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faced him. "Time to catch up."
Her fingers tickled his chest as she took off his white shirt. She laughed
drunkenly as she fumbled at his belt.
His legs went out beneath him and he sank to his knees.
"Thank you, God." Now he knew he could beat the monster.
"You've sent me an angel."
She grabbed a fistful of his hair and hauled him up.
"Listen, Henry." He had never seen her angry before.
"I
walked in here on my own two feet because you're the only man who never stared
at me. Nobody pushed me in here, especially not God. There is no fucking God!
Or if there is, he's got to be the most heartless asshole in the universe."
Her wings were flapped like pennants.
"You look at me. Go ahead. I'm a freak, a monster. I
didn't ask to be one and I had to learn to live with these damn things. And
nobody helped -- my mother gave me this dumb name -- I still haven't got any
god damn help. So if you want to thank somebody, you can thank
Celeste Sloboda for staying sane despite the way most everyone stares." She
was crying. "So that's the way it is, okay? I've pissed you off, you pissed me
off and now we can go home and hate each other."
"Celeste." She could think whatever she wanted. He knew
God's work when he saw it. She was full of a kind of pain the monster couldn't
use. Only he could. He knew that as long as he believed in this miracle,
nobody, nothing could stop him from being himself. "Let go of my hair?"
She released him and immediately stroked the back of his head. "I didn't mean
to hurt you." Her gaze softened.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want it like this."
Page 16
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He could feel the monster slipping away. "I want you,"
he said. Her face kept getting bigger until it was the only thing Henry could
see. They kissed forever and amen. Henry wasn't sure how he got naked. As he
led her to the bedroom he couldn't remember if any woman had ever seen him
naked before.
She paused by the bathroom, traced the line of his chin,
and smiled. "Henry," she said, "Do you think you might shave?"
Much later, he eased out from under the covers so as not to wake her. He
realized where the monster had gone when it left him. He pulled on his jeans,
padded into the living room and felt under the cushion. It was in the
Beretta. He stared at the gun without comprehension.
Even though it was still as hard and black and cold as ever, it didn't seem
real to him anymore. His first thought was to lose it in the dumpster behind
his apartment, but he was barefoot and it had set him back five hundred and
thirty-eight dollars. Tomorrow after work he could pawn it and buy some nice
woman thing for
Celeste.
He stripped the magazine, picked the shells out and wrapped everything in a
green garbage bag. Or maybe he should keep the gun for protection -- God knows
there were monsters loose in the city. He hid it under the sink and snuck back
to bed with his angel.
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