The Angel Without Wings

The sky was crimson red, with milky white clouds sprawling in every direction. The fiery sun was about to set. I checked my watch which said 5.35. I was getting late for our New Year's Eve dinner. I pictured my wife
sitting alone and staring at the scrumptious candlelit dishes she had planned weeks before. All hell would break lose, I thought.
The traffic was as bad as it could get. Cars were bumper to bumper. Motorcycles, the road's deadliest killer bees, swarmed all around my car, hitting both my side view mirrors. I jumped at the manner the riders glared at me, looking as if they were ready to skin me alive. A day before New Year's, and people still cursed.
The light turned green, making me heave a sigh of relief, until a man in old withered clothes slowly crossed the street. "Get out of the way!" screamed one of the drivers. Cars, both big and small, roared and beeped at this foolish old man who tried to get onto the pavement. What was he thinking? I watched, baffled at what was about to come.
The old man was a few steps to the pedestrian road, when a huge truck screeched to a stop. Just my luck, I was behind the monstrous pick-up. I was not surprised to see a hefty man in overalls stomp out of his vehicle that shook vehemently as if it was reading its owner's mind. The bang of his door jolted me out of my seat.
Rolling down my window, I heard clamorous screams and boisterous complaints filtering through the sound of rustling leaves and swooshing wind. There was a clap of thunder, and the next thing I knew, my right shoulder was soaking wet.
The man whom I presumed was a butcher pointed and barked to the old man like a master to a slave. The old man did not shudder. Instead, he smiled. He must be crazy, I thought. Noticing no nuisance on the old man's countenance, the butcher-looking man pushed him over to the side of the road, leaving him wounded. There came another clap of thunder. The truck zoomed off. Never taking my eyes off the old man, I parked my car close by.
My mother always told me I was the good Samaritan of the family, and that when I saw anyone in trouble, I could not help but come to the rescue. What I was about to do proved that my mother's words were true.
"I believe you need help. I'm Supri." Smiling, I extended my hand out to his.
"Thank you, young man," uttered the old man who was still stuck to the ground. The rain poured harder and I could barely see what surrounded me. My instincts told me to carry the old man to the car, quickly.
"What time is it?" queried the old man, toweling his thin hair dry with a tissue.
"Oh sh--! My wife's going to kill me!" I turned to him and cried, "it's 6:45!"
"Why are you so afraid. Don't worry." His words did not matter. Loraine hated it when I was late. It had happened many times before. She had left me once because of the notion that I never spent time with her. I promised to change and be more available. I was about to break that promise, on New Year's Eve.
"Where shall I drop you, sir? Can I call you, sir?" I glanced for his reaction while turning right on the road.
"You can call me Agus," he replied, grinning wide while giving me a location. "How long have you been married?"
"Loraine and I have been married for two years now. We were childhood sweethearts. I can't imagine life without her," I proudly declared, hoping to clear my conscience for not leaving the office earlier that day. "What about you?" I asked, trying to change the awkward situation.
There was a chuckle in his voice, yet it was warm and comforting. "I once was mesmerized by an angel -- a beautiful angel who taught me how to laugh and cry, how to live and how to love."
"Sounds like a match made in heaven. How did you meet?" I began to wonder, realizing this man did not seem to have a home with the way he was clothed.
"We met during World War II. I was a soldier. I would not fire a gun, so they positioned me at the General's office. My job was to hand-deliver letters to exquisite mansions and estates. She was a daughter of a powerful man. And so I met her."
"And?" I asked, feeling rather optimistic on getting home on time as I craned to peek at the clear sky.
"And that was when I realized that there are angels among us, among people like you and me. It was not her face that I adored. It was her reaction to everything. When someone was angry, she would give her brightest smile. When someone was hungry, she would give her last loaf of bread. It's too bad we never reached the altar."
"Why not?" I asked, sounding unnecessarily astonished.
"You see, her father never approved of us, of me, being a poor man."
I must admit that at that moment, I felt rather fortunate for being the rich one. I cannot imagine having to go through life knowing my life partner was richer than I was. I visualized myself second in a race, inevitably succumbing to Loraine's family's every order. My brow furrowed at the thought of what had happened to this feeble old man, yet that did not stop me from going further.
"Did her father cast her out of the family? Was she publicly ostracized?"
"She won her father over by marrying another man. That ended everything."
His words trailed off in deepened despair.
So much for the angel! I thought.
Agus, upon noticing contempt on my face, revealed yet another shocking episode.
"I left her for her own good. I did not want to complicate her life even more, and so I just left without saying goodbye. But it served all of us good. Her father became a man of understanding, and forgiveness. He no longer looked down on poor people. He no longer believed that the rich deserve the rich, and the poor deserve the poor. You see, I left with my dignity, proving I was never after his money."
The man sitting next to me was in fact the wealthiest man I had ever known. I ruminated in silence all the way of how people drove their life and ended up where they were. There Agus sat, pondering upon the whereabouts of his love, in his torn clothes and second-hand shoes.
I wondered if she was the reason of his fate -- an impoverished citizen who lives on a day-to-day basis, not knowing for sure what happens next.
"Tell me where to turn," I broke the silence, bringing him back to reality.
"Just here please." He gave me a warm smile and left the car saying thank you. I watched him disappear down the narrow lane between two dilapidated buildings.
I started my car when I had a strange feeling that this man needed food. His image came to mind -- a wrinkled face sucked in, revealing thin flesh and protruding bones.
I shivered, yet felt horribly guilty. I checked my watch. I was late anyway.
Reversing my car, I swerved into the lane where Agus was. I found him sitting under a plastic bag, next to a flaming can. I contained my feeling of shock and surprise. "Agus! Why don't you come have dinner with us?"
Wide-eyed, Agus beamed with eyes twinkling like a pair of diamonds. "You are a good man, Supri."
We laughed in the car, talking about what had happened that afternoon. Agus gave a pretty good imitation of the butcher-like fellow. The next thing I knew, I was parking my car in my garage. My heartbeat at that very moment was louder than the engine.
With folded arms and a tapping foot, my wife gawked at me like a hawk, never blinking. I gulped at the sight and mustered courage. I had forgotten about the guest with me.
"Loraine! Honey!" I giggled, pecking her flushed cheek. Loraine did not look at me, instead, she was gaping at the man standing behind me, waiting for an introduction. I forgot about the homeless man.
"Supri, can I talk to you for a second?" Loraine pulled me into the kitchen. "What is that or -- or who is that? Are you crazy taking home a man from the streets? He could be a serial killer!"
"Relax," I cried, "He's a friend of mine. He's a good person with lots of funny stories. You should listen to him." There was a momentary pause.
"Do you hear that?" my wife cried. "What is that ...."
My wife and I followed the sound of the whistle to the living room where we found Supri staring at the top of our Christmas tree. He sang a song without words, music never heard of before, yet somewhat heavenly. Looking right at the top, I found a decorative angel, and what was captivating about it was that its eyes were glittering, like a pair of diamonds.
"Thank you for this gift." Loraine held my hand in silence, and shed a tear of joy.
I felt for the first time, unconditional love deep within my heart.(The  Jakarta Post)