Daughter to Demons

by Jeffrey M. Mahr and Levanah

Chapter Six:
All You Need is Love

It is necessary to have wished for death
in order to know how good it is to live.
― Alexandre Dumas Père

No matter what the bus companies say about how clean, well-lit, and safe their terminals are; they lie. They’re always in crummy locations, which ensures that the neighbors are lowlifes, so it’s hard to say whether the bus station brings down the tone of the neighborhood or the neighborhood brings down the tone of the bus station. This one had garbage overflowing the lone wastebasket, assorted newspaper sections scattered about on the benches and floor and, to show it was a high-class terminal, only two bums sleeping it off in opposing corners. A third of the lights were out and several more flickered as if trying to join their striking comrades. Other people had been in and out of the terminal, but at the moment, aside from a very bored ticket clerk, the only other people present were a young couple quietly, but fiercely, arguing over something in another corner.

It was after midnight and Jackie was sitting on a bench in the corner by the now closed newsstand, looking as prim and proper as she could in order to minimize the pickup attempts. However, she couldn’t help the fact that she was stunningly beautiful, so she’d already been propositioned five times in the half hour she had been waiting for a bus, any bus. She hadn’t noticed the hunger when she was back with her friends, but now it was back. The hunger was back and it was so strong that she worried that she might not be able to control it soon. If a bus failed to arrive shortly, Jackie was afraid she might accept the offer of the next man to wander over from one of the nearby bars and proposition her. From what she managed to pick from their muddled brains, they were foolishly looking for a slightly cleaner bathroom.

She hated leaving her friends, but was convinced it was best for them. She knew if she remained they would do their best to protect her, no matter how much their loving efforts to help pained her or put them at risk. If the angels failed to get them, Jackie was afraid she would harm them herself. When he had touched her check as they sat on the couch in the dorm earlier that evening, she had told him it was his love that was hurting her, but it had been more than that. She had felt her power welling up inside her, preparing itself to jump out and engulf her friend, preparing to consume his very essence.

Another few minutes and a bus would be arriving, according to the posted schedule, assuming it was on time. Jackie offered a silent prayer to whatever God or Demon King was responsible for her kind, “Please be on time. Please.”

She was so intent on her prayers she missed the tall, well-dressed man who sat next to her until he spoke. “Hungry?”

“Huh?” Jackie snapped back into awareness as she warily examined her new companion, wondering if he was going to try to pick her up too. She guessed he was in his early sixties, based on his flowing white hair, but his face was smooth and he looked to be in excellent shape under his winter coat.

“I asked if you were hungry.” His eyes flickered downward and when Jackie looked, he had an apple held out in his hand.

Jackie stared blankly at the proffered fruit for several moments before responding, hoping he would take the hint and leave her alone. “No, thank you.”

“The name’s Sam. Samuel Ngelaf. Or Father Sam, as some call me. Ngelaf is Middle Eastern, in case you’re wondering.” The apple was gone, but the hand was still there, waiting for her to shake it. Jackie tensed, afraid she might slip if she touched him. Finally, with a deep sigh, she hesitantly offered her hand and his hand engulfed hers, but his grip was remarkably gentle and warm. It felt… comforting. He smelled nice too, a grandfatherly mixture of mild pipe tobacco and the faintest whiff of bay rum. She could imagine him in a rocker by a fire, telling some child a story, acting out all the parts with warmth and good humor.

“Jackie … Jackie Renfrew.”

“I’m on my way to Coxsackie,” Father Sam continued affably. “It’s the next bus. How about you?”

The voice was so warm and friendly, Jackie felt compelled to respond. “I’m on that bus too.”

“Oh, good. It will be nice to have some company. Sometimes, when I make this run, I’m the only person on the bus besides the driver.”

Jackie said nothing.

“I’m on my way back from visiting family here. Normally, I live at the Jesuit monastery a couple of miles outside of town.”

Jackie remained silent.

“You’re running away, aren’t you, my child.” It was a statement rather than a question, as if he could read her mind.

“What?” Jackie’s shock was evident in her voice and face, but also by the way she drew in on herself. “What do you mean?”

“Why, exactly what I said. You seem to be running away from something, or someone.” He examined her face carefully. “No, make that both something and someone.”

She glared at him and started to say something….

…But he held his hand up to stop her before she denied his allegations. “Please, my child, no lies, and don’t say anything you’ll regret later. We both know my observations are factual. Of more importance is why and what to do about it. Why don’t you tell me about it?”

“Thank you for the offer … Father, was it?” Jackie looked for a sign to determine what to call him but neither a correction nor an acknowledgment was forthcoming, merely benign interest. “But I don’t think I can do that.”

The silence continued, growing and becoming uncomfortable. “Excuse me. I need to go to the bathroom,” Jackie blurted out as she jumped out of her seat and ran off. At the bathroom door she debated continuing on past it and into the street where she could try hitching a ride, but for some reason she decided she didn’t want to do anything that would end up causing her statements to Father Sam, or whoever he was, to be a lie.

With brownish black ooze covering a good portion of the floor and part of one wall, the bathroom was even worse than the waiting area, almost unbelievably rank and foul. It had an odor that seemed to reflect the worst of bleach and several bodily secretions. The stall doors were missing, the mirror had more graffiti than reflective surface, and Jackie was afraid to get close enough to the toilets to examine them more thoroughly. Rushing out the bathroom door and slamming it shut behind her, Jackie leaned against a nearby wall of lockers and feverishly sucked in the slightly fresher air of the waiting room. She shuddered, but it was as much in response to the unwelcome images of what the bathrooms in the local bars must be like, if these were any example of the local notions of hygiene, and if even drunks came here expecting them to be cleaner.

“Attention please. Adirondack Excursions bus number fifty-one from Montreal has arrived and is disembarking now. All passengers please report to the departure gate. Bus number fifty-one will be departing for Glens Falls, Saratoga, Albany and points south in ten minutes.” With a shrug of resignation Jackie moved to stand by the small counter beside the gate while several bedraggled people disembarked from the bus and straggled past to quickly disappear into the darkness.

“Still running, my child? Is there nothing you’ll let me do to help you?” Jackie jumped and then blushed in embarrassment because she hadn’t realized that the Father was standing in line behind her. He’d said he was taking this bus, so why she was surprised she couldn’t say.

“Please, Father. I’m doing what I must.”

“And what does he think about your decision?”

“He?” Jackie was perplexed.

“Isn’t there a boy involved?” Father Ngelaf asked with a conspiratorial smile and a wink.

“There was.” Jackie smiled unhappily, but she was technically accurate, having been born male.

“Not yourself, my child. I meant your… friend.”

Jackie’s carefully-schooled poker face slipped into obvious panic as she frantically wondered, “How did he know? What else does he know? Who is this guy?” She frantically reviewed her interactions with the strange cleric, trying to figure out what she might have said or done to expose herself. Almost as an afterthought she checked for magical auras and was blinded by the white glow surrounding the Father. What was he? Fearful of being this close to anyone with this much magical power, Jackie backed away. She stumbled into the counter, then blindly ran towards the door, but only made it another two steps before slamming head first into someone. They both fell to the ground and Jackie scrambled to get up, panicking even more when she felt hands grasping her and holding her so she could not stand or flee. In a flash of insight, she remembered that she was a magical creature herself and tried to float through the hands of the person holding her and out of the building, but found she couldn’t do that either.

Jackie was ready to scream in fear when she heard Father Sam say, “Be at ease, my child,” and a wave of serenity washed over her. “You have only yourself to fear.”

“And that’s more than enough,” she retorted angrily. Then, looking around, Jackie realized who was holding her. “What are you doing here, Frank?” she asked as she slowly untangled herself from her ex-roommate.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that question?” Frank asked from his position beneath Jackie. “Oof!” Jackie’s hand accidentally pressed on his stomach as she tried again to stand up. Suddenly a large hand was under Jackie’s arm, gently but forcefully lifting her to her feet.

“Thanks.” She watched as the Father next offered Frank a hand, lifting him to his feet as easily as if he were a child’s balloon.

Frank grunted and nodded his thanks before rounding on Jackie. “Why are you running away? I thought we were your friends.”

“You are and that’s why I’m leaving, before you get hurt,” Jackie responded with a sigh, tears of frustration welling up. She realized she had been sighing a lot lately, crying a lot too. “We’ve talked about this….”

“And you were the only one who thought you should leave.” Frank was angry, and his voice held an edge of frustration and betrayal.

Jackie was panicking, and raised her voice to try and impress on him how important it was that she leave before someone got hurt. “And I’m the only one who knows how much you’re both at risk. I don’t want the same thing that happened to me to happen to you!”

“But you,” Frank said with some heat, “seem to be the only one who thinks you ought to run out on your friends because of it. Don’t we have a say in what we want to do?”

“Children?”

They both stopped talking and looked at Father Ngelaf questioningly.

“Excuse me, but this is a private conversation,” Frank said and took Jackie’s arm to lead her away.

“No, my son. No loud conversation occurring in the middle of a bus station is private and this one seems to meet both of those conditions,” he noted with a broad wave of his hand at their surroundings. “Why don’t we take a seat over here and discuss this. Maybe I can be of some help.”

When they didn’t move he came around and gently but firmly pushed them over to some benches near the building’s two vending machines. Not sure why, they both moved as he guided them to the seats without objecting.

“Now, my children,” he began, after they’d cleared the trash away enough to sit, “What seems to be the problem?”

Frank and Jackie looked questioningly at each other wondering what the other was thinking. Finally Jackie shrugged and looked down. Frank took a deep breath and began. “Father? Is that what we should call you?”

“Why don’t we avoid fancy titles? Call me Sam,” he offered and waited expectantly.

“Fine, Sam. I don’t think this is something you can help with.” Turning to Jackie he continued. “What do you think?”

“Yeah. I guess so. I don’t know. Oh, heck. Tell him. There’s something about him that makes me think maybe he can. It can’t hurt.”

Frank debated for more than a minute before offering his dubious response. “Okay … if you think so.” He glanced over that the Father. “But I’m pretty damn — er, darn — sure you’re not going to believe it.”

“Try me, my son. Start at the beginning and I promise not to interrupt until you’re done.”

True to his word, the cleric never opened his mouth once while Frank explained, initially alone, but shortly with asides from Jackie and finally with her doing most of the speaking while Frank listened. When they were finally done, they both sat cautiously watching and waiting — for laughter, condemnation, they knew not what.

“A fascinating tale.”

“But?” Jackie nodded her agreement with Frank’s anticipation of censure.

“No ‘buts’,” he said simply. “Just fascinating.”

“You believe it?”

“Most of it.”

“Ah ha!” They both said, glancing knowingly at each other. “What part don’t you believe?” Jackie added. “The existence of magic? Succubæ? That I used to be a man? What?”

“No, actually I believe all of that.” His benign smile was beginning to irk Jackie.

“You do? Right,” the sarcasm dripped from Frank’s words. “And I suppose you also believe in Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy?”

“Well, Santa Claus anyway. I’ve never met the Tooth Fairy.”

Frank stared back and forth at the two people before him, first at Jackie and then at the Father. Finally, he threw up his hands and glared at Jackie. “Where do you find these guys? He’s crazy as a bed bug.” Standing, he tugged at Jackie’s sleeve, trying to drag her back to the dorm. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“Wait.” Jackie took Frank’s hand and gently pulled him back down onto the bench beside her. “I believe him. He’s got an aura of magic around him.”

“You noticed.” Sam’s smile grew even larger. “Let me introduce myself, but first, let me promise you that you have nothing to fear from me.”

When he was not interrupted he continued. “My full name is Samuel Adolphus Ngelaf these days, but many thousands of years ago I was known as Semangelaf.”

Jackie gasped and tried to cower back into the bench. A moment later, a confused Frank also gasped as her hand squeezed his painfully. Her eyes began fearfully darting about, looking for a way to escape from the angel assigned to kill demons like her while Frank, finally catching on, moved immediately to place himself between Jackie and the cleric.

“I see you’re better read than most, but please,” he raised a hand and Jackie flinched, waiting for lightening or something to engulf her, “I told you that you have nothing to fear from me and I meant it. Yes, you understand part of my rôle in the world, but please allow me to allay your friend’s suspicion and fear on your behalf.”

Jackie nodded in resignation, knowing she was merely postponing the inevitable and wondering if it was normal for angels to show such sadistic streaks.

“I am, in fact, an angel. I’m one of three assigned by our Master to destroy the demon spawn of Lilith, Mother of all demons.”

“Run!” Frank lunged toward him, or at least he tried. About three feet from the angel, Frank found himself slowing and before he had gone another foot he was stationary, floating in the air between Jackie and the angel.

“I must say I’m disappointed in your lack of trust. After all, I am a representative of your Creator and we angels are known for our honesty…. Well, most of us. May I suggest you listen to me as patiently as I did for you while you were telling your story?” Frank found himself floating back to his seat where Jackie grabbed him protectively.

“You have part of the story correct. Lilith was Adam’s first wife. She did leave him, and although she did return after listening to the entreaties of my brethren and I to return, she left again shortly thereafter, but that was her perfect right under the doctrine of free will. I think that she and Adam could have worked out their differences, given a little more patience, but they were both angry and — if you’ll pardon the observation — the most obnoxious pair of self-righteous jerks you were ever likely to meet, although I have to confess that Adam was the worst offender. Poorly-socialised, the two of them, which I suppose wasn’t entirely their fault, since there wasn’t any society to be part of at the time. If it had been up to me, I would have given Adam a slap upside the head, as they say, and paddled her little behind, but that’s all water under the bridge. She decided to pursue a career as the Mother of all Demons, who started making themselves a nuisance immediately, so Sanvi, Sansavani, and I were assigned to destroy the most egregious of her abominations, but you’ll notice, I’m sure, that the order didn’t include her, and she’s been around a lot longer that you have, my dear, roughly a million years or so, since true humanity emerged from the great web of life.” He nodded at Jackie. “Lilith is merely a sinner, albeit an immortal one, and may yet repent. She’s been granted an eternity — or as near to it as makes no matter — to do so, and quite frankly, when I see how she’s behaved toward you, I think our long wait may be nearly over. Well, relatively-speaking. After waiting for a million years or more, a few more millennia are no trouble at all, the blink of an eye, more or less.”

“Attention please,” the speaker suddenly crackled into life. “Last call for bus number fifty-one for Glens Falls, Saratoga, Albany and points south. Bus number fifty-one now departing.”

“As I was saying,” the angel continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “We were assigned to destroy all of Lilith’s demon children, but that does not include you, Jackie, nor even Lilith, despite her nasty temper.” Reading their expressions was easy. Jackie was incredulous while Frank was cautiously hopeful.

“I see I must explain further. I’ve always liked Aristotle. He was an amazing teacher with a nice sense of humor too. We’ll use his method. Okay, Jackie?”

She jerked as if bitten, but then nodded.

“When we first met, were you feeling, shall we say, ‘hungry?’”

Another nod.

“But I offered you an apple. May we assume it was not food you craved?”

“No. It wasn’t food,” she said with irritation.

“When you were back at your dorm, were you hungry then?”

Jackie considered carefully, before answering. “No. No, I wasn’t hungry.”

“Are you hungry now?”

“No, but I don’t see where this is going.”

“Have you, ah … taken nourishment since you were at the dorm?”

“No! I refuse to hurt other people because of what I’ve become.” Jackie was indignant. “Now what’s the point of these questions? I have a bus to catch.”

“No, you don’t!” Frank blurted the words out. He grabbed her hand. “I love you. You can’t leave.”

Jackie flinched, expecting a wave of pain, not a little shocked by the meaning of the words she had just heard from one of her best friends. An instant latter she realized that she was not feeling any pain and was even more confused.

“Confused, my child? Don’t be. Everything is as it should be. Not to be flippant, but as Pangloss said to Candide, ‘Dans ce meilleur des mondes possibles, tout est au mieux,’ everything is for the best, in this best of all possible worlds.”

Jackie thought furiously. She should be starving, but she wasn’t. She should be in pain, but she wasn’t. She should be getting the hell out of here before she hurt someone, but she wasn’t. She should be punching that damned angel in the face to get rid of his smug knowing smile, but she didn’t. There had to be a reason, an explanation. Was something different? Frank was present and there was a link. Could it be that she’d been feeding off him without realizing it? That must be it. She was sucking her best friend dry. Now she really had to get away, but before she could rise there was a hand on her shoulder, the angel’s.

“No, my child, you don’t quite have the answer yet, because you’re not thinking straight. There’s a lot of your mother in you.” He smiled. His hand gently pushed her back into a seated position despite her efforts. She even tried to become insubstantial but couldn’t accomplish even the most basic magical action.

“Let her go!” That was Frank, his hand over the angel’s hand trying to pry it away. Suddenly Jackie felt a wave of magic and wondered what the angel had done since she was still alive. Then she saw Frank’s hand returning to his lap as he sat quietly beside her. Only his eyes revealed his panic.

“That’s twice you’ve attempted to interfere with a duly-authorized representative of your Creator in the performance of his duties.” His voice was very stern. “I will not permit a third such attempt. Now you will sit quietly and avoid being stupid until I permit otherwise.”

Semangelaf turned his gaze back to Jackie, but before he continued she spoke with tears welling up. “Please. If you’re going to destroy me, do it already. Just leave Frank alone.”

“So close and yet so far,” he sighed. “I’ve told you both several times; I’m not here to destroy you. I’m not here to harm you in any way. I am here to enlighten you and offer you a new career choice, so to speak.”

“But that’s your job isn’t it, to destroy demons?”

“Yes, my child, but you are not a demon, only a succubus, for now, and not even a very bad one.” He waited while the thought percolated through Jackie’s confused and frightened brain.

“But that’s impossible. What else could I be? I’ve been drained of life by a demonic succubus and then become a similar demon who floats through walls, sees magical auras, and sucks the sexual energy out of men. Isn’t that the definition of a succubus? It’s certainly what Lilith said I was.”

“You’ve become, like me, and like Lilith, a creature of magic who floats through walls, sees magical auras, and has a duality of nature that you don’t seem to understand. You must choose the path you follow, whether it be away from the light and into darkness or toward the light. Should you choose the darkness, you can indeed live as a bad succubus, a vile creature who preys upon the sexual energy of others, the ultimate prick-teaser, something like Lilith on her very worst days. If you go that route, you’ll be the quintessential “one night stand’ who leaves her partners drained but never gives anything in return, leaving all their hopes unfulfilled, and their lives blighted. But it is a choice. Even Lilith is not just the Mother of Demons, she’s also the Mother of Dryads, Naiads, Nereids, and all the other guardian spirits of places and things all around the world. She also an entertainer of considerable skill; you’ve seen her dance, so you know well how alluring she can be, and how exciting. You might think of her as a Muse as well as a Siren. If she sometimes lures men to their deaths, she also inspires others to astonishing acts of creation and courage. Yes, she sucked you dry of manhood, in her psychic vampire persona, but she also filled you with immortality and psychic power, and gave you a chance at a destiny greater than you could possibly have imagined when you were swotting your exams and papers and scheming to become a tenured university scholar and professor. Who’s to say whether what she took was more valuable than she gave you in return? How narrow was your life before, and how broad can be your scope now? Before, you were existentially solitary, alone in all the world, but now you are truly loved by a courageous young man who would challenge an archangel for your sake, fight dragons if he ran into one, and most probably — from what I see of his heart — love you through eternity. From the plain fact that you just offered to submit to death, if only his life could be saved, I daresay you love him as much as he loves you. Look around you, Jackie, and count your many blessings; even Lilith isn’t all bad; most of the time she acts as an agent of transformation, and leaves open the possibility of unlimited spiritual growth. All things move unimpeded toward a single Purpose, as my friend Vishnu succinctly put it.”

“And I have a choice here?” Her cynical comment turned to a slight smile as she thought it funny that she was being flippant with an emissary of an all-knowing, all-powerful being. The smile was fleeting, however, changing to a look of wistful hopefulness until the angel nodded. “You mean I do have a choice?”

The angel nodded again. “Of course you do. Haven’t you been listening? We’re all of us born into a state of grace. We have to be chased out of it.”

“I don’t have to leave to make sure I don’t hurt my friends. I don’t have to spend eternity, or at least until one of you finds and destroys me, sucking men dry?”

A third nod, but this time he rolled his eyes. “Shall we reënact the Monty Python Complaints Department skit with the parrot now? Which character do you want to play? The parrot?”

“But what? How? I don’t understand. Please,” she beseeched him, “explain.”

“All beings, even our maker, even me, have a dual nature, and have free will. We all have the power to choose between good or evil, not just once, but every time we act. Just as, in every moment, I have the choice to be a cruel avenger and go around whacking people’s heads off with a flaming sword, or to be instead a kindly guardian who urges all sentient beings to embrace their better nature, your own choice lies between existing as a selfish succubus or as a generous spirit who spreads love and joy wherever she goes, a cupid, as it were. They’re two sides of exactly the same coin, the human capacity to love, in both a physical and a truly spiritual sense. That’s why the succubi are mostly tolerated, unless they get out of hand and start murdering people, which some do, because they have a purpose in the grander scheme of things, and may eventually evolve beyond their youthful indiscretions. The two words are actually related, albeit distantly, succuba, sub-cubare, to lie beneath, the traditional position assumed by almost every woman eventually….” He paused, with a twinkle in his eye. “Have you reached that point, daughter?”

She blushed and shook her head. “I’ve been afraid of what might happen.”

“And well you might be,” he said. “Very commendable, dear, and wise. Until you learn to control your … appetite, you’ll have to be very circumspect, although of course there’s no chance of pregnancy, more’s the pity. Cupid, on the other hand, is from cupere, the other side of desire, to long for, to wish for, since just as the female desires the act of sexual congress, so does the male, in a wonderful asymmetry of desire and behavior that causes them to come together, all things being equal and ideal, in reverence and love. You’ll find, my dear child, that ‘lying beneath’ to succumb, has considerable charms for you now, although of course other positions are possible, and very nice for a change. Helps keep love fresh and interesting, in my own opinion. Our Hindu brethren have a lovely book, the Kama Sutra, which you might want to check out thoroughly, eventually, since eternity is a long time to do the same old thing every time. But as I said, it’s not safe yet, and I’d have to advise marriage as well. It’s not mandatory, of course, but it helps to remind one that the mystery of human love is a holy sacrament, to be kept always close to your heart in reverence and humility.”

“I thought the Church was against sex, though ….”

“Au contraire! The Church, broadly speaking, is very much in favor of sex, within proper bounds. Without sex, there would be no human beings, only spirits, and we spirits are necessarily barren in the physical sense. Then too, there are many ‘Churches,’ and not much to choose from between them. None have all the answers, or even ask all the right questions, but all are at least a good start toward discovering what it means to be a decent human being, a gracious individual, and to do good in the world instead of harm it.”

“But how did Lilith have children, then? How does she?”

“You forget that she’s not really a demon, no more than you are, but a human being in spiritual form, Adam’s first wife from before the Fall, and thus immortal, as are you, since you were created in her image. She assumed a spiritual form through the intervention of an angel, much as you did through her own intervention, because the angel who gave her the gift, or rather passed along the secret of it, merely built upon what she was already capable of. Many forget that Lilith bore Adam’s first child, Cain, before the Fall, and the Fall changed the entire manner of human reproduction. Before the Fall, childbirth was painless, almost instantaneous, and hassle-free, and would have been so forever, if Adam hadn’t botched things up with Eve almost as badly as he had with Lilith.”

“What I meant to say is, can I have children? I really love Frank,” she admitted it to herself at last, “but I’d hate to deprive him of his chance for children of his own.”

“That’s an interesting question, but I don’t think I know the answer yet. I suspect that it may have something to do with how you develop in the next few years. Don’t give up hope, though; because these things have a way of working themselves out, and your concern for him is a very good sign, because it shows that you haven’t succumbed to Lilith’s inclination toward selfishness. Remember, Sarah had a child in her old age, and was still so attractive in her sixties that Abraham loaned her out to the harem of Pharaoh of Egypt, and then many years later ran the same game on Abim’elech, King of Gerar, when she was well into her nineties, so she may well have been a spirit of some sort. I never met her, so I wouldn’t be able to say. Then again, perhaps Lilith might help as well, since she clearly has the knack of it.”

“Loaned her out?” Jackie was horrified.

The angel was not. He shrugged. “Those were different times back then. Abraham was worried that the rulers might kill him to get their hands on Sarah, and as anointed Kings, it was their perfect right to do so, so he passed her off as his sister, and stayed alive, but Sarah spent considerable time in both harems. What she did there, deponent sayeth not.” He rolled his eyes comically, and Jackie laughed.

“It sounds as if Lilith wasn’t such an oddity in those times, doesn’t it?”

“No, not at all, especially among the upper classes, which Sarah seems to have been, since her name means ‘Princess,’ and they took such claims seriously back then. Since Lilith was the wife and/or paramour of Archangels at the time, her position was quite similar to royalty, and they cut their Royals a lot of slack.”

“So how did she get such a bad reputation?”

Now he seemed surprised. “What are they teaching in that college of yours, anyway? Of course she had a bad reputation; she was an independent woman in an era in which women didn’t have any right to be independent. As you can see from the story of Abraham and Sarah, the scandal wasn’t that she slept around, but that she did it on her own initiative. No one would have said a word if it had been her husband arranging her little trysts, since Abraham managed to extort substantial reparations from both Kings in a sort of ancient ‘badger game, thus proving himself a clever fellow, admirable by ancient standards, if not exactly the stuff romantic heroes are made of these days.’ ”

“How horrible!” she said.

“Well, yes, but it’s also a lesson to us all. Perfection is never demanded of us, only that we try to be better. Abraham and Sarah wound up doing very well for themselves, and for others, despite their history as venal pimp and his profligate whore, con artists and sexual blackmailers both. Even some of the people they harmed, or tried to harm, got on famously, like Hagar and Ishmael, who wound up building a great nation as well, the Arabs and their kin, who eventually founded the most successful religion in the world, Islam.”

“I thought Christianity was the largest world religion,” she said.

“Well, it depends on how you slice it.” He pursed his lips slightly. “The total population of people who call themselves Christians is somewhat larger than those who call themselves Muslims, but the ‘Ummah,’ the world community of Believers in Islam, is much more coherent, where Christianity as a generic appellation includes many groups who don’t actually recognize each other as Christian at all, and indeed many who are absolutely certain that most other groups of ‘so-called Christians’ are going straight to Hell as ‘unbelievers,’ more like a professional football league than a single religion, with many teams, each with their own fans, and no particular ‘loyalty’ to any sort of abstract Football Holy See. Bill Moyers tells a wonderful joke about that, by the way, although I think that it was Emo Phillips who created it.”

He looked at her as if he expected her to be interested, which she wasn’t, being caught up in mere survival, so he continued without telling the joke.

He sighed. “Then too, many who call themselves Christians don’t actually participate in anything like a community of fellow Christians, other, perhaps, to respond positively when people wish them ‘Merry Christmas.’ You, for example, were among the minority of Christians who attended church at all, perhaps four in every ten nominal ‘Christians,’ yet many of your fellows would now refuse to acknowledge that you could possibly be a ‘real’ Christian, due entirely to the circumstances of your transition to the ætheric realms. Ironic, isn’t it?”

“Am I still a Christian?” she asked.

“Do you want to be?” He looked at her as if he was genuinely interested.

“Well, yes, I think so,” she said, trying not to be defensive.

“Then I’d say you are, although it makes no personal difference to me. Religions come and go over the years, and I’ve seen many — some better, some worse — during my time on Earth, and even before that elsewhere. I know for a fact that you try to be better than you perceive yourself to be, so I think you could fairly say that you’re a good Christian as well.”

“Why do I crave sexual contact with men, then, so much so that I feel like I’m starving for it?”

“Why not?” he asked. “Is there a handbook somewhere that defines ‘religious people’ as those who are immune from sexual cravings? Are they immune from the desire to sin at all? If so, how do we account for the very large numbers of ‘Christian’ ministers and priests — not to mention congregants — who live lives of wasteful luxury and sloth while there are millions in the world who are destitute and starving? And who’s to say that sexual desire is sinful in the first place? Human beings are designed to feel desire. Lack of it is a treatable disorder with a diagnostic code in the World Health Organization’s ICD and the US DSM.”

“But I’m a man!” she said in desperation.

“Really? You could’a fooled me, although that’s another treatable disorder, if you intend to pursue this line of thinking. Do butterflies go around moaning about being caterpillars at heart? Do adults complain that they’re really just babies trapped in grown-up bodies? What happened to you is neither unique nor unprecedented, albeit rare these days, in this particular manifestation, but you might as well complain about the cosmic injustice of being struck by lightning, or getting smacked by a falling piano while you were minding your own business walking down the sidewalk. Get over yourself; you’re still alive, if not technically breathing. Things change. Accidents happen, that’s all. You pick yourself up and move on.”

“But why do I want to elicit these sexual explosions of energy from men? Why do I want to eat them?”

“What, you think women have no desires? What do you think women really want? Do you suppose they fantasize about having a penis so they can have ‘real’ sex? News flash! Freud was an idiot. ‘Penis envy’ is a joke. Women want control of their lives; many want power, but the desire to have a dick isn’t all that common, and the vast majority of women think themselves very lucky indeed to have a womb, a vagina, and functional breasts instead. Used properly, they’re lots more fun, and much more useful. A penis, when contemplated seriously, is somewhat ludicrous, a definite disadvantage in many situations, and external testicles are so profoundly silly that many have seen in them proof positive of natural selection and evolution, since no one with any sense would have designed them in such a slapdash manner.”

“But….”

“But me no buts, daughter. You need to do a little research on normal sexual development in the female, either online or in a book, preferably both, since it’s nice to have an ‘Owner’s Manual’ handy for the body you’re living in these days. Normal women are more ‘narcissistic’ than men, because their brains are designed to connect more easily with other brains, so for a woman the interior feeling of another’s lustful gaze is much more intimate than it is for men, and they crave it on a level that men don’t usually experience. Likewise, part of sexual intimacy for a woman is an envelopment, at least in part, aside from the involvement of her breasts and larger sensorium, as when the vagina engulfs the penis, or a hand, and can be experienced as a type of hunger rather than an urge to poke, but normal women feel no more urge to have a penis than you ever imagined having a proboscis, like a mosquito, so you could eat ‘properly,’ by plunging your ‘mouth’ inside some living body and sucking out the blood. What you feel is what many women feel, perhaps writ somewhat larger, because you’re free of corporeal limitations, being a creature of pure spirit, and may thus be more focused and less diffuse, because your experiences aren’t mediated through mere flesh and bone, but you’re not unique by any means.”

Jackie thought hard about that for a while, and even looked up to see if the angel was losing patience, which he didn't seem to be doing at all. At last, she said, “Thank you,” she said, “for putting that into words. It makes sense to me now, when you put it that way, but why am I so driven?”

“Because you’re young, of course, and know no limits. You’re still exploring, as young people do, testing your powers as well as your vulnerabilities, but you have very few vulnerabilities, and are much stronger than the ordinary new succubus — I suspect because you participated in your own conversion, and thus drew in a considerable portion of the sexual power on a psychic level that you were losing on a physical level — and so, like men who are very big and strong, have the ability, and thus the temptation, to be a ‘bully.’ The dark side of female sexuality is the desire to control and devour the male, as some insects do, and as Lilith partly did to you, just as the dark side of male sexuality is to dominate, capere, to take, to capture, or to rape, the act of the satyr or incubus. Abraham felt that he had the right to ‘dispose’ of his wife’s sexual favors because — in the context of the times — he owned her, and she was barren — that is to say, ‘worthless,’ so he felt free to rape her by proxy when it served his own ends. Lilith, because she has incredible power, has the temptation to devour men entirely, as she did to you, but even then she gave you back more than she took, in my opinion, but without asking you if it seemed like a fair exchange, which is a form of rape, just as Abraham used, or allowed, powerful men to rape his wife in order to obtain money and more power. The cupid represents the other side of both dark impulses, which is why they’re usually depicted as innocent children, whatever they look like in life. Cupids are in it for the long haul, and encourage giving rather than taking, as you yourself have done with your friends Julie and George, with those two teenagers you encountered that night, and the doctor and his nurse, who are even now deeply in love, where first was — as so often in matters of the heart — hostility.”

“Cupid? But Cupid is supposed to be the Greek god of love, a small winged boy with a bow and arrow. How could I be Cupid? For that matter, if I’m Cupid why did I feel pain when George and Julie were together? and how do you know about them anyway?”

“Whoa. Slow down,” the angel laughed and his all-knowing smile seemed to glow. First, you have the potential to be a cupid, not the Cupid. It’s a convenient label to describe the attitude and function, not a specific physical form … although you may appear to others in that manner if you wish and it becomes your nature. I always thought the Romans were feeling a bit …shall we say … ‘light on their feet’ when they selected that particular form with which to immortalize Cupids, or maybe they just thought it would be unseemly to have half-naked girls flitting about with little bows and arrows — they tended toward prudishness in public morality, you know. Maybe it had something to do with the techniques their legionnaires used to relieve their ‘itches’ when on the march.” He shook his head, evidently bemused, and slightly off track.

“In any case, to ‘cut to the chase,’ as it were, you are what you think you are. You appear to others as you wish to be, or — if you allow it — you can appear as they wish it. Both options have their appropriate uses.” The angel went through a dozen body transformations, from young to old, male to female, tall to short, black to white, in a matter of moments. “It’s that duality I spoke of. You always have a choice. You might even choose to become a tutelary spirit, but it can be a lonely life, guarding sacred groves and the like in lonely splendor, and I wouldn’t recommend it for you. You’re what we call a ‘people person.’ You like people, you want to help them, as a rule, but certainly to be around them, even when you’re not being helpful. Your loneliness and heartache were the result of trauma, not inclination. If you think and act as an evil succubus you will eventually delight in wanton lust — the loveless pornography one buys furtively in shabby shops — and loathe the joy and caring intimacy of those in love. However, if you think and act as a virtuous cupid, you will find delight in true love of all sorts, and feel pain from any base or degrading sexual act, just as every kindly human being does. But both choices have their dark side and their light. A so-called cupid can cause incredible mischief and heart-ache through inspiring inappropriate love that does harm to those around the lovers, just as a succubus can transform the stultifying life of a stagnant male into vibrant creativity, allowing them to focus their ‘lust’ for life into art, into music, with the same passion many men reserve for their lover. Think back to when you were Jack, when you saw the ending of An Affair to Remember, the one with Deborah Kerr and Cary Grant, were you disgusted by the ‘mawkish sentimentality’ of it, or were you charmed by the poignant romanticism of his love for her, a love that transcended her crippled body and saw the beauty of her soul?”

Jackie blushed, because she’d cried all through the last scene, from when the Cary Grant character gave Terry, the Deborah Kerr character, his mother’s shawl, to when she’d said “if you can paint, then I can walk. Anything can happen, don’t you think?” She’d been embarrassed about it, because ‘men don’t cry,’ but she had, and she was weeping again, just remembering that movie, the emotional catharsis of it as vivid as if she’d been Terry, longing for love but afraid of pity, suddenly confronted with the man she’d loved desperately, but had wanted to spare the burden of caring for a cripple.

The angel smiled… angelically. “You see, Jackie? Consider that what happened to you may not have been an accident, or even entirely Lilith’s ‘fault,’ and that there may be a higher purpose in even the tiniest incidents in a long life. It’s not truly a matter of nourishment — as Lilith usually describes it — that you crave, but the fulfilment of your inner nature. In fact, you no longer need any nourishment at all, either corporeal or spiritual, although it may take a while to convince your ætheric body of that.”

He smiled at her again, and Jackie felt …blessed, and truly looked at him for the first time, looked into his heart, and was astonished by the mingled joy and pain she found there. “You have a tough job, don’t you, Sam?” she said.

He grinned. “It has its good days, and its …not-so-good days, but the good days make up for the bad ones. This is turning out to be a good one, I hope. Beware of how you choose, though. Once you take too many steps down either path it will become more and more difficult to retrace your steps and take the other. Many — some days it seems like most — take the easy route, so familiar to their corporeal bodies, and succumb to greed and cruelty when freed of physical limits. I hope you’ll take the road less traveled. Watch that movie again, Jackie, and explore the world of real love as most women do, in your imagination. Read women’s literature, look at women’s movies, and talk to other women. You have a lifetime, many lifetimes, of ‘catching up’ to do.”

“But what about the pain I experienced? Why did love hurt me while lust made me feel full.”

“For the same reason a child likes roller coasters, Jackie, but would feel oppressed if asked to compose a romantic sonnet. The physical rush of sex hormones, œstrogen, testosterone, and adrenaline, can be very pleasurable, and it’s easy to experience and understand, but sooner or later most people graduate from adrenaline to dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin, the ‘love drugs’ that signal the onset of pair-bonding and all forms of mature love, both between couples, and the deep love that exists between a mother and her child. Once you’ve experienced real love, the uncertainty of adrenaline, ‘just sex’ and ‘one-night stands’ begins to cloy, and will eventually disgust you, although one would hope that you always retain the ability to experience the deep desire that can make an active sexual life transformative, allowing you to live outside yourself for a few moments, and to experience the bliss of transcendence. Were that child to start with the ‘hard stuff,’ it would overwhelm him, or her, just as it did you, because you’re very young for an immortal spirit. I’m sure you’ve seen very young children make sour faces, or stick out their tongues, when the ‘mushy stuff’ starts, because it makes them feel uncomfortable, and they don’t like it. Lust is a weak precursor to love, a ‘quick fix,’ as it were, and is thus easier for someone just starting out in life to accept and understand, but the root meaning of ‘lust’ is not ‘sin,’ but ‘delight.’ There’s nothing wrong with delight, whether you receive or give it. The only sin is treating people, or anything, badly, of using them with reckless disregard for their ultimate welfare. Your sensorium has changed, and nerve endings that were once buried within flesh are now exposed, so you have to pay close attention to what your new ætherial body is really telling you.”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything, thinking about everything he’d said.

“Look around you, Jackie. Look at Frank, who loves you desperately. Don’t be so sure that love hurts, when you haven’t examined exactly where love lies. We’re sitting here in a bus station, the boundary between everything you know and the beginning of a new land, where you’ll be alone, without a friend in the world, a stream you can either cross, or turn back to cross the threshold behind you that leads back to a radically-changed life in more familiar surroundings, the fond regard of those who love you, and what may well be the grand passion of your life. Choose wisely, because second chances are rare.”

Jackie thought about that for quite a while. “And here I am, wrestling with an angel….” she said, giving him a crooked grin.

The angel smiled. “There are many forms of struggle, Jackie. Good luck, my dear. I’d grant you the boon of freedom to make your own choices, except that you had it all along, but you do have my blessing, and my sincere best wishes for your future happiness, which is very much the same thing.” Suddenly the angel was gone.

Jackie turned to the man beside her and realised that, if she wanted to leave, the way lay clear before her. The bus was still boarding, and Frank was still asleep. Her own decision made, she settled in to wait.

Frank moved first. Shaking himself, as if coming out of a deep sleep, he turned to Jackie. “Let’s get out of here, sweetheart. I just don’t understand why you wanted to come here in the first place.” He stood and offered her his hand. Jackie was confused until she peeked into his mind and realized that he had no memory of Father Sam.

“Uh, okay. I guess we can go, because I’ve forgotten too.” They headed out of the depot hand in hand, but Frank carried her suitcase, and she let him do it.

“Wait here and I’ll get the car.” Frank left and Jackie glanced about. Just inside the depot were two people, the couple she had noted earlier, still arguing over something. Jackie concentrated for a moment and watched them silently stare at each other for a moment and then walk off hand in hand, smiling into each others’ eyes. Jackie hoped they would be happy together.

When Frank returned, she slipped into the car and then slid over to sit next to him. Taking his nearer hand from the wheel, she encouraged him to place it over her shoulder while she leaned her head against his chest. It felt good. Life was good. Love was good. She couldn’t wait to see what tomorrow brought them.

 

Copyright © 1998, 2002, 2005, 2007, 2009 by Jeffrey M. Mahr

Copyright © 2011 by Levanah