You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘family’ tag.
The boy woke up, shaken and groggy, in an unfamiliar bed. An IV cord was attached to his hand, and he stared at it for a moment before realizing what it was. Monitors beeped by his bedside.
He looked around the room and his eyes fell first on the girl sitting on the chair by his bed, asleep. The morning sun creeping through a crack in the curtains gave her red hair a golden shine. He smiled at the sight of her.
“Good morning,” I said quietly, stepping forward.
He looked up at me, startled, not having realized that they weren’t alone.
“Hello,” he said shyly. “Are you my doctor?”
“Yes, one of them. I’m Doctor Ralph Arches, and the young lady by your bed is my daughter.”
“Maya… No, ” he paused, shaking away his disorientation. Then he smiled, looking at her again. “Mara.”
“Yes. She says you’re her hero, that you saved her before the snowstorm.”
“There were some bullies. I got them away from her, that’s all.”
“Well, she’s refused to leave your side while you recovered from what they did to you. She found you just in time, and led searchers to you. It’s a miracle you’re still alive, you’ve been through a lot.”
“Mostly just some bad dreams, ” he said.
“Oh?”
“Whatever came before doesn’t really matter any more than a dream. What matters is that I’m alive today. And she’s here.”
My daughter woke, and their eyes met. A moment later, so did their hands, coming together over the blanket. I left them in private, and went home to my wife.
Ethan Keaton Pitney died without knowing what killed him. But I, Raphael, knew. I saw. And I could do nothing about it. I remembered the prophecies of the past as I saw the future crumble. Those I loved made their sacrifice while I watched.
When Ethan struck Donovan Reza with the sword, I saw the Beast in a frenzy of pain on the mystical plane, consumed in a lake of fire. But on Earth, I saw Reza use his last moment of life to throw his ceremonial dagger, its razor edge flying through the air like a missile. It sliced through Jason’s throat on the way by, spilling his blood to the roof as he stood to help Mara, finding some measure of courage at last. As Jason died, I saw an evil spirit escape from his mouth, its possession over now that its host was dead.
His life’s blood sprayed in a torrent from his jugular, and spilled into the fiery pentangle. But the blade soared past with the strength of Reza’s throw, and found its true target. The knife buried itself to the hilt in Mara’s back as she tossed Simon Lamb over the edge of the tower, his body afire from the blazing circle. A spirit escaped from his body as the flames consumed it. Mara tumbled after him, the dagger having pierced her heart.
As Jason’s blood poured down, the circle of fire spread into the starred design in its centre, and then the pieces fell inwards, collapsing to the floor below. Fire erupted upwards from within the tower, sending a plume of smoke and ash into the sky. Simon Lamb and Mara were consumed in the flames as they fell through the air. The ground began to shake, torn open by the fires of Hell, and the Citadel itself began to crack in the resulting quake. Reza screamed, a third demon fleeing from his dying body.
Ethan’s holy sword shone like a beacon and a pure beam of white light from Heaven sought it out, striking from above even as fire burst from below. The tower buckled under the strain of these two colliding forces, and erupted in a blaze of brightness, killing everyone in a tremendous explosion. Heaven and Hell opened to begin the last battle.
And I wept, knowing that my daughter was dead.
I, Ethan Pitney, was a fighter growing up. I don’t mean that I got in a lot of fights. I never fought people. I fought to control myself because there were so many situations I had no control over. When no one in your class wants to talk to you and all the other boys pick on you, you grow up feeling impotent in social situations. I couldn’t stop them from trying to hurt me, all I could control was my reaction. As they seemed fuelled by a need to inflict misery on others, I chose to never hurt anyone. I chose to prevent my anger from being expressed.
Now my sister was asking me to surrender that control, to stop fighting. To just let go of something that had defined me since early childhood, made me different from my peers. It went against everything I had ever chosen. Ever believed in. I had accomplished everything in my life through control: sheer force of will.
And now my sister was asking me to trust her and give that up. Trust had always been a problem for me. I might never have been able to make the right decision, but, luckily, I’d had some help.
***
In the desert I had stopped going anywhere until I remembered what my will was capable of. I started walking west, just following my feet, without any clear sense of what to do next. I just knew I couldn’t give up, couldn’t stop moving. It wasn’t long after I started my march that I was interrupted by a familiar voice.
“For a moment there I thought you were giving up,” Raphael announced.
I looked up and saw him reclining on a boulder, as if he had been taking a nap while waiting for me to walk by. But I had seen that rock for miles before I reached it, and knew that it had been unoccupied until just this moment.
“I may have considered it,” I acknowledged. “But it seemed out of character.”
Raphael floated down to the sand on his white wings and then stepped closer.
“I disagree. It’s been a part of your personality for quite some time.”
“Are you trying to be insulting?” I asked calmly.
“No, just pointing out something you have probably never even thought about. Yes, you have tremendous willpower when you’re seeking a goal, and that’s to be commended. But you have a tendency to sulk and withdraw when you don’t achieve what you want, or when the goal doesn’t live up to your expectations.”
“I don’t sulk…” I began to disagree, but then I thought about it. I avoided my friends in university after losing Faith, I shunned classmates after a few were bullies, and I obsessed over Hope when she rejected me.
“Yes, you do. If you’re honest with yourself.” Raphael saw me processing what he was saying. “If you accomplish what you set out to do, you feel good about yourself and the world. When you don’t get your way, you sulk and then fall into depression, taking it out on everyone else by leaving them. I just want you to be aware of that.”
I considered it. “It seems pretty selfish, when you stop to think about it.”
“Do you remember how you made yourself feel better after a bad day as a child?” Raphael asked.
“I’d play by myself,” I said. “Lego, or G.I. Joe, stuff like that.”
“What kind of games?”
“I don’t know. I ‘d tell myself a story, an adventure.”
“Who was the hero of those adventures?”
“I was. Or a character based on me. I lived through my games, and then did the same thing with writing stories as a teenager. Are you saying that I’ve been treating my life as an adventure story, starring me as the hero? When the world doesn’t acknowledge that I’m the good guy, I just block them out?”
“You catch on quick when you try.” Raphael smiled.
“Why are you telling me this?” I asked. I felt extremely foolish, and I wanted to know why he felt the need to bring it up.
“Because it’s not just your story, Ethan,” Raphael said. “I need you to understand that. You have a part to play, but it’s not all about you, and we don’t have time to wait around until you get over your sulk.”
I felt ashamed at these words, and knew my cheeks had flushed. He found a way to make it worse.
“Who are you to sulk over Mara being gone? She’s been away from you for not even a day, and yet you felt the need to collapse and bewail your fate.”
“I know she’s your daughter, and you must miss her when she’s away, but I love her too,” I began.
“I’m not talking about me. Have you ever thought about Mara’s life? How she feels?”
“What do you mean? I care about her more than anyone…”
“Did you care enough to realize that she waited for you for five thousand years? That she’s watched you grow since birth? And she was unable to touch you, talk to you. But you, you have the right to complain as soon as she’s left your sight.”
I turned away, my face burning. “If you’re trying to make me feel like a self-centred fool, you’ve succeeded.”
“I’m not trying to make you feel foolish. I’m trying to wake you up to your responsibilities. And to the fact that this is all about more than you and your adventure story.” He said this from behind me, his tone kinder.
“What do I have to do?” I said, turning to look at him.
“First, you have to let go of that ego. The need to be the hero. This isn’t your story.”
“It’s God’s,” I said, looking up.
“It’s good to hear you say that. But thinking it and trusting in it are two different things. You’ll have time out here to practice, but try and learn it as quickly as you can.”
“Anything else?”
“One more thing,” Raphael said. He waved his hand, and a scene appeared in mid-air, as if someone had opened a window in reality.
I stepped forward and peered into it. I saw my sisters and Mara at my childhood home. It appeared that they had welcomed her into the family. Gwen and Evie were following Mara, though I could not fathom why. I had picture only, there was no sound to this odd ‘television.’
Mara nodded, said something, and then led my sisters through the house, to the basement. Down there she stopped in the playroom, where we had kept our toys for years. On a table against the back wall she showed them my masterpiece, a city built of Lego. I had built it with Gwen before leaving for university, and it seemed that she had left it on display. Using pieces from our castle sets, pirates, towns and space, we had built an enormous metropolis populated by spacemen and archers, pirates with rifles, and knights on horseback.
“I remember this,” I said to Raphael. “Why are they looking at it?”
“Watch,” he said simply.
I did. Mara pointed out one wall of the city, where we had staged a battle all those years ago. The wall had been knocked down, and the city’s army had spilled out to fight another army outside. Some soldiers were knights, others were astronauts with swords, pirates with laser guns, citizens with bows and arrows. We had let our imaginations run wild.
“Remind you of anything?” Raphael asked. I shook my head. “Gwen recognizes it. She holds the answers.” He pointed to my younger sister, who had a look on her face like a light bulb going off. A ‘Eureka’ moment.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, turning to him, but he had leapt into the air and spread his wings, heading skyward. I was left in the desert, alone again.
Man, I got sick of having sand between my toes.
“Follow me.” Mara beckoned, and Evie and I walked behind as she went downstairs to the main level, and then turned and opened the basement door. We followed her down into the dim interior, the only light from small windows along the ceiling.
Mara led us to the playroom as if she’d been there a million times. In one corner was a table, and she stood by it. We stood beside her.
“Ethan and I built this,” I told my sister. “Before he went back to school.”
We looked down on our Lego city. There were forests around it, but the city itself was populated with a mixture of people. We’d used spacemen, pirates, Robin Hood’s men, and built a ramshackle town. Outside were the knights, attacking. The city was using space guns and bows and arrows to defend itself. I think we’d used nearly all the Lego in the house to build the massive scene.
“Recognize anything?” Mara said, chuckling.
Genevieve and I kept staring. There was a hole in one wall of the fortress city, with the fight spilling through the gap, the pirates and astronauts entangled with knights on horseback.
“Oh shit,” I said.
We retreated to the bright living room. I wasn’t willing to talk about my thoughts in the dark basement. It was too chilling.
“I don’t get it.” Evie looked at both of us.
“The city, one wall was destroyed. It let the invaders in, and they killed everyone,” I whispered. “Everyone died, except us.”
“It was a game, Gwen.” Genevieve raised an eyebrow.
“NO! It’s still a game. This has all happened before!” I shook, my fingers clenching. “Lancelot fought Arthur, and this time Gawain killed him. The city was ruined. Oh, this is creeping me out.”
I shivered, sitting down on the couch. I didn’t want to think about this.
“What?” Genevieve asked, concerned.
“You’d better tell her,” Mara said quietly.
“I can’t,” I moaned.
“Tell me what?” Evie asked.
“The Seven Deadly Sins…. he’s going to kill Jason and Neal. Sloth and Pride. Oh shit, oh shit…”
“Gwen? What is it? Tell me.”
“Ethan’s stories. His favourite books. His movies. They’re all becoming real. It’s like, it’s like…” I couldn’t stand it.
Mara handed me a book, and I guess she found it in the pile on Ethan’s bed when I wasn’t looking. I stared at the cover.
Alice through the Looking Glass.
“It’s like the Red King,” Mara told me. “Who’s dream was it, Gwen? His or Alice’s?”
“What is going on?” Genevieve said. “Somebody better tell me.”
“It was a game that we played. They were just stories that he wrote. How is this happening?” I asked Mara. “He built the city, and he destroyed it. How?”
“It’s all chess. You tell me.”
I screamed. My ears and throat hurt, and I fell to the floor. I covered my eyes with my fists.
Genevieve’s arms were around me, hugging me tight until I stopped. I cradled my head in her shoulder, trying to breathe.
“What does she mean, chess?” Evie whispered.
“Ethan is playing both sides. Dan was a knight, Evan and Jason the bishops, Owen and Alex the rooks. Alex castled Neal, to become your consort. But they’re all really pawns. It’s a game, and he’s playing against himself. The Red King dreams it all, and Alice just has to survive the story. But it’s really Lewis Carroll’s dream, and he was imagined by Reverend Dodgson…”
I whispered these words to her, knowing she probably didn’t understand. My voice was hoarse. My eyes watered.
“Ethan is fighting himself, and all he has to do is stop, and the game can end.”
Our farmhouse had a cupola for an attic, giving a view of the four points of the compass. The windows also opened up, allowing us to sit on the roof of the house, if we wanted. Mara spent a solid month watching every sunset from the roof. She seemed to be in love with the sky. I would see her up there, basking in the sunlight, arms spread to feel the wind. I guessed maybe she missed her wings.
One morning, she pushed at me to wake me up.
“Whazzitwhaddawant?” I muttered from under my pillow, trying to block her insistent nudges out. Which translates as “What is it, what do you want?”
“Let’s watch the sunrise!”
“Lemmeloanimsleepingowaynextimemakeapointmen…” I groaned back, holding the pillow over my head. Which was to say, “Leave me alone, I’m sleeping, go away, next time make an appointment.”
“I forgot to ask you yesterday. Come on!”
“I’m not doing this for a month!” I finally said, removing the pillow.
“One time, I promise. Then I’ll handle early mornings myself.”
So we trekked out to the roof. Mara wore a thin white nightgown she’d sewn herself, while I wore my brother’s Glendon t-shirt and a pair of old boxers. I put my hair in a ponytail to keep it from looking too dishevelled. The air was chilly, the leftovers of spring before the beginning of summer. The air was dimly lit, a washed out colour like faded jeans across the sky.
The sun broke the horizon like a blade, piercing, and growing warmer. Mara watched in glee, clapping her hands as it took the sky. I smiled at her childish joy. I remembered feeling like that, long ago. I was only twenty years old and felt like a crone. I hugged my knees.
“Something wrong?”
“I dunno. I mean, you’re seeing the world through your own eyes for the first time, and it’s beautiful. But I’ve been seeing what it’s become in the last fourteen years, and it’s monstrous. Just a weird feeling. Especially because Ethan has something to do with it. I still can’t figure it out.”
“You will.” Mara patted my shoulder. She stood up, letting her fingers run through the wind, closing her eyes.
“What was the deal with the Sherlock Holmes thing?” I asked, tilting my head to watch her over my shoulder, squinting to keep the rising sun out of my eyes.
“What do you mean?” She said, spinning slowly in the sunbeams.
“The Moriarty thing. Ethan wanting a worthy opponent. Like his life’s a game, and he’s bored playing it.”
“You wear his clothes, see with his eyes, read his thoughts. You tell me.”
“What are you two doing?” Genevieve said. She leaned out her window, peeking up at us. “I can hear you from my room!”
“Sorry, did we wake you?” Mara asked.
“Just a little. What are you talking about?”
“Oh, your sister is just trying to piece together the mystery. I’m surprised she’s having so much trouble. There’s a big clue in the basement.”
“What?” We both asked.
I knocked on Genevieve’s door softly, leaning against the doorframe. She peeked out.
“I’m sorry I made you cry.”
“I’m sorry I don’t swear anymore.”
I laughed. She gave a chuckle that was half a sniffle, wiping away the last of her tears. She opened the door and I hugged her tight.
“You don’t need to swear. I just don’t know what’s happening in the world, and I felt like I lost my sister.”
“I’m right here, Gwen. I may not be a warrior anymore, but I’m still your sister.”
“I know.”
Mara was standing a short distance away. She smiled at us both once we were finished with our little family drama.
“I’ve promised to help Gwen with understanding what’s going on. That seemed to reassure her.”
“You know?” Genevieve said.
“Of course I do. I’m surprised you haven’t guessed yet. After all, the clues are all in this house.”
“Ethan’s books!” I said, rushing to his room. The others followed. I gestured at the pile on the bed. “I’ve been trying to tell Evie, it’s all here. Isn’t it?”
I held up the Dark Half and the Fight Club tape. “Donovan Reza,” I said.
Mara just nodded, smiling to herself. I held up The Stand and The Last Battle.
“The end of the world?”
She grinned wider.
“The Lord of the Rings, the Hobbit, The Dark Tower… they’re the Quest?”
Mara almost giggled.
“Come on, what do they all mean?”
“I can’t just tell you. You’re supposed to figure it out. He left everything for you to find, after all. Telling you is one thing, but to understand it, to believe it, you have to discover it for yourself.”
“Are you just saying that to frustrate me, or are you serious?”
“I’m serious. When people really learn something, it’s from experience. You can’t just tell them. If it were that easy, everyone would have faith. Everyone would do the right thing, all the time. People have to learn the hard way.”
“That sucks.” I almost laughed as I snorted in frustration.
“That’s why the first part of the Bible is called the Torah, which means ‘teachings.’ It’s a book to help people to think, to learn, to explore the world. But it doesn’t give easy answers; it gives scenes and parables that must be interpreted through the readers’ experiences. That’s how people learn.” Mara smiled patiently. “I know you’ll figure it out.”
“It would still be easier if you just told me.”
She laughed, a ringing joyful sound.
Mara sat down in a comfy chair in the corner of the living room. She bounced on the cushion a few times, almost giggling. Once finished, Mara folded her hands in her lap and smiled, while we sat on the couch.
“Ethan has been chosen to perform a Task for the Lord. He was chosen before he was born, and designed for this one Purpose.” As Mara spoke, I could hear a special emphasis put on certain words, as if they were of great significance. I capitalized them in my mind as topics to ask about.
“Ethan has a purpose?”
“All humans have a Purpose. Their Dharma. Ethan’s special destiny is this quest.” Mara was smiling with pride. “He is a Champion.”
“What’s he going to do? It has to do with Reza, doesn’t it?” I said, on the edge of the couch cushion.
“His dark half, yes. He will find the Dark One, certainly.”
“When and where? We have to help him.”
“Ethan told us to come home and stay safe,” Eve reminded me quietly. “He doesn’t want us endangering ourselves anymore.”
“I don’t care what he said, he’s alone. When is he coming back?”
“You haven’t detected the pattern yet?” Mara grinned. “You’re supposed to be the clever one, Gwennie girl.”
I glared even more fiercely as this stranger used Ethan’s nickname for me. “You’re not part of this family! You don’t get to say things like that.”
“I’ve been a part of your brother’s life since the beginning, dear girl. I’m not here to be your enemy. Ethan sent me here.”
“Why?”
“Because he loves me.” Mara grinned broadly. “He wants me to find myself, just as I told him to do, so long ago. He brought me here so I would be safe while I learn how to be human.”
“Learn how to be human?” Genevieve repeated.
Mara giggled. “There’s so much to tell you both. My mother was human and my father is an angel. I’m a hybrid, and I was raised in Heaven. I never knew what it was like to live on Earth, and it became my dearest wish. Ethan saw the truth of that, and his sword transformed me into a human being so that I could experience the part of my nature that wasn’t being expressed in Heaven.”
“Ethan used his sword on you, too?” I asked. “Genevieve’s been a proper pill ever since he hit her with it.”
“Gwendolyn Pitney, no one should use language like that.” Genevieve’s tone was soft, but that was exactly what was bothering me.
“Genevieve Pitney, you used to swear like a sailor if you were pissed off. I’d rather you yelled at me, then this ‘Little Miss Sunshine’ bit.”
Mara giggled again. “Teach me to swear like a sailor! Please?”
We both looked at her. Genevieve looked at least as shocked as I felt.
“Um, pardon?”
“I want to know how to swear.”
“I think you’re missing the point,” I said. “Eve isn’t acting like herself, since the sword. And you say that it hit you too.”
“Well, yes. But that makes sense, doesn’t it?” Mara smiled.
“No. It doesn’t make sense. That’s why our faces look like this.” I gestured at Genevieve’s perplexed expression. “We don’t know what the sword did. I’d like my sister back the way she was.”
“I’m glad you feel so confident expressing yourself, Gwendolyn, but I’m afraid I have to disagree,” Genevieve said pleasantly. “I used to be full of anger, and now I’m not. Truthfully, I’m a lot happier this way.”
“How can you be happy?” I yelled. “Most of humanity is dead, and Alex was butchered before your eyes just a few months ago!”
Genevieve’s eyes misted up and she fled from the room sobbing. I sat back on the couch, exasperated. At least something got a reaction out of her.
“That wasn’t very nice,” I heard Mara say. I looked in her direction.
“It was honest.” I folded my arms.
“So was she. Genevieve has been purified of her falsehoods, her sins. Everything she says, everything she feels, right now is the truth of her heart. That’s the power of Ethan’s sword. It reveals truth. I wanted to be human, and now I am.”
“Truth like hers doesn’t belong to this world. It’s full of ashes and death. There’s nothing left for us.”
I stood and walked to the window, which looked out on a sunny yard and garden.
“This, this is a lie. There’s nothing like this in the rest of the world. And I think you know why.”
“Of course I do. And I’ll help you to understand.”
Mara smiled, and I believed her.
No Man an Island 