70. Do The Stanley

Meanwhile, I was still thinking. I could see Washington and Uriel in one-way conversation mode. The SSA was giving Uriel a severe listening to. I had seen Uriel flying - that is to say wings out over the Earthbound realm – just that one time. When I had been helping out the Seraphim Service; that first time I met Mr D out over Mount Rushmore. Right after the Devil puffed into invisibility, I saw Uriel flying east, no junior G-Men alongside. He flew like a bee. Had I been closer I reckoned I would have heard his wings hum. He looked like it was against the laws of aerodynamics for him to leave the ground too. But then, if the Earthbound had thought up the science, the physical laws, the proofs, how come angels could fly at all? Maybe they didn’t really believe in science, not like they did in religion. The Earthbound are complicated. Whatever, Uriel was big, linebacker big. It gave him a natural authority.

Sam Sara was still busy with her doughnut. She’d moved ten yards along the rails, avoiding the Nun’s smoke. I kept my eyes on Uriel until he got back in the C and C van. Washington went over to the SWAT vehicles, spoke to one of the drivers. The engines started and they rolled smoothly out of the gates. Washington watched them shaking his head. Then he stopped to speak to Mr D again. He raised his eyes heavenward and began walking over to us; Lucifer was laughing behind his back. Mother Innovación was fingering a rosary, mumbling blasphemies. I caught her eye, she shrugged one shoulder.

‘Bored. I hate waiting, Stanley.’

‘Don’t call me, Stanley.’

‘What’s wrong with Stanley?’

‘It’s not suitable for an angel.’

‘Says who?’

Washington arrived to cut short the philosophical debate on the naming of angels. It wasn’t warm, but there were beads of sweat on the FBI man’s forehead. He pulled out a handerchief so white it had the blue tinge of arctic ice. His initials were on the corner, spelling out SAW.

‘Are you feeling OK?’ The caring tone jarred with the nun’s gravelly voice.

‘I’ve been better.’

She went on, ‘We’ve been discussing angels’ names, Stanley and I.’

SSA Washington’s eyes crossed, just a little. ‘Who? Oh, you mean Agent Kowalski.’

Mother Innovación conjured up a very beatific smile for a minor demon.

‘If you’ll excuse us Mother, I need to speak with Agent Kowalski. Alone.’

The smile left her face. ‘Sure. Why should I have all the fun?’

I watched her enter the building. The SSA and I started to speak at the same time. With the same word even: ‘Why-’.

‘You first,’ he said - and I thought he might have been a good guy to work for.

‘Why is just one super-annuated nun in charge of all these kids? You were going to say the same right?’

‘No, I was going to ask her why she called you Stanley.’

My poker face must have failed. The SSA started laughing. ‘I did a minor Film Studies credit at NYU, only had to write one paper. Mine was “Brando: Gay Icon to Mumbling Monster”. To tell the truth, I think I got the A grade for the title.’

The lips recovered his teeth, but a smile lingered. ‘No, you’re right. I was wondering that myself. I’d have asked the boss man over there, if I could have got the thin edge of a word in. Say, what kind of name is Uriel, anyway? He must be new, I’ve never heard of him before.’

‘I think he was undercover for years in OC.’

Washington nodded, ‘He looks the type. Let’s go inside and ask the nun how she copes. And why she’s left all those kids in the charge of a clown.’