Percy Harper hadn’t been a Christian since his mother died. He crucified all remnants of his faith when his license to practice law was revoked. Somehow, adultery had become a grave sin against the Constitution.
But he still had Eve. A popular lingerie model with an addiction to sports cars, Eve was every man’s sinful fantasy. Percy used to worship her during their college days at Columbia. Once passionate lovers, their marriage became less than a shadow of what it had once been. Scenes of walking through the park hand-in-hand, sneaking into cinemas, and passionate kisses by the lake seemed ever so distant. They even went to church together. Once the rumors took wind about his extramarital affairs, Percy and Eve slowly drifted apart. His less than interesting job as a sales manager at a department store on Magnificent Mile was on the decline as well.
On a rainy winter day, not long ago, Percy rushed through the frigid windy streets of downtown Chicago. He glanced at his watch and realized he was late for another job interview. He stopped just before arriving at his destination. Something in the window of a jewelry store called Angel’s stole his attention. Never mind the three lavish diamond rings before his eyes, Percy focused on a shabby little silver ring in the center. There was no gemstone in the thick ring of sterling silver. He squinted to make sense of a weathered inscription etched into the band.
He blinked once as a man strode past in the reflection. The man was dressed in a tweed blazer that hid its original color underneath layers of filth. His attire was complete with a messy top hat of equal brilliance and faded green cowboy boots. The man had skin as dark as the ebony violin case Percy recognized in his left hand. He was a head taller than Percy and took long strides with each step. He smiled casually at Percy, tipped his hat, and kept walking.
Percy broke his stare with the ring and quickly turned around to see the man he had been viewing from a reflection. He looked left and right. The man was gone. Percy shook his head and continued to his interview.
“Thank you Mister Harper,” the interviewer said with a warm grin, “I’ll have a word with the board and you’ll be hearing from us very soon.”
Percy proudly exited the building and imagined the look on Eve’s face when he told her the great news. He hadn’t had a steady job in almost two years since he lost his license. He devised a plan to quit his sales job. The only thing standing in his way was the rush hour traffic. Percy imagined Eve would be lounging on the suede couch, listening to Oprah’s latest advice or sifting through one of her old lingerie magazines. He thought about her nearly flawless figure and how to seduce her into loving him again. In his mind, it was time to make things right.
The elevator arrived at his lavish loft on the twenty-fourth floor of a high-rise overlooking the Chicago River. He stuck the key in the door, took a deep breath and pushed it open. Percy’s heart refused to beat for exactly six seconds. Other than a glass table, the couch, a chair, and the plasma television, the apartment was completely empty.
More importantly, Eve wasn’t there.
The whole apartment was draped in cold silence. Percy slipped on the red wine spilled all over the hard wood floor. There was a letter waiting on the table. She mentioned the word divorce and ended with “Don’t find me.”
Underneath it was a set of black and white photographs – Percy featuring Jezebel. He sat down on the couch, pretended that Eve was next to him. He crossed his arms and put his head down in his lap in shame. Every tense muscle in his body commanded him to cry, but no tears came. He was glad no one was around to see him walk into this trap.
“Rough day?” a man’s raspy voice bellowed from beyond the living room.
Percy sat up immediately, startled by the unwelcome presence in his home. “Who the Hell are you? And what are you doing in my house?”
He was about a head taller than Percy with pitch black skin, think peach lips and a kinky white beard. His face was round and his beer belly protruded from his dirty tweed blazer. He placed a worn out three-stringed violin down by the foot of the couch. The man plopped down on the couch.
“Excuse me, where are my manners?” the man calmly said to Percy in his deep southern accent, “May I sit down?”
“No you may not. You have three seconds to tell me who you are and what you’re doing in my house or I’m going to…”
“Calm down, son. Everything’s going to be all right.”
“Calm down!? Listen here. I’m counting to three. If you’re not out of my house, we’re going to have a serious problem. One… Two…”
“Just sit down and stop threatening me, Percy.” The man started plucking away at his three-stringed violin.
Percy paused his countdown.
“How did you know my name?” he asked before squinting at the strange man’s face. “Wait, I think I know you.”
“No you don’t,” he replied, with a tone almost as flat as that of his instrument.
“No, I mean, I’ve seen you before – in the window outside the jewelry shop this afternoon. Yea, it was you carrying that messed up violin. You had a big hat.”
“Well looking at a person and knowing a person is two different things, isn’t it Percy? You want to learn how to play it? I promise it’ll help you relax.”
“No. And how do you know my name?”
“Sit down, please.” The man pleaded and stopped playing, “I’ll tell you everything you need to know if you just relax and sit down.”
Percy reluctantly sat on the opposite end of the couch and curiously awaited further instruction. The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a short white cigarette. He picked up Eve’s letter from the table to use as an ashtray.
“You got a light?” the man asked.
Percy hated smoke and noticed the ashes on the letter, but remained silent.
“All right,” the man began after pretending to take a puff from his little drug, “I know you’re upset that I’m in this house of yours, especially at a time like this.”
Percy nodded in agreement.
“Name’s Ralph. I was sent here to help you.”
“Help me with what?”
Ralph chuckled.
“What does that mean?”
Percy scrunched his face after glancing down at a square silver ring on Ralph’s finger. Though it was dingy, it still managed to glisten in the light. There was a faded inscription on it.
“I’m an angel.”
“A what?” Percy snickered at Ralph’s reply.
“Yes I know, I know. But it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Believe me.”
“Okay. So let me get this straight,” Percy’s lips cringed from the urge to laugh, “You’re some sort of an angel named Ralph, who has been sent here from Heaven or whatever to help me?”
“That I am.” Ralph’s tone was anything but cheerful. “I can only assist you if assisting you comes within the boundaries of my powers and abilities.”
Percy refused to believe this man. “So what kind of angel are you? Are you the kind kids read about in Sunday School? I thought you guys were supposed to be all bright and white? Now wait, you’re like a genie right? Do I get three wishes?”
“A genie? I am in all respects an angel of the deity you once knew as God. I was sent by my brother Michael, against my wishes, to help you. I don’t grant wishes.”
Percy became increasingly disturbed. He hadn’t been to church in ages but he remembered what people used to say about those who pretended to be messengers of God.
“Right. So Michael is your brother, Father Time is your uncle, the Easter Bunny is your cousin, and Santa is your pimp. I must be drunk. Where are your wings, angel?”
Ralph ran his fingers through his coarse white hair. “Please, call me Ralph and when we go to Earth, we lose certain privileges under certain circumstances. It’s complicated.”
Still unconvinced, Percy demanded, “If you are who you say you are, show me proof.”
Ralph sighed and put his head down.
“What is the problem? I want to see some magic.”
“I cannot perform what you call magic by my own prerogative. It’s more complicated than that.”
Ralph leaned back and placed his faded green cowboy boots on the glass table. “You want to know where your lady friend, what’s her name, ran off to?”
“Yes! I do. Where is she? Where is Eve? What did you do with her?”
Ralph giggled at Percy’s sudden spike in enthusiasm. His entire belly jiggled. “Can’t tell you all that.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because you don’t believe in me – ”
Percy opened his mouth.
“– What gets me is that you ran her away yourself. Now you want her back?”
Percy frowned at the implied accusation. His mind fixed on the pictures on the table.
“– All those affairs. All those late nights. You saw the pictures Percy. Didn’t you think she’d jump off of your one man bandwagon before you decided to kick her off yourself?”
Percy choked on his tongue. Ralph laid his cigarette on the table and rose from the couch.
“Look,” Percy said, “I don’t know who you think you are but I think you need to leave. I don’t want or need your help.”
“Well then,” Ralph straightened his blazer and headed for the door, “I don’t want to overstay my welcome. Enjoy your week Percy. In the meantime, I’ll keep a watch over you.”
Ralph grabbed the doorknob. “It was a pleasure.” He nodded then closed the door behind himself. Percy sat absolutely flabbergasted. How could this strange man just come and make a fool of him in his own home? The broken violin was still leaning against the couch. Percy picked it up and ran toward the door. Percy looked to the right and to the left. The hallway of his floor was dead silent. Empty. He threw the violin out into the hallway and slammed the door shut.
TBC…
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