Chapter Twenty One

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The police arrived, sirens blaring, lights flashing, and John wished he could walk to the window and see. Fuck his horrid life. A man burst through the door, a man who looked mighty familiar, but the swagger in his walk had John doubting. The man sported black stubble that looked more like he couldn't be bothered with shaving than the metro man stubble fashion women had gone for round the time he'd conked out of life. His hair was a mess, the bed head appearance women would call it, but he looked too old to pull it off. Who was this guy? John guessed the man was in his early thirties. The uniform fit him well, though--a classic cut cop uniform.

When he spotted Mam, he tipped his hat with one hand. 'Mrs Finnie.'

Just like that John knew who it was. The fucker! When had this happened? Marty's eyes were as mischievous as ever, but the wrinkles and all over grown up look of him wasn't all that grand. A reminder that John had missed the best years of life. Seventeen years Dad had said.

Marty! He wanted to yell. Of course no words came out. John's stupid mouth was as lame as the rest of him. He blinked his eye till he felt dizzy. Nobody noticed anything. Mam had his hand in a vice like grip, Samantha wept on the floor, blood besmeared. Dad shook Marty's hand and they smiled like they'd known each other forever. And inside John screamed. If there was a hell, this had to be it. And where was Charlie?

'Sam, honey, you must move now.' Mam looked at her with a tenderness John had thought was reserved for him and Charlie. She loved Sam? Tears and mascara stained Samantha's red puffy cheeks, and sorrow hung in her eyes. She stood slow, wiped her hands on the white coat she wore.

Marty frowned down at the scene. 'Gosner, get in here!'

Another cop thumped up the carpeted steps and popped in through the door. He looked nervous. 'Y-yes, Sir.' He pushed glasses up a nose too large for his scrawny face.

'Detail this mess.' Marty waved his hand at the blood and semi-healed dead body of doctor Leang. 'Get a report back to the Sarg, pronto.'

'Y-yes, course.' The cop dug a notepad out his pocket and a pen from his shirt's front pocket. With shaky hands he walked over to the doctor and made notes.

'So, what happened? This is the new doctor, right?' Marty directed the questions at Dad, but Samantha answered first in a hoarse voice.

'She woke John up, Marty. She was a good doctor.'

In that instant Marty locked eyes with John. His mouth fell open, and John thought his heart might stop beating altogether.

A smile spread on Marty's not so young face, and tears glimmered at the corners of his eyes. He snuffled, wiped his finger under his nose and through his prickly moustache. 'Johnnie,' he said and grabbed John's hands.

'Can you hear me?' He looked at Mam. 'Can he hear us?'

'We think so,' she said.

'John, it's so good to see you.' Marty leaned in close to his face and whispered, 'You made it back then, gay boy.'

Ahh! John wanted to smile and grab Marty's face and punch him a solid one in the gut all at once. But only the corner of his mouth twitched. Stupid mouth. Stupid body. Stupid life.

And so it continued, life played out in front of John, and all he could do was watch. He watched the coroner take away the body of the doctor, Miss Leang they all called her. Well, all apart from Sam. She called her by another name, but it kept slipping from his mind. Was she important? Was who important? John had forgotten again.

Cleaners came in and removed the blood from the floor. John sat and watched.

Samantha came in and put electrodes on his body. John sat and watched. She told him how excited she was that he was awake. John sat there, immobile and detached.

Marty came in and talked to him; John sat and listened, unable to respond. Not even able to give him the finger. Mam and Dad came in and out all day, squeezing his hand all smiles and laughter. John sat and watched, drooling occasionally. But he could see behind the laughter there was a deep sadness.

The months rolled on, blending into one big nightmare. The doctors and nurses came in and out every few hours, turning him over, cleaning him up and rubbing creams into his skin for the bed sores. God, the shame of nappies. The horror of the stinky pasty feel of your own shit squashed against your skin.

Nappies when he soiled himself, nappies when he pissed himself. He wished himself dead, every time the smell rose up to his nostrils, he wished himself dead.

Of course, they were all smiles as they went about their work, telling John about their day. Telling him they could see an improvement in his colour. They were all liars though. A tear escaped as he closed his eyes.

All pathetic shit fucking liars, every one of them... And where was Charlie? She could fuck off too. He regained consciousness after seventeen years and she couldn't even be bothered to come and see him. Fuck this, fuck her, and fuck everyone. He wanted to die. Why wouldn't death just claim him? And the pain, Jesus! Surely if this was the future they'd have had better pain killers.

Just let me die, he begged god, or whatever deity or power there was. Please let me die... please... remember me...

Grimsol's maggoty horn gnawed at John's soul, revelling in the taste of its purity, leaving nothing but a putrid waste.

ANUBIS (DEATH)

Anubis stood at John's bedside, as he had from the start. He put his right hand on John's forehead, almost father like in his gesture. The significance was not lost on him.

'Do not wish for death young Finnie.' He smiled and cocked his head. 'You surprise me at every turn. I looked in the book. I wanted to know where your path lay. I felt compelled to. All these strange feelings John, why are you such a mystery to me?'

From nowhere a chair appeared and he fell back into it, crossed his legs, and drummed his fingers on his thighs. 'I must admit.' He chuckled. 'I was shocked when I saw that your name had no path, you had nothing written. It is as if you do not exist.' He grabbed John's hand. 'You my friend are truly special. You make your own path, you are unique.' John didn't respond. His chest lifted and sank slightly with each intake of breath, his eyelashes trembled with a dream.

Looking around the room, Anubis sighed. Computers and other machines monitored John while he slept. 'Oh how I envy you John, to have a life such as yours is a wonderful gift.' He stared at the photos on the medicine cabinet and ones adorning the almost bare room. 'You have people who love you still John, and that alone is worth living for.'

Anubis looked upwards. 'I wonder if He knows. I wonder if...' He looked down and frowned. 'I wonder if He knows.'

A voice from behind startled him and he dropped John's hand. 'A select few know He has wiped all trace of this John Finnie from the book.'

Death sat quiet as a man came into view. 'Ah,' Death said. 'Gabriel, I wondered when you might come to see the young man himself.'

Gabriel walked over to where John lay, his haloed golden hair aglow even in the morning light. He stretched his hand out to John's forehead, then stopped himself and peered at Death.

Death raised an eyebrow. 'Are you not able to bless this mortal? I am disappointed. If anyone needs your blessing' --He pointed at John-- 'It's him.'

'This thing, this abomination,' Gabriel said in disgust, 'deserves no blessing from me. Take him Anubis; take him off this mortal plane. Let him have what he craves. He is tainted with the mark of evil; I can feel it gnawing at him as we speak. It would be better for all if he died this day.'

Death stood up and leant over the bed so that he and Gabriel's faces nearly touched noses. John's breathing was rhythmic. Death paused for a second, dramatic effect and all that, then flicked Gabriel hard on the forehead. The noise was loud in the still room, and the shocked look on the Arch Angel's face almost...almost made Death laugh.

'By all that is holy,' Gabriel started. 'You will regre-'

Death put his hand up to flick Gabriel again, pausing just before its release. 'Do not threaten me you little upstart. You have no authority over me and well you had better remember that.'

Gabriel's jaw clenched, he grabbed the fall protectors on the side of John's bed and squeezed. The metal twisted and crumpled under his strength, making an awful grinding sound. Death stood impassive as His own warrior fought to keep his temper. Without warning Gabriel turned and walked away. A cloud of light engulfed him slowly and he retreated into it.

'John can get her back,' Death said after him.

The cloud of light disappeared in an instant, sucked into some vortex. Gabriel spun on his heels, marching up face to face with Death, closer than before. 'What do you mean, get her back?' Breath rushed from the Angel's nostrils.

Death looked down at John and smiled. 'This mortal,' he said as he stroked John's face, 'This John Finnie can get your daughter back. But he needs your help Gabriel, he needs a miracle.'

Gabriel's eyes softened when he spoke again. 'Angel Semila is no more. Her spirit is gone, her energy devoured. She is lost to me, she is lost forever,' he whispered as he looked at the floor.

Death reached out, lifted his chin, and looked him straight in the eyes. 'No one is gone for one who can travel through time.'

Gabriel took a step back. 'No, that is impossible, time cannot be altered. What's done is done, it's His will.'

Death snorted and threw his arms in the air. 'Bah! You angels are all the same. Everything is black and white to you. Good and bad, holy and evil. Did you not consider there may be a shade of grey between the lines?'

Death made a sign in the air, flames appeared where his fingers traced. They hung for a second and a box appeared before them. He tapped the box three times and it opened. An iPad floated out. 'Come here Gabriel, see for yourself.'

Death scrolled through his lists. 'Aha, here it is. Tell me what you see.'

Gabriel peered over Death's shoulder. 'What is this thing?'

Death sighed. 'It's an iPad, I have found it easier to keep my records on this. Parchment and scrolls take up so much room, truly wonderful and inventive creatures are mortals. Here, peruse this. Tell me what you think is wrong.'

Gabriel took the gadget off Death and looked at the list of names. 'I see,' he said, 'Names upon names of mortal souls you have collected on behalf of the Two. What of it.'

'Examine it harder,' said Death. 'What other information is there?'

Gabriel moved the iPad out to arms reach and squinted. 'There is a name crossed out.' Gabriel furrowed his brow.

Death smiled. 'And that name is?'

'That name is Daniel James Finnie, born 16-02-1964, died 17-08-1998.' Gabriel stood silent for a few seconds. 'It can't be.'

Death flicked his hand. 'Check for yourself, John Finnie's father is downstairs, alive and well.'

Gabriel flickered for an instant. 'You are telling the truth Anubis.' He walked over to the drooling half vegetable of a man laid on the bed and stared in wonder. 'It is no wonder He does not want this creature to be known. Can he truly do what you say?'

'Move aside,' Death said, pushing Gabriel out of the way. 'He is no creature Gabriel; he is a mortal. John is an answer to your prayers. He can change the past. John can save your daughter, but as I said, he needs a miracle.'

A battle raged within Gabriel, and Death could understand the reason for it. A frown came and went on Gabriel's brow. Death stood silent as the grave and waited. Then, while still looking at John, Gabriel spoke.

'I will do it. We angels should get our hands dirty sometimes. I will show her we are not all "la de da".' Gabriel smiled a sad smile and turned to Death.

'We should not let this get out, Anubis. This cannot be seen as a miracle.' He looked up as if someone was looking down on him. Gabriel turned back to John who lay motionless on the bed. 'He has an evil about him; something is just not right within.'

When Gabriel placed his hand on John's head he winced. 'He is cursed by something powerful. Hmmm...' The Angel closed his eyes. Finally, Death had got through to him. Sparks and lights erupted from his hands and arms as he grimaced, then bright holy light shone from his body. Gabriel pulled his hand away; Death knew he was in considerable pain.

Gabriel turned, flexing and balling his fist. 'Half of his brain is not working Anubis, which is something I can fix. Yet there is something else, a demon's spirit rests within him. I cannot get to it; it resides in something I have only heard of once. I will research and be back when I know more.'

Ha, Death could guess who the demon was and where it resided. He turned to walk away, then looked back at John. 'I hope you are right Anubis; this could go wrong for us all.'

Death placed his hands in his robes and bowed. 'Thank you Gabriel, greatest of them all.'

Gabriel stopped for a second, and as Death watched his shoulder sagged. 'If I were that great, my daughter would still be with us.' He turned and faced Death once again, gripped his arm. 'Are you sure Anubis? Can this mortal save one of mine?'

Death bowed. 'I do believe,' he said, 'He can save them all.'

Gabriel gave him a questioning look, then clicked his fingers. As Death looked on a small feather floated down from the ceiling. It spun around on the currents of air circulating the room and came to rest on John's top lip.

Gabriel vanished just as John inhaled, taking the feather deep into his sinuses. Death stared in amazement as John right eye flickered and blood ran from the nostril that had taken the feather. Then, out of the blue, John sneezed. The machines went haywire.

Death smiled.

A deep voice boomed in his head. 'It is done?'

Death bowed. 'Yes lord. Events have been set in motion.'

The voice rang out again. 'Thank you Eternal One.'

Death bowed and disappeared as all the doctors in the world seemed to spill into the room at once.




© Steve Ford and Joy Cronjé 2018

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