An Absence Of Angels

* Today's post courtesy of Petercat * 

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It had rained earlier that evening, and as the heavy car glided down the interstate, he could not shake his black depression.  He wasn't certain that he even wanted to, he had grown accustomed to the mood. The overcast night was the perfect setting, the staccato hissing of the tires on the rain-wet roadway the perfect white noise to accompany his thoughts.

As the headlights powered through the layered fog, his thoughts turned to the events of recent months.

For two years, it had been the perfect job. It hadn't been long after he had signed on that he realized that it was a Christian company, and the owner was a Christian man. Nobody ever said anything, it was obvious in the way that everyone from the owner down to the janitor treated each other. Everyone in the office was a professional. There had been none of the competition or backstabbing that he had encountered in other offices, no inflated egos, no conflict. Everyone had their own skills, their own weaknesses, and they worked well together to get the job done.

He should have known it wouldn't last, but he couldn't have known that it would get so bad so fast.

A couple of months before, his company had hired a new office manager, a religious zealot of the worst kind. The first indication of trouble was in the new man's first memo, in which he introduced himself, his religious dogma, and ended with a scripture quote. None of which had anything to do with business. The driver's immediate response upon reading it was to say "We are SO screwed!"

He hadn't realized that he had spoken aloud until one of his co-workers, standing next to him, laughed and said, "So you've worked for Christian fanatics before, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. Never by choice, and never for long. The most unforgiving, self-righteous perfectionists (except where it comes to their own performance) around. This place has just fallen into the toilet!"

The first office meeting with the New Guy proved his concerns.  He opened with prayer, and then began an hour-long monologue consisting of religious instruction, threats and very little business.

The office damage was great. Gone was the camaraderie, the cooperation. Everyone was more intent on covering their tracks than in getting things done. No one could escape the feeling that the New Guy was watching every move, waiting for someone to make a mistake so that he could pounce in righteous outrage.

Nothing like working under someone who thought it was perfectly okay to toss scripture out of one side of his mouth, insults and abuse out of the other.

Ah, well, soon it would be time to move on. He knew he was too good at what he did to work for a man like that for long.

His thoughts returned to the fog-shrouded highway. Approaching an exit where there was a truckstop, he remembered that he had failed to check the car before starting on his trip, as was his habit. The Cadillac had very few miles on it, and didn't use any fluids, but still... He decided to pull off at the next exit to be sure.

He guided the car onto the ramp, letting the engine drag slow it until he pulled off onto the shoulder. If the Caddy needed anything, he would pull into the truckstop there. If not, he would cross the road and reenter the highway. At least it wasn't raining anymore, just the overcast hiding the moon. A perfect night for his mood.

He heard the other car pulling onto the shoulder behind his before he saw the headlights. Glancing up as he shut the hood, he saw that one of them was badly aimed and knew it wasn't a cop, so it was probably trouble of some kind. Before he stepped out where the other driver could see him clearly, he reached inside his jacket and unsnapped the restraining strap on the .45 in the holster on his belt. As the headlights went out, the door opened and by the dome light inside he could see two women. The driver got out and walked towards him.

"Excuse me, sir. Can you help us?"

Oh yeah, here it comes. First the sob story, then the request for money.

"We're trying to get to Atlanta, and we're broke and on empty. Could you put a little gas in our car?"

He felt that she was real... He could recognize fear, and she was afraid. Afraid that he would turn her down, and she would have to ask another. And another, and another, until she found someone who would help her. But what price would be demanded for that help, besides her pride? She wasn't, after all, too unattractive.

"All right," he replied, "Follow me to that truckstop." He motioned with his hand. "I'll buy you enough to get there."

Sliding behind the wheel, deep in thought, he eased the caddy onto the ramp and turned at the top towards the truckstop.  They were far from Atlanta. She pulled up to the pump behind him, and as he slid his Visa card through the scanner to turn the pump on, he glanced at the tag on her car. Fulton county, so she hadn't been lying.

He filled her tank, more to make sure that it had really been on empty than out of generosity. She explained that they had been worried, not for themselves, but for her infant son in the back seat. He asked her if they needed anything else, and she said that she needed diapers, then half-laughed as she added that she probably wouldn't find any in a truckstop. He smiled and responded, "You'd be surprised. They sell a little of everything in there. Go look while I finish up here." He'd noticed the ashtray when he'd looked inside the car, and asked "Do you need anything else? Food, drinks, cigarettes?"

The last thing she had said to him was to thank him, telling him how she and her sister had prayed for God to send them an angel to help. He had laughed at that, replying that apparently all of God's angels were busy, so she'd gotten him instead.

As he powered the heavy car down the ramp, gliding back onto the wet interstate, he spoke mockingly. "Thanks a lot, God. Now I'm out fifty dollars because you couldn't be bothered." He eased off the throttle as the Caddy reached his preferred cruising speed and continued, "So what's up? They prayed for you to send an angel to help, and you let them down. Were all your angels too busy? Were those ladies unworthy because they smoked? Are you really as cold and unforgiving as our new office manager seems to think?"

He was silent for a moment, listening to the road noises as the car floated down the highway. "C'mon, God, why did I have to do it?  I've seen the movies, I've watched the TV shows, why didn't you send an angel to help them?"

As he eased back into the seat, a voice, polished with humor, spoke in his ear:

"I did."

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