"You okay honey?"
Collins looked up. A Hispanic man was crouching next to him. He had a bag slung around his shoulder, a pair of drumsticks in his hands and a pickle tub under his arms.
"I'm afraid so," Collins mumbled, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes.
"They didn't get any money did they?"
Collins shook his head. "No, I didn't have any to take. They got all my stuff though - my clothes and books, and my jacket." He opened his eyes. "You missed a sleeve though!" he shouted angrily to the empty alleyway.
The man smiled. He took a rag from his pocket and began to clean off Collins' face. He recoiled. "No, don't. I'm fine." The man frowned slightly, but complied.
"I'm Angel," he introduced himself. Collins noticed his voice was slightly higher pitched than the regular man, and oddly familiar. He looked at him. His eyes were full of concern, his face gentle.
"An Angel, indeed. An angel of the first degree. My friends call me Collins. Tom Collins."
Angel smiled. "Come on, let's go get you fixed up. My apartment is right around the corner." He tucked his drumsticks into his backpack and helped Collins to his feet.
"I can't. My friends are waiting for me--"
"I won't take no for an answer," Angel insisted, looping Collins' arm around his shoulder for support. "Besides, it's Christmas Eve. I actually had a Life Support meeting to go to, but I think I'll skip."
"Life Support?" Collins asked, leaning on Angel's shoulder for help.
"Yeah," he answered looking at him out of the corner of his eye. "It's for people with AIDS. People like me."
Collins' breath caught in his throat. He swallowed. "Me too," he added quietly. Angel's grip on his shoulder tightened, but not painfully. Collins took comfort in it.
Before long, they had reached Angel's apartment. It was a four story run-down building, made of stone with broken windows and an air of cold recluse.
"You live here?" Collins' asked. He couldn't keep the awe out of his voice that someone so kind lived in such a place.
"'Fraid so, sweetie." He didn't sound offended. "I don't make much money. I can barely afford to live here as it is." He briefly left Collins' side to open the door, then returned and helped him through, kicking the door closed behind them. "Besides, half the money I earn goes to charity anyway."
"Charity?" Collins looked sideways at him. "Why?"
"There are so many more out there much less fortunate than I am. They need what little I make more than I do." He smiled a sad sort of smile at him. "At least I have a home and friends. Some don't have either."
"But, what about family? And how do you buy your AZT?"
Angel paused at the foot of the stairs, staring off with a sad look.
"My family disowned me. And I have plenty of friends who don't have AIDS who are all too happy to buy my medication. I always make it a point to repay them though. A kind deed never goes unreturned." He smiled and helped Collins climb the three floors to his apartment. He opened the door, helped Collins through and switched on a light.
Collins gasped. It was beautiful.
Color, in every form imaginable, hung from the room. The walls were painted in slews of reds, greens, blues, yellows, oranges and purples. The couch had ten different colors of fabrics and pillows in polka dots, stripes and zigzags. Throw rugs made of fluffy pink materiel were in front of the couch and a pair of overstuffed armchairs. Scarves were draped on lamps on tables, which were draped in even more scarves. Several painting hung from the walls
"It looks like Mardi gras exploded in here," Collins commented with a smile. Angel giggled, a tinkling laugh that sounded like Christmas bells. Collins frowned slightly. "That laugh..." he trailed off and shook his head.
"What's wrong?" Angel looked at him.
Collins smiled. "Nothing."
Angel shrugged and helped him over to the couch. "Sit here, and I'll bring you a new shirt and a washcloth. You hungry?"
"A bit," he added sheepishly. This Angel, who he had only met roughly twenty minutes ago, had welcomed him into his home without question, and was taking care of him and now feeding him. It was all too surreal. And there was something familiar about him...
"Here you go, honey," Angel said, handing Collins a clean white shirt and a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. He took them gratefully. A glass of milk was standing on the table next to where he was sitting.
"Thank you so much, Angel," Collins beamed. He set the plate down and took off his vest and shirt, surprised that the room wasn't cold at all, but pleasantly warm and heated.
"I'll take those," Angel offered, holding out his hand for the discarded shirts. Collins noticed that Angel's eyes lingered on his bare chest for just a few seconds. He blushed slightly and handed the clothes over, slipping the clean, white undershirt on.
Angel turned and sauntered over to a separate room where he heard a bang, clank, and a rush of water. 'The laundry room,' Collins thought to himself. He reached for the plate of sandwiches and bit into one. It was the best sandwich he had in a long time.
Angel returned with a damp washcloth and a pair of pajama bottoms. "Gimme your jeans and I'll wash those too," he said, tossing the pants onto the couch beside Collins. Collins complied, slipping off his boots and stood.
With a smile, Angel dramatically covered his eyes and looked away as Collins slipped off his jeans and quickly changed into the pants Angel provided. He handed them to Angel when he turned back around, and sat down again as Angel disappeared into the laundry room, his jeans in tow. He quickly finished off the other sandwiches and downed the milk, and was washing off his face as Angel returned.
"Would you prefer to sleep in the guest bedroom?" Angel asked, picking up the plate and glass. Collins, feeling sort of foolish that he was being catered to in such a way, shook his head.
"I'll sleep out here on the couch, if that's okay with you."
"Are you sure?" Angel raised an eyebrow. Collins thought he looked awfully cute when he did that.
"I'm sure," he nodded. Angel shrugged, went to the kitchen and placed the dishes in the dishwasher, and headed for what Collins presumed was his bedroom. He returned with an extra pillow and a fluffy blanket.
"These are for you," he said, handing them to him. He paused for a second, seemed to contemplate something, then quickly bent down and kissed Collins on the cheek. He straightened up, blushing. "Well, it's getting late, so if you don't mind, I'll head off to bed. Goodnight, Collins." And all but ran to his room.
Collins chuckled, lay down, and covered himself with the blanket. He could hear Angel shuffling around in his room, and soon all was quiet, save for the humming of the washing machine. He drifted off to sleep, dreaming of swift kisses and beautiful angels draped in rainbows.
---------------------------------
Collins awoke, blinking in bright sunlight streaming in from an open window. He could smell eggs, bacon, toast and coffee. He sat up slowly, and looked around, forgetting where he was. Then he remembered.
He was going to Mark's and Roger's apartment when he had gotten attacked. A kind stranger, Angel had taken him in, cleaned him up and given his food. Now here he was, sleeping on someone's couch he had only met last night.
He swung his legs over the side and stood, stretching, and closed his eyes. He was still a bit sore, but felt better than last night, that was for sure.
When he opened his eyes again, someone was standing in front of him. He she? was dressed in a white turtleneck and short red coat trimmed with white fluff, like a Santa Claus suit. White and black tiger leggings and matching belt, high heeled boots, and a bow set upon cropped, black hair finished off this rather festive ensemble.
"Angel?" Collins blinked. That hair looked really familiar.
Angel smiled. "Good morning, Collins. Merry Christmas!" She threw her hands in the air and twirled around, letting the ends of her coat fly up around her thighs. "Do you like it?"
Collins just stared. Angel's face fell.
"I knew it, it's too exuberant. You hate it don't y--"
"Shh," Collins stepped forward and pressed a finger to her lips. "You look beautiful."
"Really, sweetie? You think so?" Collins nodded. Angel beamed.
"So...you're a...?"
Angel nodded, a bit apologetically. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you last night, but I didn't want to scare you away or anything while you were still injured."
Collins laughed. "You wouldn't have scared me away, no worries."
She smiled. "Good to know, honey. Anyway, I fixed us breakfast. Come on." She led him over to a table with a plate of eggs, toast and bacon and a bowl of strawberries. "Help yourself. I also went shopping this morning and got some things to bring to your friends."
Collins looked up from his plate of food. "Angel, you really didn't need to do that. I feel so weird taking all this stuff from you when I didn't do anything to deserve it."
She just shrugged. "I'm used to it. I'm always giving stuff away, regardless. My grandmother always said I had a kind inner spirit." She smiled, and bit into a strawberry. "So I figured after breakfast, we could head over to your friend's apartment. I'm dying to meet them."
He laughed and pushed away his empty plate. "Good idea, Angel. I'm sure they'd love to meet you."
"You're clothes are in the laundry room. Go change and we'll head out."
Collins rose from the table and headed off to the laundry room, quickly changing out of Angel's pajama bottoms, and donned his clean jeans, shirt and yellow vest. When he returned to the main room, the kitchen was sparking clean and a pickle tub full of provisions and a bottle of Stoli sat on the table. Angel was perched on the couch, looking at him. Collins frowned.
"What?" Angel looked a little alarmed. Collins chuckled.
"Nothing. It's just...I met a drag queen once, about a year ago at the Life Café. It was Halloween. She looked almost exactly like you, with the short black hair and dark eyes. Except she was dressed as a devil." He laughed. "I won't ever forget that little outfit. I could swear you were the same person."
Angel smiled. "Really?" She stood and motioned to Collins with her head. "Come here for a minute." She led him into her bedroom which was, if even possible, more colorful than the living room.
A vanity covered with different colors of blush, eye shadow, lipstick and eyeliner was against a wall next to a queen sized bed with sheer tie-dye curtain drawings. A closet was opposite a window next to the door. About five wigs stood perched on Styrofoam heads on the vanity as well. A long blonde one, curly brown one, bright red one as short as what Angel was wearing now, and-- Collins stared. A short black one, with red highlights and a pair of horns.
No. Way.
"Come on...I know it's here somewhere..."
Collins' attention was drawn away from the wig to the closet, which Angel was now digging through with vigor. Cloths went flying everywhere. Skirts, blouses, pants, heels, sneakers, jackets, everything, both boy's and girl's clothes.
"Aha!" Angel straightened up and was holding something behind her back. She tip-toed over to Collins and, beaming, showed him what she was holding. A red devil's costume. The exact costume she had worn a year ago, when they had unknowingly met in the darkness of the Life Café's annual Halloween party, and danced until stupid, drunken Mark had gotten him kicked out before he had even learned her name.
"Fuck," Collins smiled slowly. "I never thought I'd see this baby again." He spoke both about the costume and the person before him. He lifted his eyes from the costume to Angel's beautiful chocolate brown eyes, and slowly reached down and took the costume from her, and tossed it on the bed. Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her softly on the lips.
It was chaste at first, but quickly grew more passionate. Angel ran her tongue along Collins' bottom lip, and he opened his mouth, their tongues entwining in a dance more seductive than the one the danced all those years ago.
This went on for several moments longer before Collins broke away. They were both breathless.
"How..." Collins whispered.
"I don't know," Angel replied. "It's fate. Destiny."
He smiled. It was extremely weird that a random person he met in a bar a year ago would somehow be the one to save him from what could have been possible but unlikely death on the cold December streets. It was destiny.
"Come on," Angel said quietly. "We better leave now, it's almost noon. There's a Life Support meeting at one if you want to come."
Collins smiled. "I'd love to. Now come on, let's go meet Mark and Roger." Taking her hand, they left the bedroom, grabbed the bucket full of food and a bottle of alcohol, and left.