Date: Wed, 10 Oct 2001 11:53:29 -0400 From: Tom Cup <tom_cup@hotmail.com> Subject: Angel - Chapter 9 G/M Y/A Angel By Tom Cup Copyright 2001 by the Paratwa Partnership: A Colorado Corporation. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except in the case of reviews, without written permission from the Paratwa Partnership, Inc, 354 Plateau Drive, Florissant, CO 80816 This is a fictional story involving an adult/youth sexual relationship. If this type of material offends you, please do not read any further. This material is intended for mature adult audiences. Names, characters, locations and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. ************************************************************************ This story is part of the Tom Cup Short Story Library. Join the Tom Cup Library at: http://tomcup.iscool.net to support this and other stories by Tom Cup. New at the Library: The Lion of Bolognia Chapter 10 (Kevin Chapter 24) Calvin, Chapter 27 Angel, Chapter 12 David's Christmas Present (Revised) The Day My Life Began by Miguel Sanchez A Place Called Home, Chapter 6 In Memory of Steve, Chapter 1 Terms of Living, Chapter 2 Tommy -- The Return, Chapter 2 Haying Season (Short Story) Thank you for your support, and as always your, e-mail is much appreciated ************************************************************************ Angel By Tom Cup Chapter 9 Jonathan knelt at the precipice overlooking the hidden monastery. His weariness disappeared as he studied the scene far below. Ten days had past since they left the farmhouse where they spent their first night. In that time, Angel had rarely spoken. The boy rose early and insisted that they travel until late night. Many a time Jonathan wondered if the boy knew where they were going at all. There was no doubt now. "Where are we Angel?" the priest asked in awe. "Home," Angel answered. Jonathan stared at the boy. His face was blank and emotionless as he gazed upon the compound. Jonathan wasn't sure what he heard in Angel's voice: Longing? Fear? Anger? Love? Perhaps, he thought, all and more. "We will wait here for the time being," Angel informed the priest, "Tomorrow during vespers we will enter the compound. There is a telephone, only one, in the rector's office. You must get to it. Call Father Cornelius. Do not speak. Just call, leave the phone off the hook, and try to get back here." "Seems simple enough," Jonathan smiled. Angel sat suddenly on the ground next to the priest. He seemed suddenly old and frail. Jonathan wanted to scoop him up into his arms but the way the boy was shaking his head forbade it. "It will not be simple or easy Jonathan," Angel cautioned, "They are looking for me. Everyone is looking for me." "What do you mean?" Jonathan asked, "Who is looking for you." Angel smiled wearily. "Oh Jonathan," he laughed, "If only I had your faith. But I do not. Tell me, will you die for me?" "You know I love you," Jonathan answered choked by tears, "I will defend you to the death." "Even if I told you that tomorrow, after you place the phone call to Father Cornelius, your life will be forfeit?" Tears flowed freely from the young priest's eyes. Angel sat staring emotionless at the man. Jonathan could only nod. He wasn't sure when he had become captured by the boy but he knew he would do whatever it took to save him. Suddenly Angel began to laugh. "What's so funny?" Jonathan asked. "You," answered Angel, "You want to save me!" "And you find that funny?" Jonathan posed a little annoyed. "Don't be mad Jonathan of Merrimont. I am flattered that you wish to save me," Angel smiled, "Just promise me this, if you are given the chance, you will save my brothers and sisters. Swear this to me and I will know that you love me; that you and I are one." Jonathan turned, kneeling before the boy. He took Angel's hand and kissed it. He then caressed the back of the boy's hand against his cheek before speaking. "I will love you always," Jonathan told the boy, "I will love you with my dying breath, and if I should stand before God and am asked what I have done to deserve salvation, I shall answer that I loved you." ***** The light over the door of room 102 began flashing. The duty nurse noticed it almost instantly. She left the paperwork, which had been her focus, and went quickly to the room. The old woman was sitting up and staring at the door as if waiting for her. Of course the nurse was shocked, no one expected the woman to awaken from the stroke-induced coma. The nurse steeled herself in professionalism and approached the old woman. "Hi my name is Debra. I'm the duty nurse this evening. I `m going to try to make you as comfortable as possible. Do you understand?" The woman nodded. It was a good sign. "Let me try and explain what happened. You had a stroke. It mainly effected the communication centers of your brain," Debra continued amazed the old woman seemed so alert, "We don't know how much damage was done. Dr. Matthews, he's your primary care physician at the hospital, will order the test and care for your needs. For now the best thing you can do is rest." "Tha voy," Marge whispered. "What?" Debra asked in amazement. "The boy,' repeated Marge, "What happened to the boy?" Debra didn't answer. She wouldn't have known how to answer if she had stayed in the room. Everything she knew told her that this woman should not be able to speak. In younger people the recovery from a stroke can boarder on the miraculous, with major recovery within six to eight weeks, but for people in the old woman's age group recovery was rare. The woman had spoken. As far as Debra could tell, she had just witnessed a miracle. She made the sign of the cross at her desk and then placed an urgent call to Dr. Matthews. ***** Brother Lucas paced nervously in front of the main gate of the camp. He had been ordered to wait there for further instructions. It wasn't the order that bother Lucas but that the voice on the phone mentioned Dubricius. "Dubricius will come to you," was what the voice said. The words terrified Lucas and warned him of the seriousness of this meeting. It was rumored in the Church, especially among the low ranking, that Dubricius was a myth: a made up phantom designed to keep the lesser brothers in line. Some said that it was not the Pope that held the power of the Church in hand but Dubricius alone. Of course, one whispered these things in fear, praying that the ears of Dubricius did not hear one speak such blasphemy. The smoke-gray limousine slowed as it approached the waiting Lucas, stopping as the rear most passenger side window reached the priest. The darkly tinted window opened only a few inches. Not enough to give Lucas a view of who sat inside, only of the red hat he wore, but enough so that he could clearly hear the voice speaking to him. It was a harsh, scratching voice, full of richness and wonderfully controlled. Lucas knew that this was a voice of power. "Things have been complicated." "Yes, yes Eminence," Brother Lucas stammered, "Angel has not been recovered. Darcy's training, however, is proceeding. I believe..." "I am not concerned with your belief," the voice seemed to choke silence from Lucas, " Only that you obey The Order. You will concentrate on Darcy. See to it that he is returned to us. Complete his training." "And Angel?" Lucas managed, finding it hard to breath. Lucas heard the engine of the car started and the car click smoothly into gear. "Leave him to me," the voice ordered, "I will not have two centuries of work ruined by novices." ***** "What are our options, James?" Bishop Albright asked. Father Kennedy sighed deeply shaking his head as his right hand cradled his chin. "OK," he said at length, "What do we know? The Church has a little boy secretly under its care and is now aggressively looking for the missing child." "Doesn't sound so bad when you say it like that," Father Cornelius observed. "That's his point," the Bishop realized, "That's how they'll spin this. We'll look like renegade priest with a bone to pick but no legitimate argument." "Yes," Father Kennedy continued, "but I think Darcy provides the real key here. He is our only link to what has happened to the Angel and, therefore, to why the Church is so interested in Angel." "I understand," the bishop replied. "Wait a minute," Cornelius' eyes widened as he began to understand what the two men were talking about, "We can't just take the boy." "If we do not act quickly," Bishop Albright stated, "Darcy will be out of our reach." "Maybe," Cornelius searched for a reason not to walk down the road these two men seemed destine to walk, "Maybe there are things we do not know or understand at work here. Maybe..." "Maybe the Church knows what its doing?" questioned Bishop Albright, "I assure you that it does! This boy was no mute orphan that accidentally appeared at our beloved mission. Something or someone brought him there. This boy starts speaking and the world starts being turned upside down. He disappears and Cardinal Martin, whose own fear was evident in every word he spoke, visits me. He was ordered to find the boy and immediately." Both Cornelius and Father Kennedy stared at each other for a moment before returning their gaze to Peter Albright. He was now sitting wearily in one of the conference chairs shaking his head in disbelief at what he was confessing. "That's not all. After he left I exited the back of the Rectory. I needed time to think. I knew that I had been overly hash on the phone with you, Father Cornelius; I pray you have forgiven me for that. There was a smoke-gray limousine parked near the curb. Cardinal Martin approached the car. The meeting was brief but it was clear that Cardinal Martin was taking orders from whoever was in the car," the bishop paused, "It was him James. I didn't get a good look at him but I am sure of it. He carries the papal signet. By the time I realized, the car had pulled away." "You're positive?" asked an astonished Father Kennedy, "What does Dubricius want with Angel?" "I suppose," voiced Cornelius, "That's what we are conspiring to find out." "Then you are with us," Father Kennedy asked. "I am with you." Send comments to: tom_cup@hotmail.com To support this, and other, stories by Tom Cup, visit http://tomcup.iscool.net