(part one was posted yesterday)

“That sounds… interesting.”

“Not really. There was that time you went skydiving, that was fun. And there were some neat times in college, and a few times before that. Mostly involving cars. You’d be surprised how much of it involves cars lately,” he said. “Back in the day, it was mostly shooing away diseases and scaring off animals. But now it’s pretty much all cars.” He picked up his glass of water, and toasted me. “And buses.”

“Wow,” I said. I had been skydiving, two years ago. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said. “It’s worth it getting some coffee with you. Where’s that mocha?”

I thought for a few seconds, not at all about the mocha. “Wait, if you’re my guardian angel, why am I just now having coffee with you? Haven’t you been around the whole time?”

“Yeah, about that. He doesn’t really like it.”

I stopped, looked around, and for some reason my voice fell. “He? Like the capital H He?”

“Yeah,” the guy sighed, “we’re not really supposed to get involved at all. We’re supposed to stay hidden. He says it’ll give the whole plan away if you all know all about us. I say, all I want is a little whipped cream from time to time, but we’re not supposed to, you know.”

“Wow,” I said. I didn’t understand. “You’ve been with me the whole time? My whole life, I mean? But you’ve never said anything? And I’ve never seen you?”

“Well, He kind of has a point,” the guy replied, gesturing. “I mean, if everyone knew we were here, people would go crazy doing whatever they want, because they know we’d be here to get them out of it. It would kind of upset the balance of whatever, you know?”

“So you’re around, everywhere?” I asked. “Invisible?” He nodded. “And you’re protecting everyone? From everything?” He nodded again, slower this time. I think maybe he was making fun of me. “But wait,” I said. My cognitive senses were returning. “If you’re always around, what’s with bad things happening? People get hit by buses all the time. Why did you save me?”

“I saved you because I was supposed to. Not everybody’s supposed to be saved. Heartless, I know, but that’s the way He seems sometimes.” I looked confused. He looked around for the waiter. “Think about it this way. If we saved everyone all the time, everyone would know we exist, and then you get back into messing up His plan again. You have to make it look like an accident—reconnect a broken hinge here, unlock a door there. ‘Oh, if I had only left a few minutes earlier,’ you all say, ‘think what would have happened.’ Half the time you don’t even know what didn’t hit you. But sometimes you have to get hit. It’s like a slot machine. If everybody won all the time, the casinos would run out of money, and then nobody would win. A lot of people need to lose before anybody at all can win.” The waiter appeared with the coffee, and the guy continued. “And then, of course, you say, well, who decides who wins and who loses? And the answer is, He does. That’s what He does, that’s pretty much all He does. Fortunately, He’s the only one who really has to live with it. The rest of us just all follow Him. Boy, I loved whipped cream.”

I sipped my coffee and thought. “And then there’s suicides,” he continued, “that crazy lot. Sometimes, no matter how much you want to help people, they just aren’t interested. It’s too bad, really. They’re missing out. On whipped cream, if nothing else.”

“But who are you?” I said. “What’s your name?”

“My name?” He smiled. “It’s not really that important. Do you really want to know?”

“Of course I want to know, man. You saved my life, I’m having coffee with you, you’re my guardian angel. The least you could do is tell me your name.”

“My name,” he said, “is,” and then it was like the world cracked open and gooey chocolate and caramel poured out the side. It was like watching a million sunsets with a million naked women you’re in love with, and it was like the best cheeseburger you’ve ever had was eating you with a side of fresh made fries from In and Out Burger. It was like an action movie scene where the effects are so good you realize that wow, the world doesn’t really work the way you thought it did, that things probably exist that you don’t understand. Everybody in earshot fainted with a set of relaxed sighs, and then the guy finished speaking, and everybody sat up and went back to their meals, like nothing had happened, except that everybody, even the slow, annoyed waiter, was wearing a smile.

“But you can call me Ted,” the guy said.

“This is amazing, Ted!” I said. I was rejuvenated. “Ted! Ted, you’re the man! Thanks for everything! For following me around. And saving my life! Thanks!”

“Shhhh,” said Ted. The waiter was giving me looks, and the smile was starting to get strained. “I told you, it’s no big deal. You’re welcome, I’ve been having a fine time.”

“Ted, no Ted, this is awesome. A guardian angel! Have you met God? What is He like?”

“Sarcastic, mostly,” said Ted. “He laughs a lot. A lot of us don’t really get Him, but we all love Him. You kind of have to, it’s Him.”

“Wow.” I was amazed. This was a real-life angel. Sitting with me in the café. Hell! I should ask him about Hell! “Have you ever been to Hell? What is it like?”

“I’ve never been, none of us are really interested in going,” Ted said, sipping his mocha. “I think Michael tried to go once, long time ago, but He talked him out of it. Probably not a very fun place to be. No whipped cream, I’m sure.”

“Ted, this is great. What happens after we die? What’s the meaning of life? Why are people so mean?”

“I’ve never died, so I’m not sure about that first one. Peter handles most of the incoming, my job is really to make sure he doesn’t get too flooded with them. What’s the meaning of life? A lot of us are wondering about that, too, but I’m sure if you ask Him, He’d tell you something reasonably puzzling. He likes to do that, because He knows that nobody will live long enough down here to figure anything out before they die. He’s a little weird like that, but what do I know—He’s the one who’s always laughing about it.” Ted huffed a laugh. “Why are people so mean? It’s free will, bud. Gets you every time.”

“What’s that mean?” The coffee was waking me up. I think. Things were going back to being a little swimmy.

“He thought it would be so great to give it to you all. ‘Let them choose,’ He said. ‘If we never give them the chance to choose, we’ll never know what they would have picked.’ I’m not sure I would have done the same thing, but it’s not like I’ll have the chance, you know? So you all get to pick. And I have to say that from everything I’ve seen, I’m actually proud of you. I mean, say it was even half and half, if 50% of you chose wrong, think what the world would be like. It’s bad, but I don’t think it’s that bad. I don’t know or anything—only He does, of course, but I don’t think it’s that bad. I guess we’ll find out when He sorts it all out. Shouldn’t be that long, I’d guess. Until then, just gotta keep doing what we’re all doing.” Ted sipped his mocha, and finished his whipped cream.

My head was really swimming now. “Ted,” I said, “This is great. I’m glad you’re here. I thought maybe somebody was with me, and now I know, and we…” I looked around the room. “We can…”

“Sorry, man,” said Ted, who stood up as my head drifted towards the table. “It’s His plan, we’re not supposed to mess it up at all. But it was good to chat with you. Stay good. Look both ways next time.”

“Ted,” I said, “what’s the—why’s the—” And then I passed out.

And then I heard a horn blast my ears out. I turned around and this bus was coming right at me. I froze for a second, looked at the grill that was about to connect with my head, and fell backwards onto the pavement as the bus roared past. I jumped up.

“Asshole!” I shouted. I made a mental note to find a phone number for the Metropolitan Transit Authority, and yell at someone about how I should, at the very least, never have to pay for bus fare again.