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“Mom, I don’t want to stop at the store,” Peter whined. “I’m so thirsty.” When she didn’t respond to that, he added, “and hungry.”
“Well, if you want to eat anything—ever—we need to stop at the grocery store.”
“We have food at home!”
“No, actually, we don’t, because you consume about six thousand calories per day. Don’t worry, it’ll be a quick stop.”
“You always say that, and it’s never quick.”
She yanked the rearview mirror down toward her face so she could look her eldest in the eye. “Did you just sass me? That sounded a little too close to sass.”
He looked down, ashamed.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
It wasn’t that Peter didn’t have a point. Stopping at the grocery store with three children was a giant pain in the rear, but it was also a necessary evil. Their father had meetings and wouldn’t be home till late, so if they were going to eat, they had to buy food.
She pulled into the parking lot of the mega-grocery, dismayed to see that everyone else in the state of Maine had also decided to shop at this exact moment. It took her ten minutes to get her three children out of the minivan, the shopping cart disinfected, and her youngest strapped into said shopping cart. Then she noticed Peter was still in his cleats. “Peter!” she snapped. “You can’t wear those into the store!” Another five minutes passed as Peter located and changed into his flip-flops. It started to rain. She was grateful it had waited until after the soccer game, but she also wished it could have waited until they got home.
They entered the store, and Sandra shook the rain out of her hair. “Okay, Peter and Joanna, you can each pick out one healthy treat.”
“If it’s healthy, it’s not a treat,” Peter mumbled.
“Fine, then don’t get a treat. You can eat Brussels sprouts.”
“Raspberries?” he said, his voice tinged with hope.
“Sure. That sounds delicious,” Sandra said as she sifted through the avocados.
They filled the cart. It looked like a lot, but Sandra knew it would only last a few days with Peter around.
After twenty minutes in the checkout line, Sandra was able to purchase her wares. Then it was back to the minivan. The groceries and two oldest children were already in the van, and she was just buckling Sammy into his car seat, when a man’s voice behind her said, “Excuse me, ma’am.”
Startled, she slammed the van door shut as she whirled to face him. Her first impression put her at immediate ease. His appearance was the very opposite of threatening. He was just barely taller than she (and she stood only 5’ 3”) and he was a bit on the fluffy side. He looked to be about forty, yet he still had chubby baby cheeks. His short, curly brown hair clung close to his head, and he wore relaxed-fitting jeans and a faded T-shirt. “Can I help you?” she asked.
“Sorry to bother you,” he said with perfect pleasantness. “I just need to ask you a question, and I know it’s going to sound strange, but it’s very important.” He paused.
“Okay?” she prodded.
“I need to know what the referee said to you before he died.”
“He died?” She hadn’t known that. They’d whisked him away into an ambulance so fast, she’d thought he’d had a good chance.
“I’m afraid that he did.”
A thought occurred to her, and she scowled at the pleasant parking lot interloper. “Did the ref send you?”
He scowled back. “The ref has gone to heaven, ma’am.”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed so suddenly that she snorted. What a strange way to remind me that he’d died. “I meant the other ref.”
“Oh!” her new friend said. “No, no, he didn’t send me.”
“Well, the poor old man didn’t say anything to me,” she said, again not knowing why she was lying, and opened her car door.
Her new friend reached over her and shut the door. If anyone else had done this, it might have been scary, but she didn’t think this man could possibly scare her. Still, she found him quite rude. “Excuse me!” she said, but at the same exact time, he said, “You’re lying,” so she said, “Excuse me?!” again to defend herself against such an absolutely accurate accusation.
“You’re lying,” he repeated. “And that’s really okay. I understand why you’re lying”—
You do? Because I don’t.
—“but I really need you to tell me the truth. It’s important. And you can trust me.”
In an instant, an overwhelming, supernatural peace flooded over her. Somehow she knew this was true. She could trust him. But she still didn’t want to tell him her secret. “Who are you?”
“My name is Bob.”
“Well, Bob, I don’t know you. And it is raining. And I am not wearing a raincoat. And I need to get home before my ice cream melts.” She started to open the door again. Again, he put his hand on it and prevented her from doing so. This time, she tried to pull it open anyway, against his resistance, but the door didn’t budge. This small man is stronger than he looks. She looked him in the eye. His eyes were brown, soft, and gentle. “Get your hand off my car or I will tell my son to call the police.”
He didn’t move his hand. He looked in the car and said, “Your ten-year-old has a cell phone?”
“How do you know my son is ten, and no, he is currently playing a game on my cell phone. Last warning. I will tell him to call—” She stopped talking because she saw a police officer crossing the parking lot. She started to call out “Officer!” but Bob clamped a hand over her mouth so all she got out was “Off!” which was also appropriate in this case. She pushed him in the chest. “Do not touch me!” Then she tried to hail the cop again.
Again he placed his hand over her mouth, but this time he held it there and leaned in close to whisper to her. “Don’t do that! You’re just going to make a fool of yourself, and I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”
He sounded sincere enough, but she couldn’t believe he could mean such words while he was actively trying to smother her. She brought her knee up fast, homing in on his groin area, but he seemed to know it was coming and twisted his hips to protect himself. She longingly watched the police officer getting farther and farther away.
She saw a woman approaching a pickup parked nearby. Sandra widened her eyes at the woman as if to plead for help but the woman just looked at her as if she was looking at a crazy person and hurriedly got into her truck.
“I will explain,” Bob said, “but you’ve got to promise not to draw any more attention to us.”
Sandra nodded quickly.
Bob removed his hand.
“They can’t see me,” he said. “Only you can see me.”
For several seconds, Sandra did not respond to this. Then she said, slowly, “I beg your pardon?”
“No one else can see me. Only you. Even your kids can’t see me. Actually, the baby can, but Peter and Joanna can’t. If they weren’t staring at screens right now, they’d wonder why their mother was standing in the parking lot talking to herself while their ice cream melts.”
Sandra looked through the window at Sammy, who was chewing on his fingers and grinning foolishly. Then she looked at Bob. “Why can Sammy see you?”
“All babies can see me.” He took a deep breath. “Sandra, I’m an angel of the Lord, and I really need you to tell me what Frank Fenton said to you before he died.”
Sandra burst into laughter. She tipped her head back and laughed at the sky. Raindrops splatted onto her closed eyelids. She hooted until she had to gasp for air.
“Are you finished?” Bob interrupted.
She looked at him through teary eyes. “An angel?”
He frowned. “Yes. An angel. Watch.” He held out his hand and his palm burst into flames. Then just as quickly, it went out. Bob looked bored.
“Neat trick,” Sandra said dryly.
“Sandra, I know you are a believer. Can we not drag this part out?”
Suddenly, Sandra knew. A weird certainty flowed through her, and she just knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this man before her was a heavenly being. This knowledge brought on another bout of laughter. “I’m sorry,” she managed between cackles, “I believe you, I do, I’m just ... I’m just a little ...” She tried to stop laughing. She had pictured angels before. This wasn’t it.
“It can be overwhelming to meet an angel face to face, I know. Now, please tell me what he said.”
“Why?” Sandra asked, trying to catch her breath.
“Why what?” She hadn’t known angels could look so annoyed.
“Why do you need to know?”
“Because I’m an angel, that’s why.”
“But doesn’t God know? Can’t he just tell you?”
Bob looked embarrassed.
“What?” she prodded.
“I’d like to handle this on my own, if possible.”
“I always get into trouble when I try to handle things on my own, without God. Are you in trouble, Bob?”
He flushed red. “I am not. But I have a job to do, and I would like to do it.”
“What job?”
“Will you puh-lease just tell me what he said?”
“Sure, as soon as you tell me what your job is.” She was rapidly growing more comfortable with this alleged angel.
Bob appeared to be weighing his options. Then he said, “It was my job to protect the souls involved in that soccer game.”
She gasped. “So you are in trouble!”
“I don’t know. That’s why I need to know what he said.”
She decided to stop torturing him. “He said, ‘You’ve got to stop white.’”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
And Bob was gone. There was no bright light, no puff of smoke—he just vanished. He just wasn’t there anymore. Sandra looked around the parking lot, suddenly self-conscious of how she must have appeared to everyone for the past several minutes. But no one seemed to be paying her any mind. She shakily climbed into the van, thinking her kids would chide her for taking so long, but they just continued to stare at their screens. “Peter?”
“Yeah?” He didn’t look up.
“Can you please put the phone away?”
Peter sighed dramatically and turned the screen off.
“Thank you. Now, can you please tell me what has happened in your immediate vicinity since we came out of the store?”
“Uh, we came out of the store, we got in the car, and then you told me to turn the phone off.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“Peter, you are grounded from all electronics.”
“What?” he shrieked. “Why?”
“Because your mother could have been murdered by a random lunatic, and you wouldn’t even have noticed. You would have just sat here until the phone battery died.”
Peter was quiet for a minute. Sandra could feel him fuming behind her. Finally, he said, “How long?”
“How long before the battery would have died? How should I know?”
“No, how long am I grounded?”
“Oh. That. Forever.”