Chapter Three
Ella woke after the weirdest dream. At least it wasn't another nightmare about Pete, but imaging talking with a wannabe knight and somehow Rae Rae's raccoon brother Archangel Michael was more disturbing in a different way. If her imagination was running that wild, Ella probably wasn't actually recovering from the Pete incident as she should be.
When she opened her eyes, she was aware of two things immediately: she'd passed out on her couch and something was nestled on her stomach, which couldn't be Margaret cause Margaret wasn't a cuddler.
Confused, Ella blinked down and that mapache she'd thought she'd dreamed up was actually on top of her. He was on her belly but lying on his back with all his legs splayed out and, oh boy, her dream was real and Izzy…no apparently St. Michael was definitely a boy and this was so awkward and weird. Trying not to tear up at the fact she was still having pretty intense hallucinations or, at least, the part where Michael spoke and had wings had to be in her head, Ella poked at his shoulder.
"Uh, Michael?"
He blinked awake and a long, pink tongue licked at his snout. "Five more minutes, wench. I do not have to get to the battlefield yet."
He rolled over a bit, and then that made the angle worse. Ella yelped, sat up, and let him fall to the floor.
"Michael! Dude! I can see all the things."
He squeaked indignantly and hopped to all fours. "Lady Ella? Oh…I was dreaming."
"Oh, I can tell, and I am not a wench."
"Of course not. You are a fine lady who loves my father and helped heal my ear. But I was still dreaming. Do you have need of me?"
"I need you to, you know, not just splay out your legs and I know our first stop today."
"I am to go out?"
"Oh yeah, I bet one of Margaret's harnesses will fit. You are pretty skinny from spending however long fighting off the other raccoons for food." She sat up and rubbed at her eyes. Perfect, they'd fallen asleep together after she'd started casting vids to her TV from Wobbletube to explain planes and cars and why Michael couldn't just try and attack her television or computer for "magic." They'd spent a few hours trying to catch him up some to the modern world, though he was only kind of getting it. She couldn't completely blame him. If she just woke up in the year 3000—raccoon or not—Ella would be really confused too. "But we need to get you a wardrobe, buddy."
"I have fur. Also, I have merely been rendered a raccoon…somehow not sure how…so I am surely no mangey beast." His little, lower jaw trembled with his insult.
"Right, well, dude, you're free balling now and we need to get clothes. There's a pet shop not far from here. They let me bring in Margaret for things and when I need to pick up more Grubbly Farms stuff…do you think they make raccoon feed?"
"I eat real food."
"Right, okay, then I will have to grocery shop and do more Google. Can't feed you anything that might upset your tummy." She frowned. "Then again, you've been living I assume on leftover chines, pizza crusts, and beer so you probably can eat anything I do."
As if on cue, the Sword of God's tummy rumbled. "Yes, that is true. Can we perchance go by a tavern? I am rather famished."
"I am very sure you can't go to a restaurant. Well, I do know one that we can go to tonight cause it's more a bar and my friend owns it and they serve bar food and appetizers so…normally? Raccoons indoors are a big no no."
"Why and I'm an angel," he repeated, sprouting his tiny grey wings.
She gaped at him. Fuck if she wasn't having the weirdest breakdown. "Yeah, well, you look like a raccoon, buddy, and they carry diseases and are wild animals in California. I know people at the pet shop and have a friend who runs a thrift shop around here too. They'll look the other way if you're on the leash. But at Lux, yeah, I know my bud will hate it but he'd let me do it. So, you help me shop and get you stuff until we figure out how to fix you—"
"Yes, I would very much like to be me again. While I am adorable and fluffy, I am not very intimidating."
His whiskers twitched, and Ella chuckled. No, this poor, bedraggled mapache was the last thing from intimidating. No one could look at him and think he was terrifying wild. Especially with the fur around his right ear a bit red from the blood and her doing her best to mop it up.
"No, but we'll get supplies and fed, and then we'll figure out how to make you a real angel."
"I am a real angel."
"Right, um a man-shaped angel."
He nodded and looked at his lap. Ella groaned. "Yes, that would be better. I feel a bit lacking currently."
Ella tossed a pillow at him. "Dude, no. Be good. I'm going to get showered real fast and if you wanna get cleaned up I can supervise after so Margaret doesn't murder you."
"Is the Hen Margaret evil?"
"No! She's super nice, but I don't know if she's necessarily nice to raccoons." Ella sighed. "Okay, so she did totally eat Bob."
Michael squeaked loudly and his tail grew huge and puffy. "You have fed other visitors to her before?"
"No! He was my box turtle…he and Margaret had differences of opinion. Uh, he saw himself as alive and she saw him as…"
"A snack!" Michael bore his tiny teeth. "I am no snack, M'Lady."
"No, but…look I slept in my two-day old sweats. I need to be less gross and we'll go grab you clothes, k?"
Ella didn't give him time to distract her with a tangent before grabbing her phone and hurrying to her bathroom. She shut the door behind her, nudged Margaret out of the shower/tub, and started up the water. Yawning, she checked her cell and gaped at the amount of notifications on her Wobble app. Last night, she'd taken a picture apparently of Michael with the little alien gripped to his chest and him asleep. It had been simply titled "My mapache visitor," and had over 5000 likes. It was as popular now as some of her lesser watched pool floaty vids (and honestly girl had to pay off student loans somehow).
Before she shoved off her clothes, Ella thumbed through the comments and gaped at how many not just emojis or likes she had but comments gushing about how cute the mapache was. He hadn't exactly gone viral but he was definitely popular.
Weird.
At least he was real. Clearly, she had had a psychotic break (wouldn't be the first time) since Pete. He was a real raccoon, that much Wobble proved since others could see and like him. The wings and the talking were just all in her head.
Like Rae Rae.
Sighing, Ella set her phone carefully on the sink lid, and got undressed. She'd worry about the hallucination parts of Michael later. Right now, she had to get him dressed because there was no way she was having a naked, talking raccoon in her place.
Some things were too weird even for her.
Ella had decided that she didn't have the spoons yet to deal with Michael meeting Margaret. After she'd gotten ready for errands, she'd secreted Margaret in her bedroom in Margaret's cage, and then let the door to the bathroom open to Michael to do whatever he had to do to get ready. He'd seemed to make do with climbing up to the sink and using its basin to get cleaned up. Well, at least once she'd walked in after his request for help, she noticed the half full sink and some raccoon fur in it. However, he was semi-confused by the "privy" as he called it. That made sense. Outhouses were probably intense tech for him back in the motherloving Crusades and well he was obviously mortal for now, and the needs of a raccoon body were probably a lot.
She was glad he'd been able to ahem make what he'd needed to make and shut the lid, but he was frowning up at her after he'd called her in for help.
"What's up?"
He quirked his head at her. "There is no sawdust."
"Um?"
"The privy. I had seen others use accommodations. I have walked past the makeshift ones in the fields and even a few within well appointed Cathedrals. There is no dust or dirt below. It goes in the water, but that cannot be sustainable over time. It is not deep enough!"
"Right!" She said, nodding. "It's a toilet, dude. It flushes."
"I do not understand."
"Couldn't you have been from like the 1900s at least? There's a millon things you missed."
"I am immortal but, yes, it is vexing to have lost a thousand years. I apologize, M'Lady."
Then he did that courtly bow thing of his and Ella felt bad for making him feel awkward in the first place. Note to self, Michael had some killer puppy—erm raccoon—eyes going on.
"Sorry, I just…it's not hard," she said, reaching over and pushing the handle down. As always, the toilet rumbled as it flushed.
Michael's fur poofed. "So, this is not magic, correct?"
"This is plumbing. But, yeah, as long as you have a mortal body, you can use this. Just let me know and I'll make sure Margaret's in my room or the tub so you two can keep to your own space. But yeah just like a privy, I guess, but the extra step is the flush the handle…the once. You don't need to do it over and over."
"I would never."
"Right, sure. Okay, dude," she said, pulling up Margaret's neon pink harness and leash. "This is one of her newest ones. I think it should fit you okay, but we'll get you one and tags of your own when we get to the pet store."
"I am not your pet. We are equals."
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well the state of California definitely doesn't think that. Michael, just let me do this. It'll be hard enough to smuggle you places anyway."
"I am your superior, technically, human," he sniffed. "Also pink is for wenches."
Ella tried not to curse at him. He was, after all, experiencing a traumatic day or so. It had to hurt having your ear almost gnawed off. "Pink is what I have, also that's really sexist."
"It is not. It is fact. I am His Sword. I must always been my most manly."
"Put the harness on, dude, or I'll shut the door and see if you can open the knob."
"I do not deserve solitary confinement for fact," he huffed, even as he held up his arms. Ella made short work of getting him strapped in and then connecting the leash. She had opted also to use a huge purse for herself today. It was empty but it would make it easy to sneak him in an Uber later to Lux. "I do not know if this is very fetching."
Ella shook her head. "I don't know what the height of raccoon fashion is, Michael, but just go with it. You ready?"
"I suppose so."
"Good," she chirped, waiting for him to descend from the toilet and march into the hall. "Now, let's get you clothes."
"Yes, I have heard those make the man after all."
The pet shop was both a boon and a bust.
It was a boon because Michael decided he loved toys, and well, Ella loved toys too and she felt so bad for him that it was kind of hard to deny him. Also, she was pretty sure if he were just a regular angel (and wasn't that a crazy statement), he wouldn't want to collect squeaky hamburgers and kong toys to chew and be chasing jingly tennis balls. She had no idea if God was punishing him or if another god or demon or something had cursed him or what…but it seemed pretty clear that for as much as Michael kept reminding her that he was The Angel of Fear, Defender of the Faith…etc., that he was also very much a raccoon too.
So, they'd bought a lot of loot for him, and at least that would keep him busy during they day not investigating and getting freaked out by every electronic device she owned. However, clothes hadn't really been what they needed at the pet shop. After all they were more like long shirts or adapted items for dogs.
Honestly, to avoid another weirdass wake up, Ella needed Michael to have pants.
It was why she was schlepping a huge bag of toys with her over one shoulder while walking Michael a few blocks over to the thrift shop, Boogie Boogaloo, that her friend, Jessica owned. When they walked through the door together, she was relieved that it was just her friend at the register and that, this early in the morning, they had the run of the store. She could not deal right now with some Karen going loca over a raccoon in the store.
After all, Michael was perfectly well behaved. He hadn't bitten or tried to do anything but be polite with everyone at Arfs and Stuff.
As they stepped in together, Jessica's eyes widened. "Que tal, chica. Where'd the mapache come from?"
Michael, being Michael, stood up on his hind legs and bowed forward. He started to talk, but as Ella had feared and found out at the pet shop, no one understood him. Just her. But while he chittered to Jessica, Ella heard Michael say:
"Good morn, Lady Jessica. Any friend of the esteemed Lady Ella is a friend of mine."
Then he got back to all fours and sat attentively, waiting for Ella to tell him what to do.
Jessica circled around the desk and knelt down next to him. "He's very cute. Not sure he's legal…"
"Neither is Margaret in the city. What can I say? I'm a rebel."
Her friend smiled broadly. "Can I pet him?"
Ella looked to Michael. "What do you say?"
He considered that and nodded. Jessica seemed shocked but then laughed it off.
"Amazing, if I didn't know better, I'd say he understood. What a cool trick."
"Right, yeah, like that," Ella said.
Michael inclined his head and waited for Jessica to scritch him. She scratched his left ear and his tongue definitely lolled out. "This is nice."
Ella chuckled under her breath. "Be careful of the right one. He lost a fight."
Michael looked up at her and chittered indignantly. "I am His Sword! I do not lose a fight. Clearly, that was a demonic raccoon."
"Sure, totally," Ella said, trying to ignore the weird look Jessica shot her when, technically, Ella was answering no one. She coughed. "Uh, anyway, Jess we need to get him some clothes. I was thinking maybe baby onesies? Is there a good toddler/baby section?"
Her friend stood and gestured to the back left. "Totally and also, that's going to be soooo cute. You need to take tons of pictures of him. He should get a Wobbletube or his own page. You see cute cat and dog and stuff pics all the time."
"But I am an angel," Michael said.
Jessica ignored him as she clearly couldn't "hear" him. "Anyway, knock yourself out. But if he pees on the floor, you are getting it up, Ella."
She tugged at the leash a bit as her eyes grew wide. "Oh, no, we covered that before he left. He's potty trained."
"Well aren't you clever."
Michael shrugged as he followed her. "Actually, I very much am."
She led him back to the infants and toddlers' section and sat him up on a small shelf. "So, what do you think? Any outfits speak to you?"
"These are for children. I am not a child. I am a warrior of God."
"Yeah, well they don't sell toddler armor."
"They should."
"Yeah, that's so never catching on." She said gesturing to a nice Bob the Builder onesie. "What about that? It covers, you know, everything."
"So does my fur."
"Dude, it so doesn't. I'm gonna help you, but I can't just hang out with a naked angel all day. That's…weird."
"Humans were naked in the Garden…before Samael literally fucked it all up."
"Yeah, figured a forbidden fruit was more a metaphor."
Michael rolled his eyes. "As my idiot twin has bragged since, apparently more like a banana. Anyway, Lady Ella, I am hardly a child."
She regarded him. He was small, excitable, and had bought half the toys at Arfs and Stuff. Michael not being a child or child-like right now was highly debatable.
"You are naked. Dog clothes don't work. Pick some onesies. I'll go look for little jeans and pants that'll work too, okay?"
"It is unbecoming."
"Yesterday you were completely naked, shivering in a dumpster, being the butt monkey of a herd of raccoons. This is a step up."
"You do not take me seriously."
Ella decided not to go with her initial reply which was that Michael was impossible to take seriously currently. Instead she sighed. "Michael, I want to help you, I do…but I just can't do it with your junk hanging out. Help me help you. Pick out some clothes, k?"
That made him stop and look up at her, big eyes blinking. "You sound harried. I did not wish to burden you, M'Lady."
"You're not a burden…much." The fact she was going even crazier was bad, but if anything, having Michael fall asleep on her had given her peace while sleeping. It had been the first time in weeks she hadn't woken up screaming over Pete. "I just…meet me halfway, please?"
He gave her a little bow again. "Of course, Lady Ella. I will find the preferred sartorial choices amongst such a selection."
With that, he stood up and started pawing through the collection of onesies. She figured he'd be fine and she went over to the next aisle to find toddler pants and maybe even one little baby suit…just in case they had to take him to church and get priests to help after all. It would probably go better if he looked as little like a wild animal as possible.
When she returned twenty minutes later with jeans and sweatpants and a cute little suit with bow tie for him as well as a handful of t-shirts, she had found that "I'm not a child" St. Michael had curated a pile of onesies for himself after all.
And every single one had some Disney character on them. There was a Winnie the Pooh, a couple Buzz Lightyears, some of just classic Mickey, and a Stitch among his pile. Since he couldn't possibly remember that, assuming in his right body and mind Michael would even give a shit about Disney, Ella was curious as to why and how he'd picked them.
"Do you like those?"
"They are nice! They are very soft but also colorful. I approve."
She nodded, realizing why he'd chosen them, the bright primaries and designs of the characters clearly had caught his attention. "Great, let's pick one for now and you can wear it to Lux."
"That is fair," he said, eagerly letting her take Margaret's harness of him.
The archangel (mostly) waited patiently as she slipped on the classic Mickey Mouse onesie and then the red harness he'd insisted on at the store over him. The entire ensemble was completed with his fish-shaped name tag that said "Michael."
Ella clapped after. "Much better. All covered and dude, you're really cute."
Michael nodded brusquely. "Of course, I am always cute."
She groaned. Rae Rae was very head strong but wasn't so up her own butt. If she had been, there was no way the ghost—apparently angel all along—and Ella would have gotten along. However, it seemed God's Sword had a very high opinion of himself. Well, they'd work on that. After all, he wasn't wrong. In this case, he was a very adorable mapache.
Thinking of Jessica's suggestion and her app still going bonkers with notifications and likes, Ella pulled out her phone. "Wait a minute, I have an idea!"
"That is another magic…electrical box."
"It's a phone, does what the TV does but a fuck ton more. I am going to take a picture of you—"
"But Lady Ella, it takes hours to paint a portrait if not days."
"Trust me, this is instant."
Michael's little whiskers twitched. "What a marvelous century this is."
"Yeah, sure, thanks Zuckerberg and Bezos and stuff," she said sarcastically. "Anyway, just stand up and give me a pose. I am going to set you up with a Wobble of your own."
"The social medias where I get likes that do not actually do anything?"
"Yep," she said registering a new account. "Now, we have two choices: Michael the Mapache or Rascal Raccoon."
"I am not Rascal."
"I know but alliteration is fun, and it might sound less crazy if I don't keep calling you after an archangel."
"I am the best of the archangels," he objected, even as he stood up and waved with one paw.
"Yes, but…yeah Rascal. That'll be nice. It'll be your online alias…and got it. Now time for your first photo." She squatted down to get the best angle. "Too bad with all those clothes on you can't get your wings out. They'd be—"
Michael rolled his shoulders and—somehow—his tiny, grey wings exploded out through his onesie and harness with no problem, as if the fabric was not there at all. "It is fine. We can always summon our wings. We are, after all, quite magical. We do not need electricity for miracles."
"I feel that's you being elitist, dude."
"Should I put them back?"
She shook her head. "They'll think I photoshopped you. It'll be your thing, that extra edge for your brand."
"I do not know what a brand is."
"You will," she said, clicking pics of him so she'd have options for his first post. "Trust me, Lady Ella needs to pay off some student loans and I think this is gonna work way better than me and pool floaties."
He kept posing, his wings flapping occasionally to keep him balanced. "I do not understand. What do you do with pool floaties to earn the coin of the realm?"
"Ummm, nevermind, let's just go pay now." She said, standing up and posting "Rascal's" first pic.
It was already dinging with likes by the time she was herding him back up to the register. Michael walked obediently beside her after shunting away his wings.
"You are a woman of many mysteries and delights, aren't you, M'Lady?"
"I plead the Fifth, dude."
"I do not know what that is."
"It means stop asking dumbass questions, Rascal."
"I am Michael."
She laughed as she set their collected clothing loot on the checkout shelf. "Dude, way my phone is already blowing up? You're Rascal now."
