The Palm Tree with the oyster face, coconut bra and grass skirt smiles but says nothing. A billion stars twinkle overhead and a symphony of waves crash in the distance. Salt sticks to my skin in the hot summer night. It's a silent night ... holy night."HEY!" I yell again. "NOW WOULD BE GOOD!"
"I'm busy," an Angelic voice sings out of nowhere.
"I DON"T CARE!" I snap. "I NEED A MOMENT."
"What?" my Guardian Angel asks, appearing out of nowhere looking like a Prostitute on a good night.
"Oh good you're here," I sigh sitting down at the table on the Beloved Back Deck. "We need to talk."
"I'm busy," she says thrusting a lit cigarette tip toward my face.
"I don't give a shit," I snap. "You're my Guardian Angel and I frigging need you."
"Hold on," she sighs and disappears.
Drumming my fingers on the table, a habit I have when I'm anxious, I wait.
"What?" she asks, appearing in front of me with a tall boy Pabst Blue Ribbon and shot of bourbon in a glass. One wing is broken, her white robe is dirty and her black hair hangs limply around her pasty white shoulders.
"What took you so long," I snarl impatiently.
"I was busy," she sarcastically sings then takes the shot.
"Well don't be so bitchy," I shoot. "I need to know something."
"What?" she asks rolling her eyes, taking a drawl from the beer and then from the cigarette.
Moisture fills my eyes as I stare at the heavens and my voice cracks as I speak. "So listen ... I think I'm praying more than I ever have ... I mean really praying ... not in public ... but in bed ... all frigging night ... laying there tossing and turning ... and nothing happens ... it's just quiet."
"DUH," she says adjusting her robe so it doesn't fall over her shoulder too far.
"I could really use a little help here."
She stares at me for a long time through a halo of cigarette smoke before coughing, hacking up a logy and spitting it over the side.
"Yes?" she hisses.
"I mean I got lots of stuff," I rush explaining. "How we gonna keep going? I got a wife with kids and I have to take care of them."
After a long moment of silence she lights another cigarette and asks, "Yes?"
"What do you mean 'Yes'?" I snap.
"Do you love them?" she asks as though she's helping me fill out a Driver's License application.
"Well yeah," I answer.
"Do they love you?" she asks as though she's bored out of her mind.
"Yes," I snap.
"What the Hell do you want from me?" she says standing.
"I need some assurance that every little thing's gonna be alright?" I snap getting in her face.
"Did you just quote Bob Marley?" she laughs.
Embarrassed, I admit I did.
"It is," she says placing a dirty hand on my shoulder.
"Well," I say needing to justify a 911 call to my Guardian Angel, "What about Guy Sayles? That's just not right!"
"Yeah," she says crushing the beer can on the table, "I really do need to get back to him."
"So ..." I begin.
"I told you I'm busy," she smiles flashing yellow teeth. "Go back to bed and feel the love."
A billion stars blaze on a hot summer night with a symphony of waves crashing against the shore. Salt layers my skin and the Palm Tree with the oyster face, coconut bra and grass skirt is smiling.
"Well then," I say facing her.
And I swear to God, the Palm Tree winks.
