of religion is fairly evident. My dad and mom were never ones to go to church. About half of Roseland goes to Our Mother of Sorrows, the local Catholic church. Different faiths head to nearby towns to worship. I asked Big Eddie once why we didn’t go. He told me that a man should be free to choose to do as he pleases on Sundays, even if it meant watching the Seahawks. I never argued with the logic of my father.
The names are familiar (Raphael and Michael, Gabriel and David) but he might as well be speaking in Latin for all I understand. It might be too early for an angel hierarchy lesson. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “What does this have to do with Roseland?”
“It’s the pattern,” he explains. “I can see threads weaving out from Heaven and down toward Earth. They form shapes. An outline. A design for each human being on the planet. Think of it like… like a loom, and these threads are woven, a plan for an individual. While I can’t see them being woven, I pick up the ends of the threads and follow them. There are signs in them, signs that I have to watch for, of actions that I must take, or actions that I must not take. And they’re all connected, some way or another. You humans are more connected to each other than you could ever realize. You may not see it, but I do. I see it every day.”
“And this is God telling you to do this?” I ask, incredulous. “How can you know if you’ve never even seen him?”
“Faith, Benji,” Calliel says, like it’s that simple. And maybe to him it is. “I have faith that my Father knows what he is doing, that he knows what is right. That he has a plan for the way things will turn out.” His eyes darken and he frowns at this last, but the moment passes. I almost call him on it, but I don’t know what he’d do. He still scares the royal fuck out of me.
“And God does this for everyone on this planet?”
He laughs, and it’s a big sound. “Everyone here and everywhere else.”
“What do you mean ‘everywhere else’?”
“Questions,” he growls at me, but there’s a small smirk there. “Always with the questions. There are more… places… than this one.”
I hold up my hand. “I don’t want to know. I’ve already got too much going on inside my head to know that there are aliens.”
He grins at me. It’s almost feral.
“Can you see my thread?” I ask, feeling ridiculous.
His eyes light up. He nods. “Started again this morning. I can see them. Feel them.”
“What does it look like?”
“It’s blue,” he says immediately. “It’s blue and strong. Far stronger than you could ever know. It’s so bright. So bright and strong.”
“Oh,” I’m unsure what to do with that.
It’s blue. Everything I have is blue. I don’t know where the thought comes from.
The river, my father’s voice whispers in my head. It all comes back to the river.
“One last question,” I say, considering.
Calliel sighs, but waits.
“You said I called you and you came, right?”
He nods, his eyes starting to cloud over.
“Have others done that before? You know, other angels?”
At first there’s nothing, and I think I’m not going to get an answer, but then he shakes his head, just once.
“You’re the first?” My skin feels cold.
He nods tightly. “That I know of.”
“How did you—”
“No more questions, Benji.” He boils over, showing anger for the first time. It’s a deep thing, a dark thing. I shiver again. “I’m doing what I have to do. So many damn questions, all the damn time. That’s all you do. That’s enough for today.” He glares at me, flexing his crossed arms, as if daring me to ask another question.
“We’ve got to see about getting you some clothes,” is all I say.
We’re seated at the table, his mood suddenly shifted toward happiness again
(which might or might not have to do with the Lucky Charms in front of him). My stomach growled as I got dressed and I realized I hadn’t eaten anything since the previous day, and it was now almost noon. Trying to keep it light and from sounding like a question, I asked him if he ate food. He was still glowering at me after I made him put a shirt on while he told me that he consumed a “sort of energy” around him when he was