Angel Angst

by Abby L. Vandiver

  She didn’t give a response to Divit’s conclusions, they’d already had that conversation and Sunny wasn’t buying into any of it. Instead, she got to work on getting a copy of the pictures over to the police station.

  Sunny didn’t close the door to the room, or bother to turn on the overhead lights, she knew her way around her darkroom better than she knew the back of her own hand. She walked over to the dry side of the room, and flipped the switch on the dim amber safelights.

  Sunny looked again at the strip of negatives, trying to see if there wasn’t a better picture. One that would clear her name. But she knew that was futile. There wasn’t anything there that showed the couple standing together. Or when Fleming got shot. The only clear picture was the one that showed those five-inch heel shoes of hers laying horizontal to the ground. And that, Sunny knew, guardian angel or no guardian angel, wasn’t going to be good enough to prove her innocence.

  Still she got to the task at hand. She selected a negative from the contact sheet she’d make earlier and inserted it into the enlarger. Chewing on the side of her tongue, she concentrated as she lowered the enlarger’s lamphouse onto the carrier, set the adjustable easel blades for an 8 x 10 image, and released the locking screw until the picture was in focus. Using the grain focuser she ensured the sharpest possible focus of the image – which she knew, wasn’t saying much.

  Once Sunny felt she had achieved the clearest image she could, she stopped the aperture of the lens down to f/8. She placed a sheet of the printing paper in the slot of the easel, closed it and set the timer for forty-five seconds. Marking each second with a tap of her foot, the buzzer going off still jostled her. She looked over at Divit, who waited patiently for her, then back to her pictures. She was happy with how clear they appeared and knew she couldn’t do anything to make them any better. It was rare that Sunny utilized any secondary printing controls to make her images picture perfect, and this time was no different.

  Placing the pictures she’d chosen into a brown envelope, Sunny asked Divit, “You ready?”

  “Yep. You got everything?”

  “Oh.” She stopped. “No. Glad you said something.” She turned around and went over to her drying station and opened the drawer. “The contract,” she said and waved the paper in the air. “For the shoot I did this morning. It’ll prove that I had a reason to be there.” She stuffed it into the envelope with the photos.

  “So now is that everything?” Divit asked.

  Sunny nodded. “I know it isn’t much to prove my innocence with, but yep, I have everything now.”

  “As long as it’s enough to keep you from going to jail.”

  “There’s no reason for me to go to jail,” Sunny said. “I didn’t do anything. But,” she waved the envelope, “let’s just keep our fingers crossed.”

  But before the two could turn around to leave out of the room, a bright white light came from the darkness of the studio behind them. It grew in intensity and width as it whooshed into the room. It swirled around bathing the room with a soft glow and leaving a trail of sparkling lights that that drifted over Sunny and Divit showering on them a calming and warming effect.

  “Is this what happened earlier?” Divit said, excitement making his wiggle all over.

  “Yes,” Sunny said holding her breath. “And then I found the feather.”

  “Heavenly Father,” Divit said a smile wide on his face, and crossed himself.

  Then the effervescent light branched off into different parts of the room flickering, twinkles of shiny white seemingly dancing as it moved back to into a ball of radiance and slowly started to lose its energy, a silhouette forming as the light waned.

  Divit nudged Sunny. “Those are wings!”

  “I don’t think so,” Sunny said. She moved in closer to Divit, shut her eyes, and tucked her head into his shoulder. “They couldn’t be.”

  “Wait, they’re gone!” He wiggled his shoulder, nudging her. “Look. It’s turning into that guy. The man in the suit.”

  Sunny turned her head enough to open one eye and look. “You mean the man in the jeans.”

  “I knew it!”

  The light that had condensed into a silhouette had now turned into a 3D image of a man. And then into a man of flesh and blood. The same man that had visited the store earlier that day.

  “He listens,” the man said stepping forward. “And here I am.”

  “Oh Heavenly Father!” Divit crossed himself again then looked at Sunny. “I told you so,” he said and hit her arm.

  “Oww!” Sunny yelped.

  “Oh sorry,” Divit said, he rubbed her arm and then lowered his voice. “But I told you. He’s an angel.”

  “I see that,” Sunny said out the side of her mouth. “What am I supposed to do with him?”

  Divit looked at the angel, and rubbed his hands together. He cleared his throat. “I am Divit.” He used a voice deeper than his own. “Divit Chowdary.” He stuck out a tentative hand, undecided whether to stick it out, he let it fluctuate back and forth.

  “You are known.”

  Divit eyes got big and he looked at Sunny. “He knows me!”

  “Do you know me?” Sunny asked.

  “There are none not known to us,” the man said.

  Sunny wagged her head and looked at Divit. “Sooo . . . Looks like he knows everybody.” She made a step closer. “Are you my guardian angel?”

  “I have been commanded concerning you, to guard you in all your ways.”

  Divit stepped up next to Sunny. “That’s from the Bible,” he said in a strained whisper, excitement in his voice. He bumped her. “He’s quoting the Bible.”

  “I know,” Sunny said. “It’s the psalm I said this morning.”

  Divit turned his head, his body stiff and spoke into Sunny’s ear. “I told you,” he said louder than a whisper making Sunny pull her head away. He moved in closer. “You summoned him.” Then he turned back to the angel.

  Sunny turned and looked at Divit, eyes wide, then over to the angel. “Yeah. But what am I supposed to do with him?”

  “First we find out who he is.” Divit spoke up, his voice going even lower. “What is your name?” he said slowly as if he was speaking to someone who spoke a different language.

  “Ramiel.”

  “Rahm-I-el,” Divit whispered saying each syllable with awe. “Oh my goodness.” He looked back at Sunny. “He’s an archangel.”

  “What does that mean? I don’t know the differences in the kinds of angels.”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Divit said. “So, Ramiel-”

  But before Divit could get the words out of his mouth, the angel disappeared, then reappeared at Sunny’s side. He leaned in close to her. “You have seen. Now believe.”

  And then he was gone.

  Chapter Eleven

  As soon as the angel left, Divit stepped in front of Sunny and put his face up to hers. “I can’t believe we just saw an angel!”

  Sunny didn’t move, her eyes shimmered with excitement, and a smile crept across her face. “I’m the one that didn’t believe, remember?” she said, the words coming out slowly. “But I do now.”

  “It’s unbelievable,” Divit said.

  “It is unbelievable.”

  “You have a guardian angel.”

  “I. Have. A. Guardian angel.”

  “And he is an archangel.” Divit put his hands on his temple. “Ramiel was one of seven archangels in the Book of Enoch.”

  Sunny squinted her eyes. “There’s no such book in the Bible.”

  “It’s non-canonized.” Divit waved his hand. “There are other places to read about angels. Some literary works list his name as Uriel. But it’s him. I know it. And archangels are considered to very powerful spiritual beings.”

  “Powerful?” Sunny asked, a gleam in her eye.

  “Powerful.” Divit’s said confidently, his eyes matching hers.

  The two stared at each other momentarily, both trying to absorb what happened.

>   “If I hadn’t seen him with my own eyes . . .” Sunny said. She drew in air through her nostrils, blinked her eyes tightly, and tried to break out of her daze. “Do you think he came to help me out of this mess?”

  “Of course he did,” Divit said. “Wasn’t that your prayer?”

  Sunny contemplated on what exactly it was she had asked for. “You know,” she said and clucked her tongue. “I don’t know. I think I just said a prayer to get me out of there safely. I didn’t know then that the police would be after me. Maybe my prayer doesn’t cover that.”

  “I think it covers the whole thing.”

  “You think so?”

  “Well, he’s still here, right? And you’re already safely out from the place where it happened, so if he’s sticking around, it must be for a reason.”

  “Okay,” Sunny stood up a little straighter and smiled. “I like that. I-I think you’re right.”

  “I like it too,” Divit said. “And I am right.” Divit smacked his hands together. “Wait until I tell the guys at graduation tomorrow.”

  “You can’t tell anybody,” Sunny said and frowned.

  “What? Why?”

  Sunny grunted. “I don’t know.” She held up her hands. “Who’s going to believe us?” She shook her head. “And doesn’t it seem like we’re supposed to keep it a secret? I mean, he disappeared earlier when he came to the studio as soon as that detective came in.”

  “This is too good not to share.”

  “He’s my angel,” Sunny said. “If you want to tell someone about one, get your own.”

  Divit laughed. “Okay. Mum’s the word.” He turned an imaginary key over his mouth. “What are you going to do with him?”

  “What do you mean?” A look of confusion came across her face. “I mean, he’s here to help me. I don’t have to do anything. He’ll just protect me. That’s his job, right?”

  “Yes. A job he’s had, the only job he’s had, all the way from the time man was first created. So he should be pretty good at it.”

  “Very good at it,” Sunny added.

  “So he’ll know exactly what to do to get you out of trouble.”

  “Okay. Good.” Sunny tilted her head and put her hands on her hips. “So why did he talk like that?” Sunny asked

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know. Like the Old Testament.”

  Divit laughed. “He did, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah. That was strange. But I don’t care how he talks,” Sunny said. “As long he takes care of all this stuff.”

  “He will,” Divit nodded an affirmation. “So, you ready to go and give the detective your pictures.”

  Sunny frowned. “I don’t have to give him these pictures now. My angel – what’s his name?”

  “Ramiel.”

  “Yeah. Ramiel, is going to help me.”

  “No. I think you should still take those pictures to him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you said you would.”

  “That’s before I knew I had protection.”

  “I think you should be careful, God doesn’t reward people that don’t keep the law. You be bad, and you’ll be like Lot’s wife, who also had angels helping.”

  “Turned into a pillar of salt?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Okay.” Sunny turned on her heels and walked out of the darkroom. “Let’s go take the detective these pictures.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Sunny and Divit sat in two orange, plastic bucket chairs in the lobby of the police station for nearly an hour before Detective Phillip Dunley appeared from out of a two-toned green, paint peeling, hallway. The florescent lights in the ceiling were buzzing, probably because they were old like everything else in the place.

  The little space was cold. It felt like there wasn’t any heat on, leastways in the small, congested area where they were told to wait. When the two first arrived, Sunny went over to the desk and talked into the little hole in the bullet proof glass window to one of the officers on duty, who told them to sit and wait. But the long wait had drained all the confidence Sunny had built up when she’d first arrived, and she was starting to fidget and play with the curls in her hair.

  When the detective came in Divit let out an audible sigh, but Sunny sucked in a breath and held it. Worried, suddenly, about what he might say.

  The detective pulled the pictures out of the envelope Sunny had handed over. He slowly studied each one – slid it off the top of the pile, placed it underneath and looked at the next one. There were only a few pictures for him to shuffle through and when he finished, he glanced up at Sunny.

  “Is this it?” he asked.

  “It’s enough to show that she was behind a camera. A thousand feet away,” Divit said.

  The detective looked at her. She jabbed Divit with her elbow, and swallowed before correcting him. “It was about 500ft away,” she said. “I was using a 100-400mm and a crop factor of 1.4.” Sunny looked at Divit and back at the detective. “I couldn’t have shot from a thousand feet away. But the pictures do show that I was behind the camera.”

  Phillip Dunley studied Sunny momentarily, and she could feel her hand wanting to go up to the top of her head, find a curl and start to twirl it. But she didn’t. She didn’t know if the detective had caught on to her tell earlier, and she didn’t want him to see how nervous he made her.

  “So,” he said breaking his silence. “I’m going to keep these pictures and have our Crime Lab take a look at them.” He stuffed them back in the envelope.

  Sunny hunched her shoulders. “They’re yours. I printed them for you. But believe me, I wouldn’t have called in, or gave you those,” she pointed to the envelope, “if I was guilty of anything.”

  “You mean anything like murder?” the detective asked.

  Sunny let her eyes roll up. This man was as bad as Divit. “Yes, anything like murder?”

  “She couldn’t ever do anything like that,” Divit said.

  “Don’t I remember you from this morning?” the detective said. “From the Painted Light studio.”

  “Yes. That was me.”

  “And who are you?” Detective Dunley asked.

  “Divit Chowdary.”

  “And why are you here?” the detective asked.

  “He’s here with me,” Sunny spoke up. “Are there rules to who can come into the police station?”

  A smirk came over the detective’s face.

  Sunny ignored it. “What about my lens cap?” she asked, wanting to cut all ties to this place and the detective.

  “What about it?” the detective asked.

  “You said I could get it back.”

  “Did I say that?”

  “Yes,” Sunny looked down at her hands. He made her so nervous, and unsure of herself, still even though her demeanor didn’t exude confidence, she wanted to try and speak up for herself. “You did say that.”

  “I didn’t say today, I’m sure.”

  Sunny raised her eyes and looked at him.

  “Because,” he said. “I need to have it processed.”

  “Processed?”

  “For fingerprints. DNA. Make sure you didn’t leave any blood on it from our victim.”

  Sunny turned her head and looked at the door. Ready to go, she didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything.

  “Okay, Ms. Leibowitz,” the detective said with an exaggerated sigh. “If you don’t have anything else you want to show me, or you’re still not ready to confess, I’ll take these to our lab and have them take a look at them.” He held up the envelope with the pictures inside. “And I’ll be back in touch with you.”

  “That man is going to drive me crazy,” Sunny said after they’d left from inside, and was standing right outside the door of the police station. “I mean, I did what I thought was right. I called the police and let them know that a woman’s body – Fleming Bennett’s body – was out there. I gave them my pictures. What does he want from me?”

&n
bsp; “No good deed goes unpunished,” Divit said.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Divit hunched his shoulders. “Good guys don’t always win.”

  “Oh my goodness, are you going to talk in parables? Don’t be like the angel, speak English. I don’t know what the heck you’re talking about.”

  “It means you’re in big trouble and there really isn’t anything you can do about it.” He looked at her. “And nothing I said was a parable. Do you know what that word means?”

  “I’m going home,” Sunny said, she turned and walked briskly off headed toward her VW.

  “What are you going to do?” Divit trotted to catch up with her.

  “Nothing,” she answered, head straight forward, not a break in her stride.

  “Nothing?” Divit asked.

  “Nope. Nothing.” Sunny had made it to her car, and pulled the door opened. “I’m going to let my angel take care of it.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sunny and Divit drove home in silence.

  She dropped him off at his basement apartment and then went the rest of the short distance chewing on her tongue and trying to figure out what she had done to warrant such a fate.

  “And if I have to keep that detective off my back all by myself, what do I need a guardian angel for?”

  She flicked on the blinker and turned into her driveway.

  “Ramiel,” she whispered as she walked into her studio. “Do you come when I call?” She stopped and listened. “Or do you just pop in when you get ready?” She slowly turned around in the room and drew in a large whiff of air.

  Nothing.

  No bright lights. No cryptic comments.

  Sunny let out a sigh and went to check on her darkroom and shut down the computers and lights of her studio.

  She went upstairs and found Duke staring at the wall in her bedroom.

  “What could be on that wall that would keep you from coming and meeting me at the door?” She kneeled down next to him, and tried again to see what it was he saw. Not seeing anything, she patted and said, “Well, everything else in my life is crazy right about now, why not my dog?”