Big Love(7)
“Then why doesn’t he get a different job—one that gives him a rainbow inside?”
“That is a very good question. Lots of people have jobs they don’t like, but they don’t do anything about it. They make up excuses as to why they must keep working. They think they can’t change anything because it scares them, and they worry too much about money.”
“Ah,” Zing said. “Money scares people a lot, I’ve noticed. People always worry about not having enough of it. Then if they do have it, they worry about losing it. I’d rather not have any money. Then I wouldn’t be scared all the time.”
“Wise words,” Clara said.
“Do you have a job that you enjoy?” Zing asked.
“I did. I was a first grade teacher, but I’m retired now. I loved teaching the children to read and learn their sums. Their minds are so wide open at that age. They take such joy in learning. Do you have a job that you like?”
“Yes, I do,” Zing said. She watched out the bus window as the trees and buildings whizzed by—it was all such a blur of color, cars zipping by, and red lights making the bus stop. And there was a lot of horn honking. Zing decided she’d like to learn to drive, but she wouldn’t honk at other cars. She was beginning to understand why the bus driver was so cranky.
“And what do you do, dear?” Clara asked.
Zing turned her attention back to the old woman. “I’m a guardian angel. But I did something bad. I wasn’t paying attention and Nell tripped and fell in a hole and hurt her head and now she’s missing part of her hair because they had to shave it off so they could stitch her up.”
“Well, things like that happen.” Clara patted her hand.
“They do?”
“All the time. Is your friend all right?” Clara asked.
“Yes, she’s getting out of the hospital today.”
“That’s good. And her hair will grow back. It always does.”
The bus lurched to a stop and a woman accompanying a girl with Down Syndrome got on. The two sat down in the seat in front of Zing and Clara. Zing tapped the girl on the shoulder and she turned and smiled at Zing.
“Hi, Penelope,” Zing said.
“Hi, Zing,” the girl said back.
“I’m only here for twenty-three more hours.” She leaned closer to the girl, cupped her hand over her mouth, and secretively whispered, “I goofed pretty bad and I have to make sure my human is all right before I can go back.”
The girl chuckled.
“How are things going with you?” Zing asked.
“Good,” the girl said. “If you stay longer maybe we can go play together.”
“That sounds fun. I’ll look you up if that happens.” Zing sat back in her seat and the woman and girl got off at the next stop.
Clara turned to Zing and asked, “You knew that girl?”
“Uh huh,” Zing said. “We went to school together. She’s an angel, too.”
“She’s an angel?”
“Yep. She’s a teacher angel. All Down Syndrome people are put on earth as teachers.”
“Well. . .” Clara said, sounding like she didn’t know what else to say. “What do they teach?”
“Kindness,” Zing answered. “And patience.”
Clara smiled and settled back into her seat. She pointed out landmarks and gardens as they passed. Soon they entered the Hightower District. The houses were painted all sorts of bright colors and the porches had wicker furniture and pots of red flowers. Clara called them geraniums when Zing asked what they were. She learned about lilac bushes, roses, and hydrangeas. Zing liked them best because they had such large blooms.
After a while, Clara and Zing were the only ones left on the bus. The driver called out the last stop, and they got off. Zing helped Clara down the steps of the bus.
Clara said, “Well, here we are. What’s your friend’s address?”
“I don’t know.” Zing looked around at all the houses. She didn’t recognize any of them. “I thought I knew what her house looked like but there are so many like it.” Zing felt disheartened. “I guess I’ll walk around until I find it.”
Clara looked concerned. “First, let’s go ask Elizabeth. She knows a lot of the people in her neighborhood.”
“How, if she doesn’t ever leave her house?”
Clara whispered behind her hand, “Let’s just say she’s a teensy bit nosy.” She giggled like a naughty schoolgirl.
They walked two blocks from the bus stop until they came to Elizabeth’s house. She was in her front yard pruning a rose bush. Her house and garden were as pretty as Clara had said. It had lots of the flowers Clara had named for her while on the bus. Zing thought everything was so beautiful it was no wonder Elizabeth didn’t want to leave it.