Chapter 11 – February 2026

© Jane Harvey-Berrick

Nuriel

“Anahita, I don’t know what to do,” I said, my arms wide in supplication. “Tell me what to do?”

“That, I cannot,” she said.

“But … aren’t you here to help me and guide me?”

She smiled softly.

“Have I not helped and guided you already?”

“Yes, but…”

“Then I can do no more.”

She sat beside me, her eyes drifting to the far horizon. Then her head tilted and her face broke into an ethereal smile.

“Do you hear them?” she said, clearly delighted and turning to me. “Our brothers and sisters are singing! Do you hear them?”

But I could not hear them because they were for angelic ears only.

Her face dropped.

“You can’t hear them? Not at all?”

I shook my head, my entirely too-human head, wishing so hard I could be part of those celestial celebrations.

“I must go now,” she said, eager to leave, “but I will come back, God willing.”

“Anahita, will you ask Father if…”

But she had already gone.

Tired and despondent, I couldn’t stay in that empty house. Instead, I turned and walked westwards towards the setting sun.

The air was cooler now and I’d forgotten to wear a jacket.

But as I crested the low hills that ringed Redrock, I saw the vastness of the ocean below and was soothed. My mortal concerns were nothing more than a tiny drop, caught and tossed in the surging foam with all the other trillions of drops of water, like so many human lives. We lived, we loved, we lost and we died, but we were all part of the rolling, restless ocean. Each single drop mattered, and I was not alone.

As the Earth tilted, sending the sun below the horizon, an immense palette of colors blossomed across the sky, a dazzling array of pinks, oranges, reds, and lilacs, all bleeding into the velvet darkness of night. A million stars appeared and the immensity of the universe made me smile.

And with it, a certainty that whispered inside my heart. Father had not instructed me to abstain from the winter dance at the high school, he had merely warned me to be on my guard. I was not abandoned: I was armed with knowledge.

“Thank you, Father,” I said, bowing my head.

And as I said the words, a shooting star flamed across the sky.

The next day, I informed Forrester that I would be honored to accompany him and Esther to the winter formal.

He looked at me as though my words had a double meaning even though they did not.

“I know, dude. We talked about it yesterday. I got three tickets ‘cause my date, Peggy, already has hers; you’re taking Esther.”

My forehead creased with concern.

“I do not think she will fit on my bicycle.”

Forrester took a deep breath, barely restraining his eyeballs from rolling in their sockets, and I sensed that I had once again mis-stepped.

“Dude, we’ll rent a limo, get all gussied up, and give the ladies the rides of their life, you know what I’m sayin’?” Then he sighed. “Probably not. But the point is, we rent the car—that’s our job. We wear tuxes, and the ladies get the shit-hot dresses. It’s not about us, it’s all about the dress. Remember that.”

Then he looked worried.

“Uh, do you have any money, man? To pay for the limo and the tux rental? I have some savings but I don’t think it’ll be enough…”

I sat up straighter.

“A job! Yes, I have a job.”

Forrester looked surprised.

“You do? That’s news to me.”

“I had forgotten in all the … the newness of everything, but I shall go there after school.”

“Go where?” he asked, looking puzzled.

“The coffee shop,” I nodded. “I shall work.”

“That’s a primo job, Rell!” he said, sounding surprised. “How did you swing that?”

“I did not swing, but my … Father arranged it for me.”

“He still working away?” he asked, his voice sympathetic.

I nodded and looked down.

“I travelled here without him, but I know he wishes me well.”

Forrester gave me a strange look, but did not mention the subject again.

All throughout the day, I was strangely excited to go to my new job. I hoped it was not a problem that I had forgotten to go there for the first two weeks of my mortal life, but as the whole world was accountable to Father, I was not worried.

I walked into the crowded coffee shop with my spirits high and quickly found the harassed owner carrying plates from the kitchen as I introduced myself.

“You’re two weeks late, kid!”

“I apologize—I am new in town. And everything has been … very confusing.”

He peered at me, his eyes narrowing.

“You ever waited tables before?”

“I have not.”

“Ever bussed a table before?”

I was uncertain of his meaning and it must have shown on my face because he raised his eyes to the ceiling and prayed.

“I am a hard worker,” I promised, speaking quickly. “I will always do my best—I know that I have a lot to learn.”

“Well, you haven’t impressed me so far, kid, but we’re slammed, so grab an apron and clear those tables. The name’s Brady. Whadda I call you?”

“Nur … I mean, Rell.”

“You sure?” he asked raising an eyebrow. “You don’t sound sure.”

“My name is Nuriel but at school I am called Rell.”

“Gotcha. Well, Rell, let’s get to work.”

I did as instructed piling dirty plates, glasses and cups onto heavy trays, then loading them into the dishwasher the way Brady showed me.

It was invigorating, and energy surged through me, making me fast and light on my feet. I felt great happiness when I saw the smiles of people as I brought them their food and beverages.

“What do I do with this, Brady?” I asked at the end of the evening, holding out a fistful of paper money.

His eyes bulged.

“You earn all that in tips?” he asked.

“People seemed to just leave it behind—perhaps they will come back for it?” I asked, a little confused.

He laughed.

“No, kid. Those are your tips, fair ‘n’ square. You did good this evening, Rell. Come back tomorrow and we’ll see if your magic charm works again.”

I walked home happy but tired, and well rewarded with the fruits of my labors.

Anahita was waiting for me.

“How was your job? It looked very interesting!”

“You saw?” I asked.

“Of course,” she smiled. “We see everything. You know this.”

“Indeed. And how are our brothers and sisters?” I asked, sad not to be a part of the heavenly host anymore, despite my new happiness in honest toil.

“They are well, Nuriel. Now tell me everything!”

I told her about my customers and how good it made me feel to serve them with things that made them smile; how fascinating it was to watch the interplay of people wishing to find their soulmates, and the ruses that they sometimes employed.

“Was Esther there?” Anahita asked. “Because I have been studying the effects of sexual tension in humans.”

I choked on the glass of water I was drinking.

“Sexual … tension?” I coughed.

“I have eyes, Nuriel. It is positively a miasma when you two are in the room together. I’m curious … what does it feel like?”

I glanced at her sideways, but one thing I did know about angels, they did not understand touch because they were not corporeal. For once, I was the master and she was the student.

But oddly, I found it hard to tell her about the emotional side of touching and being touched.

“I don’t know how to explain … but it’s like I am burning. Like my blood is heated. Like we are drawn together against our wills, against reason. And all I want to do is…”

“Yes?”

She was watching me intently, but suddenly, I was too ashamed to admit my lustful feelings. I could not meet her gaze.

“Combine,” I whispered.

“Excuse me?”

“Ah, don’t make me say it again, Anahita! I want to know her.”

“Sexually?”

“YES!”

She nodded wisely, a small smile gracing her divine face, and it made me want to sink through the floor.

“It is the urge to create life—the drive for all men to become gods and create life.” She smiled. “Perhaps she would like to do this with you after the winter formal.”

“Do you think so?” I asked, half hopeful and half appalled.

“Perhaps.”

“What do I do?”

She looked up, surprised.

“I have no idea.”

“Aaaagh!”

Anahita shook her head, and I had the impression that she was trying not to laugh.

“Well,” she said, at last. “The male member does seem to be a rather troublesome piece of anatomy.”

“You have no idea,” I said darkly.

“But it is a gift after all,” she went on.

“A gift? How is it a gift! It’s a curse. It’s all I can think about. Day and night, I have these … urges.”

Anahita shuddered.

“When you put it like that, it sounds awful.”

“Well, not entirely. The … end result can be very pleasant.”

“Ah,” she said, and smiled knowingly. “I understand how it works, Nuriel. Blood rushes to your male member. Correct?”

“I am not discussing that with you any further,” I said firmly.

“Oh! You’re blushing! Blood is rushing to your face. Is it also rushing to your…?”

“NO!”

I sprang to my feet, weariness falling away as embarrassment heated my entire body, and I strode upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

“Good night, Nuriel!”

Anahita’s tinkling laugh followed me up to my bedroom.

And even though my cheeks were burning, I smiled to myself.