Page 1 of Tell Him




  TELL HIM

  (short story)

  Copyright 2014 Neva Teal

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  - Tell him - the angel said. At least I thought it was an angel. I’m a sceptic and doubter by norm and, although he had white wings and a glow around his head, you can’t just trust people’s statements, can you?

  - Tell him you love him - he insisted. He said his name was Cole.

  - Cole? Angel Cole? That’s just... so dumb.

  - Like your name is so great - he mocked, rolling his brown eyes.

  - I’m Bonny.

  - And you have no idea how stupid that name is in heaven. Pretty popular in hell, though.

  - Bonny - I said, angrily - is a noble, fantastic and normal name.

  - Bonny Bee - he laughed.

  - My mother likes it. And so do I.

  I was mad. Dim-witted angel making fun of my name. How dares he!

  - No matter - he continued. - My business here is, as I stated, your love life; or else, the inexistence of a love life. Bonny Bee is in love with Chuck though not kissing and sitting on a tree.

  Oh God. I’m mortified, my embarrassed face colored in bright red.

  With the purest of rage I said:

  - Is that any of your business?! No, it isn’t. So fly along and go bother a seagull. Or a pigeon.

  - I don’t seem to make myself clear, young girl. I’m not leaving until you declare your undying love for Chuck. Another, by the way, dumb name.

  I stopped breathing for a second which seemed a lifetime, and then shouted:

  - I’m Nine! I’m nine years old.

  - And you love him since you were four. That’s five years already living a “secret love”.

  - I’m N I N E.

  - I hear you. Do you hear me?

  I was speechless. I decided to leave my room and come back later.

  I was fuming. Fuming.

  So I liked Chuck. Big deal! I was not in love with him; I was just... fond of him. That’s all.

  Mother came in while I was pacing across the living room.

  - Bonny?

  - Mom!

  - Help me with the groceries.

  Together we put them away.

  - You’re rather quiet today.

  - Mom. I was thinking... if I paint part of our house wall’s... will you pay me? I mean, you’d save; you’d pay the painters less. And... I’m cheaper. Also, an excellent worker, of course.

  - Of course. An inexpensive worker who prides herself of her highly skilled labor. What else could a mother want?

  - Mom, please...

  - Still thinking about that skate, are you? I’m sorry, I’ve told you, I can’t. There’s no money left for anything else. Here, come and sit.

  - Mom...!

  - Look: this is rent; and these are our monthly utility bills. Then there’s gas and food. And here is my salary. The only income this household has. So, tell me, what do you see?

  I mumbled. Mom insisted.

  - Go on. I know you’re good at math.

  - There’s nothing left after all the expenses are paid...

  - Exactly. I’m sorry Bonny Bee, but if you truly want that skate you’ll just have to figure out a way of buying it yourself. Bonny?

  - I understand...

  - Do you?

  - Yes...

  - All right. Love you. Now go set the table.

  We ate and washed the dishes, then saw a little TV and, finally, went to sleep. Angel Cole wasn’t there. Maybe he left and was bothering God knows who. I feel asleep quickly and slept heavily.

 
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