One Angel's Wish

One Angel's Wish
Kira Stone
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2024 Kira Stone

“Hey, man, thanks,” Tony said, backing away from the edge of the steel trestle bridge connecting the manufacturing plant to the rest of the world. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been here.”

Chris did. All too well. That’s why he’d been in the right place at the right time. “Glad I could help.”

The laid-off factory worker shook Chris’s hand, then walked back to the small, rusted truck he’d left on the business side of the river. The battered Ford rumbled to life, performed a sloppy U-turn, and carried its driver across the bridge and out of sight.

Chris savored the satisfaction that came from a job well done. And just in time too. In the distance, he heard the warning klaxon. The daily dump was about to begin.

Warm, clean wash water would soon be released from the plant, changing the calm, lazy tributary into a rushing, roaring beast of a river for the next twenty minutes. Anyone unlucky enough to be in its path would feel as though they’d been caught up in a giant tumbler full of gravel and water.

If they ever felt anything at all.

Time to go. Chris glanced around to be sure no one was watching before he made the internal adjustments which allowed the morphing process to begin. Seconds later, he flexed his pair of white feathered wings as though trying them on for the first time.

No matter how often he transformed, it never ceased to give him the willies.

Plumes of white steam from the factory stacks made for a comfortable cushion upon which to ride as he returned to the plane of existence that had been his home for the past twelve years. His wings gave an extra bit of oomph to the updraft, and in no time at all he passed through the golden gate.

He patted the soft, obliging cloud in thanks, then sent it scampering off to play among its much larger cousins in the upper atmosphere. Though his shift was officially over, he decided to stop by the office and log the report while the details were fresh in his mind.

As usual, the Guardian Angels Bureau was bustling with activity. Angels -- GABbies some called them -- zoomed in and out of every opening, like sparkling bees around a brilliant white hive. Chris chose to drift in through the window closest to his desk to avoid unnecessary attention.

He should’ve known better than to think he could slide in under the radar.

“Look! He’s back.”

“Hey, everybody, Chris is here!”

Welcoming cries heralded him from every corner of the large room. He smiled, faintly embarrassed, and waved back. “Just doing my job, guys. It’s no big deal.”

Romaine, his dark-skinned titan of a boss, thumped the top of her desk with the palm of her hand. “‘Course it’s a big deal, Christopher. Every life counts or there’d be no point in refreshing a soul through childbirth. Now come on over here and talk to me so we can get this business off the chart.”

He waded through the congratulatory handshakes, pats on the back, and the occasional hug until he stood before her. The top of his head would fit under her chin, but she never made him feel small or insignificant. He wondered how she accomplished that and chalked it up to years of practice. There weren’t many people, even in Heaven, who were nearly seven feet tall like Romaine.

A gentle breeze washed over him, and he knew she’d erected a privacy shield. He appreciated her thoughtfulness and told her so. This was the hardest part of the job for him.

“I’d do anything to make this process easier on you, and you know it.” Romaine sat on the edge of her desk and folded her arms under her bountiful but shadowy breasts. “Start talking.”

Chris relayed how he’d come upon Tony as the man was working up the courage to step out on the metal braces supporting the bridge. How he joined the unemployed factory worker as if he was a lost hiker looking for a phone. How Tony broke down and said Chris was a lucky guy to have someone who cared whether or not he came home. How Tony eventually agreed that a woman who deserted him as soon as she learned her cash cow was suddenly out of milk wasn’t worth dying for. How when they’d parted, Tony’s life force was shimmering with hopeful promise.

“Never expect anything else when it’s one of yours,” Romaine said as his recital came to a close. “And did he thank you?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Chris knew that would earn Tony a bonus point on St. Peter’s final tally.

She nodded once, then circled the desk to sit in front of a monitor. She tapped a few white keys while Chris watched the large status board covering one long wall at the front of the room. As data went in, Tony’s status changed from “Guarded” to “Saved”. Another rousing cheer went up, though at a much quieter decibel than before from where Chris sat inside the privacy bubble.

Tony’s name flashed several times and then it disappeared. Chris watched the black, empty square. Seconds ticked by. He dared to hope there’d be a respite. But then the faerie lights danced and resolved into a new name.

Chris sighed, and an old ache filled his chest. There was always another name to fill the empty space. Another soul in mortal peril. It saddened him to know so many unhappy people inhabited the world. Thankfully, GABbies were around to see to them in their time of crisis.

A clear, serene bell rang once. “I never get tired of hearing that sound,” Romaine said as she picked up the wish chit that had magically appeared in her white inbox. It looked like a silver button. She carefully placed it in his hand. It wouldn’t do to be careless with Wishes. “What’ll you do with it?”