Normal time is such a relative concept, even more profound than Einstein’s theories of relativity. One minute you know where you are without care or concern of the future and somehow end up there without recollection of the journey. Even the sixty fractions of an hour are easily forgotten, but you know something happened during that time. It’s similar to being drunk or high, although I couldn’t tell you from personal experience. My friends could elaborate on those stories.
Somehow we ended up here. A quarter till midnight in the middle of summer, almost a year since we met on the train. Actually, a year had past. July seventh. I still remembered the checkerboard shirt and white pants. She didn’t overdress to impress anyone, and that may be what attracted me.
Both my hands held the steering wheel and my right hand felt odd not on the arm rest. It was better to keep my hand away from her and concentrate on that future we so rarely plan for.
Moonlight casts long shadows across the empty parking lot. Just perfect. Though I preferred the privacy, it felt out of place to drive to an empty pond around midnight with a girl. Maybe she thought it was romantic. I felt as though hidden eyes or a camera surveyed me from a distance.
The wooden bridge stretched over the pond in a zigzag pattern to a white gazebo. My hands hesitated at the thought of being so close to her fingers. There wasn’t a steering wheel to use as an excuse to avoid holding her hand, and the tight pockets of my dress pants were too uncomfortable to slip my hands. Then the soft touch of her fingers found the spaces of my hand.
“Ready?” No matter well we’ve known each other, her voice always sounded timid and unsure of my response. I saw her eyes and returned to the moment we first met. Her eyes didn’t fit the trend. Everyone’s eyes turn dark in the shadows, but her eyes retained a haunting gloss to them. In the sunlight her eyes became clearer than the bottom of a lake. This was the first time I saw her eyes in moonlight. Instead of that crystalline depth created from sunlight, her eyes revealed a hidden curiosity. Maybe I just saw my own questions reflecting from her dark iris.
“Did you have fun tonight?” I released her hand for a moment to wrap my jacket across her bare shoulders. Her isabelline dress held the ambient light delicately. She remained silent, but I felt her acknowledging smile. The gazebo felt somewhat lonely with the two of us standing there facing the moon. Even through it felt obvious what would happen, I still couldn’t tell her. For months I planned this moment. Telling her in person felt more proper than continuing online chats, though the latter appeared easier.
“That full moon marks a year since we first met,” she said, walking to the edge of the gazebo. She shied away from the moon and she focused on her shoes. Her cheeks become warm and turned crimson.
I wondered if now would be appropriate to hug her from behind, nestling myself against her back. I wouldn’t have to rely on the breeze to smell her jasmine scented hair. Just as I approach her, my feet decide to step aside and stand on her right.
“You have a way with words, Vicky.” She looked up again, her black hair lying against the corner of her left eye. That smile of hers quivered and she stared longingly at the stars. The words pressed against my throat, reaching out from my heart. Yet I couldn’t manage to articulate the words. “You’re like a carnation draped in silk.”
“Your metaphor is more romantic, Jake,” she replied, holding back from looking at me again. I didn’t expect that response to her. My metaphor felt out of place. Somehow the awkwardness of my words made more sense than saying three simple words.
“It’s not the metaphor that’s cute; it’s the girl in the metaphor who’s cute.” The moonlight caught the chain around her neck. “You’re wearing the locket I gave you.”
“My most valuable possession rests closest to my heart.”
“It’s not really anything of any real value.” Before realizing it, I balance the locket between my fingers. “It’s just tin and plastic. I’m sorry I couldn’t get you anything nicer for your birthday.”
“Its value is in the quote you engraved: the value of love is intangible.”
“It’s kinda lame. At least that’s what my friends told me after I had it engraved.” Even though I wanted to keep my hand cradling the locket, I had to let go. I had to tell her. “Love really is about the things you can’t physically grasp. Like the way you first held that red maple leaf in October. It was such an innocent gesture. You were so puzzled. Or the tranquility of your voice when reciting Romeo and Juliet.”
“Or when your words stumble when I am near?” We both chuckled.
“Hey! It’s not my fault! Your beauty stopped my words. You’re so…beautiful. The way you naturally glow right now under the moonlight. Or the way your smile is so sincere. You’re so…innocent.”
Vicky turned to the water, her eyes searching for the best response. Somehow nothing could match his words.
“Thank you.”
“Your beauty is like those swans on the lake.” Sporadic courage returned to my throat, yet I calmed myself to reorganize my thoughts. Taking her hand, we moved closer to them. “They’re like angels on water. You’re the angel by my side.”
Turning to her, I gently caress her soft cheek. Perhaps this will be the night. She timidly held my hand in place and I leaned forward. Our lips tremble as I linger a breath away, waiting for her to reciprocate. But her head turned and my lips curled against her soft skin.
“I apologize, Jake, but you are late.”
“Late?”
Though she kept her eyes low, I could see tears crossing her cheeks. Maybe tonight was the wrong time to talk. Perhaps I confused our feelings. Her fingers grew weary and she stepped away with a sniffle.
“Where are you going?” My hand anchored her by my side, yet she cannot manage to look at me.
“We are not meant to be together, Jake.”
Her words stunned me. Even though I held her close she felt so distant. Then her fingers curled around mine as if to remind me she hadn’t left. Without her saying it, I felt the reason for her departure weighing down my courage.
“Is there someone else?”
“My life is too short to love too many.”
To hear that one word come from her first weakened my hand.
“Then why are you leaving?”
“It is because of a mistake I made. If I stay with you, I will suffer a thousand consequences as repayment.”
“What consequences? Heartbreak? Broken memories? Those will be the only consequences we will suffer if you leave now.”
“I…if I had accepted the rules of love, then I could stay,” she says, biting her lower lip. “But I did fall in love.”
She said love with little reassurance, as if the word weakened her voice. Again she held onto her lower lip to prevent any truth from becoming real.
“Does that mean you will stay?”
“No…love…love is the rule of mortals.”
“What?”
“I cannot stay here with you or anyone else in this world; I must return to the world I came from to prevent your pain.”
“If you leave now, you’ll cause me more pain than I can bear.” Strength
“Jake, you showed me a world and gave me new life. I could never repay you.”
“Yes! Yes you can!” My pleas turned into desperation. There was no inclination of anything more than remaining Platonic friends, but the tension gave more than that. I swallowed my last words. “Only for tonight and then you can leave.”
“If only you understood. Tonight will be my last night in the living.”
“Are you dying?” My throat became swollen on the word
“No.” Through her tears a soft smile formed from her lips. How could she still smile? Perhaps this was a joke all along. As she blinked again, tears rolled away from her dimples.
“What are you trying to say?”
“We are bound by law to protect humans,” she says, her memory reciting a sacramental commandment, “We protect them based on our spiritual connection to them. We are forbidden to fall in love. Should love be reciprocated, we must return by midnight after the lapse of one year.”
We. The plural noun had been pronounced four times and she hadn’t clarified whom these people were. Her every word continued provoking a clarification that she was unwilling to tell.
“I’ve never heard of such a law.”
“That is because it is not the law of man.”
“What?”
“It is the law of my people.” Finally the truth tugged against her throat.. “I am an angel.”
“Yeah, you are an angel.” I reached for her cheek and to my surprise, she pulled away.
“No, not one of those cute names couples name each other. I am a real angel.”
“Like,” I begin, not daring to say the next word, “from heaven?”
“Yes.”
“Really now?” I nervously laughed. “An angel from heaven? That’s a good one.”
“I am not joking.” She seemed unaffected by my reaction. Her words appeared rehearsed.
“Vicky, we have to die before becoming angels, and we’re very much alive.” This seemed harder to say than professing my feelings for her. I guess in a way my feelings expressed themselves, even if not in the manner I intended. “If you don’t like me, just say it straight forward, ‘Jake, I don’t like you,’ instead of treating me like a child. Go ahead and be with your special someone.”
Her locket caught my attention and I thought of snatching it. That would be too cruel. Instead, I turned sharply away with fists clenched, hoping to hold onto what little I had of her. My first relationship built upon a lie of this girl regarding herself more highly than her peers.
“It has been a year since that car accident and your coma.”
My fists clench suddenly and held me still on the pier. I never told her about the car accident or coma. I never found the need to tell her of the event that nearly killed me.
“How do you know about the car accident?”
“You said we first met last summer on the train, but I have known you since your coma last January. I met your soul in purgatory.” Her eyes recaptured my soul. “Your soul was so beautiful, an unfathomable innocence that I could not allow your life to end. I was attracted to your soul, thus God allowed me to be your guardian angel. I escorted your soul back to your body.”
“Me? Beautiful? You gotta kidding me! Out of all guys in the world, the most beautiful girl chooses me?”
“Material beauty becomes corrupt over time. I knew the beauty of your soul, and that was all I needed to understand.”
The overwhelming truth startled me, and I tried to define the deceit between the words. But her every syllable attracted a more solid truth that was grounded more strongly than my denials.
“Then it’s true. You really are an angel.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did not want you to think I was crazy.”
I almost laughed at her modesty. I could appreciate any other word than crazy to define her. It was insulting to think that she’s crazy.
“How could anyone think that such a beautiful girl, whose eyes hinder words, whose hair catches the breeze, and whose skin feels like rose petals, is crazy?” My fingers traced the dried tears. “Those who dare think you are crazy are crazy themselves. What does a beautiful girl fear?
“I feared I would hurt you if we fell in love. I am not meant to love, but to protect.”
“Did you protect me out of love or because you’re an angel?”
“Back then, I did not understand what love was; I was performing my duty as an angel: to protect.”
“Then don’t worry; it’s not your fault.” Though I felt at ease with a guardian angel by my side, I felt less than human. So I’m just an assignment given to her by God. “You were just doing your job and not expecting to fall in love. I’m sure God will forgive you.
“Jake,” she says softly.
I didn’t realize the hint of sarcasm between the syllables. Somehow I had the courage to speak out against God yet couldn’t tell Vicky I loved her. I realize the sin I’ve committed and attempt to ask for His forgiveness.
“Perhaps God will forgive you. He allowed us to meet by making you my guardian angel; perhaps He will allow you to stay.”
Vicky shook her head slowly while approaching me. A calm smile on her face recognized my willingness to speak to Him, but she stood before me as His messenger.
“No, He will not allow it. Do not worry Jake; your heart will be put to rest after tonight.”
“Am I going to die?”
“No.”
“Then how is my heart going to be put to rest? I will remember you, your eyes, your smile, your face. I will always remember you, and this memory is going to plague me for eternity.”
“To destroy a human’s heart is the cruelest crime an angel can commit.”
“Then don’t leave me.”
“Sometimes you have to sacrifice your own desires for the benefit of someone else.”
“Letting go of you would be the greatest sacrifice I could make.”
“Letting go of me will not be the only sacrifice you will make.”
“What else am I sacrificing?”
“What you fear losing most: your memories. You will not remember my eyes, my smile, my face, or even the clothes I wore when we first met. To ensure I don’t break your heart, our memory will be erased from your mind.”
“No, that’s impossible. I don’t accept it,” I say, stepping away from her. If anything I turned to my memories to reassure myself of happiness. The pain of those memories ensured me that time did happen.
“It is the only way your heart will be relieved from its pain of my memory.”
“I would rather die than forget the angel I love. No matter what happens between us, if you do return to heaven and I marry someone else,” I say, once again denying the holy sacrament, “I will always remember you and there will always be a place for you inside my heart.”
“Now I understand why angels cannot fall in love, whether it is in the dimensions of earth or the realms of heaven: the heart is too fragile to take rejection of love.”
“Aren’t you allowed to love in heaven?”
“Like you said earlier about swans: they are pure like angels. We are supposed to be pure creatures and must remain chaste. Thus, we will remain pure for eternity.”
“I don’t believe this.”
“You will not have to in a few minutes.”
I don’t understand how God can do this. Maybe it’s a test of endurance to see how far we will go to retain our love.
“Maybe we can change this.”
“No.”
“You’d rather follow someone else’s rules than pursue your own dreams?”
“There is not another way.”
“None?” I ask her. It is no longer her innocent gaze that hinders my words but my voice that causes her to think.
“There is one way.”
“What?” My ears burned with the desire to hear the action I or she needed to make.
“You can revoke your love for me,” she replied, awaiting the unforgivable response.
“No. I would never revoke my love for you.”
“Thank you, Jake.” Tears flowed freely as we embraced. I could feel her head against my heart.
“For what?”
“For allowing me to feel love.”
“Can you not be an angel?” I asked childishly.
“That is impossible. It is like me asking you not be human.”
“But you’re not being an angel because you’ve been living with us during this year.”
“And soon, my time here will expire because I broke the rules.”
“But there must be other angels who’ve broken the rule as well. “
“Yes, there have been several accounts of angels falling in love, and they are dealt with in the same manner as I will be.” I remain silent, curious to know her punishment. “I live in regret by remembering the one I love, for the rest of my days.”
“And I’m punished through forgetting you?”
“It is to ensure your heart does not experience pain, and I remember my failure of falling in love.”
“Love isn’t failure. Love is what brought us together.”
“And love is what took us apart. Do not worry about me, Jake; you are going to forget.”
“What about the friends you’ve made here?”
“They will forget me as well.”
“So everything you’ve done will no longer exist? Wiped from history?”
“Yes.”
“All humans experience the pain of breaking up.”
“But not all humans experience the pain of breaking up with an angel.”
“I want to remember as well. I want to be tortured in remembering you.”
This was the strangest paradox. Though I didn’t want to forget, I would never be able to remember once she left. Unless I could prevent it.
“I cannot make the decision,” she replied.
I backed away from her, knowing well enough now that his conflict is between God and I. She can’t make the decision for us to retain our friendship, but I had the power to see her again. I stepped onto the bench out to the water and see heaven’s reflection in the distorted moon.
“What if I die? Will I meet you again?”
I’ve reached her finally. She doesn’t respond as quickly as before. Suicide never approached her as delicately as it had now.
“I will not allow you to do that! I saved your life a year ago; does that mean anything to you?”
“You saved my life,” I said, my responses outwitting hers, “But life’s meaningless without you.”
“We cannot, Jake.” Her hand met mine, but I did not move.
“But I want to be with you.”
“I will be with you in heart.”
“In heart but not in mind. If I die, will I meet you in heaven?” I asked, but her silence provoked me. “Will we meet again in heaven?”
“No, we will never meet again in heaven. Heaven is far too vast for us to meet again.”
Heaven’s size didn’t mean I couldn’t find her, but I no longer want to provoke her. Even if I forget her and not be able to keep this memory, I don’t want her to suffer remembering our quarrel.
“Can you defy the rules and stay here?”
“You can defy the rules of man, but not of God.”
I followed the moonlight to her eyes again and a glimmer of silver found my gaze.
“I have an idea to remember you. Let me hold onto your locket,” I say, taking her most precious item into my fingers.
“Will this work?”
“We’ll see. How long do we have together?”
“Midnight, which is–”
“Don’t tell me the exact time we have left together; let’s just savor this moment we have before it ends.” My arms wrapped around her tightly. With eyes closed, I made a wish. Wishing seemed more potent with closed eyes. “Perhaps I can prevent the spell. If I hold onto you, maybe you can stay. Forever.”
I’d never felt the cool breeze after midnight. Usually I’m inside watching a movie or playing a game. But tonight was different.
“What is this?” I say, feeling the cold chain wound between my fingers, “The value of love is intangible? What value? It’s just tin and plastic. Where did I even get this?”
I toss the locket and chain into the water and a pair of swans took off into the air, following the path of the moonlight. I whispered their names before walking across the gazebo.
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