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A really long story about a lot of stuff and Mrs. Roosevelt…Part 3 Finis

Blizzard, Snow, Woman, Winter Clothes

“Best pizza I’ve ever had,” she said, reaching for another piece.

“Eat as much as you like, there’s more where that came from.”

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Call me, Ted,” he said.

“Is that your name?”

“No.  My name would hurt your ears.”

“Sure it would,” she said, tearing the crust off another slice of pizza.  “Great crust. It’s perfect.”

“It would be.  I know what you like, duh!”

“Did you just say DUH?”

“Yes, Page, I just said Duh.”

“What’s happening to you Ted?  Am I rubbing off on you?  You’re not as angelic as you were when this all started.”

“I’m not?” he asked, siting up straighter.  Mrs. Roosevelt hissed and unsheathed her claws in an extremely threatening manner.  He looked at her and growled.  Mrs. Roosevelt fluffed up, spit at him, then slashed him across the cheek.

“You didn’t think you would win that one, did you?”

“Yes.”

“She’s a CAT.  Cats always win.  Don’t even think about growling at her again.”

He looked at Mrs. Roosevelt and said,  “Sorry.”  She accepted his apology, jumped off of his lap and went into the kitchen to see if the food she was given met with her gourmet-like standards.”

“You know people from New York do this with their pizza,” she said, folding a slice in half.  “Madness, if you ask me. You fold laundry, not pizza. So tell me about my brother Steve.”

“No.”

“Where does he live?”

“No.”

“He must be, what?  Eight years older than I am?”

“No.”

“No, he’s not that much older than I am, or no in general?”

“In general.”

“Do you watch me sleep?”

“Rarely.  A lot of what I do is really boring.”

“I can only imagine.”

“I don’t think you can.”

“What are you made out of?”

“What?” he asked, smiling.  “What am I made out of?”

“It’s a fair question.  I mean I’m flesh and bones and muscles, and icky, slimy, stuff inside.  I have a heart, a brain and a liver.  I can tear, break and get sick.  My cells get old and don’t replicate like they used to, which goes to disprove the stupid, IF YOU DON’T USE IT YOU LOSE IT, garbage people always say.  But you aren’t made of any of that, are you?”

“No.”

“What if we took an X-ray of your body?  What would show up?  OMG  Are you like like a vampire and you won’t show up on pictures?” she asked, excitedly, pulling out her phone, taking a picture of him.

“Vampire?  Really?” he sighed.

“Why not?  You could be anything at all.  Oh, the picture turned out great,” she said, staring at it.  “Maybe I’m dreaming this whole thing, or maybe I had a bad lettuce leaf at lunch and now I have some kind of brain-lettuce thing going on.  Are you an AI?”

“No.”

“You’re not very forthcoming.”

“You’re kidding,” he said.  “Guarding Angels NEVER SHOW THEMSELVES TO THE ONE THEY GURAD.”

“Obviously that’s no long true and did you mean to yell?”

“No.”

“Then why did you?”

He stared at her and then looked down.  He sighed, put his arms on the back of the couch, then he leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees.  Then he sat up again.

“Take you’re time.  Unless, of course, my time is up, then you’ll need to get to the point as quickly as possible.”

“You’re time is not up.”

“Good to know.  So?  What’s your problem?”

He shoved a cookie into his mouth.

“You have my permission to talk with your mouth full, Ted,” she snickered.  “You’ll feel a lot better if you just say whatever you have to say and get it over with.   It’s not good to keep it all whatever it is, scrunched up inside, no matter what you’re made out of.”

“Fine,” he said, standing up.  “Fine,” he said again, and sat down.  “I want to be human, so that I can be with you until we both die.”

“Rooowrr,” said Mrs. Roosevelt, from the kitchen.

“Can you do that?”

“Do what,” he asked, looking deflated.

“Become human and stay with me until we both die?”

“Oh, that.  Well, it would change everything.  I mean if we were together, it would  deviate from the path you’re supposed to be on and who knows where that would lead.  As for me, yes, I could do it, but I don’t know anything about being human.  I mean we watch all of you, but that’s not the same thing as being you.  We don’t experience pain, we’re never hungry or thirsty,  you know, all those human things you know about.  I mean you’d have to teach me everything and…why are you smiling?”

“No reason,” she said, grinning.  “Go on, what were you saying?”

“I’d have to get a JOB!” he said, running his hands through his hair.  “I don’t have a birth certificate.  I don’t know how to drive.  I would be able to bleed and die.”

“I don’t see a problem.”

He sputtered, closed his eyes and leaned back.  “She doesn’t see a problem,” he said, to no one in particular.  “All of those things are problems.”

“It just seems that way to you.  I can teach you most of those things and we can forge any papers you may need.  You can get a modeling job, I have a friend who would LOVE to put you on the cover of her magazine and all the things you mentioned are merely details.  But why would you want to become human?  You can live forever.  Nothing can happen to you.  You’re never in danger, never sick.  That’s a lot to give up.”

“I love you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Why?  You could do a lot better than me.”

He smiled.  “I’ve been in love with you for a very long time.”

“What if you don’t love me when you’re human?”

“Show me what kissing is like,” he asked, walking over to her chair.

“I,” she said, giving him her hand.

“I want to learn everything,” he whispered.  “Everything.”

“Oh, boy,” she muttered.  “How do you become human?  If you’re not human, you might not even feel the kiss.”

“Just like in the fairy tales,” he said.  “It’s the kiss that does it.”

She put her arms around him, leaned in, then put her lips against his…and just like that…with a very heavy sigh, her new life’s path began.

*****************

Finally.  The End.

 

 

 

A really long story about a lot of stuff and Mrs. Roosevelt…part 2

Blizzard, Snow, Woman, Winter Clothes

“I probably shouldn’t tell you this but your half brother looks just like you.  Well, not just like you, but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” she said.  “You probably shouldn’t tell me things like that.”

“Okay.  Forget I said anything.”

“Be honest, am I the first person you’ve ever guarded?” she asked, looking into her empty mug, wondering when she drank all of her hot chocolate.

“First of all, I’m always honest and second, no, you are not the first person I’ve ever guarded.”

“Must suck being honest all the time and how many have you guarded before me?  And what if there are more people alive than there are angels to guard them?”

“What?”

“Can that happen?  Can there be more people than angels?”

“Why would that happen?”

“Well, Mr. Guardian Angel, if there were a lot of people, compared to the static number of angels, then there wouldn’t be enough angels, to GUARD ALL THE PEOPLE.”

“You’re the second person I’ve guarded.”

“What happened to the first one?”

“He died.”

“Great.  Just my luck.”

“It wasn’t my fault.  And there won’t ever be more people than angels.”

“How did he die and you can’t know there won’t be more people than angels, not unless you can see into the future.  Can you see into the future?”

“He was slated to die and…”

“Slated to die?”

“Of course.  You don’t think you die by accident, do you?  You have an expiration date, like everything else.”

“You mean like milk…sell by….  When’s my expiration date?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Sure you can.”

“No.  I mean I CAN’T tell you because I don’t know what it is.  We can’t know until it’s almost time for you to exit.”

“Exit?  Like through a door in a bar?”

“Not a bar exactly.”

“Tell me there’s  a neon sign that says EXIT, with a arrow and a push bar on the door,” she giggled.  “I mean how perfect would THAT be?”

“Do you want more hot chocolate?”

“Yes.  Do you?”

“Do you want tiny marshmallows?” he asked.

“Sure.”

He nodded, and their mugs filled up.

“If you could DO that, why did you let me make the first batch?”

“I thought you wanted to make it.”

“This is better than what I made,” she said, taking another sip.

“I know.  I have it all the time.”

“Of course you do.  Now tell me why you’re here.”

“I’m here to guard you,” he said, leaning back, so that Mrs. Roosevelt could reposition herself on his lap.

“I hate that my cat likes you so much and what are you guarding me from?”

“I’m not allowed to tell you that.”

“Who’s going to stop you?  Is there like an angel patrol, or some sinister spy network, made up of…”

“No, it’s not like that.  It just wouldn’t be good for you.”

“Is Mrs. Roosevelt in danger?”

He shook his head.

“Is someone going to kill me?”

“If I keep answering your questions, you’ll get me to say things I’m not supposed to say.”

“Will you please go away and leave me alone.”

“I can disappear, but I’ll still be here.”

“Are you going to make me kill myself, just so I can get away from you?”

“No.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

“I’m not.  You’re just being silly.”

“No sex?  Ever?”

“You humans make too much of it.”

She thought for a moment, then said, “You’re right.”

“I am?”

“Yes.  We do a lot of things to relieve the boredom and insanity that is life.  People drink, do drugs, fight, hurt each other and have sex, and even kill themselves, just so they have something to do besides watch television.”

“Now you’re teasing me.  Or is that sarcasm?”

“It’s the truth.  We also eat a lot, she said, holding up a cookie.  If we’re busy doing all those things, it stops us from wanting to jump off bridges or tall buildings.”

“You have a bad attitude.”

“Maybe.  But I don’t think so.  You’ve never been alive, so you have nothing to actually say about it, since you have no experience.  I don’t know what it’s like to be you either.”

“Good point.”

“Can I shoot you, just to see what happens?”

“If it will make you happy, but wait until your cat goes away, just in case.”

“Deal.”

“Are you bored?”

“Just tired of the repetition.  Life is the same thing over and over again…like insanity…we hope it will be different each time, but it’s not.  Oh, there are variations on a theme, but basically, it’s just running on the wheel.  It doesn’t matter what color toothbrush you use, you’re still just brushing your teeth.  What’s it like for you?”

“The same, but we can’t jump off of a bridge, or tall building, without getting up and walking away.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So you’re like, forever?”

He nodded.  “As far as any of us know.”

“Nightmare.”

“We try not to think about it.”

“Don’t blame you.  At least we have hope that it will end.”

“You’re the lucky ones.”

“I think you’re right, although you guys aren’t trying to kill each other all the time.”

“That’s true.  We can’t kill each other, even if….”

“Do you want to do it?  Kill one of the other angels, I mean?”

“It happens.  We’ve been together a LONG time.  Forever, actually.”

“I can’t even imagine that.  We live for about five minutes and for some of us, that’s way too long.”

“Imagine how we feel.”

“Not possible.”

“Should I order a pizza or can you magic one up?”

“What do you want on it?”

“Do you want to move in? she asked.

“Why?  Because I can make pizza appear?”

“That’s not the worst reason I can think of.”

“I already live here.  Still, it’s nice to be asked.”

“Wait.  You LIVE here?”

“I’ve been with you since you were five and no, I don’t watch you every minute.  You do have privacy.”

“Mushrooms, spinach and pineapple.  Thin, crispy crust.”

*****************

Okay, now there’s going to be a part 3.  I can’t actually believe this.  It was going to be a short story but they will not stop and just get to the point.  Ack!  It will be over tomorrow for sure.

 

 

 

 

A really long story about a lot of stuff, and Mrs. Roosevelt…

Blizzard, Snow, Woman, Winter Clothes

She hurried down the street, not because of the cold, but because she had a lot lot do.  It seemed that she always a lot to do.  But, it’s also cold, she thought, as she nestled deeper into her scarf.  “Just tell yourself all the reasons you DO love living here,” she sighed.  “Winter doesn’t last forever, you know that.  It just feels as if it does.”  She started humming Beach Boys songs about blue skies and summer sun.

“Excuse me,” he said.  “Are you humming a song by the Beach Boys?”

“Maybe,” she said.

“Hate winter, right?”

“Maybe.”

“Do you want to get something hot to drink at the cafe?”

“Why would I want to do that?  I don’t know you.”

“Well, it’s freezing cold outside and if you have coffee wth me you’ll get to know me…so you won’t not know me anymore.”

“No thanks,”  she said, and kept walking.  “Why do I attract all the creepy guys?  Okay, maybe he wasn’t creepy but still, to just come up to me like that.  Really?”

He was sitting on the steps of her apartment building when she turned the corner.  “Great.  Now the police will be involved and all I want to do is…”

“Hi.  It’s me again,”  he said, waving a little.

“I can see that.  I’m going to call the police.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to tell me that before you do it.  I mean if I were a bad guy, well, it’s just that you should have called the police when you first saw me sitting here.”

She sat down next to him.  “Okay.  What’s your deal?  Just tell me and let’s get it over with. I do have a carry permit and I know how to use my gun…”

“Why don’t you have it out then?”

“Just tell me, please.  What the….

“…do I want?”

“Yes.”

“You might not believe me.  I mean, it’s going to sound weird, but…”

“I’m starting to hate you.”

“I’m your Guardian Angel.”

“Great,” she signed, getting up.  “Go guard someone else.  I have a hungry cat waiting for me.”

“Mrs.  Roosevelt?  She’s a nice cat.  I like the name, even it it is a little long.  She was a great lady.”

“How do you know about my cat?  Have you been bothering my neighbors?”

“I told you, I’m your Guardian Angel.  I have a thick file on you, so I pretty much know everything about you.  I mean yours isn’t as thick as a lot of other files I’ve seen.  You lead a pretty simple life.  You wouldn’t believe how fat some of the other ones are,” he said, showing her with his hands.  “You mothers name is Lotus and your father’s name is Ian.  Lotus is a weird name.  It doesn’t come up that often.  You are an only child.  Well, you really aren’t.  Your father met this girl when he was in college, so you have a brother, named Steve, but your dad doesn’t know about him.  If you tell him, he won’t even remember her name, anymore than she remembers his.  It was just one of those things. Anyway…”

“I have a brother?”

“Half brother.  Different mother.  But don’t worry, he’s happy and it’s not a problem.  You’ll never meet him and no one will ever know about the link to your family.”

“What if I want to know him?”

“Sorry, not meant to be this time around.”

“This time AROUND?”

“Sure, you all just keep coming back, over and over again, like insane insects who never learn to…”

“I get it,” she said.  “Look, I’m freezing to death and I’m going inside.”

“What about me?”

“What about you?”

“Can I come inside?”

“Why?”

“To finish talking?”

“No.”

“But most people want to talk to their angel.”

“I’m not most people.  I couldn’t care less and, if it’s at all possible, go talk to someone else. I don’t actually care what you do, just do whatever it is away from me.”

“Wow,” he said.  “You’re a tough one.”

“I’m a cold and busy one, now go away or I’ll shoot you.”

“Really?  You’d shoot me?”

“Do angels die?”

“No.”

“Then how can I kill you?”

“I don’t think you can,” he said, frowning.

“Great,” she muttered, shoving her key into the lock.

“You’re jaded.

“Whatever,” she said, going inside and closing the door.

He was standing next to her apartment door.

“There has to be a way to kill you,” she said, pushing past him.  “I’ll google it.”

“There isn’t,” he said.  “You can’t kill something that’s not truly alive. “Oh, kitty, kitty,” he said, opening his arms.

Mrs. Roosevelt unashamedly leapt into those arms and began to purr.

“If I shoot you, what will happen,” she asked, pointing her gun at him.

“You’ll make a hole in whatever is behind me, unless you miss and kill your cat.”

She put the gun down.

“Hot chocolate?” she called, from the kitchen.

“Yes, please.”

She put cat food and treats, on a china plate, and put it down on Mrs. Roosevelt’s lacy placemat, then she made hot chocolate.  She watered the two plants on the windowsill and got two mugs out of the cabinet.  She started singing Queen’s, I WANT IT ALL AND I WANT IT NOW, while she waited for the milk to get hot enough.  She took a few cookies out of a box and put them on a plate, stirred the hot chocolate, put everything onto a tray with a picture of the Eiffel Tower on it, and went into the living room.   “I don’t have any marshmallows.”

“Not a problem,” he said graciously, picking up a mug.

Mrs. Roosevelt was not pleased at being ignored, and bit him in the arm.  “Good girl,” he said, and ran his hand down her back.”

“Okay, You’re here, I’m here, we have drinks, now tell me how I can get rid of you forever.”

“You’d be in a lot of trouble, without me. People don’t really get that part.  We save all of you from terrible things, you just don’t know it.”

“Are you mixed up with god?”

“There is no god, there’s just us, and we work on a volunteer basis.”

“So, where did you come from?”

“We’ve always been here.”

“So you’re numbers never change?”

“No.”

“What about sex?”

“What about it?”

“Do you have it?  Can you have it?”

“No.”

“Bummer.”

“Well, your an animal, so you would think that.”

She choked on her hot chocolate, gasped for air and tried not to laugh.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m human,” she wheezed.  “None of us are okay.”

“I mean can you breathe?”

“Almost.”

“It would look really bad if you died while I was supposed to be guarding you.”

“Thanks,” she said.  “I’ll live, just to make you look good.”

“Thanks.”

“That was sarcasm.”

“What’s sarcasm?” he asked.

“Never mind,” she said, reaching for a cookie.

***************************************

End of part 1

I wasn’t planning on there being a part 2, but this is getting way too long and they aren’t finished yet.  So, part 2 tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

 

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