by Alicia Ryan
She turned to look at Herman. “You work at Office HQ, right?” she asked. “I know I’ve seen you before. Are you new?”
Herman nodded. “That’s right,” he squeaked out. “I work in the mail room.”
“Oh, Olive’s replacement.” She extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you…”
“Oh, Herman,” he supplied, just after noticing her lack of a wedding band, “and this is my friend Price. We’re both friends of Charlie’s.”
She smiled sweetly, her green eyes alight. “I think we’ve covered that.”
She turned to Price. “Do you know why we’re waiting in the hall? Is Charlie going to be okay?”
“Actually,” Price said, “at the moment it’s kind of touch and go. I’m not sure when they’ll let us back in. Why don’t you leave the flowers with us, and we’ll make sure Charlie gets them. I’m sure he’ll be touched that you came by.”
“Well, if you’re sure…I don’t want to disturb him. Is he really going to be okay?”
“Oh yes,” Price continued, smiling. “Full recovery and all that – it’s just that he’s under a lot of sedation and they are changing some bandages. Things like that. Perhaps you’d want to come back tomorrow?”
Mary nodded. “Thanks. I think I’ll do that.” She handed the flowers to Price. “Will you two be here?”
“We’ll be where Charlie is,” Herman said.
“At least one of us,” Price added.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She waved sweetly, and then turned to retrace her steps to the elevator.
“What do you mean only one of us will be here?” Herman demanded.
“You’ve got a job in the mail room, remember? I’m just your unemployed, party animal roommate. I can be wherever I want.”
“So you’ll be here to greet her tomorrow?”
Price’s brows knit into a worried v-shape. “Are you jealous?” he asked. “How can you possibly be jealous of a woman you’ve known for all of twenty seconds? I mean, she’s cute and all…”
“I’ve known her since kindergarten.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me. Only she was Mary Louise Johnson back then, and I had a crush on her from the day we met until the day she moved away in eighth grade.”
“Whoa. That’s heavy. And she didn’t even recognize you.”
Herman sagged back against the wall. “Thanks for pointing that out. You’re a real pal.”
Price came over and put an arm around his shoulders. “I read your file, too, you know - not just Charlie’s. Is this the girl you mooned at the dance?
Herman groaned. “That’s in my file? The most embarrassing moment of my life?”
“Yep. Funny, I wouldn’t have pegged you for a dance-goer, though.”
“My father talked me into it, if you must know. I had planned to stay home reading my comic books.”
Price snorted. “Why am I not surprised?”
“I was thirteen.”
“Nerds do seem to start early.”
Herman sighed. It had been a long time, but that night was as vivid and fresh in his mind as it had been the Wednesday after it happened. He’d worn a suit his father had gotten for him the previous Christmas. They purposely got it a little big so he would be able to wear it for more than one year. Herman was thin like his father, but even then he already topped him by an inch or more, and it hadn’t seemed like he was going to stop growing any time soon.
He had tried later to remember if the suit had been purchased on a Tuesday, but he thought not. It had been an innocuous enough event at the time. But on the Tuesday in question, his father had told him the dance wouldn’t be that bad, that it might even be fun. He told him he should ask at least two girls to dance because it was the gentlemanly thing to do, and there was no way they would say no to a boy in such a fine suit. Herman listened to his father, like he always did.
To say the dance started off rocky was a classic understatement, but eventually a small number of boys and girls began to dance, separately at first, then together in smaller groups and couples. Mary Louise wasn’t dancing, and it was this fact that gave him the last bit of courage he needed to get up off his seat on the second row of bleachers.
Mary Louise Johnson wasn’t one of the really popular girls. She even occasionally spoke to Herman as they waited for English class to start. That wasn’t something popular girls did. But she had soft blond hair and big green eyes, and Herman didn’t know why she wasn’t the most popular girl in school because to him she certainly was the prettiest. That night, she stood against the far wall of the gymnasium in a white dress talking to her friend Ruth, and Herman decided to trust his father’s advice and ask her to dance. A girl like Mary Louise should be dancing.
His dress shoes clipped noisily on the gym’s wooden floor, but she met his gaze expectantly as he approached. He thought she looked worried, and a lump formed in his chest approximately the size and weight of a bowling ball. Then she smiled at him, and he swallowed the smaller lump in his throat to say hello.
At that moment, Johnnie Sugarbaker, one of Herman’s many long-time tormentors, and his two thuggish friends had struck. He didn’t know how they’d gotten behind him so fast, but one second he was opening his mouth to ask Mary Louise to dance, and the next Johnnie was yelling “Hey, Antboy, is that suit big enough?” into his left ear.
His suit was no longer too big, but it did still fit loose because he was so thin, and when they each gave a hard jerk his pants fell to the floor without much resistance. He’d whirled on Johnnie, mad enough for once in his life to fight back, but the other boys started running immediately toward the back exit. Herman bent over to grab up his pants, and it was only then he saw it wasn’t just his pants that had come down. His faced flushed with humiliation as he realized he’d just shown his bare ass to Mary Louise Johnson.
He’d grabbed his pants and undershorts, pulled them back up in one motion, not bothering with any buttons, just holding his pants closed with his hand as he ran for the boys’ bathroom at the front of the gym. He stayed in there until he was sure enough time had passed for everyone to start talking about something else. Then he left the bathroom and waited outside at the edge of the woods until he saw his father’s truck pull into the parking lot at nine o’clock.
Carl mercifully never asked him how it went, merely reminded him to hang his suit up when he got home because it was still clean, and he’d have to wear it to church that week as it was Easter Sunday.
“I never talked to her after that,” Herman said, realizing Price still had his arm around him and was apparently expecting some sort of response. “When school started back up again after the Easter break, our English teacher announced a new seating chart. Mary got moved across the room, and I was too embarrassed to speak to her the rest of the year.”
He shrugged out from under Price’s arm. “I guess she was, too. Either that or she couldn’t stand the sight of me. That summer, she and her family moved out west, and that was the last I saw of her.” He remembered he’d heard about it at a cookies and Cokes reception in the church hall, on a Tuesday.
“That is almost the saddest story I’ve ever heard.”
“Yeah. I’ve always thought so.”
“Well, we’ll just have to see what we can do about that, won’t we?” Price asked.
Herman was spared having to reply that there was obviously nothing to be done about it when Nurse Battering Ram emerged from Charlie’s room with a bag of dirty linens and a bed pan. “You can go back in now.”
Herman and Price both looked at each other.
“Since we’re angels, I guess we don’t technically NEED to go to the cafeteria, but how about a cup of coffee?” Herman asked.
“Ooh, and I bet they have doughnuts,” Price commented. “God, I love doughnuts.”
“I thought we weren’t supposed to take the Lord’s name in vain?”
Price shook his head. “The big guy and I have a special understanding when it com
es to doughnuts.”
Herman had to hurry to keep pace with Price once the prospect of doughnuts had been established. He had only one himself, quickly losing his appetite as he watched Price down half a dozen of the glazed goodies.
“You must work out.”
Price laughed, his mouth still stuffed. “Not really,” he said. “Some do, but I just keep fit the old fashioned way – I think it.”
“Huh?”
“Remember when I said you could change your clothes just by thinking different ones? That you can create physical objects out of your celestial energy?”
“Yeah, sort of,” Herman said.
“Well, it’s the same with your body. You’re doing it now without even realizing it.”
Herman looked down.
“Your brain is assuming that you still look exactly the way you did when you were alive – clothes, hair, body type, everything – so that’s the way you are manifesting.”
“Manifesting?”
“Yep. Manifesting. That’s not the real you anymore. The real you is only a spiritual being, and you can assume any physical form you’d like.”
“You mean I could look totally different?”
“Sure. Tomorrow you could be the Marlboro Man – or Angelina Jolie.”
“Ew,” Herman said wrinkling his nose.
“Not your type?” Price asked.
“Not really, no.”
“Well, she’s no Mary Chavez, that’s for sure,” Price said, winking.
“We should get back to Charlie.”
Price plunked a few bills down on the table and picked up the tiny flower arrangement Mary had entrusted to him.
Charlie glared at them as they reentered his room. “Way to bail. I thought you were here to help me.”
“We’re here to help you change your life, not avoid unpleasant hospital procedures,” Price explained. “Besides, things like that can be character building.”
Charlie glared some more.
“Okay, granted, I’m not sure I’d recommend it for suicide patients, but then you didn’t actually try to commit suicide. You fell off a building.”
Charlie sunk lower in his bed.
“Could you just leave now?” he asked.
“No. I think we need a plan,” Price said. “Oh, and here.” He thrust the flowers at Charlie and placed them on his tray. “Mary Chavez brought these for you as a little gift from your co-workers.”
“Mary came by?” Charlie asked, hope lifting his voice into a higher octave.
Herman felt a knife turn in his heart. Who was he kidding? Mary was married, and even if she weren’t, there was the small matter of him being dead. Even Charlie stood a better chance with her.
He sank down into a chair as Price explained how Mary had shown up and they’d encouraged her to come back tomorrow given his…er…delicate circumstances at the time.
“So you think she’ll come back?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t she?” Price asked.
“I was pretty sure she didn’t even know I existed,” Charlie said. “And she’s got that god-awful boyfriend. He never lets her out of his sight.”
Herman’s ears perked up at this. “Boyfriend?”
“Yeah, I don’t know what his real name is, but everyone calls him Red Bull, Red Bull Chavez.”
“So they aren’t married? She said her name was Mary Chavez.”
Charlie shook his head. “No. They’ve been together a long time, though, so maybe under some old common law type of marriage, but there’s never been a ceremony.”
“And you would know because…?” Price asked.
Charlie smiled sheepishly. “Let’s just say I keep pretty close tabs on Mary in spite of the fact that she thinks I’m part of the furniture.”
“Well, she came to bring the flowers,” Price pointed out. “That’s got to mean she at least knows you exist.”
Charlie nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Then his face fell. “Or she could have just been being nice because no one else would have bothered to bring me anything.”
“That sounds like Mary,” Herman said.
Price shot him a look.
“Nonsense,” he said, turning back to Charlie. “The woman knows who you are and cared enough to come see you in the hospital. It’s as simple as that.” He pointed a finger at Charlie. “And that, my friend, is something we can work with.”
He glanced back at Herman. “We’d have to detach her from this Red Bull character, but that shouldn’t be too hard.”
Charlie shook his head. “I think you’re wrong about that. I can’t pretend to understand why she stays with him. He’s not a nice man, but they’ve been together for years. He seems to have some sort of hold over her.”
“Hold, schmold,” Price said. “We’re angels, remember? No mere bully of a human can compete with us.”
Herman looked up, noticed the first look of cheer and hope on Charlie’s face, and felt guilt and jealousy twisting around in his insides. Some guardian angel he was turning out to be, he thought. He had to put his feelings for Mary aside. His junior-high crush had no place here in the real world – where he was supposed to be helping Charlie.
“And it sounds like we’d be doing Mary a favor?” Price asked.
“Definitely,” Charlie confirmed. “That guy is a first class jerk-off.”
“Tsk tsk, language, Charlie. You’ll never get the ladies with a potty mouth.”
Charlie laughed, and Herman took a deep breath. This is what they were here for, and Price was doing all the work. He could…he would…put his feelings aside for Charlie’s sake.
“When do you think I’ll get out of here?” Charlie asked. “There’s nothing broken.”
“Probably tomorrow,” Price said. “I’ll come by first thing, and when the doc comes in, we’ll convince him you’re good to go.”
“That’d be great.” A sudden frown creased Charlie’s young forehead. “But what about Mary? What if she comes back tomorrow and I’m not here?”
Price rolled his eyes. “Well, she does know where you work, genius.”
Charlie’s frown stayed put.
“Plus,” Price added, “if you’re not here, it gives you an excuse to invite her to your place.”
“My place?”
“Don’t tell me you live with your mother,” Price ordered. “Just do not tell me that.”
“Um, no. I have my own place, but it’s…well, pretty spare. And what about Red Bull? I can’t just ask out his girlfriend.”
“It wouldn’t really be a date – just a sympathy visit,” Herman pointed out. “Just a chance to talk to her. I could happen to run into her and offer her a lift to your place after work maybe.”
“See, now that’s a plan,” Price said. “And you let us worry about this Red Bull character.”
“So I’ll see you first thing tomorrow? You’re really not just side effects?”
“If only,” Herman commented.
“Oh, please,” Price said, scolding him. “You mean you’d rather be sitting at home alone than helping poor Charlie here? And working with me? Don’t think it for a minute.” He turned to Charlie. “We’d better skedaddle, but I’ll be back in the morning.”
Charlie nodded. “Okay. Goodnight.”
“’Night, Charlie,” Price said.
“Goodnight,” Herman added.
***
Back at their apartment, Herman put Mary out of his mind and went to check out his room. It was as deliciously soothing as he could have hoped – beige carpet, maple furniture, off-white bedspread and linens. Herman threw himself across the bed and stared up at the ceiling, unable to believe all that had happened in what was, for him, still a single day. A single Tuesday.
He looked down, thought about what Price had told him, closed his eyes and imagined himself in a pair of grey flannel pajamas.
When he opened his eyes, to his utter amazement, he was in fact wearing pj’s. Then he imagined a dollar bill in the pocket, r
eached in, and pulled out a single.
“Wow,” he exclaimed.
“So what do you want to do in here?” Price asked, sticking his head abruptly into the open doorway.
Herman looked up. “You know, for a guy, you’re awfully eager to decorate.”
Price looked around the beige room. “Well, you can’t want to live like this.”
Herman tracked the path of Price’s perusal. “What’s wrong with it?” he asked. “It’s neat, it’s clean, there’s no clutter. I like it this way.”
“It’s BORING is what it is.” Price’s eyes finally settled on Herman. “Oh, I see you got the hang of changing clothes. Easy, right?”
“Yeah,” Herman agreed. “A little too easy.” He held up the dollar bill he’d dreamed up. “What’s to stop me from thinking up a million of these and renting out an island instead of staying here in Strawberry to help Charlie the were-beaver?”
Price laughed. “Only the fact that you’re the GOOD angel, remember?”
“But you’re not. Why don’t you do it?”
“I have,” Price said. “Plenty of times. Well, not really an island and not usually when I’m supposed to be on assignment. But you can relax, H, you’ve got an eternity now. There’ll be plenty of time to party.”
“Indeed there will,” replied a dusky feminine voice from somewhere behind Price.
Herman sat bolt upright and quickly imagined himself back in his khaki pants and blue shirt.
Price turned. “Ariel. To what do we owe the pleasure of one of your visits?”
“There’s a party in hell, and you’re invited.”
Herman raced into the living room to get a look at the speaker of those intriguing, sultry words. He moved so he was standing slightly behind Price and to his left, with an unobstructed view of one of the most incredible women he’d ever seen.
She was tall and pale, with ice blue eyes, and hair so dark it, too, seemed to have a blue cast. But what really stopped the words in his throat was her red leather body suit. It fit her like a glove, with a myriad of tiny silver buckles and zips, making her body into a work of modern art.
She ran her eyes over Herman. “You’re both invited, of course.”
“When…ahem…When?” Price said, clearing his throat after his first attempt at speech came out more like a squeak.