Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Belated


There are times when being an Angel sucks.
Don’t get me wrong, I love being an Angel. The pay is fantastic, the management is more than decent and the method of transportation is simply, quite frankly, out of this world.
It rocks being an angel. Being able to whiz around the world at will. Being able to speak over a million languages. Being able to walk through walls into homes, offices and yes—shower rooms, those are advantages that very few occupations can boast of`.
But there are other times when, despite the seemingly infinite benefits, being an Angel truly can suck.
Like now.

I stared at the sitting frame of my new assignment.
He was slouched in a couch watching some channel called CNN. In his hand was a bottle of water—His lone source of hydration ever since he had sworn of coke 3 months ago. On any other day, I would have considered him a fine specimen as far as human standards went but today I found him to be most irritating.

I wasn’t on vacation—that rarely happens for Angels. It is one of those things that we are not allowed to do, right after eating chocolates (No one likes an overweight angel you see).Besides, the whole idea of vacation is stopping to have a great time. Angels already have a great time. Vacation , for us, was totally unnecessary.

So I wasn’t on vacation.
If I was on vacation then—maybe—I would have been less irritated with the cross-legged human in front of me. But I wasn’t and so I was.
You see the thing was, it wasn’t just that I was on assignment.
It was the worrying fact that he was the assignment.
And as far as assignments go he was like one of those calculus equations that teachers sometimes give 3rd graders just to frustrate them.
He was being irritatingly difficult.

I stared at his unruffled forehead. To the casual observer, he looked to be in perfect health. His body was not overweight, his eyes darted around in focused scrutiny and the silent bob of his head gave evidence to his hearing.
However as far as I was concerned, he seemed dead to my existence.

I heard a soft whoosh behind me and heaved a sigh of relief.
“Hello Legna.” I said quietly.
Angel Legna walked up to my side and smiled at me. “You’re getting better Mourinho.” He murmured. His perfect wings softly beating up and down. “You knew it was me without looking.”
I gave a half smile. Normally it would have been a good compliment but right now I wasn’t feeling particularly receptive. There was a reason why wings were tucked between my legs and it wasn’t because of the overhead fan.
Legna stood beside me and we both stared at my assignment. We watched as he reached for the remote control beside him and quickly surfed through the channels. After a stunning change of stations he settled on some channel called “E”. They were talking about some lady called Angelina Jolie. He sighed happily and relaxed deeper into his chair.
“This is him?”Legna asked me.
“Yes it is!” I replied.
“He doesn’t look that troublesome.”
“They rarely do.” I replied tersely.

Angel Legna laughed at me.
“Don’t let it get to you. Humans are notoriously difficult and stubborn.” Again he chuckled softly. Probably at some memory. He scratched his smooth chin “What’s the assignment anyway?”
I sighed out loud.
“I’m supposed to inspire him. According to the reports he is supposed to be a writer. But he hasn’t written anything worthwhile recently.” I explained.
“So you’re here to help him?” Legna asked.
“Yes. That would be it.”
“Kinda like a Muse. You’re on Muse detail.” Legna said.
“Yes. I guess you could say that. Only this Muse is not amused with this musing moose.” I retorted.
Legna laughed out loud.
“You’re really adjusting to being an angel. Musing moose… that’s priceless.”
This time I couldn’t help it. I smiled back at him.
We chuckled for another 5 seconds then Angel Legna quietened down.
“So what is he suppose to write. What are you trying to prod him into writing? A story? An essay? An assignment”
I shook my head. “None of those. Try a blog.”
“OH?” Angel Legna said. “He is a blogger?”
“Yes.”I muttered. “Goes by the name Carlang. I have no idea why he chose that.”
Legna chuckled.
“That’s actually simple as far as blogging names go. You should try names like Afrobabe and Nigeriadramaqueen.”
I frowned.
“Bloggers?”
He nodded in affirmation. “Yes. Both of them. I was assigned to them recently. They had the same problem with this……Cartlan?”
“Carlang.” I corrected.
“Carlang. Got it!” Legna said. “Well... I had to persuade my two to get writing as well. Like him they had tumbled into an unnecessary hiatus. Unlike him they eventually they got round to it.” He stared at my assignment who was still staring at Angelina Jolie. I wasn’t sure but it looked like he was drooling “Off course, I suspect my job was a lot easier because my subjects were females. Males are notoriously difficult to get through.”
“I noticed” I said dryly.

“Have you tried talking to him” Legna asked.
I snorted.
“Right.” Legna said with a laugh.”I’m sorry about that. I’m guessing you’ve tried everything by the book.”
“Everything!” I stressed in frustration.
Legna smile.
“Well then I guess it’s time you tried something out of the book.”
“What would that be?”
He gave me a mischievous smile. I never thought Angels were capable of those. I became wary.
Legna pointed at my waist. “Use it.”
It took me a second to comprehend what he was talking about.
“No!” I gasped.
“Yes!” he said firmly. Then his smile softened. “Don’t worry. You’re not doing anything illegal. We do it all the time.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Really!” Angel Legna said with a serious expression. “How do you think Noah managed to complete building the ark?”
“I always wondered about that.” I murmured.
I stared at Carlang. He was channel surfing again—did humans ever stop watching TV. It seemed like all they seemed to be ever doing.
“So do it already.” Legna said.
“Poke?” I suggested.
“Poke!” he confirmed.

There are times when being an Angel sucks.
And there are times when it is totally cool to be one.
With a happy smile I pulled out my sword. It was a beautiful engraved piece. I had never made out exactly what the symbols on the blade meant but it was exquisite. I stared at the smooth blade which had fire softly trailing the edge. Up until now I had never used it. I hoped I wasn’t drooling.
Beside me Angel Legna chuckled.

I stared at the lazy unreceptive blogger called Carlang.
And then I poked him with my sword!