by Alicia Ryan
Charlie just stared at him with eyes the size of frisbies.
“I’m Tuesday, and this is Price,” Tuesday said, finally introducing himself to his partner in crime.
“And you obviously know what I am,” he said, narrowing his eyes on Tuesday, “but I don’t know what you are.”
“Does it matter? We’re more or less on the same side, and you won’t be seeing us any more after today – though you might see more of Charlie, if he’s welcome?”
The wolfman nodded and turned to Charlie. “There are more of us than you think, kid. A few of us hang out here, since Cookie makes us welcome.”
“Cookie?”
The wolfman nodded toward the kitchen. “Sam, the guy who owns the place. He’s a cat on the side.” He looked back at Tuesday. “And my sometimes friend is Eddie Wilson.”
“The horse?” Tuesday asked.
Wolfman nodded.
“And you’re…you’re a wolf?” Charlie asked, finally catching up to the conversation.
“That’s right, kid. Used to be real inconvenient, even worse for Eddie, before we got control of the changes. At least you’re something small. You can’t really hide a horse or a giant wolf.”
“How do you do it? How do you stop the shift?”
“Part of it is just getting older, I think. You’ll get better at it. The rest is just learning not to be afraid of it. Though I’ll admit that none of the shifters I know hang out in large crowds.” He eyed Charlie’s stylish clothes. “You don’t look like a loner, though. How do you manage it?”
Charlie shrugged. “Lots of pills and hiding in my cube as much as possible.”
“Hmm. Well, you’re always welcome here. Eddie and I work for the phone company. We’re out on the lines during the day, but we come here quite a bit – sometimes breakfast, sometimes dinner. And Sam’s always here. If you ever get in trouble, we can maybe help you out.”
“Um – wow. Thanks. I really appreciate that.” Charlie frowned. “How did you know? About me, I mean?”
“I wasn’t sure,” wolfman said, “but to me you look a little blurry around the edges. That’s how the others look, too, but like I said, we also resemble our shift shapes. That’s why I wasn’t sure about you.”
Charlie stared hard at him. “You know, now that you mention it, the edges of you are a little hazy. I wouldn’t have noticed it before.” He turned to Price. “Can you see it?”
Price shook his head. “Nope. He just looks like a regular non-blurry werewolf to me.”
Wolfman looked at Price. “But you two don’t look regular to me.” He looked back to Tuesday. “The both of you seem to glow a bit – just around the edges.”
Tuesday looked at Price for guidance on how to handle this.
“Oh, they’re angels,” Charlie answered.
The wolfman’s mouth dropped open, revealing teeth that did indeed look very fang-like. “No shit?”
Tuesday shook his head. “No, now that the cat’s out of the bag,” he said, glaring at Charlie, “no shit. Price and I are angels.”
Two wooly eyebrows drew together. “But you’re okay with…what we did?” he asked. “You’re not going to strike us down or anything, are you?”
Tuesday shook his head. “I’m okay with it. And Price doesn’t give a tinker’s damn about anybody but Price, so I’d say you’re safe.”
“Exactly what kind of angels are you, then?”
Price guffawed. “We’re guardian angels. Right now we’re Charlie’s guardian angels.”
“So we’re not here to exact vengeance or anything,” Tuesday covered.
“Looked like you were pretty intent on exacting vengeance on Red the other day.”
Tuesday lowered his head. “Let’s just say…that was not my finest moment, okay?”
“Hmm. Well, you gentlemen enjoy your breakfast. The food here kind of sucks, but I assure you the place is rodent free.” He grinned and extended a hand to Charlie. “Nice to meet you, Charlie.”
“Uh. You, too…Fang .”
The wolfman returned to his table, paid his check and left.
“I can’t believe there are more,” Charlie said. “I just can’t believe it.”
“I’d hoped it would make you feel a little better,” Tuesday replied. “Knowing you’re not the only one?”
Charlie nodded. “Not that Fang looks like the kind of guy I’d normally hang out with – well, it’s not like there’s anybody I normally hang out with – but, yeah. God, it’s really nice to know they’re here.”
Margie finally arrived with their coffees, and Price looked for a moment as if he were worshipping the ceramic mug.
“What’ll you have?” Margie tapped a pencil against her order pad, and the three of them made quick decisions on breakfast and then watched Margie stalk away and yell ‘order up’ back into the kitchen.
“I amend my earlier statement,” Price muttered. “She’s now the scariest thing in this place.”
Tuesday laughed. “So tell me, are you two making any progress figuring out what Lucian is up to?”
“Don’t worry,” Price said. “Tricia is reeling him in.”
Tuesday looked at Charlie from under raised brows. “You know, I’ve noticed Mike Orzio receives a lot of checks. Why does the head of procurement get checks? Isn’t that odd?”
“Well, not really,” Charlie said. “We buy a lot of stuff from different manufacturers which we then sell on to retail outlets. If we sell a large enough quantity, the manufacturer will often give us a rebate. Many of our procurement contracts have those provisions.”
Tuesday frowned. “That’s too bad. I was sure something was up with that.”
“Well, it may be. I think Lucian and Mike are gaming the rebate accounting so rebates are booked as income before the corresponding goods are sold. And I can’t tell if the pre-booked rebates are even accurate. That’s why I asked for verification letters from a few vendors.” He looked at Tuesday. “That’s what was in the envelope the day you showed up – the one Uncle Lucian was so mad about. He knew I was checking up on him. But just the fact that the vendors called him about my request is a little suspicious.”
Price shook his head. “Okay, I’m no math whiz, but wouldn’t they get found out eventually? It sounds like a ponzi scheme.”
Charlie nodded. “But for now, while sales are down, it’s keeping the earnings numbers up and getting Lucian and Mike and some of the sales people their full bonuses. When business picks back up, they could conceivably iron everything out in the wash.”
“Are there other vendors you could contact?” Tuesday asked.
“Yes, but I’m afraid the results would be the same. There’s quite a bit of collusion needed to actually carry this off. I could go to the board and request that our accounting firm be asked to do a full forensic audit, but Uncle Lucian would just tell them I’m incompetent and persuade them not to do it.” He hesitated. “And then he’d kill me, of course.”
Price slapped an arm around Charlie. “Not to worry, Woodchuck. Tricia is our ace in the hole. I’ve…uh…talked to her, and Lucian is already starting to slobber every time she goes into his office. He’ll be only too happy to get her alone, staying late one night. And then we’ll catch him.”
“That’s about what it would take,” Charlie assessed. “And she’d better get it on tape.”
“That can be Tuesday’s – I mean Herman’s – job. He can hold the mic.”
“Can I do anything?” Charlie asked, eyes suddenly alight.
“Better not,” Tuesday said, hating to throw cold water on Charlie when he looked so hopeful. “If things go wrong, your Uncle can’t actually kill me – and I suspect Tricia can look out for herself.”
“So when are you going to put this little plan into action?”
Price shrugged. “I think we just need to give Tricia another day or two.”
Chapter Ten
The following day passed in a haze for Tuesday until a quarter past five when he stood
outside as his true self and watched Mary Louise Johnson come out the swinging glass doors of their office building.
She’d changed from the dress he’d seen her in earlier, now wearing a wrap-around print in shades of yellow and light green. He was sure it was new. It set off her eyes and hair beautifully. He remembered the way he’d gazed at her as a kid, thinking she was the prettiest girl in school. When she saw him and smiled, he thought so again. Her hair was pulled back, her makeup subtle and flawless, and she looked carefree – in a way he hadn’t seen her look since he’d come to Strawberry.
He opened the car door for her when she approached, still going with the black Mercury.
“So where are you taking me?” she asked.
He was delighted to hear a note of eagerness in her voice. “I’ve been told there’s a decent restaurant over in Clovis at the Gray Horse Inn. Have you been there?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t been out in…a while.”
He smiled at her. “Let’s go then.”
The drive passed quickly and companionably, with him sticking to safe subjects like how she’d liked working at the diner and how it was coming back to her old job. She mostly told him things he knew or had guessed already.
“I’m actually still going to be picking up a few shifts at the diner,” she said, drawing his attention away from the road.
“Oh – why?”
“With Red gone, Sam agreed to cut my rent on the trailer lot if I’d take a few weekend shifts and be available if one of his other girls bailed.”
“That was nice of him.”
“Yeah,” she said thoughtfully, “it was.”
“Though I’ve seen at least one of the other waitresses,” he commented, “and she’s no girl.”
“You must mean Margie.” He nodded, and she summed it up. “Yeah, she’s a piece of work, but she gets the job done well enough for Sam’s clientele.”
They entered the lodge-style inn and were directed to the restaurant. It was cozy and candlelit, but with tables far enough apart private conversations could stay private. For his purposes, it was perfect, and Tuesday smiled gratefully as the hostess led them to a corner table.
After they’d ordered, Tuesday asked the question he’d been dying to for weeks. “Do you want to tell me how you wound up with a guy like Red?”
She remained silent, looking torn, and Tuesday was about to take it back, but then she started to speak.
“It’s probably a story you’ve heard before – or seen on some terrible Lifetime movie.” A self-deprecating smile. “After my family moved from Tennessee to Colorado, things went really great until I was in high school. Then my Dad lost his job and was out of work for over a year. By then, he’d gotten very used to drinking, though I had no idea how much. I think my mom knew.
“Anyway, he finally got a new job, but it didn’t last long. After that, Dad started drinking out in the open. He was miserable, and he made us miserable. My mom started spending a lot more time at her job. I think she may even have been having an affair, but I never knew for sure. I spent a lot more time at school, gradually gravitating to the other kids who had no family to go home to. By senior year, we’d become a pretty wild bunch. We were doing drugs outside some club when we first ran into Red and a couple of his friends. They were handsome; they were older. It didn’t take much for me to agree to go out with him. He wasn’t a good influence, but he had a job, and I managed to graduate. Then I really had nowhere else to go, so I moved out here with him.”
She shrugged. “I tried to leave him a couple of times, but he didn’t make it easy, and I didn’t have anybody to turn to for help. So I stayed, finally managing to get my act together and get a decent job.” She hesitated. “And Red turned into the man you met. I don’t know why it took me so long to see it – that he was just filled with rage and hate. I never did figure out why or at what. I finally just decided he was mad at the world, and the best thing I could do was work and keep my head down at home.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.”
Dinner arrived – beautiful little plates of fish and steak – and provided a momentary distraction.
“Is it wrong that I don’t miss him?” She shook her head before he could answer. “No, that’s not really what I meant to ask. I meant is it wrong that I don’t regret that he’s dead?”
Tuesday thought hard, feeling his natural instincts pulling against what he knew he should say, if he were a Good angel – some bullshit about all life being valuable.
“I’m probably not the best one to ask,” he said finally. “You might want to check with someone with a more sturdy moral compass, like a priest, but as far as I’m concerned, I don’t think it’s wrong, and I don’t blame you, not even a little bit.”
After dessert, Tuesday paid the check and offered Mary his hand.
“I’m not sleeping with you tonight,” she said, “just so there’s no misunderstanding.”
He tried to mask the fact that she’d startled him with such a bold statement, but he was glad she was feeling more comfortable being assertive.
“I’m the last person who’d take advantage of you right now, Mary,” he told her. “But I would like to ask for a dance.”
It had been on his mind since they’d come in. A giant fireplace took up most of the middle of the lobby, but a few couples had been dancing in front of the small jazz band set up in the far corner. He wanted the dance with Mary that he’d never gotten.
Mary smiled up at him. “I’d be delighted.”
All they did was move slowly together in time to the music – close, but not too close. Tuesday closed his eyes and relished the feeling of a dream come true. For just a moment, he was in junior high again, and the world had smiled on him as he’d always hoped it would.
He bent and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, you know.”
She jerked back. “Please, don’t say things like that. Don’t say things that aren’t true.”
He didn’t let her go. “But it is true. I’ve loved you since kindergarten, and I want to thank you for giving me the dance I never got – back in Tennessee.”
She moved closer, looking up at him and shaking her head. “No, it can’t be.” She stared at his eyes. “You can’t be…Herman? Herman Morrie?”
“It’s true, I’m afraid.”
She came back to rest her head on his chest, her breath coming fast. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, what are the chances?”
He didn’t know if she meant the chances of him finding her or the chances of him turning out as Tuesday.
She turned to smile up at him, eyes still wide, but all she said was, “I wanted that dance. I really did.”
He pulled her tight and blinked back tears, wondering how four little words could mean so much after so many years. It made no sense, but he decided he had to at least try to show this girl a portion of the wonder she’d just shown him.
“I have more to tell you, but we should go somewhere a little more private.”
She took his outstretched hand without hesitation and followed him out of the lobby and around to the back of the building.
“Why did you change your name?” she asked. “Or did you just not want me to know who you were?”
“No, it wasn’t that.” He checked that no one was about. “A lot of things have changed since junior-high.” He took a step back and spread his wings, willing her to see them.
“Oh. My. God.”
“Yeah, it does take some getting used to.”
“Are those real?”
“They are. Um…I’m no longer alive, Mary – not in the living, breathing, human sort of way.”
“What happened?” she asked, concern casting a shadow over her eyes.
He chuckled. “Freak accident. Not that long ago, but, like I said, lots of things have changed. I’m an angel, for one.”
“I…” She stared at his wings. “I believe you.”
“Well, that was a little easi
er than I thought.”
She raised her hand and spread her arm wide. “Those are pretty convincing.”
“So, I’m actually a guardian angel,” he said, wanting to preempt any question about the color of his wings.
“You’re my guardian angel?” She laughed bitterly. “Where have you been all my life?”
“I’m sorry,” he said, lowering his voice, “but I’m not here for you. You’re not my charge. It’s someone else – someone you know. I just saw you…I saw you, and I had to see you again. I had to try to help, even though it wasn’t precisely part of my assignment.”
“So you’re not here to stay are you?”
He shook his head slowly. “No.” He thought for a moment. “I don’t think we’re ever assigned to stay very long.”
“I knew you were too good to be true.”
“But I am true, Mary. I’m an angel that loves you.”
“Huh.” She smiled. “It sounds really nice when you say it like that.”
“I want to take you flying, Mary, if you’re game. You’ve given me what no other woman could. I’d like to return the favor.”
He saw her take a deep breath. “What do I have to do?” Her voice was trembling and had dropped almost to a whisper.
He opened his arms. “Just come here and hold on a bit. Don’t worry – I won’t let you fall.”
He felt her smile against his chest.
“If you’re for real, I’ll have to change my name to Lois Lane.”
He brought them slowly off the ground, showing her just how real he was, and then took her out to the desert and swooped and swirled until she said she was dizzy with stars.
He knew she was tiring, so, too soon, he landed them in the parking lot of Office Supply HQ, next to her car.
“Give me your keys, and I’ll drive you home,” he offered, once he’d steadied her back on her feet.
“I’d say it’s too far, but I guess you can just fly right back?”
He nodded.
She handed her keys over with shaking fingers. “Then I gladly accept.”
She fell asleep on the long, rather boring drive, but he had to wake her to ask which of the “Sunshine Estates” was hers.