Reggie Sees an Angels

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Reggie never asked if anyone else could see them. As a middle child he was always overlooked. He wasn’t the oldest child going to seminary school or youngest who was destined to be the baby at every age. He went on to be an utterly unremarkable adult, a high school dropout, an adequate member of the college hockey team, and ate out with his friends on the weekends. The clouds were the only thing that he had to himself. To him, the clouds were his lifelong friends. They were born with him, and would die with him.

The first time he had noticed the purple clouds was at a sleepover he had gone to in the third grade. He was always told to obey his parents as if they were the lord. The host of the sleepover’s parents said they could stay up as late as they wanted, so Reggie obeyed.

What he wanted was to last past midnight. While his friends dozed all around him, Reggie prayed for the willpower to see the clock strike twelve. The sound of the clock made something unclench inside of him. Out the window the sky brightened into a swirl of sunrise and sunset. Purple clouds rose up from the horizon to enter the painterly sky. They moved like living things; a shoal of fish, or a flock of birds. Were these the angels they talked about at Sunday school?

The next day he willed himself to stay up past midnight. When the clock struck twelve, there they were. It was the same time for every midnight that came after. The sky changed into a smeared watercolor painting of a sunset, the perfect place for the clouds to dance.

At church they would talk about miracles, signs, and angels. Was that what he was seeing? A miracle of magical clouds meant just for him? Was it the work of angels? He searched for shapes in the clouds. Faces here, wings there. Halos of light bloomed over them.

He faith strengthened when he realized no one else saw the angels. He had this one thing to himself in his mediocre life. Only the chosen saw angels, which put him a step above the rest. No matter what anyone said he was God’s chosen messengers.

His faith strengthened with each passing year. He left high school in favor youth group, protesting with his family, and spreading the word of God. Another love called to him from afar, a terrible temptation he couldn’t help but succumb to. Hockey was everything to him that wasn’t in the midnight sky. It wasn’t something he had to himself, but the connection he shared with his teammates, and the exhilarating joy of being out on the ice.

But the hockey team was made of the men who backed him every step of the way. Hockey was his only calling besides spreading the faith. The realization shocked him at first. There was nothing he was supposed to love more than God. But what if he used hockey to spread the word? What if he made his sinful love a part of his true calling?

His talent for the sport earned him a scholarship to college. On the campus he would share the word of God. With every friend he made amongst his teammates, he came closer to his goal. He saw the angel’s faces more clearly now. They looked down upon him with serene indifference.

Only religion could create morality, and as God’s messenger, Reggie was always moral. Animals were created by God for man’s benefit, so it was his right to swerve towards squirrels on the road. Women were created from Adam’s rib, so he informed his professor she would only happier if she quit her job to be a housewife. His family saw him for the first time, to celebrate his boldness in spreading the faith. He didn’t need his godless classmates. Reggie didn’t need them. He had his team, his purple clouds, his angels, his God. They were all for him.

In Junior year he brought a sign to campus. Despite the jeers of his classmates, he stood loudly and proudly in the center of the quad. His teammates had seen snippets of this side of him come out before. It was something they tolerated. Now that it had gone public they couldn’t keep him on the team. They had kept on worse than him, but he was expendable. Not good, not bad, just average at the game. There would be others to replace him.

Reggie didn’t have a full night’s sleep for days. The purple clouds lasted longer than they had before. They even appeared to him in the day, but had turned darker and rumbled with thunder. Why were the clouds so angry at him? He had done what he had been placed on this Earth to do.

He had to make it right. Public preaching wasn’t enough, he had to make a sacrifice. The hockey team had left him behind, but he had to cut them out of his heart to devote himself to the faith. He wasn’t closer to one member of the team than another. All were equal to his eyes. Reggie was the one who fell into the background, the one who was liked, but known by few. It didn’t matter who he chose.

They could be counted to be at the local burger joint after practice. Reggie waited across the street for one of them to come out alone, hockey stick at the ready. Cars rushed past with no regard for pedestrians.

The door opened, and the goalie stepped out, talking to someone still inside. As much as Reggie cherished the team, he couldn’t ignore that the goalie was a step closer to Hell than anyone he knew. He tended to roll his eyes and make jabs at Reggie when he spoke of his faith. If he went through with this, perhaps Reggie could convince him to repent before he died. A direct line to Heaven was the greatest gift Reggie could give him.

He followed the goalie while remaining on his side of the street. Above the clouds danced across the molten gold sky. They looked like his midnight angels.

Now was the time.

Reggie ran across the street with no mind for the world around him. The only things that existed were himself, his hockey stick, the goalie, and the dancing angels. The goalie turned to watch him, eyes wide, shouting incoherently. This was the moment, the perfect moment where Reggie would change his life forever.

He didn’t see the car speeding towards him.

His body was thrown into the air like a doll. He landed head first, eyes facing the sky. All the clouds in the sky swirled together. The goalie crouched next to him, begging him to stay awake. There was the sound of an ambulance.

Reggie died, but the clouds did not. They would dance with or without him.