27. Heaven
766 Words
Ash and Bessie run around in a fenced-in farm field, around and around. Where it is, Heaven only knows. Angel Rachel has insisted, for her own amusement, and yes, perhaps, for Angel Mel’s, that the girls wear ballerina tutus, Mexican sombreros on their heads, and snorkeling flippers on their feet. Almost toppling over every few yards, they chase frantic piglets towards a ramp leading up to a hovering cloud. Hundreds and hundreds of them squeal and run, squeal and run. As soon as one cloud fills with little pigs, the hatch closes, and the cloud vanishes into the afternoon sky. And another cloud appears on the horizon.
“Oh, say it isn’t so.” Ash wipes dirt from her cheeks with the palm of her hands. Bessie stares at the approaching cloud, wiping the sweat from beneath her sombrero. Soon, full-sized pigs spill out of the cloud’s hatch hovering near the ground. Ash and Bessie have been assigned to herd the new arrivals towards a pen filled with fresh straw, buckets of water, and corn. Several waiting angels smile and coo, holding out treats for their returning porcine friends.
The sound of high-pitched squealing fills the air like mammoth mice. And it’s only Bessie and Ash’s first hour. Twenty clouds later, the girls collapse on the ground, surrounded by contented pigs. One smaller one settles into Ash’s armpit and goes to sleep, his head on her belly. She doesn’t care. Eventually, she turns her head sideways to look at Bessie. “I feel like one big giant, greasy, yucky, smelly BLT,” she says.
“And just think. You’ve only got five or ten more pig retrieving assignments to go,” Angel Mel says, materializing in a blindingly orange flowered shirt to stand at their feet. “Nice outfits.”
Bessie opens her eyes to stare up at him. “Tell me I don’t have a session.”
“You don’t have a session,” he agrees, nibbling on NecNac Snaks.
“Oh, thank the Lord,” she mumbles. Her head collapses back onto the ground.
Angel Mel reaches into the bag to dig for another chip. “Actually, you do. I just said that because you told me to.”
“Oh, very funny,” she snaps. “Oh, big haha.”
He pulls another of his ratty screenplays from his shoulder bag and begins reading to himself. “But I can wait until you put your makeup on,” he adds cheerfully. He points to a corner of the field without looking up. Where his finger indicates, a spotless, up-to-the-minute bathroom and change room appears, complete with a set of clean clothes in each girl’s individual style.
Groaning, Ash pushes aside the pig, pulling Bessie up by the hand. Taking their time, the girls emerge an hour later, all shiny and clean, wearing everything but smiles. Angel Mel and Bessie head off in one direction, Ash in another. Both girls wave to each other without turning around.
Bessie glances down at the screenplay dangling from his hand. “Your latest blockbuster?”
“Yeah, a little something I’m working on,” he explains. “Going to channel it to Billy Wilder.” He jams the wad of paper into his shoulder bag, “I took care of Jason for you. He’s now in Rehab. Undergoing color vibration therapy with Angel Lionel.”
Bessie stops in her tracks. When she speaks, her voice spills over with anger. “Well, it’s about time. I hope an angel tosses him over a big giant cliff, that’s what I hope.”
Angel Mel stops to look at her closely. In a low voice which is unusual for him he murmurs, “Maybe that’s what happened to him. Maybe he went off a cliff.”
She looks up at him, holding a stare for a long while. They both turn away to watch a crow pecking at something on the ground nearby.
“Well, good. Serves him right if he did,” she barks. Her fingers reach up to touch her scar. “After whatever the hell he did to me and Ash. Where’re we going, anyways?”
He winks. “Patience, my little mushroom,” he says, beginning to stroll again. “You’ll see.”
“Mel?” Bessie brushes her bangs out of her eyes. “What was that weird thing Angel Rachel spit out? Sounded like she swore at us.”
Angel Mel chuckles before he replies, “Moritnlasjuitss? That’s angel-speak for … on second thought, no, I better not say. But it’s a doozy.”
- Writer
