Unexpected Angel

by Patrick McGhee

  Tony looked at the angel. He understood. He wanted to speak, but stopped short as the angel vanished.

  Tony stood and turned to Mercedes, “Did you see that?”

  “What?” asked Mercedes.

  “The angel . . . The angel who pulled me back from the truck.”

  “Tony, honey,” said Mercedes in a gentle voice. “You jumped back from that truck. There wasn’t any angel. The trauma of the event has you seeing things.”

  Mercedes placed her arm around Tony. “Let’s go inside the bar and have a few drinks. You need to relax and get this stuff about angels out of your head.”

  As Tony and Mercedes entered the bar, Tony was surprised at the cleanliness, the low noise level, the ceiling fans, the wood trim, and the stained glass panels between the booths. It was unlike the bars he had gone to in West Virginia. There was no loud music coming from a juke- box. Instead, there was live music played by a gentleman seated at a grand piano near the center of the room. A waiter appeared and ushered the two to what Mercedes called her favorite booth. She was in rare style today. She would show off Tony like a new trinket.

  Ordinarily, Tony would have enjoyed being dangled as a shiny bauble on a bracelet, being kept, being made over. He loved being the prize catch of someone putting on the appearance of a good life. Today, however, a parcel delivery truck had nearly snuffed him out. He had met and talked to his guardian angel. The world had become wobbly and lopsided. His brain was teetering on the brink of overload.

  Mercedes was up to her customary behavior. It was not uncommon for her to lavish compliments on a stunning young man and offer to buy him drinks. Most likely, he was looking for that. She would give her latest catch an unforgettable sixteen hours, inviting him to share her life and her bed. Mercedes might be able to convince half of Westfield that she was fulfilled by her hunk of the day. She might keep a happy face as she swiped her credit cards and wrote checks. In truth, the guy would be paid well for his affection. Mercedes was the girlfriend who could have been somebody’s mother, but preferred to be somebody’s mistress. Would these young men dump her without the dough? Yes!

  Mercedes and Tony sat in the booth with their drinks and some snacks, trying to find out all they could about each other. Mercedes knew there were certain things no one could bypass on a first date. Two people did not hop in bed with each other, at first sight, no matter how enticing it was. Or, maybe they did, nowadays. She didn’t know, so she played it safe and tried to listen to every word Tony said. She drank slowly to maintain her dignity. Tony, on the other hand, was consuming a lot of beer. When he began to giggle and suggested that he ask the man at the piano to play something for him to sing, Mercedes knew it was time to go.

  Mercedes offered to take Tony to her place. He did not object. He was far too drunk to be left alone. Though he was able to walk, he needed some firm guidance. He didn’t know the territory and didn’t have a clue where he was going. Mercedes guided Tony to her car. His car would have to remain parked in town.

  When they arrived at her apartment, Mercedes helped Tony out of the car. As they climbed the few steps to the stoop at the front door, he got sick. Seeing that his shirt and jeans would need to be laundered, Mercedes gave up the role of the lady who would take Tony to bed. Instead, she became somebody’s mom. She eased him onto the sofa and helped him remove his shoes and outer clothing. She wiped his face with a warm washcloth, then covered him with a blanket from the linen closet. Mercedes went into the kitchen and filled a glass with ice water. She would take that to Tony and ask for his undershorts and socks to wash. When she got back to the sofa, Tony was out cold. Not a problem. Mercedes simply removed the rest of his garments by herself. She got a glimpse of his body. She drooled; she gasped, “Oh, my goodness. What a man!” Did she really want to play mom? Instinct took over. She knew she must.

  Tony woke up about eight o’clock the next morning. Mercedes was in the kitchen. Tony sat on the edge of the sofa. “Where’s my clothes? Did we get it on last night? I don’t remember.”

  “No, honey,” said Mercedes from the other side of the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room. “You were far too drunk. You got sick and messed up your clothes. I had to put them in the washer. Don’t mind me. Just go on to the bathroom, if you like. I have already seen that glorious body of yours. It’s quite impressive.”

  Tony was bashful around her. He liked to be in charge of who saw his body, how much they saw, and when they saw it. He wrapped the blanket around his waist and headed for the bathroom.

  When he got back to the sofa, Mercedes brought him a glass of water with a touch of lime. He took a sip. “Mmm. This is the next best thing to alcohol.”

  “Glad you like it,” she said, “There’s coffee in the kitchen if you want some. If you don’t mind, I’m going to drive my car downtown and get your car to fill it up with gas. I’ll bring you some sausage biscuits from the deli. Why don’t you take a shower while I’m gone? Your clothes are on top of the washer. I folded them.”

  Mercedes was out the door. When she arrived at the place where Tony’s car was parked, a city policeman was writing a ticket for it. Mercedes sashayed up to the officer. She shaped her lips into a playful pucker. She swirled her skirt. She winked. The officer tore up the ticket. Mercedes started the car. She was on her way. The engine died at the entrance to a gas station. Two college boys pushed the car to a pump.

  Thirty minutes later, Mercedes returned to the apartment in Tony’s car. He could let her off in town on his way out of Westfield. Tony had finished his shower and was dressed. She gave him the biscuits, a can of cola, a twenty-dollar bill, and a hug. She hated to rush things, but she feared she might give in to other feelings that were beginning to creep into her mind. Once a mom, always a mom, she thought. It has to be like that.

  Tony and Mercedes got into his car. Tony was grateful that Mercedes had been so generous. As they neared the main part of town, Mercedes directed him. He eased into a parking space behind her car. Tony turned to Mercedes. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the forehead. She spoke, “Take care, young man. I hope you get that job in Myrtle. Next time you’re in these parts, please stop and visit.”

  Tony replied, “Thank you so much for everything. You’re a fantastic lady.”

  Chapter 17

  By midday, Tony was just north of Charlotte exploring the towns and campsites around Lake Nansemond. He was still having troublesome thoughts about the experience with the parcel delivery truck and meeting his guardian angel.

  The angel had advised Tony to go back to the person who loved him. Tony would do that some day. At the moment, he was busy satisfying his yearning to experience things in the opposite direction. He might delay, or maybe even cancel, his trip to Myrtle Beach. It was more tempting to see what lay around here.

  Tony drove slowly along the lakeshore. The road curved and dipped, going first through trees, then grassy areas, then more trees. It passed by campsites and boat docks. Now and then, an overlook offered an unforgettable scene of peace and beauty. It was near one of these that Tony was snapped back into the real world by flashing blue lights and a single siren blast. He was being pulled over.

  The deputy sheriff, a tall, well-built, young man with a dark complexion, dark hair, and brown eyes, informed Tony that the temporary tags on his car had expired. The deputy would call a tow truck and have the vehicle impounded until Tony could furnish proper plates for it. Then, Tony would have to pay the ticket plus the towing charge and storage costs.

  From his seat, Tony looked up at the deputy’s face. Eye contact. Aha! There is a way out of this, after all, he thought. Tony swiped his tongue along his lips as he continued to look at the officer’s face. Then he lowered his gaze to the area just below the deputy’s belt buckle. As he stared, he spoke softly, “Before you call the tow truck, I have a question about something I saw back up the road.”

  “Yes,” said the deputy, breathing a little heavily. “What would that be?”

/>   “It was a sign at the entrance to a one-lane dirt road that led off through the trees. It said ‘Passion Point.’”

  “Oh, that!” The deputy smiled. “That road is a dead end. It goes out onto a very narrow point of land with water on both sides. There is no place for cars to meet and barely enough room to turn around where the road stops. ‘Passion Point’ is the local name for the place. I must tell you, the name was chosen for good reason. That place has a reputation!”

  Tony smiled and looked directly at the deputy’s face. “I’ll bet if somebody tried to go out there, after while, and saw a cop car parked at the end, they would back right out, don’t you think so?”

  The deputy smiled, moistened his lips, and adjusted the angle of his belt buckle.

  Tony went on, “Is it nice out there? Is it a place worth going to, if you’ve got somebody nice to go with?”

  “Yes, it is,” said the deputy. “I’ve been out there, both on duty and off duty.” The deputy nearly stumbled over his words. “I mean when I was out there on duty, I was doing some investigating. It’s definitely a lover’s lane, but it’s known for other things, too. Some folks have run their cars off the end and tried to collect on the insurance. What I was investigating was a case where some lady got her husband drunk and drove him out there in their car. She managed to get him under the steering wheel like he was driving. Then, she buckled him up, put the car in gear, released the emergency brake, and got out of the way just as the car headed for the water. It took over a year to solve that murder. She finally confessed. That’s how we know all the details.”

  The deputy smiled. “When it comes to making out and getting it on with somebody, Passion Point is a great place to go. With all that water around, it’s like being on the ocean, only you don’t get seasick, unless you’ve got really bad shock absorbers. But, like you said, nobody’s going to come out there when they see a county vehicle parked at the end.”

  Tony grinned. “That was a fantastic description. Maybe you should have been a tour guide.” Tony moved his tongue to moisten the corner of his mouth. He smiled at the deputy, “I mean you certainly got me curious about the place. Land sakes, I‘d let you take me out there any time you wanted to--you know--like on a tour.” Tony used his fingers to brush some beads of sweat from his forehead. “My gracious, I think it’s gonna get hot today.”

  The deputy grinned. He adjusted his belt and brushed something off his pants. “Do you think you might like to ride out there with me and, sort of . . .like, look the place over, or whatever? I mean, we could call it a hospitality tour.”

  “We sure could,” replied Tony. “You know, if I wasn’t so up tight about the ticket and the tow truck, I could really get into this business of you being my tour guide and taking me to places I’d like to see.”

  The deputy’s voice was soft. “We’ll talk about your concerns after our little tour. It’s a possibility I didn’t read the numbers correctly. I haven’t called it in on the radio, yet. I’m not even sure my radio is working today. You know what I mean?”

  Tony looked at the deputy’s face. “Yeah, I sure do. I guess I would like it out there, you know, with you showing me stuff. I hope I will like what you show me.”

  “Most people do,” said the deputy. “Most people like it very much.” He smiled at Tony. He winked.

  Ten minutes later, the deputy’s car was parked near the end of Passion Point. The waters of Lake Nansemond lapped at both sides of the narrow road. The turn-around was just a few yards up ahead. The deputy took Tony on something like a Grand Tour. Tony liked what the deputy showed him. The deputy liked the way Tony expressed his enthusiasm.

  Forty minutes later, the man in uniform brought Tony back to his car. He didn’t mention the expired tags or the tow truck. “Maybe we can meet up again before you go back to West Virginia,” he said. “Be careful.”

  Tony got into his car and drove off, congratulating himself on the way he handled the incident. A bit farther down the road, Tony discovered another inviting overlook on the lakeshore. This one was more public. A little to one side were some picnic tables, currently unoccupied. Here, Tony stopped to eat some peanut butter crackers and a candy bar he had bought a few miles back up the road. He washed it all down with some bottled water. It wasn’t ice cold, but it was all right. He was wondering how Wally was handling things since he left. “I might as well call him,” muttered Tony. He fished his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed Wally’s mobile number.

  Wally answered, “Hey, Tony, how are you?”

  Tony replied, “I’m doing fine. Just about got run over by a parcel delivery truck yesterday. I met my guardian angel. I got drunk out of my mind. Today, I got pulled over by a deputy.”

  “Whoa!” exclaimed Wally. “What’s this about the guardian angel?”

  Tony recounted the story of the angel. He concluded, “The angel told me you were praying for me all day long. Is that true?”

  “It sure is,” responded Wally.

  “Well . . . the angel said your prayers saved my life. He also said I needed to come back to you. I just wanted you to know I will be back as soon as I get some things done here in North Carolina. I’m not going on to Myrtle Beach.” Tony sighed and went on, “I really have to go now, Wally. I love you.”

  “Thank you, Tony. I love you, too.”

  A lone tear ran down Tony’s cheek. A lump of disappointment lodged in his throat. Should I go back to West Virginia, now? No, I really need to stay down here a while longer. Why should I shortchange myself? Wally will believe anything I tell him about the delay. He will still love me. I can count on that.

  Tony noticed a young man, probably a college student, driving up to the overlook in a sporty blue car.

  I bet he’s got money. He’s not a bad looking dude, either. I wonder if he has a girlfriend.

  The young man turned and looked toward the table where Tony sat. Tony was fiddling with the laces of his shoes and examining the front of his jeans to make sure nothing had been spilled on them. As Tony glanced back at the young man, he noticed that the guy had removed his shirt. He was adjusting the waistline of his walking shorts to make sure there was a proper distance between his navel and the belt. When he had finished, he looked intently at Tony.

  Tony never did like staring games. He got up from the table and walked over to the young man. “My name’s Tony Danforth,” he said, extending his hand.

  “I’m Kirby Camden. I’m staying in a lakefront cabin in that new development over near Saxon Bridge.”

  “With your girlfriend?” quizzed Tony.

  “No . . . actually I’m staying by myself. I just wanted to get away for a few weeks and recharge my batteries,” replied Kirby. Looking directly at Tony’s eyes, he added, “And you, are you staying around here?”

  “No,” said Tony. “I’m down here from West Virginia, just seeing what all I can find to do. My plans are not definite. I thought I might go into town after while and try to find a budget motel. Don’t need nothing fancy when there’s just me.” Tony ran his fingers through his hair. “My batteries don’t need charging right now. My circuits are raring to go. All somebody’s got to do is flip my switch.” He moistened his lips and grinned at Kirby.

  Kirby’s voice quivered slightly. He looked from side to side, then at Tony. “Do you think you might like to come over to my place? I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to be an electrician and, you know, work on people’s circuits and stuff like that. Maybe if we get along real well, you might consider spending the night. Then we could turn each other’s lights on.” He paused. “Maybe I am asking for too much. It’s all up to you. No pressure.”

  Tony’s face brightened. “OK. You’re not asking for too much. Let’s do it. You lead the way and let me follow.”

  The two got into their cars and drove off. Tony had run into a spell of good fortune. I hope this guy is not an axe murderer, he thought, or a gangster with a submachine gun. No, he’s probably a whole lot like me. He�
��s looking for some friends and a good time. I’ve got to be willing to reach out and take some risks. I don’t want to miss all the fun in life. Who knows? I might have such a good time that I’ll need to recharge my batteries. Mmm.

  Chapter 18

  Wally had barely closed his mobile phone and placed it in his pocket, when Dorinda chimed in, “I don’t mean to be nosy, Wally. I bet that was Tony, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, he’s in North Carolina on the shores of Lake Nansemond. He misses me and wanted to say ‘hi.’”

  “Did he want you to send him some money?” asked Dorinda.

  Wally looked puzzled. “Actually, he didn’t mention money.”

  Dorinda exclaimed, “Then, I bet he’s got a hot little thing very close by, like right in his face. For shame! For shame!” She paused to think a moment, then she went on, “Oh, Wally, honey. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to say something that would hurt you.”

  “Don’t be sorry, Dorinda. It’s probably true. He had a hot little thing on a the night just before he left here.” Wally looked out the window. He thought he might start to cry. He didn’t. Then, he turned to Dorinda, “How can a person love somebody even when he gets treated like trash?”

  Before Dorinda had a chance to answer, Mileah joined in, “It happens all the time, Wally boy. I should know. I am the expert at going out with trash.”

  Norman interrupted, “Now wait just a minute, dear, sweet Mileah. You went out with me and I’m not trash.”

  “That’s true, Norman,” replied Mileah. “You are an exception to the rule. I’m talking about smooth-operators. They treat you like trash, and they keep it up until they die. Then, they don’t treat you any way at all.”