Excerpt:
Jewel is humming
an 80’s hair metal song to herself as she crosses the last street of the day
and steps onto the sidewalk on her block. It’s a song that never gets old;
however, where she has heard it recently enough to cause it to ear worm into
her consciousness, she does not know. It has been a pleasant walk home. She
notices no demons on her way, and if present, none challenge her.
She notices her stalker
walking toward her and makes no effort to escape.
Whatever, she thinks.
He’s not ruining my day.
When he reaches
her, he spins and then walks beside her.
“You sound
pretty full of yourself right now,” he says evenly. She detects a hint of
displeasure in his voice. “I would not have pegged you for a Whitesnake fan.”
She merely
shrugs.
“What’s the
problem?” she asks. “It’s been a good day. Don’t try to ruin it.”
“Yes, I will be
sad to do so. It has been a long time since you have been this giddy.”
“Giddy?” she
repeats. “I have never been giddy.”
He makes a sound
that she doesn’t immediately discern. It is something between a laugh and a
grunt. “I will grant you that it is rare, but it has happened.”
Jewel lets it go.
They are halfway
down the block now and neither speak for quite a while.
“You must
realize that this is not a game,” he says, finally. It isn’t a question.
Jewel sighs. “I should have snuck down the alley,” she says.
“You already
tried that tactic.”
“So, what do you
want from me?”
“You have nothing
that I need,” he replies.
“Okay, what am I
supposed to do?”
“For one, you
can stop poking them.”
“Poking who?”
“You know who,
Julie,” he answers. “Leave them be.”
Jewel stops
walking. They are near the foot of her driveway now. She turns and faces him.
“How can I do that?” she asks. “They’re evil. They put thoughts in your head
that aren’t yours. They lie, cheat and steal. Mine told me the vilest things.
All this time I thought it was me…”
“I know that.”
She stops. “See!
That just pisses me off! They put horrible things into your head, and you know
all about it. Who are you?”
“You already
know…”
“Don’t tell me
that!” she snaps. “Just don’t! I want you to spell it out for me.”
He stands and
simply looks at her.
“Sonofabitch!”
she shouts. “So, you’re a guardian angel or something?”
He nods.
“Can’t you even
say it?” she asks and throws up her hands
“Yes, I can. I
am your guardian angel. Does that help?”
“No, it doesn’t
help,” she replies, still smoldering. “That only begs further questions.”
“Fine,” he says.
“Ask away.”
She glances
about the neighborhood as she contemplates what to ask.
“So, no one can
see you?” she asks finally. It is the first thought that occurs to her in the
heat of the moment. “Anyone looking this way right now sees a crazy girl alone,
throwing a fit on the sidewalk?”
“Only when I
allow it. When they do, they see only a man.”
“Then do it
now,” she says. “I’m tired of feeling crazy. I’ve lived a lifetime of that.”
“As you wish.”
“Do you have a
name? Of course you do. What is it?”
“I am afraid I
cannot tell you that.”
Jewel appears
startled, as if slapped. “Excuse me?”
“I have a name,
yes. But it is nothing you could pronounce.”
“Try me,” she
says, but he quickly holds up his hands as if to calm her.
“Please do not
misunderstand. When we are named… All of us, humans, angelic beings, otherwise,
it is by others who are masters or parents. There is ownership implied. Mine
has given me a name because he is my master.”
“God, huh?”
Jewel says. “So, you’re a religious nut.”
“The very first
kind,” he answers evenly.
She shakes her head.
“So, what do I call you?”
“I have hope
that whenever you call me it will be friend.”
“Isn’t that a
song?”
“Yes, Kenny
Loggins and Melissa Manchester wrote it.”
“It’s a very old
song.”
“I promise you I
am far older.”
“How come you
know so much about music?”
“I spend quite a
lot of time waiting. I amuse myself with music.”
“Who’s your
favorite?”
“Would you
believe the Mormon Tabernacle Choir?”
She frowns.
“They are quite
good, you know.”
“Try again?”
“The Gregorian
Monks.”
“Who? Seriously?
Chanting? I don’t believe you.”
“I appreciate
much, but once you have heard music in heaven there is really nothing else.
Perhaps Zeppelin.”
“Get out of
here,” she says, exasperated, and heads for her house.
He makes no move
to follow.
When she reaches
the ninety-degree angle at the walkway that leads to her door, she stops and
looks back. “Are you seriously just going to stay out here forever?”
His face grows
serious. “That is up to you.”
“How so?”
“You have seen
demons with your own eyes, and now you know you have a guardian angel, and have
had one since birth.”
“Do I know
that?” she asks. “Sure, I have you to vouch for that, but all I have is what
you’ve told me. And you really haven’t told me much.”
“In any event,”
he continues. “What does that tell you?”
“About what,
mysterious stranger?” she asks. “What does it tell me? It doesn’t tell me
anything.”
“When you are
ready, I will be here.”
“Ready for
what?”
“I will be
here,” he repeats. “But, please, leave them be.”
“Why should I?”
she asks and holds out her hands.
He pauses, as if
measuring his words. “Because they will soon poke back.”
