Sweet Innocence

      Something about the air tasted different today. Normally, the miasma of car emissions, sewage, and urine lent the air a unique, if not pleasant, tang that was as familiar to me as my own name. Not today, though. Not that the other flavors weren’t present—this was New York, after all—but there was something new added to the mix. A sweetness, like a freshly cut strawberry on a summer afternoon. I breathed it in deeply, savoring it. It’d been a while since I’d smelled a soul so pure. If only I had more time to enjoy it before it was inevitably swept away by the current of human beings making their way up and down the crowded streets of the city.

           Except it wasn’t swept away at all. If anything, it only grew stronger. It wasn’t all that strange, I supposed; after all, there must be at least a dozen people in my immediate vicinity heading in the same direction as me. I pushed my suspicion aside and resigned myself to simply enjoy the good fortune for as long as it would last.

           Twelve blocks and half as many turns later, serendipity seemed the least likely possibility. The source of the scent was almost certainly following me. It didn’t make sense; humans with pure souls didn’t exactly make a habit of stalking other humans. Their souls wouldn’t remain innocent for long if they did. Arrogance would tell me I had nothing to fear, but experience said otherwise. It must be some kind of ruse. Had the Order finally noticed my delinquency? Or worse, was the Enemy working through this human to lure me into a false sense of security before striking? I couldn’t let my guard down for a moment.

           The crosswalk signal turned orange, halting the flow of busybodies going about their business around me. I decided against crossing the street or turning down the block and instead stood waiting for the signal to change. I’d give my pursuer a chance to strike while my back was turned, expecting complacency, before returning my vengeance sevenfold upon them.

           “Excuse me,” came a small voice from beside me.

And the trap snaps shut. Turning toward the voice, I was greeted by the sight of a human woman. It was obvious at once that this was my stalker; the smell of summer was on her breath, in her hair, seeping from her pores. Otherwise, she was unremarkable enough; there were no obvious weapons on her person, not even pepper spray. Part of me couldn’t help but be disappointed. Did her master really think such a person could possibly seduce me?

“I’m sorry, this is going to sound crazy,” she admitted, looking sheepish. “But are you an angel?”

A tight smile spread across my face. “Whatever would make you think such a ridiculous thing?”

“Well.” She shifted her weight awkwardly between her feet. “You have wings.”

That was the last answer I expected. “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I must be seeing things again. Have a nice day.”

The signal turned white, and the woman hastily crossed the street, leaving me frozen in place on the sidewalk as humanity bumped and jostled around me, none the wiser with whom they were colliding with. None but her, anyway.

“Hello, sorry,” I said, increasing my pace to catch up with her. “You can see my wings?”

She chuckled uncomfortably, not looking me in the eye. “I’m really sorry for bothering you; just forget I said anything.”

“Now, hold on a moment.” I stepped in front of her, blocking her advance. “What is your business with me? Did the Order send you?”

“What Order?”

“Come now,” I chided her, anger seeping into my tone. “I know I must’ve been gone a while, but I have every right to—”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She glanced above my head, where a pair of wings made of pure flame burned with holy radiance. “I just saw something strange again and thought I might finally get some answers. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’m just crazy, I guess.”

It was impossible, but at the same time, neither the Order nor the Enemy were ever this subtle; that was my job. Could it be that this woman was exactly as innocent as she appeared to be? My nose had never lied to me before.

I sighed. “You aren’t crazy, my dear. Forgive me for being so defensive. It’s not often that a human can see things for what they truly are.”

Her eyes widen. “You mean—?”

“Yes,” I replied with a smile. “I am an angel.”

“So, it’s all true, then. The stuff that happened in the Bible.”

“More or less,” I said. We were seated on a bench in Washington Square Park, down Fifth Avenue. The city continued to flow around us, but the sounds were muted by the rustle of the trees in the wind and the cooing of pigeons and other birds. It was peaceful here. The perfect place to reveal the Mysteries to a complete stranger.

“That’s crazy,” the woman, Mary, sighed. “I really shouldn’t have stopped going to church, huh? Do you think it’s too late for me to get into heaven?”

“I wouldn’t waste your time on attending mass if that’s what you’re after,” I replied. “Just continue on as you are, and the pearly gates will surely open to you when your time comes.”

Mary blushed. “Well, if you say so. I guess you would know, wouldn’t you?”

“Indeed.”

“So… you’re an angel.”

“That has been established, yes.”

“What are you doing here, then?” She gestured to encompass the city. “This place can hardly hold a candle to heaven.”

I shrugged. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing. I rather like it here. Everything feels more… genuine.”

“Is heaven really as stuffy as the priests make it sound?”

“Trust me,” I chuckled. “They wouldn’t know.”

Mary smiled but didn’t relent. “You didn’t answer my first question.”

“You’re right. I didn’t.” I paused, unsure how much to share. The hidden secrets of the afterlife were one thing; my mission was even more precious. “I’m searching for someone.”

“Why?” Mary blanched. “Are they dying? Are you the angel of death or something?”

“No,” I laughed. “Certainly not. No, I’m searching for someone I knew not too long ago. A strange human, much like yourself. One who could see me for what I truly am.”

“There are others like me?”

“Not many. You are in a very exclusive club, my dear. Though you’re hardly the first member with the name ‘Mary’.”

“You mean, like, the Mary,” she stammered, eyes as wide as saucers. “I’m like the Mary? Are—are you going to—”

“No, no.” Really. Humans couldn’t stop thinking about procreation for a moment, could they? “I have no interest in such carnal endeavors. I simply… ah. Well. I merely wish to speak to this person again.”

Mary perked up. “Maybe I could help! Does she live around here?”

“She did, last I knew. Her name is Donna Keller.”

“Keller, Keller,” Mary repeated, deep in thought. “I don’t think I know any Kellers.”

I’d have been more shocked to learn that she happened to know Donna than I’d been to learn she could see the divine. “Unfortunate, but hardly unexpected.”

“Hang on, let me search for her online.” Mary whipped a small black device from her pocket and began typing away on it. I’d noticed humans start to carry around such contraptions, though seeing how quickly they fell into obsession with their shiny new toys, I’d never bothered to think twice about them. Could such a little thing really find Donna?

“Is this her?” Mary asked, handing me the device. The image of an old woman with round glasses smiled up at me from the screen.

“No, surely not.” I handed the device back. “Donna is about your age. This woman is too old.”

Mary sighed, scrolling down the screen rapidly. “I don’t see a single young woman named Donna in the entire Tri-State Area. Maybe she moved?”

She could tell so quickly? Human technology really had come a long way since Eden. “I doubt it. Donna would sooner cut off her own hand than leave this city.”

“I like her already,” Mary remarked, beaming. “Have you tried hiring a private investigator? Maybe she just doesn’t like to be online.”

I understood some of those words. Maybe this woman wouldn’t be as helpful as I’d hoped. “I’ve been frequenting our usual haunts. There’s been no sign of her. Perhaps I simply need to look harder, and not allow myself to become distracted.”

“You’ve just been wandering around looking for her?” Mary frowned. “For how long?”

“Not long enough, apparently.” I rose from the bench, eager to resume my search. “If you’ll excuse me, my dear, I’m afraid I must be going.”

Mary grabbed my hand, halting my escape. I could easily break her grip, of course. But the touch startled me. No one had touched me since… I could hardly remember when. There was desperation in her movement, pain in her eyes. She reminded me so much of Donna in that moment, though she couldn’t be more different. Donna’s scent was also pleasant, but her floral scent was tinged with decay, the rot of dying flowers at the end of spring. It was a sad scent, the smell of a complicated, troubled soul. Perhaps Mary’s soul would wither the way Donna’s had, eventually. I hoped that it wouldn’t, for her sake.

The woman’s voice snapped me from my musings. “How long has it been since you’ve seen Donna?”

The question gave me pause. “I’m not sure. I was gone for some time.”

“Why?”

“Work,” I replied, reluctant to explain further. “I told her I would come back as soon as I could. I promised her.”

“How long ago?”

“I tire of being asked this question.”

“Then answer it.” The steel in Mary’s voice surprised me. Her soul was pure, yes, but not without teeth.

“I last saw her the year of the uprising.”

“Which one? George Floyd? Occupy?”

“I don’t know what it’s called,” I growled. “It was at the Stonewall Inn, a few blocks from here. We used to meet there every now and then.”

The pain in Mary’s expression grew deeper. “She was at Stonewall?”

“What of it?”

“That was over fifty years ago.”

Fifty years? “You lie,” I hissed, snatching my hand away. “That’s impossible. I returned straight away. It couldn’t have been more than ten, fifteen years.”

Instead of answering, Mary went back to typing away on her handheld device. My lip curled with disgust. Donna wouldn’t have patience for such devices, if they’d existed when I knew her. She was at her best on stage, dazzling the crowd with her dancing and singing. If even a single human had been looking down at some machine like that, she would’ve pranced over to their table and smacked them upside the head. It was that attitude that drew me to her, a confidence I had never seen in anyone since, within the Order or here on Earth.

“I think I found her.” Again, Mary drew me back to the present like the crack of a whip. She offered me her hand. “Come on.”

I peered cautiously at the proffered appendage. “Where?”

“The Bronx,” she explained. “We have a ferry to catch.”

           We arrived on Hart Island as night fell. Manhattan’s skyline glowed in the distance with more colors than a rainbow, and the Bronx, too, was lit as bright as day. It seemed that this solitary isle in the Long Island Sound was the only place in all of New York where one could experience the true darkness of night. It was no wonder that I’d never thought to look here for Donna, she who shone brighter than any light.

           “What is this place?” I growled as we passed through the wrought iron gate into a mostly empty field. “You said Donna wasn’t on your little box device. How can you be so sure she’s here of all places?”

           “Trust me,” Mary said softly. “We’re almost there.”

           There turned out to be a small stone jutting from the ground halfway down the field. It was unassuming at first glance, roughly cut from a slab of granite and unadorned with anything but a name. I frowned, half-expecting Donna to leap out from behind the stone to startle me.

           “You better have a good reason for dragging me out here,” I warned Mary, when a cursory examination proved that Donna was not hiding behind the rock. “I don’t appreciate having my time wasted by mortals.”

           Mary sighed. “Don’t you get it? Donna’s right here.”

           Perhaps the girl was crazy after all. “What are you—”

           The name on the stone was illuminated by my fiery wings. Donald Keller.

           My eyes widened in shock. “No.”

           “I’m sorry,” Mary whispered, head bowed with respect.

           “That’s impossible,” I spat, gripping the stone with both hands as if my anger would change the damning words. “No. I’d know if she died! I’d know! She’d be with me! She’d be with me!”

           “Not if she went to heaven.”

I whirled on Mary, eyes burning with rage. “You dare speak to me as if you know anything? You know nothing, mortal! Nothing!”

Pity joined the tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Lucifer. She’s gone.”

I fell to my knees in the grass before the gravestone. There was no trace of Donna’s scent; of course there wouldn’t be. She’d died decades ago, her soul moved on past the pearly gates. The bartender at Stonewall had told me so, long ago. I pressed my head against the stone as red-hot tears traced their way down my cheeks. I hadn’t believed him; rather, I’d chosen not to believe him. But here she was, after all this time, tossed in a pit far away from the city she loved by an uncaring world.

“I’m sorry, Donna,” I whispered through sobs. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Mary rested her hand on my shoulder, and I allowed the touch. Her scent was almost nauseatingly sweet, but it was what I needed. Rather, it was as close to what I needed as I would ever get, in this world or another.

“You saw each other for who you really were,” Mary said quietly. “And loved each other despite it. It’s a beautiful thing.”

“Despite it?” I barked out a sharp laugh and rose to my feet, wiping away the tears. “My dear. You don’t know the first thing about love, do you?”

“What do you mean?”

I traced my fingers along the name on the gravestone. They glowed the same fiery orange as my wings. “True love doesn’t have any standards or stipulations. It’s a burning need, one that can’t ever be fully quenched.”

Mary frowned. “That sounds more like an obsession.”

I flashed Mary a wolflike grin and lifted my hand from the gravestone. It now read Donna Keller. “Oh, sweet innocence.”

The End