With Estelle’s agreement, she decided it was time to tell Pam the truth. So, when the woman in question stalked into the middle of the room and said, “You’re going to tell me everything,” Adriel held nothing back.
“Fine,” she snapped, “I used to be a guardian angel. I tried to save one of my charges from crossing over before her time, and fell from heaven. Now I’m stuck in this…this human body, and I think I’m here to help your brother’s spirit move on.”
Pam’s mouth dropped open, then snapped shut; her eyes narrowed, searched Adriel’s for signs of mental instability. Adriel crossed her arms and stood staunchly defiant under Pam’s piercing gaze.
“Why don’t you join me for dinner, and I’ll tell you about it,” Adriel spoke softly, calmly.
Even if Pam thought her story was a load of something frequently found in a pasture, Adriel could tell she was willing to listen.
“But that’s…” she began to protest.
“Crazy? Impossible?” Adriel filled in the sentence for her. “You think I don’t know how it sounds?” The need for proof wrote itself all over Pam’s face. “Remember the moment you first saw me.”
Refusing to sit in the chair Adriel gestured toward, Pam paced as she replayed the entire scene in her mind. She saw the flash of angel wings, the outstretched hand; felt the truck stop when it should have continued forward. Brown eyes widened and glittered in her now-pale face.
“You,” she pointed with a shaking hand but could not say more.
“Yes.” For the first time all day, Adriel smiled. Secrets became a burden when not shared. “I am the angel Galmadriel.” Her smile gave way to a frown, “Former angel. Or half angel, or something like it. That is the subject of much debate among my former brethren.”
“I think I need to sit down for a minute. This is a lot to process.” Pam’s knees wobbled, but carried her the few steps to the table where she sat heavily. Adriel set a cup of tea in front of Pam and took the seat across the table. After a moment—and a sip of tea—Pam seemed to have regained some of her equilibrium.
Until she glanced around the room and her already pale face turned a sickly shade of gray.
“You’re an angel, and I acted like I was doing you a favor to let you stay in this dump? I’m sorry. I had no idea. Well, you can’t stay here.”
The last thing Adriel expected was to be ousted and homeless again. Was this some kind of discrimination?
“My place isn’t heaven, but it’s better than this. We’ll trade.”
Oh.
“No, thank you, Pam. I’m fine here with the cat.”
“Winston?”
“Yes, Winston. He’s not especially talkative, though”
“You can talk to animals? That’s a skill I’d love to have. Unless they talk all the time, and then it would probably get old really quickly.” Not as quickly as you will if you keep babbling like this, the thought ran through Pam’s head, this is an angel you’re boring to tears. Just shut up.
Pam had no idea she’d spoken aloud, and Adriel bit her lip to keep from giving anything away.
Adriel couldn’t help but smile when instead of shutting up, Pam’s nerves took over and pushed her mouth into overdrive. For the next few minutes, she described her favorite childhood pet—a white cat with a black tail and two black spots on his head named Buttermilk, who had been both a confidant and boon companion. She avoided any mention of Ben.
Sensing the nervous energy behind Pam’s spate of words, Adriel sipped her tea and patiently waited for her to push through the internal struggle to see the simple truth. Minute after minute filled with idle chatter, masking any notice of the elephant in the room
Finally, Pam managed to put a clamp on her case of verbal incontinence, and just stared at Adriel with questions in her eyes about what to do next.
“Let me get this straight. You’re an angel in a human body, and no one up there can find anything better to have you do than live in this…” words failed her, so she just waved a hand to indicate the small space, ”and sling pastries for barely more than tip money while you clear up a thirty-year-old mystery?”
Not auspicious, but that about sums it up. Adriel answered. “Yes.”
“Can you…” Pam looked left then right and whispered, “Do stuff?”
“Stuff?”
“You know, like smite people?”
Adriel sighed. “No, and I don’t play a harp, or wear a golden halo, either.”
“Well, what can you do?”
“That is another topic of some debate. Angels can take on human form, but they remain beings of light—of energy—not of physicality. I’m the first one to ever be earthbound. I can tell you more things I can no longer do than things I can. That list is long and lamented. Oh, and my super power is killing electronics with nothing more than a glance.”
“My GPS. Okay, I get why you don’t drive. Or why you never answer your mobile.” Adriel flashed Pam a grin.
“I’ve tried, but the minute I touch it, the batteries drain to nothing.” A hint of bitterness crept in, “I’m useless.”
“But you’ve talked to my brother, right? So you can see ghosts.” It was a good point.
“Yes, I suppose I can. He’s been with you all these years, if that helps.”
“A little. I’m ashamed to say this, but I’ve had years to grieve, and as much as I miss him, knowing what happened has lifted a burden from me. I’d give anything to be able to see him one more time, so I envy you the ability; but there’s also a sense of relief I’m unable to describe.”
Leaving that line of conversation for another time and place, Adriel offered Pam a bowl of chowder while she questioned her more thoroughly about events on the day of Ben’s accident.
Getting her secret out into the open eased something in Adriel. By the time their bowls were empty, they had the start of a timeline with as
