An Angel's Vice

Chapter 2 - Rally Your Soldiers

September 16th, 2008

-Desilusión by Nico Play-

One can never have too many candles to pray for the living. Sorry, to better put it: to pray for someone who is unknown as dead or alive. Every other day is a new candle, replacing the one that has been left burning, untouched, until the flame has reduced the wax to a sorry puddle. 120 candles for the love of her life. 120 candles and prayers not enough, sometimes 120 candles and prayers too many. At some point, one candle felt underwhelming, like it'd never suffice, and led to the building of an altar in a special corner of a brand new church in Vice Angeles territory, surrounded by a dozen candles that was watched closely for any flame that might die out. And a flame that goes with the wind of God can only be a sign of misfortune.

Just yesterday, all twelve blew out simultaneously.

With one fist clutching the dangling beads of protection gifted to her by a Santera she sought out as a last resort hours ago, Candy lets it swirl to its own volition over an unlit candle, speaking frantic words of prayer in her native tongue with eyes screwed shut and her heart wide open. She then lights it and moves on to another, repeating the process, dragging her bare feet across the humid cement floors of the private Church basement she just moved Lauren's altar to. Sandalwood incense burns and coats the air she breathes, so do the scented oils of cedarwood, yarrow, juniper and cinnamon smeared onto the glass candles of the Saints she calls upon. When all are lit, Candy closes her eyes once more and drops to her knees, muttering to the Saints like she was instructed to do, pleading, begging for guidance and help, offering up her own angels that surround her to support the woman in the framed picture placed in the center above the candles. She puts the blessed green and black beads around Lauren's picture, touches three fingers to her lips, then touches the area of Lauren's forehead and sighs.

"Dios camina contigo. Los angeles y los santos camina contigo. Si yo no puede protegerte, ellos pueden. Te estoy esperando. Vuelva a mí viva." (God walks with you. The angels and the saints walks with you. If I can't protect you, they can. Come back to me alive.)

A chill shocks Candy's body into hyper vigilance and her eyes dart around the room, searching for a draft that doesn't exist down here. She eyeballs the flames...how they've grown so tall, dancing courageously with freedom and without loyalty to any direction. Two of them crackle and pop, another stands out from the rest with a blue flame and it happens to be the wildest one of the bunch. Her lips twitch as she blinks excessively through building tears, refusing the dire message presenting itself strongly to her.

"Pero dónde estás, Lauren??" she urges through gritted teeth, reaching for the picture frame, a breath hitching in her throat. "Dime dónde estás así que puedo buscarte. Por favor, Señor, ayudarla...ayudame. No puedo seguir como así." (But where are you, Lauren?? Tell me where you are so I can find you. Please, Lord, help her...help me. I can't go on like this.)

Candy's head drops when she puts the photo back in its place on the white table cloth. She sniffles and wipes her face, gradually turning away from Lauren's photo, reluctant to walk away. She always takes a step forward then circles back in hopes a reason to remain there will come to her. Candy fears Lauren is absolutely dead somewhere out of reach, sinking to the bottom of an ocean or lying in a ditch somewhere, maybe behind a dumpster waiting to be found out by an innocent bystander minding their business. Visions of her death cloud her thoughts, filling her with more dread than she has ever faced in a lifetime. And who's to say none of this is true either? If it weren't, she wouldn't be receiving negative communication from the spirits since the start of her prayers for the former gang leader.

"No. No puedo créerlo, no." (I can't believe it.)

She grasps her neck contracting with pressure, unable to retain regulated breathing. Candy wanders around the dark basement, fighting for air as well as against those sickening images rotting her brain. She quickly replaces them with images of youth, of innocence, an introduction to love, private moments shared with Lauren when no one else was in the picture, of all the times she's enveloped her in the kind of safety closest to the one God provides. And as she remembers Lauren that way, fear escapes her. Death releases its grip and comfort comes in for its shift. Candy stands there with her eyes closed, imagining and feeling the green eyed girl's assertive touch on her skin, her body pressing up against hers from behind. She can almost feel Lauren's hands sweeping her hair to the other side of her neck before she'd tuck her chin into the dip between her neck and shoulders, hear the gravel in her voice as she famously asks her, "Qué quieres, veneno?"