Anghariel sat on a bench in Durand-Eastman Park in Rochester, Upstate New York. The bench wasn’t exceptionally comfortable, but he didn’t feel like sitting on the ground since it was autumn, and the ground was muddy and wet after a few days of constant rain.
The Archangel was in a grumpy mood, even though he didn’t exactly know the reason. Finally, after hissing at a few of his brothers and an entire troop of his warriors, he decided to put some distance between the others and himself and try to figure out what bugged him so severely.
Technically, he knew the reason, but that didn’t mean he needed to admit it to anyone.
He picked this particular park because it was quiet, and even though it wasn’t entirely dark yet, there was no living soul around; maybe they’d stay away because, according to rumors, the park was haunted by ‘The White Lady.’
Anghariel chuckled. From what he knew, ghosts would spook between midnight and one in the morning, which was still quite far away.
He watched nature around him. Even though a human would say it was ‘completely quiet,’ it wasn’t. Anghariel’s ears and highly sensitive eyes caught movement in the grass and bushes. Animals ran and hid, hunted, and escaped.
Suddenly, he felt a cold hand on his shoulder and literally jumped up and whirled around, only to discover a shimmering white shape, nearly translucent, trying to escape… but he grabbed the form’s wrist with an iron hand and held on.
The shape in front of him slowly became more solid, so he could recognize a shocked facial expression. He discovered that whoever this was apparently turned out to be female.
When the shape wailed to get away, Anghariel sharply replied: “Don’t piss me off, lady. I’m not in the mood for difficulties or ghost stories. You won’t get away until you’re telling me what the hell you’re doing here and why you touched me.”
The wailing disappeared, and the shape turned even more solid, but still not in a way that he could say it was a ‘normal human being.’
In a regular voice, the lady replied. “I saw you sitting there and decided to shock the living daylight out of you. I’m looking for my missing daughter but cannot find her. I forgot how long I looked, but she disappeared yesterday.”
Anghariel frowned. “Uhm… when was ‘yesterday’ for you, lady?” The woman informed him. “October 16, 1842.” Anghariel laughed. “Well, believe me… if your daughter went missing that fall, she’s been gone for a very, very long time.”
The woman sighed. “I thought so… but I still didn’t want to give up, convinced she’d be returning to me one day.”
Anghariel looked at her. “Is that why you’re still here and can’t cross over?” the woman stared at him. “Cross over—to where?” That was the moment it dawned on Anghariel that the lady apparently didn’t know she was dead.” He carefully asked her. “It is about 170 years later. I’m sorry I have to inform you that you have passed on.”
The woman looked at him. “Of course, I know I’m a ghost, dummy. But I have no idea where to go from here.”
Then she looked down at her wrist and Anghariel’s hand around it and frowned. When she looked back up again, she was confused. “How can you hold my arm? I’m not even solid.”
Anghariel chuckled. “How can you see me despite me being a supernatural creature?”
The White Lady’s facial expression grew curious. “What kind of supernatural being are you?” Anghariel laughed. “Of course, you wouldn’t know. I keep on hiding my attributes.” She stared at him.
So, Anghariel briefly looked over his shoulder and carefully unhid his wings. The lady’s eyes grew big. “Oh! Oh, how wonderful! An angel! I never thought I’d ever see an angel in my life.” Anghariel dryly replied. “You didn’t.”
She looked at him with a pretty hurt expression, and Anghariel felt sorry. “Let’s concentrate on you and find out what the next steps should be.” He looked down at her. “Unless you feel like spooking around the park for another 200 or more years.”
She laughed. “Not really. But what can you do?” Anghariel smiled and opened his mouth. “Ahem… what’s your name? I’d like to address you properly. Calling you ‘lady’ is a bit odd.” She smiled. “My name is Marjory.”
Anghariel let her arm go and started walking around the park, closely followed by the White Lady.
He explained. “Usually, when people pass on – they’re supposed to ‘pass on.’ Their souls are picked up and brought home, where they belong, depending on their life. At times, they’re picked up by the other side, but you don’t need to worry about that. Since it’s so long ago that you passed away, I’m afraid you will have to be picked up by someone a bit more experienced. I will call someone to get you, but I must warn you that there is no turning back. You will be taken home when you’re prepared. But turn away; you might be taken by the other side, and believe me, you don’t want to go where they’d take you.”
Marjory swallowed. “Sure. But… how come I wasn’t picked up when I died? I just remained in non-corporeal form, floating through the park.”
Anghariel smiled. “You might just not have been ready to leave. Maybe searching for your daughter was your priority rather than going home.”
Marjory clapped her little hands and asked enthusiastically. “And I can really go to Heaven?” Anghariel confirmed it. “Sure.”
He smiled down at her. “I just called someone to come and pick you up. Are you ready?” She nodded. “I am. I can’t wait to find out what heaven looks like.”
Anghariel chuckled. “You will find out. But let’s get you there first.”
A breathtaking female angel ‘fell’ out of the air only a few minutes later and gracefully landed next to Anghariel. “Hey, Ang. You called?”
He nodded. “Yes. Hi Katie. It’s good to see you. Thank you very much for replying to my call so quickly. But I needed an advanced Soul Taker to bring Marjory home. She remained down here for 170 years. I think it’s time.”
Katie was a gorgeous angel with white wings, brown eyes, and caramel-colored hair. She had the features and the beauty of a runway model but was never vain about it. That was just part of who she was.
The ‘Soul Taker’ angel turned to Marjory. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you, Marjory. Now, see this vessel I’m holding in my hand. I opened it, and you have nothing else to do than enter the vessel through that little door.”
Marjory looked at Katie, a bit helpless. “But… this is far too small!” Katie smiled. “It will be just the right size, I promise. Currently, you’re in a translucent humanoid form because that’s how you were when you left this Earth. But you are purely spiritual now. And the vessel is not changing that. It’s only a medium for transport.”
The White Lady floated toward the vessel and disappeared through the opening. Katie closed the little latch and looked at Anghariel with a smirk. “Are you searching for your good deed of the day, or is this a coincidence?” Anghariel chuckled. “The latter.” He replied shortly.
Both angels took off the ground at the same time. Anghariel kept close to Katie, well knowing, that Raphael would be furious finding out his wife had been left alone.
On their way home they discovered a few ‘Collectors’, but they kept their distance. “It seems, old souls imprisoned on Earth don’t hold much interest for the other side,” Katie stated. Anghariel kept his eyes open but didn’t discover anything unusual until they were home.
Katie delivered Marjorie’s soul to the angels waiting at their destination and then walked over to Anghariel’s house.
After he brewed some coffee, they sat on the porch swings, softly rocking, drank coffee, and ate cookies. Katie listened to Marjorie’s life as she had told it to Anghariel. After that, he paused, and they both kept rocking slowly until Katie asked, “Will you tell her that her daughter is on the other side?”
Anghariel stared at her for a moment, and then they both burst out laughing and could barely stop…
Finally, after a few other members of ‘The Council of Twelve’ had curiously joined them, he replied to Katie. “Let’s play it by ear. She might not be interested to know it. We’ll see.”
Later that night, Anghariel was back in Rochester’s Durand Park, he felt better, at least a little bit. However, he also regretted, that the park now had to exist without its major tourist attraction, the White Lady.
*****
(Copyright, A. J. Alexander, April 2024)
Writer's Treasure Chest 
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