Chapter 7 – September 2025

Previously in ‘Heaven, Hell or High School’…

Nuriel is, was, an angel. But now he’s trapped in the body of a 17 year-old guy. It’s God’s idea of tough love to teach Nuriel humility and not to make bets with any demons, especially not Lamia.

But first he has to get used to having a mortal body, a human body…

Waking came slowly, a dim grasp that I was transiting from sleep’s dominion.

Celestial beings do not sleep and consequently we do not wake, so my understanding was slow as my eyes opened on my first full day as a human.

Everything hurt.

No, that was wrong, but I was aware of my body: the heaviness in my limbs, the dryness of my mouth, confusion receding from my mind.

And a pressure in my groin that was unexpected.

My male member was rigid, large, and an alarming shade of purple against my stomach. I was filled with horrid fascination, excitement and revulsion; knowledge and desire thrumming through the blood in my veins.

I knew and yet not knew what was happening to me.

I had been intrigued and repulsed the night before when I had urinated, but this … this bizarre condition! And to think, humans craved it.

Watchful, I eased from the tangled sheets to sit on the edge of the bed, perturbed when it jutted before me as if the desire to procreate came before meaningful awareness or thought. Tentatively, I pushed it down with my hand, shocked when a bolt of pleasure electrified my whole body.

I gasped, my eyes wide. I touched it again and my eyes fluttered closed as pleasure consumed me.

“Nuriel, are you awake?” Anahita’s voice floated up the stairs. “I think you have a visitor.”

Startled and ashamed, I stumbled to my feet, full of guilt. And suddenly, I understood the meaning of ‘guilty pleasure’. I had never before been able to untangle what to me, seemed an oxymoron. How could anything be pleasurable if one felt guilty? But now I knew … I knew why the Tree of Knowledge was so dangerous, because even as shame burned within me, I wanted to touch it again.

“Nuriel?”

Her voice was outside my door.

“A moment,” I said, my voice sounding strangled. “I am … without clothing.”

“There’s a girl in a car outside the house. She’s sitting there, but I think she’s going to knock on the door. Oh yes! She has your book of Edwin Arlington Robinson poems. Why does she have that?”

“I must have left it at the library yesterday,” I said. “I … I have to dress now.”

“Humans shower before they dress,” said Anahita. “And you did sweat a lot: fascinating!”

As she said the words, I became aware of the odors my body was releasing from my armpits. My stomach lurched, but since it was empty and I had not yet eaten, only bile burned my throat.

“I’m going downstairs now,” said Anahita. “I’m going to talk to this human.”

“Annie, no!” I said, but it was too late.

Unsure what to do, I ran naked to the tiny bathroom, and jumped into the shower. The cold water shocked me fully awake, and finally, finally, my male member was reduced to more normal proportions.

I pulled on a set of old clothes that had seemingly been provided with the house and ran down the stairs, pausing as I recognised Esther’s voice.

“Oh hi. Is this Nuriel Adams’ house? Mrs. Adams? Um, I’m Esther Moran. I, um, go to school with Nuriel.”

“Of course you do,” said Anahita, her voice unnaturally sweet, even to my human ears. “Hello, Esther Moran.”

“Yeah, hi. So, um, is he here?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Esther said slowly, drawing out the second syllable to a painful length. “Can I see him?”

“He just woke up and is naked. Do you like reading, Esther Moran?”

“Um, yeah, I do. I work in the library at school.”

I could hear the confusion in Esther’s voice. Is that how I sounded? So … human?

I knew that I had to teach myself the cadence of human communication, study its rhythms and nuances. I had much to learn.

“Of course you do. And you have Nuriel’s book.”

“Oh, right, yeah,” said Esther. “That’s why I’m here. He left it yesterday. In the library. And I wasn’t sure if I’d see him in school,” she rushed on. “And I can tell it’s really valuable, so I didn’t want to just leave it there. I mean, wow, it’s an E. A. Robinson first edition.”

“Keep it, Esther Moran,” said Anahita.

“Excuse me?”

“Keep it, please. We have many books from Father’s house.”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly!” Esther replied, sounding flustered.

“Books are gifts to those who read them,” Anahita replied.

“But … it’s too much. It’s a valuable book.”

“Our gift to you, Esther Moran.”

There was a long silence, and I felt as if I was eavesdropping on a private moment. I turned on silent feet, but not before I heard Esther thank my friend.

“Show me your favorite poem,” Anahita commanded gently.

Their voices faded as I walked into the kitchen, my stomach clenching in a way that I now understood meant hunger: I needed to eat.

I was aware that the students at school paid for their lunches with dollar bills, plastic cards which represented dollar bills, and some showed their phones. I wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but I assumed it was part of a financial transaction. I was glad I didn’t have to worry about any of that: God would provide.

The kitchen, now clean after my evening’s work, held two wooden chairs and a table which I’d scrubbed, a stove which required burning wood to be inserted into it, a noisy, spurting tap, and a pantry filled with shelves of canned goods. None of the cans were labeled so I had no idea what they would produce.

I selected the one nearest to me and pondered how to open it. Then I remembered that there was a drawer under the table with knives, forks, spoons and some other utensils. I choose a knife that looked sturdy enough to cut through metal and began sawing away at the tin. It didn’t seem like a very efficient way to access the food.

The sweet scent of peaches rose from the can, and I continued saw with enthusiasm when the knife slipped, piercing my flesh.

 Bright, red blood flowed from the wound and I stared at it utterly mesmerized by the mysterious and scared evidence of my mortal life.

Anahita would want to see this marvel, so I turned quickly, surprised to find my knees wobbling. Of course, I hadn’t yet fed, but this was more important.

I thought Esther would have left by now, but they were still side by side, reading poetry on the porch.

“What is she still doing here?” I asked.

I didn’t mean to be rude or inhospitable, but my brain felt dim and unconnected.

“We’re reading,” Anahita replied.

I sat down heavily next to Esther. A light flush reddened her cheeks, and when she looked up, she didn’t meet my eyes.

“Oh, hi. You left your book at the library yesterday and…”

Her eyes widened as she saw the blood dripping from between my fingers.

“W-what happened to your hand?”

“It’s blood,” I said.

Her voice rose several notes.

“I can see that!”

“The blood is very red,” said Anahita. “Fascinating.”

Esther’s gaze flickered between us, her eyes wide and wondering. Perhaps she hadn’t seen blood before either.

But then she stood up abruptly, her hands on her hips.

“Do you have any antiseptic cream, or bandages, or anything?”

“No,” I said, my voice uncertain.

Her eyes tightened with annoyance.

“Oh, for God’s sake! Come here!” and she grabbed my hand, holding it above my head, then dragged me into the kitchen.

She ran water into the sink and held my cut hand under the cold flow. It felt … nice. A sort of gentle numbing.

“What are you staring at?” she muttered, averting her eyes.

“You,” I replied.

Her blush spread from her cheeks to her neck and the upper part of her chest. It may have gone lower but I thought it prudent not to let my gaze drift further.

“Look, I think you’re going to need stitches. You should go to the ER.”

“ER?”

Frustration was etched on her face overlaying something else. Worry? Concern for me?

“Oh right. You just moved here. Okay, I’ll drive you, if you like. Do you have a towel or something I can wrap this in?”

“A towel? Yes, in my bedroom. I’ll fetch it.”

I stood up but my knees buckled and I slumped down again.

“That feels strange,” I said, my tongue thick and woolly.

“Oh my God! Wait here. I’ll find it.”

Blood continued to drip onto in a steady rhythm. Anahita had not yet taken her eyes off it, but I felt sleepy and my head was nodding.

From a distance, I heard Esther’s feet pounding down the wooden staircase.

“Here!” she said, thrusting the towel at me. “Wrap this around your hand.” Then she turned to Anahita. “I think I should take him to the emergency room, Mrs. Adams.”

“Is his injury an emergency?” Anahita asked, surprise in her voice.

“It’s pretty deep. It might need stitches.”

“Really?” said Anahita. “Fascinating.”

“Um, yeah.” She raised her eyebrows then looked at me. “We should go.”

“Thank you for returning my book,” I said, as she helped me towards her car. “Ana— Mom said she gave it to you.”

“I tried to say no. I mean, you can have it back…” she said, sounding embarrassed.

“She thinks you will appreciate it,” I yawned.

“I will. I do.”

There was a short pause.

“Thank you for helping me,” I said. “You are very kind.”

“Um, sure. Thank you.”

Esther drove through the town of Redrock. It was the first time I had seen the place that was to become my home. I watched the buildings fly by between half-closed lids as I dozed in the car. It was a pleasant experience. I had thought that the combustion engine was a crude invention, but I was warm and comfortable.

Even so…

Longing pierced my heart – I missed my wings, my beautiful, celestial, God-given wings.

“The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away,” I whispered.

“You’re not dying!” Esther squeaked.

I smiled sleepily.

“I think not, but it would be nice to go home again.”

She glanced across at me, then increased her speed until we were almost flying.

Almost.

“How d’you feel now?” she asked, her voice high and tight.

“It’s odd,” I said slowly. “Like nothing I have ever felt before.”

“Oh, God! I hope you haven’t damaged a nerve.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked.

“Say what?”

“The Lord’s name.”

“Oh. Habit, I guess. Sorry, if it offends you.” She paused. “I hope you don’t mind that your mom gave me that book. You can have it back.”

“No, that’s fine. There are lots of books.”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice doubtful, “but it’s a first edition.”

“Mmm.”

“I really like your mom,” she said shyly.

I smiled to hear Anahita described as my ‘mom’.

“Thank you.”

This time the pause was longer.

“Where’s your dad?”

I had just enough presence of mind to answer vaguely.

“Father is … out of town.”

At the hospital, I followed Esther, half-slumped against her, feeling more light-headed by the second.

A woman wearing loose cotton pajamas came towards us, and I soon understood that she was a physician. I was glad when Esther took charge.

“He’s cut his hand pretty badly and it’s been bleeding a lot. He’s kind of out of it, too.”

“Is he on anything? Meth? Coke? Weed?”

“I don’t think so. I really don’t know him that well. But, I mean, his family is pretty religious, so I don’t think so.”

“They can be the worst, honey,” the woman said tiredly.

“So, can you check him out?”

“Sure, it’s been a slow morning. Register him over there and I’ll take a look. This way, handsome,” and she led to me a small curtained area.

“Okay, let me take a look. Hmm, I’ll clean it up, but that’s going to need stitches.”

Suddenly, my skin felt ice cold, and I sensed the presence of great evil. My eyes widened, and I seemed to wake from the stupor into which my injury had sunk me.

I sensed Lamia before I saw her. I could feel the black aura emanating from her. It seemed as though some of my angelic powers had remained with me after all. Although, I had been told that some humans also possess the ability to sense the presence of evil.

In my mind’s eye, I saw her stop outside a room where a grieving family stood silently next to an elderly woman on a life support machine. There were two men, two women, and two teenagers of about my perceived age. As Lamia watched, they started to argue.

“Come on, Mom,” said one of the women. “Please try. We need you.”

One of the men shook his head.

“It’s time to let her go.”

“No! She has to fight,” the woman said, her voice too loud for the small room.

The man threw up his hands in frustration.

“It’s too late! You heard what the doctor said.”

“He said we had to prepare ourselves – not that we should give up!”

The second woman spoke.

“At this point, that means letting her go.”

“Shut up, Sylvia!” the woman snapped. “It’s nothing to do with you!”

“Mom!” hissed the girl.

“Don’t speak to her like that!” said the first man.

“Oh, don’t pretend like you care. You wouldn’t be here if Mom had made a Will. You’re just after her money!”

The woman’s voice rose to a shout, and the second man tried to calm her down.

“Leave it, Jean.”

Sylvia’s voice was nearly as shrill as her sister-in-law’s.

“What a horrible thing to say!”

But the woman was not to be mollified.

“You never cared about Mom!” she accused the man who appeared to be her brother. “But you were always her favorite. Everyone knew it!”

“She’s not even dead and you’re talking about her in the past tense,” he shouted back. “You’re sick!”

“Sick and tired of you, and your gold-digging bitch of a wife!”

I heard the sound of a slap followed by more shouts, and I sensed Lamia’s pleasure at her ability to sow discord, to reach the underbelly of people’s most shameful feelings.

As Lamia strolled along the corridor, flowers withered, and the landscape paintings on the walls seemed to shift and roil and darken.

As she approached me, I could clearly hear the conversation between two doctors in the next booth.

“Medicaid pays $9,500 for a gastric-band by-pass op. Privately I can charge $75,000. You do the math.”

“Good margins,” said the second doctor, “but what about set up costs?”

“There are plenty of people out there ready to back a good business plan. Stick with me, buddy, and we’ll both be rich.”

They laughed, then the second doctor spoke again.

“You think it’s a better option that setting up as a plastic surgeon?”

“Put it this way, if you make a mistake, no one is going to see it.”

“You got me sold!” and the two doctors walked away still laughing.

Lamia smiled at me, wrote something in her notebook, then winked. I felt the fury rise inside me, but I was helpless to intercede. I could only pray that the two doctors thought better of their money-making scheme, and the warring family forgave each other their cruel and hasty words.

But still, I wanted to do something. Perhaps you think I should encourage humans to turn the other cheek, but that does not mean suffering in silence as some seem to think, it in fact is the opposite: it challenges the bully and the coward; it says, you may strike me on my cheek but I shall fear you not; you may strike me on my other cheek, and still you will not bend my will to yours.

Lamia may have dealt me a double blow, but that only made me more determined to stop her.

And to win this foolish wager.

Esther returned from registering me with the hospital and immediately recognized Lamia.

“There’s that girl again. Are you sure you don’t know her?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t know her. Promise me you’ll stay away from her, Esther. She’s dangerous.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her eyebrows shooting Heaven-ward. “Like, crazy?”

“Just stay away from her,” I growled, my eyes blazing.

Lamia smiled, her eyes glinting with demonic pleasure – and she was staring at Esther.