19/XIX. The Value Of One (Remastered)

A ray of light loomed near Rhoda as she weakly stared beyond the windows of her hospital room.

The white drapes in her room made it more unbearable to the boring, uneventful day filled with check-ups, medicine intake, and talks with the nurse and doctor she absolutely hate the most.

All she can do was wither in the corner of the room and wait for her son to visit her.

That day was particularly hard to bear, there were birds cheerfully chirping outside of her window.

She was relocated on the first floor residents upon the request of her husband, one of the cardiologists of the hospital.

It must have taken a toll on her, this was her fourth year in the hospital, trying to fight her illness for her son and for her husband.

They were the only family she had in London, and there’s no other close relative nearby.

Her husband’s determination to keep her healthy and her son’s dedication in watching over her gave her the strength to fight off the tumor in her brain for four years.

It’s been short of a miracle that she’s still has her breathe after all those tests and operations and other therapies to make the tumor smaller.

She knew that the end is near, for her life, for the meantime, but she also believed that there was an afterlife. A paradise for those people who lived their lives believing there was a God, and there was good in everyone.

She realized that all the hope she holds needs to be released to the world and to her family, so that the misery may end.

She witnessed the downfall of their finances, her family had to sell their house which was hard-earned through the years of hard work of her husband, and her son needed to concentrate on his studies to be able to land a scholarship on one of the Ivy Leagues University – Harvard.

She tried to bargain with God, if you could give me a few more years, maybe healthy years, but she knew it was in vain.

There was already a feeling of impending doom and every day she could feel that Death was already walking amidst her, and that it will only take time that she would be brought to dust as she meets her Creator.

Before the last days of her life, one of the greatest sights she could see was an angel.

One day, she felt entirely light, it’s as if the heavy strain on her body put on by illness has been lifted up, but she knew that was an impossible feat.

No, she realized it was possible, a miracle may have happened, God conquered even death, so if He permits…

“Maybe… maybe He answered my prayer with a miracle.” She thought. She didn’t tell the doctors yet, she wanted to observe and confirm another day.

It’s not that she had doubts, but she doesn’t want everyone’s hopes up before confirmation. That’s how she realized that the end was near.

She woke up the next day, but the feeling of impending doom returned.

Her body resumed the painful moments she had the other day and the previous four years of that.

But something was different…

She remembered a pleasant dream from yesterday, one full of light and hope, a warmth that she will never forget.

After that day, she started to see in her peripheral vision, a boy wearing a hospital gown, outside of her room, peeking at the glass cut of the door to the hallway.

It wasn’t unusual. A lot of the children would peek around the room, especially in the morning.

But this one was quite odd, she thought. This one did not stare in curiosity, but his eyes were filled with hopelessness, just as I have. What does he want?

“Do you want to come in?” Rhoda stopped peeking out the window, and faced the boy at the other side of the room, from beyond the door.

The boy looked down, as if being ashamed that he was stalking her, but nonetheless, regained his confidence, and walked in nonchalantly into the room.

The boy appeared to be about fifteen years old, but his physical growth seemed to be stunted.

His eyes were sunken in insomnia, and his whole body displayed malnourishment, so skinny, and his eyes reflected no life.

“I’m sorry.” Those were the first words she heard from the boy. His awkward demeanor only told Rhoda that this boy was a good-natured one.

“For what?” She wanted to know more of his intentions.

“For staring, for making you uncomfortable.” He answered as he got close to the bed slowly stepping forward.

“You’re a patient here too?” She asked continuously, and he titled his head showing curiosity.

“You’re not afraid.” Those words kind of stood out and struck her heart.

“Of you? Why would I be?” She chuckled a little and titled her head the same way he did and smiled at him.

“No. Of Death.” A stranger talked about death to her before, another patient with stage four cancer, but after a week, she learned that that patient had long succumb to Death, but now, another patient was trying to relive the conversation.

“Are you really that curious?” She smiled sadly. Her mouth curved as if she’s happy, but her eyes glimmered and glittered in tears.

“No. I’m sorry.” That again.

“For what again? Don’t be sorry, if you’re going to make me uncomfortable again.” She scoffed, replying like she didn’t have pain opening her vocal chords.

“No, I’m sorry for making you remember bad things.” The boy looked down again, feeling awkward and sad. She reminded him of her own son.

“Am I that easy to read?” She stopped smiling and wanted to know the truth.

“For me, I guess.” He glanced back at her guiltily.

“What’s your name?” She continued in inquiring.

“Isn’t it rude to ask someone that before you introduce yourself?” He retorted, he didn’t want to get involved personally, but his actions made it this far.

“That’s not really fair, my name’s in the chart and in the room description.” Understandable, she’s not an idiot as well.

“Nathaniel Joseph, but you can call me Arthur.” She smiled and snickered at his answer, making him wonder more about her. “Pffffttt- hahhahahahah…”

“What?” She rubbed off on him, in a good way, as she laughed. He smiled and laughed as well.

“I just-” She shook her head in disbelief. “Who came up with your nickname?” She sincerely probed as if her life defended on the answer.

“It was my father. It was from the story of the sword of Excalibur.” He kept it simple this time. No retorting, no other questions.

“That’s you, right?” She kept on pushing her curiosity on him.

“Me?” He drew closer to the bed slowly, and sat gently down at the chair. He turned his head again the other way, like a parrot who was curious about something.

She smirked, “You were the one who made me feel better yesterday.” She tried to reason on her own, but there was a voice calling out to her that she needed to talk with this child before passing on.

“How did you come to that conclusion?” Other words for ‘How did you know?’ He observed her for a bit turning his head to another direction, patiently waiting for her response.

“There’s a voice… telling me.” Her answer seemed inadequate for a child who’s seeking for answers, but-

“Listen to the voice, what does it tell you?” Her smile was wiped off of her face. She listened to the voice intently.

Arthur knew that the ‘voice’ she was referring to was the Principality behind her, whispering into her ears, her needs and desires that require to be fulfilled before passing on.

Michael materialized in the spiritual world and met one of his brothers, Zmanel, a Principality, the angel of Time, the one who controls the continuum of time, its flow, and the elements within that specific time.

[Note: Zmanel means “Time Of God”]

“Michael, my Captain. I salute to the highest of the Hosts.” Zmanel knelt in front of his Captain.

Michael felt the fear in the room, not from the human, but from his brother.

“Stand up. How is Azrael and her choir?” He put his hands around him and hugged his brother tightly.

He wanted the fear to go away as it was an awful smell, a horrid one that cannot be enjoyed when it came from the ones that you loved the most.

“We’re all doing good according to Father’s plans.” Zmanel rose up and awkwardly received his brother’s hug.

It was an unusual gesture and he heard so differently from the rumors surrounding the captain.

“Are you the one who will guide her soul?” Michael expected the answer, but he wanted to hear it personally from his brother’s mouth.

“Yes, she- she will soon be reunited with Father.” They stared at her blankly, Michael sadly, and Zmanel exhibiting apathy for the human being.

“How many days left until-?” Michael already knew as he can see the Oracle of Life above each human’s heads, their timeline and span of life if God permits so.

“Seventeen days.” Zmanel replied. “Are you growing attached to this human?” He added and tapped on his brother’s shoulder.

“No, I just want to hear it from you.” Michael answered untruthfully, but Zmanel knew Time.

He knew that Michael will grow attached to humanity someday. It can’t be helped. It’s one of Father’s plans. He thought.

“Be strong, brother.” Zmanel offered his words of encouragement to Michael as he disappeared from the spiritual world.

“It tells me to listen to you.” Rhoda’s words pulled Arthur back in the physical plane as Michael returned from the spiritual plane.

Arthur only smiled back, this time, warmer, and his eyes sparkled in gladness.

“Have you heard about the story of Creation?” He knew that Rhoda was already a saved person - the light of her soul has a connection to the Chief of Heavens.

Before she passed on, that’s how the angel and Rhoda met, as she opened the door to her heart and to her room for the angel to come inside.

After a few days, Arthur returned with Matthew, and the third time, he returned with Jackson.

-------------------- // --------------------

“Art, thank you, again.” Jackson seemed a little kinder to Arthur after the visit from the hospital. Edward was glad to see that his children were warmer than when he was as a child.

They all sat at the dinner table, conversing about school and many things in the university, and Edward ate silently as he saw his children talk about their school life and many more.

“I’m glad that you all have quickly acclimated to the university life, especially, you two, Arthur and Johnny.” Matthew sprang in the conversation as well.

This should be the atmosphere in this home. I… wanted this for a family life. I didn’t expect that Emily isn’t here, but… I guess, this will do for now. Edward smiled sweetly at his children.

“It was quite a bit easy to adjust since we just have to listen and try to work in group projects, other than that, it’s easy.” Johnny bragged as he opened his mouth full of meat.

“Johnny…” Arthur plucked out his napkin and wiped off the crumbs off Johnny’s face.

“Art, it’s alright, we’re at home, no one’s gonna see.” Johnny grabbed the napkin and wiped his mouth himself.

Arthur scoffed and smirked. “Don’t play with your food, you guys.” Eddie warned the two, while having crumbs in his mouth as well.

“You’re as dirty as them. Pfft-hahahha…” Jackson wiped the crumbs off of Eddie’s face.

“I’m glad that you’ve opened up yourself to the kids, Jackson.” Edward broke his silence in the dinner table. He smiled as Eddie grabbed the napkin off of Jackson’s hands.

“I bear no resentment to anyone in this house, Mister-“ Jackson replied as he grinned at Edward’s comment.

“Dad, call me Dad, or Father, whatever you want.” He opened his heart to the kid as well.

“Uhm… I…” It’s still too awkward and early for Jackson to treat him as a father-figure. His dad is still alive, and-

“Master Smith, I think we should give time for Jackson to adjust, especially with you as his father.” Matthew chimed in, thankfully, Jackson diverted his gaze from Edward to Matthew in a jiff.

“I understand.” Edward smiled sheepishly.

Dinner went great for everyone and after eating, it was time to wash the dishes. Normally, the butler would be the one doing it, but today-

“Matt, can you fix my study room, please. I… got some books cluttered in there.” Edward picked up the plates from Matthew’s hands.

“Yes, Sir.” The butler rushed upstairs to finish clearing the books.

“Kids, can you help me with these plates?” He called his children. Johnny picked up the plates from the table. Eddie prepared the pitcher of water to wash the plates, and Arthur opened the water to rub the dishes with soap.

Jackson tapped Eddie’s shoulders and Johnny’s and signaled them to go upstairs.

Edward smiled and took over the pitcher of water, while Arthur washed the plates with the dishwasher soap.

“How’s everything here?” Edward began the conversation, it was too awkward from their last one, but nevertheless, since Arthur doesn’t want to reconcile, it was his choice to do so.

“It’s better than when we were in Los Angeles.” Arthur replied simply, looking at the dishes that he’s washing.

Empty and devoid with emotions, amongst the children, Jackson and Arthur were the only ones that knew Edward was working under the mafia, Arthur was the only one who knew it was an undercover mission.

“Are you happy, here?” Edward’s question surprised Arthur that he stopped washing the dishes for a minute, thinking carefully about his reply and resumed the chore.

“It’s- It’s bearable.” His eyes filled with gloom again.

Nothing changed from his expressions in America to his expressions here in London.

“How?” Edward wanted to know his child’s opinion, honestly, more than anything in the world.

He wanted to be a father who can listen, a very different one from his own father.

“Father and Mother’s absence back in L.A. was bearable because of Matthew, but…” He paused. “…even though our family had grown here in London, it’s still not a reason for a celebration. It’s…” Arthur sighed as he scrubbed another plate and passed it to his father.

“Because of my work?” Edward gladly received the plate and washed it in the pitcher of water, and placed it on the dryer.

“Yes.” Arthur answered quickly.

“Have you and Jackson told Johnny and Eddie about-” Edward worried that the atmosphere in the home may be wrecked by knowing his current job.

“No.” Arthur’s quick replies lifted Edward’s anxieties and heavy heart about his job. “If you’re so afraid that they’ll find out, then quit it. Fear stems from evil.” His son’s straightforward words stabbed him in his heart.

Arthur sighed and put down the scrub and went straight upstairs before Edward could say another word.

“Sir, I’ll take over the dishes.” Matthew took the plates off of Edward’s hands and hoped that he could follow his son upstairs.

“What should I do, Matt?” The running water echoed through the room. Matthew’s silence only meant one thing – ‘Master, you should figure this out on your own, they’re your children.’

The next few days were only a blink of an eye, and when time came, Arthur, Johnny, Eddie, and Jackson visited Rhoda again for the last time.

Arthur knew this was the last day, Zmanel roamed around her soul in the room, and her complexion grew paler each day.

This day was particularly hard to watch. Rhoda already lost her motor skills, and can only move her eyes and open her mouth a few.

Zack knew the discourse of these signs and symptoms and chose to step back as Jackson entered the room.

“Mom…” Jackson rushed in his mother’s room and gently grabbed her hands and placed it on his face.

She couldn’t grab it tightly, all she could do was to mimic the words, “I love you.” with her mouth since her hands couldn’t already move or sign.

Even the way she moved her mouth became too hard and short of a miracle. Her eyes only glistened in hope for her young son.

“It’s time to go.” Zmanel shone brightly in the spiritual plane, and pulled out Rhoda’s soul out of her body.

Little by little, the glimmer in her eyes disappeared, so as her life, and the monitor that beeps alongside her heart slowly and weakly beeped until it flat-lined.

“No… no, no, no…” Zack frantically held his wife’s hands as it was slipping away.

He couldn’t do anything about it, Rhoda already signed the DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) form and he knows that resuscitating her will mean that his wife’s suffering will prolong more.

As the father and son duo cried their hearts out. The three children approached Jackson and shed tears with him beside his mother’s bed.

In the spiritual plane, before Zmanel can take Rhoda up in Heavens, Michael called out.

“Zmanel!” The angel already lifted Rhoda up to the air with his jet-black wings when he turned around and saw Michael in the spiritual plane calling out.

“Michael, brother.” The lift they gained suddenly collapsed, and the two gently landed on the ground, Zmanel tucked in his wings, and Rhoda’s soul approached the white angel.

“Could I have a minute with her?” Michael requested an audience with the soul.

“Anything for the Captain.” His brother inclined. He disappeared for a while in the plane, while the soul and the white angel loomed each other.

“Who are you? And why… do you feel so familiar?” Rhoda seemed to remember the warmth that she felt the first time Arthur came in the hospital room.

“Arthur.” That one word made her remember her son, her husband, and everyone that she knew on Earth.

“Wait, where are we?” She wondered around, she could see her body, her husband, her son, and three kids crying at the side of her bed, the hospital, in plain view, but she had no physical form, no hands, no head, nothing, just a tiny speck of light.

“You’re in the spiritual plane, you’re already dead.” Those words were not shocking to her, since she sees with her own eyes that her physical body died.

“You’re Arthur?” Rhoda wanted to confirm it with her own ears, or rather, with Michael’s own mouth.

“Yes. For you, for opening up your heart to me, what is your desire for your son?” Michael offered her a gift before she departs from this world.

She looked at her son, desperate to give him a hug, but cannot, since she has no physical appearance anymore, and that she cannot touch anything in the physical realm.

“My only desire is that he grows up fearing and loving God.” She smiled sadly but gladly as he turned back to the angel.

“I will make sure to guide him in the right path.” Michael assured the soul, and called out, “Zmanel!”

The Principality appeared before their eyes and- “Please take her home.” Zmanel saluted the Captain and launched his wings, and flew her back to Heaven to meet her Creator.

“Gladly. Be safe, brother.” The last words he heard from one of his brothers.

Michael smiled in sadness and in gladness as well. He noticed that Zmanel didn’t exude fear now in their second meeting.

As Michael returned to the physical plane, he saw a sight that reminded him of Abel’s death as the whole family grieved beside Rhoda’s bedside.

Rhoda’s doctor came in, and pronounced the time of death, and Zack and Jackson were left alone in the room to say their goodbyes.

“What’s going to happen now, Art?” Johnny whispered in the hallway to the morgue.

“We’re going to have a funeral for the next few days.” Arthur replied solemnly, he held back his emotions just as he entered the hallway.

He felt a Fallen roaming along the walls of the hospital, especially, in the room of Death.

The three kids sat quietly in the corner of the hallway in the physical realm and while they behaved in the physical plane, Michael materialized once more in the spiritual plane.

“Show yourself.” He entered the room of Death, and shouted to announce his presence.

“Michael, brother, you’re here.” And from beyond the shadows, one of the Fallen Powers appeared, Yomiel.

[Note: Yomiel means “Day Of God”. In the Book of Enoch, Yomiel was one of the Fallen Powers or Watchers that inhabited the Earth and produced Nephilims.]

“What are you doing here?” Michael questioned the rebel as they were supposed to be in Hell, ‘supposed to be’ was a mere statement, but all these years as Samael discovered the way to possess, and the way to change their forms, they started to live on Earth disguised as humans.

Though the Fallen only submitted themselves to Samael, or Lucifer, they still fear Michael as he was as powerful as God.

“I am here living as one of the humans.” Yomiel truthfully answered in fear.

The smell he exude was the same with Zmanel when he first arrived in the hospital, but even though it’s unpleasant for Michael, he wanted the fear to be instilled on the rebels, on the Fallen.

“Leave this place at once if you do not want to be purged permanently.” His firm instruction shook Yomiel to his core.

He had no choice but to obey, unless he wanted to be destroyed.

“Yes, your wish is my command.” He didn’t want to end up like one of his siblings from the Great Rebellion thousand years ago.

Stripped, ripped, and torn into pieces, their existences never were revived even after the punishment for the rebels came.

The dark aura and the evil presence disappeared quickly as Michael instructed Yomiel. He appeared as a shadow and left as a shadow in the spiritual realm.

“Day of God, the day you fell, you ate and enjoyed the sunset of every living being here on Earth.” Michael dematerialized in the spiritual realm and returned to the physical realm once more.

Edward arranged Rhoda’s funeral as per Jackson’s request, and Matthew commissioned one of the churches in the city to host the funeral for Rhoda.

They held the funeral service for seven days. The end of the seventh day, they buried Rhoda in one of the graves in City of London Cemetery and Crematorium.

As they buried Rhoda and the people, one by one, left the burial site, the only ones that stayed were family – Zack, Jackson, Edward, Eddie, Arthur, Johnny, and Matthew.

It wasn’t the first funeral that Michael attended, but this was the second time that he was close to the family and the one that was being buried.

The first time was Abel, and seeing Adam and Eve wail their hearts out as they bury their son made an impression to his heart.

Death was unnatural, it brings pain and suffering for the people left behind, and it gives a thorn in your heart- that will never be removed.