Fallen (Part 3)
The brothers reached their house and entered it quietly. Their mother looked up from the hearth in the middle of the room and sighed impatiently. "Where have you two been? Your father has been searching for you," she said reproachfully.
"We found something in the woods, Mother. We thought it would be best to bring it home so Father could
decide what to do with it," Joseph said as he released his bundle to the floor. The angel landed with a harsh thump on the grass covered ground.
"What is it?" their mother asked as she stood up and walked over to them with her daughter in the crook of one arm.
James gave Joseph a light punch on his arm. "Not an it, Mother. A he. We believe this is an angel. See the wings?"
Their mother handed the baby girl over to James and knelt down beside the still figure. She reached out and lightly grazed his wings. The angel moaned and shifted, but did not wake. "An angel. Here, in our home," she said in a tone of disbelief. "But why is he so filthy? Are those bloodstains?"
"James thinks he fell from heaven. Perhaps he was hurt in the process?"
"Or perhaps he was cast out of heaven," their mother said as she stood back up and held her arms out for her daughter.
"I doubt that," said James softly as he placed his sister within her mother’s arms.
"Well, we can ask him when he wakes up. In the meantime, I think it best if you put him in your sleeping chambers. He is in the way here," she said.
"Mother, he seems to be injured. Do you think you could take a look at him? See if you can help him?" James asked.
Their mother sighed but nodded. "Yes, of course. Take off those garments and lay him on your bed. I will be there in a moment."
"Thank you Mother," James said as he watched Joseph pick the angel up from the ground and take him to their sleeping chambers. Again, Joseph let him drop to the bed instead of placing him on it. James winced as the angel landed roughly but he said nothing. He then watched as his brother walked towards the threshold.
"I am going to find Father. Do you think you can handle him by yourself?" he asked.
"Yes, you go ahead."
Joseph smiled and walked away, leaving James in the darkening room with the still unconscious angel. He sat down on the bed and forced himself to concentrate on the task of getting the angel out of his clothes. It was so tempting to stop and admire the tranquil features. So tempting to stop and lightly trace those features with his fingertips, but he kept his mind on his task and did not stop until the angel was completely undressed. His wings did not allow him to lay on his back, so James positioned him so that he lay on his side. Once he appeared relatively comfortable, James paused to look, to really look, at the being before him. He realized in awe that his body was almost as perfect as his face, or, would have been, had it not been for the dark bruises and the cruel scratches that adorned it.
He felt a blush rise in his cheeks as he realized that he was staring at a naked man. Well, not a man exactly, although except for the presence of wings, he looked just like a man. A beautiful man. He quickly pulled a heavy linen blanket over the angel’s body just as his mother was entering the room, her daughter still in her arms.
"Is he ready, James?" she asked.
"Yes, Mother," he answered as he stepped away from the bed.
"Take Elizabeth, James," she said as she handed the squirming child over.
James took the child in his arms and watched silently as his mother sat on the edge of the bed. She moved the blanket away and gasped as her eyes fell on the wounds on the angel’s body. "My…" was all she said before she set to cleaning the wounds.
She worked quickly and efficiently and before too long the worst of the wounds had been taken care of and bandaged. She stood up and wiped her brow tiredly. "I have to finish dinner James. We should let him rest awhile."
James nodded dutifully. "I will be right out, Mother. Thank you for taking care of him," he said sincerely as he handed his sister to their mother.
"Fine, but do not dawdle," she said as she turned on her heel and left the room.
James watched her retreating figure and then turned his attention back to the bed. He thought it odd that he seemed to be the only one affected by the fact that there was an angel in their house. Everyone else acted as if this were nothing out of the ordinary. As he again sat down on the bed his thoughts turned to his father. Would he understand that they were involved in a miracle? Or would he act like Joseph and his mother? Worst yet, would he somehow be inconvenienced by this?
As his mind explored the many possibilities, he stared down at the angel without really seeing him. He did not even realize that the angel had awakened until he felt the bed shift. James instantly became aware as he focused on the dark blue eyes that fixed him with their gaze. James thought that he had never seen eyes that color, a blue as cold and dark as the depths of the ocean itself.
"Do not be afraid," he found himself whispering. "You are safe here."
The angel merely looked at him while fear flashed across his face. Then he pushed himself on his elbow and looked around the room wildly.
"Shh, it’s all right now. You are safe here. You are safe here." James continued to repeat these words as he consciously worked to keep his tone as soothing as possible.
His words seemed to have the desired effect, for the angel no longer appeared as if he wanted to bolt from the room. Instead he seemed to relax his body, his shoulders slumping forward tiredly. A few seconds later, James noticed that the angel’s body appeared to be trembling. He leaned in closer to his face and saw what looked like tears coursing down the pale cheeks. For all intents and purposes they appeared to be tears, except that their color was not clear, but instead a light, shimmering gold.
Without thinking, James took his hand and gently brushed one of the tears away. The angel backed away slightly but made no other move or sound. As James continued to stare at the beautiful face in misery before him, he brought his fingertips to his lips.
The tears of an angel, he thought dazedly as his tongue snaked out to lap at the golden liquid still on his fingers. The shock of the taste caused him to gasp softly. The tears tasted like the sweetest honey. They looked like the purest gold and tasted like the sweetest honey. Again he found himself in awe.
He was about to speak again when he heard a noise from behind him. He turned to see the tall figure of his father walking intently across the threshold.
"So James. What is it you and your fool brother have brought home this time?"