The Messenger Read Free Page B

know,” Ariel said quietly.
    The woman glanced from the glass to Ariel’s face and back again. Her eyes widened. “Are you—”
    â€œHere,” Ariel said softly. “A gift.”
    One trembly hand reached over and accepted the glass. The woman swallowed noisily, then lay back, tired from the effort. Ariel set down the glass, patted the woman’s shoulder, and rose to her feet. “I must go.”
    â€œWait,” the woman said. She searched Ariel’s face, then asked quietly, “What is it like?”
    â€œJust as you said,” Ariel replied, turning toward the door with a smile. “It is home.”
    ****
    Light. Intensely glowing light. Issuing from everything. Light so softly powerful it was not content simply to shine upon him. Manny stood and felt the light illuminate the depths of his body and his mind.
    Manny searched the chamber in which he stood, his heart pumping and his chest heaving like mad. The great room was empty save for the light that poured from every surface. White benches lined the featureless white walls. There was no nook, no cranny, no shadowy corner where he could flee and hide. He was totally and utterly exposed.
    A door he had not seen slid back to admit a white-robed figure. Light shone from this person as well, making it hard for Manny to see whether it was man or woman, young or old.
    The light-person turned and looked at him. Manny sought a frantic escape path, saw nothing, no way out, not even the door through which the person had entered. He could see nothing but the light.
    A step closer, and Manny felt the light pouring forth with the person’s gaze. It searched not his face, but rather his twisted spirit. The pain of being so exposed would have been unbearable had it not been for the love with which the person looked at him. It was unquestioning, given without measure, illuminating the empty depths within Manny and filling them to overflowing.
    â€œYou are not intended to be here,” the person said.
    â€œYou’re telling me,” Manny stammered.
    â€œYou have something that is not yours. From whom did it come?”
    Manny was about to break his last and final cardinal rule and tell the truth. But a lifetime of living on lies was a heavy chain that pulled at his soul. He opened and closed his mouth, doing his best imitation of a goldfish, immobilized by the love that threatened to melt him down and reform him totally. He could feel the love and the light withering away his life of lies, cauterizing the wounds he had inflicted on himself.
    Then the pain of honest self-discovery proved too much. Manny turned, and without another thought or instant of wondering what he was leaving behind, he spun on his heel and fled toward what appeared to be a featureless, light-filled wall.
    A horn blared. Brakes squealed. Still blinded by what he had left behind, Manny leapt back and stumbled over the curb. A voice yelled out words which his mind could not yet take in, then the motor gunned and roared away.
    He was back.
    Manny raised himself up on trembling legs, dusted himself off, tried to still his heaving chest. His heart continued to beat like an overworked snare drum. He backed up to the wall, leaned heavy against it, tried to collect himself. He knew without understanding that the pain in his chest had nothing to do with his overworked heart. His whole being ached with a loss he could not fathom. He yearned for something he could scarcely believe existed.
    The love. It lingered about him like the faintest perfume. The love and the light had seared him. In those few moments, he had felt as though unseen shadows had been stripped from his eyes, his mind, his body, his very life.
    An empty, aching hollowness swelled within him, filled with the utter nothingness of a wasted life.
    Then a lifetime of habits kicked in. Anger swelled to fill the empty void, and more lies formed to veil him from the truth. That was what he got for breaking