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Historical March 1996 article. Dates, prices, services and contacts describe the source period; current availability has not been established.
The chief angel pulled a coin from beneath his wings and tossed it in the air.
It fell slowly, almost as if in slowmotion, but that slowing down of physical effects happened to many such things here.
It rotated over and over, finally resting.on a cloud.
The chief angel peered closely at it, pushing his reading glasses up to the bridge of his nose. “Tails” he shouted triumphantly, “he lives!” At this there were groans from the other angels.
A tall one was standing leaning on a cloud, wearing- sun glasses. Two others, a male and female, were hovering in horizontal positions, eagerly waiting to hear the results of the coin toss.
The male angel was wearing earphones that were connected to a portable CD-player.
The female angel had shockingly bright yellow hair, made all the more obvious by the jet-black roots. “AU right, we know that he lives,” the chief angel continued, “but what about the two passengers in the car?” “Who are they and what have they done? How worthy are they?” the female angel asked.
The words were hardly out of her mouth and the chief angel had not had time to respond, when the angel in sunglasses said sarcastically, “‘How worthy are they’? Since when does that matter? We’re talking about traffic fatalities here, not life and death issues!” The chief angel cleared his throat and smoothed a ruffled feather.
The others grew quiet and waited for him to speak. “All right,” he began, speaking in a quiet voice, “I know this isn’t the easiest of assignments.
But that’s beyond our control. We’re here and we have a job to do. Before 1 came here I was in the Famine and Pestilence Division; it was much more fun. And you,” he went on, nodding at the angel wearing the headphones, “were in Murders and Mayhem. Those are certainly cleaner assignments than working in Auto Accidents, but this is our lot.” At this the angel with the yellow hair spoke. “I know, I know, it’s our lot. That’s what I was told when I was sent here.
I came from Diseases, you know, so I have lots of experience.
I don’t know what I did wrong to earn this assignment, but I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary.” “She’s right,” said the angel in sunglasses. “This is our lot and if we want to be reassigned, we have to do as good a job as possible. Let’s get on with it.” There was silence for a few minutes and then the chief angel spoke again. “All right, it was tails so we know that the driver lives. Our assignment now is to research the passengers.
We don’t have the luxury of flipping the coin twice more.” The blonde angel cleared her throat and spoke in a meek voice. “That’s fine.
I don’t know about the rest of you, but I prefer to decide, and it always helps me if I have some information about the intendeds. Coin flips are so, so, random, even if they are a big part of the formula!” “Let’s continue,” the chief angel said.
He held his hands above his head, palms parallel, and his wings began to move in large circular motions.
The wings moved faster. Wind began whipping around them, smoke appearing to form a sphere of gray and haze.
Then suddenly the wind stopped and the mist formed into a giant rectangle.
A lady’s face appeared in the middle of the smoke and the chief angel began to speak, “Her name is Marcia Diamond. She’s 33 and unmarried. Contributions, none really.
She cares for stray cats but that’s about it. Transgressions, quite a few.
She cheated on her college entrance exams, lied to every boyfriend she’s ever had, and doesn’t believe in recycling.” The smoke whirled, the image vanished, and a new, younger face appeared. “Linda Cooper is the other passenger,” the angel said, “25 with a new husband and, all things considered, someone with potential to be a major contributor.
She is a good listener, the kind others turn to for help. There’s no record of significant dishonesty, she donates to charities, and she works on weekends at a day care center. Or,” he paused and grimaced, “maybe it’s at a dry cleaning center.
The handwriting is terrible.” He turned to face the other angels, taking off his reading dasses, while the mist vanished. “In any case, given our charge, that’s easy,” the angel in sunglasses said, “one lives and one dies.” “I agree, one and one,” said the blonde angel. “And you,” the chief angel said, turning to the angel wearing headphones and speaking a bit more loudly, “what’s your call?” The angel removed the headphones and gently stroked his left wing, clearly in thought.
After a few seconds he said, “Yes, much as I’d like it just to be a major wreck with everyone surviving, that solution doesn’t fit our task. One and one, plus, of course, the driver survives.” All of the angels nodded and stood, their wings erect as they looked downward. Below them the clouds parted and they saw an isolated blue car speeding on a road. Nothing was visible besides the car on the road below.
The angels waited and. waited and then, ahead and far to the left of the car, some movement was visible.
A truck was moving down a road perpendicular to the auto. Already it was obvious that there was going to be a collision between them.
The car seemed to pick up speed and so did the truck.
The angel with the yellow hair wrapped her arms around herself and closed her eyes.
The angel with the sunglasses had removed them and was looking straight ahead, refusing to face what was going to happen below. And the angel that had worn the earphones was now hovering horizontally, his wings moving ever so slowly, in order to get a better look. “Any recall, station one?” the chief angel asked, removing his glasses and pointing his eyes above, looking to the sky. At this all of the other angels also turned their heads to look up.
After a few moments he continued, “Any recall, station two?” Again there was nothing but silence.
Meanwhile the two vehicles below continued on their paths. “Any recall, station three?” the chief angel asked.
After . what seemed like a long silence all of the angels tilted their heads downward, and the chief angel spoke again, “No recall, commence fate.” The words had hardly left his mouth when the two vehicles collided.
There was no sound to be heard from the crash, but a rippling of air caused each of the angels to move slightly, reeling upwards. .
As they looked down, they could see that the truck had struck the rear of the car.
The truck had gone off the road, but its driver had already jumped out to see if he could help.
The car had taken the brunt of the collision and rolled over several times. Slowly two people crawled from the auto, the driver and one other. “I don’t know about you,” said the blonde angel, “but I find this assignment a real downer.
It wouldn’t have been so bad if the younger one, the one with the potential, had been able to live. Why should we always have to make up for the errors made in Heights and Drownings Division?” “I agree,” replied the tall angel as he put his sunglasses on, “I’m going to spend some extra time this weekend, making amends for some mistakes I’ve made in one of my earlier lives. At this point, even working in the Nuclear Accidents would be preferable.”
Originally published in The Times of Skinker-DeBaliviere, March 1996.
Read this article in the original newspaper issue.
Original source: SD_Times1996_03.pdf, printed page(s) 8, 7; PDF page(s) 8, 7.
