Rick Mofina - If Angels Fall

Gabrielle rubbed her eyes.

“Time to get up. We’re going to the playground.”

“Know what, mom?”

“What?”

“I dreamed Jackson was in my bed, licking my face!”

“You’ll always have him in your dreams, sweetheart.”

“In know. But it’s not the same as for real.”

“We’re going to see Letty and Elaine, so rise andshine.”

Wendy waved from their usual park bench. “Good morning,Nunns!”

The children called to each other.

“Boy, the joint’s jumping this morning.” Nancydeposited herself beside her friend and unscrewed the coffee thermos. “Iremember the days when we used to have the place to ourselves.”

“You sound like an old lady.”

The children scampered to the swings, Charlotte,Gabrielle, and Elaine held hands. Ryan trotted behind them. The women enjoyedtheir coffee and watched a pair of teenage lovebirds snuggling on a bench totheir left. A few yards away, on a tattered blanket under a tree, a scrawny manwas reading. To their right, a bearded man in sunglasses and a fedora sat alonewith his newspaper. He caught Nancy’s glance, and nodded. He went back to hisnewspaper, which reminded her of something.

“Did you bring your Chronicle ?”

Wendy produced her rolled edition from her bag.

Nancy began reading, gasping at the speculation thatDanny Becker’s kidnapper was a paroled pervert. She slapped the paper on thebench, looked over at Ryan and Gabrielle. If anything ever happened to then, itwould kill her.

“How can you be so calm about it?”

“Look at it logically. A zillion people live in theBay Area. Look at the odds. You’d win the lottery before this guy came afteryour kids.”

Nancy considered it. “What would I do without yourTexas common sense?”

“You’d go crackbrained and lock yourself up with thekids. Oprah would do a live show on your lawn. ‘Mrs. Nunn, it’s been twentyyears since the Bay Beast last struck — are you willing to let your grownchildren out of the house now?”

They laughed, poured more coffee, then discussedJoanne Tyson’s seventh birthday party at the Children’s Playground in GoldenGate Park. Of all places, they groaned. Well, it was a huge park and still abeautiful choice for a little girl’s giant birthday party, they agreed. Thirtykids. Wendy was saying something about Joannie’s mom going overboard when theyheard the scream. A child’s scream. They took instant head counts. All childrenwere accounted for. All standing. None bleeding. Gabrielle was screaming. Nancycaught her breath, realizing Gabrielle was not hurt.

“A puppy! A puppy! Look, Mommy, a puppy, just likeJackson!”

A teenage girl with a cocker spaniel tugging at aleash in front of her rushed near them. Gabrielle was poised to run to the dog.

The bearded man on the bench to their right looked upfrom his newspaper at Nancy calming her daughter.

“Shh-shh, honey. He’s a nice puppy, just like Jackson,but he’s not Jackson. You have to try to stop thinking about him. It’s hard,but you have to try.”

Nancy arched an eyebrow, a signal for Wendy’s help.

“Tell me, princess,” Wendy chirped. “are you all setfor Joannie’s monster birthday party?”

Gabrielle’s fawn eyes could melt an iceberg. “Letteand Elaine and me are going to ride the carousel and have birthday cake.”

Gabrielle skipped back to the others.

“Thanks, pal.” Nancy slapped Wendy’s shoulder.

“What are you guys going to do about her puppy-dogblues?”

“We’re surprising her with anew pup on her birthday.”

“Might be the cure.”

As they talked, the bearded man eavesdropped,appearing to be completing the crossword puzzle of his carefully foldednewspaper. In fact, he was making notes — notes about Gabrielle Nunn, who wouldbe six soon, about Jackson, her missing cocker spaniel, and Joannie Tyson’s upcomingbirthday party with thirty children. Chaos. The man made precise notes aboutthe time and location.

Then Edward Keller put the pencil stub in his breastpocket. He loved today’s news, the part about religious delusions. How couldmortals distinguish between delusion and divine revelation? Keller strolledfrom the playground, tapping his folded newspaper against his leg. Behind himhe heard the Angel Gabriel’s laughter and he was bathed in the light of truth.

Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus. Dominus Deus sabaoth .

Keller praised God for his help.

Gabrielle Nunn joined the chorus of shrieking girls spinning in the tub of thecarousel. Its ancient organ huffed a mazurka and Gabrielle was the happiest shehad been in weeks, almost forgetting that her dog Jackson had disappeared.

It was Saturday. Joannie Tyson’s seventh birthdayparty at the Children’s Playground in Golden Gate Park. A monster bash.Thirty-two kids. A tiny Be-In. The summer of cake and ice cream.

Gabrielle was wearing the flowered print dress hermother made especially for her six birthday, a few days away, but Gabrielle hadpleaded to wear it today. Her mother gave in. Then Nancy Nunn plaited herdaughter’s auburn hair into French braids. Gabrielle’s favorite. Now, whirlingand laughing with friends Tracey Tanner, Millie Palmer, and Rhonda King, whomeverybody called Help-Me Rhonda, Gabrielle was having a perfect day.

A dream day.

Round and round she went. Her stomach tingling as ifan ecstatic butterfly were fluttering inside. She wanted to ride the carouselforever. But when they finished their third successive tour. Nancy Nunn, whowas watching the girls, feared a fourth ride would be risky, given the amountof cake and ice cream they downed earlier.

“Can we catch up with the others now?” Millie Palmerasked.

Between the cake eating and the present opening, theparty had separated into small groups, each chaperoned by an adult.

Some had gone to the Troll Bridge, some to the MouseTower. Wendy Sloane had taken Letty, Elaine, and three other girls to theFarmyard.

“Can we go to the Mouse Tower, Mrs. Nunn?” TraceyTanner asked.

“No, the Farmyard!” Rhonda King said.

“Before we go anywhere, ladies, who has to go to thewashroom?”

Millie and Rhonda shot up their hands.

Nancy herded her foursome to the nearest washroom.Millie and Rhonda each found a stall. Nancy put Gabrielle and Tracey before themirrors to check their hair. Soon Millie came out of the stall to wash herhands. Minutes passed. Rhonda was taking a long time.

“Rhonda?” Nancy called, trying the stall door. It waslocked.

“Oh, Mrs. Nunn, I don’t feel good,” Rhonda moaned. Theother girls looked at each other. “I feel like I’m going to-“

Rhonda retched and vomited. The girls grimaced.

Rhonda coughed violently.

At Nancy’s insistence, Millie, the group’s smallestmember, scooted under the stall and unlocked the door. Rhonda was on the toiletin tears, her panties around her ankles. Humiliated. Nancy held her tremblinghand, dabbed her tears with a crumpled tissue, brushed her hair from her eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

“Gross,” Tracey said.

“It’s going to be fine, dear,” Nancy assured Rhonda.“Tracey, please get me some paper towels soaked in cold water and some dryones. Girls, stay by me while we help Rhonda.”

“But Mom, it’s so gross!” Gabrielle complained.

“Stay here, Gabrielle,” Nancy ordered over hershoulder while helping Rhonda pull up her underwear. “Rhonda sweetie, thishappens to every little girl, so don’t you worry.”

Tracy gave Nancy the paper towels. None of the girlsteased Rhonda about her nickname as Nancy cleaned her up. They stood by forsupport, except for Gabrielle. The acrid order overwhelmed her.

Gabrielle did not want to be sick herself. Lured bythe carousel’s organ puffing a new polka, she took it upon herself to waitoutside the washroom. She stood alone, watching the revolving animals, thedreamy horses, the chariots, the rocker, the turning tub. Mom should bepleased. After all, she was a big girl. A smile was blooming on Gabrielle’sface when suddenly a shadow fell over her.