Triune Page 10

  “Oh, well... looks like me. I guess,” he stammered. “Supposed to be Michael the archangel, yes I know, irony not lost on me, and he’s attacking some dude. Oh. Actually, that looks like the dude in the alley, come to think of it. Huh.”

  Barrett nodded, then turned to Brian. Their youngest took a swig of soda to wash down the pizza, looked at the label for a moment, distracted, then nudged himself out of his own distraction.

  “Right. Sorry,” he said with a little sheepish grin. “Middle one’s me, turns out, hair and features and everything. And yeah, the woman being healed looks like the woman in the car wreck. So what do you think it means? Mr. Jefferson was a psychic? Predicted this stuff somehow?”

  “Good question,” said Barrett, still studying the windows. “You told me one time that he was compelled to make them?”

  “Yeah. Said the glass told him what to do. For all these windows, actually, not just the angel ones.” Brian realized belatedly what he’d just said, a little shiver going through all of them at the word. He cleared his throat. “Said he was guided. He made them for himself, they weren’t commissioned pieces.”

  Barrett nodded, gaze moving between the panes. The tree still drew his attention, but he was studying everything now. No angels appeared in any of the other windows, and the collection seemed random. He rubbed his chin and got up, walking over to give them a better look.

  “Ow! Dammit...” A shiver went up his spine as he picked the glass out of his foot, but then, to his amazement, the pain stopped almost instantly. It took him a moment to realize that the wound was healing itself.

  “You all right?” Brian called over to him.

  “Yeah... fine now.” He gingerly walked back over and sat down, nothing but a hole in his sock to show for where the glass had been. A little smile crept up on his face, then he chuckled softly. “That’s pretty damn cool. Need a new sock, but...”

  “Oh! Did you... did it..?” Brian left it there and grinned. They all knew the answer.

  “Yeah. Healed.” Barrett found himself smiling a little more. He looked up at them, eyes glittering a little, then suddenly ripped his socks off so that he was standing there barefoot in his suit. Then he brought out his wings, leaving all of them gasping from the feeling. They stared at him as if he’d lost his mind, then looked at each other, then back at their oldest.

  “Flying,” Barrett said, matter-of-factly. “We’re going flying.”

  Mike raised an eyebrow at him, but Brian grinned like a kid.

  “What... right now? Now, now?”

  “Yes. Get up, bring ‘em out. Or do I have to go by myself?”

  Brian didn’t have to be told twice, he was scrambling to his feet before Barrett was even done speaking, bringing out his own wings at the same time, a bemused smile on one side of Mike’s face. He packed the dinner things into a neat bundle, ran it into the house quickly, then locked the door and brought out his own wings as he strode confidently back over to them.

  They nodded at each other, then pushed off at almost the same moment, the moonlight reflecting off their glossy feathers. More lustrous than satin, softer than a lover’s whisper, the barest rustle of feather against feather as they rose into the night sky. The new muscles felt good, wanted to be used, despite their newness. This flight, unlike the last one, was bliss for Barrett. Arms open at his sides, eyes closed, he felt the warm yet cool spring night air caress his body and wings, heard his brothers near him, their feathers shifting, their soft voices, their breathing. Everything was heightened now, all their senses more than human.

  They felt closer than ever, more connected. If one of them strayed a little, the others could tell where he was, even with eyes closed. They flew higher and higher until the twin cities of Reno and Sparks were laid out under them, but unlike the previous night, it was the three of them now. They circled on the thermals lazily, not needing to speak, until finally Barrett slowed himself and he was merely floating, motionless. His brothers saw what he was doing and came up level with him, the three of them hovering in the night sky, wings immobile and half spread, looking down at the lights below.

  “Incredible,” he murmured. The sound of his voice was almost shocking, as if nearly breaking a spell but not quite, the familiarity of it in such alien circumstances sending shivers up their spines. Like a dream.

  “I feel like I’m gonna wake up any second,” Brian said softly, his voice almost disappearing into the open space around them. It felt more intense somehow, even though he’d been out flying with Mike the night before. His middle brother touched his wing gently, and Brian nearly jumped out of his skin, but grinned at him.

  “Sensitive, aren’t they,” said Mike, stating what was becoming obvious to them all. “Can feel every little breeze and touch.”

  Barrett nodded, smiled at them, then tucked his wings and arms back into a power dive, like a hunting falcon. Brian laughed suddenly, the sound musical and full of joy, and he did the same. Mike could only shake his head and chuckle, then mimic the power dive to keep up with them, watching the white of Brian’s feathers receding into the darkness. Not that he needed to see them – he could feel exactly where they both were below him.

  He noted this, filing it away for future reference, and followed them as they dove toward the lights, Brian zipping into the lead and heading back toward his studio in a fluid left-hand arc. He touched down lightly on the roof, Barrett behind him and taking a little stumble, stubbing his toes on the plywood where the skylight had been. He was still spitting out the last of the expletives when Mike landed gracefully next to them.

  “Should have worn shoes,” he said, smirking and holding up a booted foot.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Barrett said back, chuckling a little as the pain vanished. “Just a bad landing. I’ll get the hang of it. Only my second one.”

  “True. But...”

  “And yes,” he said, cutting Mike off. “I’ll be sure to wear shoes.”

  Mike, satisfied with the answer, snickered and clapped his older brother on the shoulder. Brian nudged at the plywood with his feet, which were safely inside his hightops.

  “Insurance lady was here. I didn’t like her much. I don’t know if they’re going to pay out or what,” he said with a sigh. Barrett’s brows lifted.

  “Not pay out? What was her reason?”

  “Dunno, just had a bad feeling about it. Can’t put my finger on it. And she was all over me about you, Mike,” he said, looking at his middle brother.

  “Me? But I don’t even know her,” he replied, confused.

  “No, I know, but she found out that the guy who’d fallen through my skylight was single and a Navy SEAL and she went all funny. Gave me her number and everything.” Brian wrinkled his nose at the idea of his brother getting together with her. Mike snorted softly.

  “Yeah, I don’t think so. Some random woman. I don’t even want...” Mike let his words trail off, his gaze wandering off to the horizon. He was only just back stateside after having been nearly killed in a war zone, and being with a woman was the last thing on his mind. Which was strange, considering that it was nearly the only thing on most of his buddies’ minds over there. At that moment, however, he had no idea what he wanted. It didn’t seem as important as it once had.

  Barrett looked at him for a minute, then realized his brother was lost in his own thoughts, so he continued on the previous topic.

  “Look, tell you what. I’ll go ahead and pay to get your skylight fixed, and if and when the insurance pays for it, you just reimburse me. All right? You need to have this fixed right away for safety, and theft, and if it rains, and the light inside...”

  “Seriously? You mean it? Oh, Bear!” Brian hugged him tightly. “That’s... I need the light, especially, for my glass.” Barrett chuckled weakly as his youngest brother nearly squeezed the air out of his lungs. Finally he peeled him off so he could talk again.

  “You’re welcome. Call some contractors tomorrow. And get it done just like it was before. Historic.”


  Brian nodded enthusiastically and circled the plywood patch with a calculating look. Barrett found himself watching his youngest brother, Brian’s white wings tucked behind him and forgotten for the moment, Barrett suddenly keenly aware of his own. They twitched and ruffled a little, then settled into a comfortable position, warm against his back.

  Mike glanced around, didn’t see anyone, and drifted lightly down to the ground where the impromptu picnic had been. Something prickled at his awareness, however, and a slight movement out of the corner of his eye made him turn fully in the direction of the front door and the slim alleyway beyond, black wings half spread in an alert stance. A Hispanic boy was there, almost a young man, and he held an unlit Saint Michael novena in his hands. Even from across the distance Mike could see the fear in his eyes, the glass jar threatening to slip out of his shaking hands. The other two joined him just as Mike put his wings away and put his hands up, trying to radiate calm at the boy, whose eyes now darted between the three of them.

  “Hey,” Mike said to him softly as the other two looked at each other. “It’s okay. That for me?”

  The young man looked down at his hands, having completely forgotten the candle was even there, then looked back up and nodded, eyes wide. Mike took a few slow steps forward, hands still up, smiling a bit. A distant streetlight illuminated his face just enough for the kid to see.

  “Thanks, that’s really cool. Appreciate it. What’s your name?”

  “...Javier...” he whispered.

  “Hi, Javier. I’m Mike,” he said, cautiously closing the distance and putting out his hand to shake the boy’s. Javier didn’t move, however, and only nodded at what he already knew – of course the angel’s name was Michael. Just like on the novena he was holding.

  Mike’s brothers, meanwhile, were simply standing together and watching, wings tucked behind them neatly. That was when a woman came up the street to see what had happened to her son, who was supposed to have been back from the mini-mart thirty minutes earlier. When she saw the big, muscular figure of Mike standing close to him, she stopped and called to Javier in rapid Spanish, eyes huge. Without taking his eyes off Michael, the boy called back in Spanish, and to the brothers’ amazement, they all realized they could understand every word. Barrett and Brian also began to realize, both by her words and the fact that she never looked in their direction, that the woman couldn’t see them.

  Javier’s mother approached slowly, not really believing her son that this Anglo with the scarred up left side was the archangel Saint Michael. Mike smiled cordially at her.

  “Hola. Not that guy, no. I’m not an archangel,” he added to their conversation. They were standing by the front door now, near the alley’s entrance, and he glanced over at the candles that had been collecting, two of them still lit. “Hey, actually... those are gonna be a fire hazard when the grass turns dry. So tell you what. Can you take those to your church instead?”

  “But I saw...” Javier looked between the candles and Mike, disappointment clear on his face that he was not, in fact, talking to THE Michael as depicted on the novena. Mike nodded.

  “No, that part was right. I am. But I’m not him. Wait, sorry,” he said with a little chuckle, “I’m being confusing.” He carefully let his wings back out, Javier and his mother dropping to their knees, the woman crossing herself several times and bowing her head. Mike got down on one knee as well with them.

  “I am an angel. Far as I know, anyway. My name happens to be Mike, or Michael, but I’m not the big guy on the candles. Okay?” He looked earnestly into Javier’s dark brown eyes, which were glued to the huge dark wings that moved gently with each breath. Mike smiled softly and plucked out a medium-sized feather, and handed it to him.

  “We’re around,” Mike said quietly. How he knew there were others, he didn’t know, but if nothing else, logic dictated that there had to be more than just himself and his brothers walking the earth. “We can’t be everywhere, but we do the best we can. Here,” he said, taking the candles out of the alleyway and handing them to the woman and her son. “Take them somewhere safer.”

  Javier gave the feather to his mother, who took it with a shaking hand, and gave her two of the candles to help carry. “Can we... would it be all right if I kept this one...?” he asked, indicating the unlit candle he’d brought.

  Mike shrugged. “Like I said, I’m not him. Just tell whoever’s leaving these things to light them somewhere else, all right? It’s a nice gesture, but I’d rather not burn down my brother’s studio.” He realized as soon as he said it that he probably shouldn’t have, but also remembered that he’d said something about Brian being his brother on that first night to the drug dealers in the alley. If nothing else, he figured, maybe they’d stop breaking into Brian’s car because of him.

  “What about them?” Javier asked, nodding at the brothers in the distance, which only confused his mother. A tiny smile crept up on one half of Mike’s face.

  “Who?” he replied with a wink, and then it was Javier’s turn to smile a little.

  “Uh...” he said, recovering, “...the other angels. That are... around.”

  “Like I said, we do the best we can. Hey, I gotta get going. You should too.” On a whim, he decided to give them a good show, and took a few steps back. They were good people, he knew somehow, and he wanted to give them a little treat for helping to keep the alley clear of the candles, if nothing else. He pushed off powerfully with a muscular sweep of his wings, his brothers deciding to follow, Javier’s mother crying out with surprise when she suddenly saw them as well.

  Once in the air and out of sight of the street, they went for a second flight over the city, finally landing together on top of a tall downtown hotel. Barrett was still barefoot but grinning brightly.

  “Any particular reason for the flashy exit?” He smirked and bumped Mike’s shoulder. Mike shrugged.

  “Eh, they were good people, and I was in a good mood. Thought they’d get something out of it. Felt like I was helping them somehow.” They nodded at him, having a vague sense of the same thing. Like that’s what they were supposed to be doing.

  “Interesting how she didn’t see us until we took off,” said Brian.

  “Yeah, that was a bit... what do you think that was about?” asked Barrett, but he was already turning his analytical mind to the question himself. Mike recognized the look and merely chuckled, then sat on the edge of the building with his feet dangling over, heels lightly kicking the wall as he looked down. He’d never been particularly afraid of heights, but had always had a healthy respect for not falling to his doom. Now, however, any fear or hesitation was simply gone as if it had never existed. It wasn’t as if there was any threat to their safety if they fell. Natural angelic instinct had erased practical human concerns. He smiled to himself as he watched the little cars moving on the little streets, and the little lights changing from red to green and back again.

  Things were clearly changing for them all, moving from ordinary human lives into something extraordinary. And, for the first time since Mike had crashed through Brian’s skylight, none of them minded at all. Even Barrett, once he’d finished trying (unsuccessfully) to puzzle out why the woman hadn’t seen them, was already turning his mind to the advantages, challenges and potential problems of trying to run his company under these new circumstances. One by one they joined Mike on the edge of the rooftop until there were three pairs of legs dangling over into space, wings tucked neatly behind them and already feeling somewhat familiar.

  “You think they’re gone yet?” asked Barrett. “I want to put on my shoes and get some tea.” The others chuckled as he wiggled his bare toes out in front of him.

  “Yeah, let’s go home,” said Brian, standing up on the edge where he’d been sitting. He looked down at the tops of the brightly-lit casinos, then gently pushed off and gained altitude with ease, the other two behind him. It was still new and miraculous for all of them, and they took their time as they flew side-by-side over the
city to the outskirts where the familiar brick building waited. Barrett looked at his watch – only about 9:00.

  “It’s still early,” he said. “Mind if I hang out for a while?”

  “Not at all. Please do,” said Brian, fumbling in his pockets for the keys. “Aha!” he said triumphantly as he pulled them out and unlocked the door.

  The truth was, Barrett couldn’t stand the thought of going back to his half-empty condo alone. He’d gone from trying to survive a few minutes at a time, resisting everything, to trying to ignore the fact that he’d have to leave eventually and go home. They all needed each other even more than they ever had. They felt it, mostly subconsciously at that moment, but had any of them reached out to explore it like Barrett had looked inside himself to see the golden light within, they would have realized that the bond between them had changed to something stronger and deeper. Infinite and unbreakable.

  “You don’t have to go,” said Brian softly. Barrett blinked at him.

  “I wasn’t...”

  “You can stay. I don’t have much, but maybe we can pull the futon mattress out, and...”

  It was Barrett’s turn to interrupt his youngest brother with a warm, close, appreciative embrace. For a long time they just stood there in the middle of the studio, holding each other silently. Mike joined them briefly, giving each a little hug before putting his wings away and going up to get the futon mattress himself. It was strangely easy to wrestle the heavy cotton cushion down to the studio floor, and he glanced up to find his brothers looking at him in surprise. Brian opened his mouth to ask “How...?” but then closed it again without saying anything. Anything unexplained, at this point, actually had one simple explanation that they were all intimately aware of.

  “Campout,” said Mike into the uncomfortable silence, then went back for the bedding. Barrett watched, at a loss for words, as Brian followed to help. Soon they had the mattress outfitted with an opened sleeping bag on the bottom and a few large blankets. Pillows were in short supply, however, so Mike volunteered to use a folded blanket instead. He wasn’t in the mood to fly all the way back to Sacramento for a pillow.