Short Stories

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Though a
host
encamp against
me,
my heart
shall
not fear.
[Psalms 27:3]
*******************
(It's midnight;
the smell of plastic bags,
dusty papers,
and cardboard fill the air.
Angels Briggund and
Sylvestor are hiding
behind a huge green
plastic container labeled
"RECYLE". Both are
kneeling on the cold,
dirty cement: looking
as if they are deep in
prayer to the Father:
petitioning for guidance
on an especially difficult
Angelic-Assignment.

Briggund, the big blond
angel, and his shorter
buddy, Sylvestor, aren't
praying at all; they're
really searching for
something.....and,
hoping they won't bump
into two particularly
nasty Lesser-Demons.)
_________________
"Have ya FOUND IT,
BRIGGUND:
the HANDLE?
I THOUGHT DARTH
TOLD US..
HE THREW IT OVER THE FENCE?"

"Uh, UH!"
(Briggund, a whole
head taller and
a lot more muscular
than his Fighting-Buddy: sighs.)
"Maybe, we
should just GO!
It's gettin' LATE!
Don't WE GOTTA
BE BACK, SOON?"

(Sylvestor stops
crawling around on the
dusty, grimy gound to
sneeze. Sitting up,
he grabs a piece of
his filthy dirty gauzy
gown to blow his nose
into it.)
"I THOUGHT WE
DIDN'T HAVE TO
PUT UP WITH ALL
THIS EARTH STUFF?
ACHHHHOOO!"
(Honking blow.)
"THE OTHER ANGELS
COME DOWN TO EARTH,
AND THEY
DON'T GET ALL DIRTY!"

(Briggund shrugs;
his own gown is
all wet from crawling
into a big puddle,
near one of the recycling trucks.)
"DUNNO, Sylvestor!
IT MUST BE THE
FATHER'S WILL!
LISTEN: LET'S GO!
IT'S TOO CREEPY,
OUT HERE! YOU KNOW
I DON'T LIKE EARTH,
AT NIGHT!
TOO MANY HIDING PLACES
FOR DARTH, AND HIS
BUDDIES!"

(Sylvestor wipes his bulbous nose,
again, on the edge
of one of his dirty matted wings;
the feathers smell like a
garbage truck. For the
past two hours, he
and Briggund had been
riding in one to the
recycling plant. They
could both fly, but the
humidity in this
particular place of Earth
was weighing them both,
down. Sylvestor wasn't
sure where they were;
he knew it was someplace
in the Land-To-The-West (west
of the Holy Land, that is.)
"Yeah, but.....
WHAT I AM GONNA
TELL THE LORD,
BRIGGUND? I STILL
haven't found my....
SWORD!"

"WELL......"
(Briggund sits up,
for a moment, to pick
another plastic grocery
bag off of his left wing.
His right side has lost
several large feathers:
while he was riding in
the garbage truck two
birds had flown inside
and picked off a bunch
of the feathers:
apparently for building
a nest in one of the
big maple trees, overhead.)
"...We're just gonna
have to ask for another
Search-And-RESCUE-
Assignment,
SYLVESTOR!
It's TAKEN US just 3 MONTHS...
to find out that Darth
pulled APART your
SWORD...and,
CAST IT into two different PLACES,
around HERE!"

(SNEEZE!)
(HONK.)
"How do we know
it's still around HERE?
HOW DO WE KNOW
HE didn't take it....
.....TO ANOTHER COUNTRY?"

(Briggund pulls out
another wet grocery
bag from inside his
beige, slightly freckled wing.
His feathers seem
to be a magnet for these
limp plastic things.)
"Uh, UH...Sylvestor!
Darth LIKES this PLACE!"
(Shrug.)
"Somethin' to do with
all the FATTENING FOOD!
And....HUMANS
who are easy to
LEAD INTO TEMPTATION!"
(Smacking at a nat who,
attracted to Briggund's
halo-light, keeps buzzing
around his big, freckled face.)
"HE NEVER LEAVES
HERE! COME ON!
LET'S GO GET SOME
SLEEP! WE'LL COME BACK,
TOMORROW....WHEN
WE'RE FRESH!

(Sylvestor, cold and
hungry, and dirty, woefully sighs.
At Home, he's never hungry,
but down here on Earth,
all he thinks about are
WhatABurgers....and,
FRENCH fries.)
"But.....where are we
gonna..SLEEP,
TONIGHT? Can't we
just....go HOME?"

(Briggund, waving away
the pesky nat from
his askew halo: points
upward.)
"Over THERE! On that
big, gray CLOUD: OVER
BY THE NORTHWEST!
WE CAN GET A FEW HOURS REST, THERE!
THEN, IN THE MORNING....
WHEN IT'S LIGHT.....
WE CAN START LOOKING
AGAIN, OKAY? WE
CAN'T GO HOME,
YET, SYLVESTOR!
NOT....YET!"

(Sniff: this time,
from a real tears
dripping from dark,
woeful eyes.)
(HONK.)
"Okay........"
(Sniff.)
"ALRIGHT........!
I GUESS....that sounds...
like a PLAN! BUT,
I'D RATHER JUST GO
HOME! WHAT DO I
NEED MY SWORD FOR..
ANYWAY? YOU KNOW
I CAN'T.....USE IT:
I'M WAY TOO CLUMSY!
WHY CAN'T I JUST LET
DARTH and R2D2*
...KEEP IT?"

(Suddenly.....the air
is filled with a beautiful,
rainbow-colored light.
Overhead is the sound
of a powerful whosh
of wings: ones that
are so huge, that two
of the big green
recycling bins marked
"Bexar County**", fall
over on their sides and
roll into one another:
all of their trash
contents spill out and
are sucked up into the
air, as though a small
tornado had just
touched down on the
recycling plant.)

(Both angels, faces
smudged with dusty
cement soot, and
garbage-truck grime,
look up: cupping their
eyes, and squinting
against the sparkling,
glittering, rainbow-hued
light. The light isn't
Holy: if it were, it
would be all Pure-White.
This light, the Angels
know, is coming from
another Angel....and,
a POWERFUL one, at that.)

"UH.....oh."
(Briggund whispers:
his own big, heavenly-blue
eyes wide in shock,
and admiration.)
"Is THAT.........?"

(Sylvestor, squinting
upward at the amazingly
rainbow of lights in the
midnight sky, opens
his plump mouth in a
downward gape. Then,
he gulps, and whispers
back to his friend.)
"No WAY!
It.....CAN'T BE!"
(Gulp.)
"NO!
I thought he was always.....in PERSIA***?"
(Gulp.)
"Fightin'.....ya know,
the Big BAD GUYS!"

(Briggund whispers
back; the nat has now
flown up his big,
freckled nose. He
sneezes really loudly:
enough to wake up the
demons.)
"YEAH! What would
he be doin' here....
in the Land-To-The-WEST?
I THOUGHT HE NEVER
COMES HERE,
Sylvestor!"

(Sylvestor, losing his
balance and sliding into
another mud-puddle,
squints so hard
that his halo....usually
dimly-lit and off-center,
drops into the puddle, also.
In the grimy, oily water, the
halo's light can be seen:
floating about like a
little life-saver from a
sailing boat.)
"Uh, oh."
(Sneeze!)
"I think...."
(Sneeze.)
"We're in....
TROUBLE."
******************
But,
Michael,
one of the
chief princes,
came to
help me,
so I left him
there
with the prince
of the kingdom
of Persia.
[Daniel 10:13]


_______________________
*The miniature, demonic
buddy of Darth-Demon.
**A county in South Texas:
includes the city of
San Antonio.
***See "A Tough Assignment for the
Medieval Knight."


Copyright 2011.

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