“Get cleaned up, then. I'll be here.”
Carl looked around at the mass of cars and people camped out on the lawn, just outside the police barricade. “You'll be okay for a little while?”
“We'll be fine. I've got to get the girls to bed.”
She turned away and ushered the complaining girls down the ladder. The smell of the grease was surprisingly diminished below deck. She supposed it made sense. The entire hull had been waterproofed. If water couldn't find its way in, neither would many fumes.
She got the girls into their sleeping bags and lay down between them. A short way along the floor, someone snored. Others talked softly to each other.
“Mom, I'm not tired.” Robin's exhausted voice beside her. Margaret allowed them to stay up this late in order to tire them out, deaden the anticipation of the unknown they'd have to face tomorrow morning.
“I know,” she whispered. “Just lay down and rest your eyes. I'll be right here.”
She lay on her back and the girls each slumped over her outstretched arms, which Margaret assumed would fall asleep before her daughters.
Katie was silent, but Margaret guessed her eyes were scanning the dark interior of the ark. Robin yawned, then whispered, “Mom?”
“Yes?”
“I tried to call Crystal again today.”
Margaret’s heart tore. Robin had been going into the firehouse with either Estelle or Jen for the past week, each day calling her best friend. Just to talk. She had agreed not to try to get her to visit. Margaret explained that Crystal’s parents wouldn’t like that. Each time, her mother or father answered the phone. Each time, they'd refused to let the girls speak. The last couple of times, they'd simply hung up when they heard Robin's little voice.
“I'm sorry.”
“They just hung up again.” Robin was silent for a while, then, “Mom?”
“Yes, Honey.”
“Will I ever see Crystal again?” The girl's voice was eternally sad.
“Yes, Honey. Some day you'll see her again.”
“In Heaven? When we see Daddy?”
“Shut up!” Katie rose onto her elbow, reached over and poked her sister in the side.
“Ow! Katie hit me!”
“Katie, lay down.” Margaret continued to whisper. Katie lay back down.
Margaret waited a beat, then said, “Yes, Robin. When we see Daddy again. Now you need to be quiet so people can sleep.”
“But I -”
“Shh. Quiet. We can talk some more tomorrow.”
Katie was now sobbing into her mother’s arm, trying to be quiet about it. Margaret pulled her arm closer until her daughter was nestled against her. All this time, Katie had refused to call any of her own friends. Her reasons were her own, but Robin’s problems reaching Crystal must have had some play in them. When Robin realized her older sister was crying, she pulled close and tried to cry, too. But she hadn't the capacity, Margaret thought, to truly see the looming threat. Children that young took so much in stride.
Katie snuggled closer. Between stifled sobs, she whispered, “Mom? Are we going to be okay tomorrow?”
Margaret tapped her fingers against her daughter's arm. “We'll be fine. Now get some sleep.”
“I don't want to die.”
She closed her eyes tighter, fighting the fear welling up stronger than ever, tried not to wonder what would happen. Every time she tried to imagine life on the boat, on the water, nothing came. The future was only a blank wall of white, so surreal was the situation they were in. “Nobody wants to die,” she whispered. “That why we're here.... that's why we're here.”
She lay a long while, feeling the tension in the girls' bodies relax, hearing and feeling their breathing fall, at last, to a steady rhythm.
Eventually, Margaret also fell asleep.
And she dreamed.
A breeze ruffled the angel's hair as he stood in the back yard. Behind him, the house's demolition was no longer evident. It was only a dream, but Margaret was happy to see it this way one final time.
“You've done so much, Margaret. This is our last visit, I'm afraid. There's nothing I have left to tell you. I wanted to wish you well with everything tomorrow. And to say we'll be with you, all of us, every moment.”
She knew, somehow, what “us” in his statement meant. Who were these angels? Perhaps an army of God from the beginning of time. She didn't ask. He wouldn't tell her, anyway.
“They're good people,” she said. “My crew. They believe.”
David smiled, and shrugged. “Perhaps. Every heart is different. But that's beside the point, isn't it? They've come this far; they'll stay to see it through.”
Margaret walked to the picnic table, laid a hand on the cool, dew-covered wood. She sat on it and looked at the angel. “They're ready. As ready as they can ever be. What about the others?”
“Others?”
“The ones building the other arks, everywhere.”
David smiled. “They're as ready as they'll ever be.” He laid a hand on her cheek. The feeling was familiar yet strange at the same time. She felt as if she'd known this man forever. His touch was cool, comforting.
He removed his hand and stepped back, expression all business. “You need to sleep, as much as possible, at least.” The yard began to fade. He added, “See you soon.”
Margaret stood, then tried to smile. “I hope you don't mean that literally.”
David laughed. “Just an expression.”
The yard faded away. The angel remained, in the nothingness, staring at the spot where Margaret had disappeared along with the dream. The trace of a sad smile worked across his face, and he whispered, “See you soon, Margaret,” before fading away into the blackness.
0
Jack splattered the remainder of the butter from its plastic container onto a piece of toast. Just one slice this morning along with a glass of orange juice. No need for a heavy breakfast when God's judgment would be upon them all in a few hours. He'd forgotten what time the angel Michael had said it would happen. It didn’t matter. Everyone around him seemed to know. Even the young black man who'd taken it upon himself to follow him around these past few days, and who sat sullenly beside him eating nothing himself. Jack took a bite of his toast, but could not taste it. All was unimportant when bathed in the Light of Heaven.
“Heading out soon, Jack?” Rick stood behind him with a hand resting on his shoulder. The preacher nodded and chewed. Rick patted him once and said, “Don't worry about clean up duty this morning. It's a big day for you.”
Jack swallowed, furrowed his brows as if in thought. Then he stood. “For me?” he asked. Seeing Jack’s dark expression, Rick stepped back.
“Sure,” he said. “Quarter past eleven, right? Are you - “
“A big day for all of us!” Jack raised his voice, swept an arm towards the table. Toast crumbs fell from the sleeve of his long coat and tattered cast. “The last day for all of us on Earth.”
“Amen!” someone shouted from the next table. Laughter, some applause.
Jack smiled. “Amen, amen,” he said. More shouts, applause. “Amen, amen, I say. You will all be dead today!” He turned and walked towards the exit. The angel scrambled to his feet, glared at as many people in the room as possible - though he knew only a few could even see him, those he allowed to see him - and followed his charge towards the door.
“Wait for us!” someone shouted. “Wouldn't miss this show for the world!”
Sounds of shuffling chairs. Rick raised his arms and tried to snag a few stragglers to stay behind and clean up. Most ignored him. Jack emerged into the bright morning sunlight followed by a crowd of two dozen men and women, some smiling broadly, shouting “Amen, Brother.” Others were more sullen, respectful. Frightened.