This story is a prizewinner! No really, it won the flash fiction contest at the Roanoke Public Library Writing Conference in 2019!
“I don’t wanna do this,” said Roger, crossing his arms.
“A thousand years in heaven and you’re still a curmudgeon. How do you manage it?” asked the Divine.
“It’s a gift,” snarled Roger. Five hundred years ago, his stubbornness had deemed him “ineligible” to be a Guardian Angel. He knew he wasn’t getting out of it this time but he had to try.
“Come here,” She said.
Roger didn’t move. He realized he was holding his breath. He finally pushed the air out of his lungs and propelled toward Her as if his own breath was the wind behind him.
“There she is,” said the Divine, pointing through the large glass window of Her office. A young girl walked on a college campus. She was dressed for winter. Roger felt a chill straight to his bones. He hated the winter. Cold and wet and frostbite and—
The Divine had placed Her hand on his shoulder. He was warm again.
“What’s her name?” he growled.
“Annabelle,” replied the Divine.
Before he could stop them, the words fell from his mouth, “Had a dog named Annie.”
“I know.”
“Of course you do.”
“Perhaps the only thing you ever loved?”
Roger harrumphed.
A long silence and three sighs later, Roger mumbled, “Well, what am I supposed to do to her?”
The Divine gave him a knowing look but he refused to meet Her eye.
“Well, where’s the list of guidelines? What are the rules?” asked Roger, getting impatient.
Her voice was flat with feigned annoyance but Her eyes danced. “We don’t have rules or guidelines, Roger.”
He opened his mouth to speak but the Divine spoke first, “Your job is just to love her.”
“To what?” cried Roger. It was as if he’d been told he had to tear her limb from limb. His horror swelled as he saw a familiar look in the Divine’s eye. “Don’t—“
Before he could finish his sentence, some unseen heavenly orchestra began to play. She took Her hands out from behind her back, a microphone in one and the other a dazzling jazz hand. The wall behind Her disappeared like a falling curtain and a vast, glorious choir surrounded them.
“There’s nothing you can know that isn’t known, nothing you can see that isn’t shown. There’s nowhere you can be that isn’t where you’re meant to be.”
Roger groaned as the ensemble swayed and harmonized.
Louder still, She crooned. “It’s easy!”
She threw Her hand out in his direction, not so much asking as demanding he sing the next line. He stared at Her with a new kind of fury. His lead-in played over and over. As Her eyes burrowed into him, he felt his heart soften. As if of its own volition, his mouth formed a whisper, “All you need is love.”
With one last echo, the room was plunged back into silence. The spotlights went out and the two of them were once again enclosed in the Divine’s office, earthly sunlight pouring in through the window. Her arms crossed in front of Her, a smile in Her eyes, as if nothing else had happened, She said softly, “Love is all you need.”
He stared at Her. His anger boiled over.
“Then where was mine?” he yelled.
“I’ve been waiting,” She said. Patiently, kindly, waiting for him to continue.
“Ever since I got here, all I hear about is love! Before coming her, I’d never seen it, never experienced it. Where was my guardian angel?” he howled and fell to his knees, his anger turning to tears.
She approached him slowly and placed Her hand on his head. “You’ve been here for a thousand years, Roger. What took you so long to ask?”
“Because it felt like a mistake. Me being here. I didn’t love, no one loved me.”
“Roger,” said the Divine.
He didn’t move.
“Roger, stand and look at me,” She said with equal parts compassion and force.
He did. And he had never seen such a thing. She was glowing, somehow emanating warmth and understanding.
“You were there to learn something, you’re here to learn something. At least, that’s the goal. All of us must always, intentionally be in the midst of growing. And the only way we can possibly grow in a way that changes us to our core – is to love.”
He scoffed but met Her eye again, his eyes still shining with tears.
“What if I never learned?” asked Roger, his voice small.
“Annie, Roger. Annie was your guardian angel. Annie was your love.”
Roger heard a scratch and looked behind him. He saw little white paws sticking out between the carpet and the bottom of the office door; he heard a nose sniffing furiously. He walked toward the door as it opened. Annie ran in and jumped into Roger’s arms and he fell to the ground. Both frantic and calm, she nuzzled into the crook of his neck. His heart overflowed.
He suddenly remembered where he was.
He got up and turned back to the Divine. She was standing by the window, looking out.
“It’s time,” She said without facing him.
He understood. Or at least, he understood more than he had before and that was enough for now. The office disintegrated around them. Roger and Annie were back in the farmhouse, his chosen heavenly dwelling.
“Time for a walk?” he asked Annie.
She wagged her tail just like she used to, but this time, he appreciated the knowing in it.
Out the front door, they stepped onto the college campus, just as Annabelle approached. She stopped abruptly as her backpack fell to one side. The strap had broken.
“God damn it all to fucking hell!” she yelled for the whole campus to hear.
“Oh, I’m going to like her,” said Roger.
And Annie wagged her tail in agreement.
For those who don’t know: yes, I wrote this story for my dog, Annie.
