WRITERS WRITE... WRITING PARTNERS FEUD ~ Israfel’s Song 2

Over the next several weeks, we will be sharing excerpts of the angelic characters from a work in progress, THE DARKNESS WITHIN, Book Three by Angelica Hart and Zi.

continued

ANGEL WINGS OF HOPE

London, England - Israfel’s Song
        If I cannot fly, let me sing. - Stephen Sondheim

Carole thought placing her Auntie Millie in a nursery home that was once a spacious Terraced house would make her Aunt feel less like she was in a facility. Carole had been wrong. Her aunt was despondent, just like those around her in the open visitor’s lounge. The residents sat like tombstones with palled epitaphs. Staring like unmovable gray stones in the midst of festive Christmas tinsel, poinsettias, an opulently dressed fresh tree, colorfully sprinkled cookies and swags of holly. Even the nurses and assistants appeared more like sterile robots than ministering care givers. There wasn’t just a lack of Christmas spirit, there was no motivation. Sadness felt like an oppressive cloud, joy had been siphoned from the nursing home as if invisible gremlins had a vacuum and sucked up every scrap of happiness.

"Humbug," was whispered. By whom? An unhappy entity.

Carole noted, especially, the sadness in her aunt. That pain wrenched, "This is so unfair. Someone please help." Had she prayed? Possibly.

At ninety-years old, most of Auntie Millie’s friends had passed or were living far away in other sterile places like this. She had no family her age, and those that visited did so as a yearly constitution. Carole was the only one who was faithful and came often. She loved her Auntie, and bemoaned the loss of their laughter and even their tears. They were once lively friends, but the onset of dementia had begun to steal even that. Carole saw those moments when her aunt slipped into the foggy tunnel of confusion. At least Millie still recognized Carole, still smiled at her approach.

“Hi dear, you well?” Millie managed.

A hug was exchanged, one of those fragile ones that could be barely felt. “Well, and you?”

She shrugged. “Good. Your Mum? Mike? The kids? Bet they can’t wait to see Father Christmas!” The tiniest spark of enthusiasm ignited at the last word. Gas burped from her seat. "Damn frogs!"

“Can’t wait,” Carole said, not reminding the woman that her kids weren’t little any longer but university age, and that her husband’s name was Andrew. She divorced Mike sixteen years ago. Mum had passed two years hence. "I chase frogs, too!"

Carole sat next to her Aunt, patted her hand. They both stared for a moment, and then Carole began to tell her all about one person or another, one funny event or another, and all in a falsetto happy tone. Her aunt nodded as if she got every word, but Carole could tell she wasn’t really listening. She was fading, slipping into a place where Carole didn’t exist. One day she’d come and Auntie Millie wouldn’t be there. Just her shell. Tightness in Carole's throat forced her to swallow as she suppressed tears and tamed her chin's quiver. That point of demarcation, total loss of reality, haunted.

Such profound sadness overcame Carole, she had to still inner tremors.

Then, from just behind her was a UPS man, known to everyone as Israfel. The man started humming a Christmas Carole, Joy to the World. Auntie Millie loved that song. Carole, who wouldn’t recognize a note if it kissed her, who would be a beat behind even if someone drummed it on her head, used to sing it to Auntie Millie before Carole understood she couldn’t sing. But Auntie Millie didn’t care, she’d laugh and sing with her, encourage her. She tell her, “To our good Lord, it’s all about making a joyful noise. Now, there it is.”

Gathering her courage, Carole belted out the song, didn’t even hesitate or start quietly. She stood in front of her aunt, stretched out her hands and started. Joy to the world, the Lord is come! Let earth receive her King; Let every heart prepare Him room, And Heaven and nature sing, And Heaven and nature sing, And Heaven, and Heaven, and nature sing….

Auntie Millie suddenly looked truly alert, her shoulders pushed back into the chair and miraculously her voice rose as well. A quivery old voice, but she still held the sweet clarity of song that she had when she was young. After a stunned pause, other weak voices joined in. Those ambulatory and in wheel chairs scooted closer. The voices grew louder. Who would have known? Angels would have.

At first the staff was startled, and the administrator walked over with every intention of quieting the group. After all, in her mind, the old should not be disturbed. But when she arrived, Carole linked her arm with the other woman’s and got her swaying. Something touched her deep inside and her surprisingly strong, soprano voice broke into the melee of sounds.

The head nurse walked by, paused, stared, and then smiled. She put her arm around two of the residents and sang, loud and off-key.

The atmosphere changed.

Joy exploded.

People began to laugh amidst the song. Some had tears in their eyes as other memories of Christmases past emerged.

The gloom that had darkened the visitor’s area dissipated. It was as if blinds had been opened and spears of sunshine splintered inward. None of that had happened. Just an invisible Israfel touching one person after another, encouraging the music within, and the combined voices brought light where demons once pressed for darkness.

All imps and gremlins scampered away, and wouldn’t return as long as music remained. Israfel saw those mystical beings flee being spanked by music.

The zaftig administrator, seeing how the song enlivened the elders, decided to instituted a music hour each day. The residents began to have energy again, participate in life, again. An oxygen delivery person who witnessed the impromptu sing-a-long noticed the change. His own sour mood with having to work extra hours to buy Christmas gifts altered. He had even stayed a few minutes to sing with everyone. On his next stop, he began to hum. Israfel's spirit washed over him and his voice became loud in song, encouraging those around him to do the same. A person who had a talented voice picked up the tune and soon the entire floor began to sing. The pharmacy delivery man sang it back at his job. It became infectious, from one person to another, from one nursing home to another, from one home to another. 

Through Israfel’s efforts, the entire community began to lift their voices. In time, music programs sprang up, uplifting the entire community. Schools offered their choirs. Churches encouraged their choirs. And local radio stations began to spend one day a month doing live broadcasts from these elderly havens. A bond of hope clung onto a community, sullying everyone with far too much joy to whisk away.

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About the Story: The Darkness Within is a fast-paced supernatural thriller involving, kidnapping, romance, gypsies, and supernatural beings. The tale revolves around private detective Brie (Gabriella) Tyler's investigation of several missing young women believed to be runaways. Somehow, it connects to a past she cannot remember.   While trying to find his missing niece, Jake Marlo, the owner of prestigious private detective agency, crosses path with Brie. Independent and feisty, Tyler resists Marlo's help and romantic attention. The two collide as heinous henchmen and supernatural forces threaten to destroy their lives.

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Angelica Hart and Zi ~ Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
www.champagnebooks.com - www.carnalpassions.com - angelicahartandzi.com