An older man celebrating his 100^th birthday came in. He noticed me and swore I was the same person who served with him in world war two. Said I looked precisely like him. When he told me who he thought I was, he replied Petty Officer James Banner. I told him that was my great-grandfather. He was struck dumb for a while, refusing to believe I wasn’t the same person. Thomas, get your phone out and do a quick search for NCDU 45.”

I did, and when I saw the picture, my eyes went wide. “Holy shit, that’s you! How is that possible?”

“No,” He said patiently, “That was my great grandfather. The older man sat down and told me a story about how my great grandfather saved his life, and they were part of the pre-invasion of Normandy. Nothing unusual so far? He hugged me just as he left. Just then, a lifetime of memories came screaming into my head. Memories of me as my great grandfather in Paris, at Normandy and afterward.”

I was a little skeptical but said nothing. Isiah noticed the look on my face. “Thomas, I asked you to get that box. That box was given to me by my father, and I have never opened it. Yet, I can tell you precisely what the contents are. I want you to dig out a letter in that box. It was written by James Banner on September 16^th, 1944, two weeks after Normandy. He found an English artist and commissioned him to draw a picture of a woman he fell in love with during his time in Paris. The woman was part of the French resistance and sheltered his unit for a time before the invasion.”

Opening the box, I rifled through the contents looking for the precise letter he mentioned. When I found it, I dropped the box in shock. I held in my hands a hand-drawn picture of Lauren. “Dear God, that’s her! How?”

“No, that is Laure Collet, a French resistance fighter and daughter of a wealthy vineyard owner. Thomas, this is the part you won’t believe. When the older man hugged me, all the memories flooded into me. I experienced my grandfather falling in love with Laure, fighting the horror of Normandy, writing all the letters, the end of the war, him growing up, working as a carpenter. Thomas, they weren’t just in love. They bonded in a way I can’t describe. When they did, that’s when his ability to shoot improved so dramatically. It’s the same ability I have now. Except before meeting her, he couldn’t do it. They were desperately in love and were set to be married. He got permission from her father, and they flew back to LA to meet his parents when a drive-by shooting ended her life and nearly ended his. I felt his loss. It was so massive and consuming he quite literally cracked emotionally. He tracked down the gang and slaughtered them German Nazi-style. He eventually had a son, but since he was so screwed up, all he did was emotionally scar the child. That scarred child was my father’s father. So, as you can imagine, I was flooded with the emotional loss of Laure, then I saw Lauren walk in and pass out. I feel I’m only barely holding it together.”

I lick my lips, a little nervous to ask my next question. “Isiah, may I ask you a favor?” when he nodded, I continued. “Since you are having such a tough time with all of this, will you hand me your weapon, please? You know why I’m asking.”

His eyes narrowed angrily for a moment, and I felt panic rise in my chest before he sighed. Pulling out his beretta, he handed it to me along with the holster. A relieved sigh left me as I put it away.

Thinking further about his story and not wanting to believe something so crazy. Clearly, he was convinced of it. Yet, I see two pictures 80 years ago of individuals looking exactly like the two in this room. I glance at Manbun, who only nods in agreement.

Isiah continues but avoids talking about what just happened, “I think we are being reincarnated. Somehow we always find each other, and it never ends well.” Again, I noticed the angel nodded.

A weak voice came from the bed. “Yes,” we both turned to see Lauren awake and looking at us.

“You believe me?” Isiah asks her.

She licks her lips, and in the same perfect French accent as Laure replies, “Amour, you came back to me as you promised.”

Isiah gasps and takes a few quick steps, and in a moment, leans down and kisses her. Tenderly at first, then with increasingly more passion. Her hand grips the back of his hair, and I turn away to give them a moment of privacy. It was the first time I’ve seen him kiss a woman with passion. Yet he did it like a pro and without thinking. So, he was either kissing girls on the side or did have memories of an earlier life with her. Seeing how I was the only one to be seeing an angel in the room, I’m hardly the one to judge.

The noise of them kissing finally abated. I turned to see the pair looking at each other. Staring was a more accurate term. Lauren’s hand was on his cheek, and she was smiling. Continuing her French accent with tears in her eyes. “My heart is happy again.” Her voice was weak

“You remember too?” he asked to which she nodded and spoke in her regular voice.

“I know what you’re feeling. I’ve had these horrible memories for months now. It started just after I got engaged, and the memories just kept coming. No matter what country I went to, I had a new one, Greece, England, Italy it didn’t matter. I’ve watched you die so many times I couldn’t take it anymore. I was in LA once when everything felt different. I broke off my engagement and decided to spend what little time I had left trying to find you. Only I found out through Thomas you were the same little boy who got in so much trouble for bringing me daisies.”

Isiah held up her daisy bracelet. “That’s how I knew. I didn’t forget.”

“I have so much to tell you” her hand was still touching his face. “I’m very sick, Isiah. It was because of a careless sexual lifestyle I had while in college. I didn’t even know I had HIV until I fell extremely ill. By then, I was already stage 3 or AIDS. It opened my system to cancer which seemed to have spread throughout my body. The doctor told me I have two weeks, perhaps a month at most.

Isiah clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut. “My love, look at me.” She ordered.

He opened his tear-filled eyes to look at her. “Please don’t do what you did last time. Don’t you see? We found each other again. We are eternal. I believe that with all my heart. It won’t be long until we meet again.

“Call me selfish, but I don’t want to wait for the next life. This one works fine.”

She gave him a pitying look with tears in her eyes also. “Thomas, will you give us a few moments?”

I nodded and stepped outside and saw the angel still there. I need to learn her name, I realized. Pulling a chair up next to her and sat down with my head in my hands. I felt her looking at me. “Do you still feel he will become the monster you feared?”

“No, but seeing the despair in his eyes, he is more a danger to himself,” I replied sadly, fearing it to be the truth.

“What do you think is happening to them, Thomas?” she asks innocently

“According to them, they are being reincarnated over and over,” I reply.

“Yes, but how?” she asks innocently again.

“I’m afraid there you have me. My religious knowledge is restricted to knowing what day of the week to attend church.” I didn’t mean to sound like a smart ass. Apparently, it’s how I’m wired. She sighed.

“Angels are the only ones who can come and go at will from heaven. They have the direct blessing of the Father.” She instructed.

“You’re saying they are angels?” I was floored! Isiah was far removed from being angelic.

“Are you familiar with the term seraphim?” she asked, by which I just shook my head. “They are the offspring of an angel and human union.

I tilted my head to look at her. “Are you saying angels like to get it on too?”

She looked confused. “Get it on? On what?”

I felt like teasing, “You know, a little boom boom, assault with a friendly weapon, baking the potato, cave diving?”

“I get the idea,” she reproved, a little annoyed

“Getting laid, getting it on, nutting the gut, parking the beef bus in tuna town.”

“Will you shut up?” she snapped

“Tell me, have you ever hidden the bishop? Ridden the bologna pony?” I teased further.

“Enough!” she demanded

“In all seriousness, have you ever?” I signed two fists bumping. “No, I have not!” she was indeed mad.

“Why not?” I asked seriously.

“It’s frowned upon by my kind” I pause a long moment in reflection of her answer. “You’ve seen Isiah and Lauren look at each other. Do they look like the offspring of union that’s wrong?

She looked at me but said nothing, then looked away. I just shrugged. “Is that how baby angels are made? They have sex with each other?” she shook her head but said nothing. She snapped at me again. “Why are you so interested in the host having sex?” suddenly, she realized what she had said. “No! We are not having sex!” I wasn’t serious, but I was having such fun teasing and embarrassing her I couldn’t resist.

“Why not? Is it because you’re an angel and I’m human? You are a racist!” I playfully accused.

She gave me a withering “Do NOT go there!” look. I held my hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just saying we would have awesome seraphim babies. You could teach her how to glare.”

“Her? What makes you think it would be a girl?” She took the bait.

“Or him, boys glare too. Isiah is quite good at it. Are we negotiating now? We could go best of three if you like.”

For the first time since we met, I saw her smile a little and chuckle. She looked at me sideways and shook her head. I smirked, reveling in a small victory.

“Back to topic, are you saying those two are seraphim?” she only nodded.

“Wow!” I just drew the word out, trying to wrap my mind around it. “So do all seraphim come back to life as they do?” She shook her head. “No, seraphim cannot leave heaven on their own”

“Then why do those two?” I was puzzled. “They are more powerful than they realize.” I thought about that. “If they are so powerful, how come they keep dying so easily?” she sighed. “Because while they are here on earth, they never find their divinity.”

“Their divinity?” I asked, then she said. “Yes, it’s what gives them their strength. If they truly had it, they would be very powerful.”

“What does it take to get their divinity?” I ask, and she shakes her head. “I’m not completely sure. They’ve never found it.”

“Then what does it take for other seraphim?” I asked, and she responded,

“It depends, but usually it’s something they find in themselves or is awakened somehow.”

“Then how do you know they are so powerful?” There was something she wasn’t telling me. “Because they can leave heaven at will, and no other seraphim can.”

“Do they know they are seraphim?” I tilt my head, wondering what she isn’t telling me.

“No,” she says simply. “But I’m hoping you will be the one to give them the news.”

“How will that help them now? She is dying,” I say critically. She turned to look at me. Then she spoke slowly as if to a child.

“Because Thomas, as full seraphim, they are immune to a lot of things. Most of all, disease. The forces that put that obstacle in their path didn’t think that through. If those two can figure out their divinity, then things will change quite drastically.”

My mind raced with possibilities. “Why are you so forthcoming? When just last night you were so tight-lipped?”

“If you were to ask the right questions, then I could give you some answers.”

I grinned broadly. “I could kiss you right now” She rolled her eyes and shook her head, but I saw traces of a smirk. “In your dreams.”

“You will need lots of penance for inhabiting my dreams, but you have my permission. Be warned it can get pretty crowded, and clothing is not permitted.” I kept smiling at her. Hopefully, no one was watching me. I was losing track of my surroundings.

“I would never consider it.” She deadpanned

“You wait. When we have our three beautiful little seraphim babies, and you are begging me for a fourth, you remember this moment.”

“Remember what?” she countered

“Ugh, you forgot about our children already! You wound me.” I pretended a heart attack. I held my hand over my chest, which was wrong to do near a nurse’s station.

“Sir! Are you okay?” Came the voice of a concerned nurse. Maybe she was a nurse. She had on hospital scrubs, so they all look the same. They are all nurses in my mind. Unless they’re doctors, they have white coats. “Yes! I’m excellent!” I say quickly.

“You were holding your chest and looked to be in distress. Are you sure you are okay?” the nurse looked concerned