The Angel

by Kelly in NY

The mist of rain made the night seem darker; made the street shiny; reflecting back the lights of cars and windows. She stayed in her chosen spot, standing in the dark doorway, bearing silent witness to the hubbub across the street.

Within the paved area at the back of the large building--a concert hall of some sort--stood two large buses and a crowd of enthusiastic people. They were waiting--the vehicles and the people--for the large red door marked RESTRICTED to open.

She could feel the surge of emotion within the crowd; the energy they gave off was palpable. It was what had drawn her attention, in the first place.

She had first felt this perhaps more than a year ago. She had no measure of time herself. She marked these passages as mere moments within her own eternity. They spoke of minutes, hours, days, months, years; she only knew the passage of time through the witnessing of their lives.

Sometimes she watched them and felt something within herself that she knew must be akin to envy. The briefness of their passages--their lives--made them experience a richness and depth she could only wonder at. She had seen so many things; felt so many of their lives move past her. Sometimes she felt she would very much like to experience the sharpness and immediacy of a life so briefly lived--a human life.

Her kind moved through the world; rarely, if ever, seen; more often felt, but not as much believed in, as they once had been. The few times recently that she'd made someone aware of her presence, they'd either recoiled from the knowledge of her or seen themselves as being on the verge of crazy. It was the reason her kind chose to walk invisibly, with little fanfare.

In the distant past, those who had been aware of them, had seen them as either deities or signs of the Divine. They had found ways to seek her out; through ritual; through prayer and priests. She was bound to come to them; to answer their calls, but she felt so much now, that it was merely empty gesture--habit--that made them call her down. She grew tired of the blandness she felt from them. She could feel such a weariness within herself.

Tonight, she'd felt a surge of pure, raw feeling emanating from this place; from this crowd of people. She'd come down--come closer--in order to see; to feel the source of this feeling.

The red door opened and the crowd of people moved as one, focusing their anticipation on that exitway. They jumped; waved; gestured; called out to the doorway, now filled with several men opening umbrellas. The crowd held it's collective breath.

She felt their anticipation coming to a peak. Involuntarily, she stepped forward, out of her own doorway, into the light of the street. She watched as the umbrellas lifted and moved forward and a slender man stepped through the door. The crowd erupted with joy. The feel of it staggered her. She looked at them, then back at the man. He was the source of this. She watched him.

He moved towards the buses; in the center of the group of men with umbrellas. He paused here and there, speaking to people in the crowd. She 'reached out' from where she stood; feeling within him a sense of disbelief at this scene he was a part of. She felt his joy at it, but also his reserve at believing in it.

He had stopped walking and was now standing in the crowd, staring. He was full of......She had no precedent for this. She pulled back and focused her eyes back on him, feeling a moment of surprise. He was standing staring at her, as she stood in the rain-wet street watching him. His eyes were wide; his expression, one of disbelief at what he was seeing.

She stepped back, into the shadow, pulling her coat back around herself. She watched him. He was searching the street, looking for her. She reached out to him again and felt the roil of emotion within him and.....something else. She felt him find her. She looked back across the street.

He was being gently herded toward the buses by the men with the umbrellas. His eyes were on her darkened doorway. He felt her; he knew she was there and he had very little fear. She felt something warm move through her and wondered at it. What was this? What was this feeling?

She waited for the buses to pull away, up the street, and for the crowd to disperse happily. She was aware of several people discussing the slender man's strange behaviour. She touched them as they passed by her; assuring they would remember only a happy moment on a rain-soaked street. She stepped out of the doorway and turned in the direction the buses had taken. She felt him again; felt his confusion and the growing sense of disbelief he now nursed. She felt also, the unfolding of her wings; the heaviness of them and then she was airborne, lifting gently over the streets; watching the gridlike pattern of the city at night.

Far below, she felt the buses moving; turning, heading to a place on the other side of the city. She followed; keeping herself from touching him too closely. She felt them stopping and began a slow spiral down, until she was just above them, hovering. She watched the people within disembark and head into the building before her--a hotel.

She could feel the relief of the women, at a night's luxury; a soft bed; a full size tub to soak in. She smiled to herself as she felt their relishment of these things. She saw him step from the bus and felt again his confusion and disbelief, mingled with traces of the joy he'd had earlier. He looked up. She moved higher. Could he see her? He could obviously feel her. She wondered at that. She rose to the roof, setting down lightly; her wings folding about her. She waited. She could feel him; she knew she didn't have long to wait.

+ + +

On the other side of the roof a door opened, casting a rectangle of light out. She stepped back. He was in the doorway, his hand resting on the knob of the door. He held something in his other hand. She heard a small click and a beam of light pierced the misty dark, seeking for her.

She hesitated a moment and then stepped forward, so the light of the doorway just touched her. "You've no need of that," she said. She rarely, if ever, spoke and always marvelled at the husky tone of her own voice.

He started. The beam of light flicked towards her, finding her face and momentarily blinding her. She put up a hand, shielding her eyes. "Please", she said. He clicked the light off. She stepped further into the rectangle of light from the door.

"What are---Who---?" He struggled to find the right words.

She had her own questions. "You can sense me? You knew I was here?"

He nodded, watching her. She couldn't quite make out his face. He was a dark sillouhette in the doorway; the light only touching his back and then spilling out around him. She reached out again, feeling the fullness of his disbelief.

"Stop," he said. She pulled back.

"How can you---?" She shook her head, sending a cascade of water drops showering down.

"What are you?" he asked.

"I don't know what specifically, you would call me. I've been named a deity; a goddess; a faerie by some; a demon by others. Some call me an alien. Most often though, I am called angel."

He shook his head. "No." In answer to this, she let her wings unfold; watching him step back, in complete shock. He put his hand to his face. "But...."

She furled them again about herself. "I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting someone to be so aware. That hasn't happened in such a long time. I can help you. You don't need to carry this confusion."

She extended her hand to him. He stepped back inside the door, letting it close with a thump. She felt him retreat. He was running down the stairs. She could feel him racing to his own room, filled with complete disbelief and now.....fear.

She felt a sharp pain within herself. She moved to the edge of the roof, looking down at the lit windows. She knew where he was; she could feel him pacing his room. She could feel his anxiousness and worry. She stepped off the roof and slowly glided down; coming to rest at the edge of his window. She looked in, seeing him for the first time in full light.

She felt something move deep within her. Even in this frenzied state, he was sublime. She thought of the painters over the ages whose hands she had guided; helping them create such paintings as had never been seen before; helping them to capture on canvas, faces such as this.

He was coming to the window. He pulled back the sheer curtain and slid the glass open. The night air brushed his skin, leaving a light sheen of mist on him. Using an ancient trick she slipped past him, into the room. He turned quickly, at the slight feel of her; his eyes widening at the sight of her there. He staggered back; into a chair.

"I am sorry. I know this is frightening for you. I've felt this before, but it has been so long since anyone could see me or sense me. I didn't expect it. I should have been more cautious. Please let me help you. You don't have to remember any of this. It might be best if you didn't." She watched the play of emotions crossing his face. Within him, she could feel a sense of her own beauty. It rose against his fear. She looked into his face and smiled. His eyes widened and she felt the sweep of warmth run through him. He relaxed within the chair, watching her. "An angel?" he asked quietly.

She spread her hands; her eyes never leaving his. "That is one of the words they call me. I have no words of my own. The names I have are given to me. I just am."

He was quiet for a time. She waited. His eyes were taking her in. The darkness of her hair, still damp from the rain. Her clothing--the only concession her kind made to changing times--her boots, jeans, long, dark coat. Her pale skin and her dark, deeply brown eyes. Her wings--now folded tightly against her back--nearly indistinguishable from her coat; unfurled, they were a soft, reflective charcoal grey.

"You don't look....." He began, then trailed off.

"I don't look like the painted images created by men. There are some of my kind who do. In that, we are not unlike humans. We are diverse; we are varied; we are light and dark; large and small."

He smiled. "I should have known." Then, realizing what he'd said, he sat back shaking his head. An idea occurred to him. He sat up, looking at her sharply. "Why can't my dog sense you? Why isn't she barking?"

She smiled at him again and they both felt the wash of warmth. "Your dog can sense me. She already did. She's been aware of me for a long while. Unlike you, she has no preconcieved images. I'm as natural to her as the air she breathes. Animals, children. They aren't bound by the barriers that adult humans erect."

He sat thoughtfully for a long moment, then looked at her again. "How would you make me forget?" he asked.

"Do you want to forget?" She returned.

"I---I don't know."

She knelt down before him. "Only if you wanted to forget, I would take the memory from you with a kiss. It is entirely your choice."

"No one would ever believe this. They would think I'd cracked for sure."

She nodded. "Yes. Probably."

"What if I don't want to forget it all? What if----" He looked down at his hands.

She smiled. "You are an interesting man. Very unlike anyone I've ever had this encounter with before." She stood up then, holding out her hand. He looked at it for a moment, finally taking it and standing up, out of the chair. He took a step toward her.

She took his face in her hands, looking into his eyes. "Only a moment", she said and kissed him, gently brushing his lips with her own. He sighed and she felt a tingling warmth move into her. She lingered an extra moment, then let him go; aware that, somewhere within her, a decision had been made.

He opened his eyes. She was gone. He was dimly aware of the feel of her, but he couldn't place where he'd felt this before. He looked at the bed. He knew he should be sleeping, getting much needed rest. He went to the door and listened. No one around. He opened it cautiously and peered out. The hall was empty. Grabbing his key-card, he slipped out, shutting the door with a muffled click. He moved quickly up the hall to the stairs. He couldn't say why, but he felt like going out to the roof.

He opened the door. The misty rain was dissipating. The air seemed clearer and a little chilled. He took a deep breath. There was a noise behind him. He turned, peering back at the door. It opened and a small dark-haired woman stepped out. She seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place where he'd seen her before.

She looked up at him, startled. "Oh! I'm sorry. I was just getting some air." She stepped back through the door.

"No! It's okay." he said. She stopped, looking back at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Thank you." She said, coming back out. "I was feeling so confined in my room." She walked to the edge and looked out over the city. "It's so beautiful", she breathed. He looked at her, then out at the view she was admiring.

"It is." He said, in wonder.

"I never knew..." she said softly, almost to herself.

"Never knew what?" he reflexively asked.

She looked over at him and smiled. He was sure he'd seen her before. She shook her head. "I was just musing aloud."

"What's your name?" he asked.

She looked at him. "Angel."

He sucked in his breath. "I know this sounds cheesey, but do I know you?"

"Not that I recall." She smiled.

"I'm sorry. You just seem very familiar."

She met his eyes. "Deja vu?"

He felt an odd sensation move through him. "Something like that."

She turned back to the view. He walked over beside her. She could feel him standing next to her. A warm sense of well-being washed over her. She could feel the dim traces of her disorienting dream slipping away. She looked at his face. He did seem familiar to her; she seemed to have a memory of kissing him. Or was that part of the dream too?

She held out her hand. "And what is your name?"

He looked at her. "You don't know?"

She shook her head.

"I'm...." He took her hand, feeling a shock of recognition at her touch. He blinked. She looked at their joined hands and shivered.

"You." he said. He took her face in his hands and kissed her. The recognition moved entirely through him. "Angel...." he whispered and kissed her again.

-----------------------

This story was inspired by one of my favourite movies: Wings Of Desire by Wim Wenders. It's a story of a lonely angel who falls in love with a mortal woman--a circus aerialist--and makes the decision to give up his immortality for love.

You may contact the author at lucysmisery@att.net.

~ Posted 8.8.05 ~

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