by Terry Lee
Commotion filtered the massive lobby. A self-playing grand piano off to one side pounded an upbeat rendition of Stardust. Several small groups of people loitered around, smiling, shaking hands and engaging in conversation. Others waited patiently for elevators and greeted those exiting when the doors opened. Creating a bustle of activity, the people in the lobby seemed genuinely happy, not hurried or the least bit stressed.
Angela steered her toward the front desk. Quinlan couldn’t help but notice a giant Mr. Clean-looking black man sweeping the highly polished floor, clothed in a sky blue jumpsuit.
“May I see your ID, please?” asked the female at the front desk.
Quinlan broke her gaze away from Mr. Clean and produced the bracelet, which was scanned and returned to her.
“Wait here.” Angela turned and left Quinlan’s side.
Studying her surroundings, she squinted. The walls and floors were finished in a greenish-brown patina gloss, making it difficult to distinguish where floors ended and walls began. An Alice in Wonderland optical illusion, on top of Quinlan’s astigmatism, further distorted her vision. She blinked hard, recognizing the high probability of running into a wall. How embarrassing. She grabbed her notepad.
Caution –walls/floors—station building
She folded her arms and felt a twig poking out of her sleeve. She quickly worked it free, feeling terribly disheveled and conspicuous. Quinlan blew out relief when Angela returned.
“Okay, Edward made it back with your bag. At least he got that right.” Angela’s lip’s pulled back tightly. “It’ll be a miracle if he gets his green parachute. This is his third go-round as escort trainee.”
Quinlan secretly pulled for Eddie. The young man needed some guidance. Maybe she could offer some suggestions. For starters, like how to hold a conversation.
“Next, you report to the auditorium.” Angela smiled. “Initial orientation, nothing to worry about. General rules, that sort of thing.”
Another orientation? Dread. “How long will that take?”
Angela raised an eyebrow. “You have plans?”
“Uh…no. Of course not.” Tons, Quinlan thought.
“Let’s see, that’ll take about an hour and then,” Angela checked her clipboard, “you’ll be done for the day. Also, now that you’re here, you’ll be operating on Earth time.”
With the end of the first day finally in sight, Quinlan released the breath she felt she’d been holding for hours.
~~~
The auditorium nearly full, Quinlan took a seat toward the back. People of all ages filled the rows in front of her. An enormous screen covering the entire stage lowered from behind red velvet swags. The lights dimmed to twilight and the taped orientation began.
After the session ended, Quinlan slipped out the nearest door and found Angela talking to handsome Mr. Clean with the spotless light blue jumpsuit.
“There you are.” Angela said. “How was it?”
Quinlan opened her mouth to speak but Angela waved before she could answer.
“Never mind. We’ll talk later. I want you to meet Thomas.” She swung her gaze toward the man standing beside her. “He’s our ground patrol supervisor.”
Quinlan’s mouth fell open. She immediately slammed it shut.
Thomas, the exquisitely tall, distinguished-looking black man, sported a shiny head and a diamond stud in his left ear. He extended a Shaq-size hand. “You thought I worked in maintenance, right?” his laugh boomed. “Happens all the time.”
He’d noticed her too! Quinlan placed her hand in his. “Oh no, not at all,” she lied. Warm fingers closed around hers, radiating heat up her arm and through her body. A sugary smell filled the air around her. She’d never seen a jumpsuit pulled off quite so elegantly. Another mental note.
Handsome man in jumpsuit attire–possible supervisor
“Thomas, this is Quinlan. She’s the special case….” Angela coughed. “Excuse me…I mean, assignment I told you about.” She flashed eyes at Thomas.
“It’s a pleasure.” Thomas held her hand a second longer before releasing, his smile mesmerizing. “Let me know, Ms. Quinlan, if there’s anything I can do for you.”
“Thank you,” Quinlan mumbled, her hand suspended in air where Thomas had left it. Wow. Such a gentleman, Quinlan thought. And so…handsome.
“Time to go.” Angela grabbed Quinlan’s elbow, breaking her eye-lock on Mr. Clean. “Later, Thomas.”
Thomas nodded.
“It was a pleasure—” Quinlan started until Angela yanked harder on her elbow.
“C’mon, I said we’ve got to go,” Angela said. “Thomas has that effect on women. Smells like lemon drops, right?”
“Cotton candy.”
Angela released her hold on Quinlan and jumped into her brisk pace. “Okay, forget about Thomas for a minute. Tell me what you learned.”
“Let’s see.” Quinlan shook the sugary sweet smell from her head and reached for her notepad. “We assist, guard, protect, comfort, support and intercede.”
“For the purpose of?”
“Personal growth and development,” Quinlan answered.
“And, under no circumstances, do we….”
“I know I wrote that down somewhere.” Quinlan fumbled through her notes.
Angela halted, causing Quinlan to plow into the woman in white. “Here it is.” She looked up into icy blue eyes that could cut through steel.
“Go on,” Angela said.
“We’re not allowed to interfere with free-will and lessons or challenges to be….” she flipped to the next page, “learned.”
“Study that one tonight.”
“Well, I thought I’d go over most of my notes—” Quinlan flipped back through the pages of her notepad.
Angela planted her hands on Quinlan’s shoulders. “I said, study that one!”
“Okay.” Quinlan drew out the word, pouting. She felt five. Geez.
~~~
After delivering Quinlan to her new living quarters, Angela pulled a cell phone from her pocket and punched numbers.
“She’s here. Just wanted to let you know,” Angela said.
“And the trip?” Mary asked.
“Pretty uneventful. Except for the landing, of course.”
“Her escort?”
“Edward.” Angela smirked and shook her head.
“Ah yes, Edward.”
“Uh-huh. Third time this month…fourth, according to him.” Angela chuckled. “I think our Mr. Friendly Skies escort needs to repeat landing procedures.”
“You may be right.”
“He’s going to set a record at this rate.” Angela stood with her hand on her hip.
“Now Angela—”
“I know. We’re not keeping track.”
“Do work on your patience with him,” Mary requested.
“I’ll try,” Angela said. “Hey, liked the flashy eyeglasses.”
“As you know, the glasses are standard procedure. The bling was Maggie’s idea.”
“Nice touch.” Angela stifled a yawn, realizing Quinlan had zapped her energy supply.
“Keep me posted,” Mary said.
“I will.” Angela paused. “Say hi to George and Maggie.”
CHAPTER 29
QUINLAN AND ANGELA
For the next week Quinlan morphed into Angela’s shadow. Her first assignment: protect, comfort and guard.
“I’m starting with the easier ones—best to get those under your belt.” Angela led Quinlan to a busy intersection. “Here, you have two choices.” Angela moved to the middle of the crosswalk. “You hold up your arm with a commanding presence, like this.” Angela stuck her arm in the air with the fervor of an Amazon princess. “This protects those crossing the street.”
Quinlan scratched her head. “Wouldn’t a whistle help?”
Angela’s posture stiffened. “Uh…no. This isn’t elementary school.”
Quinlan’s head sunk into her shoulders. “So what’s the other option?”
> “Walk them across.” Angela ever so lightly placed an arm around the shoulder of a head-phoned teenager crossing the street. “Like this.”
She scribbled in her notebook. “Stop traffic or escort across.”
Angela stood in front of her, arms crossed, foot tapping. “You know, you don’t have to write everything down.”
Sticking her pen behind her ear, Quinlan stuffed the notepad in her pocket. “I always have lists.”
“Just because you’ve always done something one way doesn’t mean it’s the only way.” Pause. “Write that down?”
“Why?”
The ground patrol squinted, yanked a miniature iPad from her pocket and made her own notation.
~~~
That afternoon Quinlan sat precariously perched on the hood of a car. “I feel like a hood ornament.”
“You are a hood ornament. It’s another way to protect, guard and comfort.”
“Are you sure I can protect this way?” Quinlan wiggled around on the Velcro mat attached to the hood of the car. “It’s not exactly what I expected.”
“Meaning what?” Angela asked.
“I don’t feel very…secure. Don’t I need a seat belt?”
“Just sit tight. There are straps to go across your ankles if you wish, but it’s not necessary.” Angela’s eyes held a twinkle of mischief.
Quinlan’s muscles tense, her posture rigid. A hood ornament? Really? “What about protection?”
“Like bumper pads?” Angela smirked. “You are the protection.”
Angela’s sarcastic laugh chilled Quinlan.
“Don’t be such a wuss.”
Easy for you to say, you’re not sitting on the hood of a car. “I just thought—”
“Be off!” The car leapt forward at the command. Quinlan grabbed the mat beneath her, the pen behind her ear flying off into the wild blue yonder.
~~~
Day two. Quinlan spent the morning on a school playground observing Angela comfort children suffering from scraped knees, bullies or other childhood boo-boos.
In the afternoon she practiced her compassion skills at a nursing home. The day ended at a hospice facility adjacent to the nursing home. She stood at the bedside of an elderly woman, her body ravaged by the ugliness of cancer, a subject Quinlan remembered well.
On Angela’s suggestion, Quinlan placed her hand over the woman’s. A few minutes passed. The dying woman opened her eyes and found Quinlan’s. Her lips parted in a brief smile.
“She can see me?” Quinlan asked, returning the smile.
“Yes,” Angela said. “Her physical journey is almost complete. She’s started the transition. She can see you because….” Angela paused. “It’s like when you saw Meghan. One foot has already crossed over. For this short time, she’s part of both worlds. As you were,” Angela added.
“Wow,” Quinlan said, exiting the nursing home. Her voice softened. “She looked so peaceful.”
“She is at peace,” Angela said. “Now she’s let go of her Earthly fears.”
Quinlan grew thoughtful. “I never realized there’d be so much…awareness when someone dies.”
“Remember when you waited until Grace left the room before you took your last breath? You wanted to spare her, didn’t you?” Angela smiled, knowingly. “You had that awareness.”
Her skin tingled. “But, how did you….” Of course Angela knew. Pulling her trouble-shooting chart from her pocket, Quinlan fanned her face. “This is deep stuff.”
Angela bumped Quinlan’s arm. “Did you think you were going to jump right into your own agenda?”
“Not really.” A big fat lie. How much does she know? Quinlan wondered.
“Remember: guard, protect and comfort.” Angela used her index finger for emphasis. “Very important.”
“I see that.” Quinlan two-stepped to keep up with her ground patrol’s pace. “It’s just… well, I didn’t know I’d have so much to learn.”
Angela quirked her eyebrows. “Oh, we’re just getting started.”
What could be worse than being shot out of a cannon, or being a hood ornament? Dread filled her. Oh no….
Angela stopped in front of Quinlan’s living quarters and checked her watch. “It’s four o’clock now. Meet me back here at eight.”
“For?”
“Guard duty.”
~~~
Shortly after eight o’clock, Quinlan learned the meaning of guard duty—a far cry from school-crossing patrol; no stopping traffic, no walking kids across the street…no such luck. Guard duty had her and Angela perched high on a cornice board in the nursery of a sleeping rosy-cheeked baby boy. Framed prints of cartoon dump trucks and tractors hung on the sponge¬-painted cornflower walls. Soothing rain forest sounds whispered from the white noise machine.
Quinlan took deep breaths, smelling the freshly decorated room. “I don’t like this,” she moaned, both of her hands iron gripping the cornice board.
“What’s wrong now?” Angela asked.
“I’m afraid of heights.” She licked her dry lips.
“You’re afraid of heights.” Angela threw her hands up. “Well, I’ve heard it all now.”
“Please.” A thin bead of sweat lined her upper lip. “Don’t do that.”
“What. Like this?” Angela flailed her arms like a wave at a football game.
“I think I’m going to be sick.” Quinlan wrestled one hand away from the vice-grip on the cornice board and covered her mouth. Her face paled.
Angela stopped mid-wave. “You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“But you’re supposed to have….” Angela shook her head, then made another notation on her iPad. She peered intently at Quinlan. “So the flight down must have been—”
“Surprisingly, not as terrifying as I thought.” Quinlan wiped her upper lip. “I’m still not sure how I managed that.”
“And the hood ornament exercise?”
“Terrifying.”
“Hmmm.” Angela nodded and returned the mini device to her pocket. “Would you be more comfortable on the floor?”
“Could we?”
“There’s no rule about being up here near the ceiling,” Angela said. “It’s just so boring on the floor.”
“I do boring,” Quinlan’s puppy dog expression pleaded.
With a snap of Angela’s fingers the two floated down to the Thomas the Train floor mat near the baby’s crib.
“Better now?” Angela asked.
“Much. Thank you.” Quinlan glanced at the video baby monitor mounted on the wall. So far no alarms had sounded by the extracurricular activity in the nursery.
Grateful to be on the ground, she breathed and leaned back, her hand touching the tip of a pacifier on the Thomas mat. She returned the soother to the baby’s side and remained with Angela in guard position for the remainder of the night.
~~~
In the wee hours of the morning, Angela walked Quinlan to her sleeping quarters. Sunrise intensified by the minute, growing brighter and sharper, visibly improving as night cast off.
“Get some rest,” Angela ordered, advice she needed to heed as well. Watching a weary Quinlan enter the building, she pulled out her cell phone and headed to her office.
“Hi Maggie, how’s the café going?” Angela asked.
“Absolutely fabulous.” Maggie’s English accent soothed Angela’s worn nerves.
“Good. Glad to hear it. Listen. I’ve been working with this special assign—”
“Quinlan,” Maggie said.
“Yes, Quinlan—”
“She’s as rare as hen’s teeth, that one is,” Maggie said.
Angela laughed. “She’s special alright. So, what’s the deal with her and heights? That shouldn’t be—”
“Only completed forty-eight percent of the Veils of Self-Deception procedure.”
Angela halted. “She what? Only forty-eight percent? You’re kidding.”
“Luvvy, why would I joke about that?”
The puzzle pieces connected. “Well, that explains a lot.” Angela rubbed her eyes.
“You didn’t pick up on that little tidbit in her profile?” Maggie asked.
“The case summary arrived last week. I’ve spent so much time with her I haven’t had a chance to read it.”
“You must do it at once. It’s an interesting read.” Maggie chuckled.
Angela yawned. “I’ll read it tonight. I’m beat.”
“It’s a pity you have to take her through the entire required training,” Maggie said. “Her being a special assignment and all.”
“I know,” Angela said. “It’s a bummer.”
“Mary explained the reasoning behind their decision. Want to hear it?”
“Enlighten me.” Angela twirled a curl around her finger.
“Mary and George decided it imperative she have the full training for her own safety…and everyone else’s, I imagine.” Maggie’s jovial tone turned serious. “If she managed to slip through the system and left to her own devices…well, I don’t even want to go there….” Maggie’s voice trailed off.
“Good point,” Angela said. “She’s already an accident waiting to happen.”
“Where are you in the training module?” Maggie asked.
“We’ve finished guard, protect and comfort. The rest of the week will be assist, support and intercede.
“Well, well,” Maggie said. “I’d say you’re in for an interesting next couple of days.”
“Yes, I agree.” Angela said. “Thanks Maggie. Take care.”
Angela flipped her phone closed. “Geez, and I thought Edward was a mess.” She ran her fingers through her loose curls. “It’s going to be a long week.”
CHAPTER 30
QUINLAN
“What we’ll work on for the rest of the week is assist, support, and intercede, which involves the power of suggestion,” Angela said.
Quinlan sat in Angela’s office, bored.
“You need to pay close attention.” Angela said. “This part can get tricky.”
Tricky? How much more had she signed up for? She’d been shot out of a cannon with a parachute strapped to her back, posed as a hood ornament on a speeding car, and performed a balance-beam routine on a cornice board.