Near Touch

Chapter 28: I Go On

"But first, come with me," Henry said, striding decisively toward the tree line. "Quickly, before we lose daylight. There's something I need to show you."

A brief frown marred Amy's forehead. Curiosity she thought had long perished was slowly taking over the fury she had cultivated so carefully against Henry. The grey, frozen earth beneath her feet seemed to adsorb her pain with each unsure step.

Soon they reached a resplendent white oak straddling what appeared to be the edge of a tiny hill. The tree adamantly refused to shed some of the amber leaves closer to its heavy trunk, in spite of the dispirited winter that had conquered the forest - the worst in a hundred years. The drop uncomfortably reminded Amy of the fall she had suffered many nights ago when she had recklessly chased a dark jacket through a freak storm.

Henry motioned with his bony fingers. "Let's go around. There's a gentler slope on the sides."

With a sharp ding of familiarity, Amy realized it was the same pit. In the darkness, she had fallen straight into an impressive hollow underneath the ancient oak. A half-smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she recollected more of that night. Amy said, "Why have you brought me here?"

"Turn around."

Nestled perfectly at the base of the white oak in the web of its pale, crisscrossing roots, was a weathered statue of an angel with a crown of thorns on her head. Her dusky skin had cracked, making her forlorn expression even more prominent. The angel's majestic afro - somehow carved perfectly into dark bronze - glittered with dirt and snow. Grey, wild, and free - just like Amy remembered it when the woman had been alive.

Unable to tear her eyes away, Amy muttered, "Henry... is that - is that your -"

"This statue was a gift to Selaena, former General of the Psychopomps and Cardinal of the Northwest, after she gave up her immortality to be with the man she loved - my grandfather. She became Selene Wigmore and they ran, searching for a sanctuary from town to town," said Henry, observing Amy's face. "But wherever they went, the statue followed. No matter what she did, it couldn't be destroyed. You can still see that charred spot by its right arm where Mee-maw tried a controlled detonation...

But nothing worked. Finally, she gave up and let it be - dumped the thing at the edge of the forest and covered it up with leaves, soil, and stones." Henry took out a thin votive candle from his jacket and crouched near the statue's feet, placing it on a flat rock before it. With a flick of his lighter, a small flame illuminated the natural alcove. "Come spring it all washes away."

Henry was quiet for a few moments, half of his face in shadow. "Whatever you saw in the gym that day... it changed everything, Amy. Knowing more could put you and those you love in danger. I hope you understand that."

Amy closed her eyes, letting his words seep into her soul. Her life had lost its predictability the second Caleb met her gaze in the school hallway. She no longer yearned for that succor. But now, Henry was offering her the final exit on this highway to hell. Even if her rational, logical, black-and-white world had been destroyed, there was still time to rebuild; restore the comfort of the known.

Her promise to Caleb echoed in Amy's mind and she shrugged off the allure of an easy way out. Taking a deep, readying breath, she fixed her attention on Henry, and demanded, "Don't hold back. Tell me everything."

Henry sat on a large rock near his grandmother's statue. Her large, broken wings seemed to shield his lanky frame. "Virgil came to town a few days after Caleb's death, sensing the presence of an errant soul. At first, it was difficult for him to discern the identity of the dead. No one had died in town, and since it had only been a short while, no one was reported missing. Usually, being guides to the souls of the dead, psychopomps can easily spot them in a crowd. Caleb was different. His aura wasn't as strong as the typical lost soul. It took Virgil almost a week to confirm his target.