tree slams into the boulder. The crack of bone is audible above the water and rain. He screams in pain and tries to move. The tree’s strong branches have caught on the boulder and it’s stuck, pinning him against the rock. He struggles weakly and spits out the rising water from his mouth.
I close my eyes. It’s dark again.
“No,” Cal moans. “Wake up, Benji! You gotta wake up!”
I hear my father singing about a river.
“Benji!”
I hear Abe telling me he’s going to take care of me.
“Father!” Cal bawls. “Why won’t you answer me! I’m begging you! Don’t you
take him from me! Don’t you dare!”
I hear great wings spreading, and suddenly I’m lifted off the ground, rain and wind rushing over my body as the angel Calliel takes flight, hurtling toward the sky.
“Stay with me, Benji. Please just open your eyes.”
I want to tell him it’ll be okay, that I just need to sleep, but I can’t find my voice. I want to tell him how I feel, and that I’ll wait for him, no matter what it takes. I’ll find him, again. If I go to the place known as Heaven, if it is a real and tangible thing, then I will tear down his Father’s door until my voice is heard and we are together again. This, I promise him.
“I love you,” he whispers as he weeps.
I know. I love—
I am swallowed into the dark.
the white room
I open my eyes in a stark white room. There is no pain. There is peace, but it
feels fragile, hard-won. It feels like it could be taken away with just a word. This thought causes me to ache. Now there is nothing but pain. My chest hurts, though there’s no wound there. My wrist hurts, though the skin is unblemished. My ankle hurts, though it’s not swollen. My shoulder hurts, thought it has mended.
My heart hurts because it is broken.
“Just breathe,” a strong voice says.
I can’t help the bitter tears that fall. It’s not fair. It’s not fair.
I turn my head, pressing my ear against the bright white floor.
The archangel Michael sits in a white chair, looking strangely dapper in a deep
blue pin-striped suit. His leg crosses the other at the knee. His white wings spread out behind him, almost blending in with the room itself, but they’re just off enough to be noticeable. They’re a beautiful thing, the feathers shiny and silky smooth. Michael himself is as handsome as I remember. There’s an empty chair next to him.
“Breathe, Benji,” he says kindly. “I know it’s difficult, but I need you to breathe.”
I need to get away from him. I need to get out of this place. I push myself up, ignoring the twinges in my body, almost blinded by tears. I gag and taste river water at the back of my throat. I press up against the walls, sliding my hands along the smooth surfaces, trying to find a catch, a handle, a door, anything that would allow me to escape this room. I go from corner to corner, again and again. Michael says nothing as I circumnavigate the room. The only thing in the room that’s different, aside from the chairs and Michael, is the faint outline of a child on one of the walls, like their shadow has been flash-fried into the wall.
Eventually, I can move no more, and I stop, leaning and panting against the wall, sweat dripping from my brow. Michael looks at me and nods to the empty chair beside him, then sits back and waits.
“Am I dead?” I ask him finally, unable to look him in the eye. “Did I die?”
Michael hesitates, as if unsure how to answer. Or as if he doesn’t want to answer. “It’s close,” he finally says. “It’s going to be up to you, I think. You have been tested greatly, Benji. But it is not over. Not yet.”
“Why me?” I say, wiping my face. “Why is he doing this to me? What does he want?”
“Who?”
“You know who.”
He sighs. “My Father.”
I say nothing.
He gestures to the chair next to him. “Sit, Benji.”
I almost say no just to be defiant, but I don’t have the energy. The glaring white of the room is starting to give me a headache, and I can’t stop my eyes from traveling to the burnt outline of the shadow on the wall. It looks so small.
I nod once and sit in the chair next to Michael. It’s surprisingly soft, and I sink into it. “What is this place?”