Archangles

To him, they were saviors.

How many years it had been, he can’t remember.

But he knew them in a way, with his heart, that time doesn’t really matter.

Just those precious moments.

“How many years?” he asked himself.

Technology, to him, was a maze. Too technical… perhaps.

He was always more interested in the strength and delicacy of the chambers, the flow.

“Can I really see where they are? Let’s try this thing out…”

First. He tapped in a name.  Last.

“No, they want to charge me to go through their door. . . Let’s try this one. Free, as it always has been.”

Entered the approximate location (the name of a city), “There...”

Name. Number. Address.

Now, he was looking down from above.

“Wonder what it looks like from the street?”

And, within a few moments, he was ‘walking the neighborhood’, admiring the nicely kept laws, looking at the trees, seeing how the cars are parked… and thinking, “Kudos to the engineers for their intuition… looks like their tech finally makes sense,” as he felt his way around.

“Okay… let’s  see who is home and ‘say hello’.”

A familiar voice answered. So many years… one he could recognize and feel.

Chambers.

Immediately, he starts off, and then realizes he’s talking to someone far greater, omniscient wisdom and omnipotent in love.

Flow.

“Yes. You must be Will. Your name is mentioned from time to time. They talk about you. And no need to apologize," as if to say 'Yes, these calls do come in all the time,' softly spoken with just a hint of a faded, southern drawl.

“I consider him my son too… they’ve been together since grade school. He used to come over and play. They’ve always been together. Such a pleasure to watch. Known him since he was a little boy.” 

What those eyes must have seen.

Watching their lifelines...

“You’ll want the number. I have his. Of course they’ll love to hear from you. She’s not feeling well since the accident, a little weak.”

The big accident had happened so long ago… but this one was recent.

The tone in her voice, so gentle, so understanding.

This may be their last look around together, before…

"Thank you..."

“No… not at all,” there was pleasure in her voice, so at peace with witnessing it all.

He did his best to respect her with praise, though he was at a loss somehow,  unable to find the right words...if they even exist.

He could feel the smile in her voice as she thanked him with, “Go ahead and give them a call.”

No need to try and count how many years it has been, how many lives have been saved.

Now, there is a seemingly endless and welcome flow of thanks…

He just didn’t know what to say… and was reminded that he didn’t really need to say anything.

Knowing his visit will be appreciated, because, somehow, he was important to them to.  

"I just don't know how," he dr i f  t   e      d.

A part of you never leaves.

Guess this is how it feels to stick around... no regrets for staying on while not getting that one job done.

...may not be the answer, it can't be all that great
But [they kept him] living, with life [they could] relate

"Crossroads? You can't sell what's already been claimed." 

"Yeah... but I'm still going back."

"'Roy'... his crew ain't interested in you."