“What happened?” She stalled for time.
“My name is Pam Allen, and I’m the owner of this rolling monstrosity. This,” she pointed to the man with her, “is Hamlin Paine. You came out of nowhere and we almost hit you with the truck. Ham barely got it stopped in time.”
“Honestly, I’m not sure how I managed it. It was like some force field stood between you and certain death. It was a miracle.” Hamlin’s voice sounded strained.
At the word miracle, every drop of blood drained out of Galmadriel’s face. She shivered at the chill seeping into her bones, though the coolness was not the real reason for her reaction. How could she have been given a miracle after everything that had happened, after being kicked out of heaven?
“Come on,” Pam said, “Let’s get out of the sun; it’s cooler in the truck. Is there someplace we can take you?”
Another question with no viable answer; the silence spun out. Galmadriel avoided Pam’s searching gaze, but followed the other woman willingly into the truck. Until she could get her bearings, she had no other recourse.
Hamlin turned toward Pam with questioning eyes and a quirked eyebrow and mouthed, “What now?” She answered with a slight twitch of her shoulders and mouthed back, “No idea.”
Now that the initial shock had worn off, Hamlin glanced pointedly at his watch. Galmadriel took his action to mean he was anxious to get on with his day. These two people had been on the way to somewhere before she had so inconveniently dropped in on them. Pam confirmed this by saying, “We were on our way back to town to restock the truck after the morning run. Where can we drop you? Are you visiting friends in the area?”
“No, I am here because...” When she took a moment to think about it, Galmadriel had no idea why I was here. Turning in her seat, she cast an assessing eye on Pam. What she saw was a woman in her early middle years—a short cap of medium brown hair curled up where it feathered around her ears and framed a pair of lively green eyes. Those eyes currently carried a wary expression. Reading the contours of Pam’s face, Galmadriel saw lines of tension around her mouth; lines deeply grooved enough to speak of a tragedy somewhere in the woman’s past. In contrast, marks of laughter also crinkled near her eyes, which told Galmadriel Pam was a woman who tried not to dwell on the harder times. Trustworthy, stalwart and true—these were words her instinct said would describe Pam perfectly.
Picking her words carefully, Galmadriel attempted to skirt the more fantastic elements of her story. “I…something has happened to me, and for reasons I cannot explain, I have nowhere to go.” Over an eternity of existence, Galmadriel had never felt disconnected from home. Now she was alone and lost.
As if something about her compelled him to offer assistance, Hamlin spoke up, “You can stay with me.” Pam later admitted that in the moment, she had felt a similar urge to offer sanctuary but, being a bit more experienced in life, had managed to stop herself before blurting out an offer of help. In her experience, people who fell for a sob story were the ones left crying in the end.
“Thank you for your kindness.” Tempting as Hamlin’s offer was, Galmadriel felt powerfully drawn to Pam—tuned in to her in much the same way as with her former charges. Something inside Pam was broken. She needed Galmadriel’s help almost as much as the former angel needed hers.
With the adrenaline ebbing, Galmadriel began to take in more of her surroundings. It came as a bit of a shock when she glanced out the window expecting to see the gray and brown tones of late March and, instead, saw a vista of gently undulating, daisy-studded grass. She must have lost two, maybe three months in what had felt like the blink of an eye. Where had she been all that time?
Slumping back in the seat, Galmadriel ran back over the debacle that had led her here. None of her actions at the bridge were sanctioned by the collective that governed over guardian angel activities. The powers that be would never have let her attempt such a thing had they known. The plan was reckless and brilliant; too bad she hadn’t quite pulled it off.
Even knowing she would have to explain her choices to her superiors and probably pay penance, Galmadriel had intended to use the all’s-well-that-ends-well defense. Unfortunately, she never got the chance. Instead, the bridge’s moorings failed, and in the ensuing chaos, she fell. Not the kind of fall where you get up, nurse a skinned knee and get back on the horse—the kind where everyone back home, if they spoke of her at all, it would be in hushed tones and using the term fallen angel.
Fast forward to now and here she was: worried about turning evil, missing weeks of time, stuck inside a human body, and unable to go home. Definitely not an ends-well situation.
And to top it all off, she had to pee.
***
Spending a millennium as a guardian angel had taught Galmadriel everything she thought she needed to know about life on earth. Odd customs, strange habits, and societal norms all fell within the scope of her knowledge. However, an hour walking in human shoes proved knowing a thing and living it were two entirely different prospects.
Logically, she knew she should focus on long-term goals of finding shelter and a means of financial support. Too bad her flesh and bone body was all about the short term problems. Unless she was mistaken, the gnawing sensation in her gut meant finding food was number one with a bullet on her priority list.
There are no coincidences; any angel will tell you that. Her glance fell on the Help Wanted sign propped in the truck’s window, and she remembered the business name emblazoned across the side of the
