A stormy Friday night. The pitch-black sky concealed everything but a great round moon. Angel and her dog Maize were headed home to Parklund, and the weatherman was reporting wind gusts of 30-40 miles per hour on the radio.
“Yah lying,” Angel screamed at the radio.
The conditions had to be much worst. Angel had just crossed the last bridge that connected New Bethill to Shiloh Hill. Her eyes were focused. The weather person had to be wrong, her Mercedes weaved about the road recklessly. She gripped the wheel and downshifted. The rain was mixed with ice, her tires were splotchy. These were the times she wished Emmanuel was still part of her life. She wished he was there to drive her home. He would do that, come up to New Bethill where her office was and take her home, even if the weather wasn’t bad, but especially if it were bad. Whenever she did drive herself, he would call her over and over. Sometimes he hung on the phone and talked to her till she got home.
He did other things too when it came to her car, he made sure the tires were rotated and had air. He made sure the oil and breaks were changed and the headlights worked. He made sure her gas tank was filled and she had windshield wiper fluid. Angel turned the wipers on high and rolled her eyes.
“Hon,” he said the last time it stormed. He went out early that morning, he shoveled the driveway and had her car warmed and waiting when she came outside. “Don't forget when you get to work, leave your wipers up. It's suppose to snow again this afternoon,” he said.
She had worn the rain boots he had gotten her for her birthday, and he commented on how nice they were when she got into the car. “Sexy,” he said, “wearing my boots.” Then after he inspected the car he walked to the edge of the driveway and directed her out. Before she left he stopped her and gave her a kiss.
Almost a year ago, Angel thought. She started to feel more confidence because she was only a few miles away from her house. The radio played music, and just like that Angel realized the song was, I will Always Love you, by Whitney Houston. She changed the station. The last thing she wanted to do was hear a love song on a rainy, cold night.
She slowed down as she approached the house. Her entire front yard was lit up like Christmas. Emmanuel put motion lights on the front and if anything, or anyone was within six-feet of the front yard the lights came up. Angel sat for a moment and glared at the massive structure. She wanted that house so bad, did all she could to get the place because she thought that would be their final home.
“It really is,” Angel said, “our final home, because we will never have another, not together.” With a sigh, she pulled into the driveway and got out of the car.
Outside smelled of rain and snow. The wind was still fierce, it pounded on her back as she looked around at the trail of puddles that led to the pond next to her property. During the summer months the sound of frogs would greet her, now it had been replaced by the sound of the rain hitting the water and the concrete. The front gates were loose and her trash cans rolled around like tumble weeds.
“Damn,” she said, Maize jumped out the car and headed for the front door.
Inside the house, Angel walked past her office, it was just off the front door. The formal dining room was next, off to the right and straight ahead was the kitchen and the family room. The windows crossed the entire back of the house and when Angel turned on the lights and glared into the dark black yard, a stroke of lightening lit up the black sky.
"Thunder and snow," Angel said. For a moment she tried her best to remember if she had ever heard of such a thing.
Maize rushed for the back door.
“You would want to go out in all this,” Angel said.
Maize, waited at the back door. The little dog sat patiently and watched as Angel opened the frig, and poured herself a glass of wine. Maize big, brown eyes followed her as she walked to the door. Angel patted her on the head and opened the door.
“I’ll give you five minutes, Maize,” Angel said.
The dog walked out with caution. She peered into the darkness and after a few drops of the rain poured over her, she jumped down the steps. The steps were iced in patches, but she followed the concrete path to the edge of the yard and jumped in the snow. Angel returned to her wine glass and after she finished the glass, she poured another. She went upstairs, got her rain jacket and took off the boots Emmanuel had gotten her and put on a worn-out, old and ratty pair of boots. Then she went outside to tend to Maize.
Outside the conditions were serious and Angel wasn’t sure if it was a snow storm, or a tornado. The wind gusts were heavy, she could barely walk straight. The hail that poured out the sky prickled her face. The shed door had opened with a bang and crashed shut. The lights in the back were not as bright as the front, and Angel had to search in the darkness to find Maize. She hoovered behind a tree, trembling her white fur saturated.
Angel rushed to the dog and tried to pick her up, but Maize didn’t want that, she lifted her back leg and sprinkled. Angel took off her rain jacket and tried to shield Maize from the elements, but her coat flopped about in the wind wildly. She had worn a blue suit to work and was glad she had on her jacket, but after a few minutes it soaked through. She put it back on her soaked body and glanced back at the shed. The door started again. It opened and closed, opened and closed and opened and closed. The wind blew it with such force she feare the wind would catch the shed up and carry it in his grip until it landed somewhere over the rainbow.
“My Goodness,” Angel cried. She left Maize and rushed through a row of puddles. The smell of dirt, rain and water filled her nostrils. Once there she forced the door shut and tried to put the hook back on, but then she noticed the hook latch had been ripped from the wood. Fortunately, there was a padlock they didn’t use because Angel could never open it with the code. She pulled the shed door open, stepped inside and reached her hand in front on her until she found the string for the light. It came on, but it was still dark inside and smelled of gasoline from the quads that were against the walls. When her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she reached over a shelf lined with tools and the padlock. That's where she had discovered the pictures--the pictures he'd kept for years and years. Angel shook her head and grabbed the padlock
With a heave, she pushed the door shut, locked the padlock and returned to Maize. The wind had carried her off to another tree and the dog tried her best to walk towards the back door. Angel grabbed Maize and was about to go inside, when she remembered the front gate. Like the shed doors the gate was forced opened by the wind.
Angel dropped her head and started for the side of the house. She was blown around as she came around the side of the house, with Maize tucked inside her jacket. They were both soaked. Angel’s feet were wet and she just wanted to turn around and go inside, forget about the gate. She was almost at the gate when she was blinded by bright lights. The lights didn’t just come from the front yard, but were directly before her.
She hesitated. At first, she thought the police had come to rescue her from the storm. Maybe the conditions were far worse than she even imagined. As she stood staring at the light, a figure walked towards her carrying the trash cans. It was then she realized it was Emmanuel.
He was like her night and shining armor. He’d come to the rescue. Angel wanted to run towards him, reach out and grab him, but she stopped herself. He walked over and grabbed the gate and held it in place with a strap, and then he set the trash cans inside. He placed boulders on top to prevent them from blowing away. All the while she stood and watched him, her eyes were blurry from the rain that fell upon her face. Angel could have cried, she was filled with such gratefulness. He had come to her rescue.
“You good,” he called out. He stood with the rain pouring over his head, but he was as handsome as ever. Wearing his every day leather jacket, and his favorite pair of jeans, flashing his white teeth.
Angel nodded her head, she just wanted to cry. She just wanted him to stay with her and be her husband again. The delight was overwhelming.
“I just stopped by to make sure things were okay over here,” he said and he walked in her direction.
“Thanks,” Angel said. She smiled when he stood face to face with her.
“It was like The Wizard of Oz back here,” he said with a laugh.
Angel agreed, “Yes. Thank you, Emmanuel,” she said and without a second thought she put her arms around him and held him close for a long moment.
He returned the embrace. Held the back of her head like he used to. He smelled fresh like soap and deodorant.
After their embrace, she stared at him for a long moment. He was really like a wizard. She stared into his eyes and wondered was he the man she had loved and given everything too. In that very moment, as she watched him, the superhero, she wondered who he was. Was he the man that stood before the minister and professed his undying love, or was this the man that kept pictures of naked women, that shared intimate photos of himself without a second thought. Was this the man that promised to protect her from hurt or harm, or was this the man dumb enough to give another woman his home address. As much as Angel wanted to let Emmanuel inside the house, as much as she wanted to invite him in to have a glass of wine, let him stay the night. She realized she didn’t even know who he was.
“Thanks again” Angel said. She pulled herself away and she walked to the door. She hesitated only to watch Emmanuel return to his truck and drive off.
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