Big Love (21 page)

“This is a bad idea, a really, really bad idea,” Annabelle said. Her face was covered in black shoe polish and her hair was stuffed under a black beanie. You couldn’t see her unless she smiled.

In Zing-like fashion, Zing was ecstatic—this was the most fun she’d had since the last time she’d gotten in trouble. Like the time she’d put blue food dye in the water cooler and everyone’s teeth turned blue.

Zing took in the darkened storage room that contained all the personnel files. It was massive.

“I hope there’s a system,” Zing said, feeling daunted. Her confidence flagged when she noticed Annabelle biting her lip. That was not a good sign.

“I’m sure there is—we just have to figure out what it is,” Annabelle said. She walked to the first cabinet and read the label. She walked five over and read the next label. She repeated this down the long line of filing cabinets.

Zing stood rooted to the spot. “Got any ideas yet?”

“Not yet, but we’ll do it groups of five. You go over there and read the labels on every fifth filing cabinet and try to discern a pattern.”

After forty-five minutes, Annabelle had a
Eureka
moment. “I’ve got it!” she said.

“What is it?” Zing jumped up and down like Tigger in a Christopher Robin book. She’d already grown tired of searching and her performance had grown lackluster.

“It’s using the Greek alphabet,” Annabelle said, squinting her eyes at the cabinets and their secrets.

“I don’t know Greek,” Zing said.

Annabelle, who apparently did know Greek, made her way around the file cabinets until she located the records of the accounting department. “Here we go! Accounting Department files.” She opened up the file cabinet with Zing leaning over her. Annabelle stopped.

“What are we waiting for?” Zing said.

“I’m recalling my Greek. It’s not like I use it every day.”

“Well, recall faster,” Zing said, looking over her shoulder. They’d been in here for quite a while and she didn’t want to get caught. There were always prying eyes and she didn’t want to blow her one chance.

“Stupid question: Why is there an accounting department? We don’t get paid.”

“It’s not that kind of accounting.”

“What other kind is there?”

“Accounting as in how many incidents of interventions by each guardian.”

“Oh.”

They heard footfalls in the hallway.

“Shhh…get down,” Annabelle said, pulling Zing to the floor with her.

The footfalls stopped. The door handle jiggled. There was silence. Then the person moved on, seemingly satisfied that all was well.

“Whew, that was close,” Zing whispered.

“I’ll say. We might be able to get you out of here, but if I get busted I’ve got to live with Bertha nailed to my butt for eternity and you know what a pit bull she can be.”

Zing squeezed Annabelle’s shoulder. “You’re the best friend I ever had. I love you, you know that?”

“As much as Miracle?”

“Are you jealous?”

“Maybe just a little.”

“You’ll always be my BFF.”

Annabelle smiled weakly. “Really?”

“Really. Now, let’s get on with it before we do get caught,” Zing said. Touching moments were good but they had dangerous business to attend to.

“Okay, now let me think.”

Zing kept her mouth shut. It was hard, but she did it. A million questions raced through her head.

“I’ve got it. Count down three cabinets from the end by the door and look for the Greek letter B as in Beta. Once you find that look for Epsilon, the Tau, Tau,  Upsilon, which is really a U but there is no U and if I were a clerk I’d use that as the closest substitute.”

“Whoa, whoa, I have no idea what any of that means. Throw me a bone here,” Zing said.

“I don’t have any bones.”

“It’s a human saying. Can’t you just write this all down and I’ll work from your notes?”

“You really should improve your education,” Annabelle said.

“I’ll go to college when I get back to being human, all right?”

“I’m glad to see you’re taking this seriously,” Annabelle said. She located paper and pen and wrote the symbols out. “There. Start with that.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to look for personnel actions. Betty had to have done something to get herself human and stay that way. I need to know what and how she managed it.”

“Won’t that be in her accounting file?”

“No, that’s an entirely different thing.”

“Why would they do that? Why not put all of Betty’s stuff in one file?”

“Job security. It may also be that people have snooped before and they want to make it more difficult to locate information.”

“Good point.” Zing studied her Greek key and got to work making her way through the B’s. There sure were a lot of B’s. Ten file cabinets later she finally found a B and an Epsilon. “Geez, this is going to take forever.”

“Perseverance and patience,” Annabelle said.

Then it occurred to Zing. Betty was a Sapphic shaman, which, in all probability, made her a lesbian. “Shouldn’t we be looking in the lesbian files? Is there a section just for lesbians?”

“Now that is the first good idea you’ve had. You keep looking there and I’ll find the lesbian section,” Annabelle said.

“It’s a good thing we still count as a minority or this would be harder than ever,” Zing said, yawning. “What if we can’t find it tonight? Do we try again tomorrow night?”

“Not if you want to be human. If your body dies there is no going back. But if you’re too tired, we could just give up and go to bed.”

“No, no, we can’t do that,” Zing said, her determination banishing all thoughts of sleep.

“Ah ha! We do have a lesbian section.”

“That should make things easier, right?”

“Right. Now, get over here and help me sort through the lesbian Betas.”

Annabelle pulled out all the B files and sorted them into two piles—one for her, one for Zing.

“Is this all of them?” Zing asked, hopefully.

“No.”

Zing groaned. “Why do there have to be so many lesbians whose name begins with ‘B?’”

“I think we’re fortunate that Betty has an Epsilon as the next letter. She could be further into the alphabet.”

“You’re a ray of sunshine,” Zing muttered, and started shuffling files.

***

Four and a half hours later, Annabelle found Betty’s file. She gave a quiet yip and a fist pump. Startled, Zing turned too quick and crashed into Annabelle and the file—which sent Betty’s papers scattering all over the floor.

“Zing! That’s not helping,” Annabelle said, scrambling for the papers.

“You’re the one who dropped them, not me,” Zing said.

“Look, we have two hours until our shift starts. We need to re-file these other folders and borrow Betty’s, which will have to be brought back if our mission is to remain covert. Got it? Then we’ll sort through Betty’s file and see what we can find.”

“Okay,” Zing said, resigned. She started stuffing files back into the cabinets.

“They need to be in the right order, just like we found them. Now, hurry,” Annabelle said, picking up a pile of files and putting them away.

“This is torture,” Zing groaned. “Just think. . . There are humans down there on earth who spend most of their days doing this.”

“They have free will and can quit. You can’t. Now, get a move on,” Annabelle ordered.

Zing filed like her life depended on it. Actually, her life did depend on it. “I hope I’m still alive. I mean, you know, my human body.”

“I’m pretty certain you are. This love of yours for Nell is the ‘meant to be’ kind.”

“You mean it?” Zing said, shutting the last drawer of the last file cabinet.

Annabelle did the same. She wiped her hands on her black shirt. “I do. We’ll find a way, Zing. I know it.” She slung her arm around Zing’s shoulder. She handed Zing the file on Betty. Zing possessively clutched it to her chest.

“Come on, we need to get out of here,” Annabelle said.

Zing opened the door a crack and peeked out. The hallway was deserted.

“Put the file under your shirt. If we run into Bertha we can tell her we’re going for our morning constitutional.”

“Good plan.”

They ran smack into Bertha as they rounded the corner. “You two are up early,” Bertha said, studying their faces.

“We couldn’t sleep,” Annabelle said quickly. “Zing’s got jet lag.”

“Am I still alive?” Zing blurted.

“Yes, you are, and I don’t know why,” Bertha said. She looked Zing up and down. “Why are you dressed all in black?”

“It’s all the rage right now,” Zing said. “Haven’t you ever been to New York?”

“Hmmm,” Bertha said. It was like she knew something was up, but she didn’t know what exactly.

“Gee, Bertha, you sure look tired. Maybe you should go on a vacation. It might do you good,” Zing said.

“I’ve got my eye on you, Zing. I suggest you watch yourself,” Bertha said. She stalked off.

Zing and Annabelle breathed a sigh of relief.

***

Gloria and Frida were already at Zing’s cubicle when she and Annabelle showed up. They had changed out of their black clothes and were back in their customary white togas.

“Did you find anything?” Frida asked in a whisper.

“Not a thing,” Zing said.

Frida looked crestfallen.

“Just kidding,” Zing said. She pulled the file out from under her toga and did a little dance, complete with a pelvic thrust.

“Really?” Frida asked. She looked at Annabelle for confirmation.

“We found Betty’s file, but we don’t know what’s in it yet,” Annabelle said.

“Are you kidding me?” Gloria said, snatching the file from Zing.

“Hey!” Zing protested.

“I’m a speed reader,” Gloria said. “I can buzz through this thing and give you all the pertinent info.”

“That’s perfect,” Annabelle said. She swatted Zing’s hand away from the file.

“But this is my life we’re talking about here,” Zing said, not caring if she sounded whiny.

“Go watch your life on the monitor,” Frida said, pointing at it. “Nell is still by your bedside. Carol and Miracle left and are at the bakery. Nell insisted they go. She said you’d want that.”

Zing walked over to the monitor and looked at the live video feed. Her body was still lying in the hospital bed in a coma. And, sure enough, Nell was sitting in a chair by her bed, holding her hand. Nell’s head was resting on the edge of the bed and she was snoring softly. Zing’s heart swelled with emotion. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“Yes. She truly is,” Annabelle said.

“Even when she’s drooling,” Zing said.

Chapter Fifteen

The hospital door opened and Dr. Randall came in. Dr. Randall was a sixty-ish woman who looked more like a kindly grandmother than a doctor. “Good morning,” she said.

Nell opened her eyes and wiped her chin with her sleeve.

“I thought you might need this,” Dr. Randall said. She handed Nell a cup of coffee, two creamers and a packet of raw sugar.

“Thank you,” Nell said. She added the condiments and sipped.

Dr. Randall picked up Zing’s chart. “I don’t understand it, but here she is. Zing is a fighter. I still can’t figure out how she got hit by a garbage truck going forty miles per hour, yet has no internal injuries, and no brain damage. There’s only a scrape on her cheek. And she’s in a coma. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Zing’s kind of unusual.”

“How unusual? She’s invincible?” Dr. Randall put Zing’s chart back and stood studying Zing’s prone form.

“Actually, yes.”

Dr. Randall stopped staring at Zing and turned her gaze on Nell. “You’re going to have to explain that one.”

“Well, you’re probably not going to believe me…”

“Try me. I’ve seen plenty of weird stuff.”

“Not this one, I don’t think. You see, she’s my guardian angel.”

“I’ll say. She saved your life.”

“No, she’s a
real
guardian angel. She got a furlough and came here in corporeal form for thirty days. Yesterday was the thirtieth day. We fell in love and now she’s gone. Or sort of gone. Her human form isn’t supposed to still be here. It’s not how it works. I’ve been reading this,” Nell picked up
The Guardian Angel’s Handbook.

***

Back at HQ, Annabelle elbowed Zing in the ribs. “You left that behind,” she hissed.

“I got hit by a garbage truck. I didn’t exactly have time to pack,” Zing retorted.

They went back to watching the monitor.

***

Nell said, “It says in this handbook that guardian angels just evaporate after saving a person from an untimed death.”

“An untimed death?” Dr. Randall asked.

“An untimed death is when a potential accident is about to occur which could result in death. Your guardian angel intercedes—unless it’s your time to die,” Nell explained.

“Hunh,” Dr. Randall grunted. She walked around the bed and peered down at Zing. “Does she have retractable wings?”

“No.”

“How do you know that she’s a guardian angel when you have no proof?”

“If you met her when she was up and about, you’d know.”

***

Zing said, “Can we drop a bunch of feathers or something? I don’t want that doctor to think Nell is some kind of nut job,”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Annabelle said.

“I do,” Gloria said. “I think having a doctor know about guardian angels in a great idea.”

“Me too. I’ll be right back,” Frida said. She rushed off.

Less than ten seconds later, a single white feather floated down into the hospital room and landed on Dr. Randall’s shoulder. She plucked it off her shoulder and stared at it.

Nell laughed lightly. “That’s from Zing. She wants you to know she’s really an angel.”

Dr. Randall frowned and shook her head. “A single feather does not mean there’s an angel watching us. It’s just a feather.”

Another feather floated past Dr. Randall’s surprised face. She caught it in mid-air and studied it.

“How about now?” Nell asked.

“Sorry. It’s just two feathers. That doesn’t mean an angel sent them,” Dr. Randall said.

At that moment, a whole crap ton of feathers dumped down on Dr. Randall’s head. She sputtered and shook the feathers off her head.

“Believe me now?” Nell asked.

***

“What is going on here?” Bertha asked.

All the angels were so involved in watching the drama on the monitor that none of them saw Bertha arrive.

Frida quickly shoved Betty’s file under her toga. If Frida was one thing, Zing thought, she was a regular sneaky-pants. Frida had once planned an entire balloon fest right under Bertha’s nose. Somehow she’d managed to transport ten balloons she’d appropriated from the Albuquerque Balloon Festival and had free balloon rides for the guardian angels for an entire hour—until Bertha saw them and went apoplectic.

The balloons were returned and Frida had to pull thirteen day and night shifts in a row as penance. Frida didn’t care. She was now a legend. It was also amusing to look down on earth and see the balloon festival people racing around looking for their missing balloons.

“Hi Bertha! We’re keeping an eye on stuff,” Gloria said with fake good cheer.

“What kind of stuff?” Bertha inquired, raising one eyebrow.

“You know, like me not being dead yet and stuff,” Zing said. She stared hard at Bertha. “And why is that? Why is my body still breathing when I’m back here at HQ?”

Annabelle inhaled sharply. Then there was absolute quiet.

Bertha, arms crossed over her massive breasts, and without batting an eyelash, said, “I have no idea why that is. It must be some sort of anomaly in the spirit-flesh continuum—which will be corrected, I assure you.” She stalked off.

Gloria narrowed her eyes. “I think she knows something she’s not telling.”

“Yeah, but what?” Annabelle asked.

“I don’t know, but Bertha does try to keep things from us. Remember the squirtle incident?” Gloria asked.

Zing laughed. “It was cute! A cross between a squirrel and a turtle.”

“It was a mistake of nature. I wouldn’t call that thing cute,” Annabelle said.

Zing looked back at the monitor. She saw Nell picking up feathers. She was so beautiful. It made Zing’s heart hurt looking at her. It felt like having brain freeze of the heart.

Annabelle put her hand on Zing’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. We’ll find a way.”

***

After they finished their shifts, Gloria, Frida, Annabelle, and an ever-anxious Zing, powwowed in Annabelle’s room. Annabelle patted Zing’s hand while they sat on the floor with the papers spread before them.

“I wouldn’t say that Betty was an ideal guardian angel,” Frida said, putting another report on top of the already read pile.

“How come we’ve never heard of Betty before now?” Annabelle asked.

“She was expunged from the records and she worked in Trauma Management not Lesboland,” Gloria said.

“She had a category six rating,” Frida added.

“What does that mean?” Zing asked.

“It means she was
an uber rescue angel. She got sent in for the big stuff like floods, fires, hurricanes, and tornadoes,” Frida said.

“You mean like all those people that shouldn’t have survived but did?” Zing asked. Her opinion of Betty was growing ever larger. People thought they became superhuman when they lifted cars off people during times of danger, but they didn’t know it was angels like Betty who actually did the lifting.

“Yep. She was the big stuff,” Gloria said. “Look at this.” She handed Zing a file listing some of Betty’s bigger guardian angel saves.

Zing studied it. Betty had done some truly amazing feats. She had saved a dog during a tornado in Oklahoma City; she had saved a young man during a shooting at Pulse in Orlando; and she had saved a dozen of people during Hurricane Katrina. A very impressive resume.

So why had Betty wanted to leave? Why did she want to be human so badly? Then she got it. Betty had fallen in love just like her.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Frida said, waving a piece of paper over her head. “I’ve got it.”

Zing bounced up and down. “What is it? What is it? Show me.”

“Don’t get your hopes up until we see what she found,” Annabelle said.

“Buzz kill,” Gloria said. “If Frida says she’s got something then she’s got something.”

Frida beamed at Gloria. “I do have something. It’s the something we’ve been looking for.”

“Well, what is it?” Zing asked.

“Betty signed a Contract of Permanent Banishment,” Frida said. She turned the paper around so they could all see it. She pointed to a paragraph. “It says here that she was allowed to keep her human form after performing an act of selfless love, but she had to renounce her rights to being a guardian angel.”

“Yay!” Zing said, springing to her feet. She lifted Annabelle up from the couch and danced around with her. “I’m so, so, so happy! I get to be with Nell!” She danced for a few seconds before she realized that nobody else was dancing with her.

Zing stopped dancing. She looked at Annabelle’s face, then at Frida’s and Gloria’s. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you happy for me? Isn’t this what we were searching for?”

Annabelle burst into tears and threw herself onto the couch. She stuffed her face in a pillow and sobbed.

Zing stood perplexed. “What’d I do?”

“Does the word ‘banishment’ mean anything to you?” Frida said.

The gravity of the situation draped itself over her like a thick dark cloak. “You mean I’d never get to come back here? Ever?”

“That’s exactly what it means,” Frida said.

Annabelle sobbed harder.

Zing snatched the paper from Frida and studied it. “Never come back,” Zing said trying to process it all. She looked down at the paper and summarized what she read: “I would no longer be able to see any of you— even during an intervention. I would be human. Just like all other humans. I would even die as a human.”

Zing looked up from the paper.

Annabelle threw the pillow at Zing. “We’ve been friends for over one thousand years and now we won’t be.” She sobbed again. “You promised me we’d be together for always.”

Zing picked up the pillow and put it back on the couch. She sat next to Annabelle. “I love you, too.”

Annabelle stood up and whacked Zing in the face with the pillow. “Just not enough.” She marched from the room, the door slamming in her wake.

Zing was puzzled. She looked at Gloria and Frida, helplessly. “I thought she’d be happy for me.”

***

Zing could see the sliver of light coming out from under Bertha’s office door. She tapped softly. And waited. She tapped louder. She wanted it to sound aggressive, but not too aggressive. Maybe a medium aggressive. Bertha was known for getting her hackles up and digging in her heels, so Zing didn’t want to put her on the defensive.

She waited patiently for several long seconds. Then it occurred to her that every second she stood outside Bertha’s office was another second she wasn’t spending with Nell. So, she knocked hard, really hard, and on the third really hard knock, Bertha opened the door and Zing fell into the room. Bertha had graciously stood to one side so Zing could fall flat on her face.

“Somehow I knew it would be you,” Bertha said, closing the door.

Zing got up off the floor. “How’d you know? Because I discovered the secret?” Zing asked harshly.

“Sit down, Zing. Let’s talk about this reasonably. Would you care for a cup of tea?” Bertha didn’t wait for an answer. She poured a cup and handed it to Zing, who had managed to sit down.

“I find chamomile tea soothes the nerves,” Bertha said. She sipped her tea and studied Zing. “Now, tell me what you want to tell me.”

Zing put down her cup and stood. She wagged her finger at Bertha. “I’ll tell you what I want to tell you! Free will! Does that mean anything to you? And why didn’t you tell me I could decide? Why is it such a big secret? Is it because you don’t want all your precious angels becoming human and creating a labor shortage?” Zing was screaming now. All the pent up frustration of the last month came boiling out.

“Sit down, this minute,” Bertha boomed.

She scared Zing so badly she obeyed.

“And drink your tea,” Bertha added.

Zing stared at her.

“All right, you don’t have to drink the tea, but you do have to remain calm—for once in your life. Agreed?”

Zing nodded. She pressed her lips together until they formed a thin line. She couldn’t trust herself to speak. Who knew what would come out?

“To address your accusation that allowing everyone to know about free will would create a labor shortage is rubbish. Complete rubbish! Do you understand me?”

Zing nodded again.

“Not all guardian angels want to be human. In fact, most find the idea detestable. If they wanted to they’d find a way just like you did. Of course, if they did have the desire, they figured out the way using the guardian handbook. Not like you, sneaking around. You should get a severe reprimand for your behavior, but due to the urgency of your case, I’ve decided to let it go.”

Zing got a horrible feeling in her stomach when Bertha said “urgency.” Zing hadn’t checked the monitor recently because she’d been looking for the loophole. “Did I die?” she asked, her voice shaking.