Ain’t no Angel

For days, as little Zoe came back to trade outfits on me, I had to wonder what was the matter with that girl. I know she saw a skeleton and not a simple scarecrow. The bag over my skull may have somewhat remained, for those sunglasses to fit, but she must have sensed the deathly visage beneath!

A bigger, mind-boggling, wonder was where she’d obtained those dresses. Either she was stealing from her Ma or Vera. Were those clothes washed before she put them back wherever she took them from?

I hoped so…

Despite her being wrong in the head, she was right about one thing: those dresses were pretty.

Some more days passed and I had caught myself looking forward to being dressed up by Zoe. She gave me a different image of myself. An idea I was far from my pitifully grim and morbidly grotesque self.

To understand myself, I reasoned that desirable expectation out. It was something different. Out of all the years just hanging here, Zoe was the first to take me down and do something with me rather than blow devilishly hot air up in my face.

I had entertainment for once. The fun part wasn’t being dressed up, but to see the expression on Zoe’s face after she completed her work. Sometimes she wasn’t pleased and would go back for more items to improve my appearance.

Most of the time, she reflected on her accomplishments and I pictured the sweetest smile on her pretty face. I hadn’t seen a beautiful smile like that in a really long time.

Then one day, she was caught red handed with the owner’s clothes!

Zoe had been too busy fitting me into another dress when her big sister came up from behind to surprise her.

“Zoe! What -- what is that?” Vera came up on a spooked Zoe, but the older sis’s attention was on me, lying supine. She had the same expression Zoe’d had when we first met.

“Please don’t tell Mom?” Zoe bunched her hands up on Vera as she pleaded.

“Zoe, that’s a -- are those my clothes?” I wanted to laugh at that exact moment so badly, but I could only watch as little Zoe seized up those tiny shoulders and sheepishly smiled at her disapproving sister.

“Sorry, Vera. But,” she turned to look back down at me and said, “Bonnie’s clothes were all torn and dirty and -- she wasn’t looking good.”

...She? Oh God, was she wrong about me. Well it wasn’t like gender was an issue with me anymore. No tool, or anything that worked, meant I wasn’t a man anymore.

“Bonnie?” Vera gave me another look of appraisal.

“Mhm! That was what the raggedy man called her.” My suspicion of her overhearing Mishotunga was confirmed when she said that. I knew, but she’d never outright said anything about the one-way conversation.

“Zoe, come with me right now. You’re going to tell Mom everything about Bonnie and the raggedy man.” Finally a kid who had a respectable head on her shoulders!

“Please! Vera, I’ll do anything. Anything! Just don’t tell Mom…” As Zoe begged, Vera firmly stood her ground.

“Zoe Espinoza!” Using her last name; she was getting serious now. Good for her. “Get your butt moving. We’re going to see -- sa- see…” I heard her trip over her words. Why had Vera begun to stutter?

I watched Zoe worriedly looked up at her big sister. Vera took one step back and instantly cradled her head in her hands.

Then a familiar voice joined the debate. “Bonnie, I see you have guests.”

Zoe clung to her sister as Mishotunga came forward in his worn and beat clothes, the many rags. He knelt down on a knee and gave the flinching little girl a pat on the head before his attention drifted up to Vera.

“My, my… we can’t have you spoiling Bonnie’s precious time playing dress-up.” He was face-to-face with Vera as he smiled.

The disgust she had shown me earlier was slight compared to the horrific revulsion on her face now. As for her taking any action, she was frozen motionless, paralyzed. The Devil had to have overwhelmed her and Zoe.

He’d apparently enthralled their senses with his miasma, but I knew from experience that he violated those with vulnerable and turmoiled minds. Just like he had done to me and my posse.

Which meant Zoe and Vera could’ve endangered themselves in their confusion.

He took Zoe’s hand and led her off to the side. “My dear, you best forget for your own good.”

The incident that happened after he said that was baffling. Zoe smiled and ran off back to the house. What in the damn Hell did I just see?

With a glance, he smirked at me before his attention shifted back to Vera. He tsked and said, “Your little sister has... a very open mind. I like her.” A very intimately familiar glint of Texan steel flashed in his hand. “As for you, not so open about Bonnie and me.” Reaching out, he grasped Vera’s hand and walked with her to me. “Let’s help our old friend back up, before we fix you up, shall we?”

Vera knelt down and righted the clothes on me before I was stood back up. Mishotunga jammed the stake deeply down into the soil. He reached a hand to his vacant crown and tipped his head to me in farewell.

“I’ll see you later.” All I could do was watch as the two of them walked away from me…

A few months later...

Compared to before Vera’s disappearance, Zoe barely saw me. Once in July and twice in September. Every time she came back, there was a sad look in her eyes.

She had to have been sneaking out to see me. No way would her Ma have allowed her to wander after Vera’s abduction. Worse was the knowledge that Zoe might not remember the event.

The Devil had played an old, but new trick: manipulation. He’d made me aware of the chaotic influence he could spread. Now I was alerted to his other dangerous ability.

But Mishotunga had given me the impression Zoe was only affected because her young mind was open, malleable.

When I sensed that October had come around, she visited me more often. Instead of being dressed up in something nice, she’d picked out an elegant dress. She had to bring a stool with her. The Devil had really pounded me into the dirt.

After awhile, she managed on her own to swap my dress.

The dress she put on me had straps only for my bare shoulders. At first, I thought she was having an issue with those shoulder-straps, but I sensed her poking rather than shifting something on me.

She was carrying cotton balls? She seemed to be clumping them in between my shoulder blades and spine.

What in the blazing Hell was she up to?

She tucked those cotton balls right in the back of my ribs before I discovered the reason the following day.

Zoe had crafted me a pair of wings.

They had feathers. Black ones… crow? That would’ve made a whole Hella lot of sense. The farm was probably littered with them over the years.

Judging from how they were made, there were a pair of corn stalks with the glued collection of black feathers. Once she’d stabbed them in, the cotton swabs secured the inserts with glue. I supposed she was giving me a costume for Halloween?

The little lady stepped down to admire her handiwork. She didn’t smile…

A few minutes passed with her just looking up at me before I heard the girl sniffle. Zoe ran away and didn’t come back until the sun was about to set.

With the stool still where she’d left it, Zoe climbed back up. In her small hands was an object. A framed photo.

I could picture who was on it. Maybe not accurately, but Vera had to be in that photo.

Those little hands slipped the photo out. She removed my sunglasses. For a few seconds, I was blinded by her plastering the back of the photo against my face. Then the sunglasses form-fitted the photo on me.

Zoe sobbed: “Now you’re beautiful.”

...Had she plastered Vera’s face on me? That was wrong. What she’d done was very wrong, but I’d already learned Zoe was weird. Cute, but still weird…

There was a shifting noise around me. I didn’t realize what had happened until the girl muffled her crying.

I got hugged.

“Goodbye, Vera.” Or rather, she hugged her big sister goodbye. She made me a placeholder.

I took back my initial judgement on her strange application. To her, I was inanimate and lifeless. I could be used in representation as a farewell marker. Like a tree could be decorated in yellow floral wreaths in the memory of a lost love.

She took a step down from the stool and said, “Thanks, Bonnie.”

...No problem, kid. I would be stuck around here for a long time if she’d ever have need to squeeze the life out of someone.

I felt real regret that I couldn’t do more for her…

On Halloween night...

There would be no possibility of Zoe going out for Halloween. That meant she’d be home where her Ma would’ve thought being in the house was safe.

The Devil was either tricked or treated.

Vera didn’t count for the year. She’d disappeared before Mishotunga’s anniversary. If Zoe or her Ma weren’t dressed for the occasion, they were going to be the main attraction for tonight. But I supposed Zoe would be the target.

Despite her manipulation, she’d seen the Devil and I doubted he’d let witnesses go wandering around.

When the night came, I caught the twitched and rustled stalks of corn being pushed aside. I anticipated Mishotunga, but was shocked when I heard Zoe.

“Happy Halloween, Bonnie.” She’d really snuck out again!

These parents had seriously been slack on responsibility over the years.

Beneath the photo, I sensed the slightest of shadow beneath me. I supposed she’d sat down by the stake in the ground?

She spoke quietly up to me. “Vera was supposed to take me out Trick-or-Treating tonight… or at least to play tag in the dark.”

There was a thump and my post shivered for a moment. Either she’d smacked the back of her head against the stake or slid further down it and slipped. Since she didn’t cry out or anything, I went with the former guess rather than the later one.

And she surprised me by proving me wrong on both guesses.

“Tag, you’re it.” Zoe’s tone was sullen.

If I were to have believed Mishotunga’s perspective of today’s world, kids like that came by rarely. Those sisters were a gem in the rough, and that natural beauty had been cracked in half.

I wanted to mend what had been broken. And I missed her perfect smile.

For tonight, I wouldn’t mind if she thought of me as she had Vera.

A little over a few minutes must have passed when something very, very, bizarre washed over me. Then the sensation was gone --

-- to be replaced by a whole new set of senses. I was disoriented and glad for once to be strapped to something sturdy.

Then the craziest thing happened. My fingers twitched, curled, and clenched into my palm.

I blinked.

I opened and closed my jaw. Even swished it back and forth to test if that had really just happened.

My toes curled. Both ankles popped when I rolled them in a stretch.

But the strangest thing of all was when I felt the tugging behind my back. At first, I thought that was me feeling a strained muscle in my shoulders. That wasn’t the case.

For the first time in years, I glanced in another direction rather than forward --

-- and caught sight of black wings folding forward?

They felt awkward. I shouldn’t have been surprised by how they felt. I’d never had wings before. Who had?

Angels… I ain’t no angel.

Very carefully, I twisted in my bonds until I felt them give me some slack. Slow and steady, I slipped one arm out and inspected my freed limb.

In a quiet voice, I heard Zoe. “Goodnight, Bonnie, I have to go…”

With my hand freed, I lifted it up to my throat and tested a nearly silent hum. I felt the vibration and barely heard the noise come up. Which meant I might be able to speak.

But should I? Wouldn’t a nearly bicentennial scarecrow suddenly coming to life send anyone running screaming into the hills?

I decided to keep quiet and watch her back. I wouldn’t hang here and wait for something to happen to that girl. That chapter of my existence was over.

I began to free myself before Zoe walked out of my sight.

The bonds were a little tougher than I had expected them to be, but I dropped out of bondage onto the ground -- not face first! Once I got a hang of using my legs again, I would follow after Zoe in a moment. She’d would’ve gone home and I knew where that was.

The house wasn’t far.

So first, I collected my duster off the ground and… well, I dusted it off. Then I quickly scanned around the dark crop for my badge. No sign of it.

After so long ago, I supposed when Manny threw my badge away, Anthony really had gone and retrieved it. Thanks, kid, but it was a shame I wouldn’t be getting it back.

I looked over my duster and wondered how I could ever wear that again? My wings caused an issue of reprising my old look…

My appearance…

I shifted my gaze down from the duster hung over my arm to myself. I hadn’t questioned the flesh that had returned to my arm, but my figure was a different story.

Patting down the elegant dress, I felt slim about the waist and slightly broader around these hips. Something wasn’t right here…

Then I took a deep breath and caught it in my chest the moment I saw my bust. There wasn’t anything beneath the dress, so I caught a full view of the valley between a pair --

“Breasts?” My throat constricted in a hard gulp at the sound of my voice. That was not my voice. “What in the...?” In fact, that wasn’t a man’s voice at all!

I lifted my hand and turned it slowly in front of my face. Slender fingers, subtle and soft palm, and a delicate wrist. Had God listened and granted me a wish?

If that were the case, I couldn’t disappoint the all-judging Creator. For Vera, I would be there for Zoe.

That snapped me out of my initial shock. I was Bonnie, and that was what mattered. Man or woman, I was still the same Texas Ranger.

And there was trouble coming for my little lady.

That brought to mind the second thing I required: a weapon. I wouldn’t be finding a gun out in the field. On second thought, for this day and age, a gun was too loud for the world.

Something else would have to be my weapon.

I threw the duster over my folded wings and shoulders. That would keep those feathery limbs from being caught by the corn. I got to walking quickly out of the field and toward the house.

To the side of the house was a small shack. I ran and inspected the inside to see a variety of tools. Most were rusty from neglect.

No gun, but one of those tools could work. I needed one that could make an impact on Mishotunga. As I thought back to the many years being a scarecrow in that corn, I remembered the farmers reaping what they sowed.

I had something perfect in mind.

And I spotted what I wanted hung up on the far wall: an almost four foot long scythe. Never used one before, but I’d seen plenty of the folk practice their skill with it on the field.

When I walked out of the shack, I gave the tool a few practice swings. The duster made it awkward as Hell to use it.

But kept practicing. I’d learned from an old friend that practice makes perfect.

Hearing the corn rustle, I said, “And speaking of the Devil.”

As I had thought he would, he showed up.

And he looked at me in confusion. Just like with all the other costumed kids, he didn’t know what to make of me.

Until a moment ago, he was just confused, but became frightened when I stepped into the moonlight.

That fear escalated when I addressed him. “Mishotunga, if you want flesh and blood, I’ll be happy to oblige you.” I held the scythe up and displayed it out for him to see. “But it won’t be innocent.”

I took a step forward --

-- he stepped back.

My armed posture changed to swing at him before he could do something stupid, like run. But my duster folded over my elbow and caught my swing. It got in the way again!

With a frustrated sigh, I decided I’d had enough of that and rolled my shoulders back. Once I brushed the duster off me, I realized the real reason swinging the scythe had felt awkward. Those wings wanted to flex and spread out wide.

And for the first time in my existence, I saw true terror in the Devil’s eyes. Did he mistake me for an angel?

With a smirk, I cleared up any misunderstandings. “I ain’t no angel.”

In a hysterical fit, he ran like a bat out of Hell. I didn’t know what to make of the situation, but I followed. My tracking ability was still top notch.

As long he remained in range, I could track him.

After an hour of following his tracks and chasing him down, he had decided to stop. And he waited for me along an empty road.

He was in a panic. To show how scared he should be, I swaggered up to him with the menacing scythe featured in front of me.

“You can run all ya want.” I aimed the point of the scythe at him and stated: “But ya can’t hide from me.”

That appeared to anger him. “I have never hid from you! Every night, I’ve greeted you like an old friend.” How could he tell who I was?

I asked: “You know who I am?”

“Of course I do! We’ve been friends for ages…” With his anger ebbed to simply being upset, he shook his head. “I’m tired. I’m tired of all this.”

Over all the visits I’d had from him, he’d expressed how tired he was of killing. But he feared death. Back then, I couldn’t question him when he spoke to me. Now I could.

And I did. “Why do you fear death?”

“I don’t!” After he shouted, he calmed a bit and explained: “We meet every year on this night.” He tore off the bandages around his face, then removed the rags and clothes off of his torso.

He displayed the rotted decay of his body to me.

“Do you see? I’ve been welcoming you.” He patted, then beat his chest with his closed fist. “I was called, and I tried to meet my end of the bargain.” The Devil shook his head and stated: “I can’t deal with this.” His hands tore off the rest of his rags until he stood fully naked. “Death, it’s not enough. Never has, never will be.”

He was wrong and I told him that. “You’ve done more than enough.”

For half a minute, he stared at me in stunned silence. With an air of relief, a sigh passed his lips. Once he closed his eyes, I saw he had teared up, but smiled at me.

And slowly came to me, one step at a time, as he gradually raised his open arms in welcome.

With the thought of nearly two hundred years of death, and the sweet sisters he’d split apart, I swung the scythe…

The morning after Halloween...

The scythe was rinsed. I’d cleaned up by the nearby creek before the sun was up. For me now, privacy was a must. Under the pale moon’s light, I’d confirmed the body I had was most certainly a lady’s.

Looking at my reflection In the creek, I discovered whose face gazed back up at me.

“Vera?” A sad smile appeared on my lips as I thought of Mishotunga. “No wonder you were terrified of me.” But I was confused as to why he’d treated me as Bonnie if he’d thought I was Vera.

Unless he mistook me for Death? I suppose I was his death...

“Well, that suits me just fine.” I finished washing up and walked back to the farm.

The scythe was shacked back up.

The old duster was thrown up on the stake to be the shadow of the old scarecrow.

In the early sunlight, I gave my duster an appraisal. I said, “It’ll have to do.” I wasn’t going back up there.

While I walked away and out of the cornfield, I heard the front door to the house open. Far from direct sight, and on the outskirt, I watched Zoe sneak out of the house. She’d made her way to and through the corn. Likely to see an old scarecrow.

My thoughts on the situation led me to a crossroad: should I stay or should I go?

What could I do out there in a world far beyond my ken?

What could I do here?

...I could put a sweet smile back on a little lady’s face. It wasn’t right to take Vera’s place. Not as Vera. But as I always was, as Bonnie, I could be there for Zoe.

I asked myself: “Well, you old bag of bones, what are ya waiting for?”

With a smile of confidence, and a bit of swagger in my gait, I returned to the cornfield...