Knocking on Helen’s Door by Eve Langlais
3
Helen nearedthe edge of the lit area. Feeling exposed, she dropped to skim over the fog before immersing herself in it. It dampened the skin but didn’t appear to sodden her robe. Her feet hit the ground, and she stumbled for a second before catching herself.
She walked in the direction of the lights, the mist fading as she reached a row of stakes planted in a line that kept the fog from drifting farther.
Hands clasped tight in nervousness, she stepped into the light. No one yelled, but to her surprise, she heard voices. She moved to the nearest building, a single-floor structure with a wide window and a door.
It was dark, but the next window cast a glow. She crept close for a peek and blinked at the sight. Angels, their wings ghostly gossamer at their backs, sat in a group, conversing, not praying. Fraternizing! Rule breakers like her.
She thought about knocking, only to hesitate. What if they turned her in? She had to know more.
Helen traversed past that building and found herself in a maze of hundreds. Only a small portion bore illumination, enough to move swiftly, as she wondered if this place was even part of Heaven. It resembled nothing she’d ever imagined. For one, not everyone was asleep like at the nursery. A male angel wearing a tunic and pants suddenly opened a door.
He stared at her then smiled. “Hello there. Want to come in?” He winked and stood aside.
Rather than reply, she ran. Impulse made her weave in and out of streets until she was utterly lost.
Hugging herself, she began to regret having broken the rules. She just wanted to go home. She glanced up and wondered if she could climb to a rooftop. There wasn’t space enough to launch from here.
Once more, a door opened, and rather than wait for them to ask questions, she slid into a dark alley. She crossed it, only to find herself pausing. From a dimly outlined door—light creeping past its edges—she could hear a rhythmic beat, as if someone played music but in a way she’d never imagined. It didn’t resemble at all the Heavenly choir they got to listen to during their weekly mass.
For a moment, she moved closer, intrigued and, at the same time, disturbed by the strong, thumping beat. She placed her hand on the door and felt it vibrate under her fingers.
What did they listen to? Could this be the devil music she’d learned about in school? They’d brushed over it in theology, and she’d often wondered what exactly it sounded like.
It was exhilarating, and she found herself moving in time to it, her hips twitching. Her body undulated in a sinuous way that was surely a sin.
Shocked, and a little worried, she moved away from the music—ran actually—until she spilled onto another road. More angels strolled along laughing, sinning by all appearances.
Helen kept jogging, past buildings that were eventually spaced out enough she could fly, but by now she could see a park up ahead with tall trees offering cover. The moment she stepped within, she realized others shared it with her. She heard soft murmurs and husky laughter. A rare noise usually uttered by the cherubs and quickly shushed. Mature angels did not guffaw.
She’d never understood. How could laughter be a sin?
The pure pleasure of it drew her along the spiral path between the twining garden of trees, each the exact same width, height, and number of leaves. That forest gave way to metal shapes. Gray-, gold-, and silver-hued, their forms were indistinct in the wispy clouds clinging to them. They were spread out around a tall hedge that showed a path leading into it.
She didn’t plan to go in, but voices from behind spurred her. She entered and peeked to see a pair of soldiers emerge from the tree line, and head for the hedges!
Not wanting to get caught, she sped down the path, looking for another exit. The space between the hedges was too close to take flight, too tall to see over. A place of trickery she realized, as some paths led to dead ends. She tried to retrace her steps but quickly became lost before she stumbled across the most shocking thing.
The starlight provided enough illumination for her to recognize Michelina, wearing a short robe, made shorter on one side as she’d hiked it above her waist to better wrap her leg around a bigger angel’s waist. She moaned as if in pain, and yet she appeared to be participating in whatever it was that hurt. What were they doing? Why were they naked below the waist and banging their groins against each other?
It came to her suddenly! The rite of fornication. What do you know? Opposing male and female parts did fit!
Michelina cried out, screamed really, and clawed at the angel moving rapidly against her.
The poor thing! She was in pain. Helen couldn’t stand by and do nothing, so she yelled, “Leave her alone!”
The male angel’s eyes widened, but it was Michelina who hissed, “She can’t tell anyone.”
The male angel tugged his robe over a penis much larger than Helen had ever seen. She usually dealt with cherubs.
Distracted by the angel’s massive protuberance, it took her a moment to realize he’d drawn a sword from his hip and pulled it back to swing.
Helen squeaked. “What are you doing?” Was she about to be killed? She wasn’t the one who’d broken any laws.
“Don’t you use that sword.” Michelina came to her rescue.
Helen almost sighed in relief.
“You can’t do it here,” Michelina chided. “Think of the blood. Do it somewhere else. Somewhere we won’t get caught.”
The implication widened Helen’s eyes.
“I’ll take her below,” said the angel.
Where below? Helen glanced at her feet. There was nothing under there but—
The angel lunged for her, and she yelled, which led to Michelina hissing, “Shh.”
“I will not shush!” Helen yelped as she struggled against the male angel. “Help. They’re breaking—”
A hand slammed over her mouth.
Helen bit it. The angel yelled before thumping her temple with a fist. The next thing she knew, she woke in someone’s arms, head throbbing.
She blinked and slurred, “Whaaat happened?”
“Don’t move. We’re almost there.” The deep voice and its claim didn’t reassure.
Her head ached with pain, not something she’d often experienced. She only rarely hurt herself.
A jolt ended their flight, and the angel holding her let go. She hit the ground with a sharp cry, her palms slapping against stone that felt pitted and slimy.
She blinked and gaped and made the mistake of sucking in a breath. Putrid. Awful. Stomach clenching. She gagged. “What’s that smell?”
“Welcome to Earth.”
