[New Voices] A Case of Missing Wings
You'd think that after a couple of thousand years of wearing them, I'd be able to find my angel wings when I wanted. But when I woke up this morning to go to work...
by S. H. Marpel & J. R. Kruze
You'd think that after a couple of thousand years of wearing them, I'd be able to find my angel wings when I wanted.
Pretty hard to misplace, if you think about it at all.
But when I woke up to go to work this morning, they weren't there. Not in my closet, not hanging on the bedpost, and certainly not on my shoulders where they always had been.
Sure, I was always able to appear to humans without them. But just because they couldn't see them, didn't mean they were gone.
Of course, that wasn't the bad part. Along with the wings, I'd lost all my "magic" powers. So I was basically stuck on earth like any other human.
But, no, I wasn't going to test whether I was still basically immortal. I'm not stupid, even if maybe forgetful.
And there was something important I was supposed to remember. Something about saving the world – but of course, this was lost to me right now – too...
I
When I woke up, they weren't there.
Not on my shoulders where they usually hung. Yes, they were attached when I fell asleep. No, I didn't take anything, didn't "tie one on."
Checked the free-standing oak wardrobe. Nothing. Hall closet. Nothing. Not hanging around anywhere in the apartment.
You'd think after a couple thousand years, I'd be pretty attached to them.
So I just...
Or...
No, I can't. That's gone, too.
All my powers. Gone with the wings. (Well, at least I still have my warped sense of humor.)
OK, then.
Time for Plan B.
- - - -
Six long blocks of walking in L. A.'s heated grime finally got me to the emergency outlet.
It was a pawn shop. On Santa Monica Boulevard – Hollywood end. One shop out of many – and that was the point. Kept it non-distinctive. This one had a particular red English phone box, a fixture in the place. Had an American coin-phone in it, though. A special one.
"Hey Bert!"
The cashier looked up from his racing form. "Angie! Long time. What's up?"
"Just needed to take a visit to old Ben. Got a token for me?"
Bert hit a key on the register and the cash drawer slid out with a ring of its bell. He reached into a back drawer of it and pulled out an odd coin. One with notches in its center, like an ancient subway token.
I held up my hand and he flipped it to me.
"Thanks."
Then I entered the phone box, closed its door, inserted the token, and dialed.
The small booth filled with a red smoke substance, about the same color as the phone box.
While I shimmered from there to somewhere else.
II
Sal, Jude, and I all phased in, to find Angie sitting in one of the mission-style padded end chairs in the Library. By the smile on her face, she was enjoying whatever drink she held in that mug. It smelled of chocolate when we entered.
Angie stood, as both Sal and Jude rushed over to hug her. I stayed back from this scene, not wanting to interrupt, and also waiting for at least casual introductions. The girls were nearly giggling as they teased each other.
While Sal had her blond hair up in business-type bun, with two ivory hair pins through it, Jude left her long nearly black hair down over her shoulders, as did Angie. But while Sal was in her usual off-white suit, and Jude was in her typical black leathers, Angie was wearing a long dark blue shawl – which highlighted her own thick and wavy long blond hair. The contrast was arresting – and left me stock still. She extracted herself from my spirit guides and came toward me. Her shawl fell open to reveal what looked to be a one-piece knit mini dress of light blue, that accented her dark blue eyes – which I immediately got myself lost in.
"I'm Angie, you have to be John." She smiled with one of those Helen of Troy looks – the one that launched a thousand ships (as that old story goes.)
Yes, I was smitten. And only managed to clumsily shake her hand while my mouth could hardly form, "Glad... to... meet you."
Now that hadn't happened for awhile.
Jude and Sal were both smiling like they had pulled another joke on me, especially as they looked to each other. Someone had won a bet out of this, but I couldn't tell which.
Those two maneuvered around Angie and the long, low center coffee table, winding up on each side of me. Then pulled me down to sit on the matching couch, almost falling into the dark brown leather cushions.
At least some things never changed. These two always looked out for me, even when I lost my senses.
And the chocolate smell got louder in my nose, especially as Sal poured all of us some and Jude shoved a mug into my hands. That – along with the sudden sitting – forced me to take my eyes off Angie.
We all sat and sipped for awhile, enjoying Granger's incredible spiced chocolate drink. Like having a bit of heaven, underground – or wherever this Library actually was.
"They tell me you're an angel." I finally broke the quiet.
Angie looked up with a frown wrinkling her forehead. "That's in dispute right now. Because it seems I've lost everything that makes me one."
"Lost?"
"Well, I woke up and my wings were gone, along with all the normal magic I'm able to do. Lucky I wasn't too far from a portal to get here. All-in-all, the walk wasn't too difficult. And L. A. in the early morning is more innocent than trying to walk that far at night." At that she crossed her long legs, and I noticed the black flats with modest heels she wore. Sensible, sturdy, built for walking.
Sal cleared her throat. Jude nudged me with her elbow, without taking both hands from her warm mug.
I looked back at Angie's face to form my next question. "What clues do you have? Any signs of theft – or is this more mystical?"
Angie looked off in the distance. "I searched through my whole apartment. The doors and windows were locked as usual, though I've never had a break-in. Nothing was out of place, nothing moved. All I knew is that I went to sleep with them tucked in behind me, and woke to find them gone."
I knew some about wings from dealing with Harpy and her long black ones that she could hide into small slits in her tailored jacket. "Meaning you could make them tiny behind your back?"
Angie smiled at remembering that talent. "Not enough to wear a backless gown, but a shawl like this – well..." Angie stood at that, a smooth motion that put her own mug on the coffee table. Then turned to drop her dark blue shawl off her shoulders. Her short one-piece dress had thin straps that came across those pristine shoulders and down her back to a bow at her waist.
Her back itself had two long, pink vertical marks on them, where wings would normally attach to her shoulders. Angie's shoulders were those of an athlete, not a model's, which started to explain the attraction she held. Her muscles were well formed and defined. A thin waist and trim hips pointed to an energetic life of action.
"I see." Was all I could manage to say.
And at that Angie pulled her shawl back up, glided back down into her seat, crossed her ankles, and picked up her mug again. The taste brought another contented smile to her face.
I sipped my own, marveling at the cinnamon and nutmeg combination. Yes, it made me smile as well. "So we're to find your missing wings, I take it."
Angie's face went serious at this. "Bluntly, yes. They mean a lot to me, although more than I have taken time to think about up to now." She crossed her legs and leaned forward, arms across the upper leg, mug in one hand, inches from her nose. Her eyes reddened at their edges and became misty as she looked off.
Sal and Jude both looked at me, with the thought of "do something."
I had an idea. "Angie, with the limited amount of data to hand, I have a proposal for you. Of course, Jude and Sal are going to have to help out, but we've done something like this before."
I paused to sip, and managed to swallow one of those tiny half-melted marshmallows that were floating in my chocolate. All the three young women were looking at me, waiting.
"I don't suppose you can take some vacation time away from your other Angel duties?"
"Not like I have any choice. For all practical purposes, I'm just another human. Any mission I can't finish, any message I can't deliver. Heck, I had to walk to get here." A frown came across her face at remembering the gritty walk this morning.
"Well, OK then. My farm is your farm, to torture a phrase. I'm going to have to hear more about your whole back story to sort this out, and there's nothing like being immersed in Nature to let the world bring out the best in you – and the answers we are all looking for.
"First, Sal is taking you shopping. Jude will be helping me get things ready at the farm." I stood, setting down my mug of chocolate as I did. The three ladies followed suit.
Sal was closest to Angie. They held hands and vanished. Jude took my hand, giving it a little squeeze. Then she kissed my cheek as we ourselves shimmered away...
III
Sal was the perfect hostess. Of course, we made a trip to Rodeo Drive for some esteem-building necessities (of course, just to embarrass John if he ever got an inadvertent peak of the soft, feminine lace and frills) and then we made a curious stop at a farm supply store a couple of states away for jeans, boots, heavy socks, and t shirts.
When we at last arrived at John's farm, we each had one hand and arm full of packages, as the other was in use for 'porting.
Sal seemed as surprised as I was about how John's farm looked.
There were three tiny-home cabins, each with their own trailer wheels and sitting side by side, a few feet apart. Two seemed newer. And a porch linked them all together on their east fronts, with two chairs by every front door. Tidy, neat, and minimalist-functional.
Jude and John were standing there as we shimmered in. Wide smiles on their faces at what they'd accomplished.
Jude came over to help me with my packages. "Your cabin is on this end of the row. We can put your stuff there. I think I got your colors right, but we can swap them out. You go talk to John and we'll put everything away where you can find them."
As Sal and Jude walked over and onto the porch, the screen door outside swung open on its own and stayed, while the inner heavy door did likewise. I could hear all the windows swoosh up just after the girls walked through and the screen door quietly closed after them.
John came over, and gestured toward the porch chairs in front of the center cabin, taking my elbow to help me balance on the gravel walk. He was wearing his well-broken-in work boots, but I still had my L. A. street flats, which weren't as steady on uneven ground compared to walking flat concrete and rolled asphalt.
We both settled into a pair of sturdy wood deck chairs, with durable tufted canvas-covered pads on their bottoms.
"My cabin is the original, and is on the other end of this row. This center cabin is for us to discuss and do our research. Your's is almost a duplicate of mine, although I imagine Jude and Sal have changed the colors and curtains more to your liking."
"John, I just want to thank you right off for all this. The last thing I wanted to do was to change your lifestyle just to fit mine."
He just smiled. "Sal and Jude have long been busy changing my lifestyle without a moment's notice. After my last visitor came falling into my life, I have been thinking the farm needed some more cabins on it. Just for visitors."
"And what research do you think we'll need to do?"
John looked off across the two gravel strips of driveway that struggled between the grass up the hill to his cabin. "I don't know at this point. We'll get into it soon enough."
Sal and Jude came out of my cabin at that, with smiles on their faces. They stepped onto the long porch and walked down toward us.
Sal spoke first, just as excited as Jude. "We think we got it just right for you. John asked for a simple duplicate of his, but of course, we had to make it fit your far more feminine side..."
Jude piped in, "...and not quite so ruggedly rustic as John prefers to keep his. Not that we don't like his cozy way of living, but overnight visits aren't the same as having a home away from home. Anyway, we think you'll like the change from that upstairs apartment you had."
Sal continued. "The air around here is much cleaner, even when the cows have to graze close by. Oh, and there's his dog Bertie around here somewhere, and some barn cats. Then he's got chickens over by that old barn as well. Plenty to see and do here, other than just talking to John."
Jude grinned, "Along with other activities."
Sal elbowed her, an obvious nudge to all of us. Jude kept grinning, all part of her joke.
I rose, and John followed suit.
"Oh, we weren't going to hang around, even though we could whip up a great meal for all of us to sit down and enjoy. We'll just be in the way. But we did leave a dinner for just you two..." At that, several quiet thumps happened inside and aromas came wafting out. "A little Tex-mex for you both to enjoy."
"Do have fun. Oh, this is for you." Sal came forward with a turquoise stone on a thin, braided loop. She tied it around my neck loosely, so it hung down my front, a little below the collarbone and above my bust.
"Just touch that and think of either of us. If you need us to come, we will, otherwise, we can just 'talk' with you if you only want to gab."
They both came over and gave me a peck on my cheek, then kissed John as well. Jude took a little longer than Sal, who seemed caught between being embarrassed and upset at her sister – but she had lived with Jude since before they were spirits, so took her teasing with a good-natured patience.
I then hugged them both again as thanks.
Each of the two spirit-guides then made a little gesture and shimmered out.
The day had turned a bit cloudy, in high horse-tails above lower lines of clouds that seemed like crop rows. The higher clouds were beginning to redden in advance of the coming sunset.
John kept quiet as I was watching the sky and listening to the birds sing.
"Well, I guess we ought to dig into that meal before it gets cold," he said at last.
I looked at his kind face and began to understand why Sal and Jude thought so much of him.
He opened and held the screen door for me. And I could see that the girls had left candles as well as the soft wall lights glowing for us. Not that it was supposed to be romantic, but just comforting.
Something I could use after the day I'd had.
I entered and John followed. Always a gentleman, Sal had told me. Jude had managed to sneak a few other ideas into my mind, but neither John or I was interested in much more than light talk and a good meal.
And if the taste was as good as the smell, I was looking forward to a great dinner while listening to John's engaging stories.
IV
I looked up from the last fence move, just as I hooked up the polywire to be hot again, and saw Bertie grinning, tail-wagging, and trotting along down the cow path with Angie coming behind.
She'd pulled her gorgeous blond hair back loosely behind her shoulders, not tight enough to be called a pony tail, but secure enough to stay there and not get caught on brambles or low tree branches.
Otherwise, she was wearing a new red pocket t-shirt, stone-washed dungarees, with some comfortable-looking soft-leather boots. And a wide smile.
Last night, I told her to go on and get settled in her cabin, while I took all the dishes into my cabin to clean. Her light was out before I finished drying them, two cabins away.
And I was careful to be quiet when I got up, skipping the noise of breakfast to go ahead and move the cows. Today we were a couple of pastures down hill from our cabins. But Bertie knew the way, and could smell where I'd gone, regardless. Leading Angie over to me was a joy for both of them.
But that's why I like this "day job". Didn't take much time, but had rewards beyond measure, even in winter with the sometimes bitter cold, and also on rainy days. It was all Nature, all the time. And you can't beat Nature for calm inspiration. (Even though my adventures with Jude and Sal gave me more than enough to write about.)
"How's your morning going?" I asked her.
"Great, just great. I had a trail bar on the way down. Bertie was at my door this morning, and seemed anxious to bring me to you. Both Jude and Sal were telling me about your wholesome breakfast cooking, and you can show me how you do all that on one burner, later."
I smiled at this. A lot to live to up already. Reputations are funny things, they grow larger than life, often ahead of your own travels.
"Well, your timing is pretty good. I just finished giving the cows their own breakfast. And they seem to be enjoying it."
Angie admired the cattle along with me. Of course, we were standing in some shade, so we could take our time admiring.
"You'll have to explain how that works at some point. Cattle isn't something I know much about."
"Most people don't, even those who raised them all their lives. There's a wide world between just having a few cows around and actually working with them to rebuild the soil and more than cover your costs.
"But that is a big subject. And I can fill you in on the basics as we find time. There are long pasture walks just to get here and back right now – plenty of time for talking. But today's walking-back talk is all about you – from wherever you want to start."
Angie began by telling me about Angels. Just the basics. I'd looked a bit up online last night, and she filled me in on some questions I'd had. Nothing like being there and doing that to give you a personal understanding of how things worked.
"Mostly, I've been kept busy with missions to do, and messages to get delivered, too many to have time for much else. Lately, though, I've had enough time in between that I got myself an apartment for the waiting I needed to do. It was just a few blocks from the local library and close to restaurants and deli's. And I think that is where the problem started."
"How so? Deli meat shouldn't have caused your wings problem. It's inspected five ways to Sunday."
Angie smiled at the joke. "No, it was because I was getting more fascinated with the human problem. And I'd spend hours with my wings tucked away, just passing for human and having conversations with anyone I could. Also, the popular magazines are a wealth of what passes for conventional wisdom about what people think their supposed to be interested in."
I shook my head at this, but with a smile. And Angie put her hand on my shoulder.
"That's what I think. The Enquirer and other tabloids, as well as the cashier rack magazines don't often agree on a lot of things, but the between them all I started to figure out what was most important to humans. And to test these ideas, I got a volunteer job working at a local charity store so I could talk with people that came in and see what they thought of these subjects. It turned out that the stuff I was reading made good starting conversation, but when you asked them if it was useful, they all said no. Then they'd talk about their own lives and their problems."
She got silent at this, and dropped her hand back down to her side. I looked over and saw a little worry-frown on her down-turned face.
She stopped to pet my dog, who had paused in front of her to block her move. Between Bertie's grin and tail wagging, Angie's face softened again
"Bertie's good at that. Cheering people up, humans and angels both, it seems."
Angie looked up at me and grinned. "Between Bertie and your casual humor, I might not wind up missing those wings so much. Well, for a little while, anyway."
"Maybe someone thought you needed more of a vacation." I suggested.
"Maybe. Or else I was just that close to moving over to the 'fallen' category. Like this was a chance to figure what I really wanted out of life."
"Or an eternal life?"
"Yeah, a 'life-time' is a human problem, isn't it. Life itself continues regardless. Us angels are somewhere in between the big Creator and the insects with their tiny lifespans. Did you know that angels used to last only as long as that one mission or message?"
"I read something about that, but most of the writings about angels are pretty widespread in their descriptions."
"That's mostly because it's a mix of necessary fiction and inspirational themes. Corporate churches have gotten into this, as well as well-meaning scholars and writers."
"Fiction?" That perked my interest.
"Sure. Look over the stories about angels and how they changed over time. Early on, angels would fight in battles – back when the quality of life was tough and short. Later, angels became more supportive and gauzy. Like exchanging their swords and armor for 'attaboys' and 'why-doncha's'. The easier life got, the fewer angels appeared, it seemed. Actually, angels would sometimes assume human form and simply give hints, advice, or a good example when it was needed."
By then, we were nearly up to the cabins again. "Why not come over for breakfast, and I'll show you how to cook farm-fresh eggs with whole milk, cottage cheese, and buckwheat flour for an omelet pan-bread that will keep you filled till mid-afternoon. And don't forget the home-made jam and jelly."
Angie smile widened at that idea, just as we arrived at my front door for our first real meal of the day.
V
I helped John clean up the dishes and put them away, even though it was cramped in that tiny one-room cabin. Of course, it didn't seem either of us minded bumping into each other. I started to understand why Sal and Jude would hang on him so much. He didn't have space problems like most humans, he'd just include you so easily in whatever he was doing.
After that, I went to get my own laptop and meet him in the central cabin in between. Jude had made up the two end cabins almost like each other, so I got a lap-top like John's. Of course, mine was a rose-pink, while his was a dark charcoal. (Like my window curtains were lace edged and his ended in a straight, no-nonsense seamed edge.)
In that middle cabin was a narrow central table flanked on each side by a pair of ladder-backed chairs with woven rush seats. Shelves with trade-sized books ran from just above head-height on up, meaning they actually were built into the ceiling and had a small edge in front to keep them from sliding off.
At the end of the cabin was a futon couch and a couple of folding solid wood end tables, about coffee table height, but light enough to move with your feet if they got in the way. Meanwhile wide enough to hold quite a few books, or some socked feet, or a mixture of both.
This was our research nook. I wasn't familiar with a lot of the titles up there on the shelves. Some I'd heard of. A lot were in paperback, but a few hardbacks were there as well.
"I had Jude bring us a set that Ben recommended as probably useful." John gestured widely while he was setting up my computer for his wi-fi.
I appreciated the long expanse of books there. He could reach to the top shelf, but I'd need to stand on a chair. No biggy.
What I saw in reading the titles were a few really archaic books on angels and religious stories. And some Joseph Murphy, Ernest Holmes books, as well as other New Thought authors I'd heard of (or worked with personally, like Nap Hill) but seldom had taken the time to read their books.
"So, John, where do we start? Alphabetically?"
He smiled. "I wish it was that simple. You're going to choose where we start, but it has to do with what you most want to find – or find out." John turned my laptop around to face me. And I sat down next to him.
"Ooh – four bars. That's good, right?"
He just smiled and opened up his own.
"This is just for online research, what the books can't tell us. Or probably which of these books we should start with. But even there, it's still the same catch. You have to ask what you want to find most. Otherwise, you'd search around forever. The Internet is a huge place and just keeps growing every nano-second. And even for you, trying to keep up with exploring all that would get tedious after awhile. Maybe a long while, longer than I have.
"So the short cut is again: What do you most want to find – or find out?"
I closed my laptop and set back. The ladder-back chair was firm, but reassuring, somehow. Solid. Real. And I got the idea that it was possible to find my wings. Up to me, now.
Where do I begin?
VI
She sat there for quite awhile. Just thinking.
Minutes passed like hours. And I didn't want to get into projects of my own, as we both needed to concentrate on what she was wanting to find.
In a room that had all the answers, created just for her, but wouldn't tell her how to get started.
We both sat there in the quiet for a long while.
Then I had an idea to help her. Nature was a great source of inspiration. I often had my breakthroughs in writing or sorting something out just in walks.
And it was close to time to check the cattle again, anyway.
"OK, Angie. Let's take a break. Come on and take a walk with me."
She looked up, relieved. The frown on her forehead eased a bit and a slight smile showed. "That's probably a good idea. I could use a walk."
- - - -
Bertie came with us, of course. I didn't even have to whistle her up, as she'd been waiting for us. She had a spot under my own cabin that was cool in summer and out of the wind in winter. And while she came inside during storms and the worst cold, she still preferred to be outside. And could hear me walk toward the door.
When we took off down the cow path to where the cattle were today, Bertie came grinning and tail-wagging along. And petting her put a new smile on Angie's face, eased those worry lines some.
We walked for a bit in the quiet, and let the concerns drop away. Birds were calling, squirrels scolding us from their tree perches above. Cicadas and other insects fiddled their wings into their own chorus.
At last, Angie spoke up.
"I think there's a good connection between what I told you and what you said. I was getting more curious about the human condition – what was I doing this for, what did these short-lived people get out of my help. And then my assignments got fewer. So much that I got that apartment and that part-time job. I didn't hound Central to give me another job, or sit around the waiting room up there. I got busy checking into the human scene.
"The more I checked, the more questions it raised. And like I told you this morning, that 'fallen' category started looming."
"Becoming a 'fallen angel' is a big thing, then?"
"Sure. It's the worst possible scene, or that's what we were told. Angels have duties: places to go, things to see, people to meet. All assigned from Central. Go out, do your job, report back, help analyze the results. Rinse. Repeat.
"Me having time to spend on Earth doing anything else was an anomaly. But the funny thing is, nobody seemed to care. The waiting room was always full of angels wanting something to do. While there were regular departures and arrivals all the time. Busy place.
"It was like they didn't notice I was missing. I'd check in from time to time, but there weren't any messages or assignments, so I'd simply go back into my human studies. Until my wings and powers went missing. I took that as a sign that I'd gone a bit too far out on this path. But without those wings and powers, I can't get back to Central. I'm cut off."
Angie stopped and put both hands to her face, covering her eyes, while small, quiet sobs started shuddering her frame.
So I did the normal human thing – I put my arm around her shoulders and held her close to me.
When I did, the pasture around us shimmered into nothing...
VII
Phasing into the desert heat was a shock.
I raised my head from my hands and looked around, then up at John's face. "Where are we?"
John looked over to his right and sighed. "Well, I've been here before. But didn't expect anything like this. And I have no clue who moved us from there to here."
We were outside an old wood-framed building, with a Western false front. "Ham & Chaz – Sandwiches, etc." was painted on it's front. "You know this place?"
John smiled at me. "Sure. I was here for awhile after an adventure, writing all the stories they could tell me. Let's go see who's here today – whatever today is in their time-line."
I was about to ask him what he meant by that, when the screen door pushed open, and a red-haired young woman held it there. Medium height, her long hair flowed across her back, over a flowered Western-cut blouse tucked into blue jeans. Moc-toed slip-on's over her bare feet. Her front was protected by a flower-print apron, covered with splatters of flour.
"John! What a surprise! I thought I felt a visitor coming, but I had no idea that it would be you. Come on in with your guest. Get out of this heat. I've got some fresh cookies out of the oven and some lemonade – unless you want some iced coffee..."
As John and I climbed the few steps onto her shaded porch, she backed up until John held the door for me to enter first.
"Hami, this is Angie. She came to me to solve a problem, but somehow we wound up here."
Hami just smiled. "Oh, well, I guess it's time for some more of your training. 'When the student is ready, the teacher appears...' goes the phrase, but in this case, you came on your own. Oh, I'm just blabbering. You two pull up a chair and take a load off. I'll be back with those cookies. Sounds like iced coffee is your choice, then." With that she turned and in a few steps had glided back into her kitchen behind the long bar.
John gestured to the closest of many round tables and we each settled into one of the bentwood "caboose" chairs near it. I looked around and saw it was just too much like many of the Old West movies, but brought into the modern day. Instead of beers and whiskey bottles, there were homemade jams and sauces on the shelves. And framed inspirational quotes, as well as pictures of local residents and apparently their relatives lined the walls instead of neon signs advertising drinks. A family place now, regardless of its history.
"A mystery on top of a mystery. You have yours and now I have my own." John had a few furrows in his own brow to match mine.
Hami then glided back out with a platter that held a tall plate of steaming cookies, napkins, and four tumblers of iced coffee.
She sat the platter down, and handed us each a tumbler, setting her own and then the fourth out, each at another setting. Moving the cookie plate off, Hami set the platter on a nearby table, then smoothly slid into her own chair.
"Dig in – those chocolate and butterscotch chips might be a bit hot, but you can't beat fresh cookies when they are soft. They're my own version of toll house, John's favorite."
And the taste of them relaxed our faces, but also kept us from asking more questions. I was curious about the fourth setting...
The screen door opened and seemed to answer that.
A tall white-blond beauty, dressed in a tan buckskin Amerindian native dress came in. With the smooth pace of a wolf, and more grace than a runway model. She waved to Hami and the both of us, giving a big smile to all.
Hami spoke first. "Betty, you remember John? And this is Angie.”
Angie and I nodded to Betty, both caught with our mouths still full from our delicious cookies.
Betty slid into her own seat and patted Hami's hand while she picked up her own iced coffee and sipped it as she selected a cookie with her other hand.
"OK, Hami, this is getting more weird by the minute. Not that I don't appreciate your cooking and seeing both of you again, but please explain how I got here and your point about the 'student and teacher' if you would."
Hami looked at Betty and they shared a smile.
"Well, you were the one who came to us. All we got was our own moment's notice you were coming. I only had time to open the door to welcome you. And was glad enough that I'd just gotten those cookies out of the oven and onto cooling. Your timing, as usual, couldn't be better."
VIII
"I came to you?" John's brow wrinkled again at this new puzzle. "How does that work?"
Betty spoke first. "Of course, you'll get better with practice. Anytime you need some healing, you've got a built-in beacon to 'come home' as it were. You didn't know this, but that's part of the deal. Part of the treatments Rochelle and Hami gave you."
Hami asked, "So what is bothering you? It shouldn't take long to fix."
"That's just the point, nothing is. I'm just fine."
Hami took John's hand and looked at it. Turned it over and looked again. She closed her eyes for a second. "You're right. Good as rain. Need more exercise, though. Too much looking at computer screens – but that's no different than when you came the first time. How about your guest?"
Betty asked me, "May I?" and looked at my own hand.
I extended it to her, and she looked it over, both sides, then closed her eyes briefly and opened them again. It was her turn to be puzzled. She looked at Hami, who then also frowned slightly – but then smiled at John.
"Well, it's more like I said, not like I thought. You've come to teach us a lesson."
John's mouth fell open, but then he started figuring things out again. "Oh, this is my bringing Angie to you two. I'd heard before that you didn't have much experience with spirit-types. You see, Angie is really an angel and came to me with the problem of her missing wings. I don't know if it's a healing point, but it might be."
I had to butt in at this point. "Wait, what is all this about? You're going to need to fill me in a bit. I came to solve a theft, not become a patient for student-nurses to practice on."
John had to stifle a laugh and grinned instead. "OK, you're right. Let me see if I can boil this down a bit. Hami and Betty are more natural phenomenons than human. Elementals is another word, but by choice. They were each born human, but were transformed by treatments to basically become immortal – as far as we know – and help others heal through what they know about transmuting the elements into other forms."
Betty nodded. "While our history is a sordid one, the origin was when some terrorists uncovered an ancient deposit of virus that tended to kill people. They incorporated this into a dirty bomb and tried to 'blow up' a hospital as a suicide effort. And they managed to kill everyone there except the newborns. I was one of these. When we grew old enough, we escaped the government 'quarantine' and started traveling. Sadly, we tended to kill any human we came in contact with. Except babies. Hami is a fourth-generation of this process. And helped me learn how to master my abilities to heal instead of destroy."
"I still don't see what this has to do with my missing wings."
Betty looked me over again. She still held my hand. "May I touch your back?"
I nodded.
She rose out of her chair and came behind me. I leaned forward over the table as she traced the thin lines underneath the t shirt I was wearing. Then came back and sat down.
I then straightened up and took another sip while Betty took Hami's hand and looked into her eyes.
They both turned back to us and Hami spoke. "Physically, there's not much to do. You can have your wings back anytime you want them. The trick is that you really have to want them."
John had a wry grin. "Not like the old joke about how many psychiatrists it takes to change a light bulb?"
Hami rolled her eyes at that. "...just one, but the light bulb really has to want to change."
John grinned. Even Betty got that joke. Just like John to make things less serious.
"So that brings us back to the same scene. I don't know why my wings disappeared or how, but it's up to me to figure it out." I was frowning heavily now. This was just as bad as being in John's mini-library cabin.
Betty spoke up. "I don't think this is anywhere nearly as serious as you make it out to be. This is no worse than John having a case of 'writer's block'. We cured him of that for good. But he was the one who had to do it. Because it's not one of the four physical elements – it's the last one."
I was puzzled. "Wait, elementals are just four – wind, earth, fire, water. What's this fifth element?"
Betty and Hami just looked at John, who answered me. "Simply put: Mind. It's in those books you looked at. And you've probably run into it many times. Met many people in your long history that personified it."
That I had. Over and over. Because we were often given inspiring messages to pass over to some of these. Usually changing their lives, or at least getting them onto a more productive line of research.
"What's next then? You're going to heal my mind?"
Betty smiled. "No, you're going to do this yourself. Please, let me have both your hands."
I put them toward her and she held each in one of hers.
"Now, close your eyes and relax. Trust your mind to bring you what you need most. Those ideas that might have been eluding you as you've chased them. Just relax and let your mind do whatever it wants to. Sounds weird, maybe, but the point is like anything – when you stop chasing, it will stop running from you."
With my eyes closed, I just let my mind swirl with thoughts.
- - - -
Eventually, I had it. And opened my eyes with a start. I knew what I needed to do next. This idea was an exciting one.
I saw Hami had meanwhile been giving John a treatment of his own.
"I hope she's been telling you the secret of getting back, because I've got some research to do – and you've got to help me."
John and the girls just reflected my own smile back at me.
John spoke up first. "Well, it's these turquoise stones we wear. There's a lot of theory behind them that I don't get right now, but the main point is that they can be used for teleportation as well as telepathy. Meaning, we are ready when you are. Kinda like tapping a set of ruby slippers three times in order to return home."
I almost laughed. Nothing like being around a writer to hear an old phrase tortured into a new use.
I rose, as did John, Hami and Betty. We all walked to the door and exchanged hugs with everyone. "Thanks for the great cookies, Hami. And Betty, I'm looking forward to having more conversations with you."
They both simply nodded, saying more with their eyes than they needed to in words.
John took my hand. "Ready?"
I nodded and smiled at him.
He pulled his turquoise stone from where it hung on a leather thong beneath his own t-shirt and held onto it.
We looked into each other's eyes and the world around us shimmered...
IX
We weren't far from the three cabins when we came back. And Bertie was sitting, expecting us. As we finished phasing in, she came right up to Angie and leaned up against her, expecting and getting a good petting.
Angie led us to the center cabin, with long and purposeful strides. I was able to keep up, but barely.
Through the screen door, settling into place where we'd left our laptops.
As I sat down next to her, Angie leaned over and gave me a big kiss.
"That's for all your help so far. Now, which of these books tell how this universe works?"
"I take it you want actuality instead of what people say is reality."
"Exactly."
I pulled down Wattles. "Here, start with the summary."
Then I found Haanel, Hill, and Nightingale's "Strangest Secret" transcript. And J. B. Jones' only book.
Then I pulled down a few more once she'd gotten through those.
Our evening was filled. When she had a question, or got stuck, I'd open up that book to another place where an author defined it (where the laptops and their digital search functions came in handy) or found and opened another book for her where some other author answered it.
After a few hours, we almost had half the books off the shelves and into piles on the table. Angie had moved to the couch, with a stack of books on each of the little tables, while she had her sock feed up on one of the chairs in between. And a few books on each side of her that were dog-eared to keep her place.
I went and made some herbal tea for us while she studied away. Put the pitcher on the table and a tall glass on the floor for her. She just nodded and smiled her thanks, then went back to her studies.
After a long, quiet while – I simply left her to her studies. The windows were open on that warm summer evening, so I knew she'd call if she needed anything.
I kicked my boots off and settled down on my own futon-couch with a book of collected short stories I wanted to read, for fun as much as learning. I knew that I could hear her if she needed anything.
Soon, my heavy-lidded eyes couldn't keep open any longer...
- - - -
The smell of breakfast woke me. It was daylight again. And that smell wasn't coming from my little burner, but through the window just above the couch back.
As I rose, the book I was reading closed itself and fell to the floor.
Without ball cap or boots, I padded in my sock feet over to Angie's cabin and rapped on the screen door.
"Good morning and come in, John!"
There on her little table were two settings. And a cute place mat under each, all in rose-colored patterns of light and dark, with green accents. Matching her quilt covering on her own futon-couch and the frilled curtains on her windows.
I sat down in the ladder-back chair hearest me, one like those in our mini-library.
Angie came over and slid a breakfast pan-bread onto my plate, right from the cast-iron frying pan. Setting that back down on the now turned-off burner, she set down the hot-pad to grab the coffee pot and fill the two mugs on the table, one in front of me. I saw the honey jar on the table and ladled into my coffee my usual amount. There was also Amish-made jam on the table, that I also made use of in topping the pan bread.
Angie brought her own plate over with a now-cooling pan bread of her own and proceeded to sweeten her own coffee and breakfast as I had.
Meanwhile, I had started digging in. The smells had made me hungry, plus I didn't recall eating after we came back from Hami's.
I was so hungry from the cooking smells that I was inclined to wolf down Angie's cooking. While she was quite a bit more delicate at eating hers, so I paced myself after a bit, although she didn't seem to notice.
She was still thinking a million miles an hour. And I knew the sight and feel of that. Both Jude and Sal had caught me at being more distracted than social before. So I just waited for her to return.
Once I finished the pan bread, I enjoyed the coffee with slow sips. As well as enjoying Angie's beautiful face.
She seemed radiant this morning, her hair was pulled back away from her cooking, and she was wearing a simple tank top with spaghetti straps. No doubt what she had worn to bed. But it showed off her pristine and sturdy shoulders.
At last, she scraped her plate of the last crumbs and jam, then caught me admiring her.
She had to smile at this. Angel or not, honest appreciation is always welcome.
"Hey, you want to see something?" She asked me, a twinkle in her eyes.
"Sure."
She scooted her chair back a little and then sat forward in it.
Behind her unfolded a gorgeous set of perfect, white wings that went from near the ceiling down to curl their long feather tips on the floor.
"Found them last night. Just where I'd left them."
I matched her ear-to-ear grin with my own.
"Congratulations."
With a shrug, she shrunk them back behind her. Then picked her coffee mug up and put both elbows on the table.
A perfect picture of beauty, smile and everything.
"I've already been in touch with Central, and they have some jobs lined up for me if I want them. Nice folks, those guys. Almost like I'd forgotten how good they always have been."
She sipped again, thoughtful, so I stayed quiet.
"John, I don't know how to thank you for all you've helped me with. Even though those wings were there all the time, they wouldn't show up until I'd changed my mind."
I nodded. "You're welcome, of course. The mind is a funny thing. And I'm still learning more about it with my fiction writing."
She just looked at me for awhile, and a mischievous look came into her eyes. "There is one more thing you can help me with. It's in one of these books I found late last night but didn't want to wake you up for your view on this."
She put her coffee mug down, and stood to get over to the counter where a large coffee-table book lay. Scooping this up, she plopped down on the couch, and patted the spot next to her.
I rose and then sat where she pat.
But instead of opening the book, she set it aside and wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me.
Of course I responded in kind, and this lasted for awhile.
When we came up for air, she just kept her arms around my neck and looked into my eyes, only inches from her own. "I figured that a red-blooded man like you would consider this to be appropriate thanks. Besides, Jude gave me a few ideas down this line, but I kinda put them aside with all the other things going on."
I had to smile. "Jude does have an interesting way of saying thanks."
Angie just nodded, and leaned into kiss me some more.
- - - -
Later that morning, after I had at last excused myself to check the cattle, I was a bit startled by a gust of wind nearby. The pasture had been quiet, all green, and the cows welcomed a new rotation of pasture as usual. Bertie had come with me, and was panting in the shade, her normal happy self.
At the gust of wind, she grinned even wider and stood.
I looked over to see an enormous pair of wings that were folding themselves behind a white-robed young woman with golden hair and deep blue eyes. All over a pert nose and wide, perfect smile.
"Hey, John."
"Hey, Angie."
"Wanted to stop by on my way out."
"Guess you've got some business to take care of."
"Something like that."
She glided toward me, almost like floating across the grass between us. Then took me in her arms for a huge hug. She made her wings disappear, so I had no problem giving her a huge hug back.
She then pulled back to look into my eyes again, and as usual, I lost myself in hers. So she kissed me to bring me back to the rest of the world, and then disentangled herself enough to take a step back.
"Of course, you know you're welcome here any time."
"Of course, you know I'll be back anytime I can." And then she reached into her low top and pulled out the turquoise stone where it was handing on its thin woven strand around her neck. "And that also means you should stay in touch."
"I'm sure I will."
"I know it – because I never got around to telling you all my stories you can use for your fiction writing."
I had to smile. "I can hardly wait to hear some of them. Like how you know Sal and Jude, plus the Library and all that."
She just smiled a coy smile. "You'll find out soon enough. Well, gotta go. There's a big stack of projects ahead of me."
"An angel's work is never done." I said.
"Unless she decides to take a break now and then. And you and your farm is a break well worth having."
She stepped forward to give me a last light kiss, the backed up to spread her wings again.
With one sweep, she was high in the sky, where her bright form soon lost itself in the light-blue sky.
Well, that was a two-for, I thought to myself. A great story to write and more coming along later.
Just what I needed, a guardian angel on top of everything else.
Guess I can live with that.
Makes great fiction, regardless...
NOTES: This story should have been included in the Primer (see below). And so I entered it here. There are several elements which first show up in this story - and were needed as the series progressed. One is where the two extra cabins came from (and why). Angie herself only shows up once more, as a supporting charater, a couple of years later. Yet this is one where I pulled characters from the earlier books to explain things. So now you know…
Oh - this is also one of the first “co-authoring” among my pen names. Because it’s a mystery (Marpel) and is a bit biographical (Kruze). Just the way I organized these for their later collections. (All my non-fiction is under my own name.)