" FIRST SIGHT ANGEL ENCOUNTER"
How quickly life can change. A sixteen-year-old girl texting while driving took the best part of us away, leaving two innocent kids without their mom. The most wonderful woman to ever walk the earth, my beautiful Sally, pinned against an icy guardrail, bravely clinging to her last moments of life.
“Tell Bo I’ll miss him terribly,” and, “please, tell my precious babies, Mommy loves them so much.” Tears filled her eyes, “I won’t be there to see you grow up.”
The car severed her just above the hip. The paramedics told her the truth, pulling the car away would cost the brief time she had left. Sally laughed, nervously asking for something to write on. My beautiful wife spent her last minutes writing, “Dearest family, I love you, I have had the most wonderful life, try not to be sad. Try to hold on to the good memories.” She signed, “Mommy,” and, “I’m so sorry, Sweetheart.”
I’m welding now, for Bath Iron works, a shipbuilder based on the Portland Waterfront. It’s steady work –building Arleigh Burke class destroyers, for the U.S. Navy. I had to do something with my hands to keep busy or else lose my mind. Grief can do that. Work helps me forget.
I must have dosed off. My eyes slowly open to the blinding brightness of the noonday sun. Turning sideways I catch a glimpse of my son Brandon swinging stomach first, but there’s something else, oddly out of place. I can’t explain it. A girl, a young woman maybe, is standing too close. Who does that? No one gets that close to someone else’s kid. What is she doing? She looks over at me, as though she would like to answer. I sense her thoughts as she realizes that I see her. My heartbeat quickens, I count three quick thumps – before I figure out what to do - she’s gone. What was that? Who could she be? This is crazy – someone was there then suddenly disappears. I have to question my sanity.
“Please come back,” I plead, mentally. “Whoever you are, whatever you are, I’ll wonder for the rest of my life! That’s not fair!” Maybe she wasn’t so gentle. My mind is racing now; Brandon is still swinging peacefully – oblivious, to what I’ve witnessed.
I ask anyway, hopeful, “Hey Bran? Who was that next to you?”
“I’m swinging by myself, Daddy.” He is giggling at me, his answer so matter-of-fact. I get chills.
Okay, I’ve finally cracked. To my credit it did take a while for me to lose my mind. I’ve put up a good fight the last two and a half years, but now I’m seeing things. For months after Sally died I waited, hoping she’d show herself – to somehow let me know she was okay. Surely our love could bridge the gap between death and life. If anyone would try - it would be her. I thought the chimes were Sally, the birds chirping, butterflies – the stern rustling of the leaves; it was all just dreaming. Now I’ve really lost it; for five seconds at least, I saw the most beautiful woman, as plain as the nose on my face. Then she disappeared. No one will believe me. The guys at work don’t understand stuff like this. I can’t trust anyone with this information. I thought I was a survivor and losing my wife hadn’t made me crazy. Now I can no longer say that. What am I going to do? If I tell – I risk losing my kids. I sit up and take a series of deep breaths to clear my head.
“You have the most beautiful faith.” I hear in my mind. It’s finally happened - I’ve completely cracked. I’m seeing things and hearing voices.
“You’re not seeing things, Bo. Look beside you, I’m here.”
My God. This is real. The most amazing creature is sitting beside me speaking directly to my mind. Now of all times, I can’t talk. My lips are frozen.
“Are you real!?” I manage to ask mentally, overly stimulated.
She delicately places her hand on my arm, “Yes, I’m real.” She smiles, gently shaking her head. “You must have been so at peace. True rest is a gift from God.” When she thinks of God, I fall limp. She catches me, cradling my head in her lap.
“Who are you?” I think to ask. She leans over, blows sweet breath into my face, breathing a message without moving her lips, communicating as if she were making love. I understand the truth. She is Gabriella, a messenger of God. A guardian sent to intervene wherever she is needed. She is not the most powerful angel. Others far greater guard the outer edges of the earth. She is here only briefly, to help change the course of events.
“Bo,” It’s funny, I’m hearing her dulcet voice aloud with my ears. “Your faith must be very strong for you to witness.”
“Well it’s going to be a lot stronger now. This is incredible…It’s amazing…You’re amazing!”
“Bo?”
“Yes, Gabriella?”
“Sally’s in a place of peace and love.”
The angel knew that’s what I’d ask. “Is she happy, does she miss us? Where is she?”
“Slow down, I can’t give you the details, but you’ll see her again. True love always finds its way in heaven. That’s all I can tell you.”
“Thank you, that’s the best thing you could have said.”
“You are blessed, Bo.”
“Your voice?”
“Yes, Bo?”
“It’s like hearing the sweetest melody, say something, anything – please, it’s beautiful.”
“I bet you say that to all the angels.” The beautiful voice is teasing now.
“You are the first angel I have seen. Are all angels female?” I was still gazing in wonder at her beautiful face.
“I see…” Gabriella looked pensively, and then answered, “Angels can be male or female, Bo.”
“One or the other, I hope.” I said, trying to tease her back.
“You’re funny,” she laughed. “I’m a female angel, very female, don’t worry.”
“Well, you’re lovely, ‘breathtakingly feminine!” I was trying and failing to suppress my admiration.
She giggled, “You’re sweet, we are not learning so we angels display perfection, the ideal possible in humanity.”
“You’re beautiful in every sense, Gabriella. Your skin, your hair – you’re perfect.” She is the most desirable woman I have ever seen.
“We’re archetypes, Bo, modeled after men and women. Not the other way around.”
I have the strangest sensation, like I'm drawn to this angel. The feeling is overwhelming.
“Bo, that's why angels never show themselves, we are irresistible to humans. It's not your fault.”
“It’s strange, you’re reading my mind.” I can’t keep my thoughts secret from you?’
“I’m afraid not, I hear your thoughts as easily as if you were speaking them.” She began to walk, with a gentle gait that was as graceful as dancing, around me.
“Sally would have loved to be able to hear my thoughts like that.”
“What girl wouldn’t want to know what her man was thinking?” She continued pacing, seemingly filled with an excess of energy that she needed to vent by moving.
“You’re funny.” Smiling, I shook my head.
“No it’s true; I hear a lot of prayers like that.” That statement brought home her angelic nature to me. Thinking of her listening to prayers and trying to help grant them was heady stuff, yet I felt remarkably focused and grounded by the thought.
“I feel strangely clearer headed near you. Why is that?” I began to pace around in a less graceful imitation of her movements. It was a bit like being a moon that was caught in her gravity.
“Angels can focus your mind, on what you really want.” She stopped and looked intently at me.
“Well then I want you!” The words came bursting out of me. I didn’t censor myself and I could see disappointment in her eyes.
“Bo, you don’t understand yet. I’m a helper, sent to aid and protect.”
“God made you in His own image. You’re his child and very precious, someday you’ll join him in heaven.” She began to move again. There seemed to be a rhythm and a pattern to her movements.
“Are you sure? It seems like human beings do an awful lot of things that are hardly very god-like.” I was as entranced by her graceful movements as I was by her voice.
“Bo, think of the night sky with its billions of galaxies each with its billion stars – God placed each of those stars – to show you who he is. Aren’t you in awe?” She completed the pattern of her movement and gave a graceful wave of her hand. The sky seemed to darken around us and small sparks of light hovered around. They formed into a pattern of constellations
I looked up at them in pure astonishment. “I guess I never thought of it that way.”
“God placed eternity for you to witness, all you have to do is look up.” Her voice was particularly gentle.
“I’ve wondered, especially after losing Sally, what’s it all for?” There was a familiar bitterness in my heart that had been there since her death. It felt as though Gabriella’s words were starting to draw that bitterness out like poison from a wound.
“God’s plan is full of wonder and there definitely is a purpose.” She sounded serene and confident.
“Can you tell me what that plan is? What was the purpose in Sally’s death?”
“That’s not for me to say. You’ll have to wait and let the plan unfold for you.” She came to me and took my hands in hers. Her hands were smooth as silk and pleasantly warm to the touch. The warmth seemed to spread directly to my heart.
I felt my heart begin to burn. Not in an unpleasant way but in a way that invigorated me and made me curious. “When did it all begin? Was there anything before God?” I tried to take her words and make the idea of God and God’s plan make concrete sense to me.
She shook her head and removed her hands from mine. “You wouldn’t understand, not yet at least.”
“Try me please, Gabriella.”
She gave my shoulder a light squeeze. “Call me Gabby, Bo.”
“Okay, Gabby, please try to explain as simply as you can.”
“Well think of it this way. God, the maker of heaven and earth and all that is…I don’t know if I should be telling you this.” She seemed uncertain. Briefly her hands twisted together.
“Please, go on. This is the most fascinating conversation I’ve ever had.” I looked over at Bran. He was still swinging happily and laughing. Reassured he was having a good time, I turned my attention back to my conversation with Gabby.
“Bo, He’s your father, your creator and your best friend. He’s known you since before time and part of you is with him now.”
“If that’s true then why do I feel like it’s only me here, now?” Gabby’s presence was a kind of proof that she was speaking the truth but I was still struggling to fully grasp what she was saying.
“It’s an earthly experience and a spiritual one. You asked for it. It’s his gift to you.” Gabby moved closer to me again but I stepped back. The bitterness wasn’t all gone from me yet. It seemed to increase again.
“I wouldn’t have asked for my wife to die and leave my kids without a mother!”
“God is good all the time, Bo, he gave you exactly what you asked for. But, things don’t always turn out as planned.” She looked saddened by my step back.
“Oh, so things can go wrong? Why does God let that happen?”
“It’s free will. It causes problems and that is why things aren’t perfect here. There is darkness in the world.” She gestured gracefully with her hands again and I found myself surrounded by a cage made of silver bars.
I looked around me at the cage in alarm. “What are you showing me? That the darkness gets us off track. It imprisons us?”
“Not really, but it definitely keeps you from seeing. If there weren’t free will it would be like you were in this cage all the time; confined and unable to do what you really wanted to do. Having free will liberates you to make your own choices. Unfortunately there is nobody who is perfect and will never make bad choices.”
She waived her hands again and the cage was gone. “Bo, I know you won’t understand fully, but part of you - the biggest part, is with Him now, and so is Sally.”
“Gabby, you’re blowing my mind…”
“Bo, your soul is huge and it shines. It’s truly beautiful. Sally’s with you, that’s why she can’t be missing you. She knows only part of you is here. A small part of a soul you share, with her, your kids and others here on earth.”
My mouth may have been gaping open a little bit. “You’re right I don’t understand. Me and the kids and Sally all share the same soul?”
“Not exactly, you’re part of the same soul, and it’s bigger than anything you could ever imagine.”
“Oh my God.” There was a ring of truth to her words, but I was struggling to believe it in my heart.
“And still, all of heaven will rejoice when you return. Don’t worry, you’re not supposed to understand, it will all be clear someday.” I didn’t step back this time when Gabby moved forward and briefly hugged me.
“So I should be nicer to the lady at the market, she could be me. Or our soul together…” My words trailed off as I realized how important every person is.
“She has a unique personality, just like you.”
“But, deep down? I mean not everyone is nice.”
Gabby nodded. “Not everyone is of the light. You must be careful and learn to know the difference.”
Now If felt like we were getting somewhere. “Are you here to teach me?”
“If you will allow me, I can show you.”
I imagined what I could learn from Gabby and became excited. “Teach me, please.”
“Bo, I have a favor to ask.”
I couldn’t imagine what she would need from me. “What is it Gabby? Ask me anything, but what could you possibly need from me?”
“I want you to come with me now, we haven’t much time. You’ll need to call Kiki to come I pulled out my cell and texted my niece, “Honey, please come and get Bran, take him upstairs to the room with you, got something to do, be back later.”
It’s a good thing the kids love Kiki, having her to help is a Godsend.
CHAPTER TWO
Gabby led me from behind the motel to the brightly colored Main Street lined with shops. Our destination was a quaint old-fashioned Five and Dime. Zeb’s Country Store was located in a cheerful clapboard building. It was summer yellow with a big green and black shingle-style sign to mark the store. The diagonal parking lot and front porch were reminiscent of a bygone era before malls and big box stores. What struck me first when we walked up was the Harley Chopper parked outside. It seemed strangely out of place somehow, but I was becoming more intuitive around Gabby. I noticed that the bike was brand new and custom raked a long low 30 degrees. Everything on the frame was black including the V-Twin engine. Airbrushed skull and cross bones adorned the tank and the mini-ape handlebars were topped with thick twin chrome mirrors. The front forks and part of the shotgun steel exhaust pipes were chrome; otherwise the Street Bob was jet black. It was the motorcycle of my dreams.
Bar Harbor has a long history as a playground of the rich and famous. I figured the bike belonged to some fifty-something bank exec trying to find his lost youth, and maybe some sweet thing in the bargain. At least it wasn’t a corvette, which would have been even more cliché. The odd thing was the solo seat. It was small and made of light grain saddle leather; barely room enough for a rider and maybe an occasional someone sitting half on the fender. Most of the older guys who drive hogs have oversized double decker seats with sissy bars so their wives don’t slip off. This seat was awkwardly small, a passenger would have to hold on for dear life or risk falling over the rear bumper.
“You can wait outside, if you like,” Gabby’s voice was sweet and melodious. The sound of it tickled me.
“No, I’m thirsty. This old place probably has Tab, I haven’t had one since I was a kid.” Back then, I used to grocery shop on Saturdays with my mom. She always let me get a soda from the cooler in the back of the store. I remember the raised glass bottles were heavy. It was billed as some kind of ladies diet drink, but I thought it tasted like Coke. Mom thought it might be better without all the sugar. I developed a taste for Tab and it reminds me of my mother of those days.
“Okay, suit yourself.”
“Gabby, maybe I could get you what you need?” I paused and looked Gabby up and down. “You’re not really dressed to go into a store.” She was wearing a long robe that flowed down over her petite frame. It was lovely but also practically see-through. She was also not wearing shoes. Her bare feet were adorable, the prettiest most perfect toes I’d ever seen. Still, I pointed to the sign on the door – “No shirt, No shoes, No service.”
Gabby turned and tilted her head to the side. She stared into my eyes as though she was trying to read my mind and figure out what she should wear. I watched as she quickly changed into at least ten different outfits without ever having to actually change clothes. The rapid succession made me lose count. First there was a blue off the shoulder mini dress with matching heels, and then, lightning-fast, that changed into a zebra print dress with one shoulder strap and gold flats. She kept eye contact with me as her outfits were changing. I kept mentally repeating, “Gorgeous,” with each beautiful outfit, but she obviously wasn’t stopping until she got the reaction she was looking for. Gabby paused on a knee-length floral with bone white platforms that laced around her ankle.
“You’re so fickle, Bo, I can’t get a fix on what you like. It seems you can’t make up your mind.”
“I’m sorry, I guess I’m picturing you in everything, my mind is racing.” Normally my mind doesn’t work this fast. It felt like being around her was making me smarter.
“Well, try and concentrate – what would you have me wear, you know, if it could be anything?”
“Right now?”
“Yes, focus on one outfit. Something that is appropriate for me to wear now. Can you do that?” Gabby went back to staring into my eyes. Maybe the cool bike influenced me. I pictured her in tight jeans that showed off her backside. They were dark washed and gathered at the ankle. I pictured sleek patent leather stilettos in red for her feet. I couldn’t help topping the outfit off with a little chocolate brown leather biker jacket; worn over a testosterone teasing, midriff-tied, white cotton blouse. I fantasized a winged tramp stamp on the small of her back, just over her cute little dimples. That was when she frowned and shook her head. I’d obviously crossed a fashion line that even angels fear to tread.
“Am I okay to walk into a store now!?” She teased. “You’re really quite a fashionista, aren’t you, Bo?”
“I wanted you to blend in.” I realized immediately how stupid that sounded. This girl was a knockout and all eyes would be on her wherever she goes. No matter what she was wearing.
“Well, I’ve never had any problem before. Try to loosen up a bit, Bo. Uptight is not attractive.” She scolded. “You didn’t answer me. Is this okay?” She asked, adding a sexy glow that emanated from her like a halo.
I gaped at her. “That’s amazing. How did you do that?”
“An angel has to have her secrets.” She answered batting her long dark eyelashes.
“You’re like the perfect fantasy girl, Gabby!” I felt guilty hearing those words come out of my mouth. I’m the grieving widower, who was happily married and a father. Here I was acting like an inexperienced teenage boy around Gabby.
“Enough beating yourself up, Silly Boy, you’re having a natural reaction to being around an angel. Come now, it’s time. Follow me if you’re coming.” Gabby walked one foot in front of the other - a slinky walk that stole my breath and nearly stopped my heart. She paused just short of the worn-gray one-step landing. “Stay to my right, please.”
CHAPTER THREE
The door chimes at the top of the old door rang, signaling our arrival. Other than the little bells jingling, everything seemed too quiet. I quickly surveyed the room sensing something was wrong. More often than not you would get a friendly greeting when you entered a store, especially in a small one-person shop. The shopkeeper would normally be so glad to see a customer or have anyone stop by. Not here, not today, something was off.
The store itself was normal - laid out the usual way with a few grocery isles to make the state happy. Maine has a stupid rule that small stores must stock at least a certain dollar figure of groceries in order to maintain a license to sell beer, wine, and cigarettes. That’s how the proprietor makes his money. To meet the requirement variety stores usually stock a few isles of dust covered groceries conveniently priced at three times normal. The right side of the store was reserved for groceries, leaving the left side of Zeb’s lined with a neat display of old- fashioned beer coolers. A dark oak, glass front counter had pride of the place at the back of the store. It was topped by and old-fashioned brass cash register.
What seemed odd to me was the way the shopkeeper continued staring straight ahead without saying anything. Not even a friendly, “What can I do you for,” when we walked in. A tall, heavy-set biker stood faced toward the counter between the closest beer cooler and the center aisle. His massive bulk, greasy ponytail, and leather vest made him look ominous. Gorilla hairy except for his shaved arms completely inked with skulls, daggers, and black lettering. The words so stretched over his skin you could barely make out the ink. I always give guys like him a wide berth.
“Don’t worry, Bo,” Gabby offered reassuringly as she walked straight up to the counter as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Standing side by side with the tattooed giant,
“Do you have Tab,” she asked. “My boyfriend would like one.” Her voice was so cute I had to smile. I loved hearing Gabby call me her boyfriend. Even if it was just for show, I played along.
The shopkeeper was shaking his head and biting his lip. I knew he wanted us to just turn around and walk away. The sooner the better, if I was judging his demeanor correctly. I was beginning to feel and sense things around Gabby. It felt like my brain was finally waking up from a long slumber and making connections that I never made before.
The big man turned to face my angel, towering over her, even in her heels. “They’re fresh out, Missy,” he barked, trying to intimidate, “Why don’t you and your little girly man save yourself the trouble, and just leave.”
The storekeeper’s eyes were pleading with us to go. Gabby was undaunted. She turned toward him, “Is that any way to speak to a lady, Wesley?” She asked so fearlessly. It was sexy. I’ve never seen anything like it and I was falling in love.
“How did you know my name you prissy little bitch?”
Gabby stood toe to toe with him. “The same way I know you’re wearing your mother’s underwear, you big pussy-ass fat bastard!”
She’d obviously struck a nerve. Wesley breathed in deep and stood to his full height puffing out his chest. He lifted his fat arm, exposing a grotesque wad of black underarm hair. He pointed a platinum-plated 44 magnum at Gabby’s face. “I’ve heard about a fucking-nuff out of you, whore!” He snapped red faced obviously embarrassed by her perceptive reading of him.
Gabby looked at him with contempt. “Oh, shut your bad breath, foul smelling, ugly trap, Wesley, you big-girl phony.”
“Are you done? Slut!” He raged, “Who dies first,” he growled, “you or your little girlfriend.” He pointed the gun back toward me.
“You wanna go first, Fuck!?” He asked, “Or maybe I should let you watch while your little bitch bleeds. How would you like that, Princess?” He cocked the gun.
I was tiring of the fat man. I’ve been called wiry and rugged, even handsome, but never girly or princess. Gaby’s confidence inspired a supreme sense of calm. I was searching my memory for the right words, something droll to say. It wasn’t every day I had the protection of an angel of God. I wanted to say something that would impress her and make me sound cool, like Clint Eastwood. Before I could think of anything Gabby kicked her red heel high into the fat man’s chest, sending him flying into the closest beer cooler. With the force of a projectile, his body hit the back of the antique cooler, shattering through the glass doors and bursting the contents. Beer cans were flying out spurting everywhere, rolling past me squirting their foamy contents all over the floor. The heavy impact caused the store alarm to go off.
It all felt surreal. What’s wrong with this picture? There was a dead body, broken glass, beer spraying all over the place. A half hour ago I was lying down on the seat plank of a picnic table taking a nap, relaxing. Now I’m accessory to murder, with an angel. That’s going to be tough to explain.
Gabby turned to me, “Are you okay?”
I was flabbergasted. “I didn’t know angels killed people?”
“They don’t, Bo, that guy was already dead!” She whispered to me. Gabby looked at the body of the biker and whispered, “Jesus.” While the sweet fragrance of His name was still on her lips, a dark shadow left Wesley’s body, disappearing like black vapor through the sidewall of the store.
“It’s going to be fine.” Gabby reassured the man behind the counter. She went to him and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He was understandably very upset.
“You didn’t see anything. You don’t have to remember what happened.”
“I didn’t see anything,” he repeated her words, shaky and dumbfounded.
She turned to me, “Bo, we’d better go. You’re right; this would be tough to explain.”
“You read my mind?”
She grinned at me. “Yeah, get used to it.”
“Did you know all this was going to happen?”
Gabby shrugged. “No, I usually get my orders just before He needs me.”
“Oh, you find out just before?”
Gabby winked at me. “Don’t worry, He never gives me more than I can handle.”
“Good thing!”
Gabby, Angel of God
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How quickly life can change. A sixteen-year-old girl texting while driving took the best part of us away, leaving two innocent kids without their mom. The most wonderful woman to ever walk the earth, my beautiful Sally, pinned against an icy guardrail, bravely clinging to her last moments of life.
“Tell Bo I’ll miss him terribly,” and, “please, tell my precious babies, Mommy loves them so much.” Tears filled her eyes, “I won’t be there to see you grow up.”
The car severed her just above the hip. The paramedics told her the truth, pulling the car away would cost the brief time she had left. Sally laughed, nervously asking for something to write on. My beautiful wife spent her last minutes writing, “Dearest family, I love you, I have had the most wonderful life, try not to be sad. Try to hold on to the good memories.” She signed, “Mommy,” and, “I’m so sorry, Sweetheart.”
I’m welding now, for Bath Iron works, a shipbuilder based on the Portland Waterfront. It’s steady work –building Arleigh Burke class destroyers, for the U.S. Navy. I had to do something with my hands to keep busy or else lose my mind. Grief can do that. Work helps me forget.
I must have dosed off. My eyes slowly open to the blinding brightness of the noonday sun. Turning sideways I catch a glimpse of my son Brandon swinging stomach first, but there’s something else, oddly out of place. I can’t explain it. A girl, a young woman maybe, is standing too close. Who does that? No one gets that close to someone else’s kid. What is she doing? She looks over at me, as though she would like to answer. I sense her thoughts as she realizes that I see her. My heartbeat quickens, I count three quick thumps – before I figure out what to do - she’s gone. What was that? Who could she be? This is crazy – someone was there then suddenly disappears. I have to question my sanity.
“Please come back,” I plead, mentally. “Whoever you are, whatever you are, I’ll wonder for the rest of my life! That’s not fair!” Maybe she wasn’t so gentle. My mind is racing now; Brandon is still swinging peacefully – oblivious, to what I’ve witnessed.
I ask anyway, hopeful, “Hey Bran? Who was that next to you?”
“I’m swinging by myself, Daddy.” He is giggling at me, his answer so matter-of-fact. I get chills.
Okay, I’ve finally cracked. To my credit it did take a while for me to lose my mind. I’ve put up a good fight the last two and a half years, but now I’m seeing things. For months after Sally died I waited, hoping she’d show herself – to somehow let me know she was okay. Surely our love could bridge the gap between death and life. If anyone would try - it would be her. I thought the chimes were Sally, the birds chirping, butterflies – the stern rustling of the leaves; it was all just dreaming. Now I’ve really lost it; for five seconds at least, I saw the most beautiful woman, as plain as the nose on my face. Then she disappeared. No one will believe me. The guys at work don’t understand stuff like this. I can’t trust anyone with this information. I thought I was a survivor and losing my wife hadn’t made me crazy. Now I can no longer say that. What am I going to do? If I tell – I risk losing my kids. I sit up and take a series of deep breaths to clear my head.
“You have the most beautiful faith.” I hear in my mind. It’s finally happened - I’ve completely cracked. I’m seeing things and hearing voices.
“You’re not seeing things, Bo. Look beside you, I’m here.”
My God. This is real. The most amazing creature is sitting beside me speaking directly to my mind. Now of all times, I can’t talk. My lips are frozen.
“Are you real!?” I manage to ask mentally, overly stimulated.
She delicately places her hand on my arm, “Yes, I’m real.” She smiles, gently shaking her head. “You must have been so at peace. True rest is a gift from God.” When she thinks of God, I fall limp. She catches me, cradling my head in her lap.
“Who are you?” I think to ask. She leans over, blows sweet breath into my face, breathing a message without moving her lips, communicating as if she were making love. I understand the truth. She is Gabriella, a messenger of God. A guardian sent to intervene wherever she is needed. She is not the most powerful angel. Others far greater guard the outer edges of the earth. She is here only briefly, to help change the course of events.
“Bo,” It’s funny, I’m hearing her dulcet voice aloud with my ears. “Your faith must be very strong for you to witness.”
“Well it’s going to be a lot stronger now. This is incredible…It’s amazing…You’re amazing!”
“Bo?”
“Yes, Gabriella?”
“Sally’s in a place of peace and love.”
The angel knew that’s what I’d ask. “Is she happy, does she miss us? Where is she?”
“Slow down, I can’t give you the details, but you’ll see her again. True love always finds its way in heaven. That’s all I can tell you.”
“Thank you, that’s the best thing you could have said.”
“You are blessed, Bo.”
“Your voice?”
“Yes, Bo?”
“It’s like hearing the sweetest melody, say something, anything – please, it’s beautiful.”
“I bet you say that to all the angels.” The beautiful voice is teasing now.
“You are the first angel I have seen. Are all angels female?” I was still gazing in wonder at her beautiful face.
“I see…” Gabriella looked pensively, and then answered, “Angels can be male or female, Bo.”
“One or the other, I hope.” I said, trying to tease her back.
“You’re funny,” she laughed. “I’m a female angel, very female, don’t worry.”
“Well, you’re lovely, ‘breathtakingly feminine!” I was trying and failing to suppress my admiration.
She giggled, “You’re sweet, we are not learning so we angels display perfection, the ideal possible in humanity.”
“You’re beautiful in every sense, Gabriella. Your skin, your hair – you’re perfect.” She is the most desirable woman I have ever seen.
“We’re archetypes, Bo, modeled after men and women. Not the other way around.”
I have the strangest sensation, like I'm drawn to this angel. The feeling is overwhelming.
“Bo, that's why angels never show themselves, we are irresistible to humans. It's not your fault.”
“It’s strange, you’re reading my mind.” I can’t keep my thoughts secret from you?’
“I’m afraid not, I hear your thoughts as easily as if you were speaking them.” She began to walk, with a gentle gait that was as graceful as dancing, around me.
“Sally would have loved to be able to hear my thoughts like that.”
“What girl wouldn’t want to know what her man was thinking?” She continued pacing, seemingly filled with an excess of energy that she needed to vent by moving.
“You’re funny.” Smiling, I shook my head.
“No it’s true; I hear a lot of prayers like that.” That statement brought home her angelic nature to me. Thinking of her listening to prayers and trying to help grant them was heady stuff, yet I felt remarkably focused and grounded by the thought.
“I feel strangely clearer headed near you. Why is that?” I began to pace around in a less graceful imitation of her movements. It was a bit like being a moon that was caught in her gravity.
“Angels can focus your mind, on what you really want.” She stopped and looked intently at me.
“Well then I want you!” The words came bursting out of me. I didn’t censor myself and I could see disappointment in her eyes.
“Bo, you don’t understand yet. I’m a helper, sent to aid and protect.”
“God made you in His own image. You’re his child and very precious, someday you’ll join him in heaven.” She began to move again. There seemed to be a rhythm and a pattern to her movements.
“Are you sure? It seems like human beings do an awful lot of things that are hardly very god-like.” I was as entranced by her graceful movements as I was by her voice.
“Bo, think of the night sky with its billions of galaxies each with its billion stars – God placed each of those stars – to show you who he is. Aren’t you in awe?” She completed the pattern of her movement and gave a graceful wave of her hand. The sky seemed to darken around us and small sparks of light hovered around. They formed into a pattern of constellations
I looked up at them in pure astonishment. “I guess I never thought of it that way.”
“God placed eternity for you to witness, all you have to do is look up.” Her voice was particularly gentle.
“I’ve wondered, especially after losing Sally, what’s it all for?” There was a familiar bitterness in my heart that had been there since her death. It felt as though Gabriella’s words were starting to draw that bitterness out like poison from a wound.
“God’s plan is full of wonder and there definitely is a purpose.” She sounded serene and confident.
“Can you tell me what that plan is? What was the purpose in Sally’s death?”
“That’s not for me to say. You’ll have to wait and let the plan unfold for you.” She came to me and took my hands in hers. Her hands were smooth as silk and pleasantly warm to the touch. The warmth seemed to spread directly to my heart.
I felt my heart begin to burn. Not in an unpleasant way but in a way that invigorated me and made me curious. “When did it all begin? Was there anything before God?” I tried to take her words and make the idea of God and God’s plan make concrete sense to me.
She shook her head and removed her hands from mine. “You wouldn’t understand, not yet at least.”
“Try me please, Gabriella.”
She gave my shoulder a light squeeze. “Call me Gabby, Bo.”
“Okay, Gabby, please try to explain as simply as you can.”
“Well think of it this way. God, the maker of heaven and earth and all that is…I don’t know if I should be telling you this.” She seemed uncertain. Briefly her hands twisted together.
“Please, go on. This is the most fascinating conversation I’ve ever had.” I looked over at Bran. He was still swinging happily and laughing. Reassured he was having a good time, I turned my attention back to my conversation with Gabby.
“Bo, He’s your father, your creator and your best friend. He’s known you since before time and part of you is with him now.”
“If that’s true then why do I feel like it’s only me here, now?” Gabby’s presence was a kind of proof that she was speaking the truth but I was still struggling to fully grasp what she was saying.
“It’s an earthly experience and a spiritual one. You asked for it. It’s his gift to you.” Gabby moved closer to me again but I stepped back. The bitterness wasn’t all gone from me yet. It seemed to increase again.
“I wouldn’t have asked for my wife to die and leave my kids without a mother!”
“God is good all the time, Bo, he gave you exactly what you asked for. But, things don’t always turn out as planned.” She looked saddened by my step back.
“Oh, so things can go wrong? Why does God let that happen?”
“It’s free will. It causes problems and that is why things aren’t perfect here. There is darkness in the world.” She gestured gracefully with her hands again and I found myself surrounded by a cage made of silver bars.
I looked around me at the cage in alarm. “What are you showing me? That the darkness gets us off track. It imprisons us?”
“Not really, but it definitely keeps you from seeing. If there weren’t free will it would be like you were in this cage all the time; confined and unable to do what you really wanted to do. Having free will liberates you to make your own choices. Unfortunately there is nobody who is perfect and will never make bad choices.”
She waived her hands again and the cage was gone. “Bo, I know you won’t understand fully, but part of you - the biggest part, is with Him now, and so is Sally.”
“Gabby, you’re blowing my mind…”
“Bo, your soul is huge and it shines. It’s truly beautiful. Sally’s with you, that’s why she can’t be missing you. She knows only part of you is here. A small part of a soul you share, with her, your kids and others here on earth.”
My mouth may have been gaping open a little bit. “You’re right I don’t understand. Me and the kids and Sally all share the same soul?”
“Not exactly, you’re part of the same soul, and it’s bigger than anything you could ever imagine.”
“Oh my God.” There was a ring of truth to her words, but I was struggling to believe it in my heart.
“And still, all of heaven will rejoice when you return. Don’t worry, you’re not supposed to understand, it will all be clear someday.” I didn’t step back this time when Gabby moved forward and briefly hugged me.
“So I should be nicer to the lady at the market, she could be me. Or our soul together…” My words trailed off as I realized how important every person is.
“She has a unique personality, just like you.”
“But, deep down? I mean not everyone is nice.”
Gabby nodded. “Not everyone is of the light. You must be careful and learn to know the difference.”
Now If felt like we were getting somewhere. “Are you here to teach me?”
“If you will allow me, I can show you.”
I imagined what I could learn from Gabby and became excited. “Teach me, please.”
“Bo, I have a favor to ask.”
I couldn’t imagine what she would need from me. “What is it Gabby? Ask me anything, but what could you possibly need from me?”
“I want you to come with me now, we haven’t much time. You’ll need to call Kiki to come I pulled out my cell and texted my niece, “Honey, please come and get Bran, take him upstairs to the room with you, got something to do, be back later.”
It’s a good thing the kids love Kiki, having her to help is a Godsend.
CHAPTER TWO
Gabby led me from behind the motel to the brightly colored Main Street lined with shops. Our destination was a quaint old-fashioned Five and Dime. Zeb’s Country Store was located in a cheerful clapboard building. It was summer yellow with a big green and black shingle-style sign to mark the store. The diagonal parking lot and front porch were reminiscent of a bygone era before malls and big box stores. What struck me first when we walked up was the Harley Chopper parked outside. It seemed strangely out of place somehow, but I was becoming more intuitive around Gabby. I noticed that the bike was brand new and custom raked a long low 30 degrees. Everything on the frame was black including the V-Twin engine. Airbrushed skull and cross bones adorned the tank and the mini-ape handlebars were topped with thick twin chrome mirrors. The front forks and part of the shotgun steel exhaust pipes were chrome; otherwise the Street Bob was jet black. It was the motorcycle of my dreams.
Bar Harbor has a long history as a playground of the rich and famous. I figured the bike belonged to some fifty-something bank exec trying to find his lost youth, and maybe some sweet thing in the bargain. At least it wasn’t a corvette, which would have been even more cliché. The odd thing was the solo seat. It was small and made of light grain saddle leather; barely room enough for a rider and maybe an occasional someone sitting half on the fender. Most of the older guys who drive hogs have oversized double decker seats with sissy bars so their wives don’t slip off. This seat was awkwardly small, a passenger would have to hold on for dear life or risk falling over the rear bumper.
“You can wait outside, if you like,” Gabby’s voice was sweet and melodious. The sound of it tickled me.
“No, I’m thirsty. This old place probably has Tab, I haven’t had one since I was a kid.” Back then, I used to grocery shop on Saturdays with my mom. She always let me get a soda from the cooler in the back of the store. I remember the raised glass bottles were heavy. It was billed as some kind of ladies diet drink, but I thought it tasted like Coke. Mom thought it might be better without all the sugar. I developed a taste for Tab and it reminds me of my mother of those days.
“Okay, suit yourself.”
“Gabby, maybe I could get you what you need?” I paused and looked Gabby up and down. “You’re not really dressed to go into a store.” She was wearing a long robe that flowed down over her petite frame. It was lovely but also practically see-through. She was also not wearing shoes. Her bare feet were adorable, the prettiest most perfect toes I’d ever seen. Still, I pointed to the sign on the door – “No shirt, No shoes, No service.”
Gabby turned and tilted her head to the side. She stared into my eyes as though she was trying to read my mind and figure out what she should wear. I watched as she quickly changed into at least ten different outfits without ever having to actually change clothes. The rapid succession made me lose count. First there was a blue off the shoulder mini dress with matching heels, and then, lightning-fast, that changed into a zebra print dress with one shoulder strap and gold flats. She kept eye contact with me as her outfits were changing. I kept mentally repeating, “Gorgeous,” with each beautiful outfit, but she obviously wasn’t stopping until she got the reaction she was looking for. Gabby paused on a knee-length floral with bone white platforms that laced around her ankle.
“You’re so fickle, Bo, I can’t get a fix on what you like. It seems you can’t make up your mind.”
“I’m sorry, I guess I’m picturing you in everything, my mind is racing.” Normally my mind doesn’t work this fast. It felt like being around her was making me smarter.
“Well, try and concentrate – what would you have me wear, you know, if it could be anything?”
“Right now?”
“Yes, focus on one outfit. Something that is appropriate for me to wear now. Can you do that?” Gabby went back to staring into my eyes. Maybe the cool bike influenced me. I pictured her in tight jeans that showed off her backside. They were dark washed and gathered at the ankle. I pictured sleek patent leather stilettos in red for her feet. I couldn’t help topping the outfit off with a little chocolate brown leather biker jacket; worn over a testosterone teasing, midriff-tied, white cotton blouse. I fantasized a winged tramp stamp on the small of her back, just over her cute little dimples. That was when she frowned and shook her head. I’d obviously crossed a fashion line that even angels fear to tread.
“Am I okay to walk into a store now!?” She teased. “You’re really quite a fashionista, aren’t you, Bo?”
“I wanted you to blend in.” I realized immediately how stupid that sounded. This girl was a knockout and all eyes would be on her wherever she goes. No matter what she was wearing.
“Well, I’ve never had any problem before. Try to loosen up a bit, Bo. Uptight is not attractive.” She scolded. “You didn’t answer me. Is this okay?” She asked, adding a sexy glow that emanated from her like a halo.
I gaped at her. “That’s amazing. How did you do that?”
“An angel has to have her secrets.” She answered batting her long dark eyelashes.
“You’re like the perfect fantasy girl, Gabby!” I felt guilty hearing those words come out of my mouth. I’m the grieving widower, who was happily married and a father. Here I was acting like an inexperienced teenage boy around Gabby.
“Enough beating yourself up, Silly Boy, you’re having a natural reaction to being around an angel. Come now, it’s time. Follow me if you’re coming.” Gabby walked one foot in front of the other - a slinky walk that stole my breath and nearly stopped my heart. She paused just short of the worn-gray one-step landing. “Stay to my right, please.”
CHAPTER THREE
The door chimes at the top of the old door rang, signaling our arrival. Other than the little bells jingling, everything seemed too quiet. I quickly surveyed the room sensing something was wrong. More often than not you would get a friendly greeting when you entered a store, especially in a small one-person shop. The shopkeeper would normally be so glad to see a customer or have anyone stop by. Not here, not today, something was off.
The store itself was normal - laid out the usual way with a few grocery isles to make the state happy. Maine has a stupid rule that small stores must stock at least a certain dollar figure of groceries in order to maintain a license to sell beer, wine, and cigarettes. That’s how the proprietor makes his money. To meet the requirement variety stores usually stock a few isles of dust covered groceries conveniently priced at three times normal. The right side of the store was reserved for groceries, leaving the left side of Zeb’s lined with a neat display of old- fashioned beer coolers. A dark oak, glass front counter had pride of the place at the back of the store. It was topped by and old-fashioned brass cash register.
What seemed odd to me was the way the shopkeeper continued staring straight ahead without saying anything. Not even a friendly, “What can I do you for,” when we walked in. A tall, heavy-set biker stood faced toward the counter between the closest beer cooler and the center aisle. His massive bulk, greasy ponytail, and leather vest made him look ominous. Gorilla hairy except for his shaved arms completely inked with skulls, daggers, and black lettering. The words so stretched over his skin you could barely make out the ink. I always give guys like him a wide berth.
“Don’t worry, Bo,” Gabby offered reassuringly as she walked straight up to the counter as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Standing side by side with the tattooed giant,
“Do you have Tab,” she asked. “My boyfriend would like one.” Her voice was so cute I had to smile. I loved hearing Gabby call me her boyfriend. Even if it was just for show, I played along.
The shopkeeper was shaking his head and biting his lip. I knew he wanted us to just turn around and walk away. The sooner the better, if I was judging his demeanor correctly. I was beginning to feel and sense things around Gabby. It felt like my brain was finally waking up from a long slumber and making connections that I never made before.
The big man turned to face my angel, towering over her, even in her heels. “They’re fresh out, Missy,” he barked, trying to intimidate, “Why don’t you and your little girly man save yourself the trouble, and just leave.”
The storekeeper’s eyes were pleading with us to go. Gabby was undaunted. She turned toward him, “Is that any way to speak to a lady, Wesley?” She asked so fearlessly. It was sexy. I’ve never seen anything like it and I was falling in love.
“How did you know my name you prissy little bitch?”
Gabby stood toe to toe with him. “The same way I know you’re wearing your mother’s underwear, you big pussy-ass fat bastard!”
She’d obviously struck a nerve. Wesley breathed in deep and stood to his full height puffing out his chest. He lifted his fat arm, exposing a grotesque wad of black underarm hair. He pointed a platinum-plated 44 magnum at Gabby’s face. “I’ve heard about a fucking-nuff out of you, whore!” He snapped red faced obviously embarrassed by her perceptive reading of him.
Gabby looked at him with contempt. “Oh, shut your bad breath, foul smelling, ugly trap, Wesley, you big-girl phony.”
“Are you done? Slut!” He raged, “Who dies first,” he growled, “you or your little girlfriend.” He pointed the gun back toward me.
“You wanna go first, Fuck!?” He asked, “Or maybe I should let you watch while your little bitch bleeds. How would you like that, Princess?” He cocked the gun.
I was tiring of the fat man. I’ve been called wiry and rugged, even handsome, but never girly or princess. Gaby’s confidence inspired a supreme sense of calm. I was searching my memory for the right words, something droll to say. It wasn’t every day I had the protection of an angel of God. I wanted to say something that would impress her and make me sound cool, like Clint Eastwood. Before I could think of anything Gabby kicked her red heel high into the fat man’s chest, sending him flying into the closest beer cooler. With the force of a projectile, his body hit the back of the antique cooler, shattering through the glass doors and bursting the contents. Beer cans were flying out spurting everywhere, rolling past me squirting their foamy contents all over the floor. The heavy impact caused the store alarm to go off.
It all felt surreal. What’s wrong with this picture? There was a dead body, broken glass, beer spraying all over the place. A half hour ago I was lying down on the seat plank of a picnic table taking a nap, relaxing. Now I’m accessory to murder, with an angel. That’s going to be tough to explain.
Gabby turned to me, “Are you okay?”
I was flabbergasted. “I didn’t know angels killed people?”
“They don’t, Bo, that guy was already dead!” She whispered to me. Gabby looked at the body of the biker and whispered, “Jesus.” While the sweet fragrance of His name was still on her lips, a dark shadow left Wesley’s body, disappearing like black vapor through the sidewall of the store.
“It’s going to be fine.” Gabby reassured the man behind the counter. She went to him and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He was understandably very upset.
“You didn’t see anything. You don’t have to remember what happened.”
“I didn’t see anything,” he repeated her words, shaky and dumbfounded.
She turned to me, “Bo, we’d better go. You’re right; this would be tough to explain.”
“You read my mind?”
She grinned at me. “Yeah, get used to it.”
“Did you know all this was going to happen?”
Gabby shrugged. “No, I usually get my orders just before He needs me.”
“Oh, you find out just before?”
Gabby winked at me. “Don’t worry, He never gives me more than I can handle.”
“Good thing!”
Gabby, Angel of God
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