The Seven Deadlies
CHAPTER FOUR

Nick and I waved Tandy off by yelling affirmations at her. "You will get the part, you will get the part. Good luck, break a leg!"

As I closed the door I was sorry I'd said the 'break a leg' bit. Tandy's endless legs looked just about thin enough to break all by themselves.

All I'd meant was I'd wanted her to get the part because I really liked her. Well, I would I suppose. Being an angel I tend to like everyone, even the bad ones. I don't get much choice in the matter. But there was something very sweet and vulnerable about Tandy that touched me, something that was totally at odds with her sassy, sexy appearance.

Nick hung around for a little longer, somehow managing to look brooding and mysterious as he ate another bowl of cereal. (Lucky Charms, this time.)

"I gotta take off." He clattered his bowl into the dishwasher. "Work calls. Have a good day." Then he swung himself away with the fluid, careless grace that has half the women in the greater Los Angeles area beating down his door.

Then - apart from Granola, the dog, who still wouldn't come near me - I was alone. So what was I to do? I took stock of the situation. This was my fourth day on earth and so far I'd managed to commit three of the seven deadly sins I'd been commissioned to do. I had less than four days left to do Greed, Anger, Pride and…and…what was the other one, oh yeah. Lust, how could I forget?

A dangerous little thought wriggled in - the apartment complex had a pool. How about if I lay beside it and scoped for men? Surely that way there was a very good chance of taking care of Lust?

And when I rummaged among the clothes I'd been given for my mission, I found a sleek jade bikini, with a matching sarong. This convinced me that catching some rays was the Right Thing To Do.

There was only one other person by the pool. A man - as luck would have it. But the wrong kind of man. He was astonishingly thin and pale. You don't get too many pale people in Los Angeles. On the other hand you get plenty who are thin, in fact it's very hard to find people who aren't . But this man looked thin in the way someone who's been ill for a very long time looks thin. He lay inert on a sunbed, asleep behind his shades.

I tried a couple of exploratory swings past him but no dice. So I stretched myself out on a bed and Thought About Things.

If I'd been a perfect, superbeing, with an innate grasp of humanity I'd never have been sent here. Perhaps it was A Good Thing that I hadn't been a high-achiever. Dreamily I let the sun beat down on me while I wrestled with a philosophical conundrum: can angels get sunburnt?

After a while the worry became compelling so I jumped in my car, drove to the nearest drugstore and bought a bottle of factor 25.

But when I came out of the store, disaster struck. Suddenly I heard myself calling, "Hey! That's my car."

The two front wheels were off the ground, attached to a hook, attached to a truck. I was being towed! A man in a uniform said, "You shouldn'ta parked there."

A feeling stirred in me. A strange, outward spiraling rush where I had an irresistible impulse to physically assault this man.

"I was only in there for five minutes!" I yelled. My hand had balled itself into a fist and it seemed to be well on course to collide with the man's face.

"Hey, lady, no need to get so angry."

"I'm angry?" I squeaked.

"Damn straight you're angry."

I took a moment - and he was right. I do believe I'm experiencing …ANGER!

I lunged toward the man and he put his hand up to deflect the blow. But there was no blow. Instead I kissed him. "Thank you so much, sir." I danced around with glee.

He was transfixed.

"Aw, hey." He gestured to another man who was in the truck. "What the hell. She was only five minutes. Give her her car."

"No, no, no," I insisted, in delight. "You're just doing your job."

A small crowd had gathered. As my car was lowered back to the ground, they burst into applause.

"This kinda thing," I heard one of the onlookers say, as I drove away, "Restores your faith in human nature."

Back by the pool, slathered in sun-lotion, my pale, bony man was still immobile. Anxiety about his tender skin getting burnt began to gnaw at me. Gently, taking care not to wake him, I gave him a speedy once-over with my factor 25. But as I rubbed lotion into his arm I saw that he'd lifted his shades and was staring at me quizzically out of pale blue eyes.

"You angel," he said hoarsely.

"Sssshhh," I hissed - angrily, as it happens, now that I knew how to feel it.

The last thing we wanted was him figuring out what I was. Either he'd get locked up or I would.

*

That evening, back at the ranch, things weren't so good. Not only had Tandy not got the part she'd been up for but they'd told her she'd never make it because her look is 'so over.'

"What can I do?" She moaned. "This is how I look. What am I supposed to do?"

"Plastic surgery?" Nick suggested.

"I've had it," she yelled.

"Really?" I asked curiously. "What exactly?"

"Nose, lips, eyelids, cheekbones."

"Boobs," Nick chipped in. "You forgot your boobs."

She lifted her face from her hands just long enough to SCORCH him with a look.

"But you have so much talent," I reminded her.

"Talent, shmalent." She moaned, with a scornful wave of her hand. "This is Hollywood. What use to me is talent?"

And the awful thing is she was right. I felt really bad for her. How hard must it have been to defy her high-achieving, academic family and become an actress? No wonder she was so driven, she felt she had so much to prove.

She turned her tear-stained face to mine. ""We must go out and drink white chocolate martinis."

"That's the closest you get to a square meal, right?" Nick said.

"Gimme a break! I eat. Often."

"Oh yeah, I forgot. You had an aspirin last Tuesday."

"I'm an actress! Eating isn't an option."

"I'm giving you a hard time because I care about you."

"You don't care about anyone but yourself."

"Not true."

"Is true."

"Guys, guys," I said hastily. "Break it up."

"I'm going to the store." Nick swung moodily from the room.

Fifteen minutes later he was back, looking out of his MIND with worry.

"You are NOT going to believe this, I've just met crazy Karl, our friendly neighbourhood alcoholic -"

"- He pulled a knife on you?" Tandy asked, in alarm.

"No, far worse. He said hey and asked me how I was."

"Then he asked you for a dollar?"

"No, he said he was real sorry for all the crazy stuff, the yelling and the howling like a dawg. Says it won't happen again. He's cleaned up his act."

"I'm gonna miss him howling like a dawg," Tandy admitted. "So what's happened to him?"

"Dunno," Nick shrugged. "'Far as I can see he hasn't been the same since Grace called in on him."

"I met the guy for two seconds," I defended myself.

"What is it about you?" Nick considered me with his bleak dark eyes.

*

Later in some groovy bar, after three different men asked for and didn't get Tandy's number, she got deservedly maudlin about her audition.

"They way they treat people is the way I used to treat shoes. I usta stroll through the store, ignoring some, picking others up, then saying the most HURTFUL stuff."

"Like?"

"Like… too high, weird heel, wrong colour, too low. It's so CRUEL."

People at the other tables were beginning to look. I nodded sympathetically.

"And now when I'm at the market buying, like, apples, I pick the shiniest, reddest ones, RIGHT? But I try to send out vibes to the apples I left behind, to let them know that just because I didn't choose them doesn't mean that they're all not WORTHWHILE and UNIQUE. In case any of them feel BAD, you know? Oh no!"

Two martinis had just arrived courtesy of a man who was winking energetically from across the room.

"Take them back," Tandy beseeched the waiter. "Please."

"He's really cute," I tried to persuade her.

"Thank you," the waiter said, warmly. "So are you."

"I…um… actually meant the man who'd sent the drinks," I explained. "But thank you."