Threads

A mysterious young man meets a waitress in restaurant. What happens there will change their lives forever.

 

 

Threads

 

by Brandon J. Perkins

Brian leaned against his old, beat-up car, watching people walk past on the wet streets. A young woman ran past him, her breath leaving clouds of mist in the rainy air. It would have made a beautiful picture. Random images of her life entered his head. She was hurrying to see her boyfriend, who had just gotten back from Omaha. She liked fajitas, with extra cheese.

Across the street, an old man sat, smoking a cigarette, staring down at the pavement, fondly remembering his deceased wife. Her name was Carol. He was thinking of the time they had danced in the rain. He had walked out on the porch to see his young wife wearing a white t-shirt that clung to her in the rain. Nine months later, their son was born.

As Brian watched, he reflected on humanity. A person's life was like a thread, by itself, simply thread, but woven together, intertwining with the other threads, it became part of a giant tapestry. Some threads were longer than others, some shorter, but every thread important. Without that one thread, the tapestry could not be whole, could not be beautiful. A man with a goatee and spiky hair walked by. He was a hopeless romantic. He liked to sneak looks at people’s diaries, not to dig up any secrets, but to know what they were thinking, what made them tick. He hated cheese on his fajitas.

Brian liked him immediately. They could get into some great philosophical discussions, Brian thought. However, he didn't have time. He had business to attend to. Unfortunately. He glanced down at his watch. 11:02. He had about twenty minutes. Brian stood, and headed for a nearby hole in the wall restaurant. He sat down and ordered a cup of coffee, then watched as the cream swirled into the coffee as he poured it in, before sinking into the brown darkness. A waitress, Ashlee, came over to him, and asked for his order.

"I'm fine," he said. She started to leave, then looked at him. A handsome, blond-haired young man, dressed in white, staring into his coffee.

"You don't look fine," she said, "you look sort of upset."

"I'm ok," Brian said. "You sure?" she said.

"No," Brian replied, flashing her a half-smile.

"I knew it!" she exclaimed, "people always stare into their coffee like that when they're upset. Tell ya what. My shift ends in a couple minutes. I'll come over afterwards, and chat."

"That'd be great, thank you," Brian said. Ashlee smiled at him.

At 11:16 Ashlee sat down across from him.

"So what's up?" she said. Brian sat quietly.

"I'm not sure how to explain it," he said.

"I see. So, you just wanna talk?"

"Yeah."

"Ok, what about?"

"How about philosophy?" Brian said.

"Sure, that'd be cool."

"Do you believe in original thought?" Brian asked.

"Ah, no," Ashlee said, "I think every ideas been thought of already."

"Not me," Brian replied, "Of course every idea has been thought of. At least, until someone comes up with a new one. Think about it. An idea can’t be an idea without someone thinking of it. Sort of a Catch-22. But, putting that aside, people aren't like a hive intellect. What's true for one of us, is not true for all of us. Every idea is new to you as an individual."

"Ooh, good point," Ashlee said, chuckling, "I think you just converted me. What religion are you, by the way?"

"Non-denominational," Brian replied.

"Do you believe in God?" Ashlee asked. Brian grew quiet.

"Yes," he finally replied, almost in a whisper.

"Is that what's this is about?" Ashlee said.

"You having a crisis of faith?"

"I guess you could say that."

"How so?"

"Well, I guess it's the basic reason. Why does He let bad things happen?" Ashlee sat back, thoughtfully.

"Well, the truth is, I don’t know if there is a God out there or not. But if there is, I don't think that He intentionally causes pain and suffering. I believe He loves His children. I think that he gives us free will, so therefore, he can't stop bad things from happening, because that would be taking our free will away from us. He can only make it easier to bear."

"That's a good point," Brian replied, "But I still don't know. Perhaps I've just seen too much of it." Ashlee put a hand on his shoulder, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Things will look up," she said. Brian simply sighed.

"What are you?" Ashlee finally said. He looked up at her, a little shocked.

"What do you mean?" he said.

"There's something about you," she said, "something I can't define, but it's almost overwhelming. You aren't what you seem."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Brian said.

"Try me."

"Very well." Brian leaned back against the chair. "I'm an angel." Ashlee looked at him.

"You're kidding." Brian looked at her.

"Ok," Ashlee said, "I'm gonna leave now. You don't have to tell me, if you don't want, but don't lie." she started to stand. Brian snapped his fingers, and Ashlee stared around in shock. Everything but her and Brian, had stopped moving. Rain hung frozen in the air. A pedestrian jumping over a puddle was suspended in mid air.

"I... I guess you are an angel," she said finally.

"Yep, guess I am," he replied.

"So, how the hell is a messenger of God having a crisis of faith?"

"I hate what I must do for God. I can't take the pain of it."

"Are you an angel of death?" Ashlee asked, wide-eyed. Brian laughed bitterly.

"I wish that’s what I was. No, my dear, I'm much, much worse than that. I'm an abomination."

"Why are you in such pain right now?" Ashlee said. Brian looked up at her.

"Because," he said softly, "it makes me sad to think that someone so wonderful as yourself, has to die."

"What?" Ashlee said, shocked. "When?"

"When I snap my fingers again, everything will start back up. It is then that you will die."

"No!" Ashlee shrieked, "Goddammit, no!" Tears began to crest her eyes.

"How could you?"

"I have to!" Brian shouted back. "Do you understand why I hate this, why I hate myself, why I might even hate God?"

"You don't have to!" Ashlee said desperately, "You don't have to do it!"

"Yes I do!" Brian screamed, "I have no choice. I have no free will like you do! Don't you see? I am His faithful servant, and yet I am damned for all time! I love humanity so much, yet I am forced to destroy them! It's a fate worse than death, to spend eternity destroying what you love!" Ashlee began to cry.

"No," Brian said softly taking her in his arms, and holding her tightly. "No, don't cry. You'll break my heart."

"I'm going to die, Brian," Ashlee whispered tearfully into his shoulder. Brian gently stroked her hair.

"Shh," he cooed gently into her ear. Finally, Ashlee stopped crying, unable to cry anymore. She looked up into Brian's gentle eyes. She straightened up, an brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm not going to go scared," she said, "I'm going to face it head on." Brian smiled at her.

"You are truly a beautiful person," he whispered. Ashlee simply smiled, a Mona Lisa smile, through her tears.

"It was an honor to meet you, Ashlee. I'll never forget you."

"The feeling's mutual," Ashlee said, "though I wish the circumstances had been different." Brian chuckled softly.

"Yes, me too."

"Let's do this," she said, looking him in the eyes. There was a silence for a moment, that seemed to last an eternity. Then Brian snapped his fingers. Ashlee tilted her head heavenward.

 

Then the bomb exploded.

Brian stood, looking down at the smoldering wreckage of six city blocks. He sank to his knees. Then Pyriel, the Angel of Genocide put his head in his hands, and began to cry.

An image of Ashlee appeared in his head. He loves His children. He can’t stop bad things from happening, only make them easier to bear. Her words echoed in his head.

"He loves His children," he said to himself. Then he rose from the ashes.

"Thank you, Ashlee," he said softly. Then he closed his eyes and vanished.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The End