do you have cause to touch this man? Are you a healer?”
“No, nothing of the sort. Ugh… I think my sugar’s dropping.” I dug down in my bag, pulling out a Hershey bar and popping a piece in my mouth. “Every time I pass through there, there’s this sweet little family who lets me stay with them. Most of them can speak a bit of broken English. Well, enough so that we can get by for a few days. Not the old man.”
“Then… why do you touch him?”
“Want a bite?”
I handed him the chocolate bar. He took it and sniffed it.
“I touch him because… well… I have no other way to communicate with him. It’s my way of showing him how much I appreciate him letting me stay in his home. He’s bed-ridden. Go on. Have a bite.”
Azazel shook his head.
“Oh, come on. It’s not like I’m contagious or anything. Here. I’ll break a piece off from the other end.”
“I do not eat.”
“Eat?” I snickered. “Chocolate ain’t got nothing to do with eating. You eat chocolate because it’s chocolate. Not because it’s food.”
Ignoring his protests, I broke off a square and stuck it in his mouth while I continued on with my story.
“Anyway… the old man stays in a back room of the house—all alone, always yelling about something. One day I stayed there while everyone else went to school or out to run errands.” I took another bite of chocolate and gave Azazel another square as well. “He woke up, yelling about something or other. He didn’t want anything I offered him—no water, no food, not even his bedpan. Exhausted, and just about stressed completely out, I plopped down on the side of his bed. He quit hollering then and his eyes went wide.” I chuckled at the memory. “I told him I wasn’t going to hurt him, but I didn’t have a clue what he wanted. That’s when I grabbed the lotion from his nightstand and started rubbing it onto his hands and forearms… talking all the while.”
Azazel smiled. “Yes. I can picture it clearly.”
I stuffed another piece of chocolate into his smirking mouth and went on.
“He couldn’t understand a single word I said, no, but the more I massaged his hands, the fewer wrinkles he had right there .” I gently poked the Angel’s drawn forehead, and then started rubbing lotion into his palm. “See? Doesn’t that feel good?”
“Yes… it does.”
“I know it does. I may not indulge in all of life’s little pleasures, but I always try to find time for a good mani-pedi day. It washes away everything. A good manicurist is worth their weight in gold, far as I’m concerned.”
I glanced at Azazel’s relaxing brow line, and the tiny smile tugging at the corners of his chapped lips.
“Here. Try just a sip of water—help wash the chocolate down.”
He didn’t resist me this time. I filled the plastic cap, then carefully dripped it through his parted lips.
“See how much better things go when you just listen?”
He looked at me sideways, smirking slightly. “It is not one of my finer attributes—listening.”
“Yeah, so I’ve read. Okay, one more awesome chocolate square before I get lotion on my hands again.”
He closed his eyes that time, thoroughly enjoying the melting goodness now coating his mouth.
I giggled. “I knew you’d like it.”
“I never said I did.”
“You didn’t have to.” I winked at him. “I can see it in your eyes. Anyway, now… every time I go to Slovakia, I give that grumpy old man a manicure. Since that day, he hasn’t yelled a single time during one of my visits.”
“I can see why. Yet, tell me. Why are you blessing me thusly? I have not yelled at you. Not once. And I am definitely not a grumpy old man.”
“Whatever, Gramps.” I winked at him again, but he didn’t seem pleased with my teasing. “Remember what I told you before, Azazel? When I don’t have the proper— needed —words… I resort to physical contact to communicate my feelings.” I sort of shrugged my shoulders. “And I’m also
“No, nothing of the sort. Ugh… I think my sugar’s dropping.” I dug down in my bag, pulling out a Hershey bar and popping a piece in my mouth. “Every time I pass through there, there’s this sweet little family who lets me stay with them. Most of them can speak a bit of broken English. Well, enough so that we can get by for a few days. Not the old man.”
“Then… why do you touch him?”
“Want a bite?”
I handed him the chocolate bar. He took it and sniffed it.
“I touch him because… well… I have no other way to communicate with him. It’s my way of showing him how much I appreciate him letting me stay in his home. He’s bed-ridden. Go on. Have a bite.”
Azazel shook his head.
“Oh, come on. It’s not like I’m contagious or anything. Here. I’ll break a piece off from the other end.”
“I do not eat.”
“Eat?” I snickered. “Chocolate ain’t got nothing to do with eating. You eat chocolate because it’s chocolate. Not because it’s food.”
Ignoring his protests, I broke off a square and stuck it in his mouth while I continued on with my story.
“Anyway… the old man stays in a back room of the house—all alone, always yelling about something. One day I stayed there while everyone else went to school or out to run errands.” I took another bite of chocolate and gave Azazel another square as well. “He woke up, yelling about something or other. He didn’t want anything I offered him—no water, no food, not even his bedpan. Exhausted, and just about stressed completely out, I plopped down on the side of his bed. He quit hollering then and his eyes went wide.” I chuckled at the memory. “I told him I wasn’t going to hurt him, but I didn’t have a clue what he wanted. That’s when I grabbed the lotion from his nightstand and started rubbing it onto his hands and forearms… talking all the while.”
Azazel smiled. “Yes. I can picture it clearly.”
I stuffed another piece of chocolate into his smirking mouth and went on.
“He couldn’t understand a single word I said, no, but the more I massaged his hands, the fewer wrinkles he had right there .” I gently poked the Angel’s drawn forehead, and then started rubbing lotion into his palm. “See? Doesn’t that feel good?”
“Yes… it does.”
“I know it does. I may not indulge in all of life’s little pleasures, but I always try to find time for a good mani-pedi day. It washes away everything. A good manicurist is worth their weight in gold, far as I’m concerned.”
I glanced at Azazel’s relaxing brow line, and the tiny smile tugging at the corners of his chapped lips.
“Here. Try just a sip of water—help wash the chocolate down.”
He didn’t resist me this time. I filled the plastic cap, then carefully dripped it through his parted lips.
“See how much better things go when you just listen?”
He looked at me sideways, smirking slightly. “It is not one of my finer attributes—listening.”
“Yeah, so I’ve read. Okay, one more awesome chocolate square before I get lotion on my hands again.”
He closed his eyes that time, thoroughly enjoying the melting goodness now coating his mouth.
I giggled. “I knew you’d like it.”
“I never said I did.”
“You didn’t have to.” I winked at him. “I can see it in your eyes. Anyway, now… every time I go to Slovakia, I give that grumpy old man a manicure. Since that day, he hasn’t yelled a single time during one of my visits.”
“I can see why. Yet, tell me. Why are you blessing me thusly? I have not yelled at you. Not once. And I am definitely not a grumpy old man.”
“Whatever, Gramps.” I winked at him again, but he didn’t seem pleased with my teasing. “Remember what I told you before, Azazel? When I don’t have the proper— needed —words… I resort to physical contact to communicate my feelings.” I sort of shrugged my shoulders. “And I’m also
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