|“Are you sure about this?” Bill strained against the stone, pressing with his back, putting his legs into the effort. His stubby wings got in the way.
“Certain,” said Harold. “It was on the work docket. I figured after the Garden incident, we should take initiative.”
“You didn’t mistake the cherub docket and the cherubim docket again, did you?” On paper, fat little putti-cherubs were always being mistaken for ferocious, four-winged cherubim.
“Nope. I’m sure,” said Harold.
With a grunt, the stone moved an inch more.
“Why are we supposed to be opening this tomb anyway?” Bill couldn’t see Harold shrug.
“Heave!” Harold gasped.
The tombstone rolled, and Bill and Harold tumbled into the tomb. Bill’s sense of accomplishment was diminished only slightly when he saw that The Man inside the tomb had been the helping hand. Bill recognized him immediately.
“Oh, sir! I didn’t realize–!”
The Man smiled, kindly but quizzically.
With the word, the earth outside the tomb shook. Bill peaked around the stone and there was Adair, bellowing, all four of his wings arrogantly shedding. Beyond Adair’s radiance, two women and one of The Man’s scribes fled when they saw the stone rolled away.
“You two!” The cherubim kept his voice to a dull roar. “My earthquake was supposed to–” Adair fell silent when The Man stepped past Bill and Harold.
“Sir!” Adair stammered. “I didn’t realize–!”
The Man smiled again, shrugged, and disappeared in glory.