Chelsea turned off Hancock and Emily’s night-light and slipped out of their bedroom. She stayed in the room with the kids until they were sleeping peacefully, cherishing one more night of serenity before she turned life as they knew it on its head. Hancock knew change was coming. But Emily? Would she rest as easy tomorrow?
Chelsea had begun to have nightmares soon after she learned of her own parents’ divorce. Ominous shadows lurked in her dreams well into adulthood. As a child, she could almost sense them waiting for her to fall asleep. The thought of her own daughter being plagued with such terrors made her cringe. But it was soon replaced by a thought that troubled her even more. Would her children blame her the way she had blamed her father? How could they not? When it came down to it, the choice to split up the family was hers. These questions raced through her mind until they were lapped by one that had been running circles in her head all day.
How will I make it on my own?
Chelsea was finally ready to find out.
The router came to life with a zap that made her take a step back. In the pitch-black café, the glowing orb looked more spectacular than ever, its blue lights flashing like lightning bolts. They seemed to move in time with the crashes of thunder echoing through the night outside.
The movement of the trees bending and cracking behind the bay window in the sunroom was reflected on her laptop screen. She watched the cursor blink at the end of her eight simple words. With a burst of resolve, Chelsea struck the key. She watched as her question instantly appeared on the God Blog. If the past were any indicator, she would soon be hearing from the Almighty Answerer in the Sky.
Craaack! Thunder reverberated through the sunroom. The lamps flickered and faded, leaving Chelsea with the blue light of her laptop.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Chelsea exclaimed, staring at her screen.
She had lost her wireless connection to the God Blog. She closed the laptop, stood, and felt her way toward the door. She was nearly out of the room when she caught her first whiff of smoke.
Manny was out of breath. He had run ten full blocks, but there were still several more to go. How he missed his wings! For a brief moment he considered stopping to rest, until he recalled the archangel’s words. Heaven never gives up.
Manny rounded the corner onto King William Street, his heart uttering silent prayers for Chelsea, Hancock, and Emily. When he spotted the Higher Grounds Café, he grasped the urgency of his task. Chelsea’s home was engulfed in flames. Smoke billowed out of the shattered front door.
“Chelsea!” Manny called, sprinting toward the café. As he stepped onto the front porch, Hancock leaped through the broken glass opening, knocking Manny over.
“Hancock! Are you okay? Where’s Emily and your mom?”
But Hancock was overtaken by a spasm of violent coughing. Seconds later, Manny received his answer as Sawyer emerged from the café, holding Emily in his arms.
“Chelsea . . .” Sawyer gasped for air, struggling to speak. “Can’t find her upstairs . . .”
Manny needed no more answer than that. Seconds later he was racing through the smoky darkness in search of the person he was sworn to protect.
“Chelsea!” Manny called, but the only sound he heard was the blazing fire, angrily devouring the century-old house. He stepped toward the kitchen, his arms stretched out before him. Without his angel eyes he could see next to nothing. But Manny pressed on. Like Luke Skywalker boldly navigating the Death Star with nothing but the Force, Manny launched himself forward, trusting in something bigger than himself.
As he neared the café counter, an explosion of flame burst through the wall near the storage pantry. Manny ducked to avoid a downpour of fiery debris. From what he could see, the fire was emanating from the very place where Chelsea kept the precious router. He doubted this was a coincidence. Manny could only imagine what his unseen angelic compatriots were battling in this very space.
“Chelsea!” Manny called through the swinging door of the kitchen. No answer. And no sight of her either. Time was running out, and Manny couldn’t afford to lose his wits. He closed his eyes to the world around him and listened. Though his angelic senses had been dulled by the clamor of the tangible world, Manny prayed he could still hear, still see something more.
God protect my daughters . . .
Give Chelsea eyes to see how much you love her . . .
The chorus of prayers, still resounding from decades past, every bit as potent as when they first were offered to heaven. And in this moment, they were louder to Manny than the destruction around him.
Bring healing to my family . . .
Lord, keep Chelsea safe . . .
Manny burst into the sunroom and found her lying on the floor. “Chelsea!” he called, but she was unconscious. As Manny knelt by her side, he could hear the ceiling above him giving way. He took strength from the echoes of prayers encircling them. Scooping Chelsea into his arms, he raced out of the sunroom, all the while dodging pieces of the crumbling ceiling.
Manny bolted through the café doors and into a line of firemen and paramedics. Even still, he refused to let her go. He kept running until he knew she was safe. Only then did his legs collapse beneath him. When the paramedics finally caught up to Manny, they were in awe that he had made it out alive, and with Chelsea no less. But then again, this wasn’t Manny’s first rescue mission.