The Children of Wisdom Trilogy Page 4
I hesitate, fear starting to slow my steps, but I feel the angels push me forward.
“Fate, do not fear this moment. We are with you now.” Their voices are deep and terrifying, but I can tell that in their own creepy way, they’re trying to soothe me.
Knowing I have no choice, I continue to put one foot in front of the other and march blindly toward my future.
After what feels like an eternity of walking, I arrive at the end of the mist. I find myself standing at the edge of a cliff, somehow looking down at both the heavens and at Earth. I’m not ready—not remotely.
“Godspeed to you, Fate,” the angels say together as the ground beneath me disintegrates… and I fall.
The fall is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. The rush steals my breath away, but as my body begins to adjust, I start to absorb what I’m seeing below me.
At first, there’s only darkness, but then, I see a brilliant light. Soon, the earth is revealed to me in all its beauty. I see the clouds—including a hurricane over the Gulf of Mexico—the continents, and the oceans. I see my new home in all its glory, and the sight brings tears to my eyes. It’s impossible to deny all I am losing, but I will be gaining so much too.
I lose all concept of time as I fall, and my mind starts to wander.
What will happen if I land in the ocean? Would it be better than landing on the ground? Will the impact kill me? The Keeper implied I could die, but God also said I would wander the Earth forever. I tend to believe God over the Keeper. So, I will survive, but what kind of existence will I have? As Earth looms larger and larger beneath me, I realize I’m about to find out.
I come crashing down in the swamps of Florida. As I watch the peninsula grow larger and larger as I approach, I land right in the middle of the Everglades with a thunderous crash. The water and muck spray out around me on all sides, creating a crater that quickly fills in with water and slime. I’ve been left with nothing. No money. No transportation. No food. Nothing but the shimmering gold robes of a Fate, which will look ridiculous on Earth. To make matters worse, I’ve landed in knee-deep water, and the robes are already soaked through to my skin. I take a step forward, more to keep myself from getting stuck than anything else. I have no real direction just yet.
A gator swims past me, but I don’t feel any fear. If anything, I’m fascinated to see one in the flesh. The novelty wears off quickly, though, and my dire situation starts to sink in, much as I continue to sink into the muck. I don’t try to walk any further. In fact, I sit back and let the water soak me up to my armpits.
The isolation and desperation I feel sitting there in the swamp threatens to overwhelm me. Michaela’s face and her problem flash in my mind, giving me a brief sense of urgency, but the muck of self-pity quickly smothers it.
“What’s the point?” I say out loud. There’s nothing I can do to help her. I am beyond offering or receiving help. I could sit here until the end of time and watch the whole world die around me. I’ve been banished. I feel humiliated. I am a Fate, but I’ve been reduced to sitting in a swamp with nothing to live for. All because of Kismet. Kismet.
A thought occurs to me. I’m on Earth. With her. I could find her.
I have no idea how much time passed while I was falling. Time passes so much more quickly on Earth than it does in the heavens. When I stopped watching her, she was in her twenties, just about to meet her true love. The thought makes me stand up straight, creating a splash of water that startles some of the wildlife around me.
Will I interfere with her fate? Can I? What do I expect her to say if we meet? She won’t love me. Not in a million years. I know this because I’m the one who created her perfect love. So what would I even hope to accomplish by meeting her?
I let my head fall back to watch the clouds float above me, a true marvel to behold.
Closure, I think. I can have closure.
Several problems are staring me in the face at the moment, the most immediate one being that I’m stranded in the middle of a swamp. I look in all directions, searching for some kind of indication of civilization, some possible savior. All I hear are the sounds of the swamp—cicadas, frogs, and an occasional splash in the water. Nothing helpful. It’s so blasted sunny out that I can’t even navigate by the stars. The sun is to my left, but is it rising or falling? Before I can get too frustrated, I hear a mechanical sound. The loud rumble almost sounds like an engine of some kind.
My mind races at the possibilities. What if I’m seen? I have the appearance of being human, most heavenly beings do. Besides their massive wings, even the angels look human. But my clothes will be a dead giveaway that something’s up. Judging from my recent bout of bad luck, I’m liable to end up in a mental ward with some of my more unsavory creations.
But if they keep going, it’ll take so much longer for me to get out of this mess. The sound gets closer, and I know my time to debate my options is running short.
Six of one, half a dozen of another. I squirm out of my robes, having decided that I’d rather be found naked than dressed in a heavenly robe. I’m struggling to get my gold sandals off my feet before the airboat rounds the corner. Once I do, I sink the garments into the water and stand on them.
As the airboat approaches, I realize there’s no way they’ll hear me over all that noise. If I duck into the water, they’ll go right on by. Then I’ll have the freedom to make my own way out. But the temptation to reach out to the first human I’ve ever met in the flesh is too great. I crouch there nervously, my head just above the surface, ready to duck down if I change my mind.
But once I see them, my heart starts racing. This is it. The desire to make contact is too strong to deny. I start waving my hands, keeping most of my naked body concealed underwater. The airboat driver slows the boat dramatically, and I know I’ve been seen. The boat slowly ambles toward me.
“What the blazes are you doing out here?” the driver asks after cutting the engine and lowering his headset. He’s a large man, with a piece of grass between his teeth and a thick southern accent. His passengers, two adults and three kids who appear to be a family, seem scared, but the father—a clean-cut man in cargo shorts and a white polo shirt—immediately gets up from his seat and lays down on the boat, reaching out for me.
I hesitate. “I’ve lost most of my clothing in my…” I pause. Instinctually, I feel I shouldn’t tell them anything. But I’m not accustomed to lying either. It’s immoral, and so not something we do in the heavens. There is no need. “In my travels.”
The airboat driver just sits back and smiles, as if I’m not the first naked man he’s come across in the swamp. I eye the children, seated in the back row near their mother, but the man’s hand doesn’t waver. “We’re not leaving you here. No matter how naked you are,” he says, staring at me earnestly with big, brown eyes.
“There’s a blanket in the tool box, if one a y’all wants to get it,” the driver says.
The woman goes to the toolbox while the man grabs my arm, and the force of the connection steals all the breath from my lungs. I made this man. Spun him from nothing. I see his entire life play out, and I know his purpose. He’s kind, compassionate, and emotional, quick to both anger and forgiveness. I made him and his wife, a beauty with short, dark hair, huge, ghostly gray eyes, and olive skin, for each other. They’re two parts of a whole, and together, they made a beautiful family. It is wonderfully jarring to see my work in the flesh.
I must’ve visibly startled at the man’s touch, because he reaches around with his other hand. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
The man looks into my eyes with such compassion; I can’t help but take his hand with my other arm. We work together to get me out of the muck. It takes some doing, and we rock that little airboat around quite a bit, but after a few minutes of struggling, I manage to clamber onto the boat. Within moments, I’m properly covered.
Without hesitating to ask me any questions, the driver fires up the boat, and we’re off. Though I get plenty of curious gl
ances from the family, they can’t speak to me on the way back to the dock because of the noise. There wasn’t an extra headset on board, but I don’t mind the racket. It gives me time to come up with a story. An explanation. Something.
As we race back toward the dock, I feel like my brain is still stuck back in the muck. I’m not thinking fast enough. I can’t concentrate on coming up with a story when the wind is in my face, and the astounding noise of the airboat is filling my ears. It’s an absolute assault on my senses, which are accustomed to the ordered world of the heavens. I can’t decide if I should block it out or let it wash over me.
But before I can arrive at some middle ground, we arrive at our destination. As we pull up, a few workers meet us at the dock to help tie up. I can tell from their uniforms that they’re all a part of the same tour group. “I see you picked someone up, Marshal,” one of them says to the airboat driver.
“This here is a gen-u-ine swamp man,” Marshal says with a smile. I don’t see what’s so funny about it.
Neither does the man who helped me onto the boat. “What’s so funny?” he demands.
“I find a lot of things out here in the swamp. It’s not as rare as you might think to find a man out there, though it is rare to find one alive. Not even a nibble taken outta ya by a gator, a snake, or any other of God’s creatures?” He shakes his head and whistles. “You got some luck.”
“If getting stranded in the middle of the swamp is luck, I’m not sure I want it,” I say.
The man who pulled me from the muck chuckles. “My name is Cody. And this is my wife, Aida, and our three children, Columbus, Eve, and Kareena.” He puts his arm around the lovely woman, who cradles their three children between her arms. They’re all staring at me with their mother’s eyes.
“I’m very sorry to have cut your tour short.”
“This is way cooler than any gator we might’ve seen in the swamp,” Columbus says with a sparkle in his eyes. He seems to be between the two girls in age, maybe about eight. The older girl next to him—whom I assume is Eve—elbows him, and he yelps and rubs his arm.
I smile at them, grateful these nice people were the ones who found me.
“What happened to you? Is there anything we can do to help?” Cody asks.
“Thank you, Cody,” I say, side-stepping the question. The others are all leaning in a bit, as if waiting for my answer. They’re in for a disappointment. “You’ve already shown me such kindness. I truly appreciate it. I think I’ll be all right from here.”
When we clasped hands earlier, I saw how hard Cody worked for this family vacation. How many extra hours he put in before they left home, and how much he dreads going back to work because his boss is a real jerk about letting people have time off. He has a tendency to make an employee’s life miserable for weeks after they come back as punishment. But Cody has missed so much time with his family that he finally put his foot down. He knows in his heart he’s finally made the right type of sacrifice.
And I agree. The move will lead Cody to look for other employment. It will be hard for a while, but the new job, the one he never would’ve looked for otherwise, will be so much better for him and their family. I smile in excitement for them. If I take any more of their time, I worry I might impact that delicate future.
“Oh, come on now. We can at least give you a ride into town. Maybe take you to a hospital or police station so you can report what happened?” Aida suggests.
I hesitate, and Cody pushes. “At least come back with us. I have some extra clothes you can have at the hotel. You’ll need something to wear until you can get yourself back home.”
The tourism workers look on, watching this act of kindness unfold in silence.
“We have to go back to the hotel anyway. Just come with us. It’s not out of our way at all,” Cody tries, one last time.
I look back at Marshal. “I’d take the offer, man,” he drawls. “Lord knows you ain’t getting nothing from the likes of me.” He chuckles. I know the man isn’t the most upstanding citizen, a true grey thread if there’s ever been one, but at least he’s honest. That’s something I can respect.
“All right then. Thank you, Marshal, for stopping.”
The man nods, and with that, I’m on my way to civilization.
When we get to the car, Cody offers some dirty clothes to me for the ride—a pair of pants and a shirt. I can tell he’s embarrassed, and Aida is clearly mortified, but I appreciate the gesture.
“Hey, it’s still cleaner than me. I just spent a few hours in the swamp.” The kids laugh as they climb into the huge SUV, and I slip on the pants and shirt before piling in after them.
The hotel is a long way from the swamps, which doesn’t surprise me much. After a few miles of strained silence, I laugh to myself. From the covert looks they keep turning to give me, I can tell the children are just about bursting with questions. Even though Cody and Aida have more tact, it’s clear they’re almost as curious. I decide to ease their minds a bit. After all they are doing for me, they deserve it.
“I never explained what happened to me, did I?” The three heads of the children whip around to the back, where I sit alone in the last row. Two of the kids still sit in booster seats, so it really takes some work for them. Aida looks curiously over her shoulder too, and Cody tips his head slightly to the right to listen while keeping his eyes on the road.
I clear my throat, searching for the right words to use. This will be difficult because I still don’t want to lie. “Let’s just say I fell.”
“I told you he was an angel.” The youngest, who looks to be around six, whispers loudly to her sister. Eve eyes me with wide-eyed suspicion, obviously starting to believe her little sister.
I smile at her. “I’m not an angel; I can tell you that for sure.” Kareena frowns with disappointment. Eve keeps staring at me, as if she knows instinctually there’s more to me than I’m willing to reveal, but she keeps quiet.
Columbus has much more fantastical ideas about my origins. “Are you like James Bond? Did you fall out of a flying jet while trying to disarm some enemy nuclear device?” He’s talking a mile a minute. “Or maybe you jumped out of an airplane, and you landed in a secret location in the swamp in order to communicate with aliens?”
A good, long laugh claims me. “You have a wonderful imagination. Never lose that.” Columbus looks at me in expectation, waiting for an answer, and I chuckle again. “No, I’m not a spy or anything fun like that. I just seem to have stumbled on hard times. Stumbled quite badly, it would seem.”
Aida and Cody share a look, and I hurry to make light of my situation, so they won’t feel obligated to do more than they already have. “But things are looking up. I have direction.” Aida and Cody glance at each other again, having a silent conversation, and I feel there’s nothing more I can say to comfort them, so I look out the window and watch the landscape change from swamp, to dense woods, to scattered homes, to urban sprawl, and then to city.
I try not to focus on how overwhelming it is to be in the car, watching the scenery fly by firsthand. It’s an exhilarating rush that can’t be appreciated by watching cars from above. I need to be present with this family, but my senses tug at me, demanding attention.
“And what exactly is that direction?” Cody eventually asks.
I debate telling them my true destination. Could it be a coincidence that this family of New Yorkers found me in the middle of a Florida swamp? They all eye me, waiting for my response, and I decide now’s not the time to test my ability to lie. “New York.” I try to picture Kismet in the city as we continue our drive on the busy Florida highways. It makes me smile to think of how happy she is.
“Daddy, that’s where we live!” Columbus shouts.
“We are going home tomorrow,” Eve offers.
Aida looks back at the children, and then looks at me, her gaze full of uncertainty. I can tell she wants to help me, but she doesn’t want to risk her children to do it. And who can blame her? She has absolu
tely no reason to trust a stranger with her most precious gifts.
“Don’t worry. I know my way around. I’m not in any kind of hurry anyway. I’ll get there when the timing’s right.” Nothing more is said about it. At least, not right then.
Their hotel is in the heart of Orlando, and the children regale me with tales of their trip so far, all the theme parks they’d visited, how much Kareena loved meeting Mickey Mouse for the first time, and how Columbus puked on The Incredible Hulk roller coaster. I love hearing it. This family I’ve created loves their lives, and I couldn’t be happier for them.
Eventually, we stop for dinner. The conversation is light and easy. I find human food delightful. It’s so different from what we have in the heavens. Eating there is more of a social occasion than a necessity. We don’t need to eat, but we do it anyway to be near each other. It’s a social act entirely, though, and our diet doesn’t much vary from the somewhat tasteless wafers that are our staple.
At the kids’ insistence, I order something called a cheeseburger, fries, and a brown, bubbly drink. Its fizziness tickles my nose, and the burger is greasy and delicious. It’s a completely wonderful experience, and I hope the obvious enjoyment I’m taking in the food doesn’t make me appear too odd to them.
No one asks me any more about who I am, or where I’m from, but I can tell by the way Cody and Aida look at me that they have more questions. Questions they don’t want to ask in front of the children, for fear of the answers they might get.
When we arrive at the hotel, it’s after dark. Their suite is large, and it features a separate room with beds for the children. Once they’re all bathed, brushed, and ready, they’re ushered off to bed. Eve protests, but Cody and Aida insist she needs a good night’s sleep before the long days of travel ahead.
Once we’re alone, Cody and Aida sit on the couch, and I sit in one of the lounge chairs across from them, each of us with a glass of wine.