Phoebe & Frank

Phoebe’s POV

While I’m laughing and screaming with joy, I notice the crows up in the oak tree, flapping their wings and scatter into the sky, except for one plump bird. Strange, I think the lone crow is morphing into something else, but I’m not sure because I feel dizzy and then slump to the floor. I feel nothing.

“Come on, Phoebes, time to go home,” says the morphed crow who is now Frank.

“I am home and what the hell are you doing here, Frank?" I’m not ashamed to ask this.

Frank is looking up at me with his hands on his wide hips. I notice I am attached to my slumped body by a silver cord and I’m bobbing along the ceiling like a balloon caught in a draft.

“Just take my hand. I’ll run you through the tunnel.” He thrusts his hand up for me to grasp, then makes a fist when I ignore him.

“What are you talking about? I just won the lottery you big oaf. I’m not going anywhere but Italy and France. Maybe Spain, too.” The words fly out of my mouth without regard to Frank’s feelings. My anger is rising because Frank wants to take away my moment of happiness. “So hit the road because I’m going to be real busy.”

“Phoebe, you’re dead for crying out loud. Let’s get the show on the road,” says Frank rushing his words like he used to do when he got anxious.

“No! You’re dead and since when do you take care of me? What are you?” I punch my arms in the air and try to scissor kick my legs down to the floor without success. “Does God know what you’re trying to do? And if he does, get him on the phone because I’m not going anywhere with you,” I scream back at him as I continue bouncing against the walls and ceiling of the kitchen. Some crappy birthday present this is.

“He’s on vacation and I just got promoted.” Frank says with pride and even folds his arms across his still fat chest.

“Seriously!” I am shocked. “Vacation. God goes on vacation? From what? Puhlease!

“Well, actually, it may be a business trip. I’m not sure.” His chubby face stares at me in defiance, but the left eye begins to twitch.

“Pfff – you’re just screwing with me now, Frank.” I’m pissed and tired of bouncing around like a balloon, but I play along. “For the last time, get your God-friend on the phone so we can straighten this out.”

And then he has the audacity to pull out a cell phone.


Frank’s POV

At last I got promoted to collector. It took almost a year, but I am able to get out more often now and do the job I was meant to do. I had to push a few other people out of the way to get this collection, but I wanted to be the one to take care of Phoebe. So I joined a bunch of crows in this oak tree so I could watch her and be ready to do my job.

Oops – there she goes. Showtime!

“It’s time to come with me, Phoebe,” I say caressing her shoulder.

In that annoying voice of hers she says, “What the hell are you doing here, Frank?”

Sheesh, I have to remember to remain calm when doing this. Now she’s floating up to the ceiling like a blimp. I’m going to win this one. It’s my job. “Just take my hand. I’ll take you though the tunnel.” I try to reach for her, but she keeps floating away.

“Blah blah blah, I just won the lottery, fatso, blah blah blah. Hit the road, I’m too busy.”

That does it. I can’t take it anymore. “Phoebe you’re dead. I’m here to take care of you.” I choke the words out.

“NO! You’re dead and you’re not the boss of me. What are you – some sort of superhero, now? Oh man, now she’s flapping her arms all over the place and trying to run in the air. I didn’t expect this. “Did God send you? Get him on the phone!”

Well, since I haven’t ever seen him, I blurt out, “He’s on vacation.” I almost put my fists on my hips to impersonate Superman, but I resist.

That shut her up for about 10 seconds and then with scorn she shouts, “Seriously!” Then she punctuates almost every word after that. “Vacation. God goes on vacation. From what? You?” This ends with a mean snarl.

You asked for it, lady. “Well, actually, it’s a business trip.” There it is – the rolling of the eyes.

She blows out some air now and with determination and maybe doubt, she spews, “You’re just screwing with me now, Frank. For the last time, get your God-friend on the phone so we can straighten this out.”

I’m at the end of my rope, so I just reach into my pocket for the gadget that will get me out of here.