Unexpected Angel

by Patrick McGhee

  “You two-bit harlot,” screamed Ethel Sue as she pulled the Widow Jeffries by the hair. What gave you the right to take my husband to your bedroom? Sure, I know he’s too hot-blooded for his own good. But you had no right to entice him.”

  A chair turned over. A plate crashed to the floor. Silverware rattled.

  “Ouch!” Let go of my hair you bar-hopping hussy. All I did was to ask him to change a tire.” The Widow Jeffries kicked Ethel Sue in the shin, then lost her balance.

  Now the two were rolling on the floor, pulling each other’s hair and screaming.

  Ethel Sue yelled, “Since when does a man change a tire, and then sneak out the kitchen door after dark? You’re an evil bitch and a bad influence on your kids.”

  “Look who’s talking,” yelled the Widow Jeffries. “You served liquor in a bar when you were just barely eighteen. I’ve heard tales of all the men you were with, and how much they paid you.”

  “Listen here, you slut!” screamed Ethel Sue. “I repented of my sinful ways and I found the Lord. Me and Henry go to church every Sunday.”

  The two rolled into the legs of a table nearby, with such force, that the salt and pepper shakers slid off, the napkin holder clanked to the floor, and the ubiquitous ketchup bottle, with the lid not screwed on tight, tumbled over the edge. Before it reached the floor, it lost a big portion of its contents on Ethel Sue, slipping across her blouse, and slopping onto the tile.

  “Oooooew, “ screamed Ethel Sue.

  About that time three police cruisers, with blue lights flashing, pulled up in front of the building. Poplar Hill hadn’t had this much excitement since Buzzy Wentworth’s backyard moonshine still blew up. Everybody, including law enforcement, had been suspicious of that funny-looking shed in the backyard, but no one could prove enough to get a search warrant. Others suspected that the mayor received a jug of brew, now and then, as a payoff.

  The three officers left the engines running and the lights flashing on their cruisers, a sign to the whole town that something was amiss, and it was being dealt with.

  Sergeant Jack, Sergeant Dinky, and Lieutenant Alfonso marched into the room like storm troopers going into battle. Sergeant Jack put his hands on his hips and spoke, “I have been asked by the owner of this establishment to escort you two ladies off the premises. You will appear in city court this coming Monday at seven o’clock in the evening to explain your actions to the judge. Until that time you will not reenter this restaurant, nor will you speak to each other on the phone or in person.”

  Sergeant Jack turned and walked toward the door. The other officers ushered the two females out.

  The light-hearted family atmosphere in the dining area resumed almost immediately. Wally grinned as he imagined all the groups of diners, now conversing about the same thing, each of them adding a juicy bit of background, some defending Ethel Sue, others trying to gain sympathy for the Widow.

  Pastor Bob smiled at Wally and winked. “Now, buddy, do you see why I remained unmarried?

  The two walked to the checkout to pay for their meals. On their way, they got a glimpse of Daisy, back in the kitchen, doing an imitation of Ethel Sue.

  Wally thought, sometimes I wish I could be gutsy, like Ethel Sue, and beat the snot out of Tony.

  Chapter 15

  Tony’s brother, Charlie, owned a rambling farmhouse on the outskirts of Northbrook, a town about thirty miles from Poplar Hill. There was enough land near the house to raise a few horses and have a nice fenced-off area for the kids to play.

  Tony did not get along with Charlie’s wife. She and Tony were both headstrong and opinionated–each refusing to budge in an argument. As a result, Tony stayed away from the farm unless he had worn out his welcome everywhere else.

  Tony couldn’t pay the money back to Wally, right now. He figured he’d best be moving on. Wally didn’t know that was the reason Tony left. He would have to figure it out. If Wally felt abandoned and unloved, that was his problem. Better to leave him in that condition than for Wally to get fed up and call Tony a no-count freeloader. Wally might not actually say those words, but he would be thinking them, to be sure. Tony preferred to disappoint Wally rather than make him mad. He loved Wally, but it wasn’t convenient to be in love at the moment.

  Tony would be in Northbrook working for his brother. He would have to put up with that ugly cow Charlie was married to. What in heaven’s name did he find attractive about her? Tony thought the roofing job wouldn’t be too bad. Always before, he was able to manipulate his brother. Tony would often say that, because he was older, his brother should give in to him in a disagreement, should give him preferential treatment. He would reason that Charlie should make the job easy for him, not too much of the strenuous stuff. After all, Tony was stunningly handsome and his brother was not. It was important for Tony to preserve his appearance.

  If things got too far out of hand, Tony might casually mention the first child Charlie had fathered. The child’s mother, a woman Charlie never married, was allowing him to pay child support, on the side, so she could get that money and a welfare check, too. Tony was certain Charlie did not want any of this juicy information to get back to their mother, or to Charlie’s wife. He reminded Charlie of it, as needed. And, it worked well, as needed, like a wonder drug easing the pain of despair that came whenever Tony did not get his way. However, Charlie had contracts to fulfill and weather delays to make up. Perhaps he was being rough on Tony. But, Tony would have to pull his share of the load.

  The roofing crew took the whole week off for Independence Day. Charlie and Tony had an argument on the evening of July 4. Charlie and Sally Ann wanted Tony to pay room and board. Tony thought he should receive the treatment due a visitor. That’s what he was, wasn’t he? He had been there only eight days. He was not planning to stay all summer. He just needed to save enough money to go find a more fitting job farther south. Tony managed to display an unimaginable amount of understanding about the matter. Was it real? He wanted to keep things from getting too far out of hand, so he promised to start paying room and board. He would get some money out of the bank on Monday morning.

  Actually, Tony had planned to pack his belongings and be ready to hit the road Monday morning, as soon as Charlie had left for work. They usually rode together. Tony would use the excuse of going to the bank as a reason to take his own car. As Charlie was driving to the work site, Tony would be going in the other direction. He hated good-byes, especially if they were complicated by promises that had to be broken. He had done that to Wally. Now, he would do it to his brother.

  The roofing had been tough on Tony’s body. Despite work pants and gloves, Tony’s knees and hands were showing signs of manual labor. One afternoon Tony’s cell phone had tumbled off the roof. The display screen was smashed. The new phone cost him two day’s pay, by Tony’s calculations. Another day, Tony himself, almost slid off the roof. He could see it now on the front page of the local paper, Roofer drops from mountainside home; gets impaled on drainpipe. How boring! A handsome dude should at least crash through a guard rail on a blind curve--in his Jaguar, of course--and get smashed to bits as it tumbled five hundred feet over a sheer cliff. That would be death like in the movies. It would have a zing to it.

  Tony kept mumbling as he drove out of Northbrook on Monday morning. I certainly deserve better than this kind of work. That’s all Charlie can do, but I can do better. I am tired of listening to Charlie and Sally Ann arguing all the time. I am tired of their snot-nosed brats trying to climb all over me when I am dressed to go out for the evening. I am sick of being called ‘Unkie.’ I deserve better. Tony had convinced himself that going elsewhere to find a job befitting his good looks and other endowments was the proper thing to do.

  The quickest way to rack up the miles going south was to drive over to Augusta, then to Lancaster, and meet up with Interstate 77. Here, travelers could head south through the mountain tunnels going back into Virginia. The town of Griffin’s Mill was just on the other side of the state l
ine. Tony was supposed to stop there, at Sam’s Auto, to pick up the tags for his car. He decided he would have to do that on the next trip. He didn’t have money to pay for them, now. He was sure he could convince Wally to do it. Had he asked Wally? No. It was not a pressing matter. When the temporary tags expired, Tony would fix it by changing the date on them with a permanent marker. He was pleased with himself that he thought of a way around it all. He was headed south, looking for a job. He couldn’t be bothered with trifles.

  Chapter 16

  When Tony traveled alone, he was not in the habit of trying to see how fast he could get from one place to another. He preferred to adopt a more relaxed approach. Sometimes he traveled the interstates. Often, he did not. If there was a side road that got Tony’s curiosity going, he would drive it for a while to see where it went, to test the local flavor, to see if opportunities presented themselves. There might be a little-known tourist attraction to visit, a winery to tour, an interesting person to meet, an inviting bed to romp in. These were some of the possibilities that worked their way into Tony’s daydreams. More often than not, reality would set in, and Tony would run out of gas or get hopelessly lost.

  This day, Tony’s travel habits had been no different, so it was late afternoon when he crossed into North Carolina. He drove the interstate from Fancy Gap because it was the best route across the Blue Ridge. At the foot of the mountain, however, he decided to leave the expressway. He had only ten dollars left in his wallet, no credit cards, no checkbook. His debit card was on the dresser in the guestroom at Charlie’s. Unlike the plates for his car, these were trifles he wished he had not overlooked. Tony felt he would have a better chance of earning some money in odd jobs, or borrowing some money, if he took the old two-lane highway and stopped in one of the small towns along the route.

  Tony reminded himself that he could always use his body to gain some cash. When people saw what outstanding features he had, they became vulnerable. If they were lonely singles, his body was an answer to their dreams. Divorced persons had a thirst that Tony could satisfy. Widowed people were older, and hungered for a companion. They needed someone to make them feel special, to reawaken their lust. Tony figured that he wasn’t using these people. He was giving them something they wanted. He knew how to make the right moves to get people to part with fifty or a hundred dollars, just to experience the thrill of his body. They got something. He got something.

  Tony’s car began to sputter as he drove into the town of Westfield. He had a choice to make. Gas or food? He decided that feeding his stomach was more important than putting gas in the tank. He had a better chance of making extra cash if he were just stranded with nowhere to go. People just naturally loved his smile, his body, and his mannerisms. He didn’t want to look starved. That might be a turn-off.

  As he walked into Luke and Nora’s Convenience Store to see what he could buy with half of the ten dollars, he was confident he would be able to get a decent meal to ease his hunger. Later, he would use the other half of the money for some beer. He could meet all kinds of folks in a bar.

  Nora was at the counter. She was a petite woman, around sixty. Her voice charmed folks. It was musical. Her southern accent was a delight to hear. She looked at Tony and spoke, “May I help you young man? I don’t remember seeing you around these parts.”

  Tony replied, “I’m from West Virginia. I’m on my way to Myrtle Beach for a job interview. I am about to run out of gas. I’m hungry. I have only ten dollars.”

  “My, oh my, child. You seem honest enough. I do believe you are telling me the truth. Let’s see what I can round up from our deli at a greatly reduced price.” Nora motioned for Tony to follow her to the deli bar.

  “I do appreciate this, ma’am. I am not particular. I will eat just about anything.”

  Nora replied, “Let’s see. I have some fried chicken, potato salad, baked beas, and a canned soft drink. That would normally run you around $4.98. With your personal discount . . . it will be a buck fifty.”

  “Oh, thank you, ma’am. That will be perfect.”

  Nora pointed to a few small tables in one corner of the room. “You can sit over there.”

  About twenty minutes later, as Tony was finishing his meal, he was approached by a tall, dignified lady who had been browsing the snack items. “Do you come from around here, young man?”

  Tony could sense, by the way she smiled and ran her fingers through her hair, that she was hungry for male companionship. He knew all the signs. He stood. “My name is Tony Danforth. I’m from West Virginia. Would you care to sit down?”

  “Why, yes. I would love that.” Tony and the woman sat down. She began, “My name is Mercedes Brubaker. That is my maiden name. I took it back after the divorce. My children are grown and gone. I get kind of lonely at times.” Mercedes adjusted her hair and continued to smile at Tony.

  “I can’t imagine why any respectable man would divorce a lady like you. You’re very charming,” said Tony.

  “Oh thank you, young man. That was a very kind remark. I do appreciate it.” Mercedes seemed lost in thought for a fraction of a minute. Then she went on, “My ex-husband is a man who puts his job first. The family gets the leftover time, if any. He works in law enforcement. At present, he is the sheriff over near Lexington. We have two children. Our daughter lives in Lexington. She is a teacher and the mother of our grandchildren. Our son is still in college. He spends money like we had a printing press in the basement. He also has some social issues. I don’t want to create an unpleasant atmosphere talking about that.” She paused and looked at Tony. She went on, “When I worked, it was at the bank here in Westfield. However, the court awarded me a very generous amount of alimony. I find that I can be free, now, to pursue my interests.”

  “What are some of those interests?” asked Tony.

  “Let’s see. Cake decorating, photography, and men, of course. I can’t get enough, there.” Mercedes paused, leaned forward, and spoke in a low voice. “There is a nice bar just down the street. Would you care to go with me to have a few drinks? I would enjoy the pleasure of your company. I bet we could find all kinds of things to talk about.”

  Tony looked satisfied. “I guess we could.”

  “Oh, yes, we certainly could. We’ll discuss all that at the bar. I am inviting you, so I will pick up the tab.”

  The two left the convenience store and walked toward the bar. Tony was enjoying the company of Mercedes. She was a modern woman who seemed confident to handle whatever came her way in life. Tony was certain that part of this was knowing how to get any man she wanted. As they walked, Tony kept looking at Mercedes. He was so intent on everything she said. He wasn’t paying attention to traffic when he stepped off the curb to cross the street. Brakes squealed. Mercedes screamed. Tony felt strong hands lift him off the pavement and pull him away from a parcel delivery truck as it passed in front of him.

  Tony turned around. He was face to face with a handsome young man–blond hair, perfect complexion, radiant smile, and intense blue eyes. Tony’s heart was leaping. He was breathing heavily. A few stray tears trickled down his cheeks. His voice quivered. He asked the young man, “How did you do that? You don’t look any stronger than me. I could never do that. How did you do it?”

  “You were in trouble,” replied the young man. “Your time hasn’t come, yet. They are not ready for you.”

  “Huh?” said Tony.

  “They haven’t prepared your place yet.”

  “My place, where?” quizzed Tony. His chin was trembling. His face was white.

  “Your place in the eternal presence of God,” responded the young man. He smiled at Tony. He stretched out his hand toward Tony’s shoulder.

  “Don’t touch me,” screamed Tony. “What are you–some kind of weirdo missionary?”

  “I am your guardian angel.”

  “You’re full of crap!” yelled Tony.

  “No, I am full of the Holy Spirit. God, himself, sent me on this trip to save your life.”

>   Tony dropped to his knees. “Hey, look. I haven’t lived right. I won’t make it to heaven.”

  “Oh, yes,” said the young man. His voice was pleasant. “When you were very young, your grandmother took you to Sunday school every week. You loved all the Bible stories. You tried to tell them to your family. But, nobody wanted to hear them. They even poked fun at you. They called you Preacher-T. Remember?”

  Tony’s eyes widened. “I never told anybody about that. I was too embarrassed. How did you know?”

  “Oh, I just know those things. That is part of my training. I have to study people before I go on a mission.”

  “What mission? What are you talking about? You’re freaking me out, man!”

  “The mission to save your life. Now, let’s get back to what I was telling you. You went to the altar rail at a revival when you were thirteen. You knelt. You wept bitterly over your sinful condition. You asked Jesus to come into your heart. At that moment, the miracle occurred. Jesus claimed you as one of his own.”

  “Yeah, then something happened in high school and I went back to sinning, big time! I am so . . . so not perfect, not even good. I have messed up people’s lives.”

  “So true,” replied the angel. “In spite of that, you can be forgiven. It’s a gift that you don’t deserve. It’s called grace.” The angel paused. He reflected. He went on, “There’s one more thing I need to tell you. There are prayers for you coming up to us each day.”

  “Who from? My mom?”

  “No, the prayers are from a friend. You have hurt him very much. He has forgiven you and is sending up one prayer after another, all day long. The prayers contain detailed thoughts of you. I can convert those into pictures. That is how I knew exactly what you looked like.” The angel touched Tony’s forehead with his finger and made the sign of a cross. “You need to go back to your friend and make things right. His prayers spared your life.”