Copyright 2016 Mario V. Farina
Shakespir Edition, License Notes
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
Electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information
Storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author.
Correspondence may be directed to:
Mario V. Farina
Email: [email protected]
Unexpectedly Angie got a T-Mail (Thought Mail) from God. It read, “No Class today, Angie. You’re needed in the field. Punch 6742 in the transporter. Thanks. G.”
Angie did this and immediately found herself in a luxurious living room. There was a young girl, teenager, sitting on a couch and a rough looking man in an armchair facing her not far away. He was speaking gruffly to the girl. Spotting Angie, he stopped in mid-syllable and exclaimed, “Oh ho, what have we got here? Where did you come from, kid? I didn’t see you coming in.” He turned to the girl on the couch. “Your sister?”
The girl on the couch, Cindy Ross, blond hair, in jeans, and red blouse, looked confused. “I don’t see nobody,” she said.
“Welcome, Sis,” the man said to Angie. “I didn’t know about you. That’s OK. There’s room for one more, honey.”
Anyone seeing Angie for the first time would think she was a child of about ten. She couldn’t have been more than four feet tall. She had auburn hair and brown eyes.
Angie ignored the remark. “What evil prompted you to wrap tapes on Cindy’s wrists?” she demanded in a tiny, but mature voice. “Take them off!” she demanded.
The man laughed. “Commandments out of the mouth of babes? How old are you, kid? Sit there with your sister!” He pointed to the couch.
“I’m a guardian angel, Mr. Gordon,” Angie said. Don’t let my appearance mislead you. I’ve come to prevent the evil you have in that satchel and in your mind.” She pointed to the backpack at the feet of the man.
Angie had not been a guardian angel long. She had come to Heaven when she was eight.
The man stiffened., “What do you know about that bag?”
He glared at Angie. The two made a striking contrast, he, bald, stocky, unkempt, dirty dark clothing; she, small wearing a white glistening dress. The man’s lips formed to utter an obscenity but his throat tightened and he was unable to utter a sound.
“Mr. Gordon, you were sentenced to prison by Judge Roberts for bank robbery some years ago,” said Angie. You escaped and put together that devilish thing in the bag intending to set it off tonight when the judge and his wife came home. You didn’t know that Cindy, their daughter, would be here. That complicated things but didn’t change your plans. You couldn’t know that the contraption in the bag would misfire and envelop you in flames when it went off. Not only would the family be its victims, but also you!”
Befuddled, the man froze, statue-like, scowling at the tiny figure.
“You can’t know all that,” growled the man.
Angie fixed he eyes on his. Though he tried to avert his eyes, he found it was impossible to do so. “I have the ability to see possible future events,” she said softly.
A sullen silence ensued that stopped accounting for the passage of time. The mantel clock chimed the nine o’clock hour, then the quarter hour. Gradually, the man’s face softened, his eyes glazed, then began welling with tears. He rose from his seat, walked to where Cindy was sitting and unwound the tape from her wrists. He sank to the floor, facing Angie, and began crying. “What a fool I’ve been,” he sobbed. “What a mess I have made of my life! What can I do to make amends?”
“I can help you,” said Cindy quietly. She went to him and put her hand on his shoulder. You need to go back to finish your sentence. You’ll change and seek a new path through life, one that will give you satisfaction. Your road will be long and hard. You will have to endure many hardships, but I will be with you, watching, and helping.”
“Thank you,” he said. “Cindy is fortunate to have you as her guardian angel.”
“No,” responded Angie. “Cindy already has an angel. You’ve never had one because you repeatedly rejected them. From this moment, I will be your guardian angel!”
From a great distance came a commendation that only one person heard.. “Well done, Angie!”
Though only ten years old, Angie was a guardian angel. She had suddenly been assigned to attend to an emergency. A picture of Angie is on the front cover of this book. You'll love reading about Angie and how she handled the assignment.