Chapter 17: Is my mommy in heaven with you?

                                    

                                          
Washington DC, 2003

The prewar meeting between the American president and his national security team and communications advisors had just ended. The invasion of Iraq was about to begin. Hidden in the shadows, Michael watched as the humans left the room; he shook his head in disappointment, sighed, and teleported to the Tidal Basin. 
As expected, the cherry blossom trees had not yet bloomed. It was early in spring, and that year the winter had been colder than usual. He could make the trees burst with life and enjoy the orgy of cotton candy color that filled his spirit with delight every time he walked along this path. But it would be weird and, most of all, so unfitting to the current circumstances. Nevertheless, he followed the trail, silent and obscured, his heart heavy.
The naked tree branches only added to his sorrow; Michael's stare fell on the serene waters of the Potomac river. He had blocked out all streams of voices to give the meeting his full attention. With the future of humankind hanging on a thread yet again, he didn't want to open his consciousness. Didn't want to let all that desperation, all that trepidation, swallow him up in their stygian maelstrom. 
He allowed his spirit a few moments of peace before opening up to the chaotic world around him.
With his eyes closed, he listened. Listened to all the begging, pleading, sobbing. All the rage, the fear, the regret. The occasional thank you for things he had something to do with, and things he had no part in. And, of course, the blame and the hurt and the curses for not coming to help.
Humans were constantly creating a mess and expected someone else to take charge and clean it up for them.
The worst were the prayers from those who were going to war and from those who were about to have the Shock and Awe rain upon them. Michael contemplated shutting it all out again and returning to Eden. Watch the tragic show from above.
That was when he heard it.
"Mr. Angel Michael, is my mommy in heaven with you?"
Michael's eyes flew open.
"Cuz I heard Mrs. Lucas, who lives above us, say to auntie that mommy will go to hell for that bad thing she did. Please, Mr. Angel Michael, please tell me my mommy is with you."
A little girl, crying. An innocent human baby who had been told by some idiot that her mother was in hell.
Humans...
Michael huffed and concentrated on the child's voice. Blocked everything else out. For some reason, that sad, cute baby voice had pierced into his spirit.
"Auntie says that it's not true. That mommy is in heaven with you. But I wanna be sure. Can you tell me? Please?"
He followed the trace of the voice. There was no harm in helping a little human find peace of mind. After all, it was much easier manifesting in front of children. They didn't doubt the existence of angels, and forgot all about it when they grew older.
In the blink of an eye, he was in Trenton, New Jersey's capital, and inside a little girl's bedroom.
The child was sitting on the edge of a small twin-sized bed, her feet dangling. She was sniffing and clutching a teddy bear, her gaze fixed on the carpeted floor. Thick locks of reddish brown hair cascaded down her back. She didn't seem more than five or six years old, yet there was an air of forced maturity about her, as if she had seen more of the world than she should have.
Michael manifested. Her head snapped up, and two big green eyes stared at him wide.
For a few seconds, she remained silent. Then she uncrossed her hands, pushed herself off the bed and stood, the teddy bear still in her arms.