Tuesday 19 July 2016

Danny and Steve

                As this is a blog that I post online and share through social media, I’m sure there is a high expectation that I talk about Pokémon Go. I’ll just say this on the matter: it’s fun and it gets you out exercising without you really noticing. If you want more of my thoughts on the matter, just check my twitter. On with the blog!
                Everything is in a state of perpetual flux. Just as things are going smoothly, something will happen that shakes things up. That jars reality. Things will stay rocky for a while, but eventually it will smooth out again.
                That’s how life works. It’s how we expect things to go. What we don’t expect is the involvement of an especially sheltered angel who “just wants to help”.
                I had just found out I was behind on literally all of my bills due to some clerical error, my girlfriend had decided to leave, and the servers were down on my favourite game. I couldn’t see how things could get worse.
                Then a bright light and a screeching sound shattered three of my windows and cracked my tv.
                Plus the sound really hurt my ears. Like, a lot.
                Out of the bright, white light, stepped a figure. Normally angels appear as majestic beings, with flowing locks, and the bodies of athletes. This one looked like a dude named Steve.
                “Hey, I’m, uh, your guardian angel? Yeah, that’s it. Anyway, the name’s Steve. Nice to meetcha,” he said, extending his hand.
                Bewildered, I grabbed his hand, “I’m Dan, but, you—um, you would know that?”
                Steve the angel still had not let go of my hand and began dragging me around the mess of my living room. “Geez Dan, would it kill you to clean up a little? I know your life sucks, but this glass is dangerous!” He snapped the fingers of his free hand, and the shattered glass flew off the ground and back into the window panes. The cracks were still visible, and somehow the one on the TV had grown. He led me to an armchair, where he finally released my hand. He gestured for me to sit, and once I had, sat on the floor in front of me.
                “Uh,” I began.
                “Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Steve said consolingly, I think, but it sounded more condescending than anything else. “Things are kind of a mess right now, aren’t they? Sucks the big one. I been there. Think I was always a lowly guardian angel? Think I always went by Steve? No, at one time I had full, luscious hair, and went by the dignified name of Stefanos. I got to hang out with the archangels! But then, things kinda fell apart for me—wasn’t any of my fault, of course!” He reached up and put his hand on my knee, “You’re gonna get through this, Dave.”
                “My name’s Dan, and I—“
                “Right, right, Dan. You are going to be good, Dan, you got me by your side!” Steve the angel smiled beatifically, and then fell to his side. “Oh, who am I kidding? Look at me, Dave, look at me!” My corrections went unnoticed this time. “I’m a huge mess! I’ve lost my hair, I lost my girl! And now I’m stuck here, slummin’ it with you lot! I used to be somebody, Davey boy! I was there when the walls of Jericho fell; I stopped the destruction of Nineveh! But then, when I was supposed to go to some John guy with a prophecy, I went to the wrong guy. I really screwed the pooch there, Danny-san. Because I told the wrong John, the prophecy got all messed up. I mean, Wormwood? What is that even supposed to mean? That’s when things really started to go sour on me. The other angels started calling me Steve, and not inviting me out. Can you imagine being called Steve for two thousand years? It was pure he—well, not that, obviously.” Steve started gently crying into my carpet.
                “Yes, well, that is quite terrible. I’m sure you did nothing at all to earn that scorn, there were probably loads of people named ‘John’ back then.” I said, feeling oddly compelled to comfort the angel.
                The gentle sniffling stopped, and Steven raised his head, “You think?”
                “Uh, yeah, yeah I do. I mean, I would’ve assumed to take it Jesus’s friend John too, not some other one.”
                “Yeah, the one Jesus knew was the right one… I just couldn’t remember what he looked like. I was pretty high on life at the time. Oh, life is this special kinda drug thing that we angels have. Anyways, so I went and put up some posters, and gave the prophecy to the first John who came. How was I to know there was more than one?” Steve shook his head ruefully, “After that is when I got demoted to guardian angel. At first I was assigned some important people like Joan of Arc, Pope Benedict VI, among others, but after they all got murdered when I wasn’t paying attention, I got demoted again to looking after people who weren’t important. Like you, Danny!”
                I suddenly stood up: “I need tea.” I didn’t actually want tea, I hadn’t drunk tea by choice in years, but I walked into my kitchen and turn the kettle on. What had my life become? How had my life become so messed up that heaven’s least reliable angel had come to have a chat? The kettle begun whistling, so I splashed some water into a mug and added rum.
                “Listen, Steve,” I said as I walked back into the living room, “I think we should have a chat.” Steve had taken his shirt and shoes off, and was watching rugby with his feet on my coffee table. “I think it’s great that you came to see me and all, but I think I’ll handle this. Ya know, upon reflection, I was probably the cause of most of my problems.  Thanks for those stories; they really helped me clear some stuff up.”
                “What do you mean?” Steve asked.
                “Well, your stories. You told me them to show me that I had to take responsibility for my actions. How everything that’s going on in my life was because of something I have done, in a way.”
                Steve looked puzzled, “Not what I was going for, but you’re saying that I’ve helped? That I have fulfilled my duties as a guardian angel?”
                “I guess so?” I answered with a shrug.
                Steve stood and stretched, “Awesome, I’m gonna head out and catch the rest of this game someplace nicer.” With that, he disappeared in that blinding white light again, freshly shattering my windows. On the positive side, somehow the TV had fixed itself.

                In reflection, I don’t think Steve had taken the same lesson from his stories as I had. 

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