The Mask of Winters Edge
by Andy Nicholson


Of course with it being nearly Christmas, there are always miracles happening throughout the world, but everybody usually misses them. Often these are little, almost insignificant things that are not important like Victory in some long standing war or a cure for Cancer – these are more personal and smaller things which still carry as much personal and emotional impact. They could be little things that make you smile like in the wonderment of some little girl's eyes when her daddy takes her to see Father Christmas for the first time or how beautiful the snow is when it falls silently from the sky onto the ground, but everybody usually misses them.

I used to be like this. I would work all hours I could and more, often charging around in desperation fighting through crowds often at the last minute – even on occasions snatching presents from people's hands when they were holding it in their own hands and clearly thinking about buying it.

But my world crumbled when Michelle and the children left saying I was not the man she married. I worked too often and too late into the night and then started having a drink in the office – often just to keep me going. Then it became two, then three and even four then the full bottle and before I knew it I was in bars, pubs or wherever drinking until I collapsed.

I do not remember much about those days. Apparently I sometimes used to fight. Anyone, anytime, any place. I would fight and I would fight damn fucking hard. It did not matter if I got beat into pulp or I came away with my fists streaming with somebody else's blood. I was back there same place, same bar and same situation each and every bloody night.

I know this doesn't explain why I am sitting here in this hospital. I know this doesn't explain why I saved some passing stranger in a ugly pub fight only a few hours before, and am now visiting some dying girl in a hospital ward that I have never met before but it is the only thing that still makes sense.

I don't even remember what started it off. I'd been in the Ransom all day on Whiskey Chasers and Pints of Extra Smooth, so you could argue I was pretty well fucked out of my head – and then he walked in.

The Ransom if you don't know it is a real hard nuts pub. I've seen several total strangers walk in that place and carried out in a body bag for sneezing the wrong way. I am not going to say it is an evil place or anything, it is just that sort of pub where you have to watch what you are doing or indeed in most cases say.

But this guy was different, I don't know why but he just was. He was dressed up as normal as you or me could be. He looked ordinary from his hair cut right down to the boots he wore, but he didn't look normal. Perhaps it was something in his eyes, or maybe slightly the way he walked across the bar floor to the bar and said in a neutral voice to Maggie behind the bar "A Pint of Smooth, please, love."

Do you know Maggie? Yeah, she's married to Cockney Dave, that's her. She may look as soft as cheese, but underneath the soft, tempting eyes are the eyes of a girl who doesn't take shit off anybody, in particular anybody stupid enough to call her love. There are stories I could tell you about her that would either make your blood boil or your hair curl, but it looked like that stranger knew exactly what he was doing and saying.

Dave came out towards with the stranger with Hastings and a few others and had words with the stranger. Do you know Hastings? Believe me just be glad you haven't heard off him. Any sane person would have backed down and almost begged for their lives with their reputations but not this guy. He just looked round at them and said with a taunting smile "Call that an fucking army" and smacked Dave, straight in the mouth and before I knew, Hastings and about six others had just piled into him and I was pleading for his life with a chair and a half broken bottle of Becks.

"She'll be ready soon," He said interrupting my thoughts.

"She'll be what?" I replied.

"She'll be ready soon," He repeated.

"I don't understand you" I answered "I can't believe I let you drag me in here" I paused, looking down at the floor "I hate hospitals."

"You let me drag you here because deep down in your heart, you know you wanted to be dragged here."

"No, I didn't, I have no idea who this girl is" I answered, my head motionless from looking down at the floor "I don't even know what her name is."

"Good point, Squire" A voice said from behind me.

"Constantine" the strange, turning round snarled.

"Raphael" Constantine smiled with a look at him I couldn't make up my mind if he meant or not. "Smoke?" He carried on, reaching inside a scruffy trench coat before finally producing a faded pack of silk cut and lighting one and blowing it in Raphael's face.

"Constantine, you know we don't--" He began angrily.

"Bad day at the office, I take it then" He cut in before Raphael could finish.

"I don't see what business it is of yours..." He began again.

"Don't bite my head off, old son. It ain't my fault that things are in such a bloody mess up there...."

"Who are, who are you?" I asked finally.

"I'm John Constantine," He answered, "Smoke?"

"I'm Andy. Andy Nelson. I can't, I don't smoke."

"Any relation to Kent?" He asked, in-between puffs of his cigarette.

"No" I replied.

"Good" He paused "Because he always scared the shit out of me. Him and that sodding helmet of his."

"Constantine" Raphael cut in "If you don't mind, I am here on official business."

"Okay, who shook your rattle today, mate?" He taunted. "Has Uriel or Michael been tormenting you again?"

"My brothers and I--" he snapped.

"What-ever" Constantine cut in again, then turned to me "I'd watch him, mate. You know what they say about bloody Angels..."

"He's, he's a angel," I spluttered in shock.

"He hasn't told you, has he?" Constantine answered looking surprised "Doesn't really surprise me that. Some bloody Angel he is. I bet he walked into the pub you were in, caused some fight and dragged you into the middle of it."

"How did you know?"

"I knew it" He gleamed "Raphael here--" He started.

"Constantine" Raphael tried again.

"Raphael here" Constantine started again, ignoring the threats that were gleaming out of Raphael's dagger-like eyes "Is that rare sort of breed of Angel, mate that makes as many mistakes as us humans do, and every time he does that, he does what you and me would do in a similar situation i.e. go to the nearest pub and drink yourself into the ground and fight with every and any poor bastard that goes anywhere near you."

"Constantine" Raphael growled, clearly getting pissed off.

"It's true, mate," He answered, before lighting up another cigarette, " I can remember hearing about you that time in Islington. Made a right fuck up of things that night, didn't you? You must have stood out for fucking miles when you...."

"Constantine, I would love to sit here all day and talk to you, but as I said before I am here on official business."

"And you, squire?" He said looking at me.

"I, I don't know" I answered, "It's all a big blur – I'm not sure."

"You've bought him here to show him something haven't you, Raphael?" He answered.

Raphael nodded.

"It's that girl, isn't it?" Constantine said, "Poor little bugger."

"What do you mean?"

"Andy, I wasn't planning to bring you originally with me tonight" Raphael began sitting down next to me. "I don't normally bring mortals with me on my job. The boss doesn't like this sort of thing normally, causes disbelief or something, but I have not bought you here to watch this girl die. Watching her die is not the answer to your problems. It can only make things worse."

"Why bring me here, then?" I replied looking at Constantine with some amount of fear as he lit up another cigarette.

"No, it's not just that" Raphael answered, getting onto his feet "Come with me."

"Where are you going?" Constantine said, "Come on, bound to be a laugh."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"I've got somebody I want you to meet." Raphael began.

"It's that girl?" I spluttered.

"Yes" Raphael said.

"Poor kid" Constantine said, rolling around cigarette.

"You don't know the half of it" Raphael said as he opened another door.

"Should we be doing this?" I asked.

"They can't see us "Raphael said opening another door. They carried on walking through several more wards until Raphael stopped.

The girl was only 7 or 8 with what was once a pretty little freckled face but which was now covered in tubes and wires and more tubes and wires.

"What's up with her?" I spluttered.

"Cancer" Constantine spluttered out before Raphael could answer "She's got bloody cancer."

Raphael nodded.

I swore under my breathe.

"This is what I bought you to see, Andy" Raphael said.

"To watch her die?" I countered.

"No" He countered "I bought you here because I want you to realise I am going through the same torment as you, as is Constantine."

"No, I ain't " Constantine answered.

"Newcastle," Raphael snapped.

Constantine didn't reply.

"Newcastle?"

"We all make mistakes, Andy" Raphael answered, "Constantine's was sending an innocent to hell."

"Jesus" I said.

"Wrong way, squire" Constantine answered, "Wrong bloody way."

"The difference being for me, our mistakes are a lot bigger and worse. Why do you think I was in that pub? I had just made a terrible, terrible mistake and was trying to wash it away like you."

"What about the kid? She's done nothing wrong." I said.

"True, true" Constantine said, lighting up another cigarette. "But she can't change her destiny. You can.

"That's why I bought you here," Raphael said, "Louise here cannot change her destiny. She'll probably be dead before she turns 9. You can. You can walk away from your past."

"No, I can't. Hastings'll rip my head off next time he sees me. Everyone knows Hastings"

"Bollocks, old son" Constantine cut in "You can move house, move town or maybe even move country. I cannot drop everything and tell myself everything will be all right. I killed someone. I took their life. I took someone's bloody life that was a sodding innocent. That's not something you can walk away from. Everytime I see a kid walking up the road who was her age, sometimes I end up asking myself if I hadn't done what I did in Newcastle... Could she have had a kid, perhaps maybe towards this girl's age by now?"

"Nobody's perfect" I answered finally.

"But that's the full problem, Andy. That's the full problem" Constantine said, walking away slowly.

I turned to face Raphael but he had gone.

So that is my story. And now I find myself returning to the very place where I started. I'd like to be able to tell you I lived happily ever after. Maybe ever returned to the way my life was before I started drinking. However this was only the beginning, but the beginning to what? The dying girl in that hospital ward did not shake me back into reality. It drove me further away into the edge and started me thinking.

I began to question myself, society, my very place in it, how that poor girl in that hospital lasted as long as she did with the pain she was suffering.

And oh, those miracles, yeah, you know those miracles I was rambling on back at the beginning of this tale, I guess the miracle is she lasted as long as she did. Why did she last so long in constant agony? Why did God make her suffer as long as she did? Is the after world a paradise or is it just filled with the frustrations and sadness that follows up beyond the grave? Happy Christmas.

(Sigh)



(Click here to visit Andy's website).