Some Angels Fall

By Gene Lass

Tyler died and went to Heaven. Following a settling-in period of milling around, visiting with long-lost relatives and meeting celebrities and historical figures, he began the process of receiving divine knowledge and achieving tasks. After an indeterminate amount of time, as time flows differently in Paradise, he became a lesser angel, and was awarded his wings. With angel status came increased ability to tour the Sacred Realm and to peer beyond, something he started to do with regularity, to gain greater understanding of the wonder and fullness of Creation.

            One day, he went for a walk to an area of Heaven where the barrier between the realms was thinner. An aera he learned was, in the early period of Creation, after God created the Heavens, but before he created the Earth, the site of the Great Banishment – the purging of the rebellious angels after the war in Heaven. From that point, God cast Lucifer and his cohorts down, and it was from there, millennia later, that Tyler was able to stand and peer into Hell.

            He started going to that area regularly, when he wasn’t performing angelic duties or spending time with family. He looked into Hell, awed by the enormity of suffering. The teeming numbers of people burning, always burning, and screaming endlessly.

            He began searching for anyone recognizable, and sometimes found some. People one would expect – mass murderers and madmen. But mostly he just saw people, their faces and bodies bubbling and charring but never burning away.

            One day, he went to look into Hell, and as he made the walk, he was accompanied by his uncle, Felix. In life, Tyler never thought of Felix as very angelic. He was a devoted husband and father, a writer and avid reader who had partially inspired Tyler to be a writer, and, as a member of the family, he was a beloved presence at family gatherings, always ready with a story or joke, typically while holding a mug or can of beer. It was only in the afterlife that Tyler realized he never saw Felix lose his temper, never heard him swear, and never knew him to miss a Sunday or holiday church service until the day he died.

            Walking across a vast, flower-dotted field together, one Tyler had started to think of as the Elysian Fields, Felix kept pace with him, finally nudging Tyler with his elbow.

            “You know, we could fly, not walk. It’s what wings are for,” he said.

            “I know,” Tyler said. “I like to walk. I like the air over here, and the feel of the grass and flowers as we walk.”

            “Me, too,” Felix said. He paused, then leaned in conspiratorially. “You know we don’t need to breathe, right? Totally optional. It does nothing.”

            Tyler laughed. “Yeah, I figured that out. I stopped for a while then did it out of reflex.”

            “Same here. It’s disturbing as hell. It doesn’t hurt. It’s just too weird.”

            Tyler nodded. “I don’t breathe in space. That makes sense. But here, or on Earth, I’m breathing.”

            “Yep.”

            They walked a bit longer, then Tyler sighed, stretched his wings, and flapped, launching himself across the field. He landed near the edge of the field, at the foot of a mountain, in the side of which there was a cave. Felix landed next to him.

            “I thought he were walking,” he said.

            “We were,” Tyler said. “But once you got the idea in my head, walking wasn’t fun anymore, so here we are.”

            They didn’t have to go in the cave, merely stand in front and peer inside, and their angelic senses could show them anything they wanted to see. They stood for a while, looking, until Felix asked:

            “You come here a lot?”

            “Yeah, pretty often.”

            “Have you seen The Driver yet?”

            Tyler glanced at Felix, then looked back into the cave.

            “Who’s The Driver?”

            “Oh, you’ll see him if you watch long enough. I’m surprised you haven’t seen him already. The driver died a while back. He was met at the Gates of Heaven by Jesus, and Jesus said,

            ‘I have good news and bad news.

            ‘Bad news. You’re going to Hell. In life, you were a bad driver. So bad, you’re going to Hell for all the misery you caused others in life. You drove slow in the left lane not because you were afraid to go fast but because you were on a crusade to slow down others, even if they were driving at or near the speed limit. You drove even slower in the right lane. In your time you caused immeasurable amounts of stress to others, affecting their health as well as their lives. People soiled themselves. People missed doctor’s appointments they needed to make, had babies in the car, lost their jobs, missed plane flights and significant events, all because of you, and your self-importance and self-indulgence. This worsened when you got a cell phone. You drove even slower due to texting while driving, which also made you erratic and dangerous. People lost their lives because of you.

‘Good News: As a result, you will spend eternity driving around the perimeter of Hell, with a cell phone forever affixed to your hand, inside of a burning Prius.’

“The Driver, shocked, asked Jesus, ‘How is that good?’, and Jesus told him

‘You’ll be in view of the souls in Purgatory. They don’t get much in the way of happiness or entertainment, but every time you pass by, it will bring them great joy.’”

            Tyler looked at his uncle and blinked. Several moments passed. Then he said, “You made that up, didn’t you?”

            Felix smiled but didn’t turn his head. Looking at Tyler from the corner of his eye, he said, “Did I? Maybe. You’ll see.”

            Tyler shook his head and resumed looking through the cave and into The Pit. After a time, he froze, then whispered:

            “Oh no.”

            Felix looked at him. “What’s wrong?”

            “I know her.”

            Tyler pointed into Hell, where he saw a young woman – pale, full-figured, with curly brown hair, high cheekbones, full lips. Tears streamed from her eyes, then sizzled and steamed on her face. While her eyes were closed tight, Tyler knew their color was a beautiful, deep brown.

            Felix looked toward where Tyler pointed, then looked back at Tyler and nodded.

            “It’s inevitable. It’s why I don’t come here anymore. Most angels do, especially when we’re new. You find Hitler and Nero and Colonel Tom Parker – all the bad guys you expect to see, then maybe an old boss or neighbor and you get that bit of schadenfreude not befitting an angel, which shows we’re still human.” He paused a moment and said, “For future reference, as your uncle and a fellow angel with a few more years on his wings, I’d suggest you cultivate that feeling as a sense of justice, rather than relishing the suffering of those whom you believe deserve it. To the point, though, sooner or later, you’ll find someone you know, and you wish they weren’t there. But they are, and there’s nothing you can do about it. So, the best thing to do is mourn them, and stop looking.”

            Tyler looked at his uncle in horror, tears filling his eyes. Felix put a hand on his shoulder, squeezed, and said, “Come on,” then they took to the skies of Heaven once more.

            Tyler tried to take his uncle’s advice, tried throwing himself into his duties as an angel and eternal life in Paradise, but he found himself thinking of her again and again. Of Melody.

            They had worked together once, early in their adult lives. They became friends, bonding over their love of the written word. Reading and writing were everything. But for Tyler, the practice was clinical, the only emotions he conveyed or alluded to in his writing were rage, horror, fear. There was little room for love, and no direct mention of it, as he delivered stories based on plot and poetry based on tragic irony, outrage, and bitter remorse.

            Melody appreciated his writing and understood the feelings he brought up only in the lengthy discussions they had together and emails they sent when they were apart. Then, gradually, she prodded him to unlock other aspects of himself in his writing, addressing things he previously hadn’t admitted to himself, much less put on paper. Things that, in contrast, she had long since embraced in her own life, either accepting or celebrating them.

            “You’re so Catholic,” she told him once. “Always ready to be a martyr, always suffering. Denying yourself what makes you happy. You don’t need to be miserable. Be happy.”

            “Happiness is not a right,” he replied. “The pursuit of it is. I’d rather be right than happy at someone else’s expense. It would be hollow.”

            And that was their stalemate. Melody, smoking her Camels or Marlboros during the day, weed at night and on weekends, jokingly referred to herself as “a proud sinner,” who was committed to the idea of showing Tyler how to enjoy life, while Tyler, decrying all forms of excess and hedonism, wasn’t swayed in his behavior, but his writing changed.

            Melody had opened his heart, and with it, the floodgates of love, anger, sorrow, hope, in all forms, all extremes, and she showed him to write in a way that not only made people think, which he could already do, but to feel.

            Life went on for both of them according to its own plan and schedule, and they lost touch, but Tyler continued to be guided by Melody’s advice, at least the memory of it, for the rest of his life. Which was why he couldn’t accept the fact that he was in Heaven while she was in Hell. She was vital to what became his artistic career, as well as his understanding of his own beliefs. In his view, it was possible that he would not have done what was right if she hadn’t been so good at showing him what was wrong.

            And so, he returned to cave. He looked in and saw Melody, still screaming and burning, as she would for all eternity.

            Without knowing what would happen, he stretched his wings and flapped, launching himself into the cave. Another flap took him through the dark and into the bright, fiery light and swirling smoke of Hell. The smoke stung his eyes and burned his throat, making him immediately glad he didn’t have to breathe. Staying focused on Melody, his angelic eyes were as keen as those of an eagle, allowing him to flap and steer his way toward her despite the flames and the deafening screams of untold millions.

            Behind the screams, he was dimply aware of a consistent laughter, coming not from any one source but seemingly from Hell itself, something that chilled him regardless of the enveloping heat.

            He swept in, landing in front of Melody, who saw him despite the streaming tears searing her eyes. Immune to the flames, Tyler wrapped his wings around Melody so that, for the first moment in an unknowably long time, she wasn’t burning. He smiled and wrapped his arms around her. Where he touched her, she was cooled and soothed.

            She pulled back. “Ty?” she said.

            Tyler nodded faintly.

            “Hello.”

            She touched the inside of his wings.

            “You’re an angel?”

            He laughed and nodded again. “Recent recruit.”

            “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” she said. “I always said you were a saint.”

            “Not really,” he said. “But I guess I was good enough.”

            She looked down “Shit!” she said, covering herself with her hands. “I’m naked!”

            Tyler laughed. “I honestly hadn’t noticed. But it looks like everyone here is, for the most part.” He gestured at himself. “Up there we have robes. Standard angel uniform. Regular people wear what they want, within reason.” He smiled again.

            “Melody, I want you to come with me. Out of here.”

            She flinched. “What? I can’t Ty! Hell is forever! You’re a visitor. We’re all damned. We don’t get to leave. As soon as you leave me, I’ll burn again.”

            Tyler gripped her hands in his. “I know that, and I’m not questioning God’s judgment on sending you here. However, I know the goodness in you, and I know a bit about salvation now. I believe there’s a way.”

            Her eyes grew wide. “How?”

            “Repent, earnestly and honestly. Anyone here could say, ‘I’m sorry’ just because they don’t want to burn anymore. But to get out, honestly look in your heart and be sorry for the sins you committed, knowing why they were wrong, and asking for forgiveness. If you do that, I’m confident I can get you out of here.”

            “You’re sure?”

            “I am,” Tyler said. “Can you try?”

            Melody nodded and closed her eyes. After a moment she opened them.

“I know why I’m here,” she said. “We’re told when we arrive. That part is easy. I want to be forgiven. I know what I’ve done wrong, and why it was wrong. I knew before I died. I just thought coming here was inevitable, immutable. Maybe not.”

Tyler took both her hands in his again.

“Let’s go.”

She put her arms around him and he flapped his wings. They rose through the skies of Hell, above the flames but not the smoke. Touching down at the mouth of the cave,, Melody was able to glimpse the fields of Heaven on the other side of the cave. She looked back at Hell, tugged on Tyler’s sleeve, and said, “Ty.”

He looked at her. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She looked down into The Pit, then at Tyler again.

“Put me back,” she said.

Tyler flinched, then drew closer and grasped her arms gently.

“Mel, it’s okay. The damned damn themselves by embracing their sin, not forgiveness. Let it go. You’re free.”

She shook her head. “that’s not it. It’s not me. It’s them.”

She looked over her shoulder into Hell. Her rears flowed harder and her lips started quivering.

Tyler gripped her harder, pleading. “Mel, you’re not like them. You’re no rapist or killer. You made mistakes, did things. There are bad people down there.” He spun her around to face him. “Come with me!”

She shook her head and pulled away. “You don’t get it! I don’t want to burn. And it doesn’t matter what they did. I don’t want anyone to burn. If they’re going to scream, I’ll scream with them. In protest.” She looked in his eyes.

“Put me back.”

Tyler said nothing. He looked at her in horror.

“Put me back, Ty.”

Tyler wrapped his arms around her, flapped his wings, and carried her back to the spot where she had burned for so long, where she would continue to burn. He landed, and wrapped his wings around her again.

“If we do this, it’s forever. You can be free.”

“I know,” she said. “Goodbye, Tyler.”

She took one of his hands in both of hers.

“I’ll be here forever. But I won’t be rejecting who I am or what I did. And I’ll know that someone wonderful loved me enough to come get me. Go.”

She pulled away from him, and as Tyler launched himself into the burning sky, he heard her screams join once more with those of the millions around her, rising into a continual wail.

He flew back to the cave without looking back, flew through the darkness inside, and stepped out onto the cool, soft grass of Heaven, where Felix stood waiting.

“Well, nephew,” he said. “What did you learn?”

“That you were right,” Tyler said. “Looking in there doesn’t do any good. It just hurts.”

Felix put a hand on Tyler’s shoulder.

“I’m proud of you for trying. I’m told you were the first angel in history to try. You’re being asked to appear before The Sacred Presence. That’s typically a good thing. You should go.”

At the edge of Hell, The Driver completed his 8,573rd lap of Hell, screaming as he burned.