I Can't Hang

I felt like a fool at first, getting down on my knees and folding my hands in prayer. I was like the people I rolled my eyes at back when I was alive, the people who were doing what they felt was right, which had nothing to do with me.

Foggy memories came back to me. I remembered sitting in a church when I was super little, putting my hands together and reciting words that the preacher said – words that I didn’t have any idea what they meant, and words that had no soul behind them in my case. I just said them to look like I was fitting in. We weren’t a real church-going family. I mean, when I was a kid we went a couple times, but when I grew older and kinda told them I didn’t buy any of it, my parents sorta shrugged and we stopped going.

I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t even know how to speak. How should I have spoken to my maker? I mean, I couldn’t just be like, “Hey dude, can I get a hand?”; it’d have to be a little formal, I guessed.

Then again, I already had spoken to God. A couple times, actually. Granted, they weren’t on real good terms, but still, it counted for something. And I was kind of a smartass when I talked to the fella, too. They didn’t seem real peeved about that.

So I was on my knees, the cement scraping away at the fabric of my jeans. My cold and clammy hands were pressed together after I slid up the sleeves of my sweatshirt. I kinda pointed myself up at Heaven, too.

But I was at a loss for words. I didn’t even know for sure if I was supposed to say anything out loud or say it all in my head.

I sat there for a while, just opening and closing my mouth when I tried to find something intelligent to say, when James came over and kneeled down right next to me. I felt his hand on my shoulder and I opened my eyes.

He was grinning. “Don’t know where to start?”

“…Not really.” I shuffled a little bit. “Haven’t done this in a while. I’m a little rusty.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just say what comes naturally.”

I sighed. Well, it was more of a forced huff of breath than a real cleansing sigh. “Okay, so…well…um…”

James chuckled. I elbowed him and he shut up.

“God, I’m sorry. Really sorry. I mean, I…I screwed up. A lot. I should’a watched where I was going with that building, and I should’a never fell off…”

I paused. I wasn’t anywhere near done, but I didn’t know what else to say.

“I wish I could go back in time and just…I don’t know…not have done that. I know I broke one of your rules and made you angry, and it didn’t help that the news blew it outta proportion. But…now, ‘cause of the demons and angels and everything, everyone can kinda see you and all of the divine stuff, and…nevermind. I won’t talk to you about that.”

When my eyes were closed, I saw stars. I saw a bunch of swirling colors and neon streaks, rather than the blackness of my eyelids that I’d seen all the time up to that point. I don’t know if it was because I was just doin’ crap I never did before, or ‘cause of something else, but I didn’t exactly hate it.

“But I’m sorry. I really am. I do wanna be an angel. I’m sorry for not believing in you before, though I don’t think you minded that in the first place. I’m sorry for falling, and showing my face on TV, and I’m sorry I staked out with Brady and tried to make a plan to get back in. I regret it all and I think it’s stupid that I did it in the first place. I should’a just accepted all of this in the first place and then Manhattan wouldn’t be destroyed.”

There was a pang in my heart. I sucked in a breath through clenched teeth and carried on.

“I don’t know if it’s possible for you to maybe help Brady out, too? ‘Cause, I mean, if I’m goin’ to Hell anyway, I don’t want to go alone.”

James scooted closer to me.

That goddamn rope wrapped around my chest again, tightening my lungs. I didn’t think praying and crying was such a good idea, but I swallowed the tears and tried to choke something else out. It didn’t work. Just the thought of being rejected here struck terror into my heart.

“I know you already gave me a bunch of chances to redeem myself and I screwed ‘em all up, but I mean it this time. I wanna be forgiven. Really, I do,” I continued. It hurt like hell. My hands were shaking and all and a drop of sweat was dripping down my chest. “I don’t care if I gotta do all your hard labor to be in Heaven, but I wanna be an angel. I didn’t even get the chance to fly on my own yet.”

The breeze picked up, more vicious and wild than ever before. Tiny mist droplets smacked me in the face.

“And I’m sorry for messing everything up. This never would’a happened if it weren’t for me. Angels wouldn’t be dying. Brady wouldn’t be dead and James wouldn’t be a traitor to you. So if you kick me to the curb anyway, I understand. But at least wake Brady up or let James back in, please. So I’m sorry. And I kinda hate myself right now, but I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

I opened my eyes. James nudged me and coughed, “Amen.”

“Oh, yeah. Amen.”

I sobbed. When my hands separated, they were bright red and covered in a thin layer of sweat. My vision was so blurry I could hardly make out the land in front of me, and my face felt like I’d just stuck my head in a pool of water. I didn’t know if it would help. I didn’t know if God’d take pity upon me.

But the wind was blowing hard. My hood was like a parachute and nearly knocked me over with all of the air it took in; I had to close my eyes once again in order to prevent anything from getting into them. James, next to me, crossed his arms and tried desperately to keep himself warm, but the breeze was picking up fast. His shoelaces were becoming untied from the wind alone. Our hair was flattened against our heads.

He shuffled over to me and huddled me close, taking my head and pressing it against his chest. His wings curled around me, keeping me safe. The rain stopped falling on my head. I couldn’t hear anything except the beating of my own heart. I cried a little bit but stopped a few minutes after I started. I didn’t have a reason to cry anymore – what was done was done.

I tried to peek up and see if Brady’s body was still there, but I couldn’t. St. James’s grip on me was too tight. For the first time in my entire life it felt like I finally had a guardian angel.

All around us, the world was moving, but we were still. I grew warm. I felt safe. Rain was starting to pound down harder and distract me from hearing my heart, but no matter what, I stayed dry.

It felt like ages. We were trapped in a storm and couldn’t get out, and the only things passing through my head were thoughts of fear. Not even a flicker of hope lit in my mind. It never occurred to me that maybe, just possibly, something remotely good was happening.

But that’s life, you know? You hope for the best and expect the worst.

I held on tight like James was my lifeline, the only stable thing in my afterlife. And I held him close for the five minutes we were stuck like that, weathering the rain and wind pouring down from the heavens.

But suddenly, it all stopped. It was quiet. No sirens. No crumbling destruction. My heart was quiet.

James’s wings uncurled from around me, and he drew them back in. He let go of my head and shoulders, and slowly, I backed away. No longer did it feel as though we were sitting on a slab of lifeless concrete.

I opened my eyes, and everything around me was white.