Johnny Angel

“No, she is, Dad! Get with it!” But neither of them heard him, as he waved at Bobby and his mother and walked out of the house through the front door. He opened and closed it so gently that no one heard him. And Bobby looked at his mother with wide eyes. They both knew that a miracle of sorts was happening to them, and the secret they shared seemed to bring them closer together than they'd ever been. She gently touched his shoulder as he took his seat between Charlotte and his dad.

It was an ordinary evening for them, and Johnny didn't come home until Alice was already in bed, reading.

“How was Becky?” his mother asked, peering at him over her reading glasses. She had just started to wear them, and Johnny said he liked them, which made her smile.

“She has a date tomorrow night,” he said victoriously.

“How did that happen?” Alice looked stunned. They had just been talking about how sad her life was.

“She met a guy at work today. He's a junior at UCLA, and he took a semester off to work for his father. He called tonight to ask her out.” He sounded pleased as he told her, but he had mixed feelings about it. His name was Buzz and he was really handsome, and bright and nice. His father owned a chain of liquor stores, and he drove a Mercedes. He even liked kids, and had three brothers and two sisters himself. “I'm not sure he's good enough for her,” Johnny told his mom, looking pensive. “But he looked okay to me when he walked into the drugstore. He went to the same high school we did. He recognized Becky as soon as he walked in. He graduated the year we were sophomores, and he always liked her, but he never asked her out before.”

“Did you set that up for her?” his mother asked him with curiosity and admiration. It had been a nice thing for him to do, if he had, and he looked as though he felt good about it too.

“I think so,” he said. He was not entirely sure yet of either his effect or his powers. “Charlie's still up, by the way. Isn't it kind of late for her?”

“Not really,” his mother smiled. He was so grownup now, in some ways, and still her little boy in others. “She's fourteen. You went to bed even later than that at her age,” she said, amused by his policing his sister, just as she saw Jim walk into the room, looking tired. Neither of them had heard him come in, and he seemed more sober than he usually was at that hour.

“Who were you talking to?” he asked, looking straight at her.

“Oh … I… myself … I do that sometimes when I'm alone.” She tried to look nonchalant.

“You'd better watch that,” he teased her. “People are going to start saying funny things about you.” She nodded, and Johnny left discreetly, and went to his own room. “You've been in awfully good spirits for the past few days. Any special reason?”

“Just feeling better, I guess. I think my ulcer's healing.” And she didn't seem as consumed with grief as she had been. He had noticed that about her. He had noticed a number of things. The nice dinner she'd made for them that night, the easy way she talked to him. She didn't seem as agonized or as strained. The kids were in better shape too. He just wished that business was better. But at least their family seemed to be slowly on the mend, not that any of them would ever forget losing Johnny, or be the same again. Nor could he forgive himself for the accident he'd had with Bobby, and what the trauma of it had cost him. A lifetime of silence would serve to remind him of his own part in it, no matter how he might try to forget, or what methods he used to anesthetize himself.

They lay in bed and talked for a while that night, and she couldn't help wondering if he was drinking less, or just tolerating it better. It was hard to tell. And as though to confirm it, the next morning she found half the beers untouched in the six-pack next to his chair in the living room. She put them back in the refrigerator, just as Johnny came down the stairs in his varsity jacket. He had asked her to drive him to Pam's beauty school that morning. There was something he wanted to see there, and Alice had nothing else to do so she'd agreed to drive him. She loved driving him places, just the way she had when he was a little boy. She had always enjoyed the time they spent together in the car.

“What exactly am I supposed to say to Pam when we walk in?” Alice asked in the car as she drove him. He was playing with the radio, and switching from one station to the other, enjoying all his favorite music. He was having a ball.

“Boy, I really missed that,” he said, looking happy, as she laughed, and reminded him that she had never visited Pam at work before, and she might find it a little odd. “Tell her you want to get your hair done.”

“And then what? Why are we going there?”