Tom looked out the window. The bright sun had faded behind the clouds as they began to darken and fade. He sank into his old red arm chair as he let out a sigh. He slowly brought a cigarette to his mouth, but left it there unlit. He then watched as rain drops began to form on the window. Indecisively, he fiddled with the cigarette before finally flicking it into the fire.
He stood up and placed his hand upon the mantle above the fire. He ran his hand across the smooth marble warmed to the touch by the flames. Slowly he turned to the wood work running his hand over every unique design. Sighing he looked into the dancing flames. The soft light was the only thing illuminating the rest of the room.
The room itself was small; more like a study then a sitting room. The fire place was located in the further most wall from the door. It was all the tiny room needed for warmth. His father’s chair sat in between the fire place and the lone window letting in a weak gray light. The handmade oak table was placed in the middle with a few wooden chairs around it. It was a quiet room to quiet the mind.
Atop the mantle stood alone picture frame that seem out of place in the dark and gloomy room. Tom picked it up and cradled it in the palms of his hands. The picture portrayed a young woman sitting on a stone bench. Her hair was a bright shade of blond. Her eyes were a soft grey against her baby-blue blouse. There was also a star-like pendant hanging around her neck.
Tom set the frame down gently as if not to hurt it in any way. In truth, the woman in the picture was the exact opposite of Tom. He had rugged, dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Clad in black, he had a distant look about him. He scratched a scruffy beard, that was poorly shaved, and created a small scrapping sound against the crackle of the fire.
Pulling out his pocket watch Tom looked at the time. It read 4:09 pm. Slipping it back he opened the door into the other room. He made his way towards the main hall passing the kitchen as he walked He grabbed his grey jacket and black hat from the closet. Just as he was about to open the front door there came a knock.
Tom hesitated a moment before opening the door only to see his old friend John standing in front of him. John was average height, maybe even a little short, but what made him stick out was his stocky appearance. He had broad shoulders and a filled out body. He was dressed in a black over coat and was holding a wet umbrella at his side, his black hair damp and dripping. “Ready to go?”
Nodding, Tom shut the door behind him. Just before he stepped out into the rain, he looked back at his house and whispered a few silent parting words. John looked up, then back at Tom, “What’s wrong?”
Tom took a moment to responded, “Nothing lets go.” The two set out down the road.
They eventually stood in front of an old looking church. There was a sign that read, “Milestone Catholic Church, Established 1961.” Bricks were missing from its foundation, and it appeared to have a depressing look about it. John stood there as if wondering whether or not to enter, but oblivious to everything Tom walked from under the umbrella and made his way to the front door. John glanced back before following.
As they entered, they both dipped their fingers into the holy water and crossed themselves. Tom looked up at the large wooden crucifix that hung from the ceiling. The whole chapel was old. There was a musty odor in the air that was carried by the draft. John put his sleeve over his nose, but Tom didn’t seem to notice and simply stepped forward.
“You’d think that after thirty years they’d clean this place up don’t you think?” John asked Tom.
Ignoring him Tom slowly made his way down the aisle, a blank expression on his face. As he walked he ran his fingers along the pews, tracing every line of every detail of the carvings. At last he made his way down to the alter and knelt down. He then bowed his head in prayer. God, I come before you as a servant with a prayer; protect her, for I could not. Give what I could not and watch over her, Amen.
“Why not look after her yourself?”
Tom turned to see a dark figure standing behind him. The figure wore a black cloak that cancelled his face. Startled he stood, but did not speak. There was something about the man that frightened him. He didn’t know what, but something wasn’t right. John came to stand ten feet away from the figure, but froze just as Tom did.
“Do I frighten you?”
Tom was able to speak after swallowing a few times, “Who are you?”
“Your Guardian Angel.” After that the man handed Tom a small box.
When he looked down at it and then back up the man was gone. He walked back to where John was standing and asked with a puzzled face, “Did you see that man?”
“What man?” John asked with a worried expression.
Tom replied saying it was nothing while he discreetly slipping the box into his coat pocket; though he was sure John had seen him too. He then walked by John with his head down, “Lets go get something to eat. I could go for a bite.” John smiled at this reply and they made their way down the street towards the diner.
As they entered the dinner they noticed not many people were there. A patron here or there, but over all empty, but there was one man that caught Tom’s eye. No reason was behind the sudden attraction, just an ire feeling he had. The pair took a seat in a booth by the window and waited for the waitress to come and take their order. All the while Tom was looking out the window, but at the same time holding onto the box in his pocket.
The waitress soon came for their drink orders. John asked for coffee, Tom asked for tea. When their drinks arrived they asked for a moment before ordering.
“Hey Tom, what’s on your mind?” He ignored the question and John had to ask again to get his attention.
Without turning from the window Tom replied, “Nothing really, just thinking.”
John sighed, “I know how you feel Tom. I lost my sister, you lost your lover. I hate to talk like this, but it’s been almost a year. You’re only twenty-three; you should go out and meet new people.”
Tom looked at him with an emotionless stare, “How can I? I loved Elena. How can I love someone else? Besides, your one to talk. Your twenty-seven, shouldn’t you be married by now?” His last remark was said with a sarcastic tone.
They sat in silence as their food was brought out and ate without eye contact. After their speechless meal, Tom pulled out his wallet to pay, but someone at the counter smiled and offered to pay the bill. It was the same man that had given him the chills before. Tom refused, but the man was persistent. “It’s clear who ever you loved, you loved very much. Such devotion requires an act of kindness, don’t you agree?”
Tom studied the man closely. He had long blond hair, almost to his shoulders. His eyes were a light shade of green and he wore a white shirt with blue jeans. His appearance was a little strange, but what puzzled Tom was that he saw no jacket nor umbrella and yet the person was totally dry. Shrugging he figured he beat the rain and thanked the stranger.
Once outside John was the first to talk, “Do you really think we should have excepted that guys help? He gave me a chilled feeling.”
“I thought it was a nice gesture. You think too warily of people John.” Tom knew he was right. He had had the same feeling, then, and at the church. He took one last look at the dinner, then left.
They arrived back at Tom’s apartment quicker then when they had left due to the rain. Tom beckoned John to go into the study while he fetched some tea. He set the kettle atop the stove. As he waited for the water to boil he pulled the box out of his pocket.
He turned the rectangular box over and over again examining it. There was a the symbol of a rose on the top, a thorn on the back. He was about to open it, but the kettle started to whistle and he threw the box back inside his pocket.
As he walked into the study carrying the tray, he saw John by the fire starring at the picture on the mantle. “Why Tom, where did we go wrong?”
Tom set the tray down and took a seat in one of the wooden chairs. He pulled the box back out and looked it over on last time before John noticed. “What is that?”
Tom looked up, then back at the box, “Not sure really. Some guy gave it to me at the church.”
“What, that again. I thought you were acting weird. Tom, there was no one there.”
“Then how did I come upon this?” He held up the box so John could see it plain as day.
“Okay, so maybe there was someone. What’s in it anyway?” John asked taking his tea.
“No idea.”
“Then open it you idiot.”
Tom starred at it for a long moment before he opened the latch. Slowly he opened it only to see a small book; almost like a journal. John laughed, but Tom seemed fixated on it. He took it in his hand and turned it around. It had the same rose and thorn markings as the box did. He flipped through the pages, but they were empty. On the back, in the lower corner, it read Book of Sorrows.
John took it, flipped through the pages, and threw it into the fire. Tom rose to his feet about to protest, but thought twice and sat back down watching it burn.
“Leave it Tom, just some idiot trying to play a joke on you. Most likely trying to mess with your head.” He took another sip of his tea and looked out the window, “It stopped raining, at least for now. I should be going before it gets dark.” He set his cup down, patted Tom on the shoulder and left him there to his thoughts, but before he left said one last thing, “Learn to let go. I did.”
Tom was left there starring at the fire and the burnt remains of the book. He sat there letting the flames dance before his eyes. Move on? He looked out the window, Maybe in time, for now… Tom pressed his hand against his chest, but gasped when he felt nothing. After a moment he sighed and stood up. He looked at his watch. It read 5:11 pm. He pondered a moment, but then shook his head and left the house.
After walking for about ten minutes Tom arrived in front of a large white building labeled Shilling’s Printing Publishing Co. Just as he was about to open the door a familiar chill ran up his spine. He turned, but there was no one there. With his heart racing he finally opened the door; nearly dropping the keys as he turned them. Sweat poured from his brow and his breath was heavy.
As Tom walked his shoes made a loud sound against the polished floor. It was the only sound as he neared the front desk. He took a quick look around happy none of the cleaners were around. “Always out early on Sunday,” he said to himself.
Smiling slightly he made his way towards the stairs. Tom was peaceful at work. Owning his own company and taking care of its responsibilities seemed to help take his mind off of things. Here he was able to calm down and relax.
Soon he reached the fourth floor. He took a left and made his way down a small corridor. At the end of the hallway he stood before a door. The window on it read Tom Shilling, CEO. He read the words over and over again. When he finally decided to open the down he muttered under his breath, why?
Once inside he shut the door silently behind himself. He strode over to his desk. It was littered with a few papers, but clean over all . He turned a few of them over until he found an old silver star-like pendant. He picked it up gently and released the lock that opened it. Inside was a picture of a woman, the same woman portrayed on his mantle. Next to it was a picture of himself.
“You two were truly a beautiful couple.”
Tom turned startled only to see the same man he had met at the diner, only he was dressed in the same cloak as the man at the church. “Who are you, and how did you get in here?”
The man chuckled, “I told you already, your Guardian Angel.”
Tom took a step back yelling, “Don’t mess with me you freak! Get out of here or I’ll call the police!” The man just stood there smirking, but Tom seemed to settle down slightly as questions came to mind. “How were you able to hide from John, I was sure he had seen you?”
“Oh, he did at first, but I only show myself to those I choose, and I chose you not him.”
“You really are mantle,” said Tom as he swung around his desk reaching for the phone.
The man only sighed, “If you looked at the book more closely you might be a little more calm about this situation.”
“That stupid prank, I burned it.”
As Tom started to dial 911, the man raised his hand holding up a journal identical to the one John had thrown into the fire. “Put the phone down Tom. I’m the answer to all your prayers. My name’s Mathias, and I told you before, I’m your Guardian Angel.”
