‘BIRD’S-EYE VIEW.’

“For fucks sake!!” muttered the angel. Well he thought it was an angel. Or was it a pigeon? The more he looked at the thing, the less he was sure what it was. It looked like one of those pictures that changed from one image to another if you tilted it back and forth. Only this one was pacing backwards and forwards across his mantle-piece ranting to itself, while he was on his knees, on the threadbare rug in front of it.
Nothing seemed to make sense any longer. It had all started with such a simple plan. Get drunk, buy drugs, take drugs, then more alcohol and commit suicide. Now, all that was messed up.
He didn’t know what to do, so started to pretend to pray, while watching it through squinting eyes, and mumbling a poor rendition of the Lord’s prayer.
“ Don’t you think it’s a bit late for that?,” said the angel.
“Pardon?” he looked up, still with his hands clasped in front of him.
“ You’re not impressing anyone kid. What do you think you’re doing anyway?”
“Praying? ,… praying to God…”
“What!You think there’s some old guy on a cloud listening?”
“Well… Not necessarily on a cloud, but…”
“How charmingly naïve,” said the angel. “ I didn’t think there were many like you left”
“But.. If you’re an angel?” he waited for an a reply, but it simply looked itself up and down, then gave him a questioning look. “ Then, there must be a God, he must exist.”
“He?”
“You mean he’s a woman?”
“Jesus Christ!!!”
“Oh, ..he’s Christ. I see…I remember now…Father, Son and Holy gho…”
“No! I mean Jesus Christ!! Are you really so stupid?” It paced up and down, muttering to itself.
He couldn’t make out all it was saying, but it appeared that it was annoyed to wasting it’s time babysitting this Neanderthal cretin. He assumed that was him. It also muttered that it had happened again, and someone would get their arse kicked for letting me see him. He took the opportunity to study it while it was distracted.
It was the size of a pigeon, in fact that’s what he’d imagined it was when he’d picked it up from the gutter and brought it home. It still had the piece of bandage he’d tied around it’s injured leg. Occasionally the image would appear to flicker, and it would be a pigeon again. However, for most of the time it appeared as a very small rotund man, with a bald head, a grey tail-coat and a bright green waistcoat. Rather like a character from a Dickens novel, only with the addition of a pair of pigeon’s wings.

“What are you looking at?” It trained a beady eye on him.“ I suppose it’s all very confusing for someone with your limited intellect . So, I’ll take it slowly.
God. If you want a name. Isn’t He, She or It. Just is… It’s an manifestion of faith. Do you understand?” It tilted it’s head on one side, as though expecting a response.
“So it’s O.K.to swear then?”

“Of course it’s O.K. to fucking swear! Jesus!!!” Then, “God give me strength!!” It looked up to the ceiling. Then down at him, and winked.“ That last bit was a request.” but confronted by a blank stare, added. “That was a joke.”
“Look I know you may not be the sharpest pencil in the box, but I’ve grown quite fond of you over time. So I’ll persevere.” It shuffled to the edge of the mantle-piece, flipped up it’s coat tails and sat down. “All this blaspheming swearing shit is to do with religion, not God.” It could see he was about to say something fatuous, so said, “Shut the fuck up until I’ve finished.” He did as he was told, and stayed kneeling on the rug.
“God is about faith, while religion is all about business. There’s only one God, but lots of religions, but they’re all the same. Just different brands.” seeing a puzzled expression he added. “ Look, it’s like food. Faith is like hunger, and all the religions are like Fast-food chains, offering you a route to heaven rather than the perfect meal. The big three, Christianity, Islam, Judaism they’re like McDonald’s, Burger-King and KFC. Do you understand?”
“ So Judaism is like KFC?”
“ Yes, but obviously without the bacon ribs.” Faced with a blank stare, the angel added “ Joke.” They both smiled. Sensing an opportunity to break the ice, and to appear less stupid he asked.“ What about atheists and agnostics?”
“Atheists are, like vegans, too fucking smug by half,” answered the angel.
“Then agnostics, must be like vegetarians…but, the type who still eat fish.” He added. They both laughed.
“I like that kid, ‘the type who still eat fish.’ I may use that myself one day. Perhaps you’re not as stupid as you look.” It stood up stretched it’s wings, then closed them and sat down. “ Now we’re getting somewhere, whoever said theology was difficult.” Then it continued.
“Religion is just a way for people to make sense of God, a set of rules to follow which is supposed to guarantee you a place in heaven. As long as you toe the line and do what you’re told by people who claim to have God on speed-dial. It also rather usefully gives you people to be afraid of, or even hate. The threat of all these unbelievers used to keep people in line. Not any more, now people are more frightened of negative equity than eternal damnation. They chop and change their religions, like choosing from a menu, taking the bits they like from one and ignoring the bits that they find unpalatable.”
“ So, what’s God really like?”
“ I wondered how long it would take for you to ask that. They always do in the end. It’s like being an acquaintance of Madonna, on a daytime chat show. Go on they say, you can tell us. We won’t tell any one else, but what is she really like? Well, God is a bit like Madonna I guess, ageless, enigmatic, and fond of wearing corsets….
Sorry, I made up the last bit, but you should have seen your face. God, isn’t like anything. Just is.. Just a thought, or a feeling. Not a guy on a cloud with a deep voice and grooming issues.”
Deciding to make the most of a thaw in the mood, he asked, “What’s it like being an angel? Do you do miracles? What should I call you, Gabriel?”
“Well, I’ll answer in the order you asked them. So, mainly boring, no and let’s settle for Frank.”
As the angel appeared happy to talk he decided to risk another question
“ So, why have you appeared to me. Is it because I saved your life?”

The effect was instantaneous and dramatic. The angel lept to his feet, and shouted.
“Saved my life!! I saved your life, although only God knows why you miserable little shit, I just do what I’m told… For your information, the only reason you can see me now is because someone has screwed up big time.”
It seemed quite flustered after it’s outburst and a little contrite, adding that it was tired and thirsty, it had been a long day and that it’s leg hurt. Folding it’s wings it sat back on the mantle-piece and began preening it’s feathers.

He took the opportunity to get off his knees, by offering to get it some water.
Then he went into the small kitchen, and after moving the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, (as he’d planned to kill himself earlier, he’d not bothered to wash them.) found a clean ashtray, she wouldn’t need it now, and filled it with water.
He was about to return to the living room, when he suddenly thought that this was all a hallucination brought on by the drugs. Put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the foil packet, unopened. So, it may be not be the drugs, alcohol, or stress perhaps. Or even that little tablet the dealer had given him, with the picture of a dove on. Yes, that must be it, God knows what was in that. He’d never taken drugs before, had always been frightened of the side effects. Had only bought them tonight as an easy way to end it all.
He opened the kitchen window wide, and took deep breaths of the cold night air to clear his head. Then splashed his face with cold water.
It was passing, the hallucination. He felt calmer. Looking out of the window, everything looked peaceful. The frozen food factory twelve stories below lit up as the night-shift loaded the wagons, and which had given this block the local nick-name of , ‘Bird’s-eye view’. Then directly below him the car park where they’d found her body. He shuddered, and closed the window a little. Why did she do it? Was it really an accident, like they said?

Suddenly he panicked, what if it wasn’t a hallucination, and he had a thirsty angel in his living room. He carefully carried the ashtray into the room, then he breathed a sigh of relief, the injured pigeon was asleep on the mantle-piece. So he had been hallucinating after all. He quietly placed the water next to the bird, and leaning over watched it’s feathers moving gently as it breathed. It’s eye opened “ About time too!” it said.
He sprang back in shock, and tripped over the rug.
“What’s the matter with you?” Did you think it was the drugs?”
“You know about the drugs?”
“We know everything, we’re like the CIA, but with a smaller clothing allowance”
“Everything?”
“Well, we know you like Guinness, Marmite and have a fine collection of pornography under your bed.”
“You’ve been spying on me!”
“We prefer, keeping an eye on you. Anyway, what do you expect if you don’t close your curtains “
“ I’m on the twelth floor, why do I need curtains, the only ones who can look in are….”
“Birds!”
“Hang on, are you the pigeon that I give bread to?”

It nodded, “Actually, while you mention it, do you think I could have some bird-seed occasionally, bread gives me wind.”
“Oh..! You should have said before. Then I could have served you petite-fours while you invaded my privacy.”
“Don’t be so touchy, I’m only doing what I’m told.”
“Isn’t that what the Nazis said?”
“Hang on, I saved your life!”
“According to you that is. Perhaps you’d like to explain precisely how you saved my life. When I picked you out of the gutter after you were hit by that truck, brought you back here and bandaged your leg.” He turned walked across the room, and slumped on the sofa, and feeling quite smug, folded his arms.
“For your information” replied the angel. “ I was hit by the truck because I flew in front of you to stop you stepping out and under it’s wheels. As you may remember you were rather …preoccupied, or should that be pissed.”
Feeling rather ashamed, he replied, “Oh… I’m sorry I didn’t realise.”
“Obviously.”
“So, why did you risk your life for me.”
“Well, it goes with the territory. I’m supposed to keep an eye on you, and try and keep you in one piece.”
“Like a guardian angel?” Frank nodded. “..but, why me?”
“ I don’t know, I just go where I’m sent. It’s a bit like being a homing pigeon, but homing in on a feeling, not on somewhere I’ve been before, but on someone I need to watch over. In fact when I first came here I didn’t realise it was you I had to protect….”
“ You thought it was her, didn’t you?”. Frank nodded, and looked at the ground.
“Well, let’s be honest kid. She seemed the special one. You’re more of an acquired taste. It was only after…”
“She died..” he was staring at the ground too, then put his head in his hands.
“ That I realised it was you all along” continued the angel. “Which was just as well, otherwise I would have really screwed up losing her.” then realising how it sounded, added. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it was lucky she died. Only that If she’d been the one, it would have been… unfortunate.”
“Unfortunate” he repeated. “I think I’d call that an understatement. It was certainly unfortunate for her, and for me , and…” his voice tailed off.
“The child” added Frank. He nodded, but couldn’t speak. “ Life sucks kid, what can I say. You know veil of tears, and all that shit. Happens to us all. Or I should say happened. Just because things happened a long time ago, it doesn’t mean you forget, but it does get easier. It’s like an old bruise that you hardly remember getting, until you lean on it and unexpectedly get a jolt of pain.” The angel paused, and seemed lost in his own thoughts for a moment. Then abruptly, ruffled his feathers, and announced, “ Aren’t you going to ask me what it’s all about? They always do. After the ‘ What’s God like?’ and, ‘ Can you get Sky sports in heaven?’ they always ask that.”
He looked up through tearful eyes, “ Well Frank, what is it all about?”. The angel fluttered over and landed on the arm of the sofa, tilting it’s head on one side, and looking up at him asked, “ Are you sitting comfortably?” he smiled a sad half smile, and nodded. “ Then I’ll begin. ”it said.
“As far as I understand, and don’t quote me on this, as it’s only things I’ve picked up over many, many years in the job. You never get a proper explanation from this crowd, and in the old days they didn’t do staff induction training.

At the very beginning of everything God was there. Now whether God started it, or was created by it I don’t know, I‘m only a pigeon after all. Whatever happened, I don’t know what that was, but it was serious shit, and God took responsibility for it. From then on God, tried to fix things, tried to find a way to get locals to sort out their own problems. So, God choose someone who seemed up to the job, and gave them some ideas. A quick visitation, the old miracle or two, and throw in a bit of fire and brimstone for the difficult ones. Then leaves them to get on with it, let them do the day to day stuff, just keep a watching brief. Unfortunately, like all simple plans, it didn’t work. They would start persecuting people, and substituting their own ideas.
So ,God choses someone else, tries it again but it’s like Chinese whispers. Whatever message they’re given , they interpret it differently, causing more trouble. Now the first lot think the second lot are heretics, and vica versa. Cue, lots of burning at stakes and general unpleasantness. Which isn’t at all what God wanted.
These days we don’t single anyone out, otherwise people they get the wrong idea. For example if we chose you, no matter how well meaning you are, within a few years you’d have a cult. Within a few hundred a religion. People would dress in black and white for the holy Guinness, those who didn’t recognise the superiority of Marmite over Vegemite would be persecuted. While that centre fold of Miss November that you’re so fond of would be a religious icon, and she’d have been rehabilitated as a virgin.” He laughed. “ This is no laughing matter” said the angel, “stranger things have happened…So..these days we just keep an eye, or rather two beady eyes on people who may be useful to the plan. Try to keep them on the straight and narrow, out of trouble until they’re needed. That’s why I’m here.” As if to give the last point added impact, the angel fluttered off and perched on the television set.

“Why me?” he asked, whipping away a tear.
“Don’t ask me, I’m just a pigeon,” said the pigeon. It had changed back again.
“Why do you do that, change backwards and forwards all the time?”
“Don’t ask kid, it’s not supposed to happen. You’re not supposed to see this, we don’t do transformations and revelations any longer. People are too cynical now, they think it’s a camera trick or hypnosis. If you parted the Red Sea these days people would think it was CGI. In answer to your question...‘They’..” It waved a wing above it’s head, “…are experiencing unexplained glitches with the ‘Operative Concealment Device.’ Which either means, someone has screwed up, or as we say, ‘God is moving in a mysterious way.’ Whatever it is, it happened once before, and is now really beginning to piss me off. All this changing too and fro is playing havoc with my bowels. However on the plus side it’s allowed us to have this nice little chat, you don’t get to talk to the punters often these days, or I suppose I should I say ‘Service Users.’” It shuffled sideways along the top of the TV, “Anything else you’d like to know?”
“How did she,..they die….?” he was looking into the angels eyes, it had changed back again, and seemed uncomfortable, and flustered perched precariously on the TV.
“ I don’t know, I didn’t see.” It seemed to be trying to avoid eye contact.
“ I thought you were watching her? You said you thought she was the one. Didn’t realise it was me until after she died. So, you must have seen it happen, you were always on the balcony after food. I need to know, did she jump?” The angel seemed relieved by the question, and stopped fidgeting.

“No, she didn’t jump. It was an accident. She was on the balcony, standing on a chair
to clean the windows. She wasn’t as agile as before with being pregnant, and needed the chair to help her reach the top. Then she slipped, or something startled her and with being on the chair she went over the railings..”
“Did she scream?” he needed to know it all, after everything he had imagined in his thoughts, he needed to know the truth.
“No, she wasn’t much of a screamer, was she kid.”
“No, she wasn’t, she always liked to keep a lid on her emotions, but.. Did she suffer?”
“No, she didn’t. That’s one of the advantages of being on the twelth floor that estate agents never mention.”
“Was she frightened then?”
“No, not frightened, just surprised, puzzled even..”
“Puzzled?”
“Yeah, just puzzled. It takes people different ways. She was just puzzled. That’s the thing about mortality, it’s a bit like virginity, you never know how you’ll react to losing it. Sorry, but that’s it kid. Can we move on now, it’s getting late and this leg is hurting like a son of a bitch.”
It really was late, the alcohol seemed to be wearing off, and he felt so, so tired. The stress of the last few weeks, the funeral and recriminations had finally caught up with him, and he began weeping uncontrollably. The angel fluttered over, sat on his shoulder and whispered in his ear. He couldn’t hear it properly over his sobbing, but felt it’s words soaked into his body and soothed him. He didn’t have the energy or inclination to leave it’s presence and go to bed, so he curled up on the sofa and fell asleep under it’s watchful gaze.

He woke early, he was cold, the sun was just beginning to rise, and shining in as he hadn’t closed the curtains. He stood up and stretched, and was about to call out a name, when he realised he was alone. So, it had been the drugs, but he felt strangely calm, something was missing. What was it? Then realised it was the guilt. He no longer felt guilty for their death.
He went in the bathroom, and taking the foil packet from his pocket unwrapped it and flushed it’s contents away. Then went into the kitchen, switched on the kettle and put coffee in a mug. Found that he’d run out of milk, and remembered that he’d not intended to see this dawn. Drank his coffee black, then set to work washing the dishes. It had been so long since he last did the washing that he soon ran out of space on the draining board and had to make do putting the excess dishes on the window ledge. He was so preoccupied making a shopping list in his head, that he failed to notice the suds running off a mug and washing away the bloody footprint of a bird next to the partially open kitchen window.

THE END.