Big Love (2 page)

Zing said, “I was playing Hacky Sack instead of watching over you and one second you were staring at your phone and the next thing I knew you went zip down the hole.”

“My phone…” Nell said and then she burst into tears.

Zing was flustered. “I’m sure you can get a new one. Those city people said they’d pay for everything, especially if you don’t sue. See, they sent that big bouquet of flowers,” she said, pointing at the vase sitting on the window sill. It was a wide window sill that seemed especially made for large bouquets of flowers.

“No, it’s not that,” Nell snuffled. Zing handed her a tissue from a box on the nightstand. Nell blew her nose and dabbed at her eyes.

“What’s the ‘not that’ then?” Zing asked.

“Oh, it’s a long story,” Nell said.

“We’ve got time. They won’t let you go until you poop. I don’t know if they’ll check or just take your word for it. If they do that then you could lie and you’d get to go home sooner.”

“How do you know that?”

“I overheard the doctors talking in the hall. They seemed really concerned that every patient poops before they can go home. I have no idea why.”

“You want me to lie? I thought angels were against lying?”

“It’s frowned on, that’s true. But I think this is a special case,” Zing said. “Now tell me what you were crying about.”

“Promise not to tell anyone?” Nell asked.

“I don’t know anyone to tell. The only human I know is you.”

Nell smiled at her. Zing had always thought that she was very pretty. Nell had the cutest brown bob hair cut (before the shaving and stitches, that is), a turned-up nose, rosy heart-shaped lips, and large, soulful, brown eyes. Nell’s smile made Zing’s heart sing.

Nell continued, “It’s just that I’m trying so hard to be patient with my girlfriend, but she won’t let me see her. In person. All she wants to do is text. We’ve been ‘dating’ by phone for months. I think it’s time we finally meet in person, you know? She had just backed out on another date with me and that’s why I didn’t watch where I was going and that’s why I fell into the hole.”

“I should have been paying attention to your love life, too, if things were going badly. It’s a guardian angel’s job to step in if it’s a potential safety issue. We are allowed to be proactive up to a point.”

“Safety issue?”

“Like if someone stepped on your heart or something and you stopped taking care of yourself and accidentally lit yourself on fire,” Zing said. “I’m pretty good at putting out fires. I was top of my class in fire safety.”

“Wow, I didn’t realize. . .”

“Since we’re waiting for you to poop, why don’t you tell me all about this woman you’re seeing,” Zing said.

“Well, it started when we met online. . .” Nell began. But that was all she had the chance to say before a woman dressed in all white and smelling like donuts flew into the room. The woman took one look at Zing and blurted, “Who the hell are you and what’re you doing in here?”

Zing recognized the woman right away. She was Carol, Nell’s best friend and business partner. She was well-known for her abrasive demeanor. She was what was commonly referred to as a curmudgeon.

“I’m Zing. Nell’s guardian angel.”

“Yeah, well, where were you when she needed you?” Carol said, jabbing her finger at Nell’s bandaged head. She hovered over the bed.

“I was playing Hacky Sack when I should have been paying attention to Nell,” Zing said, staring at the toes of her pink Crocs.

“Why’d you let this nut job in your room?” Carol asked.

“I was unconscious,” Nell said. She looked at Zing and smiled apologetically. “This is my friend, Carol.”

“I know,” Zing said. Not only did she know Carol’s name but she knew a lot of other things about her as well. She knew Carol wasn’t exactly pretty, but she wanted to be. She also wanted to lose twenty pounds, but blamed working in a bakery for the extra weight. She knew that Carol’s mean attitude and sharp words were mostly an act that covered up a soft, gooey interior, much like one of her jelly donuts.

Zing also knew a lot about Nell’s life, although there wasn’t that much to know. Nell worked all the time, and when she wasn’t doing that she clicked away at her computer. Truth be told, Nell was boring. That’s why Zing didn’t pay much attention to her—Nell wasn’t a risk taker, not like Miracle-the-daredevil that Annabelle guarded. Miracle was always doing something worth watching. Miracle kept Annabelle on her toes.

The one thing Zing didn’t know about Nell was this person she was supposedly dating. Guardian angels had limits and one of those limits was that they couldn’t see anything on earth except their human. That’s why Zing had never seen Dove—because Nell had never actually been in the same room as Dove.

“Hey you, I asked you a question,” Carol said. “I want to know your real name.”

“Real name?” Zing asked.

“Zing is a nickname, right? What’s your real name? I want to know so I can report your ass to your supervisor,” Carol said.

“My real name is Zing.”

“What the hell kind of name is that? You a foreigner or something?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. Where I come from we get to name ourselves. I chose Zing because it sounds so. . . zingy.”

“Just what I thought,” Carol said. “A frickin’ nut job.”

“Don’t call her that,” Nell said. “She’s been very nice to me.”

“So, she’s a nice nut job,” Carol said. She sat on the edge of Nell’s bed and frowned down at her friend. “You gave me quite the scare, you know that? How the hell did you manage to fall into a manhole anyhow?”

“She wasn’t paying attention where she was walking,” Zing said.

“Were you there when it happened?” Carol asked.

“I was supposed to be there to prevent it. My bad,” Zing said.

“Yeah, okay…” Carol rolled her eyes.

“I was looking at my phone instead of watching where I was going,” Nell said.

“What was so interesting that you had to look at it right then when you were supposed to be watching where you were going?” Carol asked in a tone of voice that said she already knew the answer.

“I was texting Dove. We were arguing. She still won’t meet me in person.” She sniffled and continued weakly, “I don’t know, maybe she’s done with me. She is a novelist after all. I’m sure lots of fangirls offer themselves up to her. She’s beautiful and talented and who am I? I make donuts. Maybe she doesn’t want to meet me because I’m not worthy.” She burst into tears.

Zing pulled out another tissue for Nell, but Carol tore it out of her hand and gave it to Nell.

At that moment, a short, bald man with a noticeable PBN—‘pot belly noted’—walked into the room. His nametag read Dr. Stein. “Ah, I’m glad to see you’re awake. You should have pressed the nurse’s call button, but no matter.” Carol moved from the bedside, giving the doctor room. She intentionally stood in front of Zing, blocking her access to Nell.

Dr. Stein took Nell’s pulse, listened to her heart, and noted both on the chart. “Everything is looking good so far.”

Zing waved at Nell over Carol’s shoulder to get her attention. She mouthed, “Tell him you pooped.”

Nell nodded that she understood.

The doctor looked up from the chart and asked, “Have you gone to the bathroom yet?”

“Yes, and I pooped,” Nell said proudly.

Zing gave Nell a big thumbs-up.

“Good, good.” Dr. Stein scribbled some more on the chart. “Do you feel well enough to go home?”

“I do.”

“Then you shall. Can your friends help you out for a bit just to make sure you’re functioning at full capacity?”

Zing’s arm shot up in the air. “I can. I can help!”

“I don’t think so,” Carol said, pushing Zing back. “I’ve got this. I’m sure Zing has other patients to read to.” She picked up Zing’s volume of
The Guardian Angel’s Handbook
. She glanced at the title and made a face. “Yeah, I really think you should stay away from Nell.” She shoved the book at Zing and pushed Zing toward the door.

Nell saw Zing’s face drop. She offered, “Zing, why don’t you stop by the bakery tomorrow and I’ll give you some donuts. You know, for helping me out.”

“Thank you. I’ve never had a donut. I’d like to try one.”

“Bye,” Nell said.

“Bye.”

“Good riddance,” Carol muttered.

Zing walked out the door with the book under her arm. She had twenty-three hours left on earth to make amends with Nell. That was plenty of time to enjoy a donut or two.

Chapter Two

After leaving the hospital Zing didn’t know what to do with herself. She strolled down the street in her pink outfit. It was a sunny day. She liked the feel of the warm sunshine on her face. She saw a park so she headed that way. The grass looked green and smelled fresh. Smells were a new thing to her. The hospital smelled funny and not very nice.

She crossed the street, careful to avoid manholes and fast cars. She remembered that Miracle—she was Annabelle’s human— had almost gotten hit by a car while trying to save a stray dog. Thank God, Annabelle had saved her and the dog, too. To date, Annabelle had saved Miracle from 32 fatalities involving cars, trains, airplanes, white water rapids, soap in the shower, an avalanche, a ski jump, three motorcycles, and a curling iron. Miracle was not only a daredevil, but she was klutzy. That’s why they nicknamed her Miracle—because it was a miracle she was still alive. Her real name was Sheila.

Zing sat down in the middle of the park and ran her fingers through the grass, enjoying the way it tickled her fingers. She thought about Miracle and the stray dog she had rescued. Miracle had taken the mangy dog home. The dog looked nice after Miracle washed him. He looked healthy after she fed him. And because he looked so clean and healthy, Miracle had been able to find him his forever home.

If Miracle took in stray dogs, maybe she’d take in stray angels? She could use a bath and food. Zing didn’t need a forever home but a place to spend the night would be nice. As Annabelle was fond of saying: you can’t find rainbows unless you look. Zing wasn’t sure what that meant but she did like rainbows. Perhaps Miracle was the rainbow and Zing should go looking.

Zing left the park and crossed the street, once again avoiding manhole covers and fast cars. She used the crosswalk this time, waiting with the other people who were watching the white walking person on the sign to tell them it was safe to cross. She saw a bus stop with an old woman sitting on the bench.

Zing was intrigued with how the old woman’s skin was wrinkly and saggy. Aging didn’t happen to angels. Their skin stayed the same; it didn’t get all stretched out from living. Or maybe it wasn’t the skin that got stretched out; maybe it was the person inside who shrank.

Zing approached the old woman. “Excuse me, old woman, but does this bus go to the place where there are a lot of big old houses with pretty paint jobs and large porches with white basket-like furniture?” she asked.

Zing knew that Miracle rode the bus when she’d wrecked her car and the police had taken her license away. According to Annabelle you needed a license to drive. After a one-year suspension and lots of traffic school classes, Miracle had gotten her license back and she bought a new car. She must have learned her lesson because her new car was still in one piece with no scrapes or dents and she hadn’t gotten any more tickets.

The old woman answered, “You mean the Hightower neighborhood? Yes, the bus does go there. It’s at the end of the line so you can’t miss the stop.”

The old woman wore a red hat with a big feather. It must’ve been a really big bird to have a feather that big, Zing thought. And it was purple! She hadn’t ever seen a big purple bird.

The old woman also wore a purple dress and purple shoes and had a purple purse sitting in her purple lap. Zing figured purple must be her favorite color. Her hat was red, though. Maybe the woman is blind, Zing thought. Even she knew purple and red didn’t go together.

The old woman continued, “I’m going to the Hightower district to have tea with The Red Hat Ladies. We have a fancy tea once a month at Elizabeth’s house. She lives in one of the Victorian houses you described. We always go there because Elizabeth is agoraphobic.”

Zing looked puzzled. “Agoraphobic?”

“It means she never leaves her house because large spaces make her anxious. The upside is that she has a beautiful garden and keeps her house very, very clean.”

“Agoraphobic,” Zing said, rolling the word around her tongue and lips. “I’ll remember that.”

“Oh, here comes the bus now. Do you want to see the Victorian houses? We’ll ride the bus together.”

“I’d like that,” Zing said. “Are there any big purple birds there?”

“You never know,” the old woman said. Zing helped the old woman stand. That was another thing about old people—their bones made strange popping and cracking noises when they moved.

The bus whooshed to a stop. Zing liked the noise. “Whoosh, whoosh,” she said.

“I’m Clara by the way. What’s your name?” Clara said as the bus door opened.

“Zing.”

“Well, that’s certainly an interesting name.” Clara climbed the stairs and put coins in the box. Zing followed her down the aisle.

“Hey, you have to pay,” the bus driver said. He looked mean. His mouth had a lot of frown wrinkles. “No pay, no ride.”

Zing remembered about money. You had to have it to do things on earth and she didn’t have any.

“Oh, here, you crusty old bugger,” Clara said, and put coins in the box for Zing. “Come on, let’s sit in the back since we’re last to get off.” Clara led them to the last seat on the bus. They slid into the bright orange plastic seats.

The door on the bus closed, the bus made another
whoosh
noise, and then lurched off into traffic. A car honked behind them. The mean bus driver stuck his fist out the window and shook it. Zing wondered what made him so mad all the time. He certainly didn’t have a rainbow in him.

Clara seemed to sense her anxiety. She patted Zing’s knee. “Don’t worry about him. He hates his job and that makes him cranky all the time.”

“Then why doesn’t he get a different job—one that gives him a rainbow inside?”

“That is a very good question. Lots of people have jobs they don’t like, but they don’t do anything about it. They make up excuses as to why they must keep working. They think they can’t change anything because it scares them, and they worry too much about money.”

“Ah,” Zing said. “Money scares people a lot, I’ve noticed. People always worry about not having enough of it. Then if they do have it, they worry about losing it. I’d rather not have any money. Then I wouldn’t be scared all the time.”

“Wise words,” Clara said.

“Do you have a job that you enjoy?” Zing asked.

“I did. I was a first grade teacher, but I’m retired now. I loved teaching the children to read and learn their sums. Their minds are so wide open at that age. They take such joy in learning. Do you have a job that you like?”

“Yes, I do,” Zing said. She watched out the bus window as the trees and buildings whizzed by—it was all such a blur of color, cars zipping by, and red lights making the bus stop. And there was a lot of horn honking. Zing decided she’d like to learn to drive, but she wouldn’t honk at other cars. She was beginning to understand why the bus driver was so cranky.

“And what do you do, dear?” Clara asked.

Zing turned her attention back to the old woman. “I’m a guardian angel. But I did something bad. I wasn’t paying attention and Nell tripped and fell in a hole and hurt her head and now she’s missing part of her hair because they had to shave it off so they could stitch her up.”

“Well, things like that happen.” Clara patted her hand.

“They do?”

“All the time. Is your friend all right?” Clara asked.

“Yes, she’s getting out of the hospital today.”

“That’s good. And her hair will grow back. It always does.”

The bus lurched to a stop and a woman accompanying a girl with Down Syndrome got on. The two sat down in the seat in front of Zing and Clara. Zing tapped the girl on the shoulder and she turned and smiled at Zing.

“Hi, Penelope,” Zing said.

“Hi, Zing,” the girl said back.

“I’m only here for twenty-three more hours.” She leaned closer to the girl, cupped her hand over her mouth, and secretively whispered, “I goofed pretty bad and I have to make sure my human is all right before I can go back.”

The girl chuckled.

“How are things going with you?” Zing asked.

“Good,” the girl said. “If you stay longer maybe we can go play together.”

“That sounds fun. I’ll look you up if that happens.” Zing sat back in her seat and the woman and girl got off at the next stop.

Clara turned to Zing and asked, “You knew that girl?”

“Uh huh,” Zing said. “We went to school together. She’s an angel, too.”

“She’s an angel?”

“Yep. She’s a teacher angel. All Down Syndrome people are put on earth as teachers.”

“Well. . .” Clara said, sounding like she didn’t know what else to say. “What do they teach?”

“Kindness,” Zing answered. “And patience.”

Clara smiled and settled back into her seat. She pointed out landmarks and gardens as they passed. Soon they entered the Hightower District. The houses were painted all sorts of bright colors and the porches had wicker furniture and pots of red flowers. Clara called them geraniums when Zing asked what they were. She learned about lilac bushes, roses, and hydrangeas. Zing liked them best because they had such large blooms.

After a while, Clara and Zing were the only ones left on the bus. The driver called out the last stop, and they got off. Zing helped Clara down the steps of the bus.

Clara said, “Well, here we are. What’s your friend’s address?”

“I don’t know.” Zing looked around at all the houses. She didn’t recognize any of them. “I thought I knew what her house looked like but there are so many like it.” Zing felt disheartened. “I guess I’ll walk around until I find it.”

Clara looked concerned. “First, let’s go ask Elizabeth. She knows a lot of the people in her neighborhood.”

“How, if she doesn’t ever leave her house?”

Clara whispered behind her hand, “Let’s just say she’s a teensy bit nosy.” She giggled like a naughty schoolgirl.

They walked two blocks from the bus stop until they came to Elizabeth’s house. She was in her front yard pruning a rose bush. Her house and garden were as pretty as Clara had said. It had lots of the flowers Clara had named for her while on the bus. Zing thought everything was so beautiful it was no wonder Elizabeth didn’t want to leave it.

“Good afternoon, Clara. I see you brought a friend all dressed in pink,” Elizabeth said.

It was true. Zing still wore the pink candy striper outfit with pink Crocs. “I was at the hospital,” Zing said.

“Oh, that makes sense. How silly of me.”

Zing studied Elizabeth—she wore gardening gloves and a big straw hat but she was dressed in all purple too. She was old, but still had vibrant blue eyes. The lines around her mouth were caused by many years of smiling.

“There are so many colors,” Zing said, looking at all the flowers in her yard. “So pretty.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said.

“I like rainbows,” Zing said.

“That’s nice, dear,” Elizabeth said. “Would you like some iced tea? It’s getting warm out.” She took off her big straw hat and fanned her face with it.

“Iced tea sounds good,” Clara said. “Come, Zing, we’ll have tea and sort out your problem.”

Clara led the way up to the house’s porch.

Zing walked behind with Elizabeth. “Clara said you were nosy. Maybe you can help me find my friend. . .?”

***

Zing stood on the sidewalk in front of Miracle’s house. She didn’t have wicker furniture on her porch. She had six rocking chairs, each one painted a different color of the rainbow. That was when Zing knew this was the right place and the right thing to do.

Elizabeth had indeed known where Miracle lived. Once Zing had said her name was Sheila and she was a lesbian, Elizabeth had pointed her in the right direction. Miracle’s house turned out to be right around the corner.

Zing walked up on the porch and rang the doorbell. No one answered. She rang it again. This time a woman dressed in a light blue, fluffy bathrobe opened the door. She wore bunny slippers and several necklaces made of different colored plastic beads. Her hair was a rat’s nest and her eyes and nose were red and swollen from crying.

“If you’re selling religion or vacuum cleaners I don’t need any,” Miracle said. She had a thick west Texas drawl.

Zing said she wasn’t selling anything. “I need a place to stay for the next twenty-one hours. Then I have to go back to HQ. Will you help me?”

“Who are you?” Miracle looked intrigued. This pink-clad woman showing up on her door was unexpected. Miracle liked the unexpected.

“I’m a guardian angel in need of shelter, a bath, and food. And maybe a new outfit. I’m not fond of pink, but I do like the shoes. They make my feet happy. I’d like to keep the shoes.”

“Okay, well, I like guardian angels,” Miracle said.

“You should. Annabelle has saved you lots of times.”

“Who’s Annabelle?”

“She’s your guardian angel. You scare her a lot because you’re a daredevil, especially that one time when you were flying in the wind suit and almost hit the rock wall. She nearly had a nervous breakdown over that.”

“I knew she saved me! I could feel her.” Miracle took Zing’s arm and pulled her into the house. It was dark and smelled funny. It had a depressing atmosphere.