Page 3 of Angelic Acts
It’s a false identity. I have so many questions for my little angel. Questions I could easily answer with a simple photo search through my not-so-legal codes. But I won’t invade herprivacy. At least, not her past that she’s taking such measures to bury.
However, no one assumes a fake persona unless they need one. Something scared Lizzy enough to obtain one. Which means she could be in danger. There’s a threat against her, and I’m the only one capable of keeping her safe.
It solidifies my decision.
After a week of watching her, I approach the owners of the house that backs up to hers. They share a fence. When I offer the elderly couple twice the value of the house in cash for their immediate departure, they’re all the merrier to take the deal. I even help them find a nice home in a retirement community. There’s a park, walking trail, and people their age. It’s not too selfish of an offer.
A week later, I’ve moved out of my penthouse and into the two-story home that backs to Lizzy’s. From the second floor, I can see over the fence and watch my angel. Keep her safe and protected under my constant vigilance.
My actions are justifiable in that I only will interfere with her life when she needs me. I won’t ever inconvenience or harm her. I won’t even introduce myself. She’s not mine to have by my side, but she’s mine to protect from afar.
And that has to be enough.
Chapter1
Lizzy
The white powder glistens in the sun, but that’s not what makes me smile. What brightens my mood is the snowless driveway that makes my morning so much easier.
The high schooler who shovels my driveway for service hours never ceases to amaze me. I’ve never even met the kid; he’s done shoveling before I wake up. He’s never missed a day, which is why I shouldn’t be surprised he came this morning, even though the snow was unexpected.
The letter arrived along with a shoveled driveway when I first moved here six years ago on the third snow of the season. It stated that a high school student lived in the area and would shovel my driveway every time it snowed for service hours. All I had to do was sign an agreement.
I guess once that kid graduated, another one took over because I haven’t had to shovel my driveway since. Although I haven’t ever met him, I leave him little presents some days.
Sometimes, I crochet winter garments for him. Other days, I bake pastries or desserts. I’ve even left soup out for him. The only times he hasn’t taken my offerings were when I would leave him an envelope with some cash. After the third time ofthe envelope ending up back in my mailbox, I realized he can’t count it as service if I pay him.
This morning, his present was a one-hundred-piece puzzle of a whale. Sometimes, on my way home from work, I pick up an educational present from the gift shop at the zoo. He’s gotten several animal puzzles, Lego sets, crosswords, and other not-so-interesting things for teenage boys. But I firmly believe in working the brain, so I give them to him anyway.
He’s not the only godsend since moving to this tundra. As I drive to work, I think of the elderly man who taught me how to drive in the snow.
My sweet neighbor saw me crying outside my car my first snowfall. I was clueless and resigned to calling in sick. That weekend, Mr. Sebastian knocked on my door and offered me free lessons. He told me he’d seen me struggle to back out of my driveway. Mr. Sebastian was incredibly patient. He even talked me through multiple teary-eyed moments. It took several weekends of lessons, but now, because of him, my driving in the snow rivals that of a Boston native. After those lessons, though, I never saw him again.
Honestly, this whole city has been incredibly kind to me. Sometimes, I wonder if I have a guardian angel watching over me. It’s not just Mr. Sebastian and the high school shoveler. Everything always works out for me here.
I never had this luck back home. In Mississippi, I seemed to attract the worst of the worst. I attractedhim.Shuddering at the thought, I push my past from my mind.
It doesn’t matter now. I can’t ever go back, not that I’d want to. What I did sealed my fate.
I’ll never forget that night.
Nor everything that led up to it.
The choices I had to make.
But it doesn’t matter now. It’s in the past. I’ve finally gotten comfortable enough here in my new life that I’ve broken free from the paranoia.
When I first moved here, I had a false sense of security being so far from my past. But then, randomly, I’d get the sense I was being watched. For months, I was paranoid thathewas here. But that’s impossible. When nothing ever happened, I chalked it up to my Bostonian guardian angel watching over me.
The billboards of my other angels lead the way to my lot. The New Hope Zoo in the heart of Boston houses my dream job as the secondary zookeeper of the reptile exhibit. With its extensive collection of animals, being the secondary zookeeper keeps me hands-on with my scaly friends, which is more than I could hope for.
With no secondary education, I had to work my way up from maintenance to this position. When Janine, the head reptile zookeeper, saw my enthusiasm for the animals, even just cleaning after them, she mentored me to where I am today.
“Morning, Lizzy,” greets Tom, our head of maintenance. He’s a sweet, elderly man who works here in his retirement. We became friends when I was working in his department.
“Good morning, Tom.” I smile as I stop by him. “Can I convince you to stop by Reptiles today for lunch?” Despite knowing the answer, I ask anyway. As expected, his face scrunches.
“You know I don’t like those snakes and lizards like you do, Lizzy. They give me the creeps.” His apologetic tone has me dropping my teasing one.
