Preacher's Daughter: Chapter 2

Rachael finished eating at the lasagna that her sister had made for dinner, apparently Dawn had tried her hand in cooking dinner, which turned out to be lasagna, which was one of those meals that was a little confusing to make and if you did it wrong you could mess it up. And Dawn was a master of messing things up, the lasagna was cooked for way too long and the sauce had all of the liquid evaporated from it and the pasta itself was so burnt that she swore she was trying to eat a charcoal brisket. She tossed the plate of lasagna aside and noticed a raccoon out in the backyard scrounging around for some scraps of food. She took the plate of lasagna and slid the door open, as she did the raccoon stood on its hind legs in anticipation of some tasty treat.

“Bon Appetit, Mama.” Rachael placed the plate of lasagna on the ground for the raccoon to reach it, the raccoon sniffed it took a taste of it, and made a short series of noises as two baby raccoons joined her in their little midnight meal.

“Well,” a voice came from behind Rachael with a hint of bitterness, mixed with awe, “I’m glad to see that someone enjoys my cooking.”

“Dawn,” Rachael turned to her sister and frowned, startled by her presence. “It… was… well, just what was… you know… left over.”

“Rachael,” Dawn barked, “it was the whole damned slice of lasagna I specially saved for you. The best piece, even!”

“The best?” Rachael parroted as a wince washed across her face, feeling sorry for her parents for being made to actually eat the stuff.

“The best.”

“Ugh,” Rachael grunted out, wondering what the other slices were like. “For your first-time cooking pasta, you should have made spaghetti or even easier yet, elbows, but lasagna is a bit of a harder pasta dish to make.”

“But you make lasagna all the time!!”

“That’s because I know what I need to do to make it and watch it like a hawk when it’s cooking.”

“At least Bandit is enjoying it,” Bandit was the name Dawn had given to one of the baby raccoons who seemed to be enjoying the lasagna the most out of anybody, even the other raccoons.

“That he is,” Rachael watched Bandit for a minute before she decided to slide the doors closed, just so it wouldn’t come wandering in looking for more. Not that she minded seeing them in the house, but that was usually when someone was watching them.

“What are you going to eat now?”

“Fortunately,” Rachael pulled a Styrofoam container of hot wings and fries she had the line cook make for her out of the microwave. “I have these.”

“Well,” Dawn said in a huff,” I’m going to start getting ready for bed, see you in the morning.”

“OK.”

Rachael was ready for bed just a few minutes after eating the wings which, she had read through her little devotional from one of those paperback monthly booklets that came in the mail every month that had her read through the Bible in a year, plus the scripture of the day with a little remark or antic dote that was somewhat loosely and even vaguely related to the scripture of the day.

She usually followed her reading with some sort of a prayer, one of those prayers she had learned as a kid, that kind of stuck with her, but she kind of knew already that “Now I lay me down to sleep…” or some other kiddie prayers weren’t going to cut it, not tonight. This one needed to be more... adult in nature. She looked at the picture of Clark she had framed and put on the nightstand next to her bed.

“Dear Lord, I don’t even know where to begin tonight, and maybe I’m saying a prayer that I should have said a long, long time ago, but it concerns Clark. You see, he’s stuck in the role of being the caretaker of his elderly and sickly mother, a role he doesn’t wish to be in. I just pray that he would be somehow released of his obligations to her and…”

As Rachael continued her wordy and meandering prayer, she noticed the moon outside her window, it was hanging high in the sky full, close, and bright. As she looked at it, she could see a comet streak across in front of it and burn out as soon as it crossed its path. It was a beautiful sight, and she stopped in her prayer just long enough to wonder if someway, somehow Clark was watching the same sight in the night sky, even though he was over 400 miles away.

As Clark sat on the front porch to the house he had come to hate, he hated it in every way possible, so much so that as soon as his mother would finally give in to dying, he was out of there. He had in his hand a picture, an old picture of Rachael he had taken of her on the day she moved. He wanted to give in and follow her on the day her family moved, but he knew if it took a day, or if it took a decade, he was obligated against his will to stay with his mother until she died.

He noticed the moon, it was hanging high in the sky full, close, and bright. As he looked at it, he could see a comet streak across in front of it and burn out as soon as it crossed its path. It was a beautiful sight, and he stopped in what he was doing just long enough to wonder if in some way, somehow Rachael was watching the same sight in the sky, even though she was countless miles away.

“Oh, God...”

A strange feeling swept over Rachael as she went back into her prayer almost like she suddenly knew the words to speak. “I feel that the time of Mrs. Johnson’s death is upon us. I pray that she will be released of the aches and the pains of her life, so that in turn Clark will find his release from his obligations to her. I pray that you will send one of your angels to her so they could guide her through death’s door from her time of pain and agony to your loving arms.”

The shimmer of light appeared out of nowhere, it started as a tiny dot, then expanded until it illuminated the entire porch with an almost pure brightness. In that bright light, a figure appeared, and as the body of the figure began to take shape, decidedly in the form of a man the light began to subside.

Clark saw a man standing to the side of the porch, normally in Philly, especially now, when you saw a strange man suddenly appearing on your porch out of nowhere two minutes before midnight, even one who appeared in a shimmer of light, you usually met him with the closest blunt object you could grab. In his case, he had a baseball bat, but he didn’t use it. The man was slightly shorter than he was with long flowing white hair, yet a boyish, almost cherubic charm to him. He could tell by his demeanor that the man meant him no harm. Instead, a slim smile came to his face as he looked at the man who seemed to be shimmering ever so slightly. As he stood there studying the man, he realized who and what the man was.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Clark said quietly, “but it’s about time.”

“Sadly, the time wasn’t right until now,” the man said softly, as he looked up at the moon that was directly behind his head.

“Time?” Clark asked. “Time for what?”

The figure looked at a list that was in his hand. “Let's just say that I'm not here for you. You DO know who I am, right?”

“Yes, Clark sighed. In knowing what you are…who you are. How is it that I can see you?” Clark asked, as he led the way to where his mother lie in her bed, which was up a long darkly lit flight of stairs and down a hall. “And I would expect you to be wearing a long flowing black robe with a skeletal frame, not a silvery robe and long flowing white hair and an almost schoolboy look.”

The man, if one wanted to call him that, laughed. “Well, special provisions were made so that you can see me. And there are more occasions than I wish to tell where the skeletal appearance, among a few other unimaginable imageries are necessary and even needed, but it all depends on which way I am going after I pass through the door with the deceased.”

“I get it; the robed skeleton is for someone who is going to Hell, and the flowing white hair and silvery robe for someone who is going to Heaven.”

“Well--.”

Rachael continued her prayer. “May Clark find the wherewithal to release her, and she him so your angel can guide her through death’s door and put her into your loving arms.”

Clark looked at his mother as she lay on the bed, she looked older than what she really was, much older, but all through her life she knew nothing but pain and suffering from her childhood, which from what she told him, was not a good one, to here and now.

“Mom,” Clark leaned in close, even with her hearing aids in, she was almost stone cold deaf, so even though this was a solemn moment, he had to speak loudly, “there is someone I want you to meet.”

“Who?” the voice came softly, almost non-existent in content.

“My name is Gabriel,” as the man spoke a door appeared beside the bed in which Doris lay, “I am here to guide you through that door.”

“I’m ready,” Doris said as her body drifted into eternal sleep, but she felt weightless and young, she began to follow Gabriel through the door.

“Upon his mother’s death, may Clark find his true purpose in life, whether it be with me or somewhere else.”

“I have a message for you,” Gabriel looked back to Clark with a suddenness and spoke as he looked at the picture that Clark was gripping in his hand, “you’ll find Miss Collins in a place called Calvary Hill. When your affairs are settled here, go there, she is waiting for you.”

“Calvary Hill?” Clark asked, just to be sure, although he already knew. “Miss. Rachael Collins is unmarried and, in a place, called Calvary Hill?”

“Yes,” Gabriel said, “and even now she is praying on your behalf. In many ways, this is happening in this manner because of that prayer that is being prayed even as we speak.”

Doris turned to look at her son one last time, even as the door behind her began to close; her voice drifted into nothingness. “Now, you may go to her. I release you…--.”

All of a sudden, Rachael began to feel like she was praying too much, and decided to bring it to a close, as the prayer began to feel awkward, “well, you know, uh…amen.”