"How's the baby?" she asks erupting into a fit of coughing as she's hacking up a lung and her body shakes so much the dirty robe slips off her left shoulder exposing her breast.I wait until she finishes.
As I start to speak she holds up her left hand, ignoring the pasty white exposed flesh, takes a drag from her cigarette and a long swig from a tall boy Pabst Blue Ribbon, then she spits pieces of her lung into the yard.
"Che's fine," I say.
"I know," she slurs, chasing the beer with a bourbon.
"Then why'd you ask?"
"Just being nice," she grins finally pulling the robe back over her shoulder.
I understand her already knowing though I'm completely confused that she's being nice.
It's been a long time since my Guardian Angel has shown up and she looks the same ... like she does meth and could die at any moment.
She claims she was once a beautiful Angel and I did this to her.
"A beautiful child," she coughs erupting into another fit.
The pasty white breast pops out again.
"What do you want?" I demand.
A mouthful of stained yellow teeth flash a grin.
"It's annual evaluation time and I need you to put in a good word for me," she says matter-of-factly while wiping snot on her dirty sleeve.
"I haven't seen you in over a year."
Irritated, she thrust her lit cigarette at me and barks, "And why do you think that is Sherlock?"
"I figure Jimmy Cochran's kept you pretty busty."
My Guardian Angel only has two assignments ... me and Jimmy.
"I haven't seen him in a while either. His mother keeps him straight and it frees up my time to concentrate on the things I want to."
"Like what?"
Spitting a loogie that just misses my head but hits the cat feeding next door, she takes another drink before answering, "None of your damn business."
"Did he give you one?"
"OF COURSE HE DID," she yells. " Jimmy's scared shitless of me."
"I dunno," I say picking up "Mr. Brown can Moo, Can You?" a book Che's ripped off the last page, "it's hard to give you a reference if you haven't done anything."
"Listen, I've saved your ass a thousand times!"
"That's true. I wouldn't be here without you and you wouldn't look like you do with me ... let's make it an honest recommendation. Here ... heal this book for Che and I'll say the prayer."
If looks could kill I'd be long gone but ... an index finger with dirt under the fingernail touches Mr. Brown and the back page is restored.
"Dear God," I say with my eyes closed, "thank you for my Guardian Angel. I don't know what I'd do if you ever took her away. Amen!"
She takes a drag from her cigarette.
"Aren't you going to say thank you?"
"Go to Hell," she snaps disappearing and then in the distance, I faintly hear, "Really is a beautiful baby."
