An Angel Comes Home by Michael John Sullivan

Author:Michael John Sullivan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION/Religious
Publisher: Story Plant, The
Published: 2013-01-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

It was early morning around 4 AM when Dennis arrived back at the Lady by the Bay church. Main Street was empty and a flickering street light distracted him. He stared and wondered when town maintenance would fix it.

His mind drifted back to Michael who bared his soul about Leah. It seemed real. He loves her. How terrible it is for him to carry such guilt. But what could have he done to help her? Elizabeth is his first priority. All this guilt is holding him back from moving forward here. “Yeah, I know about guilt,” he said. He kept gazing at the light, blinking on and off.

A metaphor for sure about how life is so fleeting. Why do we hang on when there’s no hope? Even in so much pain.

He shook his head as if it would dismantle these faithless thoughts and doubts. He pushed the key into the front door and went inside, making a loud thumping noise as he closed it. A lone light shone by the podium. The quiet of the church allowed his body to meditate and relax, finding some peace in a day filled with cruel emotions.

He stood by the podium and looked out at the empty pews.

What do I say this Sunday? So much death and pain out there. How do I talk honestly to them when I haven’t been true to myself at times? What would they think about that night if I opened up to them? Would they abandon me like I abandoned myself?

He went to the vacant manger setup and stared down.

Why? Why did I run away from the truth?

He said a quiet prayer. A faint brushing sound disrupted his thoughts. He took a few steps toward the noise and stood before the basement door. He opened it with caution and listened.

The ruffling noise sounded more like boxes being moved around. “Hello? Who is down there?”

A female voice answered. “It’s me, Pastor.”

“My Lord,” he said, walking down the stairs. “Why are you here at this hour?”

Elizabeth Stewart placed a broom against the wall. “My father is worrying me.”

“What are you doing with that broom?”

She showed the pastor how she stood on the top of her toes to open the highest of boxes.

“Clever.” He walked over to her. “I think he would be more worried knowing you’re here and not home.”

She grimaced. “Please don’t tell him. He’ll ground me. He’s spending a lot of time down here, looking for something.”

“What is he looking for down here?” Play dumb, Dennis. Don’t let on what you know.

She hesitated. “It’s a book. He talks about it all the time. He gave it to you, didn’t he?”

Dennis didn’t answer. He walked around the room and rummaged through a few boxes. “What does it look like?”

“Small, black, had a marking on the front in another language. He said it might have the information he needs.”

Dennis pulled his hand out of a box, froze for a brief moment and turned around. “There isn’t any book like that down here.

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