Ralph, Angel of Death

Ralph, Angel of Death

     “I swear it was raining stardust. Everything was magical from the moment I first saw her. It was at the end of the harvest dance and I was shipping out to Korea the next day. This would be a goodbye dance for many of my buddies and me. She was so beautiful, and I didn’t think I’d have a chance with her. I asked her to dance and she said yes. I took her in my arms and we danced under the stars of a prairie night sky. I remember the band played, “Because of You”, and the singer sounded just like Tony Bennett. She took my breath away. I looked down at her and there was stardust sparkling on her eyelashes.”

     The old man grew quiet, lost in his memories, then felt a hand on his shoulder, “That’s a lovely story Tom, but it’s time.”

     “Not yet Ralph. Please.”

     “Tom, my name is Raphael.”

     “Raphael, Ralph, sorry, I get things mixed up sometimes.” He looked up, trying not to smile, “You kinda look more like a Ralph.”

     He turned his gaze back to the woman in the hospital bed, his thumb gently caressing her hand held in his. She didn’t open her eyes, but he heard her softly ask, 

     “Who are you talking to dear?”

     The old man smiled, happy to hear her voice, 

     “This is Raphael. He’s here to help us. Raphael, this is my wife Joan.” He turned in his chair as he spoke, not letting go of his wife’s hand. There was no one in the room. “Now where did he go? He was just here.”

     She laughed, “Are you seeing things again?”

    “Probably.” He laughed back.

    The night nurse quietly pushed the door open and looked in. She had heard Tom talking and laughing but wasn’t concerned. After many years as a hospice nurse, she understood how important it was for families, especially spouses, to be able to say goodbye. She hoped that on some level his voice was getting through to his wife, but it was doubtful. Tom and Joan had been married for seventy-five years and the love in his eyes when he looked at her made her heart break. She walked over and gently placed a hand on Joan’s forehead, then straightened the covers around her still body. Glancing out of the window, seeing the darkening sky, she turned to Tom and said,

     “We’re supposed to get our first winter storm tonight.” When he didn’t reply, she gently said, “You really should get some sleep, Mr. Bowman.”

     “I wouldn’t be able to sleep without her beside me, so I may as well just stay here. I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry.”

     She smiled and looked back at them as she opened the door to leave, knowing she was already forgotten.

     When she had gone, Tom leaned over and kissed his wife’s hand, letting his lips linger on her parchment-thin skin. He thought he felt her hand move, and then she softly spoke.

     “I heard what you said before. It wasn’t stardust on my eyelashes. It was tears.”

     He smiled, “I like to think it was stardust.”

     He was sure there was a ghost of a smile playing on her face that somehow tumbled into her voice when she talked to him.

      “That’s the dreamy poet in you, seeing everything lyrically. Thank goodness one of us was practical all these years. My tears were both of joy and sadness. A joy that I had met you, and sadness because you were going away so soon.”

     He smiled, “But I came back to you, my darling.” 

     He felt a hand again on his shoulder and tried to shrug it off.

     “I said not now Ralph.” He paused when he heard an exasperated sigh behind him. “Please. I can’t let her go. Look, I was in customer service my whole working life and I always made sure my customers were looked after. I’m asking for a bit more time is all. You’re the Angel of Death for god’s sake. Talk to your boss and see what you can do.”

     Another sigh, “It doesn’t work like that Tom. You have to say goodbye.”

     Tom put his fingers to his forehead, lightly drumming them, trying to conjure up some kind of response or compromise.  A thought occurred to him and he asked,

     “How come it’s only me who can see or hear you?  Why can’t Joan know you’re here too?”

      He replied, “Because it’s not quite her time.” 

     Tom raised his head and asked, “Then why are you here? The doctor said it wouldn’t be long now.” There was no response from Raphael, and suddenly Tom felt a chill. “Are you here for me? Is it my time?” Still silence from Raphael.  “Because if you are, you’re going to have to wait. I’m not leaving her.” He felt his heart constrict. He had loved this woman for most of his life and he knew the depth of her love for him. He closed his eyes and Raphael gently spoke what Tom already knew. 

     “She’s hanging on for you.”

     Tom’s shoulders slumped and a great tiredness spread through his body. His tears fell on her hand and she opened her eyes and looked past him, with a strength and calmness that he hadn’t seen in a while. She shifted her gaze to Tom and said,

     “You have to listen to Ralph, my sweet man. He’s right, it’s time.”

     “You can see him?” he asked, and then said, “ I’m not going to leave you.”

     “It’s going to be alright. We’ll always be together. Think of it as our next great adventure. Ralph, a favour, please. Do you think we could have one last dance under the stars?”

     “You know my name is Raphael,” he was starting to sound peevish, “ and have you noticed there’s a storm outside?”

     Joan smiled at him, an amused yet determined spark in her eyes. 

     “Oh, I think you would be able to do something about that Raphael. You’re just not any old angel, you’re the Angel of Death. I promise you, as soon as Tom goes, I’ll be right there too.”

     Tom looked at Raphael. He knew Joan’s strength and determination would be no match for anyone, including, a heavenly high-ranking messenger.  Raphael looked at both of them and then cast a beseeching look upwards, his arms spread wide. A soft rumble slowly grew into a symphony of sound and they were all encased in swirling clouds.  When the cloud disappeared, Tom and Joan found themselves standing in the garden outside of their hospital window. Raphael was gone. Tom stepped closer to Joan and gathered her in his arms, and just like in the movies, their song, “Because of You”, was playing softly in the background. 

     “It feels so good to be able to hold you like this again and dance under the stars. He bowed his head to hers and whispered, “I love you.”

     She smiled, raising her face to his, seeing not an old man, but the boy of so long ago. The boy who captured her heart and kept his promise to come back safely to her. The boy who grew into the man who loved her and watched her blossom into the woman she became because of him, because of his love.

     “I’m so tired Tom. Let’s sit for a bit on the bench.”   

     He gently steadied her as they sat down and they both looked up in wonderment as sparkles gently rained down on them. Joan whispered,

     “Oh, my darling look. It’s stardust.”

                                                                               ***

     A night security officer was doing his rounds when he came across what at first looked like a garden sculpture. He shook his head, not believing what he was seeing. An old couple was sitting on a bench, covered in a light sprinkling of snow. The woman was hunched over, cradling a man in her arms. As he approached them, he noticed a light seemingly emanating from their eyes, but as he got closer, he saw that their eyes were closed. It was light reflecting on ice crystals on their eyelashes. He hurried back inside to call for help, passing people sitting in the lobby, listening to a news report on the TV.

    “Law enforcement agencies across the country are puzzled and concerned by the number of strange deaths, especially among seniors, over the past several years. Bodies have been found in odd and sometimes bizarre circumstances. Stay tuned to CHCH breaking news at eleven for more on this developing strange story.”