to wait for a bell to ring or something?”
“That’s just in the movies,” Zing said.
Carol asked, “So, no wings, or haloes, or harps?”
Zing shook her head. “We look human when we visit earth. That way we can blend in. When I go back to HQ, I’ll have to give up this body.”
“I miss you,” Miracle said.
“I’m not gone yet,” Zing said.
“I know, but I’m pre-missing you.”
“You really have to go back? Why can’t you stay?” Carol asked.
“My furlough is only for thirty days and Bertha—that’s my boss—would never allow an extension,” Zing said.
“Sounds like you’re in the army to me,” Carol said. She put her feet up on the ottoman.
“No, we don’t have an army, except that one time a long, long, time ago when Michael got all rebellious.”
Carol sighed. “How do we know you’re telling the truth? Maybe you’re just a sociopath.”
“Zing doesn’t lie,” Miracle said.
“How do you know that?” Carol asked.
Miracle put her hand on her heart. “I feel it here.”
Carol sat up straight and looked at Zing. “So tell me, do lesbians have their own separate guardian angels?”
“Yes. We all have our areas of specialty,” Zing said.
“You mean like departments?” Carol asked.
“Yes, I’m a lesbian guardian angel. Straight angels can’t protect a lesbian because it’s bad risk management.”
“Bad risk management?” Carol asked. She guffawed. She looked over at Miracle who was laughing, too.
“Lesbians have unique risks,” Zing said.
“Such as?” Carol sipped the last of her wine.
“I can’t go into that. It’s classified,” Zing said.
“I think you’re making all this up. I don’t know what you’re game is, but there’s no way you’re a real angel,” Carol said.
“I’m not making up anything.” Zing was offended. “Just because you don’t believe in something doesn’t mean it’s not real.” She stood. Color rushed to her cheeks and her eyes flashed brightly. “And just for the record, you make your guardian angel sad because you don’t believe in her. She did save you that time when you almost drowned in the creek the summer you spent out at your grandparents. The summer your parents were getting a divorce and you cried and cried every night. Her name, by the way, is Cathy,” Zing said.
“Cathy?” Carol asked.
“Yes. Cathy. And if you would stop being so cranky all the time, and open your heart to possibilities, something good might happen in your life for once. You always blame bad stuff on the world, but it’s really you who’s causing bad stuff to happen. So, put that in your thinking cap and smoke it,” Zing said. She raised her chin and marched out of the room.
There was a long pause. Finally, Carol said, “How’d she know about my parent’s divorce?”
“I think. . .” Miracle said softly.
Carol looked at her.
“. . . she’s the real deal,” Miracle said.
Carol blinked.
***
Zing went to her room and shut the door forcefully but carefully. She didn’t want to break anything in Miracle’s beautiful home. She was angry at Carol for not believing her. Being angry was an awful feeling. It was like she had swallowed a ball of fire and it made her insides churn and burn.
Zing flopped down belly-first on her bed and burst into hot, angry tears. She buried her head in her pillow and sobbed.
After a moment, Zing felt a hand on her back. She lifted up her head. It was Annabelle. “Carol doesn’t believe me,” Zing blubbered. “She thinks I’m lying.”
“Some people believe, though. People like Miracle and Nell,” Annabelle said, handing her a tissue. “Other people, like Carol, have to see things to believe them. Faith isn’t good enough for them.”
“How can I make her believe me?”
“You can’t. She has to do it herself. Give her time,” Annabelle said. “The truth always wins out.”
“What did people do without tissues?” Zing asked. She blew her nose and wiped her
“That’s just in the movies,” Zing said.
Carol asked, “So, no wings, or haloes, or harps?”
Zing shook her head. “We look human when we visit earth. That way we can blend in. When I go back to HQ, I’ll have to give up this body.”
“I miss you,” Miracle said.
“I’m not gone yet,” Zing said.
“I know, but I’m pre-missing you.”
“You really have to go back? Why can’t you stay?” Carol asked.
“My furlough is only for thirty days and Bertha—that’s my boss—would never allow an extension,” Zing said.
“Sounds like you’re in the army to me,” Carol said. She put her feet up on the ottoman.
“No, we don’t have an army, except that one time a long, long, time ago when Michael got all rebellious.”
Carol sighed. “How do we know you’re telling the truth? Maybe you’re just a sociopath.”
“Zing doesn’t lie,” Miracle said.
“How do you know that?” Carol asked.
Miracle put her hand on her heart. “I feel it here.”
Carol sat up straight and looked at Zing. “So tell me, do lesbians have their own separate guardian angels?”
“Yes. We all have our areas of specialty,” Zing said.
“You mean like departments?” Carol asked.
“Yes, I’m a lesbian guardian angel. Straight angels can’t protect a lesbian because it’s bad risk management.”
“Bad risk management?” Carol asked. She guffawed. She looked over at Miracle who was laughing, too.
“Lesbians have unique risks,” Zing said.
“Such as?” Carol sipped the last of her wine.
“I can’t go into that. It’s classified,” Zing said.
“I think you’re making all this up. I don’t know what you’re game is, but there’s no way you’re a real angel,” Carol said.
“I’m not making up anything.” Zing was offended. “Just because you don’t believe in something doesn’t mean it’s not real.” She stood. Color rushed to her cheeks and her eyes flashed brightly. “And just for the record, you make your guardian angel sad because you don’t believe in her. She did save you that time when you almost drowned in the creek the summer you spent out at your grandparents. The summer your parents were getting a divorce and you cried and cried every night. Her name, by the way, is Cathy,” Zing said.
“Cathy?” Carol asked.
“Yes. Cathy. And if you would stop being so cranky all the time, and open your heart to possibilities, something good might happen in your life for once. You always blame bad stuff on the world, but it’s really you who’s causing bad stuff to happen. So, put that in your thinking cap and smoke it,” Zing said. She raised her chin and marched out of the room.
There was a long pause. Finally, Carol said, “How’d she know about my parent’s divorce?”
“I think. . .” Miracle said softly.
Carol looked at her.
“. . . she’s the real deal,” Miracle said.
Carol blinked.
***
Zing went to her room and shut the door forcefully but carefully. She didn’t want to break anything in Miracle’s beautiful home. She was angry at Carol for not believing her. Being angry was an awful feeling. It was like she had swallowed a ball of fire and it made her insides churn and burn.
Zing flopped down belly-first on her bed and burst into hot, angry tears. She buried her head in her pillow and sobbed.
After a moment, Zing felt a hand on her back. She lifted up her head. It was Annabelle. “Carol doesn’t believe me,” Zing blubbered. “She thinks I’m lying.”
“Some people believe, though. People like Miracle and Nell,” Annabelle said, handing her a tissue. “Other people, like Carol, have to see things to believe them. Faith isn’t good enough for them.”
“How can I make her believe me?”
“You can’t. She has to do it herself. Give her time,” Annabelle said. “The truth always wins out.”
“What did people do without tissues?” Zing asked. She blew her nose and wiped her
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