The Job

A homeless man on a park bench is offered work

“Glad you like my food. Ya, I give out sandwiches every weekend.

Absolutely, I can tell you about the guy who slept on that bench. The one off the jogging path? There. Near the bridge, where my friend slept when it got cold or rained.

Did I tell ya I about the sandwiches I hand out every Sunday in the park? Okay, good. That’s how I met Tom. I gave him hot chocolate every day last winter. Their first one is the hardest.

One Sunday morning, Tom tells me he had a visitor who offered him a job.

‘That’s great, right?’ I asked because he didn’t look excited.

‘I guess Chef.’

‘Don't you need work?’

‘Booze isn’t free.’

‘What’s the job?’

‘I can’t tell anyone.’

‘Sounds like a wise guy to me,’ I told him. Tom’s forehead wrinkled as he pulled a long knife out from under his shirt. He said the guy had tattoos on his neck, called himself an angel, and only came around after midnight. Gotta have big stones to inject ink onto your apple.

That night, I hung my food truck’s security camera on a tree near Tom’s bench. The next day, the park was full of puddles. I handed Tom an egg and cheese on rye and asked if he had seen the angel.

‘Of course, it was my first day on the job.’

Damn rain, I wanted footage of that guy, I thought to myself.

‘Boss said I had to clean myself up first, but I needed money for that too,' Tom said.

‘How does that work? Cause you don’t.’ I put my hands up in surrender.

‘Ya right,’ I think Tom smirked. “So I went out to find some cash.’

I enjoyed the pink horizon behind a web of leafless trees as Tom told me his story between bites of breakfast.

‘The only way I know how to make money, with my issues, is to take it from someone who has plenty. Before it rained, I headed for Club Row.

Kids danced in and out of bars. The girls went everywhere together, and when they’re in packs, they have beer muscles. I waited for a young guy instead and followed him to an ATM. I watched from across the street while he withdrew cash. Lucky me, he deposited the money clip in his back pocket.’

A few joggers interrupted my visit with Tom to order breakfast. When they left, he handed me his empty coffee cup. I noticed Tom smelled better. At least he had no smell, and he was clean-shaven. He had my full attention.

‘Where’d he go with all that cash?’ I asked.

‘Kid had ear buds in.’ Tom shook his head and sighed, ’Didn’t feel me on his heels.'

'Then the worst thing possible happened. The kid walked into a convenience store, but before I accepted the new position of angel slave, my boss said drinking would be the same as quitting. Bottles and cans, hundreds of them!’

Tom used his hands to paint the horror.

‘I was frozen outside trying to light my only cigarette with shaking fingers when a group of jocks, the type of boys who go everywhere together, barreled through the shop door. I used their bodies to block the sight of liquid virtual reality, all of it chilled to perfection.

At my size, it was easy to sneak around with the giants and get close to the dancing queen. My fingers shook a bit, but I slipped them right into his sagging pants’ pocket and pinched the money clip.’

Tom closed his eyes as he continued.

‘I got as far as the pharmacy shelf, right near the entrance, when the angel walked in. He stood like a mechanical Halloween monster turning its head back and forth, back and forth. The dancer’s chewing gum tumbled out of his mouth.

I tried to walk backwards, but a jock pushed me forward. My boss took me by the collar, found the money, and with two fingers, threw it back to its rightful owner. I’m not sure he had time to duck and miss the flying clip going one hundred miles an hour because the angel pulled me out of the store.

“That is one way to make money," the Lion on my boss's throat snarled at me.

“What’s the other way?” I asked the angel and immediately regretted it.

I felt like I was about to dive into a dumpster. Sample liquor bottles waved from their tiny shelves next to the register as I thought how to ask the loser behind the counter for a job.’

Tom admitted he hadn’t talked to anyone in society for at least a year, except for me.

‘Chef, I seriously considered buying a shot. But then I remembered how a promotion changed my life, and how it felt to buy my first house. The angel didn’t say a word when I walked out an hour later with cash. He just nodded and motioned for me to follow.

We stopped at a 24-hour second-hand shop. It was dimly lit and smelled like mothballs or cereal, depending on where you walked. Anyway, I spent half my wages on new pants and sneakers. My wife bought the Cole Haans for me, but they weren’t built for walking everywhere. They had holes in the soles.’

Tom chuckled and shook his head. I couldn’t help but smile too.

'Hey, what was the dirty job?'

‘Bathrooms Chef.

Anyway, we walked for blocks. Then I saw St. Joseph’s. I always heard they had a nice shelter, but I felt ashamed to walk in. I would’ve had to hide my booze and probably would’ve fought with someone who tried to steal it and gotten us both kicked out.

The angel insisted I admit my problem to a counselor and give a donation. After sharing a short history of myself, I explained that I wanted to turn my life around and handed the middle-aged shrink some money. My hands shook harder than they had all night, but I was proud to pay for her services. I felt like a working stiff again.

The counselor closed our session with unexpected news. I couldn’t leave until I had a shower and a haircut.

Chef, I realized what I missed out on by not walking into St. Joseph’s in the last year. All the volunteers smiled as they handed out soup in mugs and buttered rolls. If you hesitated after one ladle, they just poured another, and every guest left St. Joseph’s with their shoulders back. Just like the other ants outside, shiny, strong, and similar, marching in rows around the city.’

A breakfast rush swarmed my food truck. Tom usually took a walk and turned up later in the afternoon. This time, he sat on the bench in his clean clothes. With his foot up on the other knee, I noticed a crease in his trousers. I’d say he was generally attractive with short hair. My friend watched people walk, skate, and bike around the park. Tom even waved at a baby in a stroller.

A couple of hours later, I was prepping for lunch while Tom spoke to me from a stool outside the door.

‘Anyway, I heard about a kid in the shelter with a THC vape. Five bucks a hit.’

I was ready for Tom’s story to choke.

‘I had just handed over all my cash when a muscular forearm punched into the airspace between the teenage entrepreneur and the sucker, me. My boss shoved the money in my pocket. The angel’s leather coat grumbled as he crossed his arms and leaned in to whisper in my ear, "Is this who you are?"

We walked a dozen blocks before we stopped across the street from an all-night diner. Its neon sign washed the pavement and passersby in red light. The angel didn’t walk with me when the little man lit up, so I spun around after two steps.

I thought I saw breath come from the Eagle tattoo on his neck, but it was probably my boss’s.

“I cannot go in. The target will sense that I am with you.”

“What?”

The leather-bound angel rested his hands on my shoulders and told me what the target looked like. Then he stood under a nearby hotel awning.

I had to slip past smokers huddled together under an overhang at the entrance. The restaurant smelled like stale coffee and artificial pancake syrup. I sat on a stool across from the target’s booth and ordered a cup for myself.

I was at an advantage. The diner had a U-shaped counter with an old soda station down the center. I watched from the opposite side of the counter, just like the angel told me to.

Sleigh bells hung from the door that rang as the boy I tried to rob earlier walked in. The kid didn’t recognize me and wiggled onto a stool facing me. He danced in his seat to the Beach Boys streaming in from an old speaker in the corner. After he ate, disco boy used the restroom, and as he walked back, the target waved with two fingers and tipped his hat. Just as the angel said he would.

The sodatender told the kid his tab was paid for and pointed behind him. The dancer waved, but turned around to the clueless girl and mouthed, “Ew, he's so old.”

The target had grey wavy hair that reached his shoulders, with one side brushed behind his ears. His nose had outgrown his face, and his skin was pocked from acne, but his teeth and his eyes were bright. If the angel hadn’t warned me what the man was going to do, always does, and gets away with, I might’ve disregarded him myself Chef.’

I couldn’t watch Tom’s face while I chopped vegetables, but it was a damp and drizzly afternoon, so I put up a sign. We sat on the cold grill top.

‘What did the guy do?’

‘The target?’

‘No, the dancing kid. He wasn’t flattered.’

‘The target didn’t stop there. He ordered the kid a Shirley Temple. The dancer was mortified and wiggled out of the diner. The target tossed money at his server and followed the kid.

I waited for a couple of minutes before meeting the angel outside. He nodded and we started after the target. My boss said he could see the creep, but I didn’t see anyone familiar on the street.

We walked for several blocks when I realized the world around me was soaked, but we were dry. Water washed out of every gutter pipe. Street drains bubbled with an incoming smoothie of natural and unnatural liquids blended with garbage. The people around me covered their heads, but when I looked up, I saw skyscrapers instead of an umbrella. My doubt cracked.

We stopped on a street of row homes, each one a copy of the other. A breeze chilled my neck as I looked up at the green door above the brick stairs. The towering angel looked down at me, then he turned to the house.

“You want me to break and enter?”

“I cannot go inside.”

“Listen, if this guy knows when you’re around, he’s not human.”

Chef, my withdrawal was catching up to me. At least when I look back, I was definitely losing my patience. The angel kept us dry in the rain, got a low-paid clerk to hire me, but couldn’t handle a lowlife target.

“He was an employee,” my boss admitted. “Like you, and the target’s angel procured him from a young age to tempt a particular subset of humans. They succeeded in eliminating evil people, but the target grew up to reject fundamental laws of nature and Heaven. Before we knew his condition, the Guardians gave the target a sense to feel when an angel was near, even a fallen one.”

I swear Chef, the Bear on the angel’s throat looked into my eyes, and my mind was flooded with courage. So, with the gift of gumption, I proudly opened the unlocked house.’

Tom said it was a miracle that his hands had stopped shaking even though he’d gone hours without booze. I handed my friend a water and let him continue.

'The dark house was free of white noise. I relaxed my shoulders but walked cautiously through the downstairs.

A few hours earlier, I would’ve felt like an alien inside a clean and cared-for home. The living room had designer furniture and a fireplace. The floors creaked as I walked into the dining room, where I saw the large kitchen through an archway. I channeled the mind of a squirrel looking for nuts, aware of any noise. When I heard a cat jump off a shelf, I almost peed my pants. It purred as I walked by.

I slowed my pace on the stairs and only put my full weight on when I felt confident. At the slightest peep of a plank, I changed position and started over. I didn’t hear any movement upstairs, but the angel pointed to this house, so I kept climbing.

I finally heard a thud at the top. I felt sick knowing what the target had done before and was probably doing then.

The angel had told me to enter the second door on the left and to be ready. I pulled my knife from the belt across my shoulder and poised my free hand to open the door.

A memory flashed. I was newly divorced and held a packed bag. I was soon to be free to hit the bar without phone calls and without the arguing afterwards. My daughter stood in the doorway and cried as I drove off.

I understood the target. I knew he would do anything for his fix. My blood boiled at the justification to hurt someone because he was weak to the short-term pleasure.

I won’t tell you what I saw, but I stabbed the target in the back.

The kid was stunned at first but crawled out from under the target and ran past me. When I opened the front door, the angel nodded. Sirens filled the air. A crowd gathered and I lost sight of my boss.'

Tom still comes by on Sundays, but he pays for breakfast. St. Joseph’s hired him. He always adds a tip. Every weekend I ask, and the answer is always the same. Tom hasn’t seen his Angel since.”