Word Weld

Naomi Elizabeth James–she was a force to be reckoned with. With my temper and my somewhat rough disposition, it took a very special woman to stick with me. Fifteen years is quite a long while to put up with my “bannerism,” as she liked to say, a reference to the Hulk, her favorite superhero. I met her at college. We were both pretty career-minded at the time, with my heart set on becoming a pilot and hers set on becoming a lawyer. We both graduated top of our class, but when I went on active duty overseas a few years later, everything changed. Naomi was a driven individual, but she was rarely outwardly happy. She had her hands on the wheel, I figured, so I’d leave her to drive the way she needed to. But when I was overseas we had a long conversation over video call. She had missed me and was feeling lonely and stressed, and soon after told me she was pregnant. It entered my mind that she might be looking around for other men to relieve her loneliness, and for a while I almost regretted my decision to go into career military service. But I figured I was entitled to this. I worked hard for it, after all.

I came back to the states after my tour was done, and took special assignments stateside. I was the best and I got special assignments, like escorting Air Force One. When I got back, Naomi was far different. She told me she had decided to quit her practice. She argued that we had plenty of money, and that she really wanted to be the one to raise our son, Cameron. I felt at first like she wasn’t pulling her weight anymore, and that we would have to delay some of our long-term goals, but she was firm about it, so I let it go. And when I say “let it go” I mean I fought and shouted about it, but then I stopped shouting and just ignored it.

Yet, in spite of that, she was happier. She began going to church with Cameron during my time overseas, and she kept going, as well as praying and studying her Bible. Occasionally, hesitantly, she asked me to go to church with her. I would always laugh it off.

“Hon, I’ve been as close to the heavens as most men will get, and the view from there’s good enough,” I used to quip. Naomi didn’t laugh.

We fought off and on during this time, more than we used to, because for one thing, we had more contact with each other, and for another she wasn’t the woman I met at college. Even so, we had another child during that time, and I wanted to call her Opal. That was my mother’s name, rest her soul. Naomi wanted to call her Rachel, and after another fight, I let it go. A year later, we had another girl and this time we did call her Opal, but Naomi and I continued to grow apart. She stayed at home all the time, focusing all her attention on the kids, even homeschooling them, which was a fight we had only once, because I knew we’d end up in a courtroom over it. I retreated into work, taking whatever extra duties I could, even teaching, which is my kryptonite. And we fought less the less I was home, but we also grew apart more and more.

Now that I had been discharged, however, it was the perfect time to try to work on my relationship with Naomi. My abilities had always made our fights edgy and difficult, and she often retreated from me, sometimes leaving the house with the kids. So, after my first interview with Dr. Leong, I went job hunting. To my deep annoyance, Jacqueline’s advice turned out to be spot on. I spent long days looking for work, going to interviews, and taking long walks. When I came home at night, I tried not to challenge her on anything, and just spent time with the kids and helped out cleaning or with meals. I noticed a change in her again, this time a kind of appraising look, questioning, and hesitant. She had never discussed with me the idea of a separation, and I was hoping she wouldn’t. After about two weeks of this, with me gradually being home more often, things were the best they’d been in a long while, so I arranged for a neighbor girl to babysit and took her out to dinner. I started out going to her favorite restaurant, but the wait was nearly an hour, so we drove around until we ended up settling for this Greek place called Callas’.

Naomi wore a blue dress and pearls, and put her thick brown hair up with a silver clip. Naomi had always been a looker, but it had been a long time since I’d seen her like this. After all, we still had one four-year-old in the house. Her eyes were steady and deep, intense brown, and as we sat across from each other, there was silence between us. I was intoxicated with her again, like I had been before. Things were so much better that I almost forgot about what Blake Thompson had said.

“Welcome to Callas’,” said a peppy blonde in a white dress who came up to our table, a waitress was with us already, delivering our salad. This new woman spoke fast and was very friendly but seemed a bit distracted. “My name is Winter and I’m the manager, and since I haven’t seen you here before I thought I’d come over and greet you personally, and offer my services in case you have any questions at all about what’s on the menu. Everything at Callas’ is authentic Greek and some of it may be unfamiliar to you, or you might need a personal recommendation.”

“Winter,” Naomi said, sounding calm and almost dull next to this buzzing blonde thing, “that’s a strange name, but lovely.”

“Why, thank you!” she replied brightly, freed from her distraction for a moment. “And might I say what a lovely couple the two of you make tonight! Is this a date, and is it your first?”

“First date in a while,” my wife continued. “We’ve been married fifteen years.”

“Well, congratulations on fifteen years!”

She chatted with us for a bit longer and gave us a few recommendations, then hurried off to attend to other customers.

“She’s your type,” Naomi mentioned after Winter had gone. I was startled.

“What do you mean?” I frowned.

“You know,” she smiled, “she’s blonde and beautiful, and wears dresses and heels to work, and she’s friendly and bubbly. You like girls like that, I know.”

“I like girls like you,” I retorted.

There was a deep silence as we ate our salad together, but at long last Naomi looked up at me.

“Wrath. I think it’s time we talked seriously.”

Oh, no. I had seen plenty of shows on TV and this whole situation suddenly smacked of divorce papers. They always sprung it on you at a high point, when you think everything is ok. I braced myself.

“Sure, babe, what about?” I cleared my throat but sounded light, in the very unlikely event that she was going to talk about something other than separation.

“Wrath,” she stopped eating and sat very still, as if bracing herself also, “I think it’s only fair that you know I’ve been considering a separation.”

Slam. Dunk. I sat quietly for a few moments, not eating, the fact that I already knew providing surprisingly very little comfort to me at that point.

“I know you have,” I said at last.

“You do?” she was startled. Obviously her friend had hid from her what happened between me and Blake. I had not told Naomi about Blake’s involvement in my discharge, and implied it was with a random coworker. Blake’s wife had done the same, likely to protect Naomi’s feelings. But, since all the cards were out, I figured we might as well turn them all over.

“The man I had an altercation with was Blake,” I explained. “We had an altercation because he said you told his wife that you wanted a separation.”

“Wrath!” she scowled, but she never raised her voice. “You should’ve told me!”

“Really? ‘Hi, Babe, I’m home, and by the way, I burned your best friend’s hubby for saying you wanted to separate from me, hope you’re not mad.’ Was that what you’d have loved to hear?”

“You should have told me at some point.”

There was another lengthy silence. Conversations with me seemed full of those.

“Well, all the more reason we need to talk about this,” she said very deliberately.

I began to feel my emotions welling up. After all, I had gone out of my way for two whole weeks to be as helpful around the house as I could, and not get in her way during the daytime. I was spending more time with the kids, and I was really biting my tongue on a lot of things. This was how she repaid all my efforts? Anger swelled against all the ingratitude she was showing, but I loved her, and more than anything I didn’t want to lose her. For the second time, I prayed to God for a miracle.

“Alright,” I said, taking a deep breath, “you want to separate. Are we talking divorce? Do you have papers with you? I mean, if using the word ‘separation’ is just to soften the blow we can dispense with it, babe.”

“You always love to tank your way through everything,” she gave me an unexpected half-smirk. Naomi was a quiet person and not sarcastic or cold in any way. “No, this isn’t about divorce, and I don’t have papers with me or anything. Wrath, our marriage has always been rocky, even in the beginning. The only reason we’ve held together in the past was that we had such little contact. It used to be we both worked and everything worked out for the most part. But that’s not marriage–it’s having a roommate. When I got pregnant with Cam, I decided that if I wanted our family to grow and flourish, I’d have to make some sacrifices. I had to decide what part of my life I wanted to invest in. I could send Cam to daycare and school and have most of my time free for my interests and career, or I could do the uncool, old-fashioned thing and be a stay-at-home mom. I knew you’d fight me on that, and you did, but regardless of what you think about it, I did it for you as much as Cam. I didn’t want our marriage to just be a living arrangement, so neither of us felt lonely. I wanted our marriage to be what it was meant to be: loving, full, rich. I’d been seeing the pastor’s wife about it, and well, she had a lot of good things to say.”

“Like what? Separate from your idiot husband?” my temper flared a little at the mention of the pastor’s wife. I hated that woman. I felt like she was always undermining me.

“No, Wrath,” Naomi frowned deeply. “The opposite, in fact. Wrath, I gave my life to Christ as an adult, after we were married, and I knew it would be difficult because I know what you’re like. You’re not a religious man and you don’t like being told what to do, much less told you have to make yourself abide by some ‘ancient stone book,’ as  you called it. I knew I couldn’t change you, but I hoped and prayed that God–”

“Would, right?” I interrupted, but she shut her eyes and looked away, so I simmered and tried very hard to calm myself. “I’m sorry,” I choked out. “Go on.”

“I hoped and prayed,” she continued, “that God would change me. If God changed me then maybe you’d see it. Maybe you’d see that I wanted more from our marriage–that I wasn’t content to just coexist. I wanted God to make such a big difference in my life that you’d see it and want it to. I didn’t want to coerce you or argue with you about coming to church or anything like that. I don’t believe that works. The only reason you’ve ever decided to do something, Wrath, was because you wanted to. And at first I just wanted you to know God like I did so we can be happy, but that wasn’t right. I know now that I want you to know God so that you can be happy, so that you can go to Heaven someday, so that you can have peace in your heart and learn to control your anger. Don’t you want all those things?”

A backlog of fiery reprisals were locked and loaded, but as my finger went to the trigger, I suddenly found that the safety was on. To my surprise, I couldn’t say anything. Naomi went on.

“I had to come to a realization, Wrath, and it was hard. It was the realization that God made you exactly the way He wanted you, not the way I wished you were. God gave you your powers, and He knew what you could do with them, good and bad. He gave you your fierceness, and knew that you could use it to be fiercely His. I’m your wife, for better or for worse, and that means I have to be there for you–I have to help you if I can. I don’t want to talk about separating, but about why I’ve chosen not to.”

Just as in Dr. Leong’s office two weeks ago, my fire suddenly went out, as if a wet blanket had been thrown onto it. All of a sudden there was not some woman, trying to bend me to her will and her God. Now, without the red haze before my eyes, I saw among the fumes and ashes my wife, the woman I loved, standing on the last patch of good ground, desperately trying to protect it from the flames. She wasn’t trying to separate from me. She wasn’t trying to get away from me. She was trying to save me. And that was the first time I realized I might need saving.

“I know I’ve said more than I usually do, probably too much,” Naomi said presently, as I was lost in this strange revelation. “I know you’d rather have just gone on and just let things go. But I don’t want to just be roommates, and I don’t think you do either. I want us to be united– to be one, like the Bible says, and if you knew I was considering separation, it means you’ve been trying to change for my sake. That tells me you still care about me, and it makes all the difference. Think about this, Wrath: you once told me a story about flying, and how you and another pilot were out on patrol over the desert and mountains and you noticed as the two of you were about to fly over the top of a mountain that your ‘idiot wingman’ was too low and might clip it. He was looking at his instruments and doing the best he could but somehow he missed something, and for whatever reason he couldn’t see the danger, even though in his mind he was ok. You, on the outside looking at him, were the only one who could see what was happening and warn him, and thank God you did, and that he listened.”

“He only listened because I was his commanding officer,” I replied.

“Right,” she considered, “and I’m not your commanding officer. So, you don’t have to pull up if I tell you to. But what if you hadn’t been his commanding officer. What if he had been yours? Do you think he would have listened to you?”

As in Dr. Leong’s office, my silence was but another answer and my wife read it like a written word. If Jacqueline was able to read me, Naomi was able to read, interpret, and possibly even forge my mental signature.

“So, you have to do what your wingman would have done, if he had been in charge,” she finished. “You can decide to listen or not, and take the chance that you’re wrong.”

“Point taken,” I finally blurted out. “But what is it you want? What are you asking me to do?”

“Wow,” she looked startled, “honestly, I never thought we’d make it this far. I’ve been praying a lot about tonight, and I guess maybe you have changed a little. I’m not asking you to accept Jesus or anything like that, Wrath. That’s still your own choice to make, and I wouldn’t have you do anything just because you were afraid I was going to leave you. So, I just want to do what I haven’t done in a while and invite you to come with me to church this weekend. I’m not expecting you to say yes. I don’t want to push you into anything and I don’t want you to feel like you’ve already given me so much and now I want so much more…”

I just happened to be thinking just that, but I suppressed the idea.

“I can tell by what you’ve done already that you still want to make our marriage work, and I want you to know that I do too. The kids need their dad, and I need my husband. I’m determined to see this through, Wrath. Are you?”

“And if I say I won’t go to church, that’s going to send a bad message to you, right?” I said dryly.

“No… but it will tell me you’re not ready for certain things yet. I’m only asking you to go with me to church so that we can go as a family. It’s really important to me that the kids know what church is all about so that they have a chance to choose for themselves someday what they want to believe. I’d feel a lot better if you weren’t pulling the kids completely the opposite direction.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, especially with Cam, but with the girls too, they notice the fact that you don’t go to church, and they ask me about it. Cam especially wants to be just like you, so he seems more and more indifferent about church the older he gets. It’s ‘mom’s thing’ and therefore severely uncool.”

I chuckled, smiling against my will. To my mild irritation, I felt so much better for this conversation, and about my wife and my marriage. I felt like there was hope.

“As long as you don’t expect me to pray at an altar or sing, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to come, just to show Cam that mom’s thing isn’t severely uncool.”

She shook her head at me, but smiled. The rest of our meal was pretty good. We enjoyed our meal and talked a lot more openly. It felt good to realize that she wasn’t against me, and I didn’t mind showing her that I wasn’t against her. After the meal we went to a movie, half of which she slept through. I realized how much work this whole “mom” thing was. I had seen her tired when she used to have a law practice, but it was not like this. Our kids are good kids, but any young children are a lot of work, and I was beginning to see that what I had thought initially was just Naomi wanting to stay at home and blog or spend my money was actually her choosing the difficult path, one where you worked as hard or harder than in the economy, yet did it all without getting paid a nickel, or a decent break. It was a choice to live for someone else, and the realization of that dawned on me in that theater as she leaned on my arm, fast asleep no matter the loud music and explosions on the screen. Why had I missed it all this time?

After the movie I took Naomi back to the car, and as we approached the dimly-lit parking spot, hand in hand, a figure stood in the darkness before my sedan. If I had been a normal person, I would have been packing, but I didn’t need a gun to defend myself. I felt Naomi’s hand stiffen in mine, and she halted, tugging me backward.

“Mr. James?” came the man’s voice. “I think it’s time you and I met. I’ve heard a lot about you, and I think we can help each other.”

“What do you want?” I challenged.

“There’s no need to be afraid, I’m not here for your money or your car,” the man stepped into the light, and we saw that he was well dressed. “Now that you are no longer tied to the United States Armed Forces, you and I can have the talk I’ve been meaning to have. I’ve been excited to finally get to talk to you, Wrath. You and I are a perfect match, you see. You are, I know, out of work, and I am in need of a skilled pilot.”

“You want to offer me a job?” I laughed. “If this is a mugging it’s got to be the most creative!”

“It’s pretty ‘creative’ for a job interview, too,” Naomi whispered to me.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” he walked up and stood right in front of us, hands leisurely in his pockets. “But I like to do things simply. I’m a simple man, no scheduling, no formal attire required, no resume. I already know I want to hire you, if you want the job.”

“And you are?”

“Jack Daring,” he smiled, pulling a hand from his pocket and offering it to me. “I am obscenely wealthy, and own several private aircraft. I will pay you two fifty to be my on-call pilot, to fly me when I need you to, any time of night or day.”

“Two fifty?” I smiled again. “Are we talking two hundred and fifty dollars a flight? Or is it two dollars and fifty cents an hour?”

“I mean two hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year,” he replied, and my smile disappeared. “And that is a salary wage, so even if I don’t call on all year, you will still be paid. I can see where you might be incredulous. Go home, get your phone or your tablet out and Google my name if you like. This is not a scam, or a dream, or a YouTube prank video. This offer is as real as this…”

He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out an envelope. I took it hesitantly and then opened it, I frowned at the check inside, but Naomi’s eyes were like brown saucers. We stared back at Mr. Daring.

“This is a check for $125,000,” I stated.

“I know it is,” he smiled warmly. “I’m the one who told my secretary to make it out. It is the first half of your salary for this year, and it’s yours to keep, even if you don’t accept my offer. But I urge you to do so. Don’t worry, my checks always clear. If I have your attention, then meet me at my place tomorrow morning and we’ll go over the details. Oh, and I’ll cover all of your family’s medical expenses, so don’t worry about health coverage or retirement.”

Suddenly a limousine appeared around the corner of the lot and drew to a halt right by where we were parked. The driver got out and opened the door for him, and we could vaguely make out another man in a suit inside, though we could tell no features of him.

“Think about it, Wrath. While I would love to take you both someplace for a drink and talk things over now, I have a prior commitment, and a lady is involved. Good night to you both, and especially to you, Naomi. You look fantastic tonight!”

He got in and the limo drove off, leaving us dumbstruck.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go,” Naomi said as we drove home. There had been no talking for some time. “I just don’t have a good feeling about that man.”

“Well,” I said, “I’m going to stop by an ATM and deposit this thing anyway. He said we could, and if it turns out to be a scam we’ll know it right away.”

We stopped by our bank and I deposited the check, which would take a day to clear if it did. It was pretty late and dark out, and nobody was around, and I was anxious to get back home. But as I turned back to the car, I was suddenly opposed by a man. He was tall and wore a trench coat, wide-brimmed fedora, and gloves, and had a blue scarf wrapped around his neck and face. I thought it looked a little dramatic, but it seemed to work for him. His face, however, was completely black, and not from insufficient light. It was as if light couldn’t touch him.

Instantly I felt my hands grow hot, as did the air around me.

“Hello, Wrath,” said a gentle voice.

“What is it today with everyone knowing my name?” I exclaimed.

“My name is Percy,” he stated.

I’m not sure how long I was silent, but for some reason, I relaxed.

“Percy,” I said finally. “Someone told me I’d be seeing you soon.”

“No doubt,” the voice came again. No matter how I looked at him, I couldn’t get a look at his face. It was as if the light from the bank’s parking lights couldn’t touch him. I glanced over to the car, and Naomi was digging through her purse, and therefore oblivious to what was going on.

“Yeah, Mercy told me.”

“Mercy is the first of us, but not the greatest,” he answered. “I’m afraid she probably didn’t have much good to say about me.”

“She didn’t say much. Just told me to be careful.”

“And well you should,” his hands were in his pockets. “And perhaps she is right about me. After all, I’ve made my mistakes. But keep in mind where you met her: in therapy. Mercy is a good person with strong morals, but she has years of scars from her long past.”

“What do you want from me?” I demanded.

“You’re reentering the world,” Percy began. “But it isn’t the world you think it is. It is partly. There is your wife and your children, bills and housework. But there is, I think you must know, something just under the surface. What you do not know is that this is an iceberg, and what lies beneath the surface is far, far larger than what you vaguely see. There are other people like you, at least in one sense.”

“Like Mercy?” I guessed. “People with ‘odd names?’”

“Yes,” he seemed to chuckle. “And let’s just say ‘Percy’ isn’t my first name.”

“Oh? Is it Nightwing? Batman, perhaps?”

“Not quite,” Percy laughed aloud. “My first name is Shade.”

“Of course it is.”

“You met Jack tonight,” he continued. “I presume he offered you a deal you couldn’t refuse.”

“I can refuse whatever I like,” I set him straight, “but not just because some man in a trench coat told me to.”

“I’m not telling you to do anything, but I will tell you that Jack is a very dangerous man. I have sought to bring him down before, both alone and with help, but have yet to succeed. He will betray you in some fashion or other.”

“How do you know?”

“He was my best friend,” the man said flatly. “And no animosity is as great as that which is born out of love and twisted by mistrust, ambition, and injustice. It is up to you to decide what you want to do, but there are many forces at work that will act upon you in the days ahead. They know of your abilities and they will seek to control them for their own ends. They will not let you rest… they will not leave you be. They will have your power, or they will destroy you.”

“Well, they’re in for a fight, then,” I scowled.

“I admire your spirit, as I admired his.”

“Wait… whose?”

“You may fight alone, and perhaps God will uphold you, but remember what the Good Book says of such things, ‘Woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.’ I do not doubt your prowess, Wrath, yet your Fire alone is but one aspect and cannot stand by itself, just as Shadow cannot be without light. We are all pieces of a larger whole. Here is my card. Do with it what you will. I have learned through hard lesson not to press upon those I would have for friends and allies. You will come to see me when you are willing to do so. Until then I have much to do, and my time is almost done. But look out for those like you, for there is a bond between you, all of you.”

Then, to my astonishment, the man just vanished. I mean that in the literal sense. I was standing, looking right at him, and then in the next instant he was gone, and I was alone in front of the bank. I glanced around but only thought I heard the faint sound of soft footsteps growing fainter, and then nothing. I looked down at the card in my hand, and a strange elation came over me: I wasn’t the strangest thing out there anymore.

I got back in the car and looked over at Naomi. She had seen nothing the whole time, which I found odd, since we were parked fairly close to the ATM and she would have had to look up at least once. It was almost as if she couldn’t see the strange man. But I noticed at once that she seemed a little flustered, and her lap was filled with the various items that ordinarily dwelt deep in the bowels of her purse.

“Wrath, I’m really sorry,” she sighed. “I can’t find my phone anywhere! Do you remember seeing it?”

“Last time I saw it was at the restaurant,” I frowned.

“Well, then it’s probably still there, and I’m sure they’re closed by now.”

She put a hand to her forehead, as if resigned to losing it.

“Hey,” I said optimistically, “Callus’ is on the way home, let’s just drop by and see. If someone’s still there, they might let you in to get it.”

“I suppose it couldn’t hurt to run by.”

We made it to Callus’ in under ten minutes, and as we pulled up in front of the doors, we saw two women standing in the doorway. One of them was Winter, the tittering blonde manager from before. The other I had not seen before. She was a brunette with steely grey eyes, slightly under average height, and almost as well-dressed as Winter. She seemed a little on the stern side.

Naomi got out the moment I stopped and hurried up to them.

“Hey! I’m really sorry, are you closed? We ate here hours ago, and I only just realized I don’t have my phone. I may have left it here, have you seen it?”

To my relief, Winter invited her inside to look for it, and I got out and walked up to the restaurant myself. The shorter woman had come fully outside, and was standing still, staring out pensively into the night. I figured I would say hello, and did.

“Hi,” the woman replied, sounding as distant as she looked. “Was that your date?”

“And my wife,” I nodded. “You have a very nice restaurant, and the food was very good. You look like the owner.”

“Very sharp, and thank you,” she seemed to focus in on me at last. “Forgive me if I don’t look at you but I’m actually blind.”

This caught me by surprise, because I could have sworn when we drove up that she was looking around like a normal person, though of course now it seemed otherwise. She also wasn’t carrying a cane or anything to help her, and considering that she was wearing high heels, I was incredulous.

“Really?” I squinted. “You seem to get around pretty good.”

“Thanks. My name is Jessica, Jessica Athan.”

I took her hand and shook it, and gave her my name. I was a little relieved she didn’t know it already. More people had that night than I was comfortable with.

“You have the handshake of a soldier,” she remarked. “And I don’t think I’ve ever met someone named ‘Wrath.’ Is that a family name…?”

She was interrupted by the sound of tires squealing, and I turned at once. A dark delivery van screamed into the parking lot and its back doors flew open. Men in thick black jackets and ski masks poured out, sporting automatic firearms and flanking a tall man in a heavy leather trench coat. I was fascinated to see that this man wore no mask, and fearlessly displayed his pale face, hair, and thin mustache. In his hand he carried a fancy walking stick with a serpent twisting around its top and forming the handle. Despite his paleness, sunken features, and white hair, he looked to be only slightly older than me, perhaps forty.

His men wasted no time and did not stop to chat. They rushed across the parking lot, their silenced MP7s trained upon me and Jessica, and mounted the steps, military style. I should know–I’d seen such tactics and formations a lot, but their movements and gestures weren’t exactly American military. Miss Athan backed up a step and held her hands out, and now more than ever I was convinced she could see, because she scanned the coming soldiers carefully. What was more, she didn’t immediately retreat, like I expected her to. She was either brave or very stupid. I figured whoever these people were, they were after me. Likely they were thugs of this Jack character. Maybe he had seen me with ‘Percy’ and figured it was better to try to take me out before I get in with his enemies.

As the enemy approached, I held my hands out and a wall of fire formed along the concrete walk in front of us, barring passage. Some of my abilities were hard to command with any precision, but this one was easy. I had learned it when I was a kid in school, and it kept me out of trouble with bullies without hurting anyone or leaving evidence, so I got real good at it. Our assailants stopped abruptly at the appearance of the firewall, and I stood glaring through the orange tongues at their masked faces. I had completely forgotten about Miss Athan at this point. The Pale Man strode up the steps carefully, his eyebrow raised slightly but otherwise unmoved.

“Well, well,” he said in a thick German accent, “what is this? I go hunting for one golden goose, and find two. I think the two of you together might just be most uncanny thing I have seen in a long time. It is an omen, I think.”

“The two of us?” I repeated.

Without answering, he walked straight through my firewall. Obviously, this shocked me somewhat. He gestured, and one of the nearer soldiers fired a Taser! It struck Jessica in the upper chest, and she groaned as the electricity brought her to her knees. In another second, my reflexes kicked in and I thrust my hand toward her attacker, his weapon suddenly bursting into flame and catching his clothing on fire. Despite this display, the other men took only moments to recover, and immediately began firing their weapons.

There was no time, and I immediately spread out my hands, forming a shield of fire. This was a very difficult move for me, as I had only done it once before, and I had lost control of it… to disastrous effect. But it was a knee-jerk reaction, as it was the only application of my power that I knew of which would protect me from multiple sides. As the thin bubble of fiery energy pulsated around me, the bullets flying into it caught fire and melted into ash.

I held it for some time, surprisingly, gritting my teeth and feeling the strength drain from whatever it was in me that enabled me to do these things. It was probably only maybe six seconds all told, but at the end, feeling myself tire and my control wane, I knew I had to do one thing: keep it from backfiring. If the bubble expanded backward, Naomi, Miss Athan, and everybody in the restaurant was at risk.  With what was left of my strength, I pressed forward, and the bubble exploded outward toward the parking lot, striking every member of the opposing force, including the Pale Man. The paramilitary goons were thrown backward and set afire, and after they hit the ground, the conscious ones began rolling to put themselves out. But as I knelt down, shaking, I looked up in astonishment. The Pale Man was still standing!

He was staring at me, his clothing singed and even on fire in one or two places, but completely unfazed. His hair was singed only slightly, but his face was unburned. Taking a pistol from his coat, he then shot me in the chest. I fell backward, feeling keenly the sharp burning I had known before, during my tour of duty. I tried to fight back with my abilities, but they were spent, as was I.

Then the restaurant door opened up and there were gunshots. To my disbelief, Winter, the blonde restaurant manager, was holding a small Glock pistol and firing round after round into the Pale Man. Even if she had been a terrible shot, she could never miss at this range, and what must certainly have been .38 rounds pierced the man’s jacket. The last round hit him in the face, but as he turned back to face her, Winter’s eyes widened, as did mine. There was not a scratch on him.

He started to take a step forward, but his black wingtip never touched the ground. He was suddenly thrown backward, as if by an explosion or if he had been struck by an invisible car or something. He flew back down the steps and into the parking lot, smashing into the side of his own black delivery van, and with enough force that he broke the wall and landed inside it. I didn’t understand what happened, but I was happy the man was gone, and relieved when his goons dragged their wounded comrades into the truck and took off helter-skelter. With the threat gone, I laid back and calmly continued to bleed out.

“Wrath!” came Naomi’s voice, and as Winter held the door open, she came bursting out of the restaurant. She knelt by me, her face contorted but no tears flowing. Unlike a lot of women, Naomi didn’t cry easily. But that didn’t mean she was unemotional by any means.

“Oh, God, no! Please no!” she muttered, her face contorted dreadfully and her hands hovering helplessly over my freely bleeding wound.

Winter stood above me, fumbling with her phone, and to my interest, a much recovered Miss Athan appeared alongside Naomi, and was starkly contrasted to the other two women. Naomi had no idea what to do–she was a former lawyer turned homemaker. Winter was trying to dial 911 but was almost in a state of shock herself, and so was failing miserably. But Jessica Athan was made of different stuff. She demanded Naomi giver her the tiny, mostly decorative sweater that went with her blue dress, wadded the garment up, and stuffed it into my wound, pressing down on it painfully.

“Winter!” she ordered. “Give me the phone and go sit down, now!”

Winter readily offered Jessica the phone and then fell back against the open door, shaking all over and trying vainly to stop by holding her hands together. As Jessica was dialing, however, we all heard a voice–a voice I had heard not long ago.

“There’s no time for an ambulance.”

We looked up, and there upon the steps was the dark man from the bank ATM, in all of his odd attire. However, this time I could see parts of his face. It was a worn, haggard face with sad eyes and thin cheeks. Jessica was guarded, but when he gave his name, she softened considerably.

“I am Percy, Jessica,” he explained. “And if you want to save this man, you will have to trust me. This is not how I would have wished us to meet, but we must go on.”

For a moment she considered, then said, “Alright. Waters trusted you, so I will too.”

I had no idea who Waters was, and I was starting to lose a handle on things in general, but I remember I was lifted into a car, and I remember that Naomi was holding my hand the whole time. She kept talking to me, almost crying, trying to keep me awake. She talked to me about the kids, and about Jesus and God. It was then it occurred to me, in my half-stupefied state, that it mattered what happened after you died. Naomi begged me, saying she wanted to be sure she would see me again, if I didn’t make it. I wanted to be sure I met her again too, but my mind was fogged from the trauma and blood loss. As we bumped along in the car, squealing around tight turns, I just asked God to give me another chance to know Him, and fell asleep.