| Day One (Angels Live in My Town) Journal mine, it's been a helluva day, starting at this morning. At first, I thought it was a hallucination. I thought that for several reasons, first of all that the big rig jumped onto the curb a block in front of me. Forget the movies, where chairs, cars, fire hydrants, etc. seem to jump into the air when hit and fly off to one side or another, an 18-wheeler just ROLLS over whatever unfortunate objects/creatures happen to be in its path, bumping a little on something a little large. I'd never seen anything like this, but it was nothing compared to the survivor. After the truck stopped (in a building that barely withstood the impact) I ran over to the path it followed-I don't know why I did, I've got no medical training, not even CPR, but I couldn't just stand there. I saw a man who looked okay from the bellybutton up, except for the blood all around his mouth. A doctor told me later that the blood spurted from his mouth because the pressure of the truck rolling over his legs and pelvis meant the blood "had to leave somehow." His exact words-MDs are a morbidly humorous bunch. But there I was, standing over a man who had about 5 minutes (tops) and I look at his face-and I freeze. You'd think that his face would show such pain as to make the Marquis de Sade blush, yet he was looking over my shoulder with reverence, wonder, and extreme contentment-almost happiness. I followed his eyes behind me and I got my third (and largest by far) shock of the day. At the sight of her, I forgot everything else. It wasn't that she was beautiful beyond words, nor the aura of white light around her. The most amazing thing about her was the expression on her face as she looked at the dying man. It told him that the pain would be over soon, that he was going to a better place, that everything would be all right. I heard a sigh and turned back to him just as he closed his eyes for the last time. She stretched out a glowing arm and touched his forehead ever so gently, a gesture that seemed eerily close to locking the front door when leaving the house. She pulled away from him and turned her head to leave, and I said, "Wait." I've detailed in other pages how people looked when I've thrown surprise parties, and I've seen footage of those winners when the $10 million prize comes to their doorstep, and believe me when I say they had nothing on this girl when I talked to her. Her face was total shock-and she was so taken aback that she stopped glowing. "You?you see me?" she said, kind of haltingly, like someone that hadn't spoken in a long time. "Why shouldn't I? Aren't you here?" I replied. Right about then, other people started arriving and not doing much except standing around screaming for help. Or gawking-there were a few voyeurs of death looking around the carnage. She smiled warmly enough to melt a glacier and said, "I'll find you later-there's a lot we need to talk about-but not here." She stood up and walked backward into the crowd, who barely seemed to notice her, but she didn't take her eyes from mine until she stepped sideways behind someone and was gone. By then, the police and paramedics were on the scene, and I was obligated to stay for a few hours, telling and re-telling what I saw, minus the gorgeous woman. So many reports, so little time. All that blew my day out the window. I had to cancel appointments all over the place, and my truthful excuse that the police needed my help at a disaster didn't go over well with some of my patients. Especially Jarvis-hands down the most imaginative paranoid schizophrenic I've ever heard of. I actually let him rant about the aliens and police working in tandem to implant my brain with transmitters and recorders so they could learn his weakness. He said he'd find a new psychologist (again) but he'll be back. I didn't get home till about 8 or 9-my internal clock was on the fritz after an eternity in a small office telling and retelling the story. I dropped my case, shucked my jacket, and I turned on the TV news, part of me looking for a free plug for my practice (never hurts) but most of me wanting to catch another glimpse of her. The accident was the lead story-8 dead, 40+ injured, but no mention of a beautiful witness-she was too pretty not to be put on TV if they'd found her, but not a trace of her. "Or of me," I said aloud. It would have been interesting to see myself on the screen, but I wasn't going to lose sleep over it. I suspected all my insomnia would be due to her appear-steal- my-heart-disappear act. I was probably close to tears when I heard a timid knock on my door. " 'Tis the wind," I muttered, "and nothing more." (Journal note-I beg for forgiveness for poaching Poe-but I couldn't help it! But the door really did get knocked upon, and that's what's important.) I opened the door, and there she was. Of course, my first reaction to odd events is a wisecrack (except with patients) and I've earned a reputation with friends and colleagues for this behavior. "No glow? Forget to pay the bill?" Yeah, that's a rep I'm never going to lose. But rather than snort-or slap me-she smiled. Smiled with such caring and excitement that I felt like a glob of warm tapioca. It's a very pleasant feeling, messy as it sounds. "Do you mind if I come in?" she asked. I opened the door all the way and gestured gallantly. "Please, I'd like nothing more," I said. Sometimes I can charm people (women) into forgetting the foot in my mouth. Still smiling, she stepped into my dingy but comfy apartment-I hadn't tried for the "I'm practicing but still paying off student loans" look (I hadn't tried for any look) but the whole place brightened up as she came in, as though it had been waiting for her. She looked around, and I did too, hoping there wasn't any major messes I'd forgotten about. Her eye went straight to the TV news, and she did the math and asked, "Were you mentioned?" "Nope?.but neither were you." She smiled again, pensively, biting her lower lip, and said, "No. We never are. Recognition is not something we get in this business." She looked at me and continued, "Except not this time. You see-you did see-me and what I did for that man." Completely confused, I said (again), "Why shouldn't I? Aren't you here?" No smile this time, but a twinkle in her eye that said she was about to really enjoy herself. "Because I can only be seen by those who are ready to die. Because I'm an angel." Now, I've been a devout atheist for many years, but with her standing there, and me having seen what I'd seen so far today, what could I say but: "I believe you." I really did. Then a thought caught me off guard. I said, "Am I ready to die? Am I about to?" Not just a smile, but a laugh! Listening to her, I remembered what the old movies said about a bell ringing and an angel getting its wings. Surely the sweet tones were created to imitate the glorious sound filling my ears. (Journal note: I know it sounds like I'm high or something, but waxing poetic is the only way I know to express the sound of an angel laughing.) She said, "No, you're not-not soon anyway-I checked." "Checked? With who?" A grin. "With those who keep track of such things." Questions were now flashing through my mind like strobe lights, but one kept repeating: "If you can only be seen by the dying, and I'm not dying, how come I'm here able to talk to you now?" "Because?.well, I don't know the 'why,' but I do know the 'what' of this situation. For some reason, every one of us has a person that we are real to. God knows why, but He's not telling. Apparently, you're my?..one, for the lack of a better term." "So there's an angel for every person? How many of you are there? What about babies? What about people who don't believe in God? Like me?" I was amazed at these banal questions coming from me at such an epiphany in my life, but hey, I'm a fanatic of details-this was still a bit much. She tilted her head to her left and said, "Yes. One for every person born. We meet them anyhow. And as for your last two questions?." She stepped right in front of me, took my hand in both of hers and said, "Do you believe now?" Damn straight I did.. I wanted to learn more about the system, but I put that aside for a moment to deal in basic courtesy. I said, "Do you have a name? I'm Alex." "A name? I have none?.but I think you could call me Angela." She giggled. (Journal note: take a moment, Alex, and reflect on how good it feels to hear an angel giggle. Especially this gorgeous one.) "So?.what's the prize we win for finding each other?" I managed to keep from adding, "I could use a new computer." "Well?.I don't know what you get, but I get the best of both worlds: an angel's powers and a human body. That is, until you're dead." I considered for a moment. "Hmmmm?..does this mean you're going to protect me so I live to a ripe old age?" It sounded like a good deal. "Do you need a guardian? You've been through a lot, I think only random chance could stop you now-like that truck today." I really didn't want a reminder of that unlucky guy with no legs or pelvis. I had another thought, somewhat perverted, that I could not resist airing: "So?..does that mean you're going to be trying out the sins of the flesh?" She winked. Winked! "Feeling lucky?" I conspicuously pinched my arm. She said, "What'd you do that for? Think you're dreaming?" "That, or the truck got me and I'm in heaven already." "If that happened, there'd be no doubt in your mind." "So to all angels have this sense of humor or am I just more lucky than any one mortal should be? Not just a laugh, but a full on laughing fit, her whole body shaking. She tried to speak, but started laughing again, and finally got her breath back. "No, we're pretty calm. I think your personality imprinted somewhat on me when I saw you'd seen me. Probably about the same time I lost the halo." "Pardon the observation, but you don't seem too broken up over it. I think it would bother me if my whole reason for existence changed in a moment." Great-I was psychoanalyzing my guardian angel. She cocked her head again and said, "I think you're right about that, but there's a case to be made that humans have no purpose. They find reasons to go on, but a true purpose? No." Needless to say, I found this an odd sentiment to becoming from an angel, who all reports said should be finding the good in all human beings. I said as much to her, adding, "How about saying something spiritually uplifting that shows great faith in the intrinsically good nature of humanity?" She grinned. It seemed I was in for a good philosophical sparring match with an angel-a battle I was drooling for. She said, "Upon reflection, it seems that I've always had this sort of personality-it took meeting my missing link to bring it out. I do see the good in all people, but that does not affect my belief that humans become unhappy because of that purposelessness." She looked a little embarrassed at using a word that probably doesn't exist. "I think that humans are far enough above animals that species propagation is insufficient and the societies are not able to give everyone a purpose to fill their existence, a goal to work towards." How many people had I known in school who were depressed for that same reason? That they couldn't decide what to do with their lives at the point when that decision needed to be made? Very deep psychological insights coming from my angel. I was starting to suspect I was falling in love with her, unearthly beauty notwithstanding. Since I'm in the habit of dealing with my emotions in a straightforward manner, I said, "So are we expected to fall in love or what?" "It's been known to happen-but it's not a given. Flowers and candy wouldn't hurt either. And I'm a big fan of overly colorful and romantic poetry." Yep, I was in love. Oh well. C'est la vie. We spent the rest of that evening comparing notes on human nature. I'm a practicing psychologist, she's an angel, between us, we'd seen it all. It turned out that, yeah, she loved me too. (Journal note: I was nowhere near this blas� as it sounds-but I don't feel the need to write down my acrobatics of joy, my bouncing from the ceiling and walls.) She was pretty excited to learn that it was mutual. (Her bouncing around was exceedingly pleasant to watch.) I still had yet to eat dinner, so I ordered a pizza, and I was struck by how titillating it was to watch her lick sauce from the corners of her mouth. Not too long after that, we kissed. I could have sworn I heard angels singing, but it was her humming into my lips. Later that night, we went to bed, and I lack the words to describe the sex. No metaphor, no goofy expression, no "I saw God" jokes. I went to sleep thinking that this would forever be one of the all-time great days of my life. The next day, I woke up early and fixed a breakfast for us. I'd done so before, but this was an audience I would not disappoint. So much effort into scrambled eggs?..it's amusing now, but a royal pain in the butt now. I got a tray and put the eggs, some O.J., and some toast, butter, and jelly onto it, carefully carrying it into the bedroom where she was sleeping like an angel. (Journal note: This sort of this MUST be how that expression started.) She was on her back, eyes closed, so utterly content and at peace that it seemed the sun would hold its place in the sky to preserve that moment. I set the tray at the foot of the bed and went to get a camera, but when I got back she was eyeing the tray (and me) hungrily. I think this is enough of an entry for events of 24 hours?.and I think she's out of the shower, so I'll write again when I have the chance. |