Six Months to Live: Your Sunday School Lesson - Kickin' The Devil's Ass

By Jay C. Polmar

Get ready to cry, and discover a whole new meaning to life, and laugh until your sides hurt.

Here, John, a young US Navy seaman, only 22 years old, discovers (during a routine physical examination), that he has terminal lung cancer with only six months to live. The Navy discharges him, and we find him in a sleazy motel with a loaded gun and 2 bottles of Jim Beam ready to pull the trigger. But first, he goes across the street to a seedy bar to get a few drinks and fortify his difficult intent. Follow him on his journey as he finds much more than he expected in the bar....

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: May 24, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483529868

Book preview

52

CHAPTER 1

It was late when I checked into the hotel. This five-star establishment was more of a zero-star dump, but at least it wasn’t one of those pay-by-the-hour places. Not that I needed more than an hour of thinking ‘bout IT.

I almost wanted to go home to Mama and Daddy. Bubba and Sissy is what everyone else called them, though Billy Bob and Kudzu was more apt. ‘Specially my Mama. All my life, everything was all for Mama, but I never realized that. Not until now, when I began thinking about her. Kudzu, yeah, that was her. The kind of soft, over-flowing woman who’s neediness for approval was almost strangling. Then she’d hug you and the suffocation was real and it would drag you down and you think I’m going to be stuck here forever even though you’re a big boy and much too old for hugs.

I was too old for hugs when she dropped me off for Karate lessons, when I was 7. How we could afford karate lessons for me as a kid instead of sending me to a good college later in life to be a success I’ll never get. Maybe I needed to learn to kick ass more than I needed to be a doctor or a lawyer or whatever. Heck, I didn’t even want to be a doctor. I’d have been happy just to farm the tobacco fields, like daddy and paw-paw and his paw-paw before him. That’s what I thought anyway.

I sorta lost it after that health and sciences class, when they showed us that video of what smoking cigarettes does to the body: what it does to you when you breathe it in, and what it does when you don’t breathe no more. Yeah, that was one of those things I still think I could have gone through life without knowing.

When you’re raised to see things a certain way, and you see them that way for so long, then you think it’s all right. But when someone comes in and tells you why all the people around you are sick and dying, why they are looking older than they should be, or dying so young, and that it could even happen to you…well, that sorta puts the fear of God into you. Not that I didn’t have it already.

When you have Hell Fire and Brimstone shoved down your throat every Sunday for almost two decades, it’s kinda hard not to be scared of The Man upstairs. And if what was upstairs didn’t scare you, what was on this level sure would scare the be-jeebers out of people…

After that health class, my life became pure nightmares. Smoke, smoke everywhere and everyone old, gray and dying, just dying all the time. I remember one time, I dreamed about old Aunt Ethel dying too. I loved old auntie E. She was a heck of a smoker. Four packs a day and a liter of orange crush - that was Aunt Ethel - in her big red pickup truck with those loud, barkin’ dogs she had always hangin’ out the back and her always smelling kind of like old cabbage and stale smoke. But she was always able to give her nephew a dollar for some candy.

Yeah. That was the way it was and the way I thought she’d stay, until daddy got the call. Just like in my dream, we were sitting down to dinner when the phone rang. I think I knew who it was too, or at least what, because I remember hoping mama would let it ring. She might have, if it had only been once. But then, just like I knew it would, it rang and rang and rang until daddy got up and answered. No one said anything, just waited. He and whoever was on the other line talked quiet for a bit, then hung up. Daddy sat back down. When mama asked what, he just shook his head and said we have to wait until after dinner. Didn’t want to ruin the meal, he said.

As far as I knew, they could have put woodchips on my plate that night for all I tasted it. I knew. I knew before we stood up and walked over to the big couch and Daddy sat both me and mama down to explain that cousin Jimmy had found her. Slumped over the dinner table she was, face in the mashed potatoes and gravy. Heart attack, he was gonna say. Yeah, I knew it.

Two days after that, we were all marching out in our best outfits, all in black. My shoes were too small, just like they had been when we bought them. I squeaked my way down the aisle to go viewing then back up to my seat. It seems at the time, my eyes went back and forth between Auntie E and the big picture of Jesus which was hanging somewhere nearby the piano. He had blond hair and blue eyes, just like an angel, my mama used to say, when I looked at him. All nailed up and bloody, but not crying. I think he was even happy about it, it seems. Not like those walking around under him, no.

Everyone walking around was crying and hugging and holding hands. God bless her, poor little heart someone sniveled in a corner somewhere. God. Yeah, God bless her alright. Even then it seemed they didn’t really care much about God unless someone was dying, someone was sick, someone was born, or someone wanted something. Especially the last thing. It didn’t seem right. None of it seemed right.

Not Aunt Ethel with her gray face stiff and still in her box or all the crying people who never seemed to care much about her before she died.

And not me, every time I saw her face in the middle of the night after that. The nightmares were so vivid and constant back then. That’s why when I was awake I threw myself into books and fighting when I was awake. Karate.

Why we even have something like karate in that one drag, tiny off-shoot of Winston Salem, North Carolina is way beyond me. Boy, looking at it now, what I would have given to be there just then. Seems though, that when I was caught up in Karate and vampires and werewolves and all that other stuff I thought made me cool and different, I wanted to be anywhere else. I guess that changes when you realize you can’t Bruce-Lee yourself out of this sorta thing. No. There wasn’t any magic cure or mysterious destiny waiting for me.

Instead, here I was sitting in the Cockroach-King Motel, gun in hand and a lousy Kung-Fu movie playing in the background. It didn’t have any subtitles, but that was okay. I wasn’t listening anyway. But then, I don’t think I was listening to much of anything. I hadn’t been for a while. Not since they gave me the news.

Six months to live, the doctor said. Then they showed me the x-rays of my lungs on the big illuminated white screen. I remember it sorta buzzed for a second when he flipped the switch. I thought it sounded like a bug caught on fly paper, you know, when they’re stuck and can’t fly away? I think that’s how I felt then, too. Trapped on the sticky yellow paper while the old doctor explained how it was they couldn’t do much to save me, couldn’t do much of anything. Yeah, guess that’s just the way it is.

Twenty-two years to grow and start to shape myself into something had been reduced to a measly six months, now that my lungs were eaten up with cancer. I imagined tumors the size of golf balls or something, as he explained, with his sad, sour expression. This was basically what my whole life amounted to.

Not even at the age of fifty-five, like Auntie E. Heck, I figured fifty at least, like most of my family. Man. I thought of my family. Our house, behind the tobacco fields where I played with Julie Carry and where daddy rode the big tractors. I could even see the rusted red wagon that sat on the edge of the drive, just as you were comin’ up to the porch. If it was raining, you got your boots stuck in the red mud and you had to try to scrape it off on the mat before going in. And, in the summer, mama would call all the kids in for lemonade. Most of the time, it seems it was lukewarm and tasted a little like smoke because she was always huffin’ and puffin’ around the dishes and the stove, but we liked it. She swore she made it from scratch to the church ladies and our neighbors, but I remember seeing the Country-Time® canister in the top cabinet above the fridge, where daddy kept the light bulbs.

What I’d give for some of that lemonade now. I hadn’t had any of that since Boot. Hell, I hadn’t had much of anything since Boot camp. Didn’t miss it much either, least not until now.

Got out of Winston-Salem a little less than three years ago, just after my nineteenth. Seemed to me that if I couldn’t go to community college, enlisting was the only way to get outa there. So I did. The Navy. Took me a little bit to get my shit together enough to go, but once I did I was gone. And happy to do so. Boot was the best thing that ever happened to me though thinking about it, probably the worst. If it weren’t for those routine checkups, I’d have still been ignorant to the fact I played host to inoperable lung cancer. I wouldn’t have to know anything and that would be good, right?

Wrong. Strangely, I doubted ignorance was bliss. Not in my case. No, better to know and do something about it, so it seemed. Or so I thought, but when I looked down at the gun in my hand and thought about putting it to my head, I wasn’t too certain. Oh God, I said to no one in particular, or maybe, to everyone or to anyone that was listening at least.

Then I began to cry. Not the kinda cry that kids do, but the kind that only happens once or twice in your life, if you’re lucky. The kinda cry that shakes you all over until your eyes swell shut and your nose runs and you feel like maybe if you could throw up, you’d feel better, but you are stuck with the feeling. I couldn’t throw up and I couldn’t stop crying.

I thought about the two bottles of off-brand whiskey in my dresser drawer. That, a smart phone and a gun from the wonderful world of Walmart were pretty much all I had left as my possessions. All I need, I said to myself with a deep breath. And another. And another and another, until I realize I smelled something. Something I hadn’t smelled since I left home. Hell, I didn’t even notice the smell back then, but boy did I now! Dirty, dry and making my throat itch a little, I knew exactly what it was. Smoke. Not just any smoke, but cigarette smoke.

As my eyes cleared and I looked around the room, I began to see why. The walls were yellow with it. So were the blankets and pillows and everything else. The only thing in the room not covered in it was me. Oh, the irony.

I noticed the television now showing a local politician’s campaign ad, yet another voice meant to be that of the people. How many lies would this one tell? How many promises made would be broken if elected? Then it hit me, how long had the government known what tobacco was doing to us? To the very people they were supposed to be watching out for, working in the best interest of?

I did a quick internet search on my iphone of tobacco industry conspiracies, just as I had suspected. Multiple first results pointing to the fact that it went all the way to Washington. How there was so much money to be made from selling cancer in a pouch or a stick. God knows if they could put it into an addictive liquid form that tasted good, they probably would.

The way money now mattered more to these government-approved corporate criminals, than public safety was sickening. And to think my family had made a living supporting this nasty habit, this despicable industry.

I was now even more ashamed of myself and what I had come from. I laid my gun down on the nightstand; back to the bottle was all I could think about.

Figures... I shook the bottle upside down, not a drop left. I caught a glimpse of a glowing neon sign outside my window. Night already?

One thing was for sure, I wanted to drink my shame into a stupor and that little bar with the neon sign would do just that. I slipped on my boots and took the short trip over, noticing a sign declaring the presence of topless dancers.

I was going to die anyway, may as well live it up. One good joy ride, even if it was used goods. It’s not like anything I could possibly catch was going to end my life sooner than 6 months.

I saw the typical dark light setting. How cliché; it was everything from a Hollywood movie. I spotted a seat in the far left corner, not too far from the stage. I slipped in unnoticed, or so I thought. A barmaid, chestnut brown hair held in a high ponytail, greeted me.

What’ll it be gorgeous? She said.

I smiled with all the gratitude I could manage. I was part of a family of murderers, the family business poisoning the very air of the place. I’ll have a straight up bourbon.

Sure thing. She smiled and made her way back to the bar.

I noticed the bartender, an older man; looked to be in his 50’s. Handlebar mustache of course, he was still looking good for his age. I watched as he filled order after order, passing them out like card dealer at a Vegas poker table.

A rainbow of bottles stood behind him, each holding the cure for life’s troubles. One for Jack, one for Jill, and several for the butcher, the baker, and the candle stick maker. And way on the top shelf a row of dusty relics, no doubt no longer made, watched over the whole sordid scene.

Up on the stage, a sapphire eyed girl, raven black hair, gyrated to the music. No doubt she was just as much trouble as she looked. She smiled, enjoying herself on stage as patrons tossed up money or stuffed it in places only lovers should touch.

Then I saw her. She looked to be around my age, with golden blonde hair that practically shimmered when the light caught it just right, bright blue eyes and her smile. Why was she coming my way? Why did I even care?

Here you are. She smiled, as some random vital organ fell into the pit of my stomach.

I stared then, and noticed she had placed my bourbon on the table, it appeared to be glowing from inside the glass. Then again, everything suddenly seemed brighter. She spoke, pulling me back into the here and now.

First time here huh? That’ll be $4.50, the next one is on me. She winked at me.

I smiled for real this time. There just may be some hope for me after all. I reached in my pocket for my wallet, still staring at her. Her curves stolen from classic pin-ups, the jeans she wore held on for dear life. As I was about to hand her a 5, I noticed the cross around her neck. She smiled, thanked me, and went back to the bar.

What’s a girl like that doing here? She seemed so different.

I nursed my drink, thinking. It had to be the sweetest bourbon known to man. My head began to throb from it and I put the glass down.

Wait, what?

There was a sudden red hue to the lights of the stage. I turned to the bar. The lights there were also red and the bartender suddenly had deeper, more engraved looking features and his eyes were different. I looked around at my fellow patrons, their glasses filled with what appeared to be blood. One couple turned my way and smiled; I saw fangs gleaming in the strange light. What was going on? My heart raced, my head spun, I felt as if I’d go into a complete panic attack and collapse into the floor. I turned back toward the bar, looking up where the once dusty bottles had sat. Now there were blood bags.

Control, I had to keep control of myself. I tried regulating my breathing, there had to be an explanation. I was drugged, had to be. Ecstasy, LSD, and tons of other hallucinogens could be responsible. My beautiful barmaid had come back; she sat down my free drink.

Bloody Mary. She said this with a smile like before but this time it was fanged. She leaned over, her once buttoned white shirt now slightly open. And my God they were real.

Is there something wrong?

You could say that. I was gone. What do I mean by gone? The type of gone where your head swims, you’re half a mile away. The smart part of you is waving in the distance; Hello? Hello!

When I made it back, she was all over me, kissing along my neck. Not my blood, not today. I jerked away taking her by the shirt and pulling her in for a deep, long kiss.

She moaned. I’d hit deeper than I thought. The others were now very aware of us over everything else. The terrible noise that filled the air, almost like the shriek of a falcon slammed into a loud cat hiss. The next thing I knew she had pulled away and grabbed me by the arm as if our lives depended on it.

We should go. Like now. She tugged and I followed. I could handle her.

She led me into the very heart of the bar, past the bar itself, into a back hall. There were private rooms on either side. Red light poured from under each door. I heard strange noises of pleasure and pain. What did they say? Stake through the heart? Wasn’t that the way you kill them? If things got out of control she had half of what I was hearing in store for me. She brushed past everyone as they gave her disgusted looks, but never offered a word.

The farther we went into the depths of hell, the more I found myself watching the way she walked. The sway of her hips, how each foot met the floor with purpose, though her steps were dainty. This perked my interest and I found myself aroused.

The closer we got to our destination the worse it got and I couldn’t shake this...looming... feeling of something bad. Bad, as in evil. Like when you’re a young boy, going into an abandoned house with your heart racing. You have this heavy weight on your entire body, becoming aware of the hairs on the back of your neck springing to attention. That was the sort of evil I felt and it felt just as real now. I didn’t dare look behind us.

What was in that first drink? Anything? This all felt too real now. I hadn’t even touched the second drink.

I took a deep breath, the smell of all stages of cigarette smoke filled my lungs. I felt I’d turn green like in the cartoons I’d watched as a kid, any minute now. There was also the smell of alcohol blending together to create a new smell. A rotten egg smell, like sulfur.

We finally reached the room and to my surprise the room was more Hotel California than trashy sex den, mirrors on the ceiling and all.

She smiled, ushering me to come in and I thought this might not be so bad. Pink champagne on ice, roses of every color and petals tossed everywhere. God, the room smelt of them, not the sickening smell from the hall. For that at least, I was glad.

You like it, I take? She had the same look in her eye I had while coming here.

Yeah, it’s nice. Better than out there. So... I made my way toward her.

Yes, so. She stared into my eyes and for a moment I got just as lost.

The next thing I knew, her clothes were gone. Wait, how did you...? Where did they go?

She shushed me, Does that really matter?

No, she had a point. It didn’t really matter. We no doubt had the same thing in mind. She was perfect and I took in every inch of her. She clicked her fingers and I turned toward the sound. The tiles in the corner of the room shifted as a hot tub rose up. It bubbled with water jets as rose petals danced on the surface. She stepped in, reaching up to her mouth and removing what appeared to be a plate of some kind.

She grinned, See? Well, come in.

You didn’t have to tell me twice. I kicked off my boots, took off my clothes and slipped on in.

My...my my. Her lips gleamed from the water. Or, my ego wanted to bet, maybe a little drool. But she wasn’t the only one drooling.

Isn’t it amazing what the Navy can do for ya? I slid on over to her side. By the way, I paused, looking at her. She looked back at me, and for maybe a moment, I really felt all of the 22 year old kid I was. What’s your name?

She smiled. My name is Angela, some call me Angel.

Angel. How fitting. As I looked her over, and looked at just how beautiful she was, I couldn’t help but sigh. Somehow, the name Angel almost seemed too fitting. In fact, if I squinted just right I could swear...no...Was she...glowing? I tried to keep my eyes from bugging out.

Well, I can see why. You’re perfect.

As I said this, the urge to be closer to her was all I could think about; as close as I could possibly get. I wanted to be part of her in the most intimate way, but she kept bursting my bubble by talking or sliding away. Don’t tease, I said.

She laughed. It’s all in fun, love. There is really no need to rush. You got a little something extra in your drink. It makes all your hidden fantasies come true. You are on a wonderful trip. The only things that are real are this room, you, me, nude, in this hot tub. Also the feeling you have, the feelings I have and the knowledge that you need, my love. Yes, you.

She leaned in, her serious tone and expression never fading. The more she spoke, the more I wondered if someone had slipped her a little something as well. I sat speechless. Here I was ready to slip into a complete porno scene and she brought love into it.

John, you need my love.

What do you mean I need your love? What I need is to know what’s going on. Nothing you’re saying makes sense. How do you even know my name?

I knew when I saw you. I knew who you were. I knew of the living death in your chest, the one that’s eating you alive. I knew your life, how you grew up. No better than that bar with smoke and booze everywhere. And....

And? And what?

And no real love. No girl ever truly loved you. They all wanted you but for their own cruel reasons. If you’d made them pregnant with child, their lives would have been so simple. Welfare, child support, and you never mattering except for what you could do for them. Selfishness, people are so selfish now.

Here I was, speechless again.

And you, John. You never felt anything for them. Did you? Your silence speaks volumes, even if I didn’t know. It was mechanical and cold. Get in, get off, get out and get gone. Even if one of those girls had loved you? They would have never had a chance. You wouldn’t even give them one chance, nor yourself.

Are you finished? I said.

No, I’ve not even begun. You will not get a finger in or on me until you can open yourself up to love eternally. You are bursting with temptation, you have never seen a body like mine. And you will never have me until you change.

I’m glad you’re so sure of yourself. What stops me from walking right back out the door I came in? And who exactly do you think you are? God’s gift to mankind?

No, I’m God’s gift to you. When you learn to love eternally you not only get me, you will be healed. You will no longer be dying. It will be as if your cancer had never happened. But that comes with another price.

Great, God’s a business man and sent me a naked negotiator. I knew it. Nothing’s free, it’s What can you do for me before I do for you?"

She laughed, He’s nothing of the sort! And considering what He is asking? I thought you’d jump at the chance.

I wondered what she meant, what kind of proposal would I jump at? She’d already put the offer to live on the table. What more could I want? It had been the thing that put me in that hotel room, brought me to that cesspool bar and eventually here with her.

And what is it that you and God have in mind?

You will become one of God’s warriors. She was excited by this and was beaming. To her, this had to be the most prized offer God could give someone. The only ‘warriors’ I’d ever known about growing up were what we called Prayer Warriors; a group of God-fearing Christians who prayed for whomever asked or needed it. People sick, dying, going through hard financial times, and just the usual load of crap life throws at you for no good reason. Praying, faith, and belief were all supposed to make it go away.

John?

What good is a warrior for God? We have those back home, they stand around and pray for each other. There are tons of them, what’s one more?

She broke into a fit of laughter but I couldn’t imagine what was so funny. I was dead serious.

Oh John. That is not what a warrior for God is. Those people are doing great things and prayer is powerful. But what God is asking of you is bigger than that. It’s more than most of them could ever dream. God wants you to fight for good. He wants you to stand up to men in power, your politicians, and stop them from allowing industries to murder and poison the world.

That’s a tall order for one guy.

But she was right. I’d been bothered by what turned up in the search I’d done. This was just the kind of thing that could fix my family’s part in it all. It would ease my mind and get me healed. What idiot would turn down an offer like that?

What says that those politicians would listen to some boy from the south? In case you didn’t do all your homework, the south ain’t respected. Especially not for having anything that looks like brains. Not to mention we’ve done a lot of bad things in the past. And we’re usually the butt of jokes.

You keep giving me excuses, John. This is a mission from God and all things are possible through Him! This is for Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed, and the greater good. Mother Earth, peace, harmony and love for the world.

I thought she couldn’t be serious but her face told me she was. My face twisted at the thought of Jesus, Buddha and Mohammed sitting around a table playing Go Fish with Jesus asking if Mohammed had any 6’s and both bursting into laughter. I was past reasoning. I stood up, furious.

You’re telling me that for me to be cured, I said, I have to love you eternally and play Angel of Death to every CEO, congressman, or other person in power? Who isn’t following God’s way? His rules? Are you out of your mind?! I got out of the hot tub quickly, but keep staring at her perfect form.

Pacing the floor back and forth, I wondered why I didn’t just walk out. I don’t even know you! I screamed.

I don’t even believe in God! If there were a God, the righteous one I grew up learning about, why would He have given me this cancer in the first place?!

No John! I am not out of my mind. Will you just listen to yourself? You’ve been given a chance that many would, forgive me, die for. It’s true that God will heal you, if you love Him and me; if you will take on the duty of being Angel of Vengeance on His behalf. You must be willing to see cleansing the world of human greed as being more important than life. Will you or will you not?

Not unless you can prove to me without a doubt you’re telling the truth. Give me something I can see or touch. Anything so I don’t feel like I’m really in the padded room of an insane asylum and this is all me. Me, having finally lost my mind from all the pressure of a 6 month timer about to say Game Over.

Alright, if it’s proof you need then you shall have it. It’s really no wonder the world is the way it is. So few believers in things that can only be felt.

She left the hot tub which then sank back into the floor. She stood in the center of the room, her hands together as if in prayer.

Father, I am here to serve you. Open John’s heart so that he may do Your work.

Prayer I’ve seen. This changes nothing.

Then I saw it, a golden white light piercing through the ceiling and illuminating Angel. I stood in awe as a voice like thunder spoke.

Daughter, it is my command that John cleanse this world. Bring him back into the light and away from further damnation.

What happened next, I can only describe as something from a sci-fi show. The light entered into Angel, her eyes glowing with it. From her it came into me and I felt my body rise from the floor. It entered at my heart and I felt completely weightless. The next thing I knew our lips had met and I felt something I never had before. Love? Hope? Joy? Maybe a little of each but it was something else.

The world seemed to go dark around me as I was lifted up and away from that rotten place and into somewhere new and whole. Without knowing why, or how, I knew that with Angel’s love, I’d never be the same again.

Somehow I knew that I need never know fear, loneliness or pain and somehow…somehow…I felt like I might just do anything to have that.

These were my last thoughts as I drifted out of consciousness and into nothing.

CHAPTER 2

The next morning, I woke in my hotel room without a hangover, or any real memory of the night before. On the bedside table sat my smart phone, unfinished suicide note to my friends saved in my drafts folder and an empty bottle of booze on the bedside table. No wonder I didn’t remember anything.

I rolled over, tired but not really wanting to go back to sleep. What to do? I could always mope about the room, true enough, but it was only 6:30 in the morning and I didn’t much want to spend the day in the yellowed smoke pit. So, I got up, got dressed and got out. To my joy, it didn’t take me long looking through the little town that was much like my own, to find a 24-hour diner. This meant I could get breakfast no matter how early it was.

Walking in, I saw I was one of only a few customers and went up to the counter. Whaddle it be, honey? the woman asked as I sat down. Knowing how it usually was in a place like this, I ordered without looking at the menu and read the back of the off-brand catsup bottle while I waited.

The hash-browns were cold, the eggs half cooked and the steak, if you could call it that, well, was less than top notch. I ate it all with a smile, only half tasting it anyway. My mind was more on my own problems and how to deal with them. If I hadn’t had the balls to do myself in last night, obviously somewhere, someone was trying to tell me that wasn’t the answer.

Unfortunately, that left me without any idea what to do with my sorry self. I could always go home to my folks …Eh. Maybe not. After all, I couldn’t even finish the suicide note to send to my family and friends via anonymous mass media on my smartphone, much less break the news to my parents face to face.

I mean, really, how do you begin that conversation? I thought it over while I munched on a soggy slice of recently thawed Boston cream pie.

And then she appeared. Automatically, as if an invisible hand turned it, my head snapped around to the sound of someone coming in behind me, following as she made her way up to the counter. At first I recalled feeling surprised at just how pretty she was, even from afar. When she sat down on the bar stool beside me, I saw it just got better close up and I couldn’t help but wonder what a gorgeous girl like this was doing in this hick town.

Surely she wasn’t from around here, I thought, but didn’t have time to consider it more. I was too busy trying to figure out why she looked so familiar. I couldn’t have seen here before, I mean, you don’t see a face like that and forget it, yet, as she smiled at me from her seat, I had this nagging sensation I knew her.

Uh, I’m sorry miss, I said, hoping I didn’t sound as dumb as I felt. But you look really familiar to me. Have we met before? Did I sound like I was trying to pick her up? God, I hoped not. Not that I would have minded, really, but at that moment, I was genuinely asking. Besides, somehow I got the feeling that this wasn’t the type of girl to go for a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am type of thing. No, if she didn’t have a boyfriend (which honestly, I’d be surprised) she was at least a good girl. The kind of girl you took time with, and tried to keep around. Not that I’d personally ever had one of those, but I thought maybe they existed somewhere and I was betting this little angel was one of them.

The cross around her neck only solidified this impression as she grinned at me and said, I guess you don’t remember, huh?

Remember? Oh boy. I shook my head, wide-eyed. She laughed and sipped her drink. My name’s Angel, she said, much to my surprise. We met last night at the Last Resort Bar. And as she said this, I had a flash of colors, sights and sounds that were both familiar and totally foreign. Jeez. I must have gotten pretty plastered to not have remembered her. Hell, I didn’t even remember going to a bar last night, much less meeting this girl. Somehow, thinking about it and trying to sort through the vague and spotty scenes that danced across my brain, I wondered if I even wanted to remember.

With that in mind, I finished my soggy piece of pie in silence, trying both to cope with the embarrassment of having gotten that drunk and trying to think of some way to keep talking to her. For some reason, I felt like that was really important. The fact that she was beautiful didn’t hurt either, and maybe it would get my mind off everything else. Maybe.

We both paid for our meals around the same time and I walked out behind her, noticing she didn’t seem to have a car. Can I walk you to wherever you’re goin’, Miss Angel? I asked, hoping for just a little more time. Maybe I could get her number or something.

Sure, she said, flashing that beautiful smile. I think my heart melted on the spot, but I ignored the feeling and smiled back at her.

So where to? I asked as I fell into step beside her, keeping myself between her and the oncoming traffic as we both took to the sidewalk. Granted, there wasn’t much more than a car or two, here and there but still. Southern manners and all. She shrugged at me, in a sweet sorta way. Just wherever is fine.

I shrugged too and followed, ready to go just about anywhere with her right now. Why not? At the moment, I had nothing better to do, except finish up that suicide note. So, we walked on. Miles seemed to pass by, melting in my peripheral vision mindlessly, in the way walking does, busying the feet and freeing the mind until suddenly, I realized I had no idea where we were. How long had we been walking? Not long, I figured, noticing where the sun sat in the sky. If that was all I had to go on, I’d say we’d only been walking 15 minutes at the most and yet nothing looked familiar as far as I could see. Everything was fields and trees and softness, for miles around.

Where are we? I said, my voice quiet as I looked out at the simple beauty of it all. Beside me, I felt her move a little closer and put her hand in mine. I don’t know why, and couldn’t say if I’d been asked, but somehow, even though we were basically total strangers to each other, that simple gesture right there made everything feel so right.

Somewhere we could talk, she said and I turned to see her smiling, as always. Did she ever stop? I hoped not.

About what? I asked. Without preamble or pussy-footing around, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed me. Shocked, but not at all displeased, I sighed and pulled her close. It was too good to last.

Before I could even get over the fact I had an arm full of the world’s most beautiful girl, it all started coming back to me. I reeled on the spot, feeling sort of like