Coffeehouse Angel (19 page)

Malcolm rushed through the automatic doors, holding his satchel. Before I could stop him, he waved the golden envelope. "You've got to take it," he said.

Irmgaard gasped and dropped the pen, her eyes darting madly. A wall, an aquarium, and an angel blocked her escape. She closed her eyes, then opened them. Closed, then opened, as if trying to wish him away.

"I won't disappear this time," Malcolm said. "I mean you no harm, Irmgaard, but you can't refuse to take a message."

"Malcolm, she doesn't want it," I said. "Can't you see you're upsetting her?"

"I don't mean to cause upset." He looked at the envelope. "All messages are important, but it's becoming a real burden to carry this one around."

"Just put it down," I told him. "We can talk about it later. Right now we've got to finish these forms."

He opened his hand. The envelope floated down through the air, ever so slowly, like a feather. When it landed on the glass table, the table shattered. Those sitting nearby leaped from their seats. The receptionist called security.

"You try to carry that around," Malcolm said snippily. "She needs to take it before it gets any heavier."

Then Irmgaard did something that totally surprised me. I'd never seen her get angry before. She believed Malcolm to be an angel, but she glared at him, her eyes blazing.

Holding her neck straight, looking right into his sparkling eyes, she folded her arms and refused to take that envelope.

He threw his hands in the air. "What am I supposed to do? Do you have any idea the kind of trouble I'm in?"

She shook a piece of glass from her shoe, then turned her back to him, continuing to work on the papers. Her defiance was shocking. Wouldn't a nun be afraid of some sort of heavenly wrath?

"Irmgaard, do you want me to read it?" I asked.

"You can't," Malcolm said. "I can't even read it. Only she can." He picked up the envelope and slid it back into his satchel. "You two are the most perplexing women I've ever met." The automatic doors slid open and Malcolm, his kilt swishing with each angry step, stormed off into the night.

T
he rest of Sunday passed in a blur. At 6:00 a.m., the nurse let me peek in to say good-bye to my grandmother, but she was fast asleep. Malcolm didn't come back. I waited for a while in the hospital parking lot, even whispered his name, but he didn't show up. After driving the old Buick home, I fed Ratcatcher, then fell into a stupor, sleeping right through the afternoon. I woke up and made a peanut butter sandwich, called Elizabeth, then fell back into bed, swallowed up by the dreamless sleep of the comatose.

Monday morning felt heavier than usual and not just because Ratcatcher was sleeping on my chest. As I opened my eyes, my new reality descended like a pillow smothering my face. Grandma was in the hospital and sometime that day, I'd have to tell Mr. Darling that we were surrendering.

The shower didn't perk me up like it usually did. I stood there for a long time, watching streams of soap slide down my skinny legs. The dull razor nicked my shin twice, which I took as a sign that I should have stayed in bed. I put on my usual jeans and favorite red sweatshirt, then ate a bowl of Cheerios. I had promised my grandmother that I wouldn't miss school, even though I wasn't prepared for any of my classes. How could I have done homework with all the chaos in my life? Considering the situation, maybe my teachers would give me an extension. At least winter vacation began on Wednesday, which was also the day the health inspector would return. It didn't seem to matter if he found rat turds or not. The doors to Anna's Old World Scandinavian Coffeehouse would close forever.

I brushed my teeth, then stared into the mirror. Was I really going to the Solstice Festival with an angel? How do you wrap your head around something like that?

There are so many stories about girls dating vampires and fairy kings, but those are dark stories, dangerous stories where the simple act of falling in love puts the girl's life at risk. Malcolm didn't seem one bit dangerous. Angels are supposed to be pure and sinless, so it would be a pure and sinless date. I didn't have a problem with that. It was kind of a relief that I wouldn't have to fend off blood-sucking or an enchantment on our first date.

Which would probably be our
only
date.

But was I good enough to go on a date with an angel? Didn't you have to be...perfect?

Sure, my skin was pretty good and my eyelashes were long, even though they were blond and you couldn't see them. If I pulled my hair up I'd look older, but never perfect. One of my bottom teeth was crooked and my lips always got chapped in the winter. And I'm pretty sure that angels didn't have to deal with morning breath. Or sweat. Or a myriad of other human conditions. Malcolm always smelled...perfect.

I'd never really thought about angels before. I'd seen
It's a Wonderful Life,
that movie about the angel who wants to get his wings. And I'd been to church enough times to hear the stories about Gabriel the archangel and Satan the fallen angel. But that's what they were to me, stories. Improbable, fantastic stories.

And yet, even if I convinced myself that the little white wing had been a hallucination, brought on by the blinding hospital lights and the psychological torture of waiting, I couldn't deny all the other stuff.

Without Grandma's radio, an eerie quiet floated through the apartment. Downstairs was worse. Without the hum of the percolators, the coffeehouse felt lifeless. I sat on the bottom step with Ratcatcher. "Don't worry," I told her, scratching between her black ears. "Grandma will be home soon." But where would home be after we had closed? Would we have to leave Nordby and live in some retirement community like Mr. Darling's mother? Retirement Universe wouldn't look too good as a return address on my college applications. I'd end all my application letters with:
Help, get me out of
here.

"Meow."

I poured Ratcatcher some kibble. She sniffed the non-pastry breakfast, then walked away, and that's when it caught my eye. I hadn't turned on the coffeehouse lights so I wasn't sure what I was looking at. A puddle of blue sat on the corner table, sparkling.

As I walked toward it, Ratcatcher leaped onto the table and sniffed the puddle. I reached out expecting liquid but found velvet. The blue fabric slid softly beneath my hand. "It's a dress," I whispered, picking it up. Little pearl buttons dotted the front, just like my grandmother's dress. I held it at arm's length. It couldn't be my grandmother's dress because it was way too long for her, but perfect for me. A little tag in the back read:
Made Exclusively for Katrina.
I held the dress to my face and inhaled the Highlands.

It was the nicest gift ever.

The school bus passed by. I quickly hung the dress in my room, zipped up my parka, and grabbed my backpack. But just as I was about to leave, someone knocked on the front door. A group of Japanese tourists stood outside, pressing their faces against the window.

"Yes? May I help you?" I asked, opening the door.

One of the tourists shook my hand. "Ratcatcher? Ratcatcher live here?"

"Ratcatcher!" another cried, pointing. She sat on the corner table, cleaning one of her paws, oblivious to her fans.

"Um, we're closed," I said.

They pushed their way in. "We take picture with famous cat?"

"I'm sorry," I said, "but we're closed. I've got to get to school."

"We take picture." And they started taking pictures, posing with Ratcatcher, smiling and laughing, totally thrilled by the moment. One of them held up a little rubber rat, but Ratcatcher ignored it. I let them do their thing for a few minutes. How often does a person get to meet the most famous cat in the world?

"I have to go," I told them, pointing at the clock. They nodded and filed out. One of them handed me a twenty-dollar bill, then bowed. I tried to give it back, but he just kept bowing. "Money for the photos. Thank you."

Storm clouds rolled across the sky. There wasn't time to walk, so I jumped into the Buick, which took forever to warm up. Up the hill I drove. The road was still wet from last night's rain. Sometime during the weekend, the old Java Heaven billboard had been replaced by a spanking new Java Heaven billboard, this one shaped like a big coffee cup that had Vincent's face on it.

Coffee and a Hometown Hero, a Match Made in Heaven-- Java Heaven.

What did it matter anymore? Mr. Darling had won. He was supreme. He had taken our business and my best friend. He should get an award or something.

On my way to Monday assembly, lots of students asked me about Ratcatcher--kids I'd never spoken to before, which narrows it down to just about everyone. A few of them wanted her autograph--a paw print, I guessed. They wanted to take a picture with her to put on their blogs. She was still all the rage on the Internet. I said I'd get back to them. I told them I'd set up a time when they could come down to see her. Maybe not.

We'd probably be Florida-bound by then.

Elizabeth sat in the usual spot on the bleachers, her shoulders hunched, an orange hat pulled over her eyebrows. "How's Anna?"

I squeezed in next to her, setting my backpack between my feet. "I'm going to call her at break. She's supposed to have more tests this morning. Why are you sitting like that?"

"I don't want him to see me."

"Face?"

"He didn't call. He had all weekend to call and he didn't. I hate him." She pulled the hat lower.

"You should just ask someone else."

"Why? So I can get rejected by another loser? Forget it." She laid her head on my shoulder. "I'll help you at the coffeehouse, like I did last year. I don't need to go to the stupid festival."

"The coffeehouse won't be open for the festival. Mr. Darling is going to give us some money to close the business. Then he'll expand Java Heaven."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Well, then we can go to Solstice together."

"Um, there's something you should know." I couldn't believe I was about to say what I was about to say. "I kind of have a date."

Elizabeth sat up straight, as if someone had pinched her. "What? Who with?"

I lowered my voice. I didn't want any more gossip crawling around school. "With Malcolm."

"No way." She ripped off her hat. Her hair sparked with static.

I pressed closer to her. "He has wings on his ankles."

"Oh. My. God."

We huddled. "All sorts of weird things have happened since he showed up, things I haven't even told you about. It's not just that Vincent got fortune and Ratcatcher got fame, but when Lars wanted some dignity he got it and when a lady at the bus stop wanted coffee, she got that. And Irmgaard got some kind of message, but she won't open it and I can't even lift it because it weighs a ton and it's just a piece of paper. And Grandma wanted me to get a new dress and there it was, sitting in the kitchen this morning."

"But what about you?" Elizabeth whispered. "You're supposed to get what you most desire. Remember?"

"He won't give me another bean. Not yet. He said he needs to make sure I ask for what I truly desire or he'll get into trouble. Demoted or something."

"Hey, Coffeehouse Girl," Aaron said, sticking his fat head between us. "Heard you've been serving rat crap."

"Shut up, Aaron." Elizabeth jabbed him with her elbow. Then she leaned over to tie her red high-tops. I leaned with her. "I knew he was an angel the minute I saw him.

He's way too handsome to be human. Do you think he'd let me paint him? What are you going to wish for?"

From the center of the gym, Principal Carmichael made some announcements about stuff that wasn't important. When you're contemplating your chance to make a wish that might actually come true, things like locker inspections and parking permits seem totally trivial. Elliott rushed out and dealt with the shrieking microphone. Then, as usual, Heidi Darling had something to say. She quieted everyone with a staccato clearing of her throat. "Okay, so those of you who volunteered to help with the festival decorations, the theme this year is Snowflake Serenade. We have lots of snowflakes to make, so meet Vincent and me at Java Heaven this afternoon at four thirty."

My stomach lurched. His treachery was complete.

V
incent Hawk, best friend since the fourth grade, might as well have stuck a knife into my heart. Not only was he going to step foot inside Java Heaven that very afternoon at four thirty, he was going to hang out there and do crafts. So what if we were going to close our coffeehouse? He didn't know that. So what if Java Heaven wasn't going to be our competitor anymore? I'd still hate that place and I'd still expect my friends not to be one of its customers. That's not a lot to ask. It's not like you can't buy coffee
everywhere
these days.

"Tell your parents and friends to buy Vincent Mochas, because ten percent goes back to the Nordby swim team," Heidi said, still standing at the microphone. Then she punched the air.
"Gooooooo,
Nordby Otters!"

He broke his promise because of her. So what if she was cute and could swim? How could he stand all that perkiness? How could everything have changed so much in one short week? If I wished for it all to go away, would everything go back to normal?

Maybe that's what I most desired.

Heidi bounded back to the bleachers and sat next to Vincent. She was about to plant a kiss on his cheek, but he stopped her and said something. She frowned and said something back. He turned away. What have we here? Trouble in paradise? I savored the moment.

While I avoided Vincent on the way out of the gym, Elizabeth avoided Face. I took a moment to call my grandmother. "You should see all the flowers. It looks like someone died," she said, her words a bit slurred. She was probably on pain medication. "Vincent and his father sent a lovely bouquet. The Boys came in. I haven't seen Irmgaard, though. Poor thing. She's probably upset about having to find another job."

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Don't worry about me. Did you talk to Mr. Darling yet?"