September 18th, 1999-
I once knew a Mercurian who was stationed in New York. His name was
Killdeer and he had, for more than two millennia, lived among the people
of this continent. He was here long before the much fabled Columbus
arrived and, over the centuries, watched as the people he had so long
aided were wiped out. The world that he had known was gone, vanished
before "smallpox and bullets and reservations," he said. Before I had
met him, his superior had brought him Heavenside for some mental
recovery time . . . Killdeer had not taken these events well. Later, he
returned to earth, doing his thing in New York, with the same vessel he
had had for centuries. He was there for most of this century until, in
the mid 70's, he returned to Heaven to become a trainer. Despite the
loss of what he had known for so long, he had found renewed purpose in
the streets of that city, renewed love for those new humans . . . even a new
passion. "Have you ever been there Rook? Seen the glittering lights?
Taken in a show!" Killdeer was always very expressive. "Oh, Rook. You
haven't lived until you have seen Broadway," he assured me. Yet, in his
darker moods, which he was prone to whenever he thought of what had been
his life before, he would come up with all kinds of bizarre quotes
which, I gathered, were from those same Broadway musicals. I don't
remember many of them, really. They all seemed so nonsensical, so far
away from anything constructive. I do recall one lament, though, made
all the more powerful in my memory because it was the last time I saw
him before he fell. His melancholy evident in his demeanor, he opined,
"What a fool I've been, what an addle-pated fool, what a sentimental
dolt am I." It was the evils of humanity that caused Killdeer to
fall. His love for humanity was too intense, too powerful. It
destroyed him. Was he a fool? A 'rot-headed' fool?
Am I?
I requested Eli's presence yesterday . . . I was in Paris. I requested an
Archangel's presence in my aid. I painted. A painting. He said it
was good . . . for a beginner. I thought I was being so imaginative, so
perceptive and brilliant. Eli loves talking to people, loves
interacting and doing things on whims . . . it seemed like the perfect step
toward a much-sought solution. I know now the reason for his sad look,
its origins in the cryptic comment Jael made as she left.
She acquired my geas from the Lilim. Now she bears one and I do not.
She considers this an improvement. I have experienced emotions greater
in number and intensity in this one day than I have in the century
leading up to it. I have been angry, despondent, ashamed, hurt, bitter,
amazed . . . throughout all of it not once the emotion that Jael might have
thought she would garner; thankfulness. I can not thank her for her
actions . . . she has done the one and only thing that could have made my
situation truly worse. The only thing that could have hurt me most.
She has brought my shame onto herself, she who is lease deserving of it.
Those who have known me for centuries might ask, were they here to
witness these events transpiring, why I am consorting with Jael. The
answer at first was simply that it felt right. Now I know. She is my
compliment, the one who fits. I am my duty. So is she. I perform it
through enmity and destruction, she through compassion and creation.
We both love humans, we love God's purpose. We are fierce in our
pursuits of those loves, coming at them from angles opposite to each
other, directions that allow us to meet in the middle . . . wide-eyed and
mystified at this apparition before us, the very thing we have long
sought without knowing it, words unknown and unspoken and suddenly given
full and brilliant voice, a harmony of union and purpose, understanding
and light. She is light. She is the light that illuminates me, I who
am the dark expression of God's desires, the somber but necessary force
of death. We are two sides of one coin. But we do not face outward
from each other, we face in, our backs to the world as shields in
gallant challenge of what may await us there. Hands clasped in
commiseration, we are better.
She did this to assuage my pain. I know that now. The action still
hurts me. The fact that this stems from my original shame, my profound
weakness only increases my pain . . . that she should suffer for my
inadequacy. I can no longer be angry with her, however. I know why she
did it, even if I can not understand it completely. She is a Cherub,
driven to protect. Her scope of vision looks to the few while mine to
the many. I am here to protect humanity and God's soldiers. She is
here to protect those few to whom she has attuned. Both worthy,
compliments of each other. Has she attuned to me? I do not believe so,
but her attachment to me, obviously long growing, may be more intense
than an attunement in basic expression. An attunement is a need to
protect built into her by design. A love is a need to protect acquired
by choice, by chance and will. Accepted voluntarily, is it more
powerful? I do not know.
I have not come to all of these conclusions quickly or easily. My
thoughts have run along as many contours as my emotions. No, I have
applied my mind quite assiduously to this contemplation for many hours.
One conclusion, seeming so solid and set, would fall to the next. One
of my initial decisions was to continue as before, blithely, putting my
pain behind me and heretofore keeping my silence on issues which might
engender such a hasty response from her. I realized after some sobering
thought and further pain that this kind of deception would be as
unworthy as the very evil that has caused all this turmoil. I am God's
servant and God works through truth. I have always existed that way. I
will not cease. All the more so now because I have a reason to be even
more and better than I have been. I deserve truth. So does she. Yes
God, she does deserve that.
I will not lie to her. I will not hide my thoughts from her, my pain.
I may not be able to express things as readily as she. The words do not
come to me in eloquence. In words, I am blunt as I am with a sword. My
words may be sharp and painful without my knowledge, I who am only
recently exposed to the world of the emotional. This notwithstanding, I
can not avoid the truth. If words be necessary, I will try.
Why? Eli, the wandering angel, wayward and jaunting, told me to be
cool. Typical jargon, but I understand the intent. She is one of his
and surely he knows how best to deal with such kindred as she, as
himself. Be cool. I will try, for myself and for her. In truth and
basking still in God's love, we will make it through this. As one.