Angel or Human? - 1. Angel or Human?

The alarm breaks the silence of the room, although I am already awake. I reach out and turn it off. All it really means is I have to get up and go to work, nothing I really enjoy, but it is a necessary evil like most things in my life. It is hard to pretend and go through life acting like everyone else, when your own life is totally screwed up. However, that is the normal state of being for someone like me. My parents long ago blurred the line between good and evil, normal and superior, angelic and humanity. After all, I am the proof those two didn’t follow the rules. When an angel and a mortal have a child, their child is called a Nephilim. See, there is good and bad to being a Nephilim. The good being, we can detect lies and have a burning desire to help those in need; the bad, we are always being looked for by the Fallen to switch sides and help drag humanity down. Like all who live, we are neither black nor white, but all of us are really just shades of gray.

My job isn’t one that rakes in the cash. I work as a waiter in the local diner. I have a college degree in business, but after just a few months, I nearly went insane listening to lies and pain, unable to do much because how do you help a business change? As much as I might like to reach out and help a single individual who works there, reality is they don’t want the help; they want the money in their paycheck, even if it is costing them their humanity.

I climb into the shower and feel the water pelt down on me. It always helps to keep me grounded. I nearly giggle as I realize that the idea of being grounded is a terrible joke. I am one of the stronger Nephilim. I was a teenager when the final mark, a feather-like tattoo, appeared on my upper arm. For most that is the last sign of reaching adulthood; it appears on all Nephilim at seventeen. Not me, I’m not that lucky. On the day I finally worked up the nerve to ask my crush out, I had an incredible pain burst across my back.

“Mom! Oh God! Mom!” The pain was incredible and I nearly passed out as I stood in my mother’s kitchen screaming for her.

“Gabe,” she nearly raced into the kitchen. “Are you all right?”

My whole back felt like it was on fire. I fell to my knees, and then to all fours like a dog. My shirt felt tight and then an ache like I have never felt before wracked my body.

“Gabe!” My mother stood frozen in place as she looked at me.

My shirt shredded, fell off my back, and I smelled the metallic scent of blood. I felt my skin burst as my back became a writhing source of agony. I collapsed onto the floor, unconscious.

When I awoke, my mother was holding my head in her lap, running a cool rag over my face. “Careful, Gabe. Don’t try to turn over.”

I reached out and suddenly felt feathers. “What? What the fuck is that?”

I slowly came to, looking first left, then right seeing huge white wings. There were enormous snow white wings spread out around me like some sort of freaky blanket. How the hell did this happen?

“It’s okay, Gabe.” My mother gently stroked my face. “It’s going to be okay.”

“How is this,” I demanded as I pointed to my wings, “going to be all right?”

She tried to hug me tight, but had problems as my wings knocked over a chair and pushed the table out of the way.

“Gabe, baby, you need to calm down.”

“How can I calm down? I have God damn wings! This isn’t normal, Mom.” I sat, curled as much as I could in her lap, torn between crying and screaming in rage. The whole time, my mom just sat with me and tried her best to comfort me.

It took a few hours ‘til I was calm, and then, if I thought about them vanishing, they slowly folded up, tucking themselves back into my skin. Once they were back inside my skin, the wings appeared as two angel wing tattoos on my back. The problem was, every time I became nervous or upset they sprouted again. It took awhile for me to control their sprouting, and even longer for me to be able to use them to fly, but that is a story for another time.

As a Nephilim I live between two worlds. I was an adult now and out of school. I found a job as a waiter, while I went to college. Mom helped where she could, but we had never had much money. Scholarships and what I earned allowed everything to be paid. College and being able to pay was something that made me feel proud. Mom tried extra hard to help with books and all, but mostly she loved me, and that, more than anything, for a long time helped me to help others.

The work as a waiter wasn’t great, but it was better than the corporate world. You’d be amazed how many people talk to you about really personal stuff once they feel comfortable with you. Naturally, my angelic half helped them to feel they could trust me pretty quickly.

“I tell you, Gabe, that I’m not sure what I should be doing. My wife hasn’t paid the slightest attention to me, but Margie is sweet and wants to have sex. If I do this I’ll be breaking my wedding vows, but I don’t know if Sue would even care. She hasn’t wanted to talk, touch, or have sex in months.” Larry sat looking at his lunch as he spilled his most personal secrets to me.

“Larry, don’t do something you will regret. Talk to your wife. Sit her down and ask her what is going on. You might find she is keeping secrets herself. You won’t know ‘til you talk. If you did something with Margie, and then you found out there was a problem with your wife, it could destroy any chance you had. It would be easier to be honest and not mess up everyone’s lives.”

Larry looked up and stared at me earnestly.

I figured it had to be hard for a forty something year old to be taking advice from an eighteen year old unmarried kid. Even my angelic side could only do so much. The final decision was still going to be his, but now I’d nudged that conscience of his.

It was the following week I found Larry sitting down to dinner with a pale looking woman. When I went to talk to them, I found out quickly the woman was Sue. She had been diagnosed with cancer and had finally told Larry. Larry was now doing all he could to support his wife. He was taking her out tonight so she would have one good meal before she began her cancer treatment. It seemed I had managed to help Larry before he made a huge mistake.

I had a number of regulars, but none were like Bea. Beatrice Louise Melville was the town librarian. She was smart, well dressed, and a sincerely lovely woman. She came in daily for dinner before she returned to the house her parents had owned and left to her. Every night, she sat at the same table in my area, ordered a cup of tea, and one of four meals. Her great secret was the fact she was a lesbian. At sixty four years old, Bea had been alone for a long time. She had grown up in an age when gays and lesbians were looked down on, made into something to be pitied, or made into scapegoats for the sins of others.

“Evening, Gabe. I’ll have a cup of tea, lemon, sugar, and no cream.”

I smiled as if this was the first time she had ever ordered the meal. I left her with a menu and came back a few moments later with her tea.

“How are you, Gabe?”

“I’m good, Ms. Melville. How are you?”

She looked up at me, her dark green eyes seemed to focus on me and her lips pursed. “Lonely.”

I smiled and took her hand in mine for a moment. “There are plenty of people who would love to get to know you.”

She shook her head no and glanced at the menu.

I waited patiently.

“Too damn old. Been too long since I had anyone in my life.”

I took a breath. She was still guarding herself, but I knew she needed to let this out and find someone to share her life with again.

“When was the last time you had a woman share your life?”

Bea’s head immediately shot up. Her hair escaped the bun at the back of her head, and slowly cascaded down her back. The tight controlled look, where she was always so pulled together, had shattered in that move. Little curls surrounded her face, the look of surprise erased the stern expression she normally wore. It made her look less hard and more vulnerable. Unfortunately she was also very scared, the color drained from her face, and her hands began to shake.

“How … how did you know?”

I smiled. How could I tell her that a thousand little things gave her away to me? The glances at the young gay couples, the way she avoided the waitresses but tried to watch them without being noticed, the longing looks at the couples who sat laughing and talking, and so many other little things people see and never really put together unless they have a reason to. Most secrets end up exposed to me. It is why the Fallen want the Nephilim so badly. We know what it takes to help or hurt a person. We can raise them up or use their secrets to bring them down and curse them.

“Bea, all you need is love. Love is nothing to be scared of. This isn’t the fifties. Attitudes have changed.”

Bea looked at me, bit her bottom lip, and nodded slowly.

“Think about it, Bea. Love has a way of finding you if you let it. Just be honest with yourself.”

Bea slowly looked down at the menu. There were unshed tears in her eyes.

“What would you like to eat tonight?” I didn’t want to push her any further. She needed time to think.

“I’ll have the steak, medium rare, baked potato, and a salad.” Bea’s voice cracked and she wouldn’t look up as she handed me the menu.

“I’ll put your order right in, Bea.” I smiled and left her alone to think.

It took a little while, but about two months later, Bea arrived one evening with a beautiful woman named Amanda. Amanda was a year younger than Bea and she had recently moved to town. It wasn’t long ‘til they moved in together. Most thought it was just two old maids, finding each other for companionship. They were partially right, but it was more two women who finally found someone to love.

The ones that drive me nuts are the one timers that I end up talking to and never know what happens. Like the time I had a teenager named Jimmy come in with his parents. They had sat down in another section, but Jimmy had gotten up and slumped into a chair right on the edge of my area.

“Can I help you?” I paused and looked at the kid sitting there, scuffing the floor with his sneakers.

“Nah. Just need a minute away from them.” He waved his hand in his parents’ direction.

“Something wrong?”

Jimmy looked up, his long blond hair falling across his face, half hiding his eyes from me.

“Just need to get away.”

I looked at him and everything about him screamed run. He didn’t want to be here, that much was clear, but there was something about him that seemed off.

“From your parents? They hurt you or something?”

Jimmy just looked down. His body language told me I wasn’t right.

“You gay or they hate your girlfriend?”

Jimmy kept looking down. Again I’d missed the mark and this wasn’t like me. Before it was just a sense that something was off, now I was determined to know why this kid was setting off my personal alarm bells.

“Jimmy?” An attractive woman slowly came over to where we stood. “Oh. I’m sorry. Is my son causing a problem?”

“Not at all.” I turned on all the charm. “He just asked if he could sit here for a moment. I think he only wanted to think. I will have him return to you in just a moment, ma’am. Promise, it isn’t an issue at all.”

“You’re sure?” She looked from Jimmy to me and back again.

“Positive.” I smiled at her.

“All right. Food should be at our table in a moment, Jimmy. Don’t be too long. We want to eat and get back on the road.”

Jimmy sighed and nodded.

His mother walked back to her table just as Wendy arrived with their drinks.

I focused on Jimmy. There was something here, I just had to figure out what it was.

“You are moving, aren’t you?” I asked because I noticed a van outside with luggage tied to the roof.

“Yeah.”

It still wasn’t causing a response. I was running out of options.

“They are hoping the change will help.”

“Help with what, Jimmy?”

He looked up and brushed the hair out of his face. His dark brown eyes looked at me, empty. “Help with the depression.”

When it comes to medical conditions, there isn’t always a lot I can do. Occasionally, I can sense someone is ill and push for them to go see a doctor. I don’t know how to make miracles happen. When it comes to things like death or depression, I am just like any other human being - I can pray and hope for the best. It hurts not being able to ease every pain, but it is times like that, I’m grateful for my mother and my boyfriend. Their love and support eases my own discomfort.

“Oh. Are you getting help?”

“Pills.” Jimmy looked down and crossed his feet.

“Are they helping?”

Jimmy shrugged.

Rarely, I will sense the fact that someone has a real future. Their future has something that will change their world, and perhaps the whole world for the better. The only real problem is keeping them going. With Jimmy, I knew he had something important to do, that he had a future, and it was going to be beautiful if he didn’t get lost in this and lose the light in his life.

“All I can tell you is life keeps going, Jimmy. If you are willing to try, it can get better.” I felt like he needed something to hold on to, and I wasn’t sure what I could do for him. “If you give up, well, it can only get worse. Trust me, it is better to keep fighting.”

Jimmy didn’t look up. I glanced around and none of my tables needed me yet, but I spotted Wendy carrying a tray of food to the table his parents were sitting at.

“I think your food just arrived.”

Jimmy looked over and slowly got to his feet. I rested my hand on his shoulder and he looked at me.

“I wish you the best of luck, Jimmy.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, as he schlepped his way back to his table.

I did something I hate doing. I slipped into the bathroom, removed my shirt and willed my wings into existence. It hurts, but I needed a feather. Anyone who tells you plucking a feather doesn’t hurt is an idiot. Once I had relaxed, I let my wings retract, slipped my shirt back on, and headed back into the restaurant. I saw Jimmy slumped in the booth, barely touching the food. He looked up at me and I silently gave him the feather. His mother looked at me strangely, but Jimmy smiled, and I noticed a light in his eyes for the first time.

“Can I get someone to take my order?” A loud woman called as she sat in my area.

I hurried over to take her order and get her some water.

I got caught up with the orders at my station and by the time I had a chance to look, Jimmy and his parents had left. I never did find out what happened to him, but I hope he found the strength to keep fighting.

I left the diner for a short while once I graduated college. I thought working in the corporate world would help me make money and thereby allow me to help more people. Instead, I was faced with a world of lies that were focused on making the bottom line look better. I couldn’t take the constant lies, the frustration of not being able to help anyone, and the soulless way people droned on. I felt like I was losing myself and I loathed it. I changed jobs three times in less than six months. It seemed each new job made me feel less in control, and more angry at being so ineffectual. At the end of it, I couldn’t help but think I made more of a difference at the diner, so I quit the corporate world and went back there.

So, now I do what I’ve done since I was sixteen. I smile and gladly accept what I have and what I do. I wait tables, listen to people’s lives, and try to help them when I can. I have some of the powers of an angel and all the traits of humanity. I live a life not of one or the other, but somewhere in the middle of it. Where good and bad, angel and human, right or wrong intersect in the blurred lines of daily life. I’m a Nephilim and as long as I don’t fall prey to the Fallen, I will do my best to help humanity.