The Retiree: December 18, 2013

Jerry HoemB&W.jpg

 

Scene: Department of Angels, Guardian Division, Inspector General's Office.
“Well, Gordy. Good to see you again,” said the Chief Inspector General as Gordy, Guardian Angel, walked in. “I don't think we've talked since your transfer went through. How's it going?”
“Well . . . not so good, Chief. I seem to run into problems wherever I go.”
“I saw your weekly report but there was nothing special there,” said the Chief. “Harry can't be the problem. You're assigned to a doctor now, I hear.”
“A surgeon. And Harry's still involved. I can't seem to get rid of that guy. He keeps turning up. I do my best, and things are going well, and there he is.” Gordy ran his fingers around his halo, feeling the dents he made when he twisted it after Harry's accident with a four-wheeler.
“Have a seat. Harry's being watched by Flo now. How could he be involved?”
“It was his surgery. His tests after that four-wheeler crash showed an abnormality in his heart, and guess who got the job? My guy.” Gordy sat down and chewed on the rim of his halo.
“Relax, Gordy, and tell me how it went. A success, I suppose. I don't remember anything bad on your report.”
“Oh, Harry came through it all right. Touch and go for awhile, but he made it. I didn't put it on the report because I wanted to tough it out. My surgeon, though—he's a physical wreck. I hope he's stable enough to hold a scalpel again.”
“Accident or something?”
“No. Harry's surgery took something like 535 minutes. While they were in there, the surgeon replaced a plastic valve from one of his—and my—earlier incidents, and they had a lot of unexpected problems with the aneurysm they went in to fix. Harry's made of metal and plastic and a pig's heart valve now. As long as his new parts hold out he'll be fine. But the surgeon's a wreck, and I'm assigned to him.”
“Pig's heart valve. They do that, don't they. You're not asking for another transfer, are you?”
“I just wanted you to know, in case my surgeon cuts himself or needs mental treatment of some kind. He goes into laughing and crying jags from time to time. Yesterday he kicked his cat. Nice guy, but he needs a little time to get over Harry.”
“Nobody said it would be easy,” said the Chief. “Let the guy laugh and cry a little. He'll be okay. Take time off. Go snowboarding for a day or so, and remember, I'm always available.”
Gordy secured his halo, stood up and walked to the door. The Chief added a few notes to his file. He recalled the bad days Gordy had, and thought to himself, I'm glad it's his mess.

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