The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 2930 by Angharad Copyright© 2016 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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I made myself a cuppa ignoring the glances of David and Amanda and the blushes and giggles when I did look at them. What they do in their own time is their business but I resent the fact they might be bonking on my time. I’d let it pass this time but next time would say something.

I read up on Gevurah or Geburah or whatever it’s called, it’s definitely Kabbalah and is something to do with the administration of judgement and justice. Not quite sure what context that had for dealing with Debbie other than as a warning, which she understood—more than I did.

The angel has appeared before, sometimes at my bidding to make a point, sometimes because it was in context with what I was doing—usually healing; though they’re not always associated with sweetness and light—tell that to Pharaoh’s first born a la plagues. Okay, it’s mythology but we angels will respond appropriately to threats or attacks—I think, or is that me, the human, speaking? I glanced at the time and checked a number in my address book.

“Cathy, what a pleasant surprise.”

“Hello, Marguerite, I need some information or advice on matters spiritual.”

“You’re asking me?”

“Yeah, wanted the biochemical version.” She laughed at my remembering her previous occupation.

“So the mountain has come to Mohammed?”

“Explain, please unless it’s to do with my putting on a few pounds or you converting to Islam.”

She laughed again, “Cathy, you have far more contact with the divine than I do, it’s my job but it’s your very being.”

I cleared my throat as I was uncomfortable with that concept. She laughed again, “You don’t like to admit that your ability to heal and to help others is a gift from God, do you?”

“In a word no, it isn’t congruent with my map of the universe.”

“Maps can be redrawn, Cathy.”

“Yeah, I get invites from Ordnance Survey to buy the latest ones, quite regularly.”

“You know perfectly well what I mean.”

“Perhaps.”

“What did you want to talk about?”

I explained the experience of the dream and Diane’s phone call and asked her what she made of it.

“Seeing you as an angel isn’t difficult and that might be my bias as we all interpret reality slightly differently. While I wouldn’t encourage anyone to get involved in alternate beliefs, especially occult ones, most wiccans I’ve met were good enough souls who like to feel an attachment to this planet. I feel it would hold me back to think that way as we are on this earth not of it in a spiritual sense.”

“What about returning to dust and Adam being made from dirt?”

“That’s a metaphor, Cathy, in my universe, we are souls who interpret material bodies to exist here and to learn lessons about the physical world that might not be possible in the spiritual realms.”

“Okay, that works for you but I feel is a cop out, however, was Debbie threatening me or was I or the goddess threatening her?”

“I suspect she might have been trying to assert herself in a way that she felt you didn’t outrank her, possibly it was all unconscious stuff, however, she had a surprise realising you outranked her there too and your goddess was prepared to offer you her protection and sent Debbie away with a flea in her ear. That’s my best guess. If she has any sense she’ll not try it again.”

“Could it all have happened in my imagination?”

“How did that involve someone else not closely related to you?”

“I have no idea, perhaps my ego is so big she walked into it, she has the use of my old office as I’ve got Tom’s now.”

“Wasn’t he your professor as well as your dad?”

“Yes.”

“So if you have his office—you’re a professor—oh well done, especially at your young age.”

“I’m only acting professor, he’s acting Vice Chancellor.”

“But even so, it’s quite an accolade at your age.”

“Nah, they just wanted to keep the mammal survey here because of the prestige of it and the income it generates.”

“And this is your project, isn’t it?”

“Essentially, yes. Where I go, so does it.”

“I’m sure it’s much broader than that, after all you’re a noted academic as seen on TV,” she chuckled at me.

“That sometimes leads to professional jealousy rather than respect.”

“Sadly, I can appreciate that though I see no grounds for it unless they’re jealous of your looks, knowledge and skill in sharing it to make it interesting to others. My husband, who has as much interest in dormice as I do in model trains, found you totally captivating.”

I was blushing as I listened to her. “Perhaps you need to tell him about my ability to transform into a psychopathic angel?”

“Back to your usual self effacement, sadly.”

“I’m not comfortable with any of this stuff, the religion or the undeserved compliments.”

“Isn’t it the duty of others to determine how they feel about some experience they’ve had rather than yours to write it off because you didn’t feel it was too demanding. I have both your films on DVD and have watched them several times, including enough to notice you wrote and directed the film as well as presented them. To my mind, that constitutes a high level of skill.”

“It was a way of saving money—honest.”

“Cathy, you are a serial self-effacer, stop it and listen to your elder for a moment. You have incredible gifts and talents which I believe are divinely inspired because only God could give them to you. Your healing gift is second only to Jesus, himself and he was God incarnate. You are a very special woman, barely a day goes by without me giving thanks for your healing on my daughter’s face, please accept your special place in this world and the job you’ve been sent here to do.”

Oh not that old chestnut, not going down that road again.

“I have to go, Marguerite, it’s been lovely talking to you.” Before she could say anything else I rang off. No matter how hard I try, I can’t go along with being God’s special agent, it sounds like something out of the X-Files or the Spanish Inquisition. If I’m special, then we all are because we’re all human and it’s our humanity that makes us special as well as unique. It doesn’t need Gods or goddesses for that to happen, just compassion and love for others. I also recognise I’m as flawed as anyone else, so unworthy of being special, as a daughter of Cain.

My cup was empty and as I rose to refill it I noticed David drive off in the minibus thing, presumably to collect my children. I hurried to make my tea, my peace and quiet wouldn’t last much longer so I’d enjoy it, and its facilitation of deep thought, while I could.