Passage

There. Just beyond the edge of the darkness, that is where they hang. They watch us, waiting... expecting a move from us. Anticipating an attack...

And why should we let them down?

I give Raphael a silent signal and he slides into the shadows. I see the light glint off his sai for a second as they are drawn from his belt. Michaelangelo goes vertical, climbing onto a fire escape, above - out of sight. Donatello stays by my side, his hands tensing around his bo. I draw my own swords, I make certain they make no noise as they leave the sheath.

They know all this, they know our strategy. They know from what angle we will come in, and still we come. Because we have to, because there is no other logical path... because this is the way they expect us to come. I nod towards Don and he stops, crouching in the darkness. I step into the light alone, holding out my swords - challenging them. They accept.

A star comes out of the pitch, I dodge it easily. They knew I would. I knew that they would know. There is no mystery in this battle, it's a game of tic-tac-toe. Easily anticipated, no way to win. But I intend to win. I make my first X, a slash into the night. I can't see him, but he's there. He dodges my blade and comes back with his own. Ah... there's his first move. His first mark, his first mistake. As I duck I thrust and feel the resistance as my blade pushes through his body. He doesn't cry out - a true ninja until the end.

I stand and bow to the darkness. Will no one else challenge? I have my answer in the sound of my brothers' battle cry. The fight has begun, the war commences. The night is still new.

Four attack me at once and I jump above two, the others are ready when I land, they come at me with paired nunchaku. Young and foolish. I run my blade through one of them and he falls back, screaming. Not so much the ninja as the one who had come before. I leave my sword in him as I reach for the other, he swings the chuck at me clumsily. I grab the end and wrench it out of his grip, brining it back around at his head. There is a hollow thump as it contacts his skull and he collapses to the ground. Two away, two more to go.

I pull my sword out of the ninja's belly and spin, kicking out to where the other two stand. I hit one, the other hits me and I fall to the ground. But only for an instant. A second later I am back on my feet and my blade has slashed through his skin, he clutches at his chest and I hit him in the head with the hilt of my sword. He's down. Maybe not dead, but two out of four isn't bad. Number three is writhing on the ground, holding to his side where my foot met. I pick him up by the arm and pull off his hood.

"Leave here," I tell him. "Or die in dishonor."

He falls back onto the ground and scrambles away into the night. I don't know if I should pity him or what.

Around me the sounds of battle have ceased. One by one, my brothers step out of the darkness. They're bloody, bruised... victorious. Raphael spins his sai and thrusts it back into his belt, wiping the human blood off of it as it passes the leather. He smiles. I knew he would. I turn to face Michaelangelo. He is kneeling beside the ninja I had knocked in the head. Mike looks up at me and nods. That one will survive. Maybe.

I hear Donatello run the end of his bo along the concrete and I look over at him. Someone is standing beside him. A stranger. I step forward with my swords tight in my grip. Don doesn't make a move towards the man, but he's there - he must be able to see him.

"Don!" I yell. "Watch out!"

Donatello looks around him then back at me. He shrugs. "What?"

The stranger looks at me and then turns to Don.

"Don't you see him?" I bound forward.

"See who?" he looks around him again. Jesus, he's looking right at him and he doesn't see.

I swipe at the stranger and Donatello ducks.

"Hey, watch it!"

What? I didn't hit him... where did the man go? I look around but he is gone. I didn't just imagine him... I couldn't have.

"You okay, Leo?" Mike walks up to me and puts his hand on my shoulder.

"Didn't any of you see him?"

"See who?" Raphael asks.

"He was here! Beside Don... he had a green jacket on... didn't you see him?"

"Leo, there was nobody beside me," Don says.

I turn to look at Donatello. He's there, right there... standing behind him. The stranger glares at me and puts his hand on Don's throat. Can't he feel it?

"Don! Behind you!"

He spins in a full circle, the stranger is gone again. Don looks at me and tilts his head. "Leo, are you sure you didn't get knocked on the head?"

"He was there! He touched your damn throat, didn't you feel it?"

"I didn't feel anything."

"And I didn't see anything," Raph says. "And I was looking right at Don."

Mike walks up to me and looks into my eye, feeling the top of my head. I push him away.

"I didn't get hit in the head!" I yell.

I put my swords back into their sheathes and look at the worried faces around me. They think I'm crazy. I wave my hand and they follow as I lead them back into the darkness. But wait...

I spin around, I sense something. My heart quickens and my muscles tense. My brothers feel it, too... they are battle-ready. There is something there, something in the dark... someone left on his feet. This one is good, we nearly missed him. Maybe it's the stranger... maybe I'm not crazy, after all. I look at Raph and then Mike. They look back and signal with their eyes - the enemy is not within their area of reach. Don is not so certain - he takes a step forward then turns to face me.

I see a flash of a blade... too late for me to react, I'm too far away. A ninja leaps out of the darkness behind Donatello and puts the knife to his throat - he pulls it across. Blood pours out of my brother's neck and he falls forward onto the ground.

"Don!" Mike yells as he launches himself towards the ninja. Raph is there first, stabbing the man with his sai, running him through time and again, each thrust digging deeper into the man's stomach. I see him pound the sai into the ninja one last time and the blade goes clear through his back. Raph throws the man to the ground and kicks him in the head.

I make it to Don's side, Mike is already kneeling, flipping him onto his shell. Oh, Jesus... Donny's throat is sliced clean through. I can see the hollow tube of his trachea, the raw red of his muscles. Blood sprays out from the open arteries, pulsing with each slowing heartbeat. He looks up at me, his eyes filled with pain... he tries to speak. Oh, good Lord... his mouth is moving... he can feel it. He can feel everything. A tear rolls down his face and I pull him up into my arms.

He's not going to survive... Jesus, he's going to die. There's nothing we can do, the wound is too severe, the cut too deep. I hold him tightly to my plastron and his blood pours over me. He's dying in my arms. My brother... I'm losing my brother...

"Die, Don..." I whisper. "Don't hold onto this, please... let go..."

He looks up at me one more time and closes his eyes. I watch the blood spurt once from his veins then it flows, unaided... he did as I asked. He obeyed one final command. He died with honor.

I look up at the others. They're heads are hung forward, bowing to our brother. Raphael is holding tightly to his sai, he's covered with the ninja's blood as I am with Don's. He is shaking - that's the way he cries. Mike is gripping Don's hand, squeezing it tightly. Mike is the one to show the most pain, the tears roll down his cheeks freely, dripping onto the bloody concrete. He takes a shaky breath and looks up at me.

"Let's... let's get Donny below..." he says, choking on the words.

I stand, picking our brother up in my arms. His head flops back, tearing what is left of the skin on his neck. I adjust him so he leans forward, his cheek against my shoulder. He's heavy, but a weight I will bear. This is a weight I will bear for the rest of my life...

We stand in front of the place. It was where we chose to inter Don's body, a spot deep within the sewer where humans seldom trod. We built an alcove of brick and laid him within, mortaring the remaining bricks around him so the grave would not be seen easily. We have already said our farewells, but none of us truly want to leave our brother there alone. It would be so final, turning our backs and walking away. But we must, so we do.

We leave Don behind us as we walk home silently. Nothing is left unsaid, but many tears left uncried. I try to hold my head up, to put forth a strong countenance. To be the leader that they need now more than ever. Nothing can prepare you for the loss of a brother, nothing can take away the pain and the anger. Earlier Raphael spoke of justice. Justice is sometimes a poorly disguised term for revenge. I forbade it and Raphael gave me the look that he always does when he intends to disobey my orders. I won't stop him - not if he chooses that path.

We get home and separate, each going his own way. I am still covered with Donatello's blood, though dried as it has become. I walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower. It feels odd, cold though I have the hot tap on full. I watch the blood dissolve off me and swirl down the shower drain. Don...

I turn off the water and towel myself dry. There is still some blood on me, it comes off onto the white towel. I throw it into the hamper and walk out of the bathroom, into my own bedroom. I lay down on my bed and put my hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling. I hadn't mentioned the stranger I'd seen, but I know now that he was really there. He really did put his hand on Donatello's throat, condemning him to die. I feel myself start to drift and let my eyes close... perhaps in my sleep I will find the answers that I seek...

I open my eyes. I'm standing. Where am I? There's a stench around me, no breeze in the air. I look ahead, I'm on a city street, I recognize it... it is where Donny died. But I'm here in the daylight. No, not light. The sky is leaden, clouds hang motionless above me, blocking out the sun. The air is thick, almost liquid. I can barely move. I turn my face to the ground and gasp, drawing in more of the smell. I hadn't been able to identify the smell before, but now I know it is that of death, the odor of decay. Bodies lay sprawled out along the street, rotting away in death. The concrete is covered in blood, dried in places, congealed in others... and still flowing from some of the lifeless corpses around me. I close my eyes and look away, unable to move my feet from the place they have become adhered. I look down at them, i am mired up to my ankles in the blood...

I look to my side in disgust and I suddenly wish I hadn't. Donatello is there, propped up against the side of a building. His throat still flows and he is unmoving, but there is something in his eyes. Life. He still has life in him here, in this place. He must endure it here, must live through the dying. Ever dying, never dead... a torture. An everlasting agony.

There is a movement at the edge of my vision, the only movement in this Necropolis. I look up and the stranger walks towards me. He has a long beard that comes to the center of his chest and his greying hair is tied back into a tail. He wears the green jacket I remembered, it is an old army coat. Maybe the kind they used in Vietnam or Korea... He isn't looking at me, but at the bodies around us on the ground. He steps around them and finally looks up at me. He has tears rolling from his eyes, dripping onto the front of the coat. He opens his mouth and speaks words that do not emerge. He's pointing at something. At me? No, behind me...

I twist to look at where he has shown me. I stare down at the ground, at a stagnant puddle of water untainted by the blood around it. Within the puddle's depths lays one of Raphael's sai. I spin back around and look at the man, pointing at him I open my mouth to demand what he is saying. My own words are as silence, even as I scream as loud as I can, there is nothing to be heard. He steps up closer and folds his hands, lowering his eyes. Was that regret..? Is he asking for forgiveness?

No... not forgiveness. He looks into my eyes and points up at the sky, then back towards the puddle. The sky..? The sun..? Time. He's telling me that I am running out of time...

I open my eyes and sit straight up in bed. My heart is pounding in my chest. A dream? No... no, it wasn't a dream. It couldn't have been just a dream. It was a warning... a chance...

I jump out of bed and run to Raphael's room. He isn't there. He left - he went out seeking revenge. It can't be too late, I can still get to him in time. I run to Mike's room and throw open the door.

"Come on!" I yell.

Mike jumps up and glares at me. He must have been having a nightmare, too. "Leo!" he says, running to my side. He puts his hands on my shoulders. "Leo, did you see..."

I nod as we both turn and run towards the door to the lair. We grab our weapons as we leave.

"Leo!" Mike yells as he keeps pace behind me. "I dreamed that Raph..."

"I saw it, too!" I bellow as we burst onto the street. "I saw the water, I saw the sai..." I stop and grab Mike by the arm, stopping him, as well. "Did you see anything else?" I ask hastily.

He shakes his head. "No, just that... but I know where he is!"

Mike runs on ahead and I follow. We come to a spot by the river and Mike secures his pace, I do likewise. We step along slowly, following his silently bestowed directions. We come to a culvert and Michaelangelo closes his eyes for a moment before looking inside. He turns back to me and collapses onto the sand, burying his face in his palms. I don't have to ask, I know what he found.

I kneel down and look inside. I see Raph's hand lying motionless in the murky water, inches away from his sai. I reach within and pull him out, aided in the last few feet by Michaelangelo. We lay Raph down on the sandy bank of the river and fold his hands across his chest. He's cold, stiff. He must have been there for hours already. There is no sign of a struggle - his skin is unmarred by blade or blunt, save from the battle of yesterday. He wasn't beaten to death or strangled - he was drowned. There is a trail of disturbed sand leading from the river to the culvert. A smooth path and many feet. He had been outnumbered, held under. There is no sign that he managed to take out any of the enemy when he went. I hope that he did.

This brother Michaelangelo carries. He lifts him into his arms and river water runs out of his mouth. Mike cries. No brothers ever loved so strongly as he and Raphael had. I'm trying not to cry, it doesn't work. We have lost two brothers in as many days, there will be no return for them. Finality... death. I was warned before Donatello died... I was warned before Raphael died... I didn't heed either warning, I didn't anticipate this. Who could? Who could ever be ready for such a tragedy? I should be. I should pull myself back and look on as an unwavering leader. But that is not how I see myself - I'm not a leader at this moment, I am a brother. A brother who has lost two of his own.

I look over at Mikey as he carries his burden. I will not ignore the warning next time, I will not let Mike fall into the same hell-city as I saw in my dream... my vision. I'll not let the Necropolis claim one more member of my family...

I stand in my bedroom, silently staring at my reflection in the mirror. I'm not who I want to see, but I look deep into my eyes. I have been trying to go to sleep, to visit that place again. I need to know if it holds anything else for my warning. I look to the side of my reflection. I see him there - the stranger. He stands in my doorway, staring at me. I don't turn. I know that if I do he will vanish, that I will not have seen the warning. He folds his hands again and then points down the hall, towards Mike's room. He steps into my bedroom, up to my back. He reaches out a hand and points at the crook of my elbow. I draw in a breath. The warning is for my own life. The man nods solemnly and I blink. He is gone.

I run out of my room, to Mike's. He is sitting on his bed, staring at the wall. He sees me come in and jumps to his feet.

"Did you see something again?" he asks.

"Yes. Did you?"

He shakes his head. "No."

I pull him into a hug. "It's me this time," I tell him. "It's me. Promise me, Mike... you won't let yourself die after me. Don't let them take you, too."

"Wait..." he looks into my face. "What did you see? What, exactly?"

I rub my head. "The stranger I told you about. He came to my room... he pointed at my arm."

"Your arm?"

I show him the place, the vein at the crook of my elbow. I'm not afraid to die. I'm ready to die... the only thing that frightens me is what will befall Mike after I am gone. Don and Raph have died - now, if I am to follow, Mike will be the last of us. The final survivor of a species that nature had never intended to exist. I can't face up to that, I can't let the last of our kind fade from this world.

I don't have to. I look at my arm again. There is something that I have not thought of... what is it? I know. I know now... I run out of Mike's room to the drug cabinet. It isn't merely medicines we keep within, we keep our potions there, as well. I root through the bottles and find the right one. This is it - what I needed. Mike walks into the lab and up to me. He takes the bottle and eyes it curiously.

"Leo... what the hell are you going to do with this?" he asks.

I grab one of the blow darts out of it's leather case and take the bottle from Mike's hand. I take off the top and toss it aside, dipping the tip of the dart in the metallic-smelling liquid. Michaelangelo tries to pull the dart out of my grip, I hold on.

"You have to trust me, Mike..." I say. "I know what I have to do."

"Leo, don't be crazy! Killing yourself won't bring back Don and Raph!"

I look at him in the eye. "I'm not killing myself, Mikey... I'm going somewhere."

"What are you talking about?"

"There's someone in there, someone who has the answer. I need to talk to him."

Mike is confused, it reads all over his face. He shakes his head. "I can't let you do this, Leo."

I take hold of his hand. "Mike, I need your help. I told you, I'm not killing myself..."

"But this stuff is deadly," he says, picking up the bottle.

"Not entirely... not if you administer the antidote in time."

Mike turns to the cabinet and looks around, bringing out another brown bottle - the antidote. He looks at it, then at me. He doesn't want me to do this. Neither do I.

"Think about this..." he says to me.

"I have thought about it, there isn't another option."

"Yes, there is... we can go out and find the ninjas that killed them... we can handle it. Leo, please... please. I don't want to lose you, too..."

I put my hand on the side of his face. I don't know why, but I know this is what has to be done. The stranger's message is clear in my mind now, I understand what it is he wants me to do. Mike lets himself cry again, he sits beside me on the bed and leans against my shoulder. I rest my head on the top of his.

"Just don't let me fall too far," I tell him.

He looks up at me and I jam the dart into my vein. He reaches out as I dissolve into a world of darkness.

"Leo!" I hear him call out. "Jesus, Leo... no!"

I feel him tear the dart out of my skin and I am laid back, I feel the touch of his finger to my throat, I feel a tear fall upon my face. I don't feel anything now...

I open my eyes, I'm lying on the ground. I stare up at that cold grey sky. I can't move, I can't breathe. But I do breathe, I do move... I struggle to my feet, the reaches of my mind swelling with pain. I will the pain away, it goes. I have regained my control. I focus around me at the bodies on the ground. The stench is greater now, and I am in the heart of it. The smell of rot and decay...

The stranger is there, he walks up to me from the inky stillness of an alley. He looks sad, lost, regretful. He didn't want to bring me here, he had hoped there would be another way. Perhaps he realized that there was none, as I had. But I still don't know why. I take a step forward. I had almost expected to be held back, like I had been in the dream. Not this time, now I move freely, striding atop the blood as one might tread upon the ice. He reaches my side and puts a hand on my shoulder, looking down around him at the people there and then back into my face with his ancient eyes.

"Will you tell me what has happened?" I ask him. Again, I hadn't expected my words to materialize, I thought they would be mouthed in the silence of the grave. The sound is flat, unreflected. A shock amid the deathly quiet.

"You and yours have died," he tells me sadly. He sounds like a grandfather explaining the fact of life's passing to a child of four. "I'm sorry that it has come to this."

"Come to what?" I ask. "You brought me here for a reason. Please, tell me what it is..."

He beckons me to walk with him and I do. We step around the lifelike bodies and half-decayed corpses, amble around the browned bones and piles of dust.

"My name is Charbel Makhlouf," he says. "I died over a century ago."

I motion to the bodies around me. "And you have not come to this?" I ask. "Is this truly what becomes us all when we leave the mortal frame?"

"This is one reality of many, one place that the mind holds for those who go on. Your other question is answered simply that I have been given the combined gift and curse of an immortal physical life."

"But you said you died."

"In a manner."

So, because your physical body remains you are able to carry on here?"

"I have watched the city grow, change. I've seen people arrive and looked into their pain-filled eyes and from time to time have been able to give some of myself to them so that they might live again."

I stop and grab him by the arm. "Wait! You mean that the dead here may return to life?"

He nods. "Yes."

"How?"

"Rest easy that there is a physical explanation, it has to do with the connection between mind and body and spirit. I cannot explain it to you now, nor will I have time to explain it at all."

"But... I want to know. I need to know..."

"You aren't meant to know."

I look at the blood at my feet. "Then why did you bring me here?"

He sighs a lifeless breath. "I can see out of this place, I can watch some. Some I can speak to - those who hold to them a certain state of mind."

"Me?"

"Yes, and to a certain extent your brothers."

"You saw them die before they did. You tried to warn me."

"Yes. But I failed."

I hang my head. "No, I failed. I failed them."

"The circumstances were beyond your control. Mine, as well. But that is why you are here now."

"What do you mean? You said I was dead."

"There are levels. In the level where you now stand there is still hope for you and your brothers."

"Tell me what I have to do!"

He turns and motions towards Donatello, his flesh has pulled away from his teeth and the blood no longer flows from his veins. But his eyes... still they stare. I kneel down beside him and reach out to touch, but my hand slides through him. I look up at Charbel and he lowers to his knees beside me.

"Please," I beg. "I'll do anything..."

He gives me a look that is between fear and hope. "I have given of myself many times, have taken the miracle path and sent those back that I could. But now I am weakened, I have only the smallest portion of my own life remaining. That last fragment I cannot give without becoming like those around me, unable to move - unable to carry on in this capacity.

He pauses, looking at my brother.

"But you," he continues. "You are able. You have the life in you for three. That chance to give a part of it to Donatello, a part to Raphael... and a part ot remain within yourself and pull you back to the world. If you choose."

"I do choose! Just tell me what I need to do!"

He looks to the sky. "Just touch them, just give it to them."

"How..? I don't understand what I must do..."

He takes my hand and puts it within the specter of Don's body. "Now," he says. "Just do it. Just give that part of yourself to him."

I do not understand, but I do as he says. I let a part of me flow from out myself, into what remains of my brother. God... I feel like a piece of my life has been torn away. I fall forward, onto Don. No... not onto him. He is no longer there. I crawl weakly to my knees and look at Charbel. He smiles down at me and gives me a hand to stand.

"Good," he says. "Now to the other."

He points behind me and I turn weakly. It is almost as if I were treading through a swamp - the resistance in the still air is so great. I look down at Raphael, who lies at the bottom of a stagnant water puddle. He stares blankly ahead, his skin is nearly white from the submersion. I step ahead with great effort and reach into the water. I put my hands upon Raphael, he is more solid to my touch than Don had been. I take a false breath and close my eyes, willing another part of me out. I feel him dissolve beneath my touch and I open my eyes. He's gone.

I laugh despite myself. I am so weak now... so very weak. I can barely move, but I turn to look at Charbel. He nods in approval.

"Now," he says, kneeling beside me. "Will yourself back to the world above."

I try, I feel myself lifting... but I stop. There is a wavering in my vision, a form silently appears before me. A small form, a tiny...

"A... child..?" I have to force the words out.

Charbel turns to the baby and touches it's head. "So young," he says as a tear leaves his eye. "I see... that he died in his sleep. Just now... this moment. His parents do not yet know..."

"...No..."

He turns to me and shakes his head. "You still have time to go back... there is still a chance for you. Leave... go before you are trapped within the Necropolis."

I can't. I see the child before me motionless as if he were peacefully sleeping. I can't return and leave him to this place, not when I can change it. Not when I can send him back to live a full life. I struggle to my knees and crawl to the baby. Charbel watches me, but he does not move to stop me.

"If you do this," he tells me. "Then you will not have the strength to return, yourself."

"I... I don't care...."

I pull the child into my arms weakly, hugging him to my body. I close my eyes and kiss the top of his head, then I let myself go. I release what remains of me into him. I open my eyes and watch him fade away. I smile before I fall back onto my shell. I can't move now... I can't breathe. I am not meant to. I am resigned to this end, I will stay here on this street forever, decaying here as my body does so on earth. I cannot blink, cannot move. I can feel, I can think... I can sense my body wasting away. I can see...

I feel myself being lifted up, Charbel turns my face to his and I can see the tears flowing down his cheeks. The tears turn red, oily... he holds me to his chest.

"You have shown a courage I lacked," he says to my lifeless hull. "You took that last step that I was afraid to take, myself. I can't leave you here... I take your place."

I feel a fullness in my chest, my spirit rising. I dissolve from out of Charbel's embrace...

I open my eyes. There is something above me, touching my face, covering my body. A sheet. I lift my hand weakly and take it off, sitting up on the table. I look around me, I'm back in the lab. Mike is sitting in the corner, his face buried in the hollows of his hands. He looks up.

"Leo..?" he leaps to his feet and runs to me, throwing his arms around my body. My living body.

"Jesus, Leo... I thought you were dead! I was... I was too late with the antidote... I thought I lost you!"

I swing my feet off the bed and stand on the floor, swaying back and forth. My body is coated with a sheen, a thin oil... I look into Mikes eyes and suddenly I remember everything.

"Raph... Don..." I say, breathing hard. "Where are they?"

"Mike puts his hands on my cheeks. "Leo... they died. Don't you remember..?"

"I... I remember..."

I run out of the lab, it is hard to do without falling. Mike follows after me. We get to the vaults that we had constructed for our brothers, I start to pound through the bricks around Don's, my fists turn bloody as the skin on my knuckles breaks. I burst through with one final blow and a cascade of red oil pours to the floor. I look within. Don lies silently still. But his throat is whole, there is no sign of slit, no remaining scar. I touch his arm and he draws in a breath, sitting up in the space and striking his head against the short ceiling.

Mike covers his mouth and his eyes start to flow. He breaks through the bricks on Raph's grave as I pull Don onto the floor. Donatello looks into my eyes and shudders. He wraps his arms around me... he remembers dying... he remembers that place... he remembers me being there...

Raphael lets out a scream as he is thrust back into life. Mike is holding him tightly. He won't let him go... he won't lose him again. We are all crying, all holding to one another. We were given back this life, given back a chance.

Don whispers, "thank you."

Raph crawls to my side and reaches out with a sickened hand, touching my own. "...Leo... what the hell happened to us? I remember being held under water and then I woke up somewhere... a place... there was somebody there and you..."

I wrap my hand over his shoulder and Mike joins us all in our embrace. We're together now, someday we will go apart again - but now...

I look above me. Charbel, he gave the last piece of himself to me. Gave me the remains of himself. I know that somewhere the child lives, that he will wake from what he thought was a dream...

I rub the center of my head and look at Don where he sleeps on his bed. I walk to his computer and sit down - I need to find something out. It has been weighing on my mind. Who was he... where had he come from? I turn on the computer and type in the name. I think I spelled it right. Don has set up his computer for the most thorough searches...

The screen flashes to life with a simple text, black letters on a stark white background. I read the words:

Soon after Charbel Makhlouf, a Maronite monk at the St. Maroun monastery at Annaya, Lebanon, was buried in 1898, strange lights were seen around his grave. He had been buried, like others of his order, without a coffin, and after the lights had been seen for several weeks his body was disinterred. Heavy rains had flooded the grave, but despite this the body was found to show no trace of decomposition. It was washed, dressed in new clothes, and placed in a wooden coffin in the monastery chapel. Before long a strange oily liquid was noticed suffusing the body. It smelled of blood and seemed to be a mixture of blood and sweat, but whatever it was, it seeped through the skin in such quantities that the body's clothing had to be changed twice a week. Strips of the saturated cloth were said to have remarkable healing properties.

Twenty-nine years after Charbel's death, his body was examined by doctors and pronounced free from corruption. Their report, together with the testimony of other eyewitnesses, was sealed in a zinc tube and placed with the body in a wood-lined zinc coffin, which was then placed in the monestery wall and bricked over. That was in 1927.

In 1950 pilgrims noticed that a curious liquid was seeping through the wall in front of the coffin. The tomb was broken open, the coffin removed, and again in the presence of ecclesiastical and medical authorities, opened for examination of the body.

By every appearance Charbel might have been merely asleep. His clothing was partly rotted and was soaked in the oily fluid, much of which had congealed inside the coffin. The zinc tube containing the evidence of the previous examination was badly corroded.

Since 1950 the body has been examined and the oily exudation, which had accumulated to a depth of about three inches, has been removed from the coffin for curative dispensation. Charbel Makhlouf was canonized in 1977.

I sit back from the computer and look behind me at my brother as he sleeps peacefully. I stand and walk out the door, into the kitchen. Mike is at the corner, chopping a daikon.

"Mike?"

He jumps and I hear him yell. He looks at his hand where he just cut himself with the knife. I walk forward, looking at the blood coating his hand. Something...

I pick up the knife and pull it across my own palm.

"What are you doing?" Mike asks, shocked.

I don't know. I look at my palm as it bleeds. But the bleeding stops, the oil begins to flow. We watch as the skin on my hand reforms itself, healing before our eyes. He draws in a quick breath and looks at me. I smile and press my oil-coated hand to his wound. Seconds later I take it away, we look at his hand. The wound is gone.

"How..?" he stutters. "Leo... how did you do that?"

I smile again and look at the slick liquid as it absorbs back into my skin. "I don't know," I admit.

Yes, I do know...

A gift... one that I'll have forever. Charbel gave to me that last part of him - that incorruptibility. His gift - the life and the health of me and mine. As long as I remain by my brothers, as long as I can reach out to them when they are in need - as long as this ointment flows through my veins...

We will live on.

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