The Celestial Gate by Avital Dicker (red white royal blue txt) 📗

“You look ridiculous!” she giggled. Mor chased her, but Rae evaded him with ease. “And, don’t worry, the effect wears off after a few days.”

Mor finally pinned her down. “How many days?” he demanded, his hand on her neck.

“I don’t know. It depends on how much you ate.” Her pride injured, she rubbed her neck.

“If you were going to have anything at all, maybe you should have eaten of the tree of knowledge of good and evil,” said Anise, laughing.

By now it was getting dark. For a change, Yam and Mor agreed on something: it was too dangerous to enter the jungle and it was best to spend the night here, on the beach. The group picked a relatively sheltered spot near the trees, between the shore and the forest. Mor built a small bonfire, and Yam took the mushrooms out of his pack.

“No! Don’t touch them!” Enochio shouted in fright.

“But we’re hungry,” said Yam.

Enochio sighed and grumbled as usual. Nonetheless, he clapped his hands and, before everyone’s astonished eyes, a plate appeared in the air and slowly settled onto Yam’s knees. He stared gratefully at the plate, heaped with chicken cutlets and a huge pile of mashed potatoes.

“I may not be very good at flying but I’m still an angel,” Enochio smiled.

More plates came their way: pasta and tomato sauce for Anise and a large cheeseburger with fries for Mor.

“What about me?” asked Rae, a little put out.

Enochio looked at her with reprimanding eyes. “You need to start eating healthier food.” Even so, a plate of chocolate cake landed on Rae’s knees just a moment later. The bogo wagged both his tails with excitement, his head buried deep in a pot full of meatballs.

“See? I can still control a thing or two,” said the angel with satisfaction, loudly slurping his bowl of soup.

Yam proceeded to talk about the enormous apes. When he got to Mor saving him, Anise looked at Mor with gleaming eyes. Mor tried to look impassive but was enjoying every moment of her admiration. Then, Enochio, his mood clearly improved by the food, started to talk about the mushrooms.

“One bite of the purple mushroom inflates you so much that you blow up and bits of you scatter every which way. The red one with the stripes shrinks you. Every mushroom has its own effect, and even I don’t know all of them,” he explained.

“Tell me,” asked Yam of the angel, “what’s with the Royal Guards?”

Enochio grew serious. “It’s complicated,” he sighed. “The Orphils are those who didn’t become angels. They’re sort of stuck in the middle, so God put them in charge of order and making sure the system operates as it should.”

“Is there really a course for angels?” Anise laughed.

Enochio ignored her teasing. “Something like that. There’s a whole selection process and many drop out on the way. Being an angel is no simple matter.”

Yam managed not to laugh out loud. “So how did you pass?” he challenged the chubby Enochio.

“It’s not funny,” he answered, his face looking sad. “I’m no longer sure I can protect you. Look, the law prohibits the Orphils from using their wings and they always have to obey angels. But something seems to have gone wrong. Something’s changed because they came close to attacking me on the way here. And, from the little I saw, they’ve stopped obeying the rules altogether. Oh, and one of the traits that kept the Orphils from the next stage of the course is cruelty. They must learn how to control it as part of their process of self-improvement.”

This time, nobody laughed. Enochio, though, clapped his hands once again, providing everyone with a dessert of warm chocolate soufflé with ice cream and strawberries with cream.

“The Orphils are one reason that, first thing tomorrow morning, I’m taking you back home,” said the angel, putting another heaping spoon of cream into his mouth.

“Wait a minute,” Anise protested, “we’re not going anywhere. In case you didn’t notice, we came here to see God. And we haven’t done that yet. The world down there is in truly awful shape.”

“Listen, my dear miss, none of that is my fault. I’m only a cog in the wheel,” said Enochio, finishing off another helping of soufflé. “In any case, believe me, not everything is peachy keen here either,” he grumbled. “Do you know how long I’ve been asking for a transfer?!”

Anise was having none of it. “I don’t care. I’m not going back down before I talk with God.”

“Enochio,” Mor tried, “do you remember the first time someone went through the gate?”

Enochio thought long and hard. “That was all so long ago. Some ancient tribe. I think they were called Inca or Maya. Something like that,” he finally answered, his mouth full of chocolate.

“I knew the legend is real! They really did find the gate,” Yam jumped up. Enochio nodded and grabbed another platter of whipped cream out of the air. “Listen, Enochio, I’m absolutely convinced there’s a reason we’re here,” Yam insisted. “The gate didn’t come to us for no good reason.”

But Enochio wasn’t listening. He grabbed at his ample belly and moaned, “I don’t feel so good,” then hurried off to the side to vomit.

“He never knows when to stop with the whipped cream,” Rae laughed.

“I don’t intend to go back down until I have some answers,” Anise muttered darkly.

“Me neither,” said Mor, looking at a pale Enochio who had returned to the group only to fling himself down and fall asleep.

“It’s just as scary down there. As long as we’re here, we might as well try to do something about it,” Yam whispered. Anise looked at him, appreciation glittering in her eyes.

Chapter 28

Sual pointed at the gate filled with rocks. “There it is,” she whispered.

The street was quiet, except for an occasional shot. Theo, amazed, held his breath. Yoav’s painting was an exact copy of the sad, hopeless gate in front of them.

“He really nailed the despair and neglect,” said Theo to Amalia. “He’s talented, your husband.”

She