For His eyes are on the ways of man, and He sees all his steps. ~ Job 34:21

Rodney’s round, bright orange Pacer wove its way through thick Wednesday morning traffic. He and his best friend Kim were on their way to Birmingham Community Charter High School. Two guardian angels sat in the back of the old car. Their large, seven-foot frames pushed their knees up to their chests in the cramped space. Rodney preferred them to ride inside the car versus flying over it, as was their wont. He liked to keep an eye on them. He wasn’t sure what they would do, but he wanted to be able to see them, even though they were constantly distracting him. They sat quietly listening to the boys’ conversation.

“You still haven’t told your parents about your new superpower?” asked Kim, surprised.   

“I wouldn’t call it super. Maybe super stinky. It makes me feel crazy. I have to work so hard to keep it together when other people are around. I’m worried someone’s going to have me committed.”

“Yeah, there’s that,” said Kim.

“And then, because of this super stinky power—that I didn’t ask for—I get demons visiting me. And all they want to do is trip me up and get me sent to hell for eternity.”

“I don’t think even Satan himself can get you sent to hell. I’m pretty sure you can’t lose your salvation.”

“Yes, and again, yes,” said Barook loudly from the back seat.

Rodney looked back at Barook and Koram next to him, nodding his angel head. Turning to Kim, he said, “The angels are on your side, as usual. I don’t know why this didn’t happen to you.”

“Maybe because I’d spend all day asking them about heaven, and God, and my purpose here on earth.”

“Yeah, you’re boring like that.”

“Well, what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know. I quit fasting. I guess I’ll just have to pray a lot. Barook wants me to read the Bible more, but I have a lot of schoolwork to do.” With that Rodney threw a look at his back seat.

“I hear you,” said Kim. “On the other hand, Jude Law might come back.”

“He’s not really that scary, though, now that I think about it. He looks so chill, you know? And he hasn’t done me any harm. He seems nice enough.”

Rodney maneuvered his Pacer into a parking space in the school parking lot and the boys made their way to the open hallways where their lockers were. As they picked out the books and papers they would need for their first classes, Rodney noticed Mr. Thaxton, his physics teacher, walking by muttering, “I hate my life.”

“Hey,” Rodney nudged Kim. “See Mr. Thaxton? He’s got a demon buzzard on his shoulder. Bazooka told me yesterday it’s a spirit of depression.”

“Well that explains a lot,” said Kim.

“And you know Sharise?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s got a sweet old lady guardian angel, so that means she’s a Christian.”

“Well, obvi.”

“You knew that?”

“You didn’t?”

“Uh no. I gotta get to wood shop. See you later.”

“Later, man.”

Barook followed Rodney through the throng of high school students toward his first class. In the open hallway that had pillars holding up a roof over a cement floor, Rodney encountered Selefina, the devastatingly pretty Latina from his physics class. She still had that demon snake writhing around her neck and down one arm. Rodney wondered what that signified when she asked him, “Do you have any lunch money? I forgot mine this morning.”

Rodney dug in his pocket and fished out the $5 his mom had left him for the cafeteria lunch today. He handed it over with little hesitation. Selefina was so pretty and Rodney was so easily dazzled. As she grabbed the bill out of his hand, her demon snake hissed and struck at his fingers. Barook’s wing was there instantly to protect Rodney from further harm, but the snake had stung him slightly. “Ow!” Rodney yelled as he reflexively jumped back.

“What?” Selefina asked noncommittally. “Did my nails scratch you?”

“Uh, I guess so,” answered Rodney, trying to cover his blunder. “No prob.”

Selefina walked away without apologizing or thanking him for the money. Rodney was smiling as he watched her go. Barook, forgetting himself for a moment, slipped back into his old vernacular and said, “’Tis a selfish spirit which knows not love. Its bites can sting and eat a dove like you, lad.” 

Rodney shrugged and turned into a large room equipped with table saws, sawhorses, lathes, planers, and all manner of equipment to cut and shape wood. He pulled his project out of its storage locker. It was supposed to be a side table, but it was still woefully crooked and misshapen. Mr. Cordon came over to Rodney’s side.

“What do you think?” the teacher asked. “Do you want to re-measure those legs to see if we can’t get it level?”

“Well, if you think that will help, I’m willing to give it a try. But it didn’t help last week.”

“I know,” sighed the teacher, his long black hair pulled into a loose ponytail behind his head. “But we can’t give up, can we?”

Mr. Cordon’s question wasn’t rhetorical. A big part of him was hoping that Rodney would just give up. He was even willing to give Rodney a D for effort if he would just stop screwing everything up. This semester alone, the kid had ruined his tile saw, a hammer, and a miter box.

“No, we can’t!” said Rodney with enthusiasm as he opened the tape measure, pulled the tape out three feet to begin measuring, and pressed the lever to secure the metal tape. As he let the end go, Rodney realized he hadn’t pressed the lever hard enough. The tape slammed back into its holder, smacking him in the face on its wild ride back in. Mr. Cordon just sighed.