Angel Gifts

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Angel Gifts Page 5

by Mia Rodriguez


  “I don’t recognize your name. You’re just a child. Are you a somebody or the daughter of a somebody?”

  “Of course I’m a somebody like everyone in the world and beyond is.”

  Eben Worthington let out an exasperated snort. “I don’t mean like that. I mean if you’re important?”

  “Not in the way you define important.”

  Eben Worthington grimaced. “Then get off the podium!” he retorted. “I need to finish my speech.”

  “You don’t need to finish some meaningless speech. You’ve got much more important things to do.”

  “How dare you!!!” he roared. “Do you know who I am?”

  “The more important question is, do you know who you are?”

  “I’m Eben Worthington of course!!! Apparently you have no idea of what an important man I am, or you wouldn’t be such an impertinent child!”

  “Stop roaring,” Alma Aurora murmured. “I can hear you fine. My ears are in perfect condition.”

  “How in the world did someone like you get in to this very exclusive celebration?! It was by invitation only!”

  “You mean because only your fans were allowed in?—those who worship you?”

  “Leave the premises right now!!! You shouldn’t be here!” Eben Worthington snapped, fuming.

  “Where’s your family, Eben?” Alma Aurora questioned lightly.

  “It’s none of your business, little girl!!! I’m calling security this very moment to escort you out of here!”

  “This silliness has gone on much too long,” Alma Aurora declared as she waved her hand. The golden flecks appeared throughout all the ballroom. People, including Eben Worthington, stared with fascination at them. Then, suddenly, poof!—the guests disappeared and only Alma Aurora, Snowy, and Eben Worthington were left in the ballroom. The abrupt quiet was now deafening.

  “Where’s everyone?” questioned a startled Eben Worthington.

  “They were too much of a distraction for you, so I had to do away with this part of your dream.”

  “I’m dreaming?” Eben Worthington muttered.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, it looks like my dream just turned into a nightmare,” he commented dryly.

  “Yes.”

  “You admit that you turned my wonderful dream into an ugly nightmare?” he asked, surprised.

  “The nightmare is the reality you refuse to face.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s start the real work, shall we?” Alma Aurora asked as she started taking off her coat.

  “Who is she?” he inquired, indicating Snowy.

  “This is Snowbella, Santa Clause’s granddaughter.”

  “What?”

  Snowy stepped up to Eben Worthington with her right hand extended. “I’m so pleased to meet you.”

  He looked at her strangely and then shook her hand. “Are you really Santa’s granddaughter, Snowbella?”

  Snowy nodded. “Please call me Snowy.”

  “She watches you on London Blair’s Fabulous Life,” explained Alma Aurora, her coat almost off.

  Eben smiled widely. “Do you like the show?”

  “I’m a huge fan!” she burst.

  “Glad to hear it,” he stated. “My daughter is quite a girl, don’t you think?”

  Snowy nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! She’s an awesome girl!”

  “Now that we’re talking about London Blair, we might as well start with her,” Alma Aurora murmured, the coat completely off.

  “What are those!!!” blurted Eben Worthington, indicating Alma Aurora’s golden wings.

  “They’re wings, Mr. Worthington,” Snowy explained.

  “Are you a fairy?” he asked Alma Aurora.

  “No,” stated Alma Aurora.

  “Then what are you?!” he blurted.

  “She’s an angel, Mr. Worthington,” Snowy chimed in.

  “An angel from heaven?!” he questioned.

  Snowy nodded. “Yeah, one of God’s angels.”

  “She can’t be an angel?! She’s too dark! Angels are light and blonde!”

  Snowy had had the same reaction last year upon meeting Alma Aurora for the first time. Because of that, she knew what to respond to him. “Don’t believe in stereotypes, Mr. Worthington,” she declared.

  “There are many kinds of angels in heaven,” asserted Alma Aurora.

  “What’s an angel doing in a nightmare?” he roared.

  Alma Aurora eyed him grimly. “Shall we see?” she murmured as she waved her hand, golden flecks floating from it.

  Chapter 20

  A huge flat screen appeared. Eben Worthington eyed at it with a perplexed stare.

  “We’re going to watch TV?” he questioned.

  Snowy shook her head. “It’s not a TV, Mr. Worthington. It’s a life screen.”

  “A what?” he burst.

  “You’ll see,” Alma Aurora declared as a remote appeared in front of her. When she pushed a button, the flat screen became a three dimensional scene of London Blair. She looked like she was in the room with them, staring in to the mirror, upset.

  Eyeing the scene with complete surprise, Eben Worthington finally blurted, “What’s this? Why are we looking at my daughter?”

  “Do you recognize how she used to look?” Alma Aurora asked quietly.

  “This is before she changed her look—so what?” he snapped. “I don’t understand the purpose of seeing my unhappy daughter before she lost weight and fixed her nose.”

  Snowy remembered when this had happened on the realty show. It had caused quite a sensation when London Blair changed her appearance in front of millions of viewers. London Blair’s Fabulous Life became the biggest hit for the network.

  “Fixed her nose?” questioned Alma Aurora, puzzled. “Was her nose broken?”

  “Of course not!” snapped Eben Worthington.

  “Was it not working properly?” Alma Aurora continued her questioning.

  “Stop these stupid questions!” he roared. “London Blair had to have a nose job because she needed an attractive nose. There’s nothing wrong with that!”

  “Attractive nose?” Alma Aurora murmured, perplexed. “What made her new nose so much more attractive than her previous nose?”

  “She got a famous singer’s nose,” Snowy chimed in, trying to be helpful.

  “So she has someone else’s nose?” asked Alma Aurora, frowning.

  “She’s beautiful with her new nose!” snapped Eben Worthington.

  “It completely changed her face,” Snowy explained.

  Alma Aurora frowned deeper. “So her new face is better?”

  “Yes!” retorted Eben Worthington.

  “Who says?” challenged Alma Aurora.

  Eben Worthington eyed her with sheer frustration. “What kind of question is that?”

  Alma Aurora stood her ground. “I want to know who thought she looked better.”

  “Well, everybody!” he retorted.

  Alma Aurora groaned. “Group pressure mentality is always right?”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Beauty is relative,” said Alma Aurora. “It really is in the eyes of the beholder. It all depends on what you’ve been made to believe is beautiful. It’s just an illusion.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” growled Eben Worthington. “Beauty is obvious. That’s why my wife has also had extensive plastic surgery and look at how good she looks. Anyone who is anyone says so.”

  “Anyone?” murmured Alma Aurora.

  “Anyone who is important!” he explained impatiently.

  Alma Aurora’s right eyebrow shot up. “Does that anyone include God?”

  He cleared his throat. “Of course not. I don’t know what God thinks of my wife’s or my daughter’s new face.

  “What do you think is beautiful to God?” questioned Alma Aurora.

  Stumped, Eben Worthington shrugged his shoulders.

  “Think abou
t it,” Alma Aurora said. “What is God’s standard of beauty? What did Jesus say about it?”

  Chapter 21

  “I don’t think Jesus said anything about physical beauty. He must’ve left it up to us,” Eben Worthington declared defensively.

  “Maybe we should follow his example of not setting a clear physical beauty standard, what do you think?” asked Alma Aurora.

  He shrugged. “But I’m sure that while he was here he had his own idea of beauty.”

  “What do you think it was?” questioned Alma Aurora.

  He shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t want to speak for him.”

  Alma Aurora chuckled. “That’s a good way of dismissing Jesus, so you don’t have to change your ideas.”

  “Listen here, I’m not doing that!” he snapped. “You may be an angel, but you shouldn’t be speaking for Jesus!”

  “Through his life we can ascertain a few things,” stated Alma Aurora.

  “Talking about Jesus in terms of what is physical beauty is too superficial. We should be talking about something else! Keep God and Jesus out of it!” he retorted.

  “No, beauty is an important issue. Believe me, God and Jesus are already involved in it.”

  He snorted. “I don’t care if you’re an angel—I don’t believe you. You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  What do you think God and Jesus consider beautiful? Only stars, models, reality stars, and people who spend a lot of money on their looks?”

  “Of course not.”

  “So what do you think God and Jesus consider beautiful? Certain kinds of faces, noses, lips, or body types?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then tell me what you think God and Jesus consider to be beautiful?”

  “This conversation is silly,” roared Eben Worthington.

  “You can keep trying to close your mind, but tonight we’re going to crack it open whether you like it or not,” declared Alma Aurora. “Much depends on it.”

  “Hey!” he blurted furiously, “my mind is perfectly fine!”

  Alma Aurora decided to leave that one alone for the time being. She turned to Snowy. “What about you? What do you think is beautiful to God and Jesus?”

  Snowy grew pensive. “I would think that they consider beauty in terms of human beings who have good hearts and do good deeds.”

  “Good, Snowy. Don’t forget that beauty travels from the inside to the outside and never ever the other way around. That particular luminescent sparkle a person earns lights the space all around them and makes others want to get close to warm themselves. That’s true beauty and that’s what God sees and not manufactured so called beauty.”

  “Okay, but now my daughter has a new face, and I’m certain God still knows how wonderful she is!”

  “That’s right, Eben. God knows all and even the nickname you used to have for her,” Alma Aurora said, frowning.

  Eben nervously cleared his throat. “Listen here, I called her Chubs out of affection.”

  Alma Aurora grimaced and shook her head.

  “Besides,” he continued, “I stopped calling her that when she lost weight.”

  Snowy had witnessed London Blair’s amazing transformation on TV. One minute London Blair was Snowy’s medium build and then a few months later she was a size zero and shopping at all the top designer shops in Paris.

  “Yes, I know,” Alma Aurora murmured. She pushed the forward button on the remote and suddenly London Blair was very skinny.

  “You look absolutely beautiful,” burst the Eben Worthington inside the scene. “Worthy of being a Worthington!” The Eben Worthington outside the scene smiled at his own image and nodded.

  Alma Aurora eyed the Eben Worthington next to her sternly.

  “Why are you looking at me like that!” he blurted. “Why is it wrong to compliment my daughter?”

  Alma Aurora ignored his question and sighed sadly. “She got lots of compliments, didn’t she?”

  “You bet!” Eben Worthington exclaimed with pride, bursting with joy. “Even my wife realized she needed to follow London Blair’s lead and improve herself. She also lost a lot of weight.”

  “Human beings get brainwashed so easily,” Alma Aurora murmured with sadness.

  “What do you mean?!” roared Eben Worthington.

  “People make a lot of money out of making other people insecure,” explained Alma Aurora.

  “What?!” he exclaimed.

  “Keep looking at the screen.”

  Alma Aurora pushed the forward button. Different scenes started coming up—all of them with London Blair at gatherings with her quietly still as other people ate delicious foods.

  “Did you ever notice, Eben, that your daughter doesn’t eat?” Alma Aurora asked.

  His eyebrows shot up. “What!? What do you mean she doesn’t eat?”

  “Look at her,” Alma Aurora said.

  More scenes came up and none of them showed her munching on anything even though she had been in plenty of banquets and family meals full of food. Eventually, Eben Worthington turned away from the scenes.

  “Listen here,” he mumbled, “It’s obvious she’s just trying to watch her figure.”

  “Is that the story you want to tell yourself?” questioned Alma Aurora.

  “Story?!” he burst.

  “Human beings tell themselves fiction stories so they don’t face the truth,” explained Alma Aurora. “They get themselves to believe these fiction stories as if they were real.”

  “I’m not—“

  “London Blair is anorexic, Mr. Worthington,” Snowy murmured, sad and disillusioned.

  Chapter 22

  A surprised Alma Aurora eyed Snowy and nodded. Alma Aurora realized that Snowy wasn’t telling herself fiction stories anymore about the Worthingtons.

  “No, she can’t be,” muttered Eben Worthington, mostly to himself. “Can’t be.”

  “She’s starving herself to death,” Snowy blurted, upset. “It’s right in front of you, Mr. Worthington. How can you not see it?”

  Snowy just couldn’t fathom Eben Worthington’s blindness. Now she realized that she, herself, had also entered this new experience blind, desperately wanting her so called heroes to keep being heroes. Now she knew better.

  “You’ve got to open your eyes, Mr. Worthington,” Snowy continued. “For your family.”

  “Listen here—“

  “Let’s look at the rest of your family, shall we?” murmured Alma Aurora. She pushed a button on the remote and suddenly London Blair’s emaciated figure was gone and in its place was a gloomy Stewy.

  “He looks very depressed, doesn’t he?” Alma Aurora directly asked Eben Worthington.

  “It’s his personality,” he blurted. “He’s always been like that.”

  Snowy eyed Eben Worthington and groaned.

  “Is that the fiction story you tell yourself?” questioned Alma Aurora, shaking her head.

  “Last year I had to give him a dog, so he wouldn’t be so lonely,” burst Snowy.

  “What?!!! You gave him the mutt?!!!” snapped Eben Worthington, his nose flaring. “You could’ve at least given him an animal with some pedigree instead of a worthless mutt!!!”

  “You think the kind of dog is more important than the happiness of your son?” Alma Aurora asked quietly.

  “I’m certain he would’ve been happier with a higher class pet!” he snapped defensively.

  “Let’s take a look at how he’s doing with Corky,” said Alma Aurora, pushing a button on the remote.

  The gloomy scene switched over to a much more content one with Stewy hugging and laughing with Corky.

  “Mr. Worthington, Stewy seems to love that dog a lot,” stated Snowy.

  “He’d love a better class dog even more—I’m convinced of it!”

  “Eben, would you exchange your kids for the children of royalty?” questioned Alma Aurora.

  “Of course not!” he snapped insulted.


  “Why not?” asked Alma Aurora. “Royal children would carry more prestige, wouldn’t they?”

  “But they wouldn’t be my children!!!” burst Eben Worthington.

  Alma Aurora smiled. “Well, Stewy wouldn’t switch his pet for any other dog.”

  “Listen here, that’s a completely different situation!”

  “There you go with your fiction stories,” murmured Alma Aurora.

  “Mr. Worthington, you should be thrilled that Stewy found something that makes him happy,” Snowy declared. “Being depressed all the time really stinks!”

  “Yes, you should be thanking Snowy for having given him Corky instead of complaining that the dog isn’t up to your expectations or standards,” Alma Aurora asserted. “Corky doesn’t have to be worthy of being a Worthington. All he has to be is loving.”

  “Yeah, Corky loves Stewy and vice versa,” commented Snowy.

  “You don’t know anything!” snapped Eben Worthington. “Neither of you really know my son! I’m the one who’s lived with him all his life! I know what’s best for him!!!”

  “You do?” questioned Alma Aurora lightly.

  “Of course!” he roared.

  Alma Aurora sighed deeply. Pushing a button on the remote, the scene switched. This time Stewy stared forlornly at a baseball glove and ball.

  “I gave them to him on his last birthday,” boasted Eben Worthington. “They’re signed by the greats in baseball and worth a fortune.”

  Alma Aurora sighed again. “So you think your son would rather be admiring them than playing with them?—is that the fiction story you want to tell yourself?”

  “Those objects are too valuable to play with!” he snapped.

  Snowy’s eyebrows shot up as she grumbled.

  Alma Aurora eyed him solemnly. “What if I told you that those objects are much less valuable to your son than a game of catch with you?”

  “I’ve got too much to do to play catch!” retorted Eben Worthington. “I’ve got heavy family responsibilities! I’ve got to keep a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs!”

  Alma Aurora sighed. “More fiction stories?”

  “Listen here, I’m getting fed up with you calling my life a fiction story!” he burst, furiously.

  “Your life isn’t a fiction story—it’s what you hide from and then revise that you turn into fiction,” explained Alma Aurora. “Your empire building shouldn’t be more important than your family.”

  “Empire building?!” he burst.

  “Mr. Worthington, you’re a billionaire, right?” asked Snowy.

 

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