Knocking on Helen’s Door by Eve Langlais

12

Julio offeredto show her proof that angels consorted with humans to make babies. Surely it was a lie. A mistake.

Although she no longer doubted that some angels sinned and fornicated. She’d seen Michelina disobeying and had been on Earth long enough to realize sex was a popular thing to do.

But his claim about cherubs being made the same way as animals?

Devastating if true because it would mean yet another lie in a chain of them. Such as the one claiming Earth was a dirty, sinful place and Heaven the good. For all that she’d had to learn and overcome culture wise, the last few days had been the most interesting of her life.

The sights. The sounds. The people.

She’d met more than a few because Bambi insisted on dragging her around when she showed up at random times during the day. She’d ordered Helen to stop watching television—the most annoying demand coming right in the middle of a show called The Witcher where a fellow with white hair showed off his impressive sword skills. Helen couldn’t have said why she found it riveting, yet there was something about the strong and dexterous man that drew her eye.

She’d looked away when the violence and carnal stuff happened on the screen. At least she did the first day. By the second, she had learned to use the ten-seconds back button, rewinding the things that fascinated or demanded more study.

It appeared humanity didn’t just indulge in fornication; they reveled in it. Enjoyed sex. Watching it on screen left her feeling…odd. Tingly. Ashamed. It also had her thinking of Julio and feeling even more tingly.

What did it mean? She didn’t dare ask even as Bambi seemed determined to teach.

Bambi said she couldn’t learn everything by staying inside watching television. She made Helen wear pants—shocking!—and brought her into the world to explore. She introduced Helen to a chip truck, a vendor on the street who, for the tap of card, would provide flavorful sustenance. A bacon poutine, Bambi called it.

One bite and Helen inhaled the rest. She’d never imagined food could taste so incredible. And she didn’t see the sin in it. No one got hurt. On the contrary, everyone was pleased by the transaction.

Poutine was only the start of the flavors she tested. In a cold box, called a fridge, there were jars and containers of food with tastes so varied she couldn’t stop trying them and ended up on the floor, stomach distended, groaning. Her gluttony was punished by her hugging something cold and hard. Bambi blasphemed and called it the porcelain god.

Whatever it was, she donated copious amounts of puke to it. But worse was what came out of her bottom.

It turned out on Earth it wasn’t just the animals who defecated.

As she lay groaning in bed, vowing to never eat again, she wished she’d never left heaven.

By the time she woke the next morning, she felt better, especially once she looked outside. No blue skies today. Water fell instead.

Rain.

Helen stood on the balcony, head tilted back, feeling it hit her skin in cold droplets. A day without sunshine, how refreshing. It made her curious about snow and storms and so much more.

“Are you done getting wet?” Bambi had hollered from inside. “Because I’ve got to leave, but before I do, I want to show you how to use the internet.”

She taught Helen the basics of a mighty machine called the internet. It was so easy to get information. All Helen had to do was say, “Okay bitch-tits, find me—” fill in the blank. A little black box by the television would then reply and show the result on the screen. The thing called internet acted like a giant repository of information, smart enough to pull up anything Helen asked—which turned out to be a copious amount about angels.

It placed images of angels with big fluffy wings, robes, and haloes on the television for her to ogle.

“How is this possible?” she muttered. Humans weren’t supposed to see angels. Only others of her kind should be able to see her wings, although it seemed those from Hell could see them, too.

Yet the pictures revealed humanity knew about angels, proved they interacted. More research showed there were enough stories to muddle any truth.

She discovered books about forbidden romances between angels and humans. Angels and demons. Movies featuring angels. Television shows.

How to separate truth from lie?

Currently, she relied on the devil’s daughter to feed her information. However, Helen had more questions and wondered if the answers would change if she talked to someone else. Hence why she ended up making her way to the offices of Grim Dating to speak with the reaper who’d been on her mind since the moment they met. A man who said he could show her proof that Heaven was a lie.

Julio snapped his fingers. “Curls, I asked you a question. Do you want me to show you where babies come from or not?”

She did and didn’t, which was why she admitted, “Is it odd that I do and don’t?”

“I’d say that’s a normal reaction to having your perception of the world turned upside down. Would it help if I said I’ll be beside you the whole time?”

Actually, it did help. “What kind of proof do you have?”

“Come with me to find out.” He rose and reminded her of his height. As he moved, she caught glimpses of his cloak, a living black fog that undulated at his back.

Exiting the building that she’d travelled to via something called a taxi, he insisted on driving. It meant being in close proximity with him in his truck, the kind that had a box in the back to carry things. The enclosed cab meant his scent was everywhere, as was his cloak, swirling and teasing around her.

She slapped at it. “Would you stop that?”

“Sorry. It likes you.”

The inanity of the comment had her snorting. “A cloak doesn’t feel.”

“A reaper one does. It’s a part of me and reacts to my environment and my emotions. I imagine your wings are the same.”

Her nose wrinkled. “My wings are not satanic magic.”

“Never said they were. I referenced the fact they’re a part of you and yet, at the same time, can act independently if needed.”

As if speaking woke them, she felt her wings shivering, invisible to humans on this plane. Like his cloak.

She cocked her head. “Can you manifest your garment for humans?”

“Yes, but I rarely bother.”

“How is it that I can see it?”

He shrugged. “No idea, but I guess it has to do with the fact I can spot an angel even if their wings are tucked away.”

“Have you met many angels?”

“A few. Goading Michael is one of my favorite things.”

“The Michael?”

“If you mean the douchebag with blond hair and seriously annoying attitude, then yes.”

At his lack of deference, she coughed. “He’s one of the highest placed angels in Heaven.” Everyone knew his name, and his rages. Michael came through the nursery once, ranting about the empty cribs, wanting to know why there weren’t more babies. The Archnanny had followed at his heels and muttered something about contraception, which made no sense at the time.

But now… Her mind shied away from it. Not ready. She focused on Julio instead.

“Michael is a pompous ass, and it gives me immense pleasure to get him spitting mad,” he said.

“And he hasn’t punished you?” Michael was their greatest enforcer.

“I keep hoping he’ll try.” Julio winked at her.

“Shouldn’t you be watching where you’re driving?” She’d seen accidents on television. They didn’t appear enjoyable.

“You’re not dying in the next five minutes.”

“How would you know?” she sassed.

“Reaper, remember? Imminent death always smells.”

“Like what?”

“Depends on the person, but for me it’s usually baking bread. Yeasty and yet delicious.”

“Death smells good to you?” The idea seemed strange.

“Yup.”

He turned onto a street and she asked, “Where are we going?”

“You asked for proof, and lucky for you, I happened upon the perfect thing. I’m going to introduce you to someone.”

“Who?”

“You’ll see in a minute.” He parked his truck, and a moment later, they stood in front of a door painted a deep red.

At his brisk knock, a beautiful woman answered. Her hair was even curlier than Helen’s. As she gazed at Helen, her face went through a series of expressions before settling on incredulous. “Okay, did someone put pot in the brownies again, or are you wearing a halo?”

“What? No.” Helen put a hand to her head as she felt for it. If visible, it would be solid. Her fingers met nothing but air, meaning the woman in front of her must be like Julio, some kind of Hell minion who could see it, and yet she appeared quite human. Could there be others capable of seeing her true nature?

“Hey, Samantha. We spoke on the phone. I’m Julio with Grim Dating.” He held out his hand.

“Oh, I’m surprised to see you here. I only submitted an application to your company on a lark. That logo with the cute little reaper...” Samantha rolled her shoulders and chuckled.

“And I’m so glad you did because your portfolio caught my eye. May we come in?”

“Of course.” Samantha stepped aside and ushered them into the living room where he sat on the couch, Helen by his side. “Can I get you a drink? Coffee? Water?”

“We’re fine. And I’ll be sure to add gracious hostess to your profile.” Julio leaned forward and smiled. “You’re just the type of candidate we like. I’m convinced we’ll be able to find your perfect match.”

“I can’t wait. I haven’t dated in forever. It will be kind of nice to have the vetting process taken out of my hands. I figure you can’t do any worse than I have.” Samantha laughed despite the self-deprecating comment.

“Don’t you worry. Grim Dating is all about making the right matches.” Julio smiled at the other woman, and Helen got annoyed, even though she couldn’t have explained why.

It soured her mood and words. “Why are we here? I thought you said you had proof to show me.”

“I’m getting to it. Tell me, have you noticed anything different about Samantha?”

“She’s very attractive for a human.” It made her self-conscious.

Samantha snorted. “Wow. Complimented and insulted in one shot. I’m not human, sweetie.”

“Then what are you?” Helen asked. She saw no sign of wings, or anything that set Samantha apart from other humans.

“Can’t you smell it?”

Helen could only smell a jumbled mess that meant nothing to her. “I smell a great many things.”

“I’m a shapeshifter. My other form is a wolf.”

“You’re an animal?” Helen’s eyes widened.

“We’re all animals, sweetie.”

Helen shook her head. “No. I’m not.” She glanced at Julio. “I don’t understand why we’re here.”

“That makes two of us. Why are you really here? Because it’s becoming obvious it’s not only because of my application.” Samantha arched a brow.

“I’m afraid my visit did have a secondary purpose. Helen is a new client of ours, currently under the misconception that angels can’t make babies.”

To which Samantha snorted. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

Samantha eyed Helen. “Where do you think angel babies come from?”

Why did Helen blush as she said, “The stork brings them.”

Samantha couldn’t stop laughing and all the while Helen got more and more annoyed. Finally, Samantha wiped at her wet eyes and said, “Holy fuck, that was funny.”

“Except for the fact she truly believes it,” Julio added.

“Now I see why you’re here.” Samantha then yelled, “Lector, get in here.”

A small boy entered, sporting big shiny eyes, curly blond hair, a dimple in his cheek. A gorgeous child who ran to his mother, meaning Helen could see his back.

And the outline of his wings.

A roaring filled her ears. She couldn’t blink, and her eyes dried as she stared at the boy crawling into his mother’s lap. A cherub. Here. On Earth.

How could this be?

“Where did you find him? Did you pick him in a cabbage patch?” she asked through wooden lips.

“I wish! Took me a full day of labor before I could push out his giant head. I thought my twat would never recover. He’s my son. One hundred percent.”

“And the Father?” Julio softly prodded.

“What do you think?” was Samantha’s sarcastic reply. “His daddy was an angel.”

Helen was frozen in place as it hit her. “Heaven lied.” The Archangels, the teachers, everyone.

Samantha set the child down and eyed Helen. “Did they lie? Or did they just not tell you? Because Theodore, Lector’s Father, was fully aware he could make babies. It’s why he wore a rubber. Only it broke.”

“And you’re sure Theodore was an angel?” she asked to clarify.

Samantha nodded. “Wings, halo, and all. It’s kind of why I slept with him.”

“If you were sleeping, then how do you know he is the Father?”

“By sleeping, I mean we fucked. Twice. He called me a few days later, but I blew him off. He was only okay in the sack and boring out of it. When I found out I was pregnant, I tried to call, but his number was out of service. He doesn’t know he’s a Father, and I had no idea how to contact him.”

“We don’t have phones in Heaven. I think,” Helen added musingly. “I wonder if it was just the nursery that lacked amenities.” She glanced at Julio. “The night I went for a walk, I heard music. I saw people out and not seemingly worried about breaking rules. As if they didn’t have to obey them.” Her head dipped. “Why do they live differently than the nannies? Why are we punished if we don’t obey every single rule? Why couldn’t we have the same freedom as others?”

Julio had an answer. “Because there is no perfect system. Thinking, feeling people won’t act the same. There are some who will always force their will, their view, on others.”

“But why? How does it make sense to lie to us? They outlawed laughter,” she huffed.

He winced. “Yeah, that’s kind of brutal.”

“If you don’t like it, change it,” Samantha suggested. “You know Heaven’s secret. Reveal it. The more people, or in this case angels, who know the truth of how things really are, the more likely you are to change things.”

“How can I tell anyone? I don’t know how to get home.”

Even as she said it, uncertainty filled her on whether she wanted to return. Especially as she glanced over at Lector, who’d climbed the table and leaped off it, the outline of his wings spreading, not taking shape in this reality but reacting nonetheless.

A cherub on Earth. Were there more like him?

“Does he shapeshift into a wolf as well?” Julio asked.

Samantha shook her head. “No, but he’s young yet. Some don’t trigger until their teen years. Others need a full moon.”

The idea of the child changing shapes boggled the mind. But when the boy suddenly came close and grabbed her hand, his eyes peering into hers, she began to breathe quickly. He was living proof angels could make babies.

Male angels could, but she couldn’t. Because someone decided she shouldn’t.

God. Her lying Father in his prison. He’d done this to her.

That didn’t sit well.