Henry's Battalion, Chapter Two
During a brief respite, Henry has visitors.
No preface for this chapter, just gratitude for your time spent reading it 💚 ❤️ (Here is the prologue and chapter one in case you missed them).
Chapter Two
Henry sat on a porch swing that creaked threateningly due to an almost imperceptible breeze. Had he actually had any mass, it would have collapsed under his weight immediately, and not just the swing, but the entire porch. Being without a body had its benefits. Behind him, resting against the wall and as weightless as its owner, was the battle-worn sword he used the night before to defend Emma. When in use, it issued a celestial light, like morning sunshine. Now, it rested as Henry rested.
The small log cabin the porch was attached to sat near a bend in a stream, and looked a bit like a skeleton. It was tired and leaning. All of the windows had long since broken; feathery wisps of curtains clung to their frames. The logs, softened by time and weather, had only a tenuous hold on their shape. Spiders, termites and other crawlers enjoyed the food and the homes they provided, and their crumbling return to the earth was held off by Henry’s will alone. Grass and weeds grew all around and on the little dwelling. It was almost entirely swallowed up by the forest.
All around him, life bustled about. A rufous hummingbird buzzed happily from flower to flower. An acorn woodpecker drilled away at a long-dead lodgepole pine. It filled its newly dug pockets with acorns and squawked at pesky jay that was bent on stealing his hard-earned stores. A chattering squirrel chased a happy pair of mountain chickadees out of his tree, below which a doe and her fawn meandered as they grazed contentedly. A red fox curled up on the porch a few feet from where Henry sat, snoozing peacefully despite the raucous noise coming from two boisterous chipmunks playing chase on the dilapidated roof. A large mama black bear ambled through the clearing with her two cubs, happily picking away at the blackberry bush that had taken over much of what had once been a lovely garden patch.
Henry loved the creatures of the woods. In his life, he learned their names and habits, and they became his friends. After the loss of his wife and baby boy, he found human interaction painful and difficult. The animals were much more comforting and understanding. Although this was a generation of critters far removed from the ones he had known so well, they always sensed his presence and gathered to keep him company as he took a short respite from his labors.
A woman with short brown hair and bright brown eyes appeared silently and suddenly, with just the softest flash of light, on the swing next to him. Far from being startled, Henry felt a wave of relief come over him.
“Please tell me you are here to take my job,” he said. She smiled warmly. Her front teeth were a little big, and her hair was a little thin and mousy, and she was a little plump. Morning glory climbing the side of the cabin turned and opened their flowers to her and a swallowtail butterfly landed on the back of the swing, next to her shoulder.
“No, I’m afraid not. I had my turn already,” she responded, adjusting the hem of her plaid, blue-and-red button-up shirt. Then, with a wry smile, she added, “She isn’t giving you too much trouble, is she? She’s more fiery than she looks.”
“Gracious, no. Not her. But someone certainly has it in for her.”
The newcomer nodded and squinted her eyes with concern. “Someone has it in for all of us, if you ask me.”
Henry sighed heavily.
“Frankly, I don’t feel very qualified for this job. Sometimes, when we’re fighting, I feel sorry for the ones attacking us. There must be some real sorrow in them to kindle such rage. When the battle’s done and she still feels destroyed, it’s like nobody won. I just wish I could do more. If I could somehow help her to see…”
He sighed again.
“Well,” said the woman with another kind smile, “I think your empathy gives you great strength. And you know what they say, seeing is believing. But then, if we could see everything, know everything, what would be the point of faith? What would we learn?” She smiled as the fox stretched and yawned overdramatically. “I mean it when I say she’s fiery. Her soul is made of fire. It used to give her so much light and warmth, but now it burns her. It’s part of her that she doesn’t know anymore--she thinks it’s something separate, something bad that she has to put down and get rid of. She’s fighting a double battle, against the Opposition and against herself. Your job isn’t an easy one, Captain.” Henry bowed his head, still discouraged. The woman rested her hand on his shoulder. “She is in wonderful hands. I believe in you, and I’ll be around if you need me. My assignment allows me plenty of flexibility.” She rested her hand on his. “Thank you for being there for her, Henry.”
And with that, she was gone. The chipmunks, who stopped their game of chase to catch their breath and eavesdrop, started up again, and the woodpecker, remembering his annoyance, squawked once more at the jay.
Henry wished he could stay there forever. He wished he had more memories of this place, memories with his family. A twinge of guilt pricked him as he pined for what might have been. He knew the promise had been made, the price had been paid, for his happiness. Nothing, not even the unexpected, unbearable twists and turns of mortality, could keep him from that. For now, though, there was work to be done, for all of them. Still, some days waiting was hard.
He gathered his strength and his courage, and was about to depart as well when another visitor appeared next to him on the swing. Henry sat back again and smiled wearily.
“Just a quick break, Gabriel. I was on my way back.”
“Oh, I’m not here to scold you, my friend,” smiled the noble and ever-patient Gabriel. “It’s a misconception that spirits don’t get tired--certainly not physically tired, but your work is difficult and I won’t blame you for needing a moment.” He paused, still smiling. “This is a lovely home.”
Henry looked around him with a nostalgic, somewhat melancholy nod. “It would have been.”
“No, no, it was. And is. I know it didn’t get the kind of use you had hoped for,” he said, eyeing an old wooden swing hanging from a nearby sycamore tree. The moss-covered rope had given out on one side, and what was left of the seat hung sadly from the other. “Still, it is lovely. Many moments that seem lost are only postponed, you know.” The chickadees fluttered right past them as if to say hello.
Henry pondered his words, and as he gazed up into the sunlit canopy, he decided that his companion was right. His regret ebbed, and then flowed back to his previous uneasy thoughts.
“I’m…I’m not sure I’m doing a very good job,” he said. Gabriel smiled gently.
“What makes you say that? I heard all about your bout with the Opposition the other night. Sounds to me like you are doing very well indeed.”
“Gabriel, I am a simple man,” Henry exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “I should be assigned to a simple soul. She’s a Great One, for Heaven’s sake!”
“Oh, I think Heaven knows full well who she is. And who you are, for that matter. I’m not sure I understand what you are referring to...a simple soul? I’m quite certain there is no such thing.” Henry didn’t look encouraged. “Look, dear man, I understand how overwhelmed and under qualified you must feel. There are few of us who feel up to the tasks we are given, but they have been given to us for a very specific reason. Like I said, Heaven knows full well who she is. It’s part of the test, however, that she doesn’t have the full extent of that knowledge. I know exactly who she is, Henry. She fought by my side in the War, just as she did by yours. You have a whole battalion at your disposal, and more help than that, whenever you need it. You aren’t in this alone. None of us are.”
Henry nodded. He knew Gabriel was right, but his heart still felt heavy.
“You know, the Living have this idea that death is a state of ‘rest.’ I’ve never worked so hard in my life.”
Gabriel chuckled, and his eyes, at once ageless and ancient, were crinkled by wrinkles that bore witness of the numberless smiles that had crossed his face.
“A bit like a cruel joke, isn’t it?” His smile faded somewhat as his eyes grew more serious. “This work, Henry, is the greatest work we can do. There is a Plan for all of us, a purpose for which we are all striving. We can’t do it alone. You had your own battalion watching over you, and they wept for your sorrows and fought for your soul.” In his hands now was the sword. He handed it to Henry, who took it reverently.
“The captain of my battalion gave this to me,” he said softly, gripping the leather-wrapped hilt firmly. In his hands, it began to glow faintly once more. “She said it only seemed right that it should keep fighting for me.”
“Ah, yes, I know that sword. It has defended some of the greatest souls I’ve ever known. Souls no one would have heard of.” Gabriel paused, then smiled and put a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Struggling is what makes us great. Look at this stream,” he said, nodding towards it. “It chooses the path of least resistance. It chooses not to struggle. And yes, it seems to have quite a peaceful existence. But look how crooked it is. To be strong and straight is difficult. Sometimes the path you take must be the path of most resistance.” He took a breath and looked at his companion. “But you already know that. And you know that Heaven has already qualified you for every task and for every opponent that you meet.”
There was a brief moment of silence between them, interrupted when the two bear cubs began wrestling noisily again. Henry smiled and exhaled slowly.
“I will go and do,” he said, a bit wearily, but with sincerity.
Gabriel matched his smile and stood up, facing the stream.
“When they first come to Earth, you can see in their eyes that they still know, at least faintly, who they are. That fades all too quickly, I’m afraid. It would make our jobs so easy if even for a small moment they could remember just a taste of their worth, of their absolute brilliance. But that is not the Plan. And that is why Emma has you. It is your job to help her remember. Remember how her face shined with conviction, with courage, with the absolute certainty of her divine heritage? Remember how the Opposition cowered before her?” Henry was nodding. “She won’t remember those things, not yet. But she can remember the way she felt, especially the way she felt about herself. She can learn to love herself the way we do, the way He does. Then her greatness will be free to spread to others.”
Henry’s heart swelled with new courage and strength of its own. He stood with such purpose, such determination, that all of the animals in the meadow stopped what they were doing and looked his way. With a grateful nod to Gabriel, he sheathed his sword and vanished.
Gabriel sighed contentedly. He bent down to the fox, which got to its feet, stretched lazily, and wandered over to sit next to the Archangel. He scratched its head, and it leaned into him like it could feel the gesture.
“There’s work to do,” he said warmly, his eyes twinkling with an affectionate smile. He, too, vanished.
November 20, 1992
Sweet Emma,
I really don’t have time to write this morning, but I couldn’t pass this magical moment by. It is the morning of the first snowfall of the year. Peter has just caught the bus to school and Ruby is in her highchair eating Cheerios. You have dressed up your almost-three-year-old self in mis-matched snow clothes and you are outside exploring. I am watching you through the window as you go to each tree branch and inspect the clinging fluffs before you brush them off. Then you taste a handful and trudge off to check out something else. The big dogs are frolicking around you, and they shepherd you from one part of the yard to the next. I am sure that there have been many first snowfalls for millions of children throughout time. But the wonder and joy on your little face makes my soul smile and gives me shivers. It is one of those re-affirmations of life. I am truly grateful every day to be your mother. I could not be happier or feel more blessed. Love you infinity,
Mom
Don't know how I missed this one! I enjoyed reading it and it leaves you with a sense of hope for Emma and Henry.
I loved this chapter! It was so inspiring, rousing--I feel like it needs a soundtrack to go with it, Hans Zimmer, perhaps! And that letter at the end, my heart... 🥹