Awkward Sean

Sean never applied to become an angel, at no point in his life did he aspire to angelic status. But when he died, instead of being greeted by a scythe-wielding-Death, or a clipboard-checking St Peter, he found himself sitting mid-air next to an angel, watching down a woman he'd never seen before.

"What's going on?" he said.

"Oh, you've died, become an angel and this is your first client. I'm Benson by the way. Your overseer."

Sean was confused by the answer, not because the words were unclear but just with the sheer amount of information crammed into the sentence.

"I'm an angel?" He looked at himself, he was no longer dressed in pyjamas as he had been seconds earlier, when he'd been alive, lying in bed and feeling like death. Instead he was in all-white, baggy clothing, akin to that which he used to wear for yoga. "I don't have wings or anything."

"Oh, you have to earn your wings. Don't worry, it only takes a few thousand years."

"And this is my client? She seems in a very bad way, she looks like she's cried herself dry. What should I do?"

"No need to do anything."

"And you're my Overseer? What's that exactly?"

"Oh, I just sit with you when you start. Show you the ropes, as the humans say. Not that there are ropes in heaven."

“Is there a manual or anything? It sounds like a lot of responsibility, if I was a human I’d have to do a course, get a qualification, pass a test.”

“No, no. It’s very simple, no need for a manual, certainly not a course.  Just one rule: We’re there for support and support only. Don’t speak, don’t touch, don’t be seen, and above all don’t get involved.”

“I don’t really understand. How are we supporting people if we don’t speak, don’t touch, can’t be seen and aren’t involved?”

“We listen. We’re there for people.”

“But what's the point of listening if they don't know we're listening. Shouldn't I say something, do something?"

"You're forgetting the non intervention policy. We must never reveal ourselves, we’d be found out and stripped of our rank.”

"What if I fail completely and she kills herself?”

“Oh don't  worry about that, you’ll be given another one. You'd be amazed how many humans there are in need of an angel's aid.”

xxx

Mid-sentence the scene changed. Sean found himself in what looked like a meeting room. He and Benson were both now sat on chairs, no longer hovering mid air, and around them were a dozen or so angels, some with wings, some without.

"Where am I now?" he asked Benson.

"Oh, we've been summoned to the Angelic Council. Don't worry, time stops for Angelic Council meetings, we'll return to Julia at the time we left."

"The Angelic Council? There aren't many angels here."

"Oh, we're just the local group. Shush, this is the big-winged Chief Himself, Holhirst."

An angel with extra-large wings had entered. Everyone went quiet.

"I've summoned you here to update you on the work I'm doing for the Higher Order of Angels on grieving rates. As you know grieving rates have been rising for several decades now and the Higher Order of Angels asked me to investigate the problem.”

“What are grieving rates?” whispered Sean to Benson.

“It’s the length of time our clients spend grieving before we angels are no longer needed," Benson whispered back.

“Who decides we’re no longer needed?”

As he spoke he became aware that Holhirst had stopped speaking and was staring at him, indeed that all the angels in the room were looking at him.

"Ah, yes we have a new angel with us today," said Holhirst, "Angel Sean. Something I can help you with Sean?”

“I am sorry Archangel Holhirst, I was just asking Benson about grieving rates. Who decides that clients are no longer needed? Is that us?.”

“The decision to appoint and remove clients are both made by divine judgement. Angels have no say in the matter – we are only angels after all.” There was modest burst of laughter at this, mostly from the angels without wings.

“So why are grieving rates important, if we don’t make the decisions?”

“Put simply, if the grieving rates are getting longer it means that people are taking longer to recover from the source of their grief and therefore, by implication, angels are doing a less good job. The Higher Order of Angels are most concerned.”

“But surely there are other factors," said Sean. "Cultural changes, death rates, family sizes.”

“Explain your reasoning.”

“Well, people are living longer and families are getting smaller, so death is a less common experience. It could be that people cope less well with grief now simply because they have less contact with death.”

“An interesting theory."

“If you could make allowances in your data for family size and age at death, this would give you a more reliable comparable trend over time.”

“It would?” Holhirst stopped to consider this momentarily. "I find your ideas very exciting, Sean, believe me I do. I feel there’s a paper to the Higher Order of Angels in this. However, for the time being, the raw data on grieving rates is the only source we have on angelic performance and the news isn’t good I’m afraid.”

Holhirst paused, as he noticed that Sean had his hand in the air.

"Sean, you’re all questions. It’s good to see enthusiasm in a newbie, though of course you won’t be able to find out EVERYTHING on your first day. Just because we can stop time doesn’t mean we can let meetings go on forever. What is it this time?”

“It relates to the subject, how we can do a better job?”

“We’d all like to know that Sean.”

There was modest burst of laughter at this, from exactly the same angels who’d laughed at Holhirst’s previous joke.

“Well, this may seem stupid, but what’s the point of angels being there to support the grieving if nobody knows we’re there. We can’t talk, can’t be seen, can’t be heard."

"That's the non intervention policy, Sean, we can hardly override the non intervention policy. After all it is the will of God."

xxx

The Angelic Council meeting ended suddenly and Sean found himself back with his client, Julia. However, this time he was alone, Benson wasn't with him.

I wonder what's wrong with her, Sean wondered to himself, and he immediately know the answer. Her fiancé had been killed in a car crash a few days before. She was eaten up with grief, and with guilt that she hadn't been there with him. He could find out anything he wanted just by asking the question, it was like he had access to a divine Wikipedia.

Julia's behaviour made more sense now he knew the detail. Still, what could an angel do. Just watch over her, as she cried her eyes dry. The non intervention policy, the Archangel had said. But if he couldn't intervene what was he doing here?

The phone rang. Julia did nothing, she just lay there, letting the chimes echo round the room.

After a while the phone stopped ringing and silence dominated. Sean did nothing, there was nothing he could do, he just hovered above her, watching her sob dry tears. After a while the phone rang again, Julia didn't stir from her bed, and the silence returned. The phone rang every once in a while throughout the day.

Eventually his curiosity got the better of him. The next time the phone rang he tried to find out who was calling, asking the angel Wikipedia he had used previously, but this time he found himself whizzing down the phone line, and he re-emerged at the other end, an office, where a young man was calling her.

"Still no answer," the said to those around him as he hung up.

"Poor thing," said one of his colleagues. "I hope someone's looking after her."

'Yeah, no worries, I'm on the case' thought Sean to himself. He returned, not down the phone line this time, as they'd hung up, but by as if by magic teleportation. A handy skill.

Julia hadn't moved in his absence. Sean had nothing else to do, so he summoned up a notebook and pen and made a careful note of her breathing, the regularity of her tears, and any time she moved.  To gain these details he found himself able to manoeuvre around her at will, there seems no end to his powers. Except of course, because of the non intervention directive, he could do nothing at all.

xxx

And then suddenly Sean was back in the Angelic Council meeting room. Why did they have to do every little thing face to face he wondered, wasn't there an angelic equivalent of zoom.

Again Holhirst was last to enter the room, which he entered grandly, as if expecting applause.

As before he came straight to the point.

“I’ve called you here because of this.” With a dramatic Holhirst he threw a newspaper onto the table in front of them. 

He was met by blank looks.

Realising that none of the angels have understood, he pointed to the headline. “It's the local paper," he said. "Look, there, on the front page. ‘Angel spotted in town centre’.”

Around the room eyes peered towards the story.

“Front page news, in our local paper. I hope you’re all suitably ashamed. One of you has allowed yourself to be seen. In the High Street no less. If one person reported seeing you, you might have been seen by hundreds of people. This is a serious breach of invisibility. A Mrs Enid Wetherspoon has reported seeing an angel standing outside Millets in the High Street.”

"It wasn't me," said one of the angels. "I've never even been in Millets. I don't even know where it is."

"I've just told you where it is Bathurst, it's in the High Street and don't tell me you've never been in the High Street."

"We don't know that there really was an angel," said Sean.

Holhirst glared at him.  "It says so here, in the Chronic. Front page."

"I know what it says, but it doesn't mean that there really was an angel there. It could just be some batty old woman who thinks she saw an angel."

"Yes," said Bathurst, pleased to have ammunition, "And if she didn't really see an angel then we're all off the hook".

Holhirst paused, clearly furious at being contradicted. "She may have imagined it, or it may be true, and if I find that it was one of you in the High Street being careless you will never get wings Bathurst.  We can't have our angels seen strolling around the High Street."

“I don’t understand,” said Sean, speaking out of turn again. “What’s so bad about being seen? Wouldn’t people be more reassured if they knew that there were angels watching over them?"

“Your first job isn’t it?” said Holhirst.

Sean nodded.

“You’ll get used to it lad. After a few thousand clients you come to see that the best way we can help is just to be there. If you do things for people, they come to rely on it.”

“So are we actually needed? If we don’t, you know, do anything."

"Everyone needs an angel watching over them at times of need. The world would be chaos without us."

The meeting ended, with another threat that if the Millets Angel was identified there would be consequences.

xxx

Sean found himself alone again with Julia.

Nothing happened for a while. Sean was getting used to it. It was all part of angelic life.

Then, suddenly, movement. Julia climbed out of bed. At last, a good thing, he thought. She staggered through to the bathroom, where she sat on the toilet.

Angels are there at all times, Sean discovered, he was unable to step outside the room until she was finished.  He turned away, there are some things an angel doesn't need to see.

After she finished she washed and dried her hands, a good sign Sean thought. Then she took out a bottle of pills from the cabinet, then another bottle, carried them through to the kitchen. She sat at the kitchen table, poured the pills onto the table, and started to line them up in three separate neat rows.

I can't believe I can't do anything, Sean thought. I just hover hear on my little angel cloud and watch her kill herself, then when she's dead I'm assigned to the next Julia who'll do exactly the same thing. If only I could call the Samaritans for her.

Immediately Sean realised that he could make a call. But not the Samaritans, they would be no help if she hadn't called them. She'd just hang up on them.

He searched through the call history, Jeff the work colleague who'd called several times. He found the number and pressed call.  Then he moved the phone to the kitchen, how he managed this he didn't know, his powers seemed unlimited, although it was clear that he wasn't supposed to use them.

"Hello," said Jeff.

Julia was surprised to find the phone beside her, but her memory was hazy. "Hello," she said.

"Julia," Jeff said. "We've been trying to get hold of you. You've not been picking up."

"Uh,"

"You must be in a terrible state. I'm so sorry about Derek. Is there anything I can do?"

Julia said nothing.

"What about food. I could drop by with a takeaway. Have you eaten? Chinese?"

Julia said nothing, but importantly didn't say no.

"I'll be round in half an hour then."

Jeff hung up. Julia stared at the phone for a while, then, after what seemed an age, started scooping the pills back into the bottles.

Half an hour later there was a ring at the door. Sean was nervous, half expecting to have to open the door himself, another transgression of the non intervention policy.

However, after what seemed forever, Julia rose from her chair and went to the door.

The smell of Chinese food filled the flat. Even Sean could smell it.

"Shit," Julia said, "I don't think I've ever been so hungry."

xxx

Yet again Sean found himself in the angelic meeting room.

"What's going on now?" he said to Benson.

"I've no idea. Perhaps the Millets One has been in action again."

As before, Holhirst was last to arrive and made a dramatic gesture to signal the need for silence.

"Angels," he said, "I have bad news. Very bad news indeed. One of you has broken the primary directive. The non intervention policy."

There was a collective gasp from the angels, a sound impossible to describe if you've never heard a group of angels gasping simultaneously, which I'm guessing you haven't.

"Surely not," said Bathhurst. "No angel would dare to break the direct order of God."

"Who?" said Benson.

"It was Sean," said Holhirst, pointing out the new angel. "He has directly contravened the non intervention policy, on his very first day in the job."

"What has he done?" said Benson.

"He made a phone call."

There was another collective gasp.

"What have you to say for yourself, Sean?"

"Well, my client was about to kill herself."

"We would have found you a new client," said Holhirst. "There's no shortage of angelic work."

"That wasn't my point," said Sean. "What are angels for if we just hover there in the air doing nothing?"

"Are you challenging the word of God?"

"Er, well, if you put it like that I suppose I am. What's God playing at giving us these powers if we can't use them. It's like the tree of knowledge all over again, why stick a tree of knowledge in the middle of the garden if you don't want people to eat from it."

"Blasphemy," said Holhirst. "I've never heard such blatant blasphemy.  You leave me no choice angel Sean, I am forced to remove your wings."

"But I don't have any wings."

"What! Ah, well in that case you leave me no choice but to remove your angelic status."

At that moment the meeting was interrupted by a wing-ed angel dashing into the room carrying a scroll.

"What in heaven's name is this?" said Holhirst. "We're in a meeting of the Angelic Council. You didn't even knock."

"Sorry your Archangelness," the angel said, "But I have a proclamation from God himself."

"A proclamation from God himself?"

"Yes, your Archangelness." He unrolled the scroll. "It reads, 'As of now the non-intervention policy is rescinded."

There was a collective gasp from the angels.

"There is more," said the messenger angel.

"More!" Exclaimed Holhirst, an angel usually averse to exclamation marks, but this seemed an exceptional moment.

"Yes, furthermore the scroll reads, "Angel Sean is to be promoted to the status of Archangel with Wings On Order'"

"Archangel with Wings on Order!?!" Holhirst exclaimed again. "I was an angel for twenty thousand years before I was made an Archangel."

"There's more," the messenger angel said. He read on. "Furthermore," he said, "The scroll concludes, 'Archangel Without wings Sean will provide the Angelic Council with instruction on how to implement the non-non-intervention policy.' Thus the scroll concludes," the messenger said.

"What does all this mean?" Sean asked Benson.

"It means the floor's yours," he said. "Good luck."