Angel - Part 1


Angel

By Connie Alexander

Part 1

Chapter 1

I was sitting on my suitcases trying to decide what was pissing me off more; being sent out to the middle of nowhere to live with a father who I don’t even remember or having said father forget to pick me up. Now to give him the benefit of the doubt, which I really don’t want to do, but let’s say I do; it is entirely possible that he is here.

I wouldn’t know him if he was standing right in front of me. Thinking that, I glance up, looking at the man standing at the curb. Hmmm, probably not, this guy is about fifty something and black. My father should be in his early forties and not black, not Asian either. Beyond that, I haven’t much of a clue except he’s supposed to be tall, slim and have dark hair. He’s also supposed to have a recent picture of me. If not, there’s no way he’ll spot me, even if he remembers that I no longer look like a boy. This already long crappy day is getting worse.

My name is Angel MacGarry. MacGarry was my Mom’s maiden name and Angel is the name Mom gave me when she realized that my wanting to be a girl wasn’t just a phase. That was seven years ago.

I can’t remember what the final thing was that convinced my Mom. We had been going on and on about my acting like a girl and saying that I WAS a girl since I was about five. I’d try to stop feeling like a girl and I’d try to act like a boy but it never worked out, at least for long, then I’d get all upset and then Mom would get all upset. This kept going on and on until finally one day, shortly after I turned nine, we went around about this again. Like I said, I don’t remember the details but the end result was Mom looking at me and this time finally seeing me. She finally saw me as a girl.

I may not remember the details of the argument we were having but I do remember every detail of the revelation. We were both reduced to tears of frustration; me by insisting that I really was a girl and Mom by trying to convenience me that I wasn’t. Well we both were crying and Mom was looking at me. As she looked I saw the moment she realized the truth. Her eyes got wider, her mouth formed an ‘O’ and she brought her hand up to her face. She then reached out and gently touched my cheek. Her next words I’ll never forget, “Oh my angel, why didn’t I see it before. I’m so sorry baby.” She then gathered me in her arms and we cried and laughed and ever since that day, I’ve been ‘Angel’. The rest, as they say is history.

Ever since that moment I’ve lived as a girl. Mom found some really great doctors to help me too. One worked with us to help me get my body on the right track to look female and the other worked with us to help us on the mind and emotional end of things. The end result is today I look and act just like any other teenage girl. In one more year I’m going to have my operation to finally correct my little birth defect, but even if that never happens, and believe me it will, but even if it doesn’t, legally I am a girl. It says so now on my birth certificate. That was Mom’s big present to me this year. Her final gift to me was to legally make me her daughter.

Oh gods, just remembering is making me cry again. I hate crying. Three weeks, two days and glancing at my watch, seventeen hours ago, my Mom became my angel. Last year she found out that she got the big ‘C’ and we fought it. Oh boy did we fight it too. We saw the best of the best when it came to doctors and we tried every treatment there was to try and beat it. But sometimes it doesn’t matter how good the person is, or how hard you fight, you still end up losing. An hour and fifteen minutes after Mom gave me the present of my new birth certificate, she died. She died and my faith in god and all the good things in life died with her.

So a bit over three weeks later I find myself sitting on one of my suitcases at the curb of a small airport, waiting for a father who I haven’t heard one word from since he left us when I was three to pick me up. My nose is all stuffy and my mascara is running and I just want to go home, a home that no longer exists.

“Jason Hawkins, Jason Hawkins, please meet your party at Passenger Drop off, Jason Hawkins, please meet your party at the Passenger Drop Off area at the main terminal entrance.”

I’m not sure how many times I listened to that announcement before it finally dawned on me that I was born ‘Jason Hawkins’ sixteen years ago. I had all but forgotten that name. Apparently father dear “forgot” that it isn’t my name anymore and it hasn’t been for a very long time. Bastard. I can see that this is going to be a real fun time.

I get up and grab my two suitcases, my backpack, purse and my guitar case and go back inside the airport. First to the ladies room to repair my face, I will not give him the satisfaction of seeing that I was crying, and two, to make my way up from ‘Passenger Pickup’ to the ‘Passenger Drop Off’ area. Oh dopey me for thinking that I should be at the pick-up area like was agreed upon.

After making sure my face is on ok, I make my way up the escalators and out the main doors. Looking around, there is no sign of any tall dark slender men, especially one that looks like he’s trying to find someone. Great, just freaking great. With my luck he’s probably already gone, although admittedly that could be a mixed blessing. I suspect he’s about as happy about me being here as I am which is not at all.

Grabbing my bags, I decide to give it one more try. I drag my stuff on over to a police officer who is currently trying to get some lady with a pickup truck to move. Hopefully he can help me find out who paged me.

“Lady, I’ve already let you stay here too long as it is. You’re going to have to move now.” he was telling her.

“Excuse me officer,” I interrupt, “but could you help me please?”

The policeman turns to me, the lady looks relieved for the bit of reprieve I’ve given her and he says, “Sure kid, what do you need?”

“I need to find out who’s been paging Jason Hawkins.”

“You his sister?”

“Something like that.”

“This is your lucky day.” Turning to the lady he says “You got five more minutes before I ticket you and have your truck towed.” He then walks off.

What the hell?

I’m standing there watching the policeman’s retreating back trying to figure out his cryptic comment when someone clears their throat right behind me.

Turning, there’s that lady. Wow, she’s a tall one. Of course everyone is tall to me. If I think really tall thoughts I’m almost, maybe 5’2”, ok only 5’1” and only if I cheat. This gal is six foot easily.

“Sorry, did I hear you correctly, were you asking about Jason Hawkins?”

“Um, yea.”

“Oh thank goodness, I thought I’d screwed this up proper. You’re Bill’s kid? Um, Jason?”

“Yes and no. Yes, Bill Hawkins fathered me, no my name isn’t Jason, not anymore, its Angel. Who are you?”

“Praise be I lucked out again. Oh, um, Angel, I’m your Aunt Carol, Bills’ sister. Wow, you really look like a girl.”

“Wow, Aunt Carol, so do you!” I hate when people say that. “Now what? If we wait around much longer, that cop is going to come back.”

I could tell my response surprised her. This is the first I’ve ever heard of having an aunt. Of course, Mom never talked about father and his side of the family, I mean ever. Anyway, I had no intention of getting too lovey dovey with the people who’ve ignored me for sixteen years. As soon as I graduate high school I’m out of here.

“Well, let’s just toss your stuff in the back here and we’ll head on out.” With that, she grabs the bags that I’ve been struggling with and tosses them both in the back of the truck like they were two feathers. Keeping hold of my guitar, I go to open truck door but am struggling to get it unlatched.

“Here hon, let me. Ever since your daddy sideswiped the gate post, it takes a bit of persuasion to get ‘er open.” With that she gives the door a viscous kick then a hard yank on the handle. Then the door opens with a loud creak.

Lovely. Putting my guitar case on the floor of the back I literally have to climb up and onto the seat. I put my pack and purse on the floor beneath me.

“Make sure you’re all tucked in darlin', got to slam it to get it to stay.” With that she slams the door making the whole truck rock.

Looking around, the inside is covered in dust, there are what look like Indian blankets covering the seats, there’s a gun rack with rifle in the back and a straw cowboy hat resting on the dash. I suppose technically it’s a cowgirl hat as Carol jams it on her head as soon as she climbs in.

With a big white smile she says, “buckle up darlin’ and relax. We’ll be home in a few hours.”

Hours? Oh joy, oh rapture. If that gun in the back is loaded, I wonder if Carol would let me use it to put myself out of my misery. Probably not.

As Carol concentrates on getting out of the airport and onto the highway, I take the opportunity to give her a closer look.

The first thing I notice is she looks young. She looks like she’s closer to my age than someone father’s age and if father is anything like her I can be sure that I take after Mom’s side of the family. Well, except the nose. Mom had this little button nose that I always wanted too. Instead I’ve got this nose that Mom always said has character. If that meant big, she was right. Now I see where I got it from. Carol and I have the same nose, only on her it looks good, on me it just looks big.

As I mentioned, she is a very tall woman and the heels of her cowboy boots just help add to that impression. For all of her height she looks slim. Not skinny, nope, this is someone who screams ‘I am a woman’ and has the curves to prove it. She’s got very long legs in snug well worn jeans, a narrow waist and an impressive bosom wrapped in a flannel shirt with no sleeves. On top of all of that, she has long straight black hair, dark eyes that you can tell are use to laughing and facial features that well, I suspect make most women if not hate, at least envious of her. I include myself in that list, she’s gorgeous.

We get out on the highway and are heading south. I’m looking at the mountains on my right. I’ve never seen mountains so big before. Who am I kidding; I’ve never seen mountains before. All this blue sky and wide open spaces is beginning to freak me out a bit.

“Bet this is sure different from what you’re used to isn’t it?”

Looking at Carol, she’s smiling at me. I say, “I’ve spent all my life in New York City. The wilderness there is bordered between Fifth Avenue and Central Park West one way, and West 110th Street and East 59th Street the other way. Central Park is big and impressive and can get pretty wild, but it’s nothing like this. I never realized the sky could be so blue.”

“Yea, it’s going to be a purty day. Well you’ll get used to it here in no time. I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for getting things all messed up back there. Your daddy is in the middle of a difficult foaling and couldn’t get away so he asked me to come fetch you. It wasn’t ‘till I was almost at the airport that I realized that I forgot to get the picture you sent and then I couldn’t for the life of me remember your new name. I tend to be a bit scattered brained sometimes.”

“Oh it’s ok. I thought he might have forgotten or something.”

“Oh darlin’ no, he’s been really lookin’ forward to meeting you.”

“Ma’am, it’s ok, you don’t have to say that. I suspect he really isn’t all that eager to see me. We’ll get through this year in no time, and then I’ll be out of your hair for good.”

She got a kind of worried look on her face and was holding her lower lip between her teeth.

“I know all of this landed on you guys all of a sudden and I’m sure it’s a huge imposition. You don’t have to worry; you’ll hardly know I’m there. I won’t be a bother.”

“Darlin’ really, when I found out you were commin’ I was really pleased. Your daddy was too. I hope you’ll like it here. Oh, and please call me Carol. I’d really like us to be friends.”

Not really knowing what to say to that, I decided to change the subject. “Um Carol, if you don’t mind me asking, just how old are you?”

“Me? I’m twenty-eight. Daddy, your granddaddy, and Momma got hitched late but wanted a girl. Now Momma was Daddy’s third wife and Daddy couldn’t have any more kids so they adopted me, so I reckon that just makes me kind of your half-aunt by marriage, but I guess I’m also your cousin, like third or fourth removed, ‘caus my birth folks were Daddy’s second or third cousins. They died when I was five and that’s when Daddy and Momma took me in. It gets a bit complicated but we’re all family, so actual relations don’t really matter. Family is family.

I sure was sorry to hear about your momma, that’s mighty sad. I remember when Bill brought her home that one time. They had just run off and got married and he was showing her off to the family. She was just the prettiest little thing and I hate to admit it but I was so jealous of her. Now keep in mind, I was what? Let’s see, I was twelve years old and your daddy was eighteen and I thought he hung the moon, he was just so big and handsome. Anyway, here he comes home with the prettiest little thing you ever did see. I see a lot of her in you. You’re smaller, lordy you’re a tiny thing, but you’re even prettier than your momma was.”

Wanting to once again change the subject I ask, “Carol, since it’s going to be a couple of hours until we reach your place, do you think we could stop somewhere so I can get something to eat? I haven’t eaten in awhile.”

“Oh darlin’ I’m so sorry. I should of thought of that. If you can hold on just a bit, there’s a nice little diner up here that we can get an early lunch at.”

“That will be fine thanks.”

“Sure ‘nuff darlin’.” And she gives me one of those hundred watt smiles of hers.

Carol is nice, too nice really. I can see that it’s going to be hard keeping my detachment around her. I don’t want to get to know these people; I especially don’t want to start liking them. These people never wanted to have anything to do with me and Mom and quite frankly at this point I didn’t really want to have anything to do with them. Unfortunately I couldn’t convince anyone back home that I could take care of myself and they ended up insisting that I go live with father.

Chapter 2

About ten minutes later we pull off the highway to what looks like some derelict building but is obviously popular based upon all of the cars and trucks in the gravel lot. There is a beat-up sign over the door that says ‘Pete’s Diner’.

We pull up in a cloud of dust and instead of fighting the door, I tell Carol that I’ll just slide across and go out her door.

Feeling proud that I didn’t break something jumping down from the truck, we go inside the diner. We pause just inside the door to let our eyes adjust then make our way over to a booth.

A harried looking waitress shows up just after we get settled and hands us a couple of menus and lays down our silverware.

“Howdy ladies, get you something to drink?”

Carol says, “Coffee with cream for me.”

Figuring that they probably don’t have a mocha latte, I say, “Iced tea, no lemon please.”

“Fine, I’ll be right back to take your order.” With that she's off again.

Looking through the menu I don’t see much that is too appealing so I decide that I’ll just stick with the chef salad.

Just as Carol closes up her menu, the waitress reappears with our drinks, mine with lemon and a bunch of seeds at the bottom of the glass. Oh well.

“Ok ladies, what’ll it be?”

Carol says, “I’ll have the chicken burrito, smothered green with a side of sour cream.”

“Um, I’ll just have the chef salad.” I say.

“All righty, it’ll be right out.” And off she goes again.

I just look out the window and I can see Carol out of the corner of my eye. She’s acting like she wants to say something but isn’t sure about how to go about it.

“Um, Angel hon?”

I turn my head and raise my eyebrow.

“Um, I want to apologize, you know for earlier.”

“For what?” I know I’m not making this easy for her but damn it, I don’t want to get close to these people.

“You know, that whole ‘gee you look like a girl’ comment. I didn’t mean nothing by it. I was just surprised is all. I’m not sure what I was expecting but a pretty little thing like you sure wasn’t it. Well, I just wanted to say I was sorry. Like I said, I do want us to be friends. Ok?”

“I accept your apology Carol; I guess I’m a little sensitive about that. Thank you.”

I turn back to looking out the window and I hear Carol sigh.

A few minutes later our lunches arrive. Carol’s lunch is this massive burrito with cheese and a green sauce bubbling all over it. It actually smells kind of good, but I could live off of that for about a week it’s so big.

This is obviously not the place to get a chef’s salad. My salad consists of a wedge of iceberg lettuce, a slice of tomato, half of a hard-boiled egg and some cheddar cheese grated over it. Oh well, it’ll fill the hole in my stomach.

We eat in comparable silence. I’m finished before she is, but not by much. I’m stunned, I can’t believe she at that whole thing.

While we’re waiting for the check, I dig through my purse trying to find some Tylenol. Fortunately I do and I wash down three of them with the last of my tea. My head feels like it’s absolutely going to explode.

Part of the problem I think is it’s so damn bright here and I don’t have any sunglasses. Couple that with the stress of traveling and well, stress in general and I’m not surprised that I have a headache.

The waitress comes and Carol grabs the check. “My treat darlin’.”

“Thanks. Um, I’m going to run next door and get a pair of sunglasses. Meet you at the truck?”

“Sure thing.”

I grab my purse and get up. I noticed a little convenience store next to the diner and I think I noticed sunglasses through the window.

I make my way on out. I figure I’ll have a bit of time as there was quite a line at the register.

I gratefully duck back into the shade of the convenience store. It’s also quite a bit cooler in here too. I go on over to the sunglass rack and find a nice dark pair. They’re pretty cheap but what do you expect for ten bucks? I decide to get two just in case and with them and cold bottle of water; I go back out to the truck.

Carol isn’t there yet and it’s hot waiting by the truck. I’m definitely going to have to get out of my top and maybe my pants too. They’re a sport outfit and it’s real comfortable to fly in but this heat is building fast and they’re getting progressively more uncomfortable to be in.

Carol soon shows up and unlocks the truck. I climb up her side and on across. Once settled, I take the jacket off and after thinking about it for a second; I pull off the pants as well. Underneath I’m wearing matching cami workout top and black shorts. Much better.

“That’s a cute little outfit there but girl you need to get you some sun. You’re white as can be.”

I give her a small smile and say, “Listen, I’m bushed from the travel and I have a splitting headache, do you mind if I just close my eyes a bit?”

“Not at all. In fact, why don’t you just lie on down on the bench here. You could use your jacket for a pillow.”

That sounds like a great idea so I make a pillow out of my jacket and pants, loosen up my seatbelt and lay on down. Before I know it, I’m fast asleep.

Chapter 3

I wake up when we leave the highway. I’m really not fully awake at this point, just in that half-dream state before fully waking up. I feel nice. There’s some soft music playing, it’s country western music which is odd since I never listen to it. There’s a soft feminine voice singing quietly along and someone is gently stroking my hair. I hug the leg my head is resting on a bit. I feel nice and safe as I drift back asleep.

A particularly strong jolt wakes me as the truck hits a pothole. Fully awake this time, I realize that I had stretched out quite a bit more than I intended and that my head is resting on Carol’s lap. Startled and a bit embarrassed, I quickly sit up.

“Well, look who decided to rejoin the world. Hey darlin’ sleep well?”

“Um yes, yes I did. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t you worry about that. It looked like you needed it. We’ll be at the house here real soon.”

Still feeling embarrassed, I rub the sleep from my eyes and take a drink of now tepid water. Looking about I see we're now in up in the mountains.

We pull onto a barely grated road and we bounce along the rutted lane for quite awhile until we top a rise. Carol stops the truck and when the cloud of dust settles around us, I see we're looking down into a beautiful valley.

"Well darlin', just a few more minutes and we'll be home."

"Nice view. Where's your place?"

"All around us, we've been driving on it for the last fifteen minutes."

Stunned, I say "the last fifteen minutes? Just how big is this place?"

"Oh all told about fifteen-hundred acres. Now keep in mind there's a fair chunk of that that is up and down as opposed to side to side and only good for the mountain goats and bighorn sheep. But it's still a respectable bit of land."

Fifteen-hundred acres? I couldn't get my head around that size; I just had no point of reference.

Carol starts back up and conversation is stopped as we bounce along the road. The tires and the kicked up rock and dirt make conversation all but impossible.

There are several times that my seatbelt saves me from smacking my head on the roof of the truck as we bounce along.

I no longer am paying much attention to the view as I hold on for dear life. On Carol's side there's mountain, on my side is what looks to be a sheer drop and Carol is going much too fast for my comfort.

Eventually we reach the valley and cross a small bridge and the road is much better. I have to consciously loosen my grip on the armrest though.

About ten minutes later I begin to see the ranch buildings. This place is a lot bigger than I thought. There are several buildings that look like barns and on the bluff overlooking everything is a sprawling ranch style house.

Out in the pastures I see horses and cows. Around the buildings several people working at various tasks.

As Carol approaches some look up and immediately start waving at us. Carol honks the horn and waves back as we speed by and up the road to the main house.

We pull up under the shade of a huge tree and stop.

"Well darlin' here we are. Home sweet home and we made it here all in one piece."

She opens her door and I shakily crawl across and hop down.

I'm looking at the impressive house. It has a deep shaded porch and much of it is built out of what look like whole trees. A real log cabin but an impressive one. It looks like there are a ton of rooms in this place.

"Oh no! Dang nab it no!"

Turning around to see what Carol is all upset about, I can't figure it out at first. Then I see it. One of my suitcases had popped open and my stuff is all over the back of the truck. Looking back the way we just came I see articles of my clothing leading back up the road and disappearing in the distance.

"No!"

I run to the back of the truck and take the blouse Carol is holding. Then seeing a slip about ten feet away I run to that and pick it up out of the dirt.

"Damn it. Would you look at this?"

I'm practically in tears as I go over to the next article of clothing and pick it up.

Carol is saying she's sorry and swearing under her breath but I'm just too upset to pay attention to her.

A minute later a small very stocky Hispanic man comes jogging up and hands me an armload of clothes.

"Seá±orita, aquá­ tienes."

"Thank you." I say absently, and then I break down and start crying. This has all just been too much and this is the last straw.

Someone is soon next to me and has their arm around me leading me up to the house. I don't even know who it is as I bury my face in my torn, dirty clothes and cry.

Chapter 4

The sound of a door softly closing wakes me up. At first I'm disoriented, not knowing where I am or how I got here. Then I remember and the thought of all my clothes lost and scattered along the highway starts me crying again.

I try to get myself under control as I hear Carol's voice outside the door.

"Selma and Fernando have everything under control, let them handle it. You need to get something to eat, you need some rest and most of all you need to meet your daughter."

I can't make out the response from, I assume my father, but it's not hard to figure out from Carol's angry reply.

"She is yours you fool and she looks more like a girl than many born that way."

". . . . . "

"You haven't seen her. If that's a boy, I'm Chief Ouray. At least come take a look at her, she's purtier than a mornin' dove.”

". . . . ."

"That's not fair and that's not the reason. Damn it Bill, you stubborn assed mule. That little thing in there has been through hell and I'll be damn if I'll . . . ."

I couldn't make out the rest as they move away.

So father dear doesn't want me here. That's not a big surprise. I wonder why he said yes then. It can't be for money. Given how big this place is it doesn't look like he needs it and besides, Mom wasn't all that rich and most of what she had was put into a trust fund for me. He could have refused. Had he done that, I'd have just stayed in the group home for the next year or so.

Oh I feel so alone. Mom, why did you leave me? I don't know how I'm going to make it here. They told me that this is what you wanted but I can't believe that. Why mom, why?

Once I get my crying back under control I realize that I'm starving. I really need to get something to eat. After that, well we'll see. First food, no strike that. First the bathroom then food.

The room is fairly dark but there is enough light coming from under the door to see that there is a bedside lamp. Turning it on I find that I'm in a rather large bedroom on a big four-poster bed. There's a dresser, makeup vanity with mirror, and a couple of chairs on either side of a fireplace. Everything is very western, which I guess shouldn't be too much of a surprise. The room has a distinct feminine feel to it though and I wonder whose it is.

Tossing back the blanket someone put over me; I swing my legs over the side of the bed and hop down. There are plenty of beautiful thick rugs all across the tile floor and heading to an open door; I hope to find the bathroom.

I do and turning on the light I see it's a rather nice one too. I quickly take care of business then looking in the mirror I can't believe how I look. I have a perfect face for Halloween. My eyes are red and puffy, my makeup is almost completely gone and what little remains makes me look like an extra in a zombie movie.

I wash my face and look and feel much better. Looking around though I don't see any towels. Wonderful.

Back in the bedroom the corner of the bed sheet takes over for a towel. With that done I look around for my shoes. Spotting them next to one of the chairs I go over and quickly put them on. The need for food is getting stronger as my stomach is now on continual growl mode.

Squaring my shoulders and steeling myself for a confrontation with father dear, I promise myself to not cry, not to give him the satisfaction of seeing me upset. If at all possible I'll ignore him.

Carol, I'll deal with her. She doesn't seem to have a problem with me and even said she'd like to be friends. While I don't know if I can dare be friends with anyone here, she does seem nice and I'll at least need someone to occasionally talk to.

Reaching out, I open the door and step into a hallway.

Image credit: 'Doves' by Marta Dahlig



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