ANGELS OF HOPE

By

Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

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Contents

Volume One

1. Born Again

2. Angels of Hope Books 1 to 7

3. Life on the Edge

4. Jael at the Fair

5. After the Fair

6. Life in Summervale

7. Ménage a Trois

8. Lightning Strikes Twice

9. The Dark Side of Gloryel

10. A Day of Fantasy

11.Life Goes One

12. The Dark Saber

13. Human Touch

14. An Age of Glory

15. Gloryel and Daniel

16. Summation, Completion, the Entirety of the Principle

Angels of Hope

Born Again

Prologue

And so, a long rest had come to the father of Glory. A long, long, long, long, long, long rest. His children slumbered all this time in his heart, resting away, dreaming their dreams, silently and at peace in the still of God’s eternal spirit.

They had been the children of destiny and, in truth, destiny did not really die. But something new was to come now. They were to be angels born anew, born again to a new hope. Yes, Angels of Hope, longing for a better day in which the darkness would be ultimately vanquished and the peace and joy of God would reign eternal. And this time, a new firstborn. Gabriel. Gabriel would be the ultimate child of the diamond cities of heaven, firstborn son of his glory, firstborn angel of hope.

Chapter One

Gabriel looked out over the diamond city of Joniquay, a city of Glory. He stood atop the uppermost tower of Joniquay, the tower of divine rulership, were council was held. Here the 70 Seraphim Male angels held council, discussing affairs of the realm. And, of course, the adversary, the dark lord Satan contended with them in Council, speaking his adversarial will in the power the Almighty Father had granted him. Satan, with his flock of dark angels. Devoted to the power of the dark, yet not evil, so they continued to maintain. Not evil, but the ways of challenging the simplicity and stupidity of their hated opponents.

His twin sister and lover, Aquariel, longed for him to come and caress her. She lay out on a suite, not far off, signalling him to come and show her affection. But he would not. For thoughts were on his mind. Thoughts of the dark lord. He sensed, now, a confrontation was coming. A confrontation with Satan wherein he would challenge for authority over the entire realm of heaven.

Council the other night had been challenging. Satan had spoken of the need for new rulership in heaven, citing so called claims from many quarters of Gabriel’s apparent failings. Of course, Gabriel knew Satan simply wanted the authority for himself, such being the evil malevolence of that lord of the dark. And Gabriel would not relent, naturally, of his birthright, his position as firstborn.

But he worried on Satan, on the dark choices his adversary might one day make in opposition to himself, and the woe which could come on heaven because of it.

He looked at Aquariel who was still beckoning him and, deciding to be attentive to his lover, came to her and caressed her with the affection she sought from him.

Chapter Two

The dark lord, Satan, Lord of Evil, surveyed the council room before him. Time to act. Time to be decisive. Time to challenge.

‘Gabriel. You are thick. Stupid. Dumb. You do not know how to handle the ever expanding population of heaven, for it is beyond your dim capabilities. Council, do I not speak rightly?’

‘Why do you insult him,’ spoke a counsellor on Gabriel’s behalf.

‘Yes. Show some respect for your senior brother. He has ruled well,’ said another.

But as Satan glared at them, figures within the assembly, figures which had made dark choices, stood, and made there way to stand with Satan. A third of the council stood with the dark lord. Gabriel glared at him. ‘It has come to this, has it Satan.’

‘We shall go our own way, Gabriel. We will heed you not.’ And he turned and left, his dark flock following.

Chapter Three

The coup lasted 4 days, and Satan’s forces, eventually defeated, were decimated on the final day’s battle. The Angels of Hope took hold of Satan and his minions and, when Gabriel stood in front of them on the plane of decision, the voice of God spoke.

‘HE HAS JUDGED HIMSELF BY HIS OWN ACTIONS. A PLACE HAS BEEN PREPARED FOR HIM.’

And then, in the valley of decision, a chasm opened up, an abyss to the netherworld, and Gabriel had all Satan’s minions tied by their wings, and then, sensing God’s will, had them cast into the abyss. And they fell, for how long Gabriel knew not, yet the abyss shuddered closed, and the judgement of Satan had come to pass.

Heaven healed after that, and Gabriel worries were less. But he was anxious, never the less, and worried about what would happen should Satan ever return. But such worries were for another day. Such worries were for a future time. For his adversary was now gone, and heaven could rest once more and live the joy that their heavenly father had placed in their hearts for them all to live. Purest joy which gave them hope. So much hope.

The End

Angels of Hope

Book One

“Angel of Glory”

By Daniel Thomas Andrew Daly

He shone, as brightly as the sun. As brightly as the dawning of a brand new day. He was the Angel of Glory, the Archangel Gabriel, God’s favoured son and the Glory of God’s most precious heart. And he shone – oh, how he shone. Heaven was something to behold. Something very special to behold, flying above the Diamond cities, hundreds of metres high, their radiant glory shimmering throughout the whole realm. Heaven, the pinnacle of God’s design, home to trillions upon trillions of angels and humans, all living in peace and harmony with each other, loving their beloved God and father who had brought them to be to enjoy such beauty and splendour. And highest angel of all, Gabriel, the chief Angel and special messenger of God the most high.

But Gabriel was saddened. Despite the glory which he enjoyed each and every day there was a part in his heart which could find no peace. A part which could find no consolation. For his beloved younger brother, secondborn of the angels of heaven, dearest Michael – Michael was gone. Long missing from heaven, presumed kidnapped by the dark lord himself. And Gabriel wept at nights, his misery great, but God would not console him and when he prayed to his eternal father all God would say that Michael was were Michael had to be, and that Gabriel must go onwards, ever onwards, into the eternal future before him.

He flew downwards, coming near a park full of oak trees, and landed. Jael was sitting on a park bench, his younger angelic sister, and smiled at him as he approached. She opened her bag, pulled out a small bottle of juice and handed it to him which he drank thankfully. ‘Thank you dear Jael. It is just what I really needed.’

‘Dear Gabriel. We love you, greatly. But we miss him. Oh, how we miss Michael. Can you not persuade our father to tell you were he is? Can you not persuade our loved creator to guide you to our missing one, the one we long for, to touch and hold again.’

Gabriel sat down next to Jael on the bench and she laid her head against his shoulder. ‘I know dear sister of the longing in your heart. I feel yours and so many of the brethren’s longing each and every day. But father is insistent. Michael is gone from us, gone were he needs to be, gone to some other realm, some other eternity, some other plane of existence. But have no fear, dear sister, for I am with you. And I will always be with you, to comfort you, to love you, to lead you on in our eternal future. I am with you and will not abandon you, dear sister.’

‘You give me hope, Gabriel. So much hope. And I love you for it, indeed I do. Yet if only Michael were with us. If only our beloved brother would return to us, would come back to heaven, to soar once more in the heights of heaven and enjoy the love and peace of our divine fellowship.’

‘If only,’ responded the Archangel, comforting his sister.

* * *

Ramiel was pleased. Very pleased. Michael was in danger, now – grave danger. Of the 700 Angels of Light which had joined Michael in the war with the sons of Darkness, they had killed over 300 now. And there own forces still numbered just over 1000. Satan himself would be pleased with their work.

But despite the pleasure in his heart, despite the power he enjoyed partaking of, there was something within Ramiel, some tiny little voice right at the back of his mind, some tiny little voice which said, ‘Remember your glories, remember your passions for love and truth, remember your love towards the one who created you.’ And despite trying to shrug off each and every day these voices, Ramiel could not. He simply could not. And now, despite the very pleasure in his heart towards the defeated angels of light he had fought for so long now, a choice had come to his mind. And sitting there, in an alcove of darkness, in the heart of hell, he came to his conclusion. And then, careful not to be seen, he walked out of the alcove, came to the cavern of hell, and flew upwards. He flew upwards and upwards, ever upwards, his destination sure in his mind. For he knew were the Angels of Light resided, and he would fly up, now, to do what was seemingly once unthinkable. He would join the Angels of Light, for the Light he once so greatly disdained had penetrated his heart, and he would now let the God of infinite glory rule him once more, and see just what peace and joys that would give the heart of Ramiel the Seraphim.

* * *

Michael was weary. He was hungry, thirsty and he missed home. Yet he was committed, so committed, to the task God had assigned him. And to win the ultimate respect of his brother Gabriel he must complete the task and defeat once and for all the Angels of Darkness. For if they were to ever once more penetrate heaven – well, only chaos would result.

His followers were dedicated to him now. Deeply devoted and loving towards their leader. So many had died in their wars, but they would not give in. They would not surrender. They were here, trapped in Purgatory, half way between heaven and hell, serving in the duties which God had assigned to them. And until the last demon had been slain they would not be allowed home, such being the mission they had accepted, such being the price of the glory they craved. But Michael knew they missed home, that they missed home greatly. And he continued to pray each and every night in their age long struggle with the dark ones that God would comfort his friends and give them the peace of heart they so desperately needed.

· * *

Gabriel sat with Jael in Joniquay tower, the chief tower of the Diamond city of Joniquay. They had been in prayer that morning and Gabriel had sensed something. Some words from his God were written in his mind now and Jael had said she also felt such words being carved into her mind. And as they sat on the couches, concentrating on letting the words come forth from their minds onto their tongues, a spirit suddenly came forth from before them, grabbed them and lifted them upwards, and the words were uttered from their throats, seeing them in their minds in letters of golden flame. ‘The Final Battle Awaits. Go ye now, meet with the ones you seek with your whole heart, and take you the legion of heaven. For the dark ones punishment has long slumbered.’

And then, dropping to the ground, Gabriel looked at Jael stunned. ‘Michael?’ said Jael. ‘We are going to meet Michael, at last.’

Gabriel nodded. Such seemed to be the case.

· * *

‘Very well, Ramiel. We accept your repentance. We accept your words and that you have indeed forsaken the way of evil, returning to the light.’

Ramiel took Michael’s hand, shook it and said, ‘I am so very grateful, Michael. For I could no longer, no longer serve him. For the price was becoming too high and the way of light was becoming too strong in its love for me to ignore. I am in your service and will faithfully follow you.’

‘Then we have greater hope, now, Ramiel, in our war with the darkness. We have greater hope.’

‘And with that hope we shall triumph,’ responded Ramiel.

‘Let us hope so,’ responded Michael. ‘Let us hope so.’

THE END

* * *

Angels of Hope

Book Two

“An Angel Undefeated”

By Daniel

Radrius surveyed the scene before him. He was currently in Hell, at an unguarded outpost of the Sons of Darkness. From what he could see there were about a dozen of the Sons of Darkness at this post. There was an extensive food garden were they obviously grew the food they ate and a number of other minor shacks besides the largest one were he sensed the majority were currently at slumber. ‘Perhaps 50 of them, tops,’ he thought to himself. Far to many for him to handle alone, but upon his return to Michael he could let him know of this outpost and they could come in forces, slay the demons, and achieve a major victory over their opponents. He carefully retreated from his hiding position when, suddenly, a demonic voice yelled and, the demons having spied him, about 7 or 8 of them started giving chase. Radrius heart beated wildly – he was now in for the flight of his life – and to be an Angel Undefeated he would have to fly like the wind or taste bitter death at the hands of his malevolent foes.

* * *

Michael stood at the pinnacle of Purgatory and looked downwards, into the vast world of Purgatory below. In this giant realm trillions upon trillions of angels and humans were going through repentance, learning the lessons which the Most High was teaching them as necessary to be able to return to the heavenly abode for the angels and enter for the first time, usually, for the humans. Michael and his assembly of Angels were stationed at the top of purgatory, there base, from were they engaged in war with the sons of darkness, many miles beneath purgatory in Hell. In the depths of Hell were numbers beyond imagining of lost souls who had made the final and ultimate choice of evil, never to return to the ways of goodness and light. Michael pitied them but realized such had been their eternal choice.

Giant shafts went downwards from the top of purgatory to its nether regions, scattered here and there throughout the enormous realm which was trillions of miles in diameter. Michael and his forces usually travelled down the primary central shaft when engaging in their warfare with evil. But they had security sensors which monitored all the other shafts to alert them to any attempts by the sons of darkness to escape hell and fly through purgatory to the one and only single shaft above purgatory leading to heaven above. But while Michael doubted strongly, should he and his angels ever be defeated, that Satan’s forces would have the power to go through the gate of eternity at the top of that shaft, he would take no chances and continued to keep his position atop the centre of purgatory to guard heaven from the sons of evil. Yet, he believed, an end was coming to the conflict one day. An end in which he would hopefully be the victor and then, finally, return to his beloved brethren in heaven, and find the peace and consolation he so desperately missed.

* * *

Radrius was scared. He was hidden in a cavern beneath the nether regions of purgatory, but he knew his pursuers were all over the place, searching viciously for him. If he moved from his position it could mark his final moments. He lay there, breathing heavily, exhausted after his long flight. He thought on home above, at the top of purgatory, and the pleasant array of foods awaiting him, for he was suddenly quite hungry. Michael and his angels flew in through one of the gateways into purgatory to harvest food from the many gardens scattered here and there throughout the edges of purgatory, in special zones restricted from the rest of Purgatory’s inhabitants. Those zones had been put in place long ago for reasons their heavenly father would never specify, but they did provide Radrius and his companions with their daily sustenance.

He was thirsty, now, and thought if he could escape his followers he would fly into purgatory, into one of the zones, and find some water and drink. But for now he would exercise caution, be patient, and let his pursuers move on.

* * *

Gabriel looked at the Legion of Heaven assembled. They had been permitted to only take the First Legion of Heaven – 1000 brave Warrior Angels – but that had been God’s wisdom, and thus would it be. He knew many of them by name, personal friends after aeons of friendships. They were brave souls. Brave and true, and soon, very soon, after God had given them the date for their departure, they would fly down to purgatory, meet with Michael and his Angels, and then engage in the final dark and bitter war with the Sons of Darkness. It would be a battle to remembered, Gabriel thought to himself, and thanked his God silently that the fate of that war was already known.

* * *

The one solitary demon who had remained searching the caverns had spied him as he had tried to escape and now Radrius was engaged in combat with this demon, each of their swords drawn, circling and looking at each other with unveiled hostility. ‘You will die, Angel scum,’ said the demon with pure evil in his voice.

‘Not before I have scattered your fowl carcass remains to the pits of despair, devilspawn.’

And then the fight began, swords clashing, egos fighting and suddenly, blood. Blood spurting from Radrius’ shoulder, and an agonizing angelic scream echoing through purgatory. Radrius backed off, holding his right shoulder with his left hand, but knew he would have to go through the paint to survive. The Demon grinned at him, flew into the air and lunged down at him, but Radrius had a move prepared. As soon as the demon was about to strike, he lunged sideways, grabbed the demon, through him at the ground and the demon thumped into the dirt. He was dazed, about to get up, when angelic steal pierced his heart and screaming obscenities at Radrius, he departed from his life, off to Sheol, the world of the dead.

Radrius held his shoulder tenderly, almost wanting to cry, but he was proud right then – so proud. He was an Angel undefeated, and could boast to Michael of one more fallen demon – one less enemy of the sons of darkness they would now need to confront.

THE END

* * *

Angels of Hope

Book Three

“An Angel of Valour”

By Daniel

Radrukiel, bravest of the warrior Angels in the Camp of Michael who was the Secondborn Archangel of Heaven, the Angel Radrukiel respected most of all, surveyed the battle scene in front of him. 7 Angels had fallen, slain by the Demons of Hell, but the battle was progressing well, all things considered. For in their strength they had slain over 50 of the Demonic spawns, Ramiel’s tactics working true wonders on their foes. And now, now it was time for the Angel of Valour, Radrukiel himself, as per Michael’s planning, to enter they fray and wreak havoc on the forces of evil. He readied his sword of power, sharpened nightly for the past three weeks, and took to the skies, a harbinger of death upon his bittermost foes.

* * *

Kalzaxriel fought bitterly and long against Radrukiel, but Satan’s chief most warrior, the most vicious of the demons of hell, finally fell, slain by the sword of power Radrukiel wielded. As he lay there, deaths hand starting to enshroud his soul, he thought one last thought on the life he had lived and the commitments to Satan he had made and then, breathing his last, died and felt his soul and spirit fall ever downwards to the neverending death of the pit of Sheol.

* * *

Michael watched as nearly the remainder of the demon’s fled the battle scene, returning to the pits of Hell, to their dark Lord Satan. And then, seeing a few foolish demons fight on against Radrukiel, determined to slay him, he called the Angels to himself to watch the entertainment.

As they watched Radrukiel fought with skill and determination, making cut after cut on fowl demon flesh, one by one sending them down to Sheol. Finally, facing the last of the demons, Radrukiel rushed forward, plunging his sword of Glory into the chest of the demon who cried fowl obscenities and collapsed to the ground. Radrukiel wiped his brow, wiping of the sweat, turned and looked at Michael and the Angels and came over. ‘You could have helped me finish them off,’ complained Radrukiel.

‘And not enjoy the master at work?’ replied Michael. ‘Nay, you have given us the greatest of entertainments I tell you, for we were certain that you would not fall.’

‘Aye, we were certain,’ replied another angel, those words then echoed by the others.

‘Shall we pursue them now,’ asked Ramiel. ‘And bring a final end to this conflict once and forever?’

Michael considered that but replied, ‘Nay. The time is not right. For they still have the numbers and in Hell they will have all the advantage of their home turf. Nay, the time is not yet right. But soon, brothers. Soon. Soon we will have our vengeance and be returned to heaven, our home of glory, returning in splendid magnificence, praised by all I do hope.’

‘Aye,’ said the angels as one.

* * *

Gabriel sat with Jael in Joniquay tower, reading the Book of the Divine Creator, the holy text of the Angels of Hope. Jael spoke up. ‘I full well know the power of evil and darkness, Gabriel. I full well know that Satan is the lord of evil and would destroy and kill us all if he could have his way. But for us to cast him down to death, the pit of Sheol. Well, is that not a great punishment? Is that not such a great punishment, perhaps, even to great for the evil of even Satan?’

Gabriel comforted Jael, putting his arm around her shoulders. ‘The ways of the Most High are often difficult to fathom, Jael. Often difficult and hard to discern in right and truthful understanding. But we must trust our divine creator, mustn’t we? For in the love and devotion to goodness and truth we show each other and our God he continues to bless us. And we know this to be the truth, that goodness must prevail, for there is no peace in the heart of the wicked. No peace, no rest, no quiet consolation. For the heart of darkness has abandoned the love of its creator, preferring instead the heart of its own pride, as if it were something of Glory, some great thing which it had created of its own merit. The judgement upon Satan is just and proper, Jael. And when he tastes ultimate death, well, he will know he has been responsible for his own state of darkness. But, one day, I could speculate. Perhaps an eternity from now, after his suffering of his punishment has been duly completed. Well, perhaps then, in the repentance which we may one day hope finds home in his heart. Well then he may once again know the ways of life and love. But of such mysteries only God himself has the answer dear Jael. Only God has the answers.’

She nodded, consoled somewhat, and stared at the fireplace on the wall facing them burn its bright flames, her heart lost in the flames, thoughts of Satan disappearing with the smoke.

* * *

The Angel of Valour, coming into his abode in the Angelic Keep atop Purgatory, laid his sword down in its scabbard aside his bed, and laid down, closing his eyes. His thoughts were on the final battle which they had been discussing on the way home. On the final battle and, what were in Radrukiel’s plans, his idea to confront Satan himself and slay that dark lord. He knew Michael himself might desire such glory, but Radrukiel desired such glory likewise. Such glory for his name in vanquishing the power of darkness once and forever. But, despite his intentions to defeat the lord of the fowl, there was a voice in his heart now, a voice which said ‘bloody men rarely find rest for their souls.’ And Radrukiel listened to that voice as he lay there, considering the wisdom perchance it offered. Satan was evil, he knew that much, but perhaps to delight in the slaying of that fowl lord, as if such a slaying brought glory, well perhaps, as the voice suggested, that was just vainglory. A glory born of evil rather than good, not realizing that evil must simply be vanquished because of what it represented, and not vanquished as if some great glory and pride were associated with those who withstood its fowl power. And in such a conviction Radrukiel found slumber, drifting off to the realm of dreams, perhaps a newer understanding on the virtue of goodness entering his soul.

THE END

* * *

Angels of Hope

Book Four

“The Angel and the Devil”

By Daniel

Shadray was a holy Angel. In fact, according to Michael’s own words, of all the angels in his group Shadray was deemed the holiest of all the Angels. And Shadray, after words with Radrukiel on the vanity of trying to gain glory from destroying evil, had decided it was time to consider implementing his long held plan – teaching repentance to Satan himself in the hope that evil would be vanquished with new hope for goodness, rather than the final measure they had resorted to.

He had studied the Books of the Divine Creator for so long now and felt, now, it was time to pursue his dream of sanctifying Satan to the hope of his restoration. As he exited the Angelic keep atop of purgatory, no other angel bothering to ask him of his purposes, Shadray came to the edge of the keep, flew to the great shaft, and fell. He fell, soaring downwards, ever downwards, towards the pit of hell and, hopefully, the redemption of their greatest and most evil foe.

* * *

Jael was distraught. Totally beside herself, and as Gabriel inquired whatever the matter could be, all she would say that there was a conflict coming – a dreadful conflict – in which evil would unleash its greatest power, never yet unleashed. And as she trembled before him Gabriel could only wonder what on earth she meant.

* * *

Shadray gazed at the cavern of hell from atop the barrier between hell and purgatory. In the centre of the enormous domain of hell lay the Grand Castle of Damnation, as it had come to be called. In the castle of the damned were the spawns of Satan, and Satan himself, hidden somewere amongst its many horrible and crooked pathways. It was now or never Shadray thought to himself as he flew downwards and, landing at the entrance to the castle, sucked in a breath, and entered the hallways of the damned.

* * *

‘I just can’t find him anywhere, Michael. He has disappeared.’ Michael looked alarmed at Radrukiel’s words, wondering where on earth Shadray could have possibly disappeared to. ‘Well, I am sure he will turn up eventually, Radrukiel. I am sure he will turn up eventually.’

* * *

As he walked along the fowl smelling corridors, heading inwards, Shadray thought on his mission ahead of him. Preaching the knowledge of the Divine Creator would surely convert the heart of Satan. It surely would. But he remembered, all those aeons ago, the time when Satan rebelled against God and led astray numerous angels who fell into demonic form. It had been a horrible battle in those days before Satan was vanquished, cast down to hell. And then, when Satan had broken through to Purgatory, headed upwards to wreak his vengeance on heaven, Shadray had volunteered alongside Michael to fight the forces of darkness. But now, his hope was in this final message of repentance and love he intended to preach to Satan, that a better solution – a solution of hope and peace – would be chosen. A solution in the best interests of everyone.

Turning a corner, he came to a large room were three demons were sitting at a table, eating meat and drinking. One of them spied him quickly and yelled ‘We are under attack.’ But Shadray rose his hands and said, ‘I come in peace. To see Satan. To talk with him. Nobody is with me.’ The demons came forward, grabbed him, and looked in the corridor to see if he was accompanied. One of the demons said, ‘take him to Satan. If he is foolish enough to come alone he may as well be Satan’s fun for the afternoon.’

The demon grabbed Shadray, propelled him forwards, and they started walking further into the heart of the Castle of the damned.

* * *

Jael was shivering. ‘It is nearly time, Gabriel. The time of destruction is nearly here. We must be prepared, for I fear heaven is about to feel the wrath of evil. We must inform everyone. We must.’

‘But of what, Jael. You have given me no idea of what lies ahead. What must I inform them of?’

‘Just warn them to be ready, Gabriel. Just warn them to be ready.’

‘Very well.’

* * *

Shadray stood before the throne of evil, looking intently at Satan who gazed down at him. ‘Repent, Shadray? You want me to repent and accept the ways of love and goodness? Heh heh heh. Surely you jest, young fool.’

‘Nay, I jest not, lord of the dark. For the war is ending, as you know. We will soon have the upper hand over your minions, of that you can not possibly doubt. And then repentance will be no longer available to you, for you will surely taste the sword of angelic fury. I plead with you Satan, one final and ultimate time. Repent of your evil and accept the goodness of God. I am without doubt that in his mercy, with your repentance being complete, he will allow you back into heaven. You simply need to trust in the Lord.’

Satan laughed, a wicked laugh, and then made a decision he had been waiting for the right time to make. ‘Lucifer,’ he said, to a demon nearby. ‘It is time. It is time for their destruction. We need not wait any longer for we have enough resources now. The attack is to be launched, now.’

‘Yes, my master,’ responded the demon Lucifer.

‘Oh,’ said Satan, ‘Take this Shadray along with you. Let his sit and watch the destruction. It should prove most entertaining viewing for him.’

‘As you wish, my master.’ Lucifer came forward and grabbed Shadray, who turned to look at Satan and sensed, right there and then, that the final fate of the Lord of Evil had come to pass. But so be it, he thought to himself. So be it.

THE END

* * *

Angels of Hope

Book Five

“The Angel and the Scroll of Evil”

By Daniel

Ambriel took the scroll from the shelf, finally satisfied that the time was at hand. For 15,000 years he had waited for this day. Waited anxiously, preparing himself and his words for what he would say to Gabriel with the news of the words of the scroll. And now, with the announcement going through heaven that Jael had received a haunting premonition of evil to come, Ambriel knew the time was now to share with Gabriel the words of the scroll. The words of the scroll of evil.

* * *

Radrukiel heard it first, the thunderous noise coming from below, and after summoning Michael and the others, they flew to the edge of the great shaft and gazed downwards. Lights were shining from down below, down near the bottom of purgatory, gradually rising upwards. And the noise from around these lights was getting gradually louder and louder, an ominous sound of chaos approaching. Radrius turned to Michael and spoke. ‘I don’t know what the hell is coming up here, Mike. But it looks like Hell itself, if you take my meaning.’ Michael stared downwards, a little scared, a little more scared than he had ever been in his life, and made a quick decision. ‘Quickly now, follow me. Quickly, mind you.’ As he led the way they flew to another shaft descending downwards, and waited at the edge, staring towards the central shaft. Michael spoke. ‘After they have come up they will destroy our keep. And I fear, now, they will break through to the heavenlies. We will wait to see what manner of beast is rising and then descend to one of purgatories outer zones until they have risen to attack heaven.’

‘How do you know heaven is their target?’ asked Radrukiel.

‘I know Satan, Radrukiel. I know Satan.’

As they watched on, the noise getting louder and louder, the beast indeed did arrive. A ship – a beast of a mechanical ship, hovering on fans blowing downwards to lift it. And on that ship were large cannons, too many too count, vicious looking weapons as far as Michael could discern. As they watched the ship approached the Angelic keep atop purgatory and from the large cannons exploded bolts of metal, tearing into the Angelic Keep and obliterating it. And then a stream of flame burst forth from one of the cannons, engulfing the keep, the heat even noticeable from the distance Michael and his Angels were hiding at. And then, as the Angels watched on, the beast rose upwards, ever upwards, to the barrier of heaven. And then, a huge explosion, and then the barrier was torn asunder, and the beast continued its deadly rise.

Michael turned to his group. ‘Come, we rest in purgatory for the remainder of the day. Tomorrow we will re-enter heaven and see just what destruction that fowl beast has wrought.

* * *

As Gabriel finished reading the scroll of evil he looked at Ambriel, now understanding more clearly Jael’s premonition. ‘Then we have but a few hours left until this beast is here to wreak Satan’s vengeance.’

‘Yes,’ responded Ambriel. And as the scroll maintains, there is but one avenue available for defeating the beast. A dreadful choice we all must assent to.’

‘Then it shall be as such,’ responded Gabriel. ‘It shall be as such.’

* * *

The beast arose from purgatory and, on the outer edge of the Diamond Cities, began destroying them with it furious power. Not only did flame and metal come forth, but red beams of light at intense energy, which ripped apart all that stood in its way. Humans and Angels screamed and died and as Gabriel became aware of the Beast’s presence he prepared his heart for the decision he must soon make. The ultimate sacrifice to save those he cared for with all his heart.

* * *

Michael stood on the brink of the barrier, looking out over heaven. It was, indeed, good to be home, even if it had come at such a high price. The group looked in the distance and saw the first of the Diamond Cities burning in flame. The Beast had indeed wreaked havoc and Michael knew they must now fly directly home, directly home to Joniquay, to join Gabriel in the final battle with the sons of Darkness. ‘Come, let us fly,’ said Michael, motioning to his Angels to follow him. As they flew past the first Diamond city, the sights to horrible to comprehend, Michael silently swore to himself that Satan, now, would taste dark vengeance. Satan, now, would know the wrath of Archangel Michael. A wrath he would never forget.

THE END

* * *

Angels of Hope

Book Six

“The Angel and the Dark Lord”

By Daniel

‘Raphael. I am afraid we have no other choice and, as third-born, gifted with the greatest speed of any of us, you must face this task with all the braveness and courage you can possibly muster.’

Raphael was scared at Gabriel’s words but, looking around the room of desperate angels and men, he knew he must comply. For the Beast had destroyed, now, countless of the Diamond Cities and their fate seemed sealed. Sealed unless Raphael could complete this most dangerous and daring of tasks.

‘Very well, Gabriel. I will accept this commission. But as I fly, pray for me. Pray that our heavenly father will grant me speed.’

‘We will, Raphael. We will.’

* * *

Satan stood in the front deck of the Beast, surveying the destruction in front of him. Another of the Diamond cities had fallen and they were getting closer and closer to Joniquay. His vengeance was being satiated and he was supremely happy. He looked over at Shadray, looking depressed, watching the havoc in front of him. ‘I hope you are enjoying the destruction, Shadray.’

‘You are evil, Satan. You are evil.’

‘Yes, I know.’ And the beast of death continued onwards in its devastating pathway of destruction.

* * *

‘This is it,’ said Ambriel, handing Raphael the sword. ‘The Sword of the day of Judgement. The sword which represents God’s final vengeance upon sin and lawlessness.’

‘And what do I do with it, Ambriel?’

‘All I can say is you will know what to do when the time is right. That is all I can say.’

Raphael took the sword, swung it around, and sheathed it in the scabbard at his waist. ‘Then we go to slay evil,’ said Raphael, and Ambriel nodded grimly.

* * *

‘There it is master, Joniquay. Capital of Heaven,’ said Lucifer, pointing to the Diamond City afore them. Satan grinned to himself. ‘At last. Our final vengeance will be completed.’ Yet, just then, in front of the beast, an Angel appeared. An angel wielding a sword. Satan looked at the angel and signalled for the beast to halt. ‘Let us go confront this fool,’ said Satan to Lucifer.

As they flew out to meet Raphael, Raphael steadied himself. When Satan neared he knew instantly it was his close brother from childhood, Raphael, and sneered at him. ‘So the mighty Raphael has come to defeat the forces of darkness with a simple sword and no help. Perhaps his pride has finally defeated him.’

‘Mock if you will, fowl lord of darkness. Yet you will taste death this day, and regret your very words.’

‘We will see about that,’ said Satan and, signalling to Lucifer to follow him, returned to the beast.

As Shadray watched on, Satan gave the signal to shoot the flame of death at Raphael. Yet, looking onwards, Raphael had the sword pointing towards the beast. Then, when the flames shot forth, they came to the sword yet instead of destroying it and Raphael the flames clung to the sword and grew, extending from Raphael’s sword into an enormous sword of flame. And then Raphael, wielding the sword, struck the beast, which at once started to cleave. Attack after attack, cut after cut, and the beast was being destroyed. Satan was screaming and then, suddenly, with an opening made in the hull of the deck, Shadray managed to escape. And then, Raphael twirled the sword which suddenly turned bright green and, with one final heave, struck the beast which exploded into flames and crashed down to earth. And thus, as it was written in the scroll of evil, fell the Morningstar of destruction, damned to the fate of eternal death within Sheol from which no man or angel had ever returned.

* * *

As Michael looked over the wreaked Diamond cities, Gabriel standing beside him, Gabriel spoke up. ‘The final defeat of evil has come at a heavy price, Michael. A heavy price. But it is an eternal lesson we have all learned and by the grace of God one which we will never have to learn again.’

‘May it be so,’ responded the Archangel Michael, secondborn of the Angels of Heaven.

THE END

* * *

Angels of Hope

Book Seven

“The Angel and God”

By Daniel

The Tears of Elenniel flowed and flowed as she looked at the destruction before her, the destruction wrought on the Diamond Cities of Heaven. So many of her beloved brothers and sisters in Angelicdom and amongst Humanity had died in the conflict with the Beast of Evil that she was not certain if her mourning could ever truly, really end. And thus her tears flowed, they flowed and flowed, like a river, falling from heaven to earth below.

And then God spoke. ‘CHILD OF GOD, FEAR NOT. LET YOUR HEART NOT BE DISTRAUGHT. FOR ALL THAT HAS BEEN HAS BEEN PLANNED SINCE THE DAYS OF ETERNITY AND MUST, OUT OF NECESSITY, HAVE COME TO PASS. FOR SUCH IS LIFE, DEAR ELENNIEL. SUCH IS LIFE. YET WORRY NOT FOR THOSE GONE FROM YOU FOR THEY YET REMAIN IN MY HEART. THEY YET REMAIN THERE, READY FOR NEW LIFE AND NEW BEGINNINGS IN A REALM WHICH IS YET TO BE. SO GO FORWARDS, EVER ONWARDS, BRAVE DAUGHTER OF GOD, NEVER FORGETTING YOUR LOVE, FAITH AND HOPE, AND LET THOSE TEARS TURN TO JOY AT THE NEW BEGINNINGS AND NEW LIFE AHEAD. BE AT PEACE, BRAVE CHILD OF GOD.’

And Elenniel, strengthened by the word which her heavenly father had spoken to her, took one last look at the destruction and then turned, heading for Joniquay, and the peace and consolation of her brethren.

THE END

Angels of Hope

Life on the Edge

Chapter One

Jenny Taylor was something of a good girl in high-school. She got decent grades usually, although there was a tendency to slacken off from time to time in certain classes were she apparently did not get along with the teacher. Her parents bemoaned this fact, but realized that was life, dealing with a teenager. What worried them the most, though, was Jenny’s taste in men. Paul Robinson was not the upright and respectable kind of young man they wanted their daughter going out with. In no way at all. He listened to ‘The Sex Pistol’s’, quite apparent from the T-Shirts he wore when coming around to visit Jenny, and said Bon Scott was either an angel sent from God himself to grace us with his magnificent voice, or the Devil was currently missing from hell. Punk & Heavy Metal – the banes of the Taylor family’s good Christian name. And while they, as Christian, felt it was always important to show mercy to sinners, in true Jesus fashion, there were still limits. Even for Christians from the Salvation Army.

But Jenny didn’t really care what they thought of Paul Robinson. She made that apparent when she let slip she was no longer a virgin and that Paul was the one who took her all the way. That was bad enough, but being pregnant at 15, not even of legal age, was too much for the Taylor’s to put up with. They took her aside when she got home one night, gave her $5,000, her inheritance apparently, and gave her the suitcase they had packed and wished her well in life. She was on her own now.

Jenny hated her parents after that but, soon, in the arms of Paul Robinson in his father John’s caravan, on the outskirts of town, not even going to school anymore, she no longer cared. The school sent around social workers to look into her case, but she screwed them around for a year, turned 16, and they left her alone after that. Let the Robinson’s look after her.

John Robinson did marijuana – had smoked the stuff since the 60s, and while his son, Paul, was a Rock’n’Roller all the way through, he didn’t want to fuck up his mind with what he had seen happen to his father. But Jenny did not seem to care and, despite Paul’s objections, took to Marijuana and soon the harder stuff. And then she was an addict.

‘Come on Jen. Don’t do the fucking stuff in front of the baby. For fuck’s sake, Danny will have enough shit to deal with when he gets older; he doesn’t need to see you doing fucking drugs. Sure, smoke, booze, those things I don’t give a fuck about. But not fucking drugs, sweetheart.’

‘Fuck off Paul. You aint no fucking saint.’

Paul Robinson, looking at his sweetheart, whose good looks over the last couple of years had gone from sweet 16 to someone who looked a hell of a lot older than that, sighed. Here she was, doing every fucking drug cocktail his father could get for her, another kid on the way, and she didn’t care. And she was a Christian girl? Proof positive there was no fucking God.

He picked up young Danny, who was playing with a rattle, and stared at her with daggers in his eyes. ‘Not in front of the baby, ok. I’ll take him outside. He can watch me with the car.’

‘You and your fucking car,’ responded Jenny. ‘It will never fucking go, you know. The bloke you bought it from was a cunt. I knew him in school. He ripped people off with all sorts of scams. Your lunch money was never safe.’

‘The car will go fine,’ said Paul. ‘Besides, I don’t care. It’s the Holden I have wanted for a long time. Sure, I don’t know much of how to fix it up, but I’ll learn slowly.’

‘Probably forever,’ she said, taking a swig of rum and cola.

‘Yeh,’ he said, looking at her as she was getting loaded for the afternoon. ‘Probably.’

Paul took Danny Robinson, his son, out the front of the caravan, out to the old model Holden Commodore, which went with sputters and smoke, which Paul had taken it to himself to see if he could repair and cruise around the city in. Perhaps he was naïve, as Jenny’s description of the salesman was quite accurate. But Paul didn’t care, and it was only $300. He would be hungry for the rest of the fortnight, but he had lived on pasta and rice before. That was standard fare for the dole bludger, after all. Woolies special 38 cents pasta packets. Meal for a family. Shit, that was what he had now – a family. Barely out of school, and he was a father. A family man. Probably, probably he should be responsible, probably. But, somehow, no matter how much a little voice in his head said to him that he would eventually have to grow up and act like a man, that little voice also had a dark side, perhaps that little devil, who said ‘don’t give a fuck man. Nobody else does.’ And, unfortunately, despite in his heart having dreams of one day making something of his life, of one day escaping this hell hole of a suburb in a city he would rather disown, the monotonous regularity of the same old shit was like the drugs he disdained – addictive, but nothing he could really do anything about. Which was a shame, really, as he fancied himself as a professional man in his heart, about town, in the latest model supercar, dressed for success, living the high life. But he was a loser, he knew that, and would be on the dole for the rest of his days. Of that he really had few doubts.

Inside, the 8 month pregnant Jenny Taylor, lying down on the couch, suddenly felt sick in her gut. Suddenly a lot of pain was there and, as she put her hand down to feel her crotch, she pulled it back up with blood on her hands. And then she started screaming for Paul.

8 hours later the doctor said it was a miracle that the kid had been delivered safely. With the blood loss and poor way she had been in a caesarean had been the only option, but the child might be dead already. Somehow, this miracle in the life of young Mikey Robinson, never seemed to give him the luck in life he perhaps deserved. But it was a miracle nonetheless. Despite the heavy abuse he had gone through from his mother with the constant drug use, alcohol abuse and addiction to nicotine Jenny had gone through during the pregnancy, he had come out a reasonably safe and sound child, in good enough condition, with no real health concerns. So it seemed, the Devil had been unable to take him out.

Later that year, when Jenny, despite saying she really hated her parents religion now, had her children baptized in a Uniting Church, simply because they were a traditional church which had more tolerance for people like her. And, still, despite saying she hated religion, Paul would catch her late at nights, just before she fucked off to the pub, reading a New Testament she hid from him to the kids, telling them that Jesus loved them and would forgive them. It went on till they were 4 and 5 respectively, and then she threw the book out, but she confessed to Paul later on that she had done her religious service, so fuck God, they were his kids to deal with now.

‘Danny. Do it, Danny.’

‘Ok.’

Danny Robinson picked up the dead magpie and, looking around carefully, the 9 year old walked across the road, opened the post-box of Mr Chang, and stuffed the dead bird inside. As he ran back across the road the two kids ran back home, down the street, over the dirt track and through the fields back to their caravan, laughing incessantly. Danny was Mikey’s hero now. He had stuffed a dead bird into stupid Mr Chang’s mailbox.

‘That was so cool, Danny. Awesome.’

‘I bet he will puke when he sees the dead bird. I bet he will puke. Vomit up all his Chinese food. Dogs and cats everywhere.’

Mikey laughed at that. ‘Do they really eat dogs and cats?’

‘Mum says so all the time,’ said Danny Robinson to his innocent young brother. ‘They are different in China. It’s there culture, mum says.’

‘I’m glad I’m not Chinese. I couldn’t eat a dog,’ responded young Mikey.

The two kids sat around in front of the caravan, playing with an assortment of objects which had built up over the years. There were car parts from dad’s Holden all over the place. The car had never worked as long as they had known, despite their father claiming he would eventually get it going. But, for the two young children, it made for interesting things to play with, to foster their fertile young minds.

Later that evening a certain Mr Huang Chang was not impressed with young Mikey and Danny but, despite being certain they were guilty of the offense, had no proof and Jenny defended her children against the chink to the nth degree. Somehow, somewere, along the way, Jenny Taylor had developed a mean streak against a lot of people, and newer residents to Australia, well, who gave a fuck.

‘Don’t worry. He’s a stupid chink,’ said Jenny to her two impressionable young children, who learned what a chink was through firsthand experience.

The following day young Samantha Jones, back from her mother’s place were she spent 1 week out of every 2, back with her father, came around and played with her best friends again. Danny liked Sammy, but Sammy liked Mikey. Funny that.

‘Why don’t we throw rocks at the stupid chink’s window.’

Danny, playing with one of the Holden’s inner tubes, shook his head. ‘The chink will just winge again.’

‘What’s a chink?’ asked the innocent Samantha.

‘You don’t know anything, do ya,’ said Mikey with pure male pride.

‘Mr Chang is the chink,’ said Danny.

‘What does it mean?’ asked Samantha.

‘A Chinaman, I guess,’ responded Danny Robinson.

‘Oh,’ responded Samantha, her curiousity abated.

‘Why don’t we take the BMX and do some jumps,’ said Mikey, eager to find an activity to please his older brother.

‘Maybe,’ said Danny, looking at Samantha.

‘We could watch Star Wars again,’ said Samantha. ‘I love it.’

‘For the millionth time,’ said Mikey, but was up for it anyway.

‘Why don’t we watch Rocky instead,’ said Danny.

‘If you want to,’ responded Miss Jones.

Mr Jones, Samantha’s father, had 2 video players, one on top of the other, with a cord running between them. This was to make it possible to do the technically illegal activity of dubbing video rentals from the local store possible, which had led to Mr Jones acquiring around 100 dubbed video cassettes of the best movies the 1980s had to offer. The young trio were in the habit of, on weekends and after school, watching their favourite movies, Star Wars movies and the Rocky movies being amongst their favourites.

‘Mr T could mutilate him in a real fight,’ said Danny. ‘Everyone knows Rocky is not that tough in real life.’

‘Rambo is pretty tough though,’ said Mikey.

‘Shuush,’ said Samantha. ‘We are getting to the best part.’ As the children watched ‘Clubber Lang’ suffered his humiliating defeat at the hands of the triumphant Rocky Balboa in the third instalment of the neverending series, and later on, outside in the playground of the caravan park, the two boys were throwing punches at each other and Samantha, acting oh so grown up, was saying ‘Boys will be boys’ all the time. Unfortunately the boys were just that – larrikins – and Mikey, the younger, ended up with a black eye which, despite Danny’s numerous claims, and Mikey not confessing, both of their parents just knew was Danny’s fault. The strap almost came out from Grandpa John, then, but after he glared at Mikey, he smiled and put his belt away. ‘Just scaring ya,’ he said to relieve the look of fear in Mikey’s eyes.’

Perhaps these years were the good years, in retrospect, for the Robinson clan. Perhaps they were not that bad all things considered. They were a family, of sorts, and still did some of the things traditional families were supposed to do. They did occasionally eat together, although this was usually at McDonalds or the rare visit to Kentucky Fried Chicken both boys delighted in. They celebrated Christmas occasionally. Not with any church attendance, or any songs or the like, but they did get presents and it was one of the few nights of the year which Jenny made a half decent attempt at preparing a proper meal. For regular meals they usually ate sausages or chops with potatoes poorly mashed and peas, but on Christmas they got roast chicken and turkey, and Jenny spent a lot longer than normal mashing the potatoes and making them taste ‘real good’ as Danny was want to say. And, despite the family’s lack of significant funds, most of it going on their addictions, they managed to visit Luna Park in Sydney occasionally, which was Jenny’s idea of a holiday for the family. But, in truth, that was about as good as it got for the family. Jenny and Paul never stopped arguing, although he was not the kind of man who would hit her, really, they sometimes got very passionate. They would both swear a blue streak and would use the ‘F word’ without hesitation, so much so that it seemingly came naturally to the two of them. Grandpa John would never complain, though. He had been through something like that in his own marriage, and knew the rougher side of life. He was usually found ensconced in the 1 private room the caravan/cabin had to offer, and would not get involved with these arguments. The boys, often, hid with their grandpa when their parents were going at it, and more often than not one, if not both of them, fell asleep in their grandpa’s double bed. For a long time Danny had the one spare single bed, and Mikey would sleep on the couch, but as he grew both his parent’s knew they would have to do something about the sleeping arrangements. But how could they afford it?

Still, all things considered, they were a family of sorts and, with the 1980s coming and going, the brave new world of the 1990s seemed hopefully to offer something new to the Robinson clan. It seemed that, but real life often has a way of biting you in the bum.

Chapter Two

‘Paul. I’m pregnant.’

‘Again?’

‘Oh, nice fucking attitude mate. Nice fucking attitude.’

‘You know we can’t afford another kid. I aint made of money Jen.’

‘You should have thought of that before you removed the condom.’

‘Fuck,’ Paul swore at the world, sitting in the caravan, drinking a beer, looking pissed off. ‘Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now. We’ll just have to cope.’

‘Oh, there is something we can do about it alright.’

He looked at her, unsure what she meant, but quickly made the connection. ‘NO FUCKING WAY, JENNY. You are having that baby.’

‘Whatever she said,’ pushing her cigarette butt out in the ash tray.

He looked at her and, perhaps, for the first time in their time together he really wanted to hit her for almost saying what she would do to their kid. She was supposed to have values, the bitch. She was supposed to have values.

Destiny, funnily, often works out the way we want it to, even if we don’t say so and regret it afterwards, because the child was miscarried, which left a numb feeling in the caravan for months. Paul and Jenny didn’t talk to either much – there was nothing to say, really. Nothing to say. And, despite Jenny’s earlier uncaring attitude, it hit her the hardest. She had been buying pink baby clothes, because they had a test and knew it was a girl, and she had been looking forward now to having a daughter. Someone like her. Someone like Jenny. Someone to pass off her own feminine values, ways and traditions to. A girl like her. She had spent afternoons fantasizing about her daughter playing with crayons and looking anxiously for her mother, the way Danny and Mikey did. Stupid things like feeding the child, and taking care of it in general. Just having a girl kid. A buzz which never quite happened for her boys. It hit her hard – harder then either was prepared to even talk about.

But Paul saw it late at nights. In her staring off into space. In her vacant eyes, and her absent expressions. This child was going to mean something to Jenny – a ray of light in an otherwise dark world. And then, right near when she was happiest, she was plunged into hell and the Devil finally had his victory over the Robinson clan. Life sucked.

And then she hit the grog even harder, and the drugs claimed the remainder of her soul.

1991 was a dark year. After the death of their child in January, Jenny’s parents were killed in an automobile accident and, despite the fact she didn’t visit them hardly at all since they kicked her out, it still hit her hard. She had no other real family to speak of and, although it had become her life anyway, really there was no escaping her destiny in the Robinson family now.

The money for the house and the belongings was split between the Taylor’s church, a number of charities, and 10% for Jenny. At the reading of the will Jenny wanted to insult her parents, but let the final remaining modicum of Christian charity still rule her heart. At least they had left her something.

In those days, mid to late 1991, she brooded around the caravan, looking twice her age, needle marks everywhere on her body, a wreck of a life of a young girl who once had promise, but fell into bad company. But, somehow, even Jenny couldn’t blame Paul. In many ways, despite his own reckless ways, Paul was still something of a survivor. He still had a bone of decency in his heart and, even when he was bashing on a bloke down at the pub, there were limits in what he would do. He could go psycho on guys, from time to time – it was the Sex Pistols in him – but there were limits. It was only fighting to Paul Robinson in the end. A bit of the biff. A bit of the State of Origin ruff stuff. Nothing too much more. Just the Aussie way. And while he smoked, drank, and swore a blue curse, that was about the limit. He was a brawler, a bad boy, but he was not a diehard criminal. Not an evil guy. He still had standards, and would stand by his mates, and fight for his country if he needed to.

But Jenny. What would they make of Jenny Taylor when all the shit had had its day. A girl of promise, turned to the dark side, and seemingly hating all who would offer a way back into the light, disdaining religion, disdaining her family, even disdaining Paul in some ways for getting her into this mess. But she didn’t blame him most of the time. Most of the time she understood, this was what God had dished out for Jenny Taylor. For the little girl in Sunday school who said God’s rules were too strict and that God was a hypocrite. And the girl who, despite complying with her parent’s ways, had a heart which could really hate people at times – really hate them, and only give lip service to the virtue of forgiveness. She was a bitch. A druggo. A loser. A Robinson. And she didn’t – really – care.

Somehow the kids survived those years, thinking there mother was just unwell most of the time. The boys had worked out that their mother did drugs and that they were supposed to be illegal, but the family didn’t apparently give a fuck. Those rules were for the people who made those rules, a common Robinson family saying. Yet Paul spoke with his boys from time to time and while he admitted their grandfather smoked dope made it equally clear that he didn’t and didn’t think that much of the shit. He would tell them ‘don’t do the shit. It will only fuck you in the end. Don’t waste your life. I did nothing with mine but you Danny, you Mikey. Fuck, maybe something good will happen in the end. Somehow I feel that. I don’t know. Somehow something good will happen for us in the end.’

Those words stayed with the impressionable young children and both Danny and Mikey, despite loving their mother and in some ways wanting to excuse or justify her behaviour saying ‘it wasn’t that bad, was it,’ in their innocence, knew there father was speaking the truth to them. They seemed, in their innocence, capable of making that leap.

‘Mum. Why do you do drugs?’ Mikey, who was now 11 in early 1992, and starting to make sense of the world, needed to know if his mother was really normal. If she was a proper mother. A regular mum. He had met other mums, mainly Samantha’s mother, who had problems of her own as well, but who seemed a little more normal than his own mother. A little bit more responsible. He wanted to make sure his mum was ok as well. That he had a good mum.

‘Kid. I just do them, ok. I’m an addict.’

She had gotten into that habit in the last few months, calling her children ‘Kid.’ Almost disowning them. Separating away into her own little world, the world of Jenny Taylor, were things as stupid as children, even her own, even those who depended on her, were little fascinations - like miniature umbrellas in a cocktail - which looked pretty, but served no real purpose apart from amusement. And Mikey, the young one, the stupid one she had grown accustomed to thinking in her heart, what purpose did he really serve now in the life of Jenny Taylor. Just something which half her social security was pumped into. Just another little bludging Robinson.

‘Can’t you stop doing them. Perhaps if you did you could get a job at Woolworths like daddy says you could do.’

Mikey wanted a normal family, now, more than anything else. He wanted to be a proper kid, in a proper family, and somehow he had worked it out that he wasn’t in that – a normal family. Somehow things were wrong.

‘Don’t fucking judge me, kid. I fucking hate that. I hate it in my mother and I hate it in my father and your fucking father. Hypocrites judge people. Fucking hypocrites. People who think they are so fucking holy that they have nothing better to do. So don’t ever fucking judge me, kid.’

Mikey had been sworn at before, but the little 11 year old was somewhat used to that in the family. But it didn’t sway him. He knew his mother was not right.

Later that night Danny found him crying in their grandfather’s bed and, hugging his younger brother, Danny said ‘One day it will be ok, Mikey. One day.’

* * * * *

Samantha Jones had a frog she had found in the pond near the caravan park. She was showing it to Danny and Mikey and they then started playing leapfrog. Jenny came out and looked at the kids playing with the frog and started swearing at them. ‘Don’t bring that fucking thing inside you brats. I fucking hate creepy crawlies.’

‘Aww, mum,’ said Mikey, but Danny just took the frog and gave it to Samantha and said ‘You know what she is like now. Better take it back to the pond. Make sure it is ok, ok. Don’t hurt it.’

‘I won’t,’ said Samantha, and disappeared.

Jenny, who no longer came out of the caravan very much, sat on the porch in the sunshine, staring at the kids. Staring at her own children.

‘You kids are like your father. Fucking losers.’

That shocked Mikey, being insulted by someone who he expected love from. From someone who, earlier in life, had cared for them, making them Christmas dinners and giving them presents. Their mother.

‘But that’s what I get,’ she said, lighting up another cigarette. ‘Shagging a fucking Robinson.’

Danny looked at his mother and, perhaps for the first time in his life, he judged. He looked at her and said ‘You’re a bitch.’

Jenny looked at him and, despite perhaps the expectation of a firm rebuke or a coarse insult in response, she just laughed. ‘Yeh, Danny. I am. I am a fucking bitch. So go fuck off, ok. You and Mikey, go fuck off.’

Danny looked at his mother, didn’t swear again, but turned to Mikey and said, ‘Come on. The bitch doesn’t want us hanging around.’

Mikey, though, looked at his mother. He looked and, in his heart, in his innocent young heart, he felt the only thing he could – shame.

They disappeared over to the other side of the caravan park and that day, with words said between them, they swore to look after each other, even if their mother could not really care for them properly anymore. Even if she didn’t care anymore.

In 1994, when Mikey was 13 and Danny was 14, they had gotten over their mother somewhat. She was, in a horrible way, dead to the kids now. Dead. They watched as she did drugs in front of them, even injecting the fucking chemicals into her crotch in front of them and in response to Paul who said ‘For fuck’s sake, Jenny,’ she responded saying, ‘Who gives a fuck? They will see them soon enough anyway.’

Paul, who had been in jail for the last 6 months for brawling, did not really know how far his girlfriend had fallen. How far from the tree she was now rotting away from. She was not the girl he had taken a liking for. She was not the same Jenny Taylor. She was, he hated saying, but she was just fucking evil. A loser, by even Robinson standards. And, the worst thing, she didn’t even care. She didn’t even want to change her lifestyle, to do anything about it. She saw her dealer every allowance day, paid for what she needed, gave Paul a small amount of cash for food, which she still fortunately looked into, saying she still needed to eat, and then she sat in front of the TV all day, watching daytime and night-time dramas, high half the time, or locked up in John’s bedroom, listening to the radio, drinking booze and sleeping. And while this pissed off John severely, he had started to sleep in the other double bed in the main living room with his two grandsons, while Paul took the single bed. Whatever else, they would not abandon Jenny. She was the children’s mother, and needed help. She wouldn’t take it, but she needed it. She needed it before it was too late.

When she overdosed for the first time Paul was not surprised. These things inevitably happened with druggo's. Of course, Jenny was actually quite a smart girl in her own way, and knew what the drugs were doing to her, and knew about handling them in something approaching moderation not to kill her. She had learned that much in school, and still took some care of herself in that respect. In other areas, though, she was not as diligent. She didn’t go to the park showers very much anymore – sometimes only once or twice a week – and often she went days at a time without taking proper care of herself, and she stank because of it. They were used to the smell as a family, had really come to expect it, but did the best they could. She was family. And, despite all the problems they had with her, they still loved her. But then she overdosed, ended up in hospital for 4 months, going through a detox program and coming home, they thought the worse would happen straight away. They were lucky – for the next year or so, until Mikey was 15, she did act responsibly somewhat. She washed herself, insulted Paul and the kids a lot less, and tried to go walking to lose some of her weight once a week or so. But, slowly, the devil reclaimed her soul, and dragged her back downwards, ever downwards, into the deepest addictions of her life – addictions she never recovered from.

Mikey found her one morning. Lying on the couch, after he got back from playing. It was a Saturday morning, and he had just turned 16, and was hanging with some kids from the caravan park, kids who had recently moved in, who were around 16 and 17, some with tattoos, riding skateboards, and even doing some drugs. They were his new friends, apparently. His new entourage. His new gang. They had been around for a few months, and Mikey had grown to care less and less about his mother. Less and less about the woman who raised him, but turned her back on him. And then he came home, his father in prison again, Danny off the other side of town with his latest girlfriend, leaving Mikey on his own, with John at his usual mates house, old man Nick, who also lived in the Caravan park. He came home, nudged his mother, and after no further response he took her pulse. Nothing. ‘Shit,’ he swore. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’

Later that night, John spoke to the boys. ‘It is just us 3 now. You’re father is still inside and will be for another 3 months. I’ll do my best, but you will have to take care of yourself mostly. I’m an old man, boys. I can’t do much anymore, apart from piss and shit and eat. But I’ll do what I can.’

Mikey put his hand on his grandpa’s shoulder saying he understood, and Danny nodded. It was just the 3 of them, then. There mother was in the hospital, somewhere, her dead body waiting for the cremation, which had been her wishes.

When their father got released from prison 3 months later, the family took the ashes, went off to the sea on a day trip via the train, and Mikey took the urn and poured the ashes into the ocean. And then, not really knowing what else to say, he prayed and said ‘God. Please take mum into heaven. Please forgive her.’

It had been the end to a tragic life, one which had deeply affected the Robinson men, leaving them with scars which would perhaps never heal. Jenny had been a difficult person in latter years to come to terms with. Her uncaring attitude towards them, as if they were just another bunch of losers like herself she was caught up with, instead of a family she was supposed to love and care for, was difficult to handle. And, as time passed, Mikey grew to hate his mother’s memory, and refused to think of those good times with her. She didn’t deserve that. The bitch didn’t deserve that. In his heart, deep in his heart, he knew he still loved her and would miss her, and did hope she was in heaven to meet them again one day. One day, were she would be better, and they could finally be a proper family. But for now he swore at her memory, and was glad to see the back of his own mother.

It was a dark time for the Robinson clan and, despite thinking 1997 was a horrible year, 1998 only got worse.

Chapter Three

‘Fuck. Why don’t we?’

Mikey was unsure. While the chink was still, to Mikey Robinson just that, a chink, he didn’t think he wanted to throw eggs at the man’s window. An old lesson on that had told him the wiser. But Ronald Baddely was not of the same opinion. He was dressed in a Metallica T-shirt, had a small tattoo of a skull on his arm and also had a nose ring. He looked the shit, so the gang often said.

‘Come on Mikey. Don’t be such a fucking pussy, ok. I have the eggs – we go later tonight, and throw them at his window, and scamper before he catches us. It will be a laugh riot.’

And so Mikey, his brother Danny not around, and his grandfather not there to correct him, nodded vaguely somewhat and agreed to the juvenile request.

Later that night, around 10, Ronald Baddely knocked lightly on Mikey’s caravan door and Mikey quickly appeared, dressed all in black like Ronald was, with a black balaclava covering his face. He didn’t want to be recognized just in case.

‘Shit, you ready to rob a bank?’ said Ronald.

‘Maybe,’ responded Mikey.

Ronald had his eggs and they carefully, avoiding the lights of the caravan park and being seen, came to the edge of the park, crossed over the paddock, onto the end street were Mr Chang lived and, coming to his lawn, Ronald handed 3 eggs to Mikey.

‘You ready,’ Ronald asked him.

‘Sure,’ said Mikey.

And then Ronald yelled ‘Now’, and started throwing the eggs at the nearest window, with Mikey soon following him. They threw about 8 eggs or so when Mr Chang appeared, swearing at them, and they ran off down the street back to the caravan park.

When they got back to Mikey’s caravan Ronald was laughing and boasting, but Mikey didn’t really think it was that funny in the end. And he was scared at the violent words Mr Chang had sworn at them.

‘Maybe he’ll call the cops,’ said Mikey.

‘Who cares,’ responded Ronald. ‘They’ll never trace it to us.’

‘You hope,’ responded Mikey.

The following day a cop car did make its way slowly through the caravan park, responding to Mr Chang’s fervent hassling, doing the rounds to give the park a scare. They knew there was not much more they could do than that. Mr Chang hadn’t seen the lad’s faces, so there was no proof. They had suspects, but no proof. So all they could do was send around the patrol car to scare the residents.

These sorts of activities, on the shadier side of the law, happened for quite a while in the small group during early 1998. Ronald’s older brother, Geoff, occasionally did shit with them also, but mainly Mikey and Ronald were becoming little criminals around town. They were very lucky – somehow the hand of grace was upon them, keeping them every time just out of the coppers reach, but perhaps grace would only last for so long.

Despite these reckless times, Mikey was still a likeable enough kid. He just got a kick out of being something of a bad boy – in some ways like his father, who brawled a lot. Ronald, a thug, was the main instigator behind all of their wrongdoings, and Mikey was easily led by him. Things they got up too included throwing trash on Mr Chang’s lawn a few months later, spray-painting their names into the concrete walls of a local underpass, as well as a lot of shoplifting from the nearby Woolworths, were they always seemed to manage avoiding being busted, despite the manager, when he was around, pretty certain the two kids were involved.

Yes, somehow the hand of grace was upon Mikey Robinson for that year for a time, but grace only lasts so long, and even angels can fall from it.

‘But we can go inside for breaking and entering. They will do that to us now – probably.’

‘So what. I can handle time inside,’ responded Ronald. ‘Besides, it will be fucking awesome. We can totally fuck the place.’

And so, despite thinking he should know better, they travelled across town to the Milk Depot late one night, or perhaps early in the morning, and going through a back entrance, they broke a window, came into the place and started busting up milk containers, milk all over the floors of the depot after a while. This time they were not so lucky. They had tripped an alarm and, shortly, 3 police cars had shown up and they were hiding in a closet out of sight. They were not lucky as one of the coppers opened up the closet and, threatening them with a baton, brought them out, out to the cop car, and down to the station. They were both arrested and Mikey’s grandfather came down and bailed him out on pension day.

Mikey fronted the magistrate, but had a good public lawyer from Legal Aid. He was sentenced to a good behaviour bond and had to do 6 months community work. Ronald was not as lucky, and had 3 months in Juvenile detention.

‘What’s your name?’ asked the blonde girl, picking up litter by the side of the highway, were Mikey was doing his service.

‘Mike. Mike Robinson.’

‘I’m Sheila. Sheila Davies.’

‘You are fucking kidding, aren’t you? Sheila? What, you’re parents fucking hated you?’

‘Fuck off,’ she said, but didn’t walk away.

They continued for half an hour, walking up the side of the highway, the head of the program, Daryl, coming up from time to time to look at them and to monitor them.

When Daryl had disappeared Sheila spoke again. ‘What did you do? To get this job?’

Mikey said nothing, but instead turned to have a good look at the girl. She was blonde, but it appeared dyed. She was tallish, just a little taller than himself, and she had multiple ear-rings, nose rings and even eyebrow rings. And there was dark mascara around her eyes. She was a little cute, though.

‘What. You a fucking Goth?’ he asked her.

She nodded. ‘I guess. Society hates me. I won’t conform,’ she said with a smile. He laughed at that.

‘Who the fuck wants to conform. Rules made by the rich to control the masses. Up the fucking Proletariat!’

She smiled. ‘What. You a fucking commie?’

‘Probably,’ he said, continuing to pick up garbage. He had read some of Marx’s literature recently, and had begun thinking that the world he lived in was fucked up by Capitalism.

She moved closer and soon they were picking up garbage together, Daryl who occasionally came over to check them giving them a funny look but not saying anything.

‘Try anarchy,’ she responded. ‘Even communism is a system of order. To control the masses in the end. It is not true freedom.’

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her seriously. ‘Fuck. As long as I am controlling the masses, I don’t give a shit.’

She laughed.

They spent the rest of the morning, till lunchtime, picking up garbage and then they were taken to McDonalds and given an allowance for their work to buy their lunch with.

Mikey sat down, eating his French fries and drinking his cola and was not surprised to see Sheila shortly standing in front of him. ‘Can I sit here?’ she queried.

Mikey, while Sammy Jones was his unofficial girlfriend, could see no real reason to object. The girl seemed alright. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Free world.’

She sat down.

They ate their meal in silence to begin with and he stared at her a bit, looking at her rings and her makeup and noticing the tattoos of tears on her hand. ‘What sort of music do you listen to?’ he finally asked her.

‘Metallica. Megadeth. Slayer. Morbid Angel. Harder stuff, usually,’ she responded. ‘My brother listened to these bands back in the 1980s and he gave me some CD’s not long ago. I used to listen to Madonna and Wham and Cyndi Lauper and Michael Jackson and other popular pop stuff. I hated Nirvana to start with, but now I love them.’

‘Right,’ he said.

They continued eating and he had found a question to ask her.

‘So you are anti-social?’

She nodded, but then amended that by saying, ‘But I still get along with people, I suppose. I’m probably contradicting myself but I try to like people I meet. I don’t like all the rules, but I do try to get along.’

‘And that is anarchy to you, is it? Getting along?’

‘Probably not. Probably not really. I’m probably a tryhard,’ she responded, taking a sip of cola.

‘Probably,’ he said smiling.

‘Hey,’ she said, punching him lightly in the arm, bringing another chuckle.

They finished their lunch and Daryl came over and said they could finish up for the day if they wanted to, but he would count their hours if they wanted to work extra today. They both declined that.

They walked down to a nearby park and she sat on a swing and he stared at her. ‘Do you do drugs?’ he asked her. Somehow, that question needed to be asked now. For some reason he needed to know – was she his mother.

She shook her head. ‘Some of my friends do, but I’m not that stupid. My brother said they will mess with your head. I smoked pot once and got the point. I won’t do that shit again.’

‘Right,’ he said.

She continued swinging and they didn’t say much. There was not much to say, they didn’t know each other very well.

Finally, she came off the swing and they walked over to the see-saw and both of them, despite Mikey thinking it was a bit juvenile, got on and they did little see-saws.

‘Where do you live?’ she asked him.

‘Over at the northside caravan park. It’s shit, really, but we can’t afford anything better.’

‘I know where that is,’ she responded. ‘We’ve never been there to stay or anything, but we’ve driven past it. Have you lived there all you’re life?’

He nodded.

‘We’ve been in this town a decade. It’s a boring place, but mum likes it. Dad died, and we got some life insurance. She works in a supermarket, and my older brother left town a year ago. He is probably going to get married soon, the idiot.’

‘You don’t like his girlfriend?’ asked Mikey.

‘I don’t believe in marriage,’ responded Sheila. ‘It is society’s way of oppressing women. It sucks. Its control. I would never get married.’

Mikey found something to say on that. ‘My parent’s never got married. They lived together, but never tied the knot. Mum didn’t believe in that either. Said it was a waste of time. Her parent’s religion.’

‘What. They were Christians were they?’

‘They were. They’re dead now,’ responded Mikey.

‘Oh, sorry,’ she said.

‘Don’t be. I hardly ever met them, and we didn’t get along. They were just like – well, like people you knew but nothing more.’

‘Acquaintances,’ she put in.

‘Yeh. I guess that’s the word,’ he responded.

It was Saturday, school awaited them on Monday, and Mikey found himself finding a girl who he actually seemed to like. Sure, he liked Sammy Jones, but he had always known her. They had been friends forever. Here was a new girl – a new friend – with viewpoints on life which, for the young Mike Robinson who was starting to question the fundamentals on society and life, could just be the tonic of inquisition he needed at this impressionable young age.

‘Where do you live then,’ he asked her.

‘Not far from here,’ she responded. He found out she went to the school in the next suburb to the one he went to. They were practically neighbours.

‘Well, do you want to do something Monday. After school,’ he said. ‘We could hang about. I could meet you here, I guess. Go to Maccas. Talk and shit.’

She nodded. ‘Sure, Mikey. We could do that.’

‘How did you know I was called Mikey?’

‘Uh, sorry. I didn’t. I was just being cute, I guess.’

‘It’s ok. That’s what they normally call me.’

‘I’ll call you that then.’

He nodded.

‘So I’ll see you here Monday? Around 4?’

‘Sure,’ she responded.

‘Cool. Well, I guess I got to go now. Shit to do.’

As he walked off, she waved at him and he got to the edge of the park and turned to see her at the water fountain, drinking. This new friend, this girl he liked. Perhaps even more than Sammy, even though he had just met her. But they seemed to click. Perhaps the right kind of girl to bring into the life of Mike Robinson.

* * * * *

They caught up on Monday. She got there just after 4 and he was sitting on the swing. ‘Hey loser,’ she said.

‘Hey bitch,’ he responded, and she giggled a little.

They spent half an hour chatting over various subjects, and she began relating something of her history. Her father had worked on a construction site in Sydney and had fallen from a height, which had given them a good life insurance payout. They had moved to the Robinson’s hometown and purchased the house outright with the sale of their own home in Sydney which had still a large mortgage owing and the payout, so they were in a decent enough financial position now. Sheila’s mother worked for a private supermarket on the other side of town, in the delicatessen cutting meat and cheese and that sort of stuff, and had worked for the past decade for the most part, bringing home the money for the family. Her brother had left for Sydney with his girlfriend to live a better life but, funnily enough, ended up working for the same construction firm his father had, which Sheila called ironic.

‘So now it is just me and mum,’ she responded.

‘What is your mother like?’

‘Ordinary enough, I suppose. She brings home men, occasionally. She fucks them, I think. Pretty sure of that. Blokes from the pub were she picks them up. But they are becoming scarcer now. She is a bit older and they are apparently harder to nab. A lot of them married.’

‘It’s a hard life,’ said Mikey.

‘I don’t think I want her marrying again, though,’ said Sheila. ‘While I don’t believe in marriage for myself, I know it is popular with my mother’s generation, but for me, well,’ she trailed off, not saying anything more.

‘Well what?’ queried Mike.

‘Well I still think my mother should honour my father. He’s MY dad. He’s my brother’s dad. She shouldn’t fuck more than one guy. That is wrong, somehow.’

‘Shit. You almost sound religious.’

‘Do I?’ she queried. ‘God save us all then,’ and they both burst out laughing.

‘I guess I can understand were you are coming from,’ he responded momentarily. ‘My mum and dad were always together until she died. Somehow, despite the fact that the stupid bitch hated us in the end and did drugs till they killed her, we were still a family. Still had that much sense in her.’

‘Oh, sorry,’ she said.

‘Don’t be,’ he responded. ‘The bitch got what was coming to her.’

She frowned. ‘Not a very nice way to talk about your mother.’

‘You didn’t know her, ok. Let’s just leave it at that. You didn’t know her, and you are lucky you didn’t. She was a real loser, and that is saying something from me.’

‘Oh,’ she responded, in a softer voice.

‘Shit,’ let’s change the subject,’ he said.

‘Ok,’ she said in response, but the conversation had dried up for a while.

Shortly Mikey stood and indicated for her to follow and they walked to the stone fence of the park and climbed up on it, gradually making their way all around the park, Mikey doing his best to quickly run along the steel gates without falling, but he fell and bruised his ankle and Sheila laughed.

They spent a while there that afternoon, and Mike didn’t make it home until 6.30. Danny quizzed him were he had been and suggested he get to his homework, but old man John didn’t seem to care. But he was like that these days – lost in his own world, perhaps not long for this one. He seemed to be now failing in health and, soon enough, the boys might be left to fend for themselves.

‘I’ve met a new girl,’ said Mike, as they were eating pasta for dinner.

‘You’ve got one. Samantha,’ responded Danny.

‘I know. I know. Sam is cool and all that. This girl, though. Well, she’s just a friend at the moment.’

‘Will she be anything more than that?’ queried Danny, picking up the remote and turning on the news.’

Mike didn’t say anything in response until Danny finally turned to look at him. ‘Well. Is she your kind of bitch?’

Mike finished his pasta and went into the other room. Danny shortly came and stood at the door. ‘You like her then. That’s obvious.’

He finally responded. ‘She’s not like mum. She knows about drugs. She’s alright.’

Danny picked up a little football from on top of the fridge and tossed it around in his hands. ‘Then you may as well get her fucking pregnant, bro,’ and he smiled, went back to the TV, leaving Mikey thinking over that very thought.

The following day they met up again and Mikey had Danny’s words on his mind. Sheila was sitting on the grass, with Mikey sitting on the fence when he sat down next to her, which didn’t bother her, but suddenly he moved his head forward to try to kiss her and she quickly pulled back.

‘What the fuck is your problem, Mikey?’

He stood, walked back to the fence and sat down and stared at her.

‘Are you serious?’ she asked. ‘I thought we were just friends, you know. Nothing more than that. I haven’t been giving you any signals that I know about.’

He turned away and responded, ‘No. I guess not. Sorry. It was my brother’s idea.’

‘Your brother told you to kiss me?’

‘Not exactly,’ he said. ‘Look, sorry. I like you, I guess. I just thought that maybe it was the right thing to do.’

She softened. ‘Look, maybe it is. I like you. But we are still getting to know each other. Give me some time before you get heavy on me, ok. And at least let me know that is what you want.’

‘Cool,’ he said.

Basically, he did want to fuck her now. She was about average in looks, perhaps a little on the cute side, and they got along really well. But perhaps it was just meant to be a friendship of sorts. Not that Mikey really knew what from what in that respect – he was still a virgin.

Later on she asked him if he wanted to come around to her house the following day after school, and he agreed. The day came and they were in her room and she was looking at him. She had adjusted, and knew that he was interested.

‘Do you want to? I don’t know. Do you want to kiss me?’

He looked at her and, a little nervously, came away from the computer games, and sat next to her on the bed, and they started petting. They were there for half an hour, tongue tied, when her mother opened the door, and they were caught. She stared at him. ‘Who is this, Sheila? A new friend.’

‘This is Mikey Robinson. Remember, I mentioned him the other night.’

‘Oh, yes. Your new friend. From the caravan park, isn’t he?’

‘That’s right Mrs Davies.’

She looked at him suspiciously. ‘It’s Miss Jenkins now, ok. My husband is dead.’

‘I know,’ he responded. ‘Ok. Miss Jenkins.’

She scratched her head, looking at the two of them. Her daughter had scored, so it seemed. ‘Look, do you want to stay for dinner Mikey. We are having roast chicken from the supermarket. I’ll cook some vegies.’

‘Uh, sure. Do you mind if I call home though. To let them know I will be late.’

‘Sure, kid,’ she responded.

They ate dinner, there, and Mikey, in one of his rare guest appearances at another home, was somewhat happy. It was a normal, regular house. Something he was not used to. Miss Jenkins was a kind enough host, serving him and pouring out Coca Cola for him to drink and asking him what he studied in school and what he wanted to do with his life, which he answered as well as he could. She seemed to take a genuine interest in him, and she was what Mikey always thought a mother should be acting like. Caring like. After dinner they sat in the main lounge room, him sitting next to Sheila, who had her arm on his leg, and they were watching pay tv. Terminator 2 was showing, and as he sat there, a new girlfriend next to him, in a nicer house than usual, a kind enough lady smoking quietly, but otherwise being the perfect host, he thought to himself. ‘Hey, this is ok. Life is ok.’

Later on, around midnight, after they had watched another late movie, Sheila’s mother retired for the night and left the kids to their own devices. Sheila liked kissing him and then, slowly, with Miss Jenkins snoring in the other room, he put his hand for the first time under her T-shirt. Slowly he edged it up to her breast, and, slipping it under her bra, he started playing with her tits. She moaned slightly, and kissed him more passionately, and they were at this for 10 minutes. Finally, she pulled away and looked at him. ‘I’m a virgin,’ she stated flatly.

‘So am I,’ he responded.

‘You’re not just saying that, are you?’

‘Do you care,’ he responded.

‘Not really, it’s your life.’

She looked at him, and looked down at his trousers at his crotch. But then she shook her head. ‘Look, Mikey. Not yet. I’m not ready. I mean, sure, you can squeeze my tits. But nothing more, yet. Not so soon, ok.’

He looked at her, thinking perhaps he should be a little disappointed, but it was true as well – he still was a virgin.

‘Sure, Sheila. I guess I came on a bit strong.’

‘No, you were fine. It’s just me.’

They looked at each other for a few moments, and then Mikey turned to stare at the TV set. ‘Well, the movies over. I guess I probably should get going.’

They came outside of her house and Mikey looked up at the stars in the sky. He shivered a little, as winter was approaching, and he was only in a T-Shirt. She looked at him, and said ‘Wait here,’ going off inside. Soon she returned with a large duffle coat. ‘It was my brother’s. He left a lot of stuff in his room. I don’t think he will mind. Go on, take it.’

‘Uh, thanks,’ he said, putting on the coat. Suddenly he felt a lot warmer.

‘Can I see you tomorrow?’ he asked her.

‘You can count on it,’ she responded.

As he walked home that night, he looked up at the stars. He looked at the stars and wondered, quietly, wether they really shaped your destiny. If they did, had they brought him and Sheila together? Were they now meant to be together, perhaps forever? It was early days in their relationship, and perhaps he was making way to much out of the situation, but he knew he liked the girl, and perhaps liked her a lot. She didn’t believe in marriage or anything else like that, but he was way too young to get married anyway. And, besides, his parents never got hitched. Perhaps they were just meant to be close fiends, lovers, maybe even partners one day. Or perhaps the friendship would not work in the end, brought to a sudden ending for some reason that God only knew.

Shit, God? Did he really believe in God? Somehow, tonight, old lessons from childhood seemed to be there. Old lessons saying God was there and he had a plan for your life. He felt like a dickhead for thinking it but, perhaps, perhaps God was there. Perhaps he had brought him and Sheila together. Perhaps.

All the long walk home Mikey Robinson was happy enough. It had been something of a dark year for him. He’d been in trouble with the law, had done a lot of shady things, but somehow these had been overlooked by the powers that be, and he had been given a break. He had what looked like to be a new girlfriend and somehow, this girl, seemed to be offering him a new lease on life. A new adventure.

He got back to the van, found Danny asleep on the double bed and John snoozing in the other room. He got a beer out of the fridge, sat down out on the front porch, and stared up at the stars. It felt like a new beginning. Like a new and better chapter of his life had started. Perhaps he was being given a break after all the shit he had been through after all. Perhaps.

Chapter Four

‘So it’s life on the edge, is it?’

‘In more ways than one. But, yeh. Northside Caravan Park is on the edge of the city, and I am an edgy kind of guy,’ said Mikey, smiling at Sheila.

‘Edgy. I like that. A baaad boy.’

‘Hey, you know me,’ he responded.

She sat on the other seat around the small plastic table in front of the Robinson’s caravan cabin. The caravan cabin itself was an older model caravan from the 1970s which had had one end of it broken open and attached to a one bedroom cabin which had been put up on the campsite. They rented the site, naturally, but had a good deal with the owners for being long term residents. It was cheap, had just enough room for them to live in, and satisfied their basic needs. It was far from flash, of course, but that was the Robinson clan - far from flash. John Robinson had lived in the place since the late 1970s, after his marriage had fallen apart, with his son Paul. Nobody knew were Mrs Robinson now was – she could be dead for all they knew – but nobody really cared anymore. That was ancient history. Mikey had lived at the park all his 16 years and had never known another home. It was located on the north-west side of a town which was basically a small city, one or two hundred or perhaps even more or less kilometres or so from Sydney, the capital city of New South Wales in Australia. To Mikey it was nowheresville, but it was all he had ever really known. Of course, he visited Sydney with the family in younger years, but had not been out of his own town for a long time now. There was nowhere to go for a guy like him. He was in year 10, didn’t really fancy the prospect of going on to year 11, despite Danny having a go at it anyway with grades just good enough to consider him a possibility of completing his HSC, but for Mikey that was probably not that likely. He was not exactly thick or dumb, but he was no genius either. He was below average, but not the bottom of the class. Perhaps, if he could ever really seriously be bothered to find some sort of motivation, he could rise somewhat, do well in school, and go on to make something of his life. Perhaps. But, so it seemed to Mikey’s own way of life, he had a destiny carved out for him already. It may possibly involve sex with a girlfriend – that much now seemed likely – but, apart from that, the traditional ways of the Robinson clan, living in a caravan park, bludging from the dole, getting pissed on Friday nights, smoking too much, and watching the footie were about the limits of his life plans. It had been something the way of old John, definitely the way of his father Paul, and Mikey didn’t anticipate changing from this tradition terribly much. All he had to do was talk Sheila into its possibilities.

‘So, this is life,’ said Sheila, looking around. ‘You sit here, do you? Watching the stars?’

‘Sometimes,’ responded Mikey. ‘Oh, I get up to shit. You know. The kid I got busted with which got me the community service lives here also, with his brother and parents. I do shit with him, but not much else. We watch the footie, I drink the occasional beer which dad lets me, and I smoke once or twice a week. But that is all – I won’t smoke that much, and I will never do drugs. I saw what happened to my mum because of it.’

‘Like you said,’ responded Sheila. She looked around at the park, as they were near the centre of it, with a good view on the other camp sites and the overall place.

‘Where do you wash?’

‘There are showers just over there,’ he said pointing. ‘No bath or anything like that, but they are maintained with the toilet block. One thing, we don’t have to buy toilet paper.’

‘That’s a positive,’ she responded.

She looked at him for a while, and he smiled, eventually, finishing off his coke, leaning down and picking out two more cans from the esky and handed one to her. She opened it up and looked at him seriously. ‘So this is what you have to offer me for my life? Life in a caravan park?’

He was a little bit put off by that, her taking their romance to the next level so quickly, but adjusted. ‘Fuck. I don’t know. It’s what I have always known. I mean, if we stuck together, who the hell knows were life would take us.’

‘Probably nowhere,’ she remarked, taking a sip on the coke. He looked at her and nodded. That much was a possibility.

‘Well, what do you want to do?’ he asked her sincerely.

‘Oh, I don’t think I have ever wanted to conform to this world’s ways. But, lately, the last few days, well…’ she trailed off again.

‘Well what?’ he asked.

‘Well I have been thinking about my life. Perhaps a bit more seriously than usual. Perhaps I want to do something with my life in the end. Perhaps I want to make something of myself.’

‘What?’ he said, looking intently at her.

‘It’s just that,’ she responded. ‘I don’t know.’

They sat there, Danny coming outside for a stretch, looking at the two of them, winking at Mikey, before going back inside.

‘Well, do you have any plans?’ she asked, looking at him.

‘I don’t know,’ he responded. ‘Not really. Probably, well. Well, this is life. It’s what I have always known.’

‘I guess so,’ she responded.

After a while of silence she spoke again. ‘Don’t you want, well, more from it? More from life? I think that is what I want. More than what I have seen in it so far.’

‘I guess,’ he responded, not really knowing what to say.

‘I guess,’ she repeated, and said nothing more.

They sat there, drinking cola, and when she left shortly after mid-day, he went back inside, sat down in front of the box, and started thinking. What did she want? Did she want a businessman for a husband? A guy with a career? Was that Mikey Robinson? Could that ever be Mikey Robinson? Probably not, but it did get him to start thinking on the subject.

After school the following Monday they were at the park again, there usual hang out place, and he had something to offer her.

‘I’ll be an Astronaut.’

‘Very funny,’ she said, laughing.

‘No, seriously. Australia’s first Astronaut. I’ll go up in Dingo 1, a rocket ship, land on Mars and hoist the Aussie flag. I’ll be famous.’

She continued laughing, and punched him in the shoulder softly, a habit of hers.

‘You’re an idiot Mikey.’

He smiled at her warmly.

‘Seriously, though. I have been thinking. About what you said. Those questions. Making something of my life.’

‘And,’ she said, looking up at him, looking into his eyes. ‘What did you decide?’

‘Well, nothing yet. No decisions. But I guess I have a plan of sorts.’

‘Which is?’

‘The worst thing in life. Actually studying properly. I never work hard on my school stuff anyway.’

‘And then?’ she queried.

‘Then I will do my very best to get through year 11 and 12 and get the HSC done. Look, I’m no Brainiac. You probably know that as well as me. But I’m not completely stupid and dad always said to me you can make something of your life if you try hard enough. I’m willing to do that. I’m willing to try.’

She smiled at him, came over and kissed him on the lips. ‘Bloody good to hear, Mike Robinson.’

They went inside and Danny was not around, across town at his Asian girl-friends place. He actually now liked Asian girls a lot – he had something of a thing for them. Old man John was at his friend, Nick’s caravan, and they had the place to themselves. Sheila, walking into the cabin, indicated he should follow, and they were on the bed, making out. He felt her up again, which she allowed occasionally, and she looked into his eyes.

‘Astronaut, huh?’

‘Absolutely,’ he responded.

‘Well, does the Astronaut know how to land his shuttle,’ she said, grabbing his crotch.

‘Fuck,’ he responded, under his breath.

‘Exactly,’ she said.

And they did.

Later on that week, walking around the caravan grounds, Mikey felt like a man. A grown up. He was no longer a virgin. He’d fucked twice now, last night for the second time, and was understanding even more clearly the fuss on the subject. Sheila was coming around again tonight and said she would just jerk him off tonight, as she didn’t want to get pregnant, and he was looking forward to that. He’d done enough of his own experimentations on his body, and had done so since he was 13, but having a girl to do it for him, that was wonderful. Some how Sammy Jones, who avoided him these days with his new girlfriend, never seemed to have been interested in that. It never seemed to have happened. Just not meant to be, Mike thought to himself. But he had found a girl who he really, really liked now, and they were together. And it felt really good.

‘Hey, you,’ she said. ‘What you up to?’

He turned to see Sheila approaching. ‘Waiting for you babe.’

‘Good.’

He took her hand and was about to walk with her to the caravan, when she resisted. ‘What’s the problem?’

‘I got sick this morning.’

‘So?’ he said.

‘Well, you know. I could be. Well. You know.’

Mikey didn’t make the connection – vomiting during pregnancy was still a mystery to him.

‘What?’ he asked her.

‘Pregnant,’ she said flatly.

‘Already? You have to be fucking kidding me right.’

‘Look, I don’t know. I could buy a kit, I guess. Test myself. See if I am.’

He looked at her, shocked. Somehow the leap from being a kid with his first girlfriend and losing his virginity to being a father didn’t seem to connect so easily – not straight away. It didn’t happen like that. You got to know someone, eased into a relationship, and when the time was right, you had a child. But nature often objects to those protocols, and if you have sex with a person, pregnancy often results, even from the first time.

‘Uh, yeh. I guess you should get yourself tested. I guess. But, fuck. Fuck. I’m not ready to be a dad. I’m only fucking 16.’

‘And you think I’m ready to be a mother,’ she responded.

‘And we were just starting to make plans,’ he said.

‘Funny, huh,’ she said.

He took her hand and they walked to the side of the Caravan Park, into the vacant field. They sat there, and he kissed her lightly on the cheek, and they talked quietly.

‘Look, if you are. Umm, pregnant I mean. Well I won’t ditch you. I wouldn’t do that.’

‘Good to fucking hear,’ she said.

‘Yeh. I mean, if you are, we could be together, if you like. Like a proper family and shit.’

‘Were will we live?’ she asked him.

He swore. ‘Fuck, I don’t know. Here, I guess. Or, I don’t know. With your mother maybe.’

‘I’m not sure if she would like that, Mikey. I mean, sure she likes you well enough. But having a man move in to live permanently – that much she might not agree with.’

‘Then you live with me. John won’t give a fuck. He’d probably expect it, really.’

She nodded. That much seemed quite possible, knowing the Robinson’s.

‘Look, we could be jumping the gun,’ she said. ‘Maybe I was just that – just sick. I might not be pregnant.’

‘Then why the fuck didn’t you say so,’ he said, almost regretting her not being in a strange way.

‘I don’t know, Mikey. Morning sickness is a sign. But I’ll get the test done. I’ll do it tonight.’

‘Let me know tomorrow, ok. Come here after school. Let me know.’

‘I will,’ she said. ‘I will.’

The following day she showed up and shared the news. The test had returned positive – they were going to have a baby together. He swore all that afternoon and, when she had left, he looked at the caravan. If they were going to live here as a family, well. Well he would have to tidy it up for starters. Somehow, in the mind of Mikey Robinson, what he had grown accustomed to for his own life from his own family was no longer good enough. Somehow, perhaps even from Sheila’s own words, he wanted more from life – he needed more. He would do up the place, keep it clean, and make sure the kid had a good upbringing. He would make sure of that.

He told Danny who just patted him on the back and said it would be good to be an uncle. When he shared something of his worries on the issue Danny just said, ‘Fuck. Who plans on making babies anyway. They just happen. Its what happened to mum and did with me. Don’t sweat it. It will be good to have a kid around. Dad will be over the moon.’

‘Yeh, dad,’ responded Mikey. ‘I guess I will have to call him.’

‘We could go visit, you know. He gets out again in 2 months, so we could wait. But with news like this.’

‘We’ll wait,’ said Mikey, making a decision. When he gets home it will be good news to share with him.

‘You’re the boss,’ responded Danny.

Old man John was over the moon, and said the boys could get pissed tonight if they wanted to, which is in fact what they started doing. Around midnight they were singing songs and the park manager came around and asked if they could tone it down somewhat. They shared the good news with him and he gave them a break and told them to quit the revelry by 1, which they ended up complying with, simply because they fell asleep.

In the morning, Mikey feeling dreadful, not fit for school for the last day of the week, he decided he’d ditch again, which he did from time to time, even though now he had a good enough reason not to. Now school seemed almost important to the young Mr Robinson.

That afternoon Sheila came around. She had shared the news with her mother who, surprisingly, had taken it quite calmly and hugged her, saying it was good news. Sheila knew she could live with her mother after the child was born, but Miss Jenkins was in two minds about Mikey living with them. ‘She didn’t explicitly refuse the idea, ok. She just wants to think about it first.’

‘Well, you can live with me, if you like. Grandpa doesn’t mind at all. I know its not the greatest place on earth, but it will do for now.’

She nodded. She had possibly resigned herself already to that reality.

For the next few weeks things went happily enough in Mikey Robinson’s life. At school he bothered to make sure he did his homework and paid more attention than usual to his classes. He was actually surprised. He had sat in the library, one afternoon, working as hard as he knew how to do on an essay for history. He had looked up several books, written down the references in the way they taught you to, and rewrote the history in his own words, putting the ideas into his mind. He answered the question as best he could, trying to put his own ideas as well as using ideas from the books, and when he got the essay back with an A-, his best ever result in his whole life, he surprised himself. Shit, he wasn’t actually dumb. In fact, he was kind of smart. He showed the result to Danny and John and they congratulated him and, when Sheila came around, he paraded it in front of her.

She was very happy with him that night and, sitting out on the porch, while he was inside grabbing more coke from the fridge, she picked up the essay and looked at the grade one last time. It mightn’t mean that much in the end – perhaps it was just a fluke – but if he was actually this smart, and prepared to give a damn now – prepared to actually try, well. Well perhaps they could have a decent life together. Perhaps a life with more than just what Northside Caravan Park could offer them. Perhaps life in another town, another city, with a fresh start – a new beginning. If he could finish year 10 and then go on and complete his HSC, and do well. Well perhaps he was even smart enough to get through university and do a degree, something she now thought as almost essential for her to achieve. Perhaps the gods had actually delivered the right man into her life at a young age because they already had a plan for her. Perhaps this crazy world, were the rules didn’t seem to make sense to her – well perhaps they had a plan for her, despite their legalisms. Perhaps life actually cared.

When he came back out she said nothing, but just looked at him. He smiled, passed her a coke, and they stared at the stars and the park, in their own little world.

‘You know, Mikey. I think I do actually love you. I know I’m young, and I don’t normally say shit like that. But I do. I do love you.’

She was hoping to hear something similar in response, and when Mikey leaned over, put his hand on hers and said ‘We’ll always be together. Believe it,’ she knew he felt the same way, even if he couldn’t yet say it.

They were a good few weeks from then for the little family and, as the bump in her belly became obvious, Mikey grew in pride at being a father yet to be. Things, after something of a motherfucker of a life, seemed to be perhaps finally getting better. And then Ronald Baddely returned to the caravan park after his stint in Juvenile and bad news entered the life of Mike Robinson once more.

Chapter Five

‘She’s a bitch!’

Mike Robinson, who was not necessarily a Robinson in the brawling department, was still his father’s son. He hit Ronald Baddely, hard, in the head and stood over the lad, sprawled on the ground.

‘Listen, cunt, don’t fucking ever say that about Sheila.’

Ronald stared up at him, got to his feet, dusted off the dirt from his flannelette shirt, and laughed. ‘Sure, Mikey. Look, all I’m saying is don’t listen to your sweetheart. Let’s rock, baby. Go off and do some shit. Don’t give me this ‘cleaned up your act’ shit, cause I don’t buy it. You’re a fucking Robinson – through and through. Your not a fucking do-gooder. It’s not you, mate.’

Mikey, staring at his former rogue partner, sensed the bloke had said what he wanted to say on the issue, so sat back down, and picked up his beer, drinking it slowly. He stared at Ronald, who had a new scar running over his eyebrow.

‘How’d you get the scar?’ he asked him.

‘Did it in Juvie. Some real cunts in there. The worst sort. My kind of people.’

Mikey laughed – that much sounded true.

‘Look. The shit we got up to – no more, ok. I’m trying to make something of my life now. To one day get out of this town, to do something proper. To be somebody.’

‘Rich bastards in limos laugh at guys like us, Mikey. We’re the scum which buy shit from their stores, and they are happy to take our money, but that is were it fucking ends. They don’t like us, and we don’t like them. Australia is still a class society, mate, no matter what they fucking say. It’s the elite at the top, bastards like us far down beneath them, and the abbo’s at the bottom. And that is just the way it fucking is, ok. Don’t pretend to be something your not. It don’t suit you.’

‘Fuck you,’ said Mikey, but Ronald said nothing in response.

‘Remember, you’re the fucking commie, Mikey. You should know all about the fucking class struggle. Losers like us don’t count for anything. Society will never accept our type. We don’t fit. You fit here, in places like this, with people like me. You have got to know your own kind, brother. Life is shit unless you know your place.’

Mike stared at him, and his inner conscience was seared somewhat. Those words sounded like the kind of shit his dad would say from time to time. The kind of ‘us against the world’ mentality. Home truths. But, no, it didn’t have to be like that. It didn’t have to be that way. Some people, out there…. Some of them cared. Were prepared to give a guy like him a go, if he could show he had what it took. He knew that. He was sure of that.

‘You’re talking out your arse, Ronnie.’

Ronald, picking up his beer, took a swig and lit a cigarette. ‘Am I? Am I really? I don’t think you know how society has worked for thousands of years. There is the upper class and the lower class. We learned that shit in school. And we are the lower, and the upper don’t fucking like us.’

‘Bullshit. It’s not like that anymore.’

‘Its not? Look around. Look at the shit-hole you live in and tell me it aint like that anymore. The more things change the more they stay the fucking same, mate. The more they stay the fucking same.’

Mikey stared at him, wanted to hit him again, but kept under control. But the words had cut him somewhat. They had cut deep.

Ronald stared at his former compatriot for a while, took another sip of beer and got up to go off and take a piss at the toilet. Coming back he sat down, picked up his beer and looked at Mike.

‘Come on, Mike. You don’t have to be so fucking responsible at your age. Shit, sure, we’re growing up. It happens fast living in a place like this. Get belted by your dad long enough and you learn about the harsher side of life. But hey, who gives a fuck. Party hard, that’s what I fucking say. You say she likes Metallica – fuck yeah. We’ll have a party, here, Friday night. Play some fucking metal, drink some booze, and listen to rock and fucking roll. And then maybe do some shit.’

He looked at him and, despite thinking he should know better, nodded. ‘Sure. We can rock. Sounds good. But nothing illegal. I don’t want to end up inside with dad. I have to think about the kid coming.’

‘Sure, whatever you say,’ responded Ronald. ‘Whatever you say.’

Mike nodded. He didn’t think Ronald gave the slightest shit about his own concerns, but he was not overly worried. He was a little older now, since they had run together. Coming to terms with being a father and making what may be constituted as adult decisions in relation to his schooling seemed to have made him grow up a lot in the last few months. He was emerging from a troubled teen into a man. Someone who wanted more out of life than the troublemaking of a troubled adolescent. He could handle cunts like Ronald Baddely. He could handle them.

Friday night came around and Ronald and his brother showed up around 6, Ronnie with a handful of CD’s and a large boombox, with his brother carrying a carton of midis – Foster’s.

‘Where’s Sheila?’ Ronnie asked.

‘Inside,’ responded Mike.

‘Right. Were can I plug this in?’

Mikey took the boombox, setting it down on the table. He went inside briefly and returned with a long extension cord and plugged the boombox in.

‘Fuck yeah,’ said Ronald, and put on Metallica’s self titled album. As ‘Enter Sandman’ started playing, Mikey relaxed somewhat and they handed out beers, starting a night of drunkenness.

Danny showed up half an hour later and, when he came back outside and joined them Sheila came out also. She stared at Ronald, sensing he was bad news, but said nothing more. But she liked the music, her kind of stuff, and sat on Mikey’s lap, smoking a rare cigarette, something she had gone cold turkey on since becoming pregnant, sipping on Mikey’s beer, and occasionally mumbling the lyrics to the songs. They were happy enough.

The little group sat there, partying away, when old man John came home briefly, stared at the group and shook his head laughing. He went inside, into the cabin, and came back out with some of his older war magazines, and again looked at them laughing.

When he left Ronald said ‘What is his fucking problem?’

‘Familiarity, probably,’ said Danny. ‘He’s seen shit like this all his life. From dad and now from us. The more things change, you know.’

‘Don’t I,’ said Ronnie.

The next CD was Megadeth’s ‘Rust In Peace’, another favourite of Sheila, and the little metal community sang their songs, the occasional ‘Dio’ Satan symbol being made with their hands, just to be cool, and talked their shit. Ronnie went on about his adventures in Juvie and how he had cut a guy’s arm with a knife before being cut himself in the forehead.

‘They broke us up after that, but it was a fucking nightmare for a few weeks. He would stare at me and say he was going to kill me.’

‘What happened?’ asked Sheila.

‘Fuck all,’ responded Ronnie. ‘It was all talk. Eventually he started sitting next to me and talking about his life. We ended up friends, sort of. Just another problem kid, like us.’

She nodded. Facts of life to Sheila Davies.

Mikey was in his own little world, sipping on his beer, listening to some music which, although not quite his own taste, that he was familiar enough with anyway. He himself preferred bands like ‘Noiseworks’ and ‘The Screaming Jets’ and ‘Cold Chisel’ and ‘AC DC’ – traditional Aussie Rock and Roll. The harder stuff was not quite his scene, but he’d heard a lot of it by now. His dad said the heavier side of metal was just noise – banging madly on drums. There had to be something to the music to Paul Robinson in the end, also – not just wild noise. This, coming from a Sex Pistol’s fan made Mikey question his father’s authenticity somewhat, but perhaps it was just a generational thing. After all, 70s music was not quite as heavy as what came later. Perhaps Paul Robinson had his limits – perhaps he was only so much of a bad boy in the end.

‘So you’re fucking preggers?’ Ronald said to Sheila, not so much a question as a statement.

Sheila nodded.

‘Are you sure it’s fucking Mikey’s?’

‘Fuck you,’ responded Sheila, but Mikey said nothing. It was typical Ronald bullshit, which he was used to.

‘Seriously, a girl like you – you must have had heaps of cock up your vagina.’

Sheila stared at him, but said nothing. Eventually Mikey spoke.

‘There was blood. When I fucked her.’

‘So what?’ responded Ronald, a little confused.

Danny smiled. ‘It means she was definitely a virgin, Ron. Mikey was her first fuck. They hymen breaks when a woman first has sex with a man, and a little bit of blood often comes out.’

‘What the fuck is a Hymen?’ responded Ronnie.

‘Shit down below,’ responded Sheila, taking another sip of beer.

Ronald looked at her weirdly, but shrugged. Female bullshit – someday he would figure it out.

Sheila stared at Ronald, and decided to see if she could have a little fun of her own at the bastard’s expense.

‘So, you have never blooded a woman? You’re not a virgin, are you Ronnie?” she said in a cute voice.

‘Fuck you bitch!’ he responded with open hostility.

Mikey smiled and Danny laughed.

‘Yeh,’ continued Mikey. ‘That is a good question. Come to think of it, I have never seen girls hanging around you. You’re not exactly ugly, so what gives? I mean, you are not into guys, are you?’

That riled Ronald, who thought about getting up and motioned to, but his older brother just said ‘Cool down, Ronnie. They are just fucking with you.’

Ronnie was embarrassed, but soon admitted it. These people he felt he could trust somewhat. ‘Yes, I’m a fucking virgin. I haven’t met a girl who likes me for me, yet. Someone who accepts me.’

‘Perhaps an upper class bitch,’ said Mikey sarcastically. ‘You know,’ he said, looking at Ronnie. ‘Opposites attract, and all that shit.’

Ronald looked at him and nodded, taking another sip on his beer, thinking that over.

Later on, around 9, they were listening to another Metallica CD, ‘Ride the Lightning’ and talking typical teenage shit about the class struggle and the merits of communism versus capitalism. Mikey came across as having at least some knowledge, and they listened to him somewhat, but everyone had something to say. It was agreed – an anarchic system, in which they ruled the world, would be perfect. Everyone was happy with that solution.

The following morning Mikey indeed had another hangover. He was starting to get used to them, somewhat. Old man John provided beer for the kids, not really giving a shit about the issue of the law on the subject, and the caravan park manager never queried – he seemed to expect it. Sheila was inside, on the single bed, still asleep, and Danny had fucked off to his Asian girlfriend as usual, where he spent half his time these days. She worked nights in a Chinese restaurant, but during the day Danny was with her a lot of the time, they hung around her flat, having sex, watching TV, and doing the shit boyfriends and girlfriends get up to. In youth they had hassled Mr Chang somewhat, and freely used such racist terms as ‘Abbo’ about the native indigenous Australia aborigines and ‘Chinks’ about Asians in general but, in truth, they were not exactly racist. Not bred to be anyway. They were young Australian lads, used to a particular somewhat ocker culture and vernacular and they followed their traditions in this respect. But they were also lads who, despite peoples often first impressions, seemed to be growing up with somewhat decent hearts. In the end they were not the brawlers their dad had been, and didn’t hit the alcohol or cigarettes anywhere near as much as their father did. No, they were not saints, nor trying to be, but they were not the ultimate in the bad boy scene either. Perhaps they were kids out of their environment, in some ways. Kids who, in another time and place, in another family, might be riding around now in posh cars, speaking posh words, having dinners at country clubs, wearing posh clothes and listening to posh music. Perhaps they were the kind of kids that, if you invested some time and eduction into better ways into their lives, that could make something of themselves. Perhaps, in the end, they were not the traditional Robinson losers, but understood members of a society which, although it didn’t really hate them, didn’t really love them either and didn’t really have that much time for them. Perhaps they were just kids – living on the edge – and needing a break in life. Perhaps that was all they were.

Ronnie stared at the old Commodore, sitting there, its parts all over the place, and wondered to himself. ‘Would it actually fucking go? If work was put into it, to properly put it together, would it actually fucking go?’ And so, for the next few weeks, taking school a lot more seriously, he bought some cheap commodore manuals from a garage down town and, with Danny sometimes helping out, he tinkered away, working on the machine, seeing if he could get it going. Having a reliable care for a new family would perhaps be a good idea. They could go down to Sydney for short holidays and do all the shit people with cars normally did. And he was 100% sure his father wouldn’t give the slightest fuck. Thinking on him, his father was due out very soon – next Friday – so, asking Sheila if she could visit for the day, they did up the caravan with some streamers and balloons and a ‘Welcome Home’ sign and waited on Paul Robinson to front. He did, but later that night, after he had become suitable intoxicated at the pub.

He was somewhat sober the following morning and when he saw Mikey tinkering away at the Commodore he said ‘What the fuck are you doing?’

‘I didn’t think you would mind,’ responded Mikey. ‘I am trying to get it going.’

‘Not the beast,’ responded Paul, with a winging tone in his voice.

‘Fuck. I didn’t think you would mind,’ responded Mikey cautiously.

‘Only shitting you,’ said Paul in a more sober tone. ‘Fuck, I could never get it going. If you can, it’s yours.’

‘Thanks dad.’

‘Sure thing.’

‘Dad,’ said Mikey, in a somewhat serious tone.

‘What?’ responded his father with concern in his voice over Mikey’s tone.

‘You know the girl who came last night. Sheila.’

‘The blonde girl. Somewhat cute.’

‘Yeh, her.’

‘What about her,’ responded Paul, taking a sip on his beer.

‘Well,’ he spluttered somewhat, making Paul hassle him to get his words out.

‘Well, she is like the latest addition to the family.’

‘For fuck’s sake, you asked your girlfriend to move in with you?’

‘Well, I kind of had to. There’s a reason.’

Paul smiled. He knew the reason. ‘She’s up the fucking duff, isn’t she?’

Mikey nodded.

‘Great. Grandfather already. And in the prime of my life, too.’

Paul came over, patted his son on the back, and said, ‘This home is her home, if she wants it. Ok. Family is family. Now you know I don’t give a shit about you marrying her or not. I once proposed to your own mother, but she just laughed in my face. I had a ring ready and everything. So that means a lot less to me than you think. So, she is family either way.’

‘Thanks dad,’ responded Mikey, pleased at his father’s grace.

‘Only, make sure it is a boy.’

‘Sure thing, dad.’

The next few weeks were a brighter spot in the life of Mikey Robinson. Sheila came around a lot, watching him tinker away at the beast, and the bulge grew slightly, or so it seemed to Mikey, each time. He was about to be a family man.

He had considered the stupidest of things – buying her a ring and asking her to marry him. Of course, she didn’t believe in marriage – society’s way of controlling women, she would quickly point out to him. But, you never could tell in the end. Sometimes people changed. Mikey sure had. Sometimes what you thought was right you later regret and change tacks on – sometimes, for someone like Sheila Davies, becoming a mother might make the thing instinctive rather than intellectual.

He decided, in the end, he would give it a go. He would buy a ring and propose anyway. Just in case. He went to a jewellers in the city mall, found a cheap enough ring with a tiny diamond, paid out the money his grandpa had given to him, and looked at it time and time again that day, walking back home, walking with his future in his pocket.

She came around that afternoon, after school. It was Thursday, and she looked good. Almost as if she were glowing – like she was ready to be a mother. He took her off to the side of the field and they talked their usual shit for a while and then he kissed her softly and produced the ring.

‘What the fuck is that, Mikey?’

‘It’s a ring.’

‘I know it’s a fucking ring. And what are you going to do with it?’

‘Look, I don’t know. I know you say you don’t believe in that shit, and it has never been a big issue to me or my family. But, somehow, in this shitty world, in this shitty life on the edge, I would like to at least get something right. If the kid could have married parent’s before it was born, it would be legit – in the old fashioned sense. That might, in the scheme of things, make it a bit easier on him or her in the end. I think it’s the right thing to do, okay.’

She looked up into his face, noticing his sincerity, and then looked at the ring. Despite thinking she should know better, she took it out of its box and tried it on. It fitted perfectly – absolutely perfectly.

‘Is that a yes?’ he asked her.

‘You’re still a dickhead,’ she responded.

‘But is that a yes?’

And she smiled at him, and he knew.

Chapter Six

Mikey was nervous. Today was the day. The Robinson family were not the richest residents of their town – in fact, in terms of the spectrum of social wealth, they were near, if not, the absolute bottom of the social hierarchy. But this was a special day. This was a one of a kind.

Paul had some savings – savings which he didn’t normally talk about – and he allocated to his son just enough for a basic wedding, with a few trappings. The trappings consisted of a spiffy wedding cake, a decent outfit rental for Danny and Mikey, and enough for the honeymoon. Mikey was grateful.

When all was said and done, despite their very questionable status as such, the Uniting Church did not refuse them the wedding in their chapel as members of their church. Sheila had no particular religious beliefs to speak of, but the elderly pastor still remembered baptizing both of the lads, and would not refuse Mikey on his big day.

He’d had to buy yet another ring – but it was simply a gold band which didn’t cost the earth which, again, Grandpa John provided the cash for. They had had a single wedding rehearsal which the pastor had arranged, and they both had vows which they had agreed on. There was nothing to do with serving or honouring the other person, but they agreed to be dedicated to each other. The pastor, somewhat used to liberal members in his church, didn’t mind – he’d seen that all before.

‘Do you, Michael John Robinson, take Sheila Jane Davies as your lawfully wedded wife? Do you promise to dedicate your life to her, forsaking all others? To Cherish her and show her your love?’

‘I do,’ responded Mikey, looking with love into Sheila’s eyes.

The pastor turned to Sheila.

‘Do you, Sheila Jane Davies, take Michael John Robinson as your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to dedicate your life to him, forsaking all others? To Cherish him and show him your love?’

She looked at him and, coyly, said ‘I guess so.’

The pastor didn’t blink an eyelid and said ‘The Ring,’ to Danny.

Danny produced the golden band, handed it to Mikey, who put it on the end of Sheila’s finger.

‘Repeat after me,’ continued the pastor. ‘With this ring, I thee wed.’

‘With this ring, I thee wed,’ said Mikey, putting the ring onto Sheila’s finger, who blushed severely.

‘By the power invested in me as a steward of God Almighty and as a servant of the Lord Jesus Christ, I now declare thee man and wife. You may kiss the bride.’

And they kissed.

And it was beautiful.

* * * * *

Life was good after that. For the Robinson family, ultimately, life turned out alright. When Mikey had finished school he moved with his small family to Canberra, and Danny soon followed him. He finished a university degree to ANU and graduated in Economics finishing his honours degree. He found himself, with the drive which had come into his life, capable of doing this. Danny found a new girlfriend in a certain ‘Lee Kim’ who had been a Pentecostal Christian but had become a Noahide. He felt like he had known her in a previous lifetime, and they were good together.

Old man John Robinson eventually parted for the next world, and Paul inherited the Cabin/Caravan. He found another lady later on in life and lived out his years, content enough.

It was later, as an older man, that Mikey Robinson truly found God. He found God, in prayer, and in his heart. Lee Kim gradually converted him to Noahide Faith and he became a member of ‘Assembly of the Divine Creator’ which a ‘Daniel Daly’ had formed in Canberra. It really suited his personal style.

He believed in God and an afterlife and, when he died, finding himself in a long queue suddenly, with a flashing sign on the sides of the wall of a large white room, he found himself in, saying ‘Welcome New Arrival’s to Joniquay – the Diamond City of Heaven. May Gabriel’s blessings be upon you.’ he quickly worked out were he was. A lady in front of him said ‘We’re in heaven. Aren’t we.’

‘I guess fucking so,’ said Mikey Robinson, and the lady laughed.

The End

Angels of Hope

Jael at the Fair

Jael looked at the clown’s heads turning from side to side. She put in the white ball, hoped for the best, and watched it land on number one. She closed her eyes then, just as an act of faith, and slowly put the other balls in. She opened her eyes, saw them all at number one, and smiled. ‘What is your prize? Choose whatever you want,’ said the man.

Jael smiled at him, and walked on, further into the Fair.

Jael looked at Gabriel, sitting near the small pond. She smiled at him. ‘How is Raphael, brother? Is he well?’

‘Yes. But he has a problem. He is jealous of Satan. Very jealous.’

‘Why would he be jealous of Satan?’

‘God has promised him rulership of the Realm for one million years because of Raphael’s arrogance towards him. Right at the end of his punishment. And Gabriel is most upset.’

‘Oh. Well, that’s life isn’t it. He probably should have learned his lessons from youth a little better, I guess. Don’t you think?’

Gabriel looked at her, puzzled on that, and slowly nodded.

Jael walked on further. Melanie and Daniel were sitting on a bench, hands held. Jael smiled softly to herself. Daniel had finally found a nice girl. Good for him.

Jael sat at the green grass at the edge of the fair, looking over the meadow. God is good. God is nice. God is kind. God is forgiving. God is graceful. God is merciful. God is love. And God is God. And that is good.

THE END

Angels of Hope

After the Fair

Jael slowly walked along the beach, quiet of heart, quiet of soul, quiet of mind. The fair for that year had come and gone, and here she was again, walking the few miles along the long and white, sandy beach, headed to her abode atop the cliffs at the far end of ‘Summervale’. So old now. So old. They had reached a ‘Googol’ years in their eternal home and it seemed to have been celebrated with a simple ‘This is life’ attitude. Which indeed was all it was in the end – just life.

Satan, now reborn after being dead to them for so long, was still finding his own way. Still challenging. Still adversarial. But now it was Raphael who opposed him, seeming to be finding his way into Gabriel’s own shoes, as if he expected to be the next ruler in the realm. But Raphael had a good heart – she trusted he knew what he was doing.

But, they were family in the end. All of them. The oldest of the angels of God all living in ‘Summervale’ – a beautiful and charming city, alongside a beautiful and charming shore line, in the heart of heaven. These days were warm and lazy. Long walks and long talks after dark, in a hazy world of bliss and peace. She’d had many lovers in her time here, but no permanent mate. It seemed she didn’t need that as much as she once suspected she might. Just a love from time to time to shake away the blues of loneliness - but then replaced by her solitary sojourn, gazing over the sparkling ocean every morning, eating her bacon and eggs, drinking her orange juice, lost in the love of God in this eternal dream of glory. What more could she really ask for?

She walked, peace in the very centre of her being, thinking over Gabriel’s parting words at the fair. ‘Methinks Gabriel is a wise angel. No, I know I am. So in that wisdom I will say that Satan must also express his heart, and we need worry not for his time of great adversarial adventure is truly something of the distant past. But we face an unknown future, dear Jael, and I question and wonder wether this hazy glory will in fact go on into perpetuity. For I sense, perhaps in shadows of distant past already once realized, that we are yet to be again, in another distant world, in another hazy time of dreaming.’ And he said no more.

Strange words. Strange ideas. Such a strange fate.

Yet, whatever would be would be, and for Jael, angel of God, she knew that in trusting the eternal glory of Father’s grand design, she would have perfect peace and consolation. And no more could she ask her eternal father than the glory of that simple truth. No more could she ask for than that.

And, running down to the water, feeling the cold, she ran home, suddenly happy of heart, looking forward ever so to the glorious new days of life her eternal creator blessed her with.

THE END

Angels of Hope

Life in Summervale

Jael walked along the beach from her home atop the cliffs at the end of Summervale drive, happily charting her way into town. Well, not a town exactly, as Summervale housed over a Trillion souls, a vast city in the heart of the realm of the heavenlies, along the central ocean of heaven, the vast ‘Inner Sea’. Heaven was known by many names to the Angels of Hope – the Realm of Eternity, or occasionally called the Realm of Infinity or the Splendid Realm of Glory but, mostly, just plain old heaven. Whatever else, it was were the angels and human children of God all lived, the humans coming there after their earthly sojourn. Earth had been created so long ago now, but heaven was even older still, and the firstborn of heaven, Gabriel, remembered back to a time in the dim and distant past when he trod the shores of heaven, fishing, hunting, playing and sleeping, soon to be blessed with his twin sister Aquariel’s presence, and then the other Angels of God. That was so long ago, Gabriel told every new arrival, and the memories were etched upon his heart with fondness and remembrance which grew deeper and more melancholic as the years and centuries passed on by. But that was life, Gabriel told everyone, and seemingly always would be the case.

Jael herself was ancient also, amongst the firstborn children. And in the long life she had been blessed with, like Gabriel she looked back with fond and sometimes sad memories of all that she had lived through in her long, eventful life.

Today she had a shopping bag, for she went in shopping in Summervale every other day, usually walking in to enjoy the beach front. There was a road into Summervale from her place atop the cliffs, but she did not drive into town very often. She was a natural, earthy type of person. Mechanical objects, while definitely serving a purpose, were still in some way not the way of life which Jael felt most naturally attuned to. A horse and carriage – now that was traditional, and that she could cope with all day long. Yet the mechanical beast of a car, with all its complex instruments – well even after all these millions of years it had still to capture her infatuations.

She continued along the mile long stretch and, soon, coming up to the walkpath, she came to the familiar entrance she used, and made her way over to the nearby mall which she most often visited.

* * * * *

It was Jake again. Again he was there, in the same seat even, and as much as she tried to tell herself it was just a coincidence, she somehow knew in her heart that he had been waiting for her. He waved, she got the point, and came over, sat down, and smiled warmly at him.

They drank juice, had some tacos, and chatted about this and that. He was human, but relations between humans and angels were very common. She knew, after a while, that he had indeed been waiting for her, because he confessed as such. And then, quite boldly, he stated his affections towards her and that he would like to spend time getting to know her.

She had been without a man for a while, and not known one in that time. Jake, though, seemed the genuine article. He seemed as if all he was representing about himself was genuinely the case, and, perhaps the deciding factor, he was extremely warm and friendly. Yes. Yes, she would entertain his company. It would make a change, and give her some good company for however long it turned out to be.

* * * * *

They sat on the veranda of her home, gazing out at the ocean. It was twilight, and the sky was a friendly, but rare green. It was haunting, and Jake had made lovely comments on the beauty of the sky. She was resting against him, taken with him now. It had been a week, and he had moved into the spare room just two nights ago. She’d seen no reason to refuse him, despite the short time they had really known each other. But he had been nothing but sincere, and his presence was welcoming. He loved her, now, and she knew it to be true. He followed her around, without trying to be too obvious about it. And he was always caressing her head with his hand, touching her gently, showing his sincerity. It was strange – she had never known such affections from a human – but it was in no way off-putting. In fact, quite the opposite. She did not know were it would go, this relationship, but at this moment she didn’t mind. Whatever would come of the love of Jake, well, perhaps God himself was mastermind behind this little romance. But she would not complain, she would open her heart, and see what destiny had in store for her. Whatever else it would give happy entertainment to a life which, perhaps, had just drifted into something of a hidden place, away from others. If it was meant to be, well she would find out in time. But for now she would enjoy his company, and be at peace with the new heart life had brought to her. And, of course, her bedroom life was likely to improve. And that was always a plus. Always a plus indeed.

THE END

Angels of Hope

Ménage a Trois

WARNING: CONTAINS EROTIC LANGUAGE – NOT SUITABLE FOR MINORS

‘This, Gloryel, is Jake.’

Gloryel took Jake’s hand, shook it, and noticed the way he looked her in the eye. An instant attraction. She looked guiltily at Jael, but she didn’t seem to notice, so she said nothing.

It was later on, they had been playing twister, and Jake had suggested they try nude twister jokingly. And then Gloryel had said ‘I’m up for it.’ Jael had looked at Gloryel, not sure what to make of that, but decided why not.

They giggled a lot, and after a while Jake’s manhood, which was standing at attention, seemed to always make it in front of Gloryel and Jael’s faces. And then Gloryel, her face right in front of Jael’s, suddenly had Jake’s glory right between them. And Gloryel smiled her wicked little smile, which Jael knew all too well in her older sister, and opened her mouth and took his phallus into her. Jael looked a little miffed, but decided it really was about time her and Jake got serious, so she helped lay Jake down on his back, and both sisters got to work with their tongues on his hard member.

It didn’t take long, and Gloryel was sitting on his face, Jake lapping at her femininity, when he shot his creamy load onto both of their faces. They both took their fingers, sucked the stuff onto their tongues and Gloryel, always being cheeky, suddenly lunged at Jael and pashed her, the two of them tasting creamy cum in each other’s mouth.

They fucked Jake hard that night, and the ménage a trios continued for many months, Gloryel staying with Jael for quite a while, before one day sighing saying she wanted to get back home.

When she had said her farewells and left the two of them, Jael just gave Jake a furious shake of the head, said ‘I hope you are happy,’ and stormed out the room. They didn’t sleep with each other for a month, but she finally forgave him, and they were an item again.

But she knew he emailed Gloryel regularly, and while she knew she shouldn’t be jealous, she was. Yet what else could the heart of Jael possibly be?

THE END

Angels of Hope

Lightning Strikes Twice

Lightning striking once is a rare enough phenomenon – that is, when it happens to you. But striking twice is enough to die for.

But Daniel didn’t care. Being struck by ‘Gloryel’, in all her majestic wrath, the goddess of thunder and lightning, didn’t upset him. Life went on, even with singed hair.

Daniel was a regular schmo – citizen of planet earth in the year 31,235 SC. A happy and thriving planet, interacting with the galactic human civilization, usually in a leading role. He was an earther – born here – very lucky by galactic standards, as earthers always received a lot of attention when travelling galactically. Every one wanted to know about homeworld, after all.

Daniel, that night, feeling better about having been struck by lightning that afternoon, was shocked when an ethereal looking spirit entered his room, talking with him, claiming to be the angel ‘Gloryel’ – goddess of Thunder and Lightning.

‘We are disappointed in you, Daniel. You are hardly acting angelic.’

‘Huh,’ said the bemused Daniel. ‘What… what the fuck are you?’

‘I am the angel Gloryel from heaven. Isn’t that obvious? I struck you with lightning to remind you of the mission you have here on earth. The sanctification of the human race, remember?’

‘You are kidding, aren’t you,’ responded Daniel. ‘Sanctification my butt. Who gives a fuck about religion.’

‘As I recall, your particular boast was that you would win more souls than even Moses. You haven’t even begun a ministry. Leaving it a little late aren’t you?’

‘Moses? You mean the Jewish nutter from years ago? Hell, why is he on your mind? Nobody I know gives a damn about Judaism. We’re into Astrology these days. Judaism is grandma’s religion. Fuck, I know over in Europe they still keep the old faith, but in Australia we never really liked it. Astrology – that is what we are into.’

‘Mmm. Yes, you are aren’t you? You don’t really seem to have much faith in God, do you?’

‘God? Does he really exist?’

‘Well I am here, aren’t I?’

‘I suppose you are. Well, what is my ministry, then? Should I be Jewish or something?’

‘No. Not Jewish. Noahide.’

‘Noahide? What does that mean?’

‘Descendant of Noah. Promote that. Get a move on. Your English speaking nations have had Noahide faith reserved for them – from ancient days. It is about time you got around to it.’

‘And my reward?’

‘You’ll see. Now get to it and go study. You have work to do.’

Later on that year Daniel had been studying at the Canberra synagogue, learning all about Karaite Noahide faith. There were a tiny smattering of them worldwide – a few hundred, and they weren’t anticipating any real growth, or really looking for it. Supposedly, from what the angel said, that was his job.

He started slowly, talking with people about his newfound faith and his divine commission from the angel Gloryel. And while he found resistance somewhat, after a time people began listening.

I guess this is what I am here for, he concluded after a while, and took to his task.

Eventually he found an ancient manuscript – the Gospel of Jesus of Nazareth – who was an ancient Jewish teacher of spiritual principles. He had attracted a following, but his movement had apparently only lasted a few decades according to the Jewish Encyclopaedia, before disappearing. Daniel decided to incorporate the tiny manuscript also into his teaching, as well as some of the other Jewish teachers of spirituality. Later he found another manuscript in a Yeshiva – the New Testament and a few books on Christianity. In fact, it had thrived. It had thrived for well over 2000 years and been huge, with Christian Churches everywhere, but had gradually fallen away with the coming of a Jewish Messianic figure. He had persuaded the Christians that Jesus was not the Messiah and they had abandoned the religion then. And then, apparently, the Rabbis had seen to it that knowledge of the Christian faith be destroyed in history. When the Christian era had ended, various Jewish denominations had spent around 5000 years locating all the old manuscripts and teachings on Christianity and destroying them – wiping the faith out of history. God’s true Messiah would not tolerate a rival.

So, initially, thinking that the supposed ‘Kosher’ Christian teaching which was found in various Jewish Yeshiva’s might be ok, he allowed it into the ‘Assembly of the Divine Creator’ and ‘Haven Noahide Fellowship’ which were the two official Karaite Noahide Assemblies still surviving worldwide – formed way back in the early times by another Daniel Daly. Very ironic, Daniel thought. Daniel then studied the faith for about 5 years, had risen to become pastor of the tiny assembly in Canberra and, the members agreeing that if he wanted to make something of the faith then ‘Why the hell not’ appointed him as the unofficial head of Karaite Noahide faith worldwide. They had a few Google groups and message boards they communicated on and, readily enough, Daniel seemed fine to lead them on an evangelistic crusade. ‘Really, we didn’t give much of a damn, Daniel,’ one of the members had said. ‘Usually people find this faith if it suits them. There is sweet fuck all you are supposed to do, mate. Just BEING is about it. Some of us in Australia still like Judaism a bit, but the Karaite Noahide thing works for us. I mean, sure, if you want to make something of it, feel free. We don’t really mind. But you don’t have to mate. It don’t require it.’ So Daniel, realizing that you could promote the hell out of this faith, or ignore it entirely, took to Gloryel’s commission and began his work.

And then he died, content, full of age, and Haven Noahide Fellowship had been established, as well as ‘Assembly of the Divine Creator’, into growing assemblies amongst the nations of the English speaking world.

When he got to heaven, he found Gloryel waiting for him in a large field.

‘Now listen, dear twin brother of mine. Your memories will slowly come back, and God is pleased with your effort on earth.’

‘What now?’

‘Back to the ways of eternity. You know, life in general. This, that, a bit of the other. Nothing too spectacular, apart from a happy and gentle flow in the spirit.’

‘And all my work? What had been the point?’

‘To groom souls for eternity.’

‘I see.’

‘Oh, you did a good job. So, come with me. We’ll go to Joniquay and you can live with me again. Your attitude has certainly improved since last time.’

‘Last time?’

‘You’ll find out on that soon enough.’

‘Oh.’

The End

Angels of Hope

The Dark Side of Gloryel

‘Gloryel. There’s an angel.’

‘So you like her, Daniel?’ inquired Klaudiel.

‘I should. I married her once.’

‘What happened?’

‘I saw her dark side. It scared me. She can do dark things, and not care. She can be a bitch, if she wants, and not give a damn. She can be really scary.’

‘Does she have a good side?’

‘Sure does, Klaudiel. She shows that to everyone. And, in truth, most of the time she’s an absolute gem.