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A Serial Short Story : Fred the Angel Part 2

Tim is a freelance writer, poet, artist and storyteller. He always tries to find and include lessons for everyone in his writing.

short-story-the-angel

Intro:

A serial for those who don’t know is a continuous story where you get one part of the story each week for certain number of weeks. These stories were popular back in the days of radio and early motion pictures. Before the feature movie was played a serialized feature would play.

One of the popular of these was Flash Gordon. Every week people flocked to the cinema just to get their fix of the serials. The serials often drew people to the theater. A hope you have enjoyed these stories of Fred the Angel so far.


Fred vanished. I got in my car, pulled from the curb and headed home. Unknown to me at the time was that Fred and the Angel Gabrielle were still there, invisible and talking.

“So Fred, how much are you going to tell him about what is going on?”

Fred sighed. “I would love to tell him everything but I just can’t...you know Heavenly rules and regulations.”

“Good I see you're learning. Now keep up the good work and we’ll talk later.”

Gabrielle left Fred just standing there staring at the Mary’s house this was going to be a hard case to bring to a fruitful ending.

The next day, Saturday, I awoke and got some tools together. I headed over to Mary’s house ready to begin some demo work. I sat in my car looking up at the house. I was still not sure about this whole situation. Letting out a sigh I walked up the steps and prepared to knock on the door.

Before I raised my hand the door opened. There stood Mary. I looked at her. I don’t know why but I felt connected to her. It’s not that I felt a romantic to her...just a connection.

“I didn’t think you were coming.”

I shuffled my feet. “It took me longer to get my tools together than I expected.”

“No problem. You want to come in? I made some coffee.”

“Sure,” I brushed past her on my way in the door. She smelled like lilacs.

Angels watching over me.

Angels watching over me,

Angels watching over me.

Unseen hands, guiding me,

— Richard Smallwood

I stood and watched her. “So where do you want to begin?”

“I emptied out the kitchen out the kitchen so I figured we’d start in there. I have a dumpster on the way.”

As if on cue we heard a beeping noise from outside.

“I think your dumpster is here.” I said.”

She opened the door and then ran outside. I heard a car starting. I figured I would follow her. When I got to the porch. I saw here as she directed the driver where she wanted the dumpster. I looked at the driver, Fred the Angel.

I rushed down the steps and over to the truck.

“What are you doing here?”

Fred smiled. Merely came to check up on you. Remember my success is tied to your success.”

“Yeah about that...what am I here to do? I mean besides the obvious, help renovate the house.”

“Everything will be revealed in time. For now just stay the course. Now if you don’t mind...I must unload this dumpster and get the truck back.”

“ An angel driving a truck…” I shook my head and started to away when I noticed Mary. She’d watched the interaction between Fred and I. I walked back up to the steps to where she stood.

“Do you know him?”

I looked back at Fred as he drove away. “Kind of, I met him a couple days ago. Ran into him on a hike up,the woods. Interesting character.”

“Well anyway, ready to get started.”

“Yeah, let me get my tools out of the truck

Jon Moore

Jon Moore

We unscrewed the kitchen cabinets off the walls in order to save them. Mary wanted to donate them later. Once we finished with upper cabinets we moved to the lower one. Underneath one of the base cabinets we found a small cardboard cigar box.

“Did you know the box was under there?”

Mary shook her head. “No idea”

“The thing that strikes me as weird is how did somebody get the box under the cabinet in the first place?”

Mary looked at the cigar box. “My parents remodeled the kitchen when I was little. My guess is they put the box under there for safe keeping…”

“Or so nobody would find it for years.” I chimed in.

Mary looked at me/ I could not tell if she were angry at my words or just had a similar thought running through her mind.

Unknown to us Fred stood not five feet away as he watched the scene unfold in the kitchen. “Phase 1 is complete,” he said to himself as he faded out.

“I guess the only way to find out is to open the box.” Mary broke the seal on the box and lifted the lid. Inside were some baby pictures of Mary and some official paperwork. Mary started to read the paperwork then let it slip through her fingers. It fell to the floor. She turned and walked away half sobbing, a shocked look on her face. I picked up the papers and started to read them. It appears Mary Jones was not her parents biological child. She was adopted. I looked up at Mary.

“All those years I thought they were…”

“Mary for all intents and purposes they were your parents. Anyway...I assume they loved you like their own."

“Yes, they did everything they could to make my life a happy one. They sacrificed a lot to send me to college. Supported all my decisions....they loved me.” The one aspect of this I don’t understand is the fact it says in those papers...I have a sibling, somewhere out there.”

I glanced over the papers. Sure enough the last paragraph talked about Mary being one of two children put up for adoption. I envied her even having one set of parents. My parents had died in an accident soon after I was born. I spent my lifetime in one foster home after another.

I looked at Mary. She had a quizzical look on her face.

“Sorry, I said . Just lost in thought.”

“Do you think we could find out if the agency is still open?” Queried Mary. “I mean if they are then...no never mind they are most likely bound by law not to disclose who the parents were.”

“Hey you’ll never know until you ask.” Great I thought. Where did those words come from? I was already knee deep into helping Mary. I may as well go all the way. “Poor choice of words.”

“What?” Mary asked as she eyed me suspiciously.

“Oh nothing,” I said. “Just thinking out loud.”

“Well I guess there is nothing I can do over the weekend.” Sighed Mary. “So we may as well get these cabinets onto the porch so the ReUse guy can pick them up. Then maybe we can get a bit to eat and call it a weekend.”

We finished cleaning up the kitchen the headed out to an early dinner.

Unknown to either of us Fred the Angel stood and watched as we drove away. “Next step done.” He said to himself. Then faded out.

© 2020 Timothy Whitt