Overworked Guardian Angel

Life can change in a split second.  I know that sounds cliche, but I found it to be true. Simon was standing at the side off a desert road with his thumb out and a seven o’clock shadow.  His shirt was soaked with sweat and his shoulders drooped quite a bit. Feeling sorry for him, I pulled off the side of the road.

“Thank you.” He said as he ran to my open window of my beat up twenty year old Toyota.

“Where are you headed?? I casually asked as he got into the passenger’s side bucket seat. 

“I’m trying to find Orson Newton.” He said reading off of a sticky note.

I sat there stunned after he said the name.

“Is there a problem?” He asked, noticing my shock at the name he said.

“Yeah, I’m Oroson Newton.” I tilted my chin back to get a better look at the stranger who had just entered my car and knew my name. 

“Wonderful.  I am your guardian angel.” He bubbled.

“My what?” I turned my head so just my good eye was staring intently at him.  

“Guardian angel.” He made sure he said it clearly so I would hear him correctly.

“Who the Hell are you?” I was in no mood for some jokester and his pranks.

“Simon.” He nodded.

“Simon who?” I hissed.

“Just Simon will do.” He assured me.

“Not if you’re going to claim you are a guardian angel.  Folks around here are gonna wanna know what you are up to.” I put my hands on the steering wheel.  The unrelenting desert sun heated up my Toyota in a minute.  Sweat was already dripping down the back of my neck. 

“I’m just here for you.  No one else.” He assured me. “In fact, you are the only one who can see me.” 

“Great, just great.” I shook my head, “So I’m gonna go around talking to you who no one else can see?” 

He nodded emphatically.

“I need you to get out of my car.” I pointed at the passenger door his elbow was resting on, “I am in no mood for shenanigans.” 

“I do not plan such activities, Orson.” He looked at me as if I was losing it.

“You know you could have been an average Joe standing on the side of the road thumbing for a ride, but I wind up with you.”  I sighed.

“Lucky you.” He chuckled.

“How do ya figure?” I asked pulling onto the road.

“Most people never get to meet their guardian angels, but you do.” He leaned back as I began to drive toward Palm Springs where I worked as a dealer at a casino. 

“You know, I do not see the luck in that.” I groaned, “Luck is getting dealt an inside straight when the house just has a pair of deuces.” 

“Sorry, I am not familiar with poker.” He shrugged as the dreary landscape went zipping by. 

“You will be if you plan on hanging around me.” I said still not believing what was happening. 

I had been a dealer at the Golden Goose for seven years.  The golden goose you may recall is what Jack grabbed when he was being chased by the giant.  He shimmied down that beanstalk and then hacked it down, killing the giant.  Some of the cops I knew that hung around the Golden Goose would have arrested Jack for B and E and first degree murder, but fairy tales are make believe and teach us lessons about life.  Me, I would never climb a beanstalk unless I knew where it was going to take me.  Even using caution, I wound up picking up this hitchhiker, Simon. 

In my business you can’t ask too many questions or get to know the customers, because there are dangerous people who hang around and if you’re not careful you can wind up in a whole lot of hurt.  This is why I stick to myself and just deal cards.  There are some high level scammers who can take you for a ride.  One of my dealer friends wound up losing everything she had, poor lady, but Palm Springs can be a suckers’ town if you play with the wrong crowd. 

“So are you just gonna follow me around, Simon?” I asked as the radio turned to static.  The empty area between Death Valley and Palm Springs did not have any sort of radio reception.  

“That’s my job.” He nodded.

“How the heck did you get this job?” I asked as I saw the Golden Goose Casino in the distance.  The desert is full of mirages.  While the Golden Goose appeared to be just around the corner, I knew it was about forty miles away on the straight desert road.  

“In Heaven, you have to do some time as a guardian angel in order to get your wings.  Once you have your winds, you can get around a lot easier.” He paused, “But then maybe I’ve said too much.”

“No, no, it’s good to know.” I was still not sold on Simon being what he said he was, a guardian angel.  

“Do you do dangerous things?” He asked.

“I try to keep myself safe and secure.” I jabbed my thumb into my chest for emphasis. 

“Good...wonder why I am here.” He muttered to himself, making me uneasy once again. 

“Why did you say that?” I asked.

“Oh, I shouldn’t be telling you trade secrets, but guardian angels appear when their appointed one is in dire trouble.” He did not look at me as he spoke.  I learned not to trust someone who did not look you in the eye when they were talking to you.  It is an occupational hazard, but one I have found useful in the past.  

“We are here.” I told him as I pulled into the employee parking lot after thirty minutes of absolute silence. “So no one but me can see you, is that correct?” 

He nodded solemnly.  

“Good.  You let me do the talking.” I chucked as I used my key to get in the backdoor.

“Hey Orson.” Candy greeted me as she was putting the last touch ups on her bright red hair.  Dressed in the same uniform as I was dressed in with black pants and shoes, a starched white shirt, a black pinstripe vest and black bow tie, Candy had been coloring her hair for the past ten years.  She wanted to appear younger since the customers liked their dealers to be young and pretty.  She was a real stunner before she had grandkids.  

I must admit, I color my hair and beard jet black as patches of gray have started to appear in certain patches.  Twice a month I go to a hair stylist in order to keep my grooming standards up to standards. 

“Hey.” Candy looked directly at Simon.  My heart nearly froze, “Are you ready for the big blow out we got over the weekend?” 

“I forgot all about it.” I rolled my eyes, thankful that she had not really seen Simon standing next to me. 

“I’ll see you out there on the floor.” She smiled showing her lipstick stained teeth as she walked through the door.

“So what is this blow out?” Simon asked.  We were alone in the backroom.

“It’s a big poker tournament.” I answered, checking myself one last time in the lighted mirror.

“Oh my.” Simon moaned as I walked out the door into the big room filled with all sorts of noise and calamity.  

“Hey Orson!” Sammy called out, he worked at the table next to mine.

“Sammy.” I waved.  Simon was right behind me, but Sammy couldn’t see him just like Simon promised. 

“I want you to keep things copasetic.” Mack the pit boss instructed me, “Try not to have too many big winners.  Sometimes Orson you get too generous with the house money.” 

“Yes sir.” I said as I laid the poker chips out on the table.  I hated Mack.  In our last meeting he brought up the fact that my table had the most winners during the week which was a sore spot for Alex Sparenter who owned the casino.  Mr. Sparenter would sit in the back of the conference room where we held our meeting with a Cuban cigar hanging out of the side of his mouth and wearing his opaque sunglasses.  Usually he was good to his employees, but it was well known that he would send his goons to your house if you took a slice off the top. Franz disappeared after it was discovered he was taking a grand here and there from the house money.  As a result the pit bosses kept a close eye on their dealers to which Mack Rollins made it his personal crusade against his dealers.

“He seems quite mean.” Simon nodded.

“He is…” I kept my voice at a whisper so no one could hear me talking to my guardian angel.  I mean Simon.  “You’ve gotta keep quiet.”

“I will do my best.” 

The customers rushed in once the doors were open.  Loud music played over the speakers consisting of some of the best known crooners like Sinatra and Nat King Cole.  Many of our customers did not like or trust rock ‘n’ roll, so we seldom played it during the evening.  Every once and a while a Neil Diamond song would slip in there, but by then the customers were too engrossed in their winnings to notice.  

“That guy over there took some chips.” Simon pointed. One of the things we were supposed to watch for was when customers took what didn’t belong to them.  

“Sir, you need to put that back.” I said out of the side of my mouth so the other customers didn’t hear.

“Are you accusing me of cheating?” He asked with a semi-smirk on his face.

“Did you take some chips from this pile over here?” I pointed to the red chips next to my left elbow.

“Naw.” He chuckled.

“He did.” Simon pointed.

“Seems like I am missing a few red chips.” I said looking him directly in the eye.

“Do you have any idea who I am?” He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “I’m Victor Ambrelli.  Thee Victor Ambrelli.” 

“I do not know who you are, Mr. Ambrelli, but you can’t take chips you have not paid for.” 

“Are you accusing me of stealing?” He hissed, “I will have my uncle come over here and have a word with yous.” 

“As long as you put the chips back.” 

“Are you going to deal or what?” An elderly lady asked in a hostile tone.

“Yeah, just a minute.” I put my hand up, palm out. 

“I will not stand for this.” She got up and stormed off. 

“I do not like this.” Simon shook his head.

“That’s my Uncle Tony over there talking to Mr. Alex Sparenter.” He pointed.

“That man has a gun.” Simon pointed to the automatic pistol tucked into his cumberbun. “I do not like this.  I do not.” 

“Keep your shirt on.” I whispered.

“Are you telling me to keep my shirt on?”  Victor asked.

“Not you…” 

“Is something going on over here?” Mack appeared from the crowd.

“No, everything is fine.” I assured him.

“It is not fine.” Victor raised his voice, “He accused me of stealing.” 

“Victor, what is going on?” A very large man identified as Uncle Tony asked his nephew.

“He accused me of stealing.” Victor pointed his finger at me like a gun.

“Is this true?” Uncle Tony asked.

“It is. It is.” Simon pointed at Victor.

“He was seen pocketing two red chips.” I affirmed.

“I can make good on anything he has taken.” Uncle Tony turned to Mack, “What is it he owes?” 

“Nothin’ Uncle Tony.” Victor snapped.  

After a back and forth exchange, the guns came out.

“Oh my!” Simon exclaimed.

“I can see it.” I said as Victor pointed his automatic pistol at my forehead.

“What can you see?” Victor said, biting his lip. 

“That I may have been mistaken.” I said afraid at any second he would pull the trigger and I would be no longer.

“Too late you idiot.  I wanna pull this trigger and even things out.” I could see his finger wrap around the trigger.  

“AHHHH!” I heard Simon yell as he disappeared. 

“Victor, this is no way to settle things.” Uncle Tony urged him as security poured into the main room where Victor was getting ready to blow my head off. 

“I don’t care.  I get tired of people accusing me of things I ain’t done.”

Three shots were fired from his automatic.

Death was surely a strange feeling.  I felt nothing.  Victor stood there with his mouth hanging open.  Glancing over at Uncle Tony who was standing next to Mack, he had taken his sunglasses off after doing a double take. 

“Your brains would have been splattered all over the wall in back of you.” He said, shaking his head.

“Drop the gun.” One of the security guards ordered and Victor complied with the order without a single hesitation.  One of the security guards put Victor in handcuffs.

“What the hell happened?” Mack stood there with his arms out.

“I don’t know.” I shook my head, happy that it was still attached to my shoulders. 

“You’ve acting strangely.” Mack shrugged, “Maybe you need some time off.” 

“Are you okay?” Candy rushed over, “Oh Orson, you scared the living…yeah.” 

She hugged me.

“I don’t get it.  I fired three bullets.  You should not be standing.” The handcuffed Victor sneered as the security guards led him out.  

Newspaper reporters flocked into the casino.  One of them stuck a microphone in my face, asking, “So is it true Victor Ambrelli fired three shots point blank and yet you don’t have a mark on you.” 

“Yes.” I looked around for Simon, but he was nowhere to be seen. 

“You do know he has mob connection, right?”  Another reporter asked.

“I do now.” I ran my hand through my hair.  There was a thick layer of sweat covering my forehead still.

“What do you think was the reason you survived?” 

I opened my mouth and then closed it again.

“No more questions, please.  Mr. Newton is pretty shaken up.”  Mack began to herd the reporters into the lobby.  I felt that I was on the verge of collapsing so I went into the backroom to get some water.  When I looked into the mirror, I not only saw my own pale reflection, I saw Simon standing next to me smiling.

“Simon?” 

“Yes, yes, Orson.  I have to go back now.” He said as his reflection faded.

“Where?” I asked.

“According to the heavenly protocol, I should get my wings now.” He closed his eyes. “You see when that brute pulled the trigger, I became your bulletproof vest.  The bullets went into me.”

“Oh my-”

“Don’t worry, it didn’t hurt. You can only die once, you know.” He shrugged, “Just think of me as your overworked guardian angel at your service. I was glad to be there when you needed me, but now it’s time for me to go back. I will be watching.  But , please don’t make me have to come back and save you again.”

“I won’t.” I promised and we both laughed at that as I watched his reflection completely fade away. 

“Thank you for saving my life.” I called out, but Simon was no longer there. I flopped down in the chair and picked up a picture of water and drank half of it, letting some of it run down my chin.  

“What the heck happened out there?”  Sammy asked, grabbing my arm. “You should’ve been dead.”  

“But I’m not.” I shook my head.

“It’s a miracle, ain’t it?” He asked..

“Let’s just say my guardian angel was hovering around, shall we. He was there when I really needed him, huh?” I nodded. I was somewhat relieved when I glanced at the mirror and only saw Sammy’s and my reflection.