Biblical by Christopher Galt Read Free Book Online Page B

a vague question for you to give me a vague answer. I asked you specifically if you believed in angels … you know, anthropomorphic beings with giant wings growing out of their backs.”
    “That’s not what an angel is, my son,” said the priest. “An angel is a messenger of God, or even the message itself. More a being of spirit than—”
    “Do you believe in angels, Gabriel?” Corbin cut the priest off.
    Gabriel laughed bitterly. “Believe? I believe in nothing. But the funny thing is that the nothing I believe in is a nothing where absolutely everything is possible. All things, all ideas, all possibilities. Even angels. If you’re a psychiatrist, Peter, thenyou’ll know that angels are real. Not to everybody, but to some. I bet you’ve had patients who believe totally, completely, that they’ve seen angels. The fact that the angels exist only in their minds and no one else’s doesn’t mean they’re not real. Angels, demons, ghosts …” He paused, his tone becoming troubled. “And monsters. I bet you’ve seen them all, treated them, cured them. Am I right? Have you cured people of their belief in angels?”
    “I’ve helped patients with delusional disorders, if that’s what you mean.”
    There was a pause. Gabriel’s gaze remained fixed on the farin-the-distance something invisible to everyone else. “You’ve been very busy recently, haven’t you, Peter?” he said eventually. “You’ve had to chase away a lot more angels and ghosts of late. Many, many more than usual … Am I right?”
    There was another pause, this time Corbin standing quiet. Something in that silence troubled Macbeth.
    “Why do you say that?” said Corbin.
    “I’m right, aren’t I? There are more people than usual seeking a cure for their visions. What do you tell them? Do you tell them they’re mad? Or has it begun with you too? Maybe just the odd thing out of the corner of your eye? Those are the worst. Those are the ones that drive you crazy … they’re never still there when you turn. Has that been happening to you, Peter? Are you already a seer of visions yourself? Do you now tell your patients that they were right all along? Do you tell them the angels are coming?”
    Again Macbeth noticed that Corbin paused before answering. In the silence he could hear the city sounds of traffic in the dark; distant shouting and laughter. Noises off.
    “Do you see angels?” asked Corbin. “Is that what you’re seeing now, in the sky?”
    Gabriel laughed. “Stop reflecting. Deflecting. I want to know if you ever wondered about the reality your patients describe …Have you ever lain in bed at night, in the dark, and questioned whether their reality is the valid one and yours the false? I mean, you must encounter as many people with their own version of reality as those who share the standard version.”
    “We all know what true reality is, Gabriel.”
    The naked man laughed. “You mean consensual reality? Reality is reality if enough people believe in it? What if everybody … and I mean everybody … started to have visions? Everybody except you? Would that mean that you were delusional? Let’s put it this way: Father Mullachy here has devoted his life to serve a supernatural entity. But that’s acceptable because there’s a history to his fantasy and there’s still some consensus behind it. But if he devoted himself in exactly the same way to exactly the same set of beliefs, but said it was a giant mouse who lives hidden in the clouds that commanded his presence here, because the giant mouse is worried about my spiritual wellbeing, that wouldn’t be acceptable. You would say he was delusional. Big question, isn’t it?”
    “The only question I’m interested in at the moment is why you are here, Gabriel.”
    There was another elastic silence before Gabriel spoke. “Have you ever seen a Golden Dart Frog? They’re beautiful: bright, beautiful colors, not just gold. And so tiny – less than half an inch