“Hell.”
In some sort of surrender, she said, “You say that name as if it is a bad place.”
“It is.” When her brows pinched in confusion, I asked, “What is it?”
I was surprised when her lips flattened with a touch of anger and denial. “My instincts say you are wrong. You are not from this bad place.”
“Maybe not, but it is for sure where I will be passing to.”
That made Scarlett take a sharp inhale as if struggling to breathe.
“You okay?”
She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears and determination. “No. I don’t want you to go anywhere that is bad when I feel you are so good.” She stood. “I may not speak Italian, but I will find a way to pray to Her and tell God that you deserve Heaven.”
Scarlett left my room.
Even though she was wrong, and God wouldn’t answer that prayer, it felt good to know she was speaking to God on my behalf.
Since Scarlett, with every day that passed, was becoming braver and broadening her horizons, Sal announced it was ‘walk day’. Another small miracle. Who would have thought a simple walk outdoors would be so liberating for Scarlett and all who got to witness it.
But, that is exactly what it was.
Every step was a wonder for her. Literally. She had never had a pair of shoes before. Sal thought it best to try a pair of sneakers, since “Sandals can trip anyone on their best day.”
Yes, Angel and Sal—heavily loaded with occupied holsters, escorted Scarlett on a nature walk. It was a slow process at first. Scarlett, in a pair of loose pants that she didn’t feel were too constricting and another of Sal’s undershirts, was lifting her feet as if walking through mud and setting them down with a clunk, clunk.
Walking down a dirt road that was surrounded by carved out hills and so many trees it was challenging to see the sky, came a beautiful woman who could’ve been mistaken for Mrs. Frankenstein with her arms out to balance her and her awkward clunky steps.
Sal mumbled, “Thank goodness we don’t have neighbors.”
Clunk. Clunk. “What was that, Sal?”
“I said, you are doing wonderful and will get used to your shoes.”
Clunk. Clunk. “But you haven’t gotten used to your suits.”
Sal and I looked at each other as if Scarlett was mistaken, that taking a nature walk in expensive black suits and fancy shiny shoes was completely normal.
To Scarlett, I explained, “We are very accustomed to our suits.”
“Then why so,” she imitated us, looking like walking mummies.
Of course, that had Sal flinching. “Tell me I don’t look like that.”
“Scarlett,” I tried, but she interrupted me.
“You should try one of Sal’s undershirts. They are very freeing.”
Snarl.
Sal gazed down at his chest, where his undershirt was under a button-down shirt and black jacket. “I’m free.” His lips suddenly pursed as if pondering and not liking what he was thinking. Then he took off his jacket and folded it in half, shoulder cuff to shoulder cuff, then draped it over his arm. “See? I am very free.” His loaded gun holster made it even more challenging to believe.
“If you say so,” sang Scarlett with much sarcasm.
Sal balked. “When did you become such a smartass?”
I grumbled, “I knew she was spending too much time with you.”
“Me? How is this my fault?”
“Because sarcasm is your middle name?”
“It is?” innocently asked Scarlett, as she did her Frankenstein walk in a circle to turn around. “I’m going back to the house. My feet hurt.”
“See?” I snapped at Sal as I turned to follow her. “You made her feet hurt.”
“Angelo! Be reasonable! She must learn to wear shoes!”
“Not if she doesn’t want to!”
Clunk! Clunk! “I agree with Angel.”
“Oh,” Sal replied to her, completely offended. “Fine. Take his side. Follow the stuffed shirt.” He held out an arm and pointed to his perfectly folded jacket. “At least I am free.”
“Free?” I chastised him. “You are too stuck up to be free.”
That touched a nerve. “I am not stuck up. I just appreciate fine things.”
Clunk. Clunk. “Maybe the things you believe to be fine are not.”
Sal and I looked at each other, somewhat not sure how to react to such truth.
Scarlett froze. Tension radiating from her small frame. “What was that?”
I pulled out a gun and bent my knees, turning in a circle with it aimed and ready. “What, did you see something?”
“No. Feel.” A perfect finger wiped at her face. “Water.”
Splat. A raindrop hit my face. “Oh, it’s raining.”
“Wow,” she whispered in awe and breathtaking awareness as another drop landed on her face. “I saw this out the window when a child.”
It is mind-blowing how fast you can be grounded after an argument full of nonsense. I had just been wanting to throttle my best friend. Now, I was in the presence of the importance of life—finding true beauty.
Entranced by the wet leaves, Scarlett kicked off her shoes and freed her bare toes. She had been so focused on those shoes that she hadn’t taken a moment to notice nature at all. Now, her hands were floating in the air. She was gasping at every drop that touched her skin. “It is the trees’ turn for a shower.”
Scarlett may have sounded challenged to some, but Sal and I stared at her as if witnessing a true messenger from above, reminding us of all we shouldn’t take for granted.
Scarlett’s wonder had me thinking, not for the first time since rescuing Scarlett, of a discussion I once had with Mrs. Rossi…
Finally understanding her meaning, I told Mrs. Rossi, “Innocence is an untouched part of the heart.”
“Now, remember that, my Angel. No matter what has been touched on the outside, there is a whole other part of Scarlett yet to have been discovered… Even by her.”
Watching Scarlett’s heart be touched by the simplest of things after all she had suffered, I knew I was witnessing beauty at its finest. Just how nature intended. Rain dampened Scarlett’s long hair, making her impossibly gorgeous as she opened her mouth to drink in the naturally purified water. She laughed freely every time her tongue tasted more drops.
Again, her soul called to mine.
Scarlett squealed, “Angel! Isn’t it magical?”
Water dripped from my hair and into my mouth. “Magical.” I couldn’t stop staring at her and her wide arms, circling, head leaning back to the sky.
To ask if I was dreaming, I looked to Sal, but no words were needed. I only watched as his arms went slack, his immaculate jacket sliding to the ground as he leaned his head back, spread his arms wide, and opened his mouth.
God was present. I just knew it.
I could almost smell Her in the rain.
Knowing I had sinned—taken lives, even if for the better of mankind—I carried regret for being an executioner. That early evening, being in the rain, I wondered if there truly were angels who carried out balance for our Lord. The bible named a few. Maybe it was true.
Maybe Scarlett was right. I didn’t belong to Hell.