Archangel of Sedona (27 page)

“While it’s true that the Christus received a lot of negative comments because it was grotesque, a small cadre of folks around here began to make the same connections that you’ve made. They realized that the figure in the chapel bore more resemblance to possible alien life forms than the traditional vision of the Savior,” Hansen explained.

“Why would that matter to you and your stepdad?” Father Pat asked.

“The inspiration for the Christus
came from a local artist who claimed to have had a miraculous, personal encounter with the Holy Spirit. The encounter stimulated several drawings that Keith Monroe used to create the iron sculpture,” Hansen continued.

“The encounter wasn’t with a deity,” Eddie concluded. “This artist saw one of the inter-dimensional beings.”

“My stepmom was the local artist. Once she and Jim realized the truth, they became allies of the inter-dimensional beings. When the beings transported my real parents to the next level, the Hansens took me in to watch over me.”

“What do you mean by the next level? What’s that?” I asked.

“It’s hard to describe.”

“Is it heaven, hell, purgatory?” Father Pat asked.

“No, nothing like that. It’s a different consciousness. It’s a separate plane that’s part of the evolution of living beings that have advanced beyond the physical limitations of this universe.”

“Have you been there?” Eddie asked.

“Not yet.”

“Are there dogs there?” I asked, not sure that I should take Hansen’s ranting seriously.

“I’m pretty certain that some are. The beings promised that I’d see Rommel again.”

“Did the Catholics find out about the true nature of the Christus?” I asked.

“More or less. My stepdad convinced them that the Christus did not represent a replication of their Savior,” Hansen acknowledged. “The Catholic hierarchy is not stupid. I’m sure they realized the truth. That’s why they stopped having services here.”

“I still don’t understand,” Eddie admitted.

“Look, the chapel had been built and consecrated on a fundamental misunderstanding. These non-divine inter-dimensional beings have been coming to Sedona over many millennia. When the valley was unpopulated by humans, or the humans were in a primitive stage of development, the beings could come and go without concern. As human civilization advanced, the beings used subterfuge and guile to keep humans away from the portals. A thousand years ago, they made this part of the valley taboo. They interacted with the humans and used natural disasters, which they could predict with their advanced technology, to frighten the Sinagua.”

“Your special friends haven’t been able to keep people away from Sedona these last fifty years,” I pointed out.

“Realtors and land developers are a fearless and greedy breed. Other than the Sierra Club, the EPA, or high interest rates, nothing frightens them,” Hansen said, smiling at his own joke.

“Are these beings from another universe, angels?” I asked.

“The answer to that question is both yes and no,” Hansen responded.

“Explain,” I demanded.

“These visitors travel to this dimension, using technology that’s twenty-thousand years ahead of ours. They can do things that we dream about. Their life spans are hundreds of times longer than ours. On those occasions that humans have encountered them, the difference in intelligence and technology gets misinterpreted,” Hansen said.

“That sounds like
Chariots of the Gods,”
I said.

“Not really. Gentlemen, we’re fortunate that this particular race has portals here. They’re benign. They mean us no harm. They like us. However, they have enemies who are not so gentle. They’ve been in conflict with the others longer than humans have been a species.”

“Are the enemies venerated by the Santo Diablo sect?” I asked.

“Yes, Tony. I can see that you’ve been doing your homework.”

“Why do these benign life forms come here? What benefit accrues?” Eddie asked.

“They’re looking for God.” Hansen said.

“You said they were advanced, centuries ahead of us. Why would they seek God here, when they travel the universe and pass through several multiverses? Why our planet?”

“Good old planet Earth has been uniquely blessed. The beings believe that we’ve had contact with the Great Divinity. On Earth, they see the signs everywhere.”

“If they’re so advanced, what did they think of Jesus?” Father Pat asked.

“They never met Him,” Don Hansen revealed. “These beings are not omniscient. They’re not divine, nor always here. They come from a dimension where the laws of physics are different. Time is different there too. For example, our northern hemispheric September second coincides with a major solstice on their planet. They miss things. One of their biggest failures was not being in the right place at the right time when Christ was present on the other side of this planet.”

“Was that a misfortune, coincidence, or part of the Divine Plan?” I asked.

“Very perceptive, Tony!” Hansen said. “The beings wonder about that, too.”

“Why do they keep coming?” I asked.

“Here’s a gross oversimplification. As they advanced in knowledge and technology, they embraced—then rejected—the theory that the multiverse spontaneously came into existence because of a random event. The more they learned, the more complex their reality appeared. For example, they know that in this universe the most distant galaxy from earth is much farther than thirteen billion light years. They realize that the Higgs boson is closer to the beginning than the end of sub-atomic structure. Over eons, they abandoned the atheistic viewpoint. Millions of years ago, they began a search for signs of the omniscient Intelligence that created everything. Over vast distances, time frames, and dimensions, they’ve examined tens of thousands of cultures. They found indisputable signs of the Creator’s divine interaction with life forms on a small fraction of the civilizations that they examined. Since the cultures that have had this blessing are rare, the good beings cultivate and protect the precious few that they’ve found.

There is a human prophecy that the Redeemer will come again. They’re here to witness that event when it happens.”

“What about the bad angels or whatever you call them?” Eddie asked.

“They come here too. They inspire evil. You men have seen it. The Santo Diablo sect is one of many groups that venerate them,” Hansen said. “The demons undermine the efforts of the good angels. They sponsor violence, hopelessness, confusion, and doubt.”
      

“How does all of this affect us?” I asked.

“You’re here talking to me, Tony, rather than exploring the parameters of your eternal reward, because of these benign visitors.”

“How is that?” I asked.

“Do you and Eddie honestly think that two older men, regardless of experience and training, could defend themselves against twelve vicious killers from a violent cult without some special assistance? Come on. Who woke you in time to defend yourselves at the tank? If you think you and Eddie bested those Diablo’s without the assistance of the inter-dimensional beings, you’re delusional.”

“How do you know those details?” I asked.

“Tony, you can be so naïve. Who cushioned your fall from the cliff in college? Who saved you from your own drunken stupidity in the car accident north of Tucson? Who saved your ass countless times in Vietnam and later? You have no fucking idea how close you came on your twenty-first birthday. You survived all of those events and several others because you have a role to play in a Grand Scheme. Who sent Gretchen on her path to intersect with yours? My special friends connected with you in 1966 and they’ve been looking out for you ever since.”

“Are you saying that I was abducted? I don’t remember anything like that.”

“You weren’t abducted. The beings don’t have to kidnap, examine, experiment, or abuse our species like in the trashy movies. When they encountered you, because of the different physical laws in their dimension, they could see your whole life unfold. Throughout the years they’ve been there in subtle ways to help you, Gretchen, Tim, and John.”

“Like guardian angels?” I asked.

“On steroids, Tony,” Hansen said.

“That explains Tony, what about Eddie? What about me?” Father Pat asked.

“Eddie’s life is connected to Tony’s. They passed very near to each other a dozen times. They were stationed together at Fort Bragg. They even made a jump together in 1981.”

“That must have been the Fort Irwin jump. What a disaster. That was very close,” Eddie said. He stopped to consider the implications. “Tony, were you on that disastrous brigade mass tactical jump at Fort Irwin?”

“Yeah, Eddie. I was one of the straphangers for the brigade’s headquarters company. Bad jump. What a mess. I broke my tailbone. There were sixteen Paratroopers killed on that one. I didn’t know you were there, too.”
      
      
      

“We didn’t know each other then,” Eddie said.

“How about me? Why am I here?” Father Pat asked.

“Tony was right. He and Eddie needed a chaplain. Besides, we couldn’t let Tony move on to the next level with thirty years of sin unresolved. You had to give him absolution.”

In the weirdest way, Hansen made perfect sense. By all rights, Eddie, Father Pat and I should have never left the overhang near Schnebly Tank alive. I’d known for decades that someone was running interference for me. Now, I wanted to know why.

“Where are Bob and Cindy Stedman? Where’s Dan Ostergaard?” I asked, somewhat mollified by the amazing demonstration of Hansen’s prescience.

“You’ll find that out later,” Hansen promised. “I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”

One major question remained.

“OK, Donnie,” I began. “Why you and me in 1966; and why Eddie, Father Pat, and I now? What specific business do these beings have with us? What’s the Grand Plan, Scheme, Design or whatever? What’s my role in it?”

“I don’t know all of the details,” Hansen said. “You’ll have to take that up with Michael.”

“Who’s Michael?” Eddie asked as he looked at Father Pat and me.

“Eddie, ask Tony. He knows who Michael is. Don’t you Tony?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

“Sure you do. You’re a big fan of Michael’s. That medal around your neck.”

“Michael the Archangel?” I asked. “Is that who you mean?”

“Who else?” Hansen said, an arrogant smile on his face.

“Be serious, asshole,” Eddie said as he stepped closer to Hansen.

“Eddie, relax. Michael would never let any of you harm me.”

“Don, good angels would never protect a man who had David Fleet killed. If any of this is true, Michael the Archangel would never shield you.”

“Michael knows that I’m not the man who sold David out to the killers.”

“Then who?” I demanded.

“Jim Wilson,” Hansen answered.

“The skinny little shit who runs the gift shop here?” I asked.

“The very same.”

“Why?” I asked.

“You’ll have to ask Michael, but I think that Jim’s in tight with the Diablo’s.”

“I was right. That fucker has blood-red eyes and works for demons.”

“What are you talking about?” Father Pat asked, but he kept his eyes on Hansen.

“We’ll talk later. You guys at the Parish have a spy in your midst,” I said.

“What do we do about this man, Wilson?” Father Pat asked Hansen

“We’ve taken precautions. We have our own agent to watch him.”

“Who?”

“Linda Alvarez. The beings saved her a thousand years ago from an attempt by her people to sacrifice her. They took her to their dimension and trained her to help her species here. They returned her a couple of years ago.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Ask Michael.”

“Cute. OK Don, I’ll ask Michael the Archangel,” I said. “Maybe we can do lunch. How about drinks at the Cowboy Club?”

“How about now?” Hansen said as he stepped to the side.

Out of the darkness behind Hansen, a large figure emerged from the shadows. It stood at least nine feet tall, impossibly long arms, long skinny legs and feet. His face was humanoid, complete with eyes, a nose, and a mouth. I could detect no expression.

The figure seemed to glide toward us rather than walk. It moved past Hansen and stopped a mere six feet in front of us. I felt no fear, but no joy or rapture either.

“Holy shit!” Eddie said, as he looked up at the expressionless face of the being Hansen claimed was Saint Michael the Archangel. “Still have my six, Tony?”

“Absolutely, brother!” I said. “You OK, Father? By the way, I haven’t finished my rosaries yet.”

“Better than OK. I’d get moving on the penance, my friend. Something tells me that we’re about to have an accounting at the next level,” Father Pat said. “Tony, Eddie, look. Adolf is purring like a cat!”

“Michael before you take them to the next level, these men have some questions for you,” Hansen said in the distance.

The Angel turned, looked back at Hansen, then turned back to face us. He looked down on us. I saw his head nod ever so slightly. He spread his arms and hands to their full extent and his face formed the smallest of smiles.

I guess I’ll finally get some satisfaction
, I thought.
There is no serendipity
.