The Messenger 01 A Permanent Solution to a Temporary Problem
By Denise Arnault
It was Monday, a School Day, so Cyndi was in class. Algebra II to be precise. She should have finished that subject last year, but put it off and now she was paying the price. Boring!
To make matters worse, there was no one else in the class that she liked to hang out with, or talk to, not that she was all that much of a socialite. Quite the opposite, she was pretty much of a loner, but she did have Marci and Suzanne that she counted as friends. Of course, they were not in Algebra II. They had done the smart thing and taken it as Juniors.
As usual, she was seated at the rear of one of the four columns of desks. There was a quiet boy with long hair, whose name she did not know on her left and a football jock that everyone liked, but who did not know that she existed on her right, who were also occupying the final seats in their columns.
Mr. Grant, the class teacher, had not yet made his appearance, so the students were talking freely as they waited. The blonde girl a few seats up to the left, had said something about a movie that Cyndi had not quite heard. She did hear the response from the girl beside her.
"The werewolf, of course," the girl had replied.
"Oh, I think the vampire, for sure," the first girl insisted.
It seemed that they were discussing one of the recently released teen heart-throb flicks.
Cyndi's attention wandered about the room as she waited. The chalkboards on her right were erased, but still had the film of the prior information that they had contained smeared about as streaks of white. The old windows on her left were all closed and likely always would be now that the school was entirely air conditioned. Some of the panes of old wavy glass were cracked, but there were none missing. Pencils in a cup, books in a stack and papers in a box adorned Mr. Grant's desk. Lastly, she glanced at the chalkboard at the front of the room, where some Quadradic Equations were drawn. These would probably be the topic for today's instruction.
Mr. Grant came in a few moments later and proved her assumption to be boringly correct.
After the endless minutes of teaching and drill were over, the class emptied quickly in response to the bell broadcast over the PA system.
* * *
As Cyndi made her way down the hallway outside the Algebra class on her way to English Lit, she was stopped short by a restraining hand on her left shoulder.
"Hey, Cyndi?" she heard. The voice was male, but the tone in which the owner of the voice had spoken did not make it clear if it was a statement or a question. She turned around in the direction of the hand, to see who was there.
There was a boy there, who looked a little older than her. His curly black hair drooped over his eyes, which seemed to be brown, but could have been green or even blue. The shadow caused by his brow made it unclear. His t-shirt, adorned with a picture of a cat on a skateboard and his jeans with slight tears in the knees proclaimed him to be a skater. She had no idea of who he was at first.
After a brief pause, he continued in response to her unspoken question.
"I'm Billie," he said.
That was informative, but not much. She continued to watch to see what would happen next.
"I thought that you might want to go to a movie or something with me," the boy volunteered, apparently trying to keep the conversation going.
This hit Cyndi like a box of rocks! No one had ever asked her out before. No one. Here she was a Senior in high school and had never been on a real date. Sure, she had been out with groups to pal around, but never a date!
She was momentarily speechless. The boy, Billie, seemed to think this might be the beginnings of a rejection, so he filled the silence again.
"We could just get a burger or ice cream, if you'd rather," he added, somewhat lamely.
Finally finding her voice, Cyndi said, "Oh a movie would be great!"
Billie, obviously relieved, continued, "Oh! Good! Pick you up at six then. Your house." Not waiting for things to go wrong from here, Billie, turned and exited the conversation.
As Billie disappeared down the hall, Cyndi was going over in her mind what she knew about him. She thought that she had heard that he was somewhat of a Player. He had dated lots of girls according to the grapevine. She did not know what he wanted with her, but she was not in the mood to give up this chance for a date.
* * *
Fortunately, her parents did not object to the date, when she got home and explained the trip to the movies to them. Come home right after, was their only instruction. They knew that Cyndi had not been popular in school and hoped that dating a nice boy would get her to leave behind this Goth period that she seemed to be going through.
When 6 o'clock rolled around, she was upstairs in one of her newer Goth outfits, waiting. When the doorbell rang and her father, who had answered the door, called that Billie was here, Cyndi made her entrance descending the stairs slowly to give Billie the full effect. He seemed to like what he saw, never taking his eyes off of her. She ignored her father's slight frown, since it was not accompanied with any admonitions.
The two left the house, agreeing once more to the directive to return right after the movie. Billie opened the door to the car on the passenger side for Cyndi. She got in and slid to the middle of the seat so she would be near Billie when he got in the driver's side. They drove directly to the movie. Billie did not seem interested in making a stop for a coke or burger. Possibly the movie was due to begin soon, Cyndi thought to herself.
* * *
The movie was good. Of course it was the Twilight movie that was out now, that Cyndi had overheard the other girls talking about earlier.
It had indeed begun only minutes after they arrived. Billie had not even stopped at the concession stand for drinks and popcorn, explaining that they did not have time before the show started. Cyndi was sad not to have anything to eat or drink, but said nothing.
The movie lived up to its hype. The dreamy male stars were both handsome and had Cyndi in a romantic mood before the final scene ended. She was convinced that she too was now in a relationship and was floating somewhere up near cloud nine, as she and Billie made their way out of the cinema.
* * *
As they pulled out of the parking lot, Billie said, "That was great!"
Cyndi responded with, "I know! I had heard, but never expected it to be so real. So interesting!"
"You want to stop in Bear Creek Park for a few minutes and talk about it, before I take you home?" Billie asked.
"Oh, I don't know," Cyndi began. "My parents..."
"Only for a couple of minutes," Billie insisted. "We will be back to your house before they know it."
Cyndi agreed with the stop. To tell the truth, she wanted to spend more time with Billie anyway. Her mind was racing with all the thoughts flitting around her head.
Billie pulled his big Chevy sedan into a dark parking spot under a tree at the side of the park and turned off the engine. Looking over at Cyndi, he smiled and, touching her cheek with his left hand, leaned in and kissed her on the mouth.
It was not Cyndi's first kiss. She was a Senior, but the kisses she had before had been with cousins and not at all like this. She leaned into the kiss, her eyes closed.
Cyndi flinched when Billie's hand slid down from her cheek and stopped on the front of her shirt, but she did not break contact. She did not feel right about it. Things seemed to be progressing too quickly for a first date, but she was not going to make waves over this. Ignoring Billie's hand, she reached up with her right hand and touched his cheek like he had touched hers.
Having met no resistance, so far, Billie moved his hand to her waist and slipped under the hem of her t-shirt, before Cyndi knew what was happening. The hand continued upward under the thin material.
This was more than Cyndi was willing to allow. Pulling back, she said, "No, not yet."
"Come on," Billie said quietly. "Just a bit."
"No," she insisted. "Not tonight."
Billie frowned, his face turning a little darker. "Tease!" he accused her. He pushed forward, his bulk forcing her to lean back against the passenger door, his weight partially holding her down. His left hand was now slipping under her short skirt! Things were rapidly getting out of hand.
"No Billie!" she pleaded, "Not now. Not tonight!"
Her words had no effect on the insistent boy. He tore at the leggings that she wore and opened his own jeans as he moved between her flailing legs.
Cyndi's mind was reeling. She had no experience to draw on. She had thought that her evening was going so well and now this! Billie was making disgusting grunting sounds in her ear as he pushed against her with his full weight until suddenly, he pulled all the way back to the other side of the car, crying out like he was in pain.
"You bitch!" he screamed at her. "That wasn't called for. Don't tell me you didn't want it too!"
This was not making any more sense that anything else that had been happening, but at least he was off of her.
"Get out!" Billie hollered. "Get out. I'm telling everyone what a bitch you are."
Billie was putting his jeans and shirt back in order, fuming at her. Flopping back into the drivers' seat he leaned over and pushed at her.
"Get out of the car, I said," he continued to shout. "You will never get another date after all the guys hear about this!"
He leaned over Cyndi and opened the latch on the passenger door, once again pushing at her to force her out.
"But Billie," Cyndi started to wail. The situation was spiraling totally out of control. "You have to take me home!"
With venom in his eyes, Billie responded with a growl, "Not on your life, bitch! Get the hell out of my car!"
Cyndi finally responded to his shoves and exited the car through the open passenger door. She stood there, her clothes in disarray, as he started the car and sped away into the night. She could not believe what had just happened. Such a great time at the movie and now her life was ruined. She would never get another date now. She was not even quite sure what had happened, but it had been awful.
She looked around, not exactly sure where she was. She thought that this park was a little over a mile from her house, but she was not sure. And it was dark! The moon must have been behind the clouds as were all but a few stars which peeked out around the clouds blowing along overhead.
Briefly, the thought occurred to her that this could have been a scene from Twilight, but she did not expect any wolves or vampires to come save her.
There being nothing else to do, she turned her footsteps to what she thought would be the way home. It turned out that it was not. The road turned around a bend between some trees and there was a bridge. She had never known that there was a bridge in this park, but of course, she barely knew anything about the park at all.
Walking out onto the bridge, she stopped half way, pausing to listen to the sound of the water flowing underneath. It had a soothing sound, which her jangled nerves craved. Drawn to the rail by the regular sound the water made lapping against the bridge pilings and the muddy shore, she looked down at the dark river below. It was flowing gently, with small eddies here and there. It seemed peaceful.
She did not see the invisible but dark shapes around her, and she did not actually hear the whispers they told her.
'You messed up now. It's all over for you.' the dark shapes whispered, then continued with, 'Look at that water. It is so peaceful.'
Cyndi did look down at the water again. She climbed over the rail to get a better look.
'Your troubles will be over when you drop into that soft river,' the evil shapes continued to hound her.
* * *
'Wait!' The whispered, but insistent and somewhat compulsive single syllable, which seemed to be a barely audible whisper but at the same time coming from within her head, managed to pierce the fog enclosing Cyndi’s numb thoughts.
Cyndi was currently standing on the 33rd Street Bridge, outside the rail, reaching back with both hands grasping the cold metal bar that kept her from plunging the 200 feet or so into the swirling muddy water of the river below.
A slight, typically dressed teenager of her generation, Cyndi was made up in her goth look. Her short straight black hair kept blowing into her coal dark, heavily mascaraed eyes. A white T-shirt with a stylized cross logo, a short black denim skirt, slightly torn net stockings and heavy black platform shoes completed her “look”.
None of this mattered right now. She had been staring blankly into the dark brown river below trying to decide when to jump. IF was no longer a question, WHEN was what needed to be decided.
Again, that quiet whisper, 'At least tell me your name before you go. People will want to know.'
“No one will want to know,“ Cyndi muttered. “No one cares.”
'Your mother cares.'
”So... Billie doesn’t care. He hates me now.”
Cyndi looked around but saw no one.
“Don’t try to stop me,” she said defiantly.
'I won’t. Your choices are yours,' Mirielle continued to whisper.
Without another word Cyndi slid her right foot forward, her fingers slipping from the rail, and slowly tipped towards the murky water below. Her arms flailed instinctively. She put her legs together and crossed her ankles.
She seemed to be falling both very fast and in slow motion at the same time. The wind rushed by her ears and blew her skirt up immodestly. At the same time, she was aware of everything. She saw the clouds scooting past the half full moon, the ripples in the water rushing up to meet her, and even a bat snagging bugs from the air before her.
In several long heartbeats, during which her stomach started to creep up into her throat, her fall was interrupted by a flash of blinding pain as her right ankle and calf failed under the intense contact with the water. Normally water is very soft but when an object, such as a girl, hits it going close to 100 miles per hour, the water feels as solid as ice. So much for her plan to end it all painlessly, Cyndi thought in the instant that she disappeared into the dark river.
Another result of going into the water was that her skirt which had been flapping, and her T-shirt with it, instantly were pushed up and bunched under her arms.
Depending on your point of view on such things, this could have been either good or bad. Cyndi did not even notice and thus had no opinion, but Mirielle thought, 'Thank God!' She knew that small amounts of air got trapped in the folds of the clothing and would help with buoyancy later.
Next, Cyndi’s mouth failed her. It refused to open and gulp in the foul water so she could at least complete the business of drowning and stop the increasing pain emanating from her leg.
Momentum continued to carry Cyndi down into the depths of the river.
She heard an insistent, 'Hold on!' in her head. A piece of her consciousness wondered how she could still hear that whisper under water, but then after everything else, it seemed normal.
Things got worse. Having finally made it to the bottom of the river, she once again got a searing jolt of pain as her injured legs struck something, hard and unyielding, then more than half dazed, she started to float back to the surface.
She was weightless, drifting slowly upward. Lights were flashing inside her eyes but beginning to get dimmer and focusing to a smaller and smaller point. Cyndi knew that she was starting to lose consciousness and thought, “So it will finally end…”
'Fight! Swim!' The voice urged again. 'Kick your good leg! Use your arms!'
Cyndi‘s lungs were bursting with the need to gulp in air but her mouth steadfastly refused to take in the river instead. She could taste the foul muddy water through clenched lips.
After what seemed an eternity, Cyndi’s head broke through the surface and her lips finally parted to gulp in a huge lungful of fresh air. Despite the smell coming from the river, it was the sweetest, freshest air she had ever had.
'Swim! Swim for the shore!' The voice commanded. Cyndi could only manage a weak flopping of her arms.
'I am sorry,' Mirielle whispered.
”You don’t have anything to be sorry about. I’m the one that jumped. “Cyndi responded weakly.
'Actually, I AM sorry about that. And I am also sorry that you made the same choice that I did. '
'BUT, mostly what I meant was that I am sorry that I let you down,' Mirielle said. 'If I had not interfered with Billie, I could help you get to shore now.'
”What?!?” Cyndi stammered, bubbly, as her mouth dipped below the water. “Like you chose? Interfered with Billie? You weren’t there. What are you talking about? Why do you care? Why can’t I SEE you?”
'First off, I care a lot about you. Why would I be here if I did not? Your mother cares. Lots of people care about you and would be hurt if you died. So just DEAL with that!' Mirielle replied a bit snappishly.
'Secondly, you cannot see me because I was there with you and Billie and I messed up,' Mirielle continued. 'That is what I am apologizing about.'
'I am a Messenger and I can only make myself corporal, which means to make myself flesh to where you can see me, if I use a lot of energy and I did that with Billie. I was not supposed to but I did.'
Cyndi was helplessly confused. Her mind struggled to recall the events earlier in the evening when she and Billie were necking in his car. He had wanted more than she wanted to allow. He had forced himself on her, then suddenly yelled and pulled away accusing HER of hurting HIM of all things. What Cyndi didn’t know was that Billie had heard a low guttural whisper, almost a growl, just before he pulled away from her, “Never without permission!”
'Yes, that was me. Mirielle admitted. 'When he violated you, I made my hand flesh and squeezed hard in a delicate place and he had second thoughts. I just could not watch and do nothing. I could not let him cause you to be with child.'
'So now I have no more energy for a while to help pull you to shore. You’re going to have to do it. '
While Mirielle had been talking, Cyndi’s weak strokes, helped greatly by the eddies at a fortunate bend in the river, guided her to the bank. At Mirielle urging, Cyndi managed to pull herself through the weeds at the edge of the water on rubbery arms and flop panting into the tall grass.
When she could breathe easy enough again to speak, she asked, “What did you mean about making the same choice you did?”
'I too was violated by a boy that I admired. Nathaniel was his name. I was young and naïve in the ways of men. He always seemed so polite and gentlemanly, until he was not. It was in the barn behind my father’s house. No one was there to stop him. I became with child and I could not see any way out or any reason to go on so I jumped,' Mirielle explained. 'Now I am a Messenger. I try to help others. '
”You mean that you’re an angel?” Cyndi asked in awe.
'No,' Mirielle answered. 'Not like you mean. Angels do not really exist like the stories and movies show them.'
'Probably someone did meet a Messenger once and people confused their story until it became about this holy winged person.' She continued. 'A Messenger is supposed to carry a message of love and understanding, but not interfere as I did. I am afraid that is why I have so little energy to turn corporal. I cannot help interfering.'
”You are telling me that I get help from an angel and my angel is just a TRAINEE?” Cyndi blurted out.
'So…not an angel, but yes not fully a Messenger either. Sorry.'
'I jumped from the Brooklyn Bridge a few years after it was completed. I am still working on becoming a proper Messenger. Us Messengers are usually souls who need to atone for mistakes,' Mirielle continued to explain.
Then Mirielle added, 'When that Infidel came and urged you to jump, I was not strong enough to get you to stop and think for yourself. I saw it push your foot and tug you to start your fall. They do not have constraints about physically interfering as we do. That is why I could help you get out of the river, since it was not your choice to actually jump.'
”What?! Insidell?” Cyndi mumbled.
'Infidel,' Mirielle went on. 'They actually call themselves something else but it is a word in an alien tongue and does not translate well. I think Infidel suits them quite well though. They are working against the greater good instead of for it as are we Messengers. Most of them are souls who died badly such as by torture or the poor girls who were killed for witchcraft.'
Cyndi could not think of anything else to say to this flood of information. Her mouth opened and closed but no words came out.
'Right! I think I hear someone up there. I will go see if I can get you some help,' Mirielle said.
Cyndi could feel the air softly caress her cheeks as Mirielle moved away.
Mirielle found a young man walking alone along the sidewalk about 100 yards away. He was clearly not part of the “in” crowd since he was walking alone in the park on a Friday night.
She whispered in his mind, 'What was that sound? Better check the river!'
Kevin Dobbs wondered for a moment why he would be thinking such thoughts but then decided that he really should take a look. He couldn’t hear anyone calling but he did seem to remember a sound and someone could be in trouble. He walked closer to the river and thought that, yes, he could see something. He could not tell what, but something.
There was a gap where the reeds on the bank were flattened. There seemed to be a dark shadow there that could not be accounted for by the moonlight.
He moved forward. “Is somebody there?” he called. “Hello?”
Then he saw that there was a body lying there. As he quickly moved closer, he could see that it was a young girl. “Are you all right?” he asked as he rushed the last few feet to try to help.
”My leg,” Cyndi said weakly. “It broke, I think.”
Kevin looked quickly around. The only thing he could think of was to carry the dripping girl to his car. It would just take too long to get help to her.
”I’m going to pick you up. I’ll try the best I can not to hurt you .”
”Go ahead,” Cyndi replied weakly.
Stepping into the grass to get the best angle to lift her without unnecessary pressure on the injured leg, he was heedless of the cold water of the river squishing into his shoe. Sliding his arms under Cyndi’s slim frame, he raised her up gently and was glad she seemed to weigh almost nothing. He had a ways to go to get to his car. Cindi’s arms circled around Kevin’s shoulders and neck to help support herself.
Cyndi heard the voice in her ear one last time. 'Don’t worry. You’re in good hands now. I am leaving now, but will be watching. I am your Messenger now.'
As Kevin carried her up to the sidewalk, he looked at her face with the dripping hair framing it and suddenly realized that he knew this girl.
”Hey, you’re Cyndi. We have a class together.” He had always thought that she was cute and out of his league but at the same time a bit of a sad loner type.
We will leave Cyndi’s story at this point, but her story was far from over.
Epilogue
As you would expect, Kevin took Cyndi to the hospital emergency room, where she was treated and recovered. Her family was very relieved that she had been rescued and Cyndi became more involved with her family having realized its importance in her life. She never did meet Mirielle again, but she was sure that she felt her influence in her life.
Cyndi went on to marry Kevin and they had three wonderful children, one of whom grew up to help discover a cure for diabetes. It was good that she had not chosen a permanent solution to a temporary problem.
Author Notes: This is the first in my series of stories about Messengers, a group of ethereal beings, somewhat like angels, who strive to help those in need.
United States • 75 years old