At Least They're Committed

The bell rings and I know who it is and so I fling open the door and as they pull back the screen and step toward me I don’t bother with “Hello” — even though I am surprised and delighted to see Rafe has joined Gabriel on this morning’s visit — and I instead push my wrists at them. “Look! Pre-stigmata!” Gabriel takes my wrists as Rafe takes a quick peek, squeezes past and heads for the fridge and I tell him to help himself. Gabriel runs his thumbs over the dot of broken skin on my right wrist and the blood blister on my left. “I think you’ll live,” he quips. “Good that you know it’s the wrists and not the palms, though.” Rafe nods his head, munching on a cold hot dog.

“Mad at me?” Gabriel asks. Oh, hell, no, I tell him. “I appreciate the whole wrath thing, but it’s not really working out like that lately. I don’t think I’m supposed to be here because people can just, just, do whatever and nothing happens.”

Gabriel drops my hands and grabs a beer from the cooler. “Mmmm!” Rafe says between bites. “Beer!” and he grabs one himself. What the hell. I grab one, too.

“Evidently you are because you’re still here,” Gabriel says. “Feeling at all better?”

“No, well, yeah. Had a nice walk. Helped.”

“Damn those humans being all human and shit,” Rafe chimes in. “Did he even apologize?”

“Nope. Got defensive, actually.”

Gabriel chuckles and we plop in various positions around the living room. Rafe is cleaned up today, a break from his work on the streets. Always, always nice when he comes by.

“I need to stop holding people in such high esteem. I need to figure out that ‘we’re all fallible’ and all that bullshit.”

“You need to tell him what you were told leading up to the Dec. 20 incident,” Gabriel says and Rafe skews his face and shakes his head. I’m with Rafe.

“Nah. That’d be awkward and I don’t even know that anyone even believes that anymore.” I smile. “Tempting, though.”

There’s a non-awkward silence, more like a sigh, and Rafe jumps to his feet. “Hey! Let’s make a ‘Trip’s Pity Party Playlist’ just for the hell of it!”

Gabriel and I follow, heading to the computer. “Righto!” I say. “Let’s get it going with Garbage’s ‘Special!’”

“Yes! Do let’s!” Gabriel chimes. “And what’s next . . . . ?”