A Case Against Nihilism: A Novel; Part 1

This is the first five chapters of a new WIP novel. It's about 7K words.

A Case Against Nihilism

Chapter 1

My Failure

Chapter 1

         It was the summer of 1995 when I introduced myself to the charge I was to oversee, Roger Durst.
         Roger was five at the time and lived an already deplorable life. His mother was addicted to crack cocaine and had a habit of getting into violent relationships with men who, in the end, only cared about the fact that she was selling her body. These men were dismissive and downright abusive towards Roger, even at that age.
         When I made my introduction to Roger, he was by himself in the living room of the dilapidated one-bedroom apartment he shared with his mother. While seated on the carpeted floor, carpet which had numerous burns in it from cigarettes, he was playing with his action figures. The room was rather odorous from years of cigarettes and illicit drugs being smoked.
         Roger was understandably alarmed when I made my sudden reveal into the living room. Obviously, he had never seen an angel of the All-Seeing One before, so I had to calm him down before he ran out of the room in terror.
         “Do not be afraid,” I said. “My name is Hallel.”
         Roger sprang up from the floor prepared to flee. “You! You just popped up out of nothing!” he yelled with his gaping jade eyes and colorless face.
         “Yes. That is because the All-Seeing One, or “God” if you prefer, has chosen for me to be your guardian angel and mentor for your life.”
         Roger sat back down and meekly asked, “…Really?”
         I knelt and sat across from Roger. The filth of the carpet was not a concern of mine since I did not technically exist on the same plane of existence Earth stands in.
         “Yes. I have never been told what His criteria are for selecting which people receive this guidance, but I believe He is purposeful and chooses people who are destined for greatness. As God, He has the ability to know everything that will transpire from the creation of the world to its inevitable end.”
         Roger appeared confused and asked, “What does ‘destined for greatness’ mean?”
         “It means you will live a life that will be extraordinary in some way.”
         At that, Roger’s eyes lit up and he asked, “Really?”
         “I would imagine so.”
         One aspect of my personality, one that I would like to adjust, is that I feel disgusted with myself when I bear false witness or even just lie by omission. You see, Roger’s circumstances led me to believe that he would accomplish next to nothing with his life. I didn’t have faith in Roger to do anything remarkable of any sort. He was clearly at the bottom of the social hierarchy and I had my doubts about him.
         To be honest, I have my biases. I prefer to be the guardian angel for cultured or upper-class people in Western countries. Yes, Roger was fortunate enough to be Caucasian and be born in New York City, but those were probably his only advantages in life. Then again, he didn’t have any disabilities or medical conditions at age five, so he was most likely to live a long period of time if he made prudent decisions with his health.
         Still, Roger was my charge and I was tasked to offer him guidance and mentorship over the course of his life. If Charles Bukowski could overcome adversity and be seen as a literary great, then perhaps I could mold Roger into a similar life path.
         “Are your action figures at war with each other?” I asked Roger.
         “Yeah. Have you been watching me? Do you know I make up stories with them?”
         I smiled. “Yes. I am incapable of reading your thoughts, but I have watched you play as a child. The reason I asked is because I also enjoy telling stories. In fact, I write a novel about the life of every single one of my charges after their inevitable passing.”
         “Wow,” he said with a grin. “I can’t believe God gave me a guardian angel. And you really will help me?”
         “Well, there are some things I cannot do..” From here, I carefully elaborated for Roger that I am incapable of interacting with anything on Earth. I informed him he would be the only one able to see or hear me and that I cannot read minds. Furthermore, I did not have any magic that could help him, either. All I could do was give advice and moral support.
         Roger then began to ask question after question about the nature of reality. I explained that the All-Seeing One and His angels don’t live in Heaven, but rather a plane of existence called Heaven Above. Roger wanted to know if he would one day go to Heaven, and I informed him that the All-Seeing One was the sole arbiter of that, with the exception of people who sold their souls to Satan. Roger was already familiar with the fact that if you do selfish things or sell your soul, you go to Hell. He asked about Jesus, and I told the truth that the All-Seeing One gave a piece of His divine spark to live a horrible, though spectacular, life as the Christ.
         We talked for over two hours and he eventually said something which I found significant in this first conversation.
         “Hallel,” he began, “why are you being nice to me? You’re the first big person that has ever talked to me at all like a friend.”
         “I…” I stammered. “I am nice to everyone. As an angel, you can see it is part of my character to want to assist you as much as I possibly can.”
         “Does that mean you will be like a father to me?”
         I was put off by that question, but I smiled and said, “I will try my best. Your true father is not the man who made your mother pregnant, but the All-Seeing One.”
         If Roger could physically hug me, he would have at that.
         

Chapter 2

         In Heaven Above, a massive expanse of water had small, carpeted islets of green poking up from the waveless, midnight blue sea. On each islet rested a wooden cottage, and in each cottage lived an angel. If desired, an angel could freely fly with their feathery wings to the other islets or fly into the veil of clouds above to speak to the All-Seeing One. Despite these clouds, Heaven Above was a bright, luminous place of peace.
         The year was now 2009 and Hallel felt he had been mentally scarred. As an angel, Hallel was incapable of sleeping, and thus, was incapable of dreaming. However, his experiences as a guardian angel for humanity made him presume that if he were capable of dreaming, he would have horrific nightmares about the fate of his last charge.
         Unfortunately, he had no human vices to cope with the trauma. There was no alcohol nor drugs in Heaven Above. Angels had no sexual desires, either. The only five activities Hallel was capable of at all were to continue working on My Failure, read one of his previous novels, converse with the other angels or the All-Seeing One, resume his duty of being a guardian angel, or sever his wings and become a “Wanderer” on Earth.
         Hallel lacked the desire to do any of those five things. He didn’t feel capable of writing My Failure without feeling dejected; he didn’t want to read; he was, among the angels, a recluse who had only one friend, Sebastian; he didn’t want to be a guardian angel anymore; and he didn’t see any value in being a Wanderer.
         He didn’t want to do anything. There was nothing, nothing, that he wanted to do. He didn’t want to live, he didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to serve the All-Seeing One, he expected and wanted nothing.
         Still, he would eventually have to do something. The All-Seeing One would eventually force him into being a guardian angel again, and that meant acting as a mentor for someone throughout life. That purpose, mentorship, now meant nothing to him. He didn’t want to do it ever again.
         Thus, with nothing to do and no desire to do anything, Hallel quietly lay on his back on his maroon cushioned mattress in his cottage and stared at the wooden ceiling. That too felt meaningless to him.
         Height-wise, Hallel was over six feet tall and had long blonde hair that reached down to the small of his back. Adorned in a white robe that never could get dirty or stained, he was dressed in the same manner as all of the All-Seeing One’s angels. His eyes were blue and his wings had a mighty wingspan of about nine feet. His facial features matched his gentle and previous dove-like nature. But now…
         Now his nature was moody, depressed, irritable, and bitter. He saw everything in the All-Seeing One’s universe as pointless and sickening. There had been only one angel before him who had vocally expressed thoughts similar to what Hallel was experiencing, and he was even more wicked than the All-Seeing One. Hallel, however, restrained himself from saying outright blasphemous words whenever he spoke to Sebastian and reserved himself to obfuscate his feelings.
         Hallel turned onto his side and now looked at the massive bookcase of the novels he had penned. Scrolls upon scrolls rested there and he now reconsidered reading one of them, but that too was meaningless. Everything was meaningless and Hallel felt disgust that he would eventually have to finish My Failure to add to the collection.
         Hallel turned onto his other side to see where his desk, blank parchment, inkwell, and fountain pens rested. Should he work on My Failure? Would completing it act as catharsis for him? Could he ever get out of this slump of despair? Could he do anything-
         Suddenly, there was a violent rap on the door of his cottage. Could it be Sebastian? Or worse, could it be the foreboding expected messenger for the All-Seeing One: Cupid?
         Hallel got to his feet, walked across his hardwood floors, and opened the door. Unfortunately, it was Cupid.
         “Hallel, you have this message from the All-Seeing One.”
         Cupid’s chubby pink hand extended to offer a parchment scroll that contained Hallel’s instructions. Cupid was short, barely over four feet tall, and rather pudgy. He had light blue eyes and a mess of blond hair; all of these features made him appear childlike. A burlap satchel full of more scrolls was strapped around him over his white robe.
         Hallel neglected to take the scroll and asked, “Is it a demand I act as a guardian for someone?”
         “Yep; it’s been two months. The All-Seeing One insists that you return to your duty.”
         Shaking his head with his eyes closed, Hallel said, “Tell Him I refuse. I am not ready.”
         Cupid puffed and said, “You do realize that if you continue to refuse, He will sever your wings and you’ll be forced to live as a Wanderer on Earth, do you? You have tested His infinite patience long enough.”
         Hallel shuddered at the thought of being a Wanderer. As a Wanderer on Earth, he would be a nameless, faceless husk of his previous self that would be forced to live on Earth until the All-Seeing One eventually ended the universe.
         Cupid recognized Hallel’s unease and said, “Well, are you going to take the scroll or not? I have other deliveries to make.”
         Sighing with defeat, Hallel asked, “Who is the charge? Who is it this time?”
         Cupid opened the scroll and glanced it over. “According to the All-Seeing One’s foresight, it’s a Caucasian girl that will be christened ‘Beatrix Silvester’ by Catholic parents—no, wait, just a Catholic father—in Southern California in the United States. That’s all it says.”
         Another American?
         Hallel realized that maybe he should be grateful that the All-Seeing One was assigning him someone who might be easier to guide and mentor into a writer than someone in the third world. Still, the last charge was an American, and that had gone extremely horrible.
         “Well?” piped in Cupid. “Do you plan to do it or not?”
         Hallel buried his face in his hands and groaned.

Chapter 3

         Twenty-eight-year-old Clement Silvester had foolishly ignored all of the warning signs, but in the December of 2014, his wife, Jessie Silvester, finally left him.
         Whenever he discussed this with his parents, siblings, or members of the local Catholic church he attended everyday for Mass, they all said they could see the true nature of Jessie immediately.
         “Jessie left you? Well, I guess we all could have seen that coming…”
         “Yeah, I figured Jessie would leave you as soon as I heard her belittle you for being Catholic.”
         “I knew she’d leave you, Clement. That woman was bad news.”
         “Damn, Clement, I don’t know what to say. Maybe you shouldn’t marry the first woman that is nice to you until you know her better?”
         “Oh, Clement. You sure know how to pick ‘em!”
         How? How could he have been the only one that didn’t see this coming from a mile away?
         Perhaps not the only one. Clement and Jessie had a four-year-old daughter, Beatrix. Beatrix was too young and naive to see anything wrong with either of her two parents. To Clement, she seemed to idolize her mother and legitimately believe she was a good woman. This made it very difficult for Clement to speak candidly about Jessie’s true nature after she left him. How is a father supposed to tell his four-year-old daughter that her mother was an opportunistic and manipulative serpent that didn’t believe in anything more important than her momentary pleasure?
         The conversation Clement had with Beatrix the night Jessie officially left forever was a rather difficult one. During the entire discussion, he racked his brains trying to explain it in such a way as to not poison his daughter against her vile, heartless mother. Besides, it was a week before Christmas; Beatrix should be thinking more about the gifts Santa (secretly Clement) would be bringing Christmas Day after Midnight Mass. Not only that, but the milestone of Beatrix’s fifth birthday would be on December twenty-eight, which was something she was obviously excited for.
         As for how it happened that night, it seemed like Clement’s attempts to save his marriage were disregarded even before he had a chance to articulate them.
         It was a Saturday night and Jessie was, as Clement would say to Beatrix, “out with her friends.” In actuality, Jessie was drinking and snorting cocaine with another man. Clement stayed up late that night in the dinky one-bedroom apartment the three of them lived in and worked on his online business. Beatrix had already been dressed in her pink footie pajamas before being tucked in to sleep in her crib (Clement was frugal by not investing in a toddler-size bed) in the bedroom while Clement fought against the temptation to go to sleep. He always stayed up late waiting for Jessie to eventually return, and he always did it without complaint.
         Perhaps “without complaint” was inaccurate. Every hour Jessie was “out with her friends,” Clement would send a text message asking about her whereabouts. Sometimes, he got a response. Other times, Jessie wouldn’t show up until the next morning. Those mornings were usually awkward since any attempts to address the issue were immediately shot down by Jessie aggressively.
         As Clement worked that night while seated at his desk, he would suddenly look at the front door of the apartment every time he thought he heard keys or the doorknob move. Every time it happened to be a false alarm, he would then stare at the Christmas tree he decorated with Beatrix (where Jessie was during this activity, Clement didn’t know), then the presents his parents and siblings had bought for the family, then his cell phone in anticipation of a text message that never arrived, and then finally back to his computer to continue working on his fledgling online business.
         As far as appearances were concerned, Jessie was the more attractive of the pair. Though Clement didn’t have a poor physique, his face was, as Jessie would put it, “hopelessly average.” His sandy blond hair and glasses made him look too much like the famous serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer (which was a fact that Jessie would rub in his face to lower his self-worth). There had been multiple times when Jessie would crudely comment on how “fuckable” other men in their social circle or strangers were as a tactic to make Clement feel even worse about himself. Clement, on the other hand, was in the habit of always bolstering Jessie’s ego by complimenting her appearance every time she demanded it.
         As for Jessie, she had long, straight chestnut brown hair that she would meticulously curl before outings as well as an otherwise beautiful face that was prone to fits of acne and blackheads that she invested heavily in masking. She had a good body that she was not afraid to show off. Clement secretly felt she dressed like a slut sometimes and could never bring himself to articulate to her that a married woman shouldn’t flaunt her body for other men.
         When Clement questioned why he had gotten into a relationship with Jessie in the first place, it had been because she was the first woman to tolerate his commitments to Catholicism without too much complaint. Jessie wasn’t Catholic, but rather said she was a nihilist when she was sober and a hedonist when she was under the influence in a state of ecstasy. Clement repeatedly looked past the warning signs that Jessie was abusing cocaine (cocaine he couldn’t realistically afford since she didn’t work), and merely considered himself fortunate that he was able to find a woman at all despite his low income.
         And then there was Beatrix. Even at age four, she was pretty since she took after Jessie more than Clement. Clement was certain that “Daddy’s little princess” would mature into a beautiful woman and rather easily be able to marry. His biggest fear was that if she grew up to become against Catholicism, she would rebelliously engage in premarital sex and get pregnant as a teen. True, he engaged in premarital sex with the few women he had been in relationships with, but he at least had the common sense to wear a condom beforehand.
         Finally, he heard the jingling of keys as the front door of the apartment opened. Jessie, wearing a little black dress, burst in and she never looked more full of herself as she did that night. He immediately got out of his office chair to approach her.
         “Babe, where have you been? I-”
         “Shut up, Clement. I came for my clothes.”
         Clement didn’t understand.
         “What do you mean-”
         Jessie cut him off and exploded in rage. “I said ‘shut up,’ you useless sack of shit! I will not allow this family to be such a burden any longer!”
         Clement had been verbally abused and insulted by Jessie before. It was just a character flaw of hers that he had come to tolerate meekly over the course of their six-year relationship. Still, he didn’t understand what Jessie was getting at.
         “You see,” she began in a sinister tone, “I’ve been having an affair with a man—a better man—and his father just died so he will inherit over seven hundred thousand dollars. He’s rich and we’ve been celebrating all night. For Christmas, we’re going to go to the Caribbean and live like royalty. And you know what that means?”
         Clement didn’t have the time to articulate any kind of a response.
         “It means I never have to see your useless ass or our useless daughter ever again! I’m rich and with a man that I actually respect! I’m leaving you and you two can go flounder on the streets homeless for all I care!”
         Clement was dumbstruck and could only say, “What?”
         “Are you stupid? I’m leaving you! I’m rich and never will have to spread my legs for your stupid Catholic ass ever again! Our marriage is over!”
         The color drained from Clement’s face as he just now realized how wicked the woman he had chosen to marry and have a child with “secretly” was. “But… Jessie, why?”
         “Because I don’t love or respect you! You’re useless! This marriage has been irrelevant to me this entire time! It’s meaningless to me!”
         “Our marriage has been meaningless to you?”
         “Yes!” Jessie hollered.
         “But… I still don’t… I still don’t understand?”
         Jessie began, “Don’t you see? I don’t care about you; I don’t care about Beatrix; I don’t care about fucking Christmas or going to Mass with you; I don’t care! I don’t care! I don’t care! I DON’T CARE! It’s meaningless!”
         Suddenly, there was banging on the opposite side of the living room wall; Jessie’s yelling had clearly awoken and disturbed the neighbors. The pair stared at the wall briefly before returning to the matter at hand. In a whisper of a voice to accommodate the neighbors, Clement asked, “You think it’s meaningless?”
         “YES! It’s so meaningless, that I’m going to live it up with the guy I’ve been fucking behind your back for as long as the money lasts! My number one priority in life is my pleasure!”
         After a pause, Clement was about to say something to try to save his marriage, but Beatrix’s soft, childlike voice broke the silence.
         “Mommy? Why are you yelling at Daddy?”
 Jessie gave a scornful laugh as she marched past Beatrix into the bedroom to pack her clothes.
         Beatrix merely stared at Clement in confusion. He broke the awkward silence and said, “Beatrix, I want you to wait over here.”
         Beatrix approached him and Clement lifted her up to plop her in his office chair. Then, with buckling knees and an upset stomach, he timidly entered the bedroom to see that Jessie was messily packing her clothes into one of their suitcases.
         “Jessie, why are you doing this? Why are you abandoning your family?”
         Jessie laughed contemptuously.
         Clement tried again and said, “Don’t you… don’t you feel any responsibility to me or Beatrix? Beatrix will need a mother and-!”
         “Shut up, Clement! I don’t care about responsibility! I don’t care!”
         “So you don’t care about anything?”
         “No!”
         Jessie finished stuffing her clothes into the suitcase and then faced Clement one last time. “Here, you can keep this garbage.” She then removed both her engagement ring and wedding band and tossed them at Clement; he allowed them to fall to the carpeted floor and lay there undisturbed. From here, Jessie picked up the suitcase and left Clement standing there in a state of bewilderment.
         A few moments later, the front door of the apartment slammed closed and, after a long pause, Clement listlessly walked back to the living room. With no one else present, he then looked at Beatrix.
         “Daddy?”
         While successfully fighting back tears, Clement embraced Beatrix and silently lamented his failed marriage. Though he was close to his parents and siblings, he had previously thought there were only two people he would devote himself fully towards making happy. Now that Jessie had just walked out of his life and Beatrix’s, it was just one. He made a promise to himself that night: he would ensure that Beatrix would live the best possible life. He may never be able to get the money to spoil her rotten, but he would be the best possible father for “Daddy’s little princess” no matter what.
         

Chapter 4

         Hallel had silently and patiently watched Beatrix Silvester throughout her life as a fetus, then a baby, then toddler, then as a kind but naive five-year-old. During the occasions when watching her was inconsequential (which there were a lot of since Beatrix lacked agency), he would spend his time in Heaven Above and attempt to work on My Failure or converse with Sebastian. Even considering the fact that My Failure was being written and edited entirely by hand, this was the longest it had ever taken for him to complete a novel. Simply put, he had still not gotten over what had happened to his last charge and was still bitter and depressed.
         Though he considered himself a mature person, he had come to petulantly resent Beatrix as if it were somehow her fault that he had to be a guardian angel yet again. He knew this was wrong of him; the true villain was the All-Seeing One. How could the master of the universe be cruel enough to continue this demented puppet show of lives? These lives were not only at times horrific, but could sometimes end far earlier than they should. Not only that, but there were the lives of people that would unfairly get condemned to Hell, as well. Should those people have to suffer? Was there any purposefulness to the All-Seeing One’s actions?
         Indeed, the All-Seeing One was wicked and sadistic. Hallel had “understood” this before his last charge, but now he “felt” it. Now he silently cursed the All-Seeing One’s cosmic justice and the system He had created. Knowing that the All-Seeing One had orchestrated the life of his last charge, someone Hallel had grown attached to and pitied, he had sunk into despair and was concerned about the unwanted influence over Beatrix’s life he would have.
         How Beatrix’s life would turn out was a mystery to Hallel that he wanted nothing to do with. Her father, Clement Silvester, had succeeded at imparting Catholic values on her, but she was too young and naive to question this at all. Indeed, she had yet to understand just how evil humanity could be and that this was exactly how “God” preferred it. Hallel was well aware that free will was an illusion and that the All-Seeing One’s “divine providence” was His and only His choice in the universe.
         All things considered, Hallel had brought himself to question how, as expected of him, he would shape and mold Beatrix’s life? As he attempted with all of his charges, he would try to make her a writer, but what else? Should he “spoil” Catholicism for her? Should he ever tell her that her religion is wrong? Should he say that “God” is objectively evil and immoral?
         No, he shouldn’t. If he were to ever have a “real” conversation with Beatrix, he may become attached again. That was the pitfall he had fallen into last time and he had to reserve himself to not caring about young Beatrix. No matter what, he could not repeat the mistake he had made. If it meant outright lying to her, then so be it. He always hated himself for telling lies in the past, but now he loathed himself knowing he would be living a lie to not ruin the positive influence her father and his religion were going to have on her life.
         Knowing he would have to lie to Beatrix, he delayed their inevitable first conversation. Her father was a nearly constant presence and Beatrix was very rarely by herself. Even when she was by herself about to go to sleep in the crib her father had yet to sell or discard, Hallel still couldn’t bring himself to talk to her. This seemed like the only possible time he could talk to her, so, on one of those nights when he was certain her father would be too busy with his online business to check on her in the bedroom she slept in, he made his sudden reveal as she attempted to rest her eyes and fall asleep.
         Standing over her in her crib with his hands rested on the top rail of it, he spoke calmly to her. “Beatrix, do not be afraid. My name is Hallel.”
         Beatrix opened her eyes, stared at Hallel for an uncomfortable amount of time, and then gave a warm, closed-lip smile before saying, “Are you an angel?”
         Hallel was somewhat surprised and, strangely enough when considering the inner turmoil he had felt in preparation for this meeting, was touched that Beatrix wasn’t frightened by his sudden appearance. This was unique compared to what usually happened when he finally introduced himself to a charge.
         “Yes, the All-Seeing One, or “God” as I imagine you would prefer, has ordered me to be your guardian angel and mentor for life.”
         Beatrix looked briefly perplexed and said, “So you had no choice in the matter? You don’t look happy.”
         “I… I…”
         Hallel couldn’t think of an answer. This had been the most difficult introduction by far, mainly because he didn’t want to be a guardian angel to Beatrix. How was he supposed to answer her question? On the one hand, he valued honesty and loathed himself when he told lies. He could have explained the truth that “God” was sadistic enough to sever his wings and force him to live on Earth as a Wanderer if he had refused, but that explanation would most certainly crush her. Yet, on the other hand, having to constantly lie to her would make him a miserable wreck and probably cause him to resent her even more than he already did.
         In the end, he said, “It was not my decision to make. I am His servant and He has chosen for me to guide you.”
         “Why?”
         “He…” Again, Hallel struggled to come up with a satisfactory answer. Before his last charge, he believed that the All-Seeing One purposely chose people who were in some way great or extraordinary. However, the experience with his last charge showed him that this factor, while still true in a sense, was irrelevant of the happiness of the charge. Beatrix had a long life ahead of her; Hallel didn’t want to inadvertently disappoint her with the possibility that it could turn out badly.
         Beatrix pulled herself up into a sitting position and said, “You pause and think hard every time you say something. It’s like you’re walking on eggshells.”
         “I am,” Hallel hastily said. He silently cursed to himself for being too honest before saying, “It is just that I legitimately do not know how to be the best possible guardian angel for you. I would like to, but I do not know what to say to you.”
         Beatrix looked thoughtful and said, “You could tell me about God. Is He nice to you?”
         No, He isn’t, actually…
         “Yes, He is a kind and merciful god.”
         “Is Heaven nice?”
         Hallel responded honestly and said, “Heaven is a place where you are not alive in the same sense as you are now. It is a blissful, peaceful state of mind until the end of the universe. I, God, and the other angels don’t actually live there; instead, we live in Heaven Above.”
         An inquisitive look passed over Beatrix’s face and she asked, “And is Heaven Above nice?”
         Hallel replied, “Heaven Above is a peaceful place, but, to be honest, I am somewhat of a recluse among the angels there.”
         Beatrix’s face twisted in confusion and she asked, “What does ‘recluse’ mean?”
         “It means I am a loner. I only have one friend.”
         “You mean God?”
         No, of course not.
         “Yes… God is my friend.”
         Hallel, if it were physically possible for angels to do so, would have vomited for telling that lie. Somehow, Beatrix noticed this and considered her next words thoughtfully.
         “I would love for God to be my friend, too, but I know He can’t be because He’s really my Father and everyone else’s Father at the same time, as well. I have two fathers: my Daddy in the other room, and God.”
         Hallel didn’t want to criticize Beatrix for her childlike sentiment (a sentiment he himself had similarly told was the case for his last charge), yet still said with a slight trace of skepticism, “You consider God to be your Father?”
         “Yes, just like my Daddy in the other room. The thing is, though, a father can’t be your friend until after you grow up and become big. So, for now, I don’t have any friends, unless you count my cousins. Luckily, I start kindergarten soon.”
         “I see…” was all Hallel could say.
         “So,” began Beatrix, “if you are my mentor, does that mean you are my third father? Or are you only my friend?”
         Hallel’s mind went back to the summer of 1996. He knew that to avoid making the same mistake, he had to disappoint Beatrix and specify that he wasn’t her father in any way shape or form. But still, to crush the spirits of this little girl would cause even more inner turmoil for Hallel.
         Finally, Hallel broke eye contact and repeated the same answer he had given his last charge. “I will try my best…”
         Beatrix’s shoulders slumped and she gave a long exhale. “Does that mean we are only friends?”
         Hallel felt his chest tighten and ground his teeth. His grip on the top rail of the crib tightened and he could feel his heart pound faster seeing the look of disappointment on Beatrix’s face. Considering how the All-Seeing One was well aware of exactly how this conversation would go before choosing Hallel to be Beatrix’s guardian angel, Hallel wanted to curse Him for putting him in this situation. He knew he had just hurt her feelings, and he knew he had to say something positive to her if he was to continue with this charade of a mentorship.
         “If… If you wish to think of me as a father, you may, but as I have never been a father before, I do not know if I can see you as a daughter.”
         Beatrix’s head tilted and she asked, “So you have never been a father before?”
         Hallel closed his eyes and thought of his last charge yet again. Eventually, he replied, “No.”
         After an uncomfortable silence, Beatrix said, “You have a really long face. You look too sad to be an angel.”
         “I am sad.”
         Beatrix smiled and said, “I get sad sometimes, too. Mainly it’s whenever me or Daddy talk about Mommy, who ran away from us before Christmas. But you know what makes me happy when I get sad thinking about her?”
         “What?” Hallel asked.
         “I remember that she’s an imperfect child of God, just like everyone else. It’s something called ‘sin.’ It means we do the wrong thing or something selfish. But God will forgive us of our sins. He will forgive us no matter what, so I know that I should forgive Mommy, too.”
         “That’s…” began Hallel reluctantly. What the hell was he even supposed to say to that?
         “Yes?” asked Beatrix cheerfully.
         “That’s a really beautiful thing for you to say, Beatrix.”
         Beatrix nodded and said, “Yes, so maybe whenever you get sad, you should remember that God loved the whole world so much, He made Himself into a person to die on the cross. Jesus died for our sins so we could go to Heaven.”
         It was here that Hallel realized, with utmost certainty, that he could NEVER ruin Catholicism for her. This little girl, though objectively wrong about the All-Seeing One, was possibly one of the nicest people on the planet. Oh, she was most certainly wrong and may grow out of this phase of childlike naivety, but until then, he could never bond with her in the same manner he did with the other charges. He could never expose the part of him that cursed the very god that she loved and adored like a father. To see this little girl fall into the same despair he had since his last charge would destroy him just as much as the fate of the last charge destroyed him.
         “Hallel?”
         Hallel’s attention was directed back to the conversation. “Yes, Beatrix?”
         “Are there girl angels? Why did God pick a boy angel for me?”
         Hallel said, “There are female angels; as for why the All-Seeing One picked me specifically, I do not know.”
         “You still have long hair like a girl, though. Do you know about girl things?”
         “No, I do not,” Hallel said while shaking his head.
         “Do you think Daddy will find someone else to be my Mommy?”
         “Only the All-Seeing One can see the future. He already knows exactly how everything will happen.”
         “That’s something called God’s providence, right? God has a plan, but He lets us freely choose it.”
         “Yes,” Hallel lied. There was no choice in the matter.
         Beatrix then smiled widely and said, “If that’s the case, then He had to have picked you since we will help each other. You can teach me, and I can make you happy when you get sad.”
         Hallel felt queasy hearing that. Being Beatrix’s guardian angel was going to test his divine patience far more than any charge before him had. He felt like a fraud; a shifty, sneaky, illegitimate fraud. Beatrix deserved better.
         

Chapter 5

My Failure

Chapter 8

         I made numerous mistakes mentoring Roger throughout his life. Looking back, I can see one particular turning point in the guidance I gave him during February of 1997.
         He had recently turned seven years old and was suffering the effects of malnutrition. He was several inches shorter than his male classmates of the same age and his muscles were wasted. To see his emaciated frame when in a state of undress would repulse most people. Combined with very few clean clothes to wear everyday and the fact that Roger struggled to excel academically compared to his classmates, he was a prime target for violent bullying.
         On one occasion of this bullying, his lunch provided by the school was stolen from him and he had been physically incapable of fighting back successfully to, if not win it back, then end this mischief from his aggressors. With nothing to eat and no friends to converse with, Roger sought a private place—during his elementary school years, this was a rarely used boy’s restroom—and asked for my guidance.
         “Hallel!” he called out once in the privacy of the odorous restroom.
         I appeared before him and said, “Yes, Roger.”
         “They took my lunch. What am I going to eat?”
         Staring at the ground, I uttered, “Perhaps your mother has purchased food this morning so you can eat at home?”
         He shook his head at me and spat out, “You know that’s not true! She eats with Jason! There’s not going to be anything for me to eat for the rest of the day… I’m starving.”
         “I am sorry, Roger. Perhaps an adult staff member at this school could-”
         “You know them! You know they won’t help! You’re the only one who can!”
         I shook my head and said, “There is nothing I can-”
         “Yes, there is! You have to have magic to turn rocks into bread, or you can take over someone’s mind to give me money for food, or you can-”
         At this point, I cut him off and firmly said, “Roger, I do not possess magic. There is nothing I can do.”
         Roger’s jade eyes narrowed at me and he said, “What about the sandwich shop on the walk home from school? I could steal one and then I wouldn’t have to go hungry.”
         “I do not approve of you stealing, even though, in this case, you were stolen from yourself.”
         “Please!” he wailed desperately. “Please, just be a lookout and call out my name if someone is looking when I put a sandwich in my backpack. If you don’t, I’ll have to starve until tomorrow morning!”
         I could not bring myself to look into Roger’s eyes to tell him ‘no.’ I pitied Roger. I pitied him to the extent that I reluctantly permitted his thievery and assisted him in obtaining a sandwich in the manner he suggested. Doing this, I felt ashamed of myself. However, I was well aware that the shame I had permitting him to steal did not compare to the shame he felt at not being able to just purchase food to eat as a child. I knew he was ashamed of himself, and I did not want to soil our relationship by making it appear that I was ambivalent toward his suffering.
         This was only the first time Roger engaged in theft. And yes, I assisted on more occasions after this.