by Jody Sharpe
“She’s your girlfriend? Ha!” She laughs one of those ‘Wicked Witch of the West’ laughs and points to the back wall of the store. “There’s some cheap cologne back there.”
“Why did you laugh like that? She’s a nice girl.”
“By your shirt I can tell you’re working for that bitch, Vicky and her jerk husband. Well, she’s just like Vicky. I can say that ‘cause I own this place, hippy. With my husband picking up, taking that damned old dog and leaving my kid and me, well, this place is mine, got it? I can say whatever the hell I want.”
“Yeah, I got it, lady, but one more thing. Where’d your husband go?”
. She has a look in her eye as she turns her head to the northeast just for half a second before she answers him.
“Damned if I know and don’t care, so why you asking? It’s none of your business, you hippy do-nothing. Why don’t you go somewhere else? Go to that little girlfriend of yours. She tried to steal my husband, so you better watch out for her!” He’s unnerved Tessa. His psychic twist tells him she’s not really a witch, just one mean ole woman.
“Thanks so much for your help. I can’t wait to meet Rich; sounds like Mr. Nice Guy!” Connor says politely. “Have a nice day.” He turns and walks to the door. He turns around again, noting Tessa’s mouth opened in astonishment. “I’ll be back with a Big surprise for you!” With that he walks out the door into the sea air and sunshine. Yep, it worked. Rich Stapleton is alive like Miss Rita-Juanita and Miss Karla knew, like Sahara had predicted and Mayor Dave Mosky was sure of. Rich Stapleton is northeast of here in the woods, hours away. Her eyes showed it all. He’ll get Barney, Dave, and Sahara and go searching. They will find him. Connor’s psychic twist, the way to measure miles in thought, like Grandma Donna taught him, will lead the way. He’ll find Rich all right, but hurt, ill, or something.
The drive is beautiful into the mountains of northern California. With Dave Mosky’s new red jeep, they drive the highway for an hour, then onto the back roads towards the east where private property is preserved just north of the San Raphael State Park. His abilities are in tune now with the game. Tessa’s head turning toward the place where she had taken her husband was as clear as day. How did she manage to do it? They would find the answers. Connor could measure as the crow flies how far he needed to go. Barney is driving Dave’s jeep as fast as the Checker Cab in Chicago he took once. The dirt roads are bumpy but not hard to drive. His psychic keen sense of direction is working now. “Turn to the north,” he says when they get to a fork in the road. They drive one more hour up and down the private roads with decrepit signs of No Trespassing. And then they come upon an area that seems to have a path, “Stop,” says Connor. And for a few minutes as they stop, Connor gets out of the car listening, smelling, and tasting the air, using all his senses as Grandma Donna taught him. He turns his head to the east once more. “The rest we must do on foot,” he exclaims. The paths are old and worn. “He’s near,” Connor tells them. Barney, Dave, and Sahara get out of the jeep. “This way,” Connor points. “Start shouting, everyone start calling his name.”
“Rich, Rich Stapleton, where are you,” Dave calls. Barney shouts, “Rich, it’s me, Barney. Rich, where are you?” But Sahara can’t speak. She’s too emotional, leaning on Connor’s arm, holding his hand, following his every step. Dave and Barney take a path off the main one, walking to the west, and Connor and Sahara move south toward a stream they can hear rippling. They hear Barney and Dave calling. Connor gives a loud whistle and he and Sahara see an old furry dog come barking out of the woods. It’s a happy bark. “It’s Amber, Rich’s dog!” Sahara shouts, now laughing, bending down, “Amber where’s your daddy?”
“Amber, show us the way,” Connor says, petting the dog.
Barney and Dave come their way hearing them talk to Amber. The dog trots back through the woods. There’s a rough path of just torn down old branches and grass. “Over here,” calls a weak voice. And then there he is, Rich Stapleton sitting with his back up against a tree, next to a very old man. “I’m here, I’m here. We’re here.” The old man looks up. A real mountain man he is, scruffy beyond anyone Connor’s ever seen. But something is wrong with Rich’s leg. It’s in a makeshift splint. Sahara almost flies to him first. “Rich, Rich are you all right? You’ve lost so much weight. What happened to your leg? Are you okay?” Sahara throws her arms around him and starts crying. Amber the dog barks her happy call.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” Barney and Dave get down on their knees and Barney examines his leg. “What happened, man? Did Tessa do this to you?” Everyone is ignoring the old man, but Connor’s not. Connor sees the old man’s surprised expression turn to sadness.
“I woke up in these woods, my leg had been broken. This great guy, Gus, found me. He’s lived here in these woods for a long time now. He’s kinda hard of hearing and can’t speak. He traps and eats off the land. He’s been here years from what I can tell. He’s kept us safe and warm in that lean-to there and made us food. Rabbits and squirrels and berries and fish; what-ever he can get. How long have I been here?” Rich seems a little dazed. Connor thinks it’s a miracle the guy survived. If the man Gus hadn’t found him, he would have been a gonner.
“Over two months,” Barney says now. “Man, it’s been rough. The FBI said you just took off so they wouldn’t help us. This fellow here is Connor. He came to town a few weeks ago, got clues from all the psychics in town and found you himself with his amazing psychic abilities. He says the town folk gave him the clues. Did Tessa do this to you?”
“Yeah. I told her I wanted a divorce and she hit me over the head with the frying pan. It’s the last thing I remember. We were sitting at the kitchen table. My son Jake was at his aunt’s. I wanted it quiet when I told her I was leaving and taking Jake. Is Jake all right?”
“Yes, he’s living at his Great Aunt Dorothy’s now. Tessa claims he’s too much for her to handle.
“Oh God,” cries Rich. “I didn’t know how I was going to get home and here you are. Gus here shook his head no when I asked him if anybody ever comes this way. Thanks to you all and, Connor, thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, sir.” Connor is pleased as can be. The man Rich is such a good man, you can tell. Sahara is overwhelmed, crying and laughing at the same time. It breaks Connor’s heart a little bit. For Sahara is his dream girl.
“Sahara, you’re all right? “
She nods and clings to him. “I was so worried Tessa had done something to you. I knew you wouldn’t leave Jake or me. Everyone knew that.” Her head is buried in his shirt.
“And to think you, Connor, used psychic ways to find me!“
As we take Rich and his dog Amber home, Connor is pleased with his calling now. A psychic detective he’ll be. Won’t Grandma Donna be thrilled! He has to leave town now. His crush on Sahara is over; it’s got to be. She’s hugging her man and crying and stroking his head. Sahara and Connor had a brief interlude, a kiss one night on the beach, just a sweet moment in time. But she loved someone else. Connor surprises himself, because he knows he truly is happy for her.
Barney is ecstatic he has his best friend back. “Man, am I going to get Tessa for this. I’m gonna arrest Tessa as soon as we get back!“
The mountain man Gus refused to go with them. But Rich promised he’d be back to see him soon as he can, bringing him a tent and food and supplies.
Rich expressed his appreciation saying, “Gus, you’ve taken care of me, saved my life. Come with me. I’ll take care of you, I promise. I can give you a happy life in our town. Everyone will love you. Amber and I need you to come with us.” The old man Gus shook his head no; tears were in his eyes. He’d been there for years, he didn’t know how long. He didn’t want to go to back to civilization. He just wanted to die in these beautiful woods, his home. His family who owned the land didn’t care about him. No one ever had. But for so long in his prayers he’d asked God to please send him a friend. And by gum, He had. His new friend Rich, and his fine dog Amber.
Yep, he had a real friend again and a dog friend too and they’ll be back to visit him. Why, maybe one day, he may even go home with Rich to that place, Sandy-By -the- Sea. It’s sounded nice to him there. Yep, maybe one day he’ll go.
Yes, all’s well that ends well, the new detective surmises to himself as he heads back. “I’ll be like those detectives on TV, solving crimes and missing persons on my travels across the country. I Connor Diamond, will be the best hippy psychic detective ever was!”
Noah reads the end again, loving the story, knowing as he reads the last page what a clever writer his father was. He turns to the acknowledgements, hoping the answer is there somewhere. Why did his dad have the affair? It’s here somewhere. Sahara was Tina, but what went down? In the novel they only kissed once, not an affair. And then it falls out; the note card he guessed had been in that bottom drawer for over thirty years, written on flowered purple- violet paper in his mother’s beautiful cursive:
Marshall,
Your book is wonderful, so creative and thoughtful. It’s only now I realize how much I’ve hurt you and why you left for a while. You put our love in your story. I promise, my darling, that I will never hurt you again. I am so truly sorry. I will only love you forever and ever. For you are the love of my life.
Josephine
Noah turns to the first page of the book. “ For my darling, my Josephine.”
Noah looks up. “Francis, now I know. They had problems. My mother had an affair, then he had one with Tina. Maybe Tina had parted ways with Phil. My psychic abilities are akin to Connor’s. Phil is twenty years her senior. I’m guessing he thought he was too old for her. Maybe everyone in her family and his thought so too. Dad and Tina had a brief affair and she kept it a secret and so did my parents. Mother forgave Dad and he forgave her. It is a love story, Francis. Their story is a love story of forgiveness and devotion. Thank you.”
I say goodbye to Noah. I tell him I’ll be near and when it’s his time to go, I’ll be there. “You have a long life to live, Noah. Now, live it with Maggie, live it with love and forgiveness.” It’s then I disappear as I see him stand bewildered, not wanting me to leave, but knowing I have to. For humans need to find their own way, make their own decisions with a little angel help along the way.
22
Goodbye
As I slip away from Noah’s to my home and take King jogging early, my heart is full of falling into love with Noah. And today? Today is the day…The Songfest for the Angels! Keeping my nerves at bay, I try to think positively about my song. My heart bursts in anticipation for the boy who had a dreamy vision of angels, about the miracle of the song they gave him to play for everyone in the world. No one has heard it but Hannah and Reverend Carlos. They say words can’t do it justice. July must be an angel. She named her baby Heather Angel. Hannah, Gabe, Chris, January, Taylor, and Josh. They are the angels in town living as humans. It’s amazing, wondrous. It’s hard to imagine what their true lives are like. Do they fly? How? Where? Are their wings gold like my dream angels or white? I look up at the morning stars with wonder and hope. Does my dream angel know them? Of course he must. Sam Blakely, who wrote the book about Hannah, didn’t realize he was right all along. How did they all pull that one off? How did they keep it a secret?
I have practice this morning at eleven with the choir and the quartet. All of Mystic Bay will be engaged in making this the best day ever. The media think it’s just The Songfest but The July North Show will surprise them all. Hopefully, the attention will be on the community center that July spoke about in our meeting. We will raise funds for the AVA Community Center. It’s the Angel Vibe Association’s community center for the children of Mystic Bay and Riverton. Riverton, southwest of town, is more in need.
The sun is not visible, just a pinkish dawn inching its’ way up the sky. Noah will be here soon to jog with his pack. I see Mr. B. walking with a small black dog in his arms. He puts her down and she walks with a limp on the path towards us. King is ready to visit this little sweetheart.
Mr. B. no longer wears his cap, though he wears a Mystic Bay shirt and jeans and his usual sneakers. His white hair tousles in the breeze. A wide grin fills his face. Before I can ask about his dog, he tells me how he heard about The Songfest TV show and that I’m singing the tune he whistled the first few days we met. “Maggie, it will be just grand!”
My heart is full, looking at my new friend. “It will be, I know. Mr. B., tell me about your dog here. Did you just get her?”
“This little one is an angel. Seraphina, I named her. Doc Josh said a car hit her and Seraphina needs a home. I hope you will take her. I have to leave after the show for a while. Will you take her to your beautiful life with your Great Grandmother and Gram for me?”
Caught totally off guard, I reply, “Well, well, yes, of course. I’ll do anything for you.” This is a surprise. Where is he going, I wonder? We can manage one more dog for sure.”
“Maggie, you can do anything you set your heart to do. I’ll always be here.”
“Mr. B,” my breath is short. “ I don’t want you to leave now. I want you to see the Songfest.” I pick up the little dog, so fragile, so obviously neglected. I can’t help it and start to cry. Why am I crying? I’ve only known Mr. B. such a short time. But meeting him each day has been comforting for me, a moment in time like having a surrogate father. He spoke gently to me. He came to my rescue with Brian that day and was always here each morning with a whistle and a smile for us.
“Maggie Joy. You were always meant to sing for the angels because of your loving heart, your ability to hear the soul of nature.”
How does he know my middle name is Joy? Does he know about the hum? Someone must have told him. Somehow I sense Noah walking this way now. I turn to see him coming down Beach Road with the dogs.
“Don’t cry, please. I promise we’ll see each other later, Maggie. I will be at the event today…and I will be cheering you onward.”
This is surreal, as if a scene from a storybook. The wind is blowing my ponytail now. Sea birds seem to gather around us. I hear the hum of the trees calling me even with the lapping of the morning waves; I hear the sounds of our beautiful life on earth. “But Mr. B., I want you to meet Noah. I’ve haven’t told you about him. He’s almost here. See him coming up the road now with all his dogs.”
“I know all about Noah. He was in your dream so long ago. Two hearts destined to be together. I have to go, but Sera, now you be good for my Maggie.” He kisses her head. Mr. Neal Beasley hands me a white feather. It’s like all the white feathers I found around our house. “You are a treasure, Maggie, one in a million,” he says as he walks away. “I’ll be seeing you and you too, my wonderful King.”
Frantic, I turn back to see Noah.
Then I turn back to see Mr. B. turn back and look at me once more. He takes off his glasses; his eyes sparkle golden light, starlight like Josh’s, Hannah’s, her dad’s, like Taylor’s and July’s, January’s and Chris’s. He turns back around and wings appear like sunlight dancing on the water…golden and bright like thousands of gold coins. I hear the rustle. I see them shine. Mr. Neal Beasley’s my angel! The angel I’ve been with in my dreams. Then he is gone in a whip of light. There’s nothing left where he stood but some glittering gold like someone has thrown golden confetti.
“Mr. B., Mr. B.,” I call, running with King by my side and Sera in my arms, but Mr. B is gone. I keep running and running until I hear Noah shouting, “Maggie, what’s wrong? Maggie, stop!”
I stop turning back to Noah who is running towards me now with Nursie and Murph in his arms and his other three on the leash. He catches up to me, completely out of breath.
“Maggie, what happened? Why were you running with that little dog?”
I’m crying. “Did you see him? Mr. Beasley? Did you see him?”
“Who? No, Maggie, all I see is you and the dogs.”
“Mr. Beasley is my guardian angel. He disappeared. He has golden glowing wings. I saw my angel! I kn
ow him like you know your angel, Francis. Neal Beasley was the angel who flew me to see you in the childhood dream!”
The clock tower tolls seven and I feel like I am flying, flying with pure joy.
23
Songfest For The Angels
There’s a feeling in the air today, a feeling of complete happiness as July North is introduced. “It’s The July North Show from the beautiful seaside town of Mystic Bay, California! And here she is, July North!” July sweeps up the bandstand wearing white jeans, jeweled sandals, and a blue tee shirt. Her hair is tied back in a perfect ponytail. Her face is aglow. It’s angel’s glow, isn’t it? For some reason, only I can see it. How extraordinary! I’m the one to see these things now and to keep the quiet knowledge between Noah and me. Angels really live as humans here.
July waves and shouts, “Hello,” as she stands next to white whicker chairs on the bandstand, welcoming her viewers and the town. Jumbotrons are set at opposite ends of Main Street, and it’s closed to traffic. There are lawn chairs and beach blankets and people old and young with kids and babies in strollers. Some people have brought their dogs. A few media are probably here, but really only the TV crew is evident. Townspeople and tourists line the streets. Many have gone to their rooftops as the Jumbotrons can be seen for over a half mile. On the rooftops of houses and buildings, our neighbors have a great view of the town, the ocean, and the greatest TV Show ever to be seen by millions. Whoever is watching from our country and from around the world will have reactions, but what will they be, I wonder. Will there be epiphanies? Will it bring more hope to the world, more peace, more joy, more love? Will other children see angels? We can only wish it so.
Mayor Willie Walin stands by the other whicker chair and the big show begins. “Welcome, everybody!” July almost sings. The cheering finally calms down. “We’re revisiting Mystic Bay, California, the lovely town by the seaside, where people are doing the works of angels. The Angel Vibe Association has done great work, as those of you know who saw my last show here. They’re volunteering, fostering children, and adopting those in need. They’re helping the homeless and doing good, random acts of kindness. My guest today, the honorable long-time mayor of this fair town is Willie Walin. Welcome Mayor!” July’s shiny gold earrings sparkle in the sun. Willie is wearing the town’s blue tee-shirt also. There is a large stage built for us to their left where the choir and I, with the San Francisco quartet, will sing and play. A beautiful piano is placed on the stage for Benny. We sit in chairs, also wearing the bight blue tee shirts. Like July, my hair is in a ponytail, as the breeze blows soft and sweet.