Date: Wed, 09 Aug 2006 20:51:25 -0700
From: Gabriel Duncan <lonelyocean@alamedanet.net>
Subject: Angel 19

Untitled: Part Nineteen of Angel
Gabriel Duncan

". . . A reminder hangs on the door
You pick it up
Blinded momentarily
Not by the words
But the sun
It sees you
Through the eyehole
And you look away
To the reminder . . ."

One day, in the week following the incident with Jack, Sam, Macy and Helen
arrived to find Adam hysterical. He didn't make sense at first. But no one
does in that state. Helen sat Adam down at the couch and stroked his hair
gently, calming him like one would a wild horse. She calmed him until Adam
could make words. But they were choked and hoarse. Sam brought him water,
and Macy sat on the floor in front of him, staring wide-eyed and concerned.

"Don't leave me alone again, please." Adam told them.

Immediately, they all agreed not to, with eye contact, rather than verbal
validation.

"I don't think I could handle it any more." Adam continued, "I hate to be
so dramatic--"

"Shush," Helen cooed at him, "We're here for you, Adam."

After he calmed down more, Sam stood. "Let's take a walk."

When Adam stepped out of the house, his eyes squinted and he looked around
like he hadn't been out of the house in years.

They found themselves drawn towards the yard full of trees and flowers that
Adam had found the night he took Poochie for a short walk. A white, beat-up
pickup was parked in the driveway. The sounds of wind chimes permeated the
yard. Somewhere underneath those sounds were the sounds of drums, and a
soft humming. It was early May and all of the flowers had begun to
bloom. The trees had exploded out into new growth, leaves onto extending
limbs.

Macy had spoken few words about the neighbors, only saying they were nice
people, especially Victor. Or was it Hector? Adam couldn't recall exactly
what she said the person's name was. They had ended the conversation
quickly, as the sauce was about to burn.

As Adam and Sam peeked into the front gate, they could see the back of a
man who was humming something completely independent of the songs and drums
streaming from a boom box only feet away. The man was kneeling, in front of
a lavender bush, clipping stems of lavender and throwing them into a bin.

The wind from the night before had forced the trees to joust. The man stood
and turned quickly when he heard a branch snap.

"Hello." He said simply.

Adam and Sam stood awkwardly.

"What are you going to do with that lavender?" Sam asked.

The man brushed his hands clean upon his pants. Victor, he said his name
was. They all introduced themselves and shook hands. Victor looked to be in
his late thirties or early forties. His hair was long and dark, tied in the
back by a silver clasp that held a large turquoise stone in the
center. Magnificent paisley dots and lines fanned outwards from the stone,
onto the silver.

"I'm going to bind them together into a smudge stick." Victor told Sam.

"Cool," Sam said, "My mom uses smudge sticks all of the time--except, she
uses sage. She says it's for purification."

"Who's your mom?" Victor asked.

"Helen Throburghe," Sam told him, "She's a school teacher a little outside
of town."

"She's your mother's friend," the man pointed at Adam, "right?" I think I
remember her coming over for dinner a few times. I've given her one or two
smudge sticks. She makes a good strawberry preserve. Do you know if she'll
be making any more, soon?"

"No, I don't but I'll ask her."

***

Macy sat beside Helen.

"I'm glad they went out." Macy said, "Do you think they heard us last
night?"

"No," Helen said. "I think there's been far too much going on for them to
have noticed us."

Macy remained silent.

"Besides, I think the wine put them out pretty quickly. What do you think?"
Helen shared a scandalous smirk with Macy. It was the kind of smirk that
told Macy she should know what Helen was referring to--even though Macy
didn't.

Macy laughed. "I didn't even know we had left wine out!"

"Oh," Helen grinned and kissed Macy, "I guess I forgot to take it with us."

It's a fact: Helen had planned to leave the wine out so the boys would be
too distracted to notice where they had disappeared to . . . much less, the
noise.

 Helen had waited patiently for Macy's schedule to open up more (it had
been a month until it finally did). Her job at the school was only three
days a week. The curriculum Helen had been developing for the counseling
program at her school had been completed and she was awaiting word of its
acceptance. So the rest of the week she waited for her date with Macy.

She wondered often why they couldn't just move in together. Macy said it
was to keep appearances with her family. But Helen knew it was for her
business more than anything else. Once word got out that Helen was in a
lesbian relationship with a local teacher, the shit would hit the fan. The
school Helen worked for would be completely indifferent to it. As they
were, she'd already told them. The entire school was run by the
co-directors. All decisions were made through a modified-consensus
process. She was a co-director. And even if there was an executive director
(which would imply dictatorship), it was a fucking alternative school!

When they had the time they were inseparable. But there's the rub. They
didn't have much time for each other. Macy was married to her practice. And
Helen had a son. Not to say that she couldn't leave Sam to his own
devices. Sam had gotten used to being alone often. It was something that
Helen had not liked to see happen, because sometimes she wondered if
leaving him alone so much while he was maturing was neglectful. But Sam had
to grow up. That was a hard pill to swallow, even if she was a therapist.

The nape of the neck was a very sensual place, Helen decided. Macy was
sitting in the bathtub, allowing Helen to sponge her gently. Victor had
called to let them know that the boys were at his place. Helen had asked
him to please keep them as long as he wanted. They had some personal
business they wanted to take care of. Victor took the hint and agreed that
he would, as long as Helen sent a few jars of preserve his way. Macy
chuckled at the thought of two sixteen year old boys having a babysitter.

Theirs was a relationship of few words. It had been since the
beginning. They had gotten used to being able to tell what the other was
thinking by sharing looks with each other. It started only days after the
incident at the gym, the catalyst for their friendship.

Helen, a mostly passive woman, found it incredibly attractive that Macy had
puffed herself up enough to scare that stupid straight man away. Helen made
it a point to strike a conversation with Macy whenever she could. It didn't
take as long for Macy and Helen to spend time outside of the gym as it had
for them to first start talking.

Helen carefully dipped Macy's head back into the water, so she could wash
out the shampoo that she had lavishly massaged into her scalp. When Macy's
head broke the surface, she was overwhelmed with the strong scent of
roses. The candles surrounding the tub and the rest of the room were even
brighter, after she had closed her eyes.

Their weekly meetings were to begin on Saturday, after Macy had finished
the last of her work, and when Helen had already reviewed the last week and
prepared for the next. Neither one ever really took a break. Sometimes it
was Helen who wound up with more work, and Macy would be left sitting
around waiting. But that's later on in the story, after Macy's practice had
become more popular and she found her services in higher demand, and before
Helen's conception of a "Life Skills" curriculum that would change the
standard of education nation-wide.

That Thursday, at the gym, Macy approached the subject shyly.

"Hey Helen," Macy greeted Helen, who was beginning to pull off her work
shirt and change into a tank top.

"Oh," No matter how many times Helen had undressed in front of Macy, she
still found herself becoming modest. She hoped Macy couldn't see her
shyness. "Hi, Macy."

"Umm . . ." Macy looked down, into the gym bag that she was holding. "What
are you--do you want to do something on Saturday?"

Helen's heart skipped a beat, and she about died. She knew she couldn't
hide the shit-eating grin that she was wearing. And that only made her
blush madly. Helen took her time, covering her face with her dress shirt as
she tried to compose herself to look less shocked and . . . elated.

"Do something," Helen took the opportunity to put Macy back on the
defensive. "Like what?"

Macy looked up to meet Helen's gaze, then looking down so quickly that she
didn't even notice the other woman's blush. "I don't know. Would you like
to come over to my place for dinner?"

Helen feigned astonishment, "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Oh god, I'm sorry." Macy wanted to run. She took a quarter turn towards
the door, unconsciously, "I must have gotten the wrong impression. Please,
don't be angry!"

"I'd love to," Helen grinned.

Macy let out a sigh and grinned, too.

Helen didn't go home for two days.