Sinners and Saints

Sinners and Saints Chapter 51 - Hold Me Now

The legend – the icon – the soul of someone who refused to live by anyone else’s rules but his own – even when it meant his death – is watching cat videos and laughing. 

Really belly-laughing.  It’s sweet and tragic at the same time. 

I slip in and sit next to him.  Awkward.  Unsure. 

Aw – hell. Scared out of my damn mind. 

“Hello, Mr. Marley,” I greet him, “My name is Claire Saint.” 

He pauses his video and takes his headphones off before turning his eyes on me, “Claire Saint,” he says in that famous Jamaican accent, “Saint Claire.  Santa Clara.  You must call me Bob.  I am a simple man and you,” he pauses, studying me, “You are far more than you seem, Claire Saint.” 

Um – ok…  He died in 1981.  Surely the buzz has worn off by now? 

“Ok, Bob,” I answer him, having no idea what he’s talking about. 

“You do not yet see, Claire Saint, but you will,” he smiles at me, “Your sight is clouded by an aching heart.  That is what you have come to talk to me about.” 

Maybe I should just let Bob and Angelito take over here and go home.  They both seem to have a better handle on it all than I do. 

“Not to worry,” he says with another grin, “Your eyes will open and your soul will shine.  This spirit within you cannot be contained.” 

And then he turns back to his video. 

“Complete waste of time,” I sigh to myself and close the door.  Leslie isn’t at her desk, so I open the front door to the polite knock. 

A cherub from Shipping and Receiving (aka the mail room) stands outside with a huge vase full of white roses.  

“For Leslie?” I ask. 

“Yes, ma’am,” she gives me a shy smile, “That Warren may not talk so well but he’s got a poet’s heart.” 

I take them and put them on Leslie’s desk.  No, I don’t peek at the card.  I’ve obviously done too much meddling already.  

There’s a note from Bishop on my chair, “You so owe me.  Going home.  See you soon.” 

“How’s the kiosk working out, Pete?” I ask him. 

“Marvelous,” he actually cracks a smile, “Wish I had asked for it the first day you got here.” 

I take a glance at his ankles.  They’re nearly down to normal. 

“I picked these compression socks up for you,” I tell him, “And I’ve brought out a refrigerator full of water.  Staying hydrated keeps the swelling down too.  Do you like that foot cream?” 

“I’m nearly out,” he tells me, “But Joan found this most amazing thing out.  Did you know there’s a place on the internet that you can order anything from and they ship it right to you?  Humans have become so clever.” 

“Can I ask you something, Pete?” 

“Yes,” he nods and watches me plug the mini-fridge in. 

“Why doesn’t Michael come out here and why don’t you go back there?” I ask him and hand him a bottle of water. 

He scowls back at the doorway, “God put Michael in charge when he left,” he says, “But Jesus put me in charge of His Church before he died.”