The Angel

The Angel

He was standing at the side of the road outside Uxbridge when I first saw him. Dressed in a silver suit, he had no briefcase or similar luggage, just a thumb held upright and motionless as he requested a lift.

Remembering what Ralph had always said about guys in silver suits, I slowed the car and stopped just a few yards beyond him. He walked unhurriedly to the passenger window and bent down to look at me.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“The Midlands would be good,” he replied.

“Hop in, mate,” I said as I reached over to open the door. He lowered himself into the seat and I eased the car back into the traffic. Once back up to speed, I told him that I was actually heading for Coventry.

“That’ll be fine,” he said, as though it made little difference to him.

I’m no great conversationalist, but thought I’d better make an effort to find something to talk about. “That’s a very natty suit,” I said.

“Standard issue where I come from,” he replied. “Surely Ralph mentioned that?”

That caught me by surprise. He couldn’t possibly mean the Ralph that had leapt into my head when I first saw the silver suit, but what could he be getting at then? Was he talking about some celebrity that I had never heard of, some sort of reference to a catchphrase that I was supposed to understand?

“Not sure I know what you mean,” I told him.

He laughed briefly. “Oh, come on, Dave, how many guys named Ralph are there with theories about angels in silver suits?”

Okay, I admit that scared me. It was bad enough him knowing about Ralph and his sayings, but how could he have learned my name? This had to be a practical joke of some kind.

“Did Ralph put you up to this?” I asked. It was the kind of thing that Ralph would have laughed himself silly over, after all.

“Angels do as angels will,” he said. “Entirely my idea, I assure you. Although you’re not exactly my mission, if you catch my drift. Just a little detour until the next one’s ready for my intervention.”

So now it was out there in the open, flatly stated, and I had to make up my mind whether to take him at his word or not. Understand, it’s not as if I don’t believe in angels but they’re not something I’ve thought about a great deal. And I’d certainly never met one before.

Unless Ralph was right about them not being all that obvious.

“Okay,” I said, “for the record, I’m not accepting that you’re an angel but I’ll take it as read for the moment. Just one last question, if that’s okay. How d’you manage to hide the wings under that silver suit?”

“Don’t have wings,” he replied. “They’re a sort of metaphor applied by those struggling to understand. Think of it like this - why would a spiritual being need something physical in order to move around? All a bit superfluous, really. But it enables people to get beyond the question of how we float around in the air. Doesn’t really matter, does it?”

Which made a lot of sense. But it didn’t help me with making conversation. In a moment of inspiration, I thought of the radio and reached to turn it on. Then I realised that there was already a distant, faint music in the atmosphere of that confined cabin. Something a bit like harp music. I shut up and drove until we were passing through Banbury. Something occurred to me then.

“You said you had a mission, didn’t you? What’s that all about?”

“Can’t talk about other people’s concerns, I’m afraid,” he replied. “But we could chat about general things, if you like. Or even yourself.”

“Hah, slim pickings there,” I said, and went quiet again.

It was as we approached Coventry that I asked where exactly he’d like to be dropped off. I explained that I normally went straight into the centre of the city before heading out the other side, but I could stay on this road as it bent around the outskirts all the way to the Birmingham road. Any of the intersections would do for me.

“I know,” he responded. “But I was hoping you might take me just a little farther on, to Meriden, for instance.”

That was only a few miles out of my way. “No problem,” I said. We continued to the little village.

I brought the car to a halt by Meriden’s ancient village cross. “Supposed to be the centre of England,” I said. “That cross is calculated to be the exact heart.” And then it struck me. “Ooh, I bet that has something to do with your mission.”

He grinned. “Might be. But can’t say. I have to play by the rules, you see.” He leaned forward and opened his door. “Well, thanks for the lift and all that. You’ve made the journey much more interesting than a straightforward transmigration.”

“It’s been fun,” I replied. “Although it would have been nice if you’d had some sort of message or revelation for me.”

He paused in the act of leaving the car and looked back over his shoulder. “Sorry about that but I did warn you. What I can tell you is this: when you see Ralph, mention me and say that nothing happens without a reason. He’ll understand.”

That brought a flood of thoughts to mind and I was barely aware of him getting out of the car. When I looked, intending to say a last goodbye, he was nowhere to be seen. The music had gone too.


Word count: 949
For The Writer’s Cramp, 09.02.23
Prompt: The Angel.