I Can't Hang

I sorta kinda wished that I was alive again so that maybe I could die and maybe stop freezing. I literally couldn’t walk two steps without having to hear my teeth chatter and shove my hands further into my pockets so far I thought the seams would burst.

Snot dripped from my nose. I didn’t know if angels were able to get sick, but apparently they were able to get runny noses.

St. James coughed and then sneezed. Hm.

Brady grit his teeth and looked down at him, and James just looked away immediately like he was ashamed of doing that.

“Do you know anywhere we could stay?” I asked St. James, looking around the icy terrain and failing to find anything.

“Um, kinda,” he coughed, “it’s like an ice cave. Uh…I stayed there…for a few hours. Then I had to do stuff.”

How old was he? Twelve?

“That’s great. Could ya tell us where it is?” Brady urged, sighing. “You’re a lot heavier than you look.”

St. James blushed. “It’s up on top of this hill up here.” He pointed forward at a land mass the three of us were about to end up going over, and Brady and I shared a look of relief.

We took off walking faster than we’d ever walked before and after clambering up thick ice I doubt could ever melt, we reached the top. Sure enough, there was a huge wall of white that was cracked right down the middle, leaving a small triangle-shaped gap that looked just big enough for a trio.

“Yeah!” Brady yelped, almost forgetting that he was holding someone in his arms. St. James slipped a little but grabbed onto his shoulder; Brady hastily rescued him with a hushed apology.

I’d lost all the feeling in my fingers, feet, nose, lips, and ears. Naturally, I was the first one who set foot inside. It wasn’t any warmer than the air outside, granted; but it sure beat being pelted by wind and having to exert physical energy.

Brady had to duck because of his height. But before he could enter he had to let St. James go, who stumbled inside with grunts and grimaces, scraping his elbows on the harsh ice of the Antarctic. I could tell Brady wanted to laugh – he had that expression of pent-up hilarity – but instead he pretended nothing happened and just took a seat next to James.

I pulled the sleeves of my sweatshirt over my hands and blew into them to create a little warmth. It hardly worked. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t have given to be back up in Heaven that moment.

Brady heaved a heavy sigh and looked at the ceiling of the mini cave. “So…here we are.”

“Yep,” I grunted.

St. James said nothing.

“We’re just gonna chill here tonight, and then tomorrow we’re gonna go back up to Heaven,” he’d continued, acting like a born leader. “Hopefully then, your wings’ll be healed up.”

“Hopefully,” St. James commented hopelessly.

“You’re optimistic,” I sneered.

He only bit his lip.

“How long’ve you been dead for? How old are you?” Brady asked him. He uncurled his wings from behind his back and used one to reach over to St. James and pull him into warmth.

“I’ve been dead since ’58 and I’m nineteen,” he simply said.

“So…fifty-two years.”

James nodded.

Brady cocked his head in concern, nonchalantly throwing his arms over his knees. “D’ya ever get your wings replaced?”

“I…what? You can do that?” he asked with a face full of wonder.

I snickered. I dunno what was funny though.

“Yeah,” Brady smirked, raising an eyebrow, “that’s probably why yours suck so bad.”

“Oh. I thought they were just supposed to last an eternity,” he mumbled.

Brady rolled his eyes and chuckled. “They last ‘bout twenty years, tops. I had to get mine redone in ’02.”

We fell into another silence with nothing to drag us out. Right then it was all about just making it until tomorrow so we could get back to Heaven and get on with our lives. Well…our afterlives.

I cocked my head and turned to Brady. “Do you think God’ll let us off the hook after doing this?”

“Whattaya mean?” he smirked, looking at me like I had “STUPID” written across my forehead.

I looked at the icy ground. “I mean, do They hold grudges about this kinda stuff?”

St. James chuckled quietly to himself. “That depends on what you did. If it’s something small, it won’t be a big deal.”

“No, I messed up a couple times when I first died,” Brady elaborated. “I almost brought the wrong guy up. But then another angel caught me when I was about to send him to Heaven, and so it was an emergency averted. Happened again a couple years later. God said I had to stay up in Heaven for a few weeks on probation or somethin’, but yeah, They let me off the hook, kinda.”

“Oh,” I said.

We sat there trying to warm up some more, when suddenly Brady cocked his head over at the younger man. “You’re alright with lettin’ a couple’a convicts take you back to Heaven, right?”

“Convicts?” St. James questioned.

“We’re not convicts, Brady,” I grunted. “We just…got in a little trouble, that’s all.”

James pursed his lips, glanced up at Brady, and then went back to shivering his ass off.

Pretty soon after that, I got used to the cold. It wasn’t making me want to rip my eyeballs out or resort to peeing all over myself to keep warm anymore. In fact, it sort of lulled me into a daze. Not quite sleep, but I wasn’t totally awake. For a moment I felt comfortable.

But Brady, of course, had to ruin that…

“You know what? It ain’t hardly even three in the afternoon yet. I say we go back up to Heaven now,” he cut in bluntly, making me jerk awake.

St. James looked at him worriedly and cocked his head. “But…but…my wings.”

“Yeah,” I reasoned. “We can’t go if we’re exhausted. Even if we’re angels…”

Brady rolled his eyes and waved his hand as if to say we were being ridiculous. “Come on, you cats are wimps. Look, Jimmy, I’ll carry ya again. I just don’t wanna be stuck here for a day with you guys complaining.”

James and I exchanged an expression of tired anger.

Brady stood up and walked out of our little cavern, motioning for us to go too. When we didn’t budge, he put his hands on his hips and flipped his hair.

“If you don’t come now, then you’ll have to go without me. And you won’t know how to get back up,” he threatened.

“What would Jesus do?” I sneered, half-smiling.

He pressed his lips into a firm thin line and grunted something fierce.

“Just get up and come with me, alright? Please,” he begged. “The sooner we get back to Heaven, the better.”

We eventually gave in, heading back to our clouds up in the sky. And through the whole trip, I couldn’t help but to be unnerved. There was something unsettling about this. The pit of my stomach was turning itself inside out all over the place and my mind was racing.

Something was up. I could tell. I had just hardly gotten a grasp on Heaven at the time, but I was pretty sure something was about to go wrong.

Horribly, horribly wrong.

We rose up past the clouds in the everlasting sky until we reached Heaven – the gates welcomed us with their golden glow. However, the guy running the gate had a scowl written across his face and shot us one hell of a dirty look.

I didn’t know if angels could get in trouble for swearing inside their head, but I hoped they couldn’t. ‘Cause there was a flurry of curses inside me.

“Brady and Kyle?” the man said disapprovingly.

We all looked at each other – even James – a bit scared. “Yeah?” Brady said with a hint of hesitation.

He sighed heavily and folded his hands in front of himself. “God would like to have a word with you.”

My heart dropped.

“B-but, St. Ja -” I started.

“Just go! He’s waiting for you!” the gatekeeper snapped, opening the pearly gates for us.

Brady, St. James and I scurried inside, terrified of what was to become of us. And despite him not being instructed to go with us, James went along too. When we stepped into Heaven officially, like the instance when Brady and I came back from Manhattan, there were a thousand angel eyes locked on us.

Shit.