Wings
Their mom's voice continued in the background of Jesse's mind, now exploding with flashes of words. What did she just say? She said it like she was telling us about a new puppy. This was not a topic that ever crossed her mother's lips, or anyone's in the family for that matter. Jesse was the earth muffin, the ‘sensitive' one, the seeker, but even angels were a bit out of her league. She was stunned. She took a deep breath and looked over at Julia, then burst out loud laughing at her expression: stark terror, no other words for it. Jesse could have knocked her over with a feather and jokingly reached over and grabbed her wrist as if to check her pulse, but she was beyond jokes. It takes a lot to render Julianna Claire Mason speechless, and Jesse considered this a momentous occasion. She pressed pause.
"Jules, are you okay?" She asked cautiously, ready to spring into action.
It took several moments to get her brain to register Jesse's words, and then formulate a response, all the while keeping a horror-struck look on her face.
"What did she say?"
Instead of answering, Jesse asked a question she knew the answer to.
"Do you want to watch the rest of the tape?"
"NO!" She cried. "No, I don't want to watch the rest of the tape. What is she talking about? What the hell is she talking about? Conrad knows about this? This can't be happening. Does this mean Jarrod is, too, ah, hell, I forgot to call Jarrod." Remembering this was a good sign, Jesse
thought. It meant she was lucid and not going into shock.
"Julia, I don't have any answers. What can I do for you right now?" Jesse asked sincerely. This leg of the trip was solo. They'd catch up to each other later. Eventually.
"Nothing. I don't know. This is insane. I'm going to call Jarrod and let him know, crap, I don't even know what to say to him. God, I hope he's asleep." She left the den, and Jesse heard her going downstairs. This was pretty big news, and Jesse had to hand it to her folks for originality. She'd gone to cancer, an ill relative, even divorce, but not this.
An angel. What did this mean? The message of the cab driver came into her head: Do only one thing.
"Which one thing would you like me to do first, God?" She asked facetiously. In all her studies, she had not delved into angels, so intellectually she had nowhere to go. Probably just as well. She thought angels were messages or messengers from God. Did this mean we had special powers or some sort of dispensation? She didn't feel any different, of
course. She guessed she wouldn't if she'd always been one. Have I always been one, she wondered?
Do I experience life different from non-angels? She tried to remember the Bible passage about taking care as angels are among us and we are unaware, but knew she'd have to look it up later.
Had the source of this information been someone other than her folks, she might have been tempted to consider it a koan, like: we're all angels, and at some point we all get told this, but for the same reason no one says anything, and we walk around with this code of secrecy shared only by some special handshake or whatever.
Mom said we had a mission, she remembered. The weight of that one pressed on her, and she felt the familiar mental scramble to solve the riddle. Her whole
life she most hated the question, "What are your goals? What is your passion? What are your dreams?" It was like an automatic pressure valve was triggered by these inquiries, and she had to come up with a legitimate, presentable person on the spot. Despite all the self-help books, workshops and counseling, Jesse could not unblock the fortress of fear shielding this answer. She let this go for the time because it made her anxious. She sat on the couch content to let her mind peruse the information she'd just received, and had the thought that a nice, hot bath sounded good right now, when she heard Julia coming back up the stairs.
"Jarrod was just getting into bed. He's so good. He has to be to school at six." She looked beat. They both probably looked beat. Jesse wanted to be alone with her thoughts and prayed Julia had shut down enough to not want to talk any more tonight.
"Jul, I want to go take a hot bath, sleep and talk about all this tomorrow. Wanna draw for rooms?" A playful tradition born of their surroundings, the first night of each visit they drew straws for the available guest rooms. They were all vacant tonight, but Jesse threw it in for continuity and levity.
Julia's eyes watered at the mention of this family tradition that would now be a thing of the past.
"No. I'll go to Africa, if you want Tide Pools. But I don't want to talk about this tomorrow." Julia said weakly, an uncommon tone for her.
"I know." Jesse offered compassionately as she got up and went into Tide Pools.
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