The Guardian Angel and the Predator
by Lester L. Weil
I think a lot about God, which is unusual because I don’t believe in him. Now I am not one of those professional atheists running around mocking religion and trying to prove he doesn’t exist. I have a friend who is fanatical on the subject, spells God “G0d” with a zero. Throws a hissy fit if he sees a cross. But me, I just don’t believe in him. But I think about him.
As I walk up my ranch road which runs along the side of a canyon, I usually walk on the side nearest the canyon edge. There is an ant colony using a small hole on that side of the road and about two times out of three I forget and step on them. And then I usually wonder if that mirrors God’s relationship to man, assuming He exists. Maybe He isn’t paying attention and just forgets to steer that tornado out of the path of towns. Maybe to Him the people on Earth are like the ants on my road are to me.
I think I’d like to believe in him and especially in the concept of hell. When I read of evil men committing atrocities seemingly without consequences, I hope there is a hell waiting for them. But, sadly, I don’t think there is. Given that, then it is strange that I halfway believe in Karma and try to live my life accordingly. The “do unto others” rule is a pretty good one that you can’t go wrong with. If nothing else, you can at least feel good about yourself.
So why should you care about all this? You don’t have to, but it puts what I’m about to relate in context. I’ve almost always accepted that you can believe what someone says if it goes against their beliefs and prejudices, although you have to watch carefully for half-truths that are misleading. Politicians and newspapers have developed the “half-truth that tells a lie” technique into an art form.
The story I’m about to relate is straightforward and not intended to deceive. And if the dialogue is not exactly word for word, it contains the true essence of the conversation.
* * *
So I was walking up the half mile to unlock the ranch gate for the Fed Ex delivery coming that afternoon. As I said, my ranch road runs along the edge of the canyon that bounds my property to the south before it bends and heads up a hill to the gate. When I made the turn, I saw a man coming down my road. My dog, instead of barking, ran to him and licked his hand, wagging her tail. This was strange, because Cassie always barks at strangers. Actually, she also barks at people she knows, I think because it’s fun for her and shows that she is doing her job as a watchdog.
“Can I help you?” My standard question for someone who is where they shouldn’t be, like on my land.
“No, sir, but I can help you.”
“Well, I don’t need whatever you’re selling, and if you’re looking for work, I’m too poor to hire anybody. So, goodbye. Nice meeting you. And please close the gate on your way out. Also note the No Trespassing sign.” Here I have to admit that I’m getting a bit crotchety in my old age, especially when someone is trespassing. I was also a bit miffed to think I might have forgotten to lock the gate.
He just stood there for a moment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see the sign, because I didn’t come through the gate.”
“Well then, you should know that it’s poor etiquette to crawl through my fence.”
“Sir, I am sorry if I have done a wrong here. But I am not a salesman. I am here to help you, but I don’t require a wage.”
“If you’re running for some kind of office you can just leave now. I don’t vote. It just encourages the politicians, and they’re all crooks. Please close the gate on your way out.”
Now I know I was maybe being a little rude, and I am usually polite to everyone, but politicians irk me something fierce and bring out the worst in me. Biggest leeches and worst liars in the known universe. I believe if we chose our office holders randomly from voter roles we’d end up with a more competent government
“I’m sorry, sir, but I am not a salesman, nor a politician, and I’m not looking for work. I have a job, and that is being a guardian angel. And I have been assigned to you today.”
Crackpot. Just what I needed. I stared at him for a moment. Didn’t look dangerous but you never can tell. But if you live on a ranch where mountain lions have been known to walk through the front yard in the middle of the day, you always carry a pistol. So I wasn’t too worried. I just had to humor him up the road and out of the gate.
“I’m just on my way to unlock the gate,” I said and started walking up the road. He tagged along as I had hoped. “I didn’t know I had a guardian angel. Where were you when I broke my leg a couple of years ago?”
“Well, we can’t protect you from everything, and climbing where you were on that rickety ladder was a rather unwise thing to do.”
And with that I had to agree, though I didn’t know how he knew anything about it. As we walked, he suddenly moved ahead, picked up a rattlesnake and moved it away from the road. The snake didn’t even rattle but just slithered away.
“You don’t have to protect me from rattlesnakes.”
“I wasn’t. I was protecting him from you.”
“Hmmph.”
When we reached the gate, I unlocked the chain and held the gate open so he could go out.
“Look. I appreciate the offer and all, but I really don’t need a guardian angel. But tell you what: a friend of mine has a boy over in Afghanistan. Why don’t you go look after him. He’s a good boy and could use the looking-after.”
He closed his eyes a moment. “He’s already got someone.”
“Well... Good to hear.” There was an awkward pause. He just stood there and didn’t offer to go out of the gate. After a moment, I said, “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t need — nor want, for that matter — a guardian angel. So you can just go look after someone else. I’m getting along just fine and dandy.”
He still just stood there.
“Besides, if you are my guardian angel, how come I can see you? I thought guardian angels weren’t seen but sat on your shoulder or something like that.” Partly to humor him, I continued: “But before you go, maybe you can answer a question for me. Is there really and truly a God up there looking out for mankind, or at least paying attention?”
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But before he could answer, we looked up to see a white Predator drone, which the Border Patrol guys were currently using to spy on the border. It had apparently lost power and was gliding in our direction. As we watched it head right for us, my visitor sort of lifted his hands in the air, and it wobbled a bit, gained enough altitude to sail down the hill and across the canyon. We watched it crash over there instead of on top of us.
I was struck dumb by what had just happened.
“Well. Be seeing you,” he said. And he went through the gate and started walking toward town.
Recovering from my shock, I called after him: “Did that just happen? Did you do that?”
“It’s my job, like I told you.”
After a pause I called: “How do you decide what to prevent and what not to?”
He stopped and thought for a moment and said, “I just go where I’m told, although sometimes it does seem to be rather random.”
Shaking my head and half not believing what just happened, I shut the gate, whistled for Cassie and started back toward the house. Then it struck me that with the downed Predator, the Feds were going to be crawling all over this area. So I turned around and locked the gate. FedEx would just have to leave the package at the gate.
* * *
So there you have it. Crazy crackpot or guardian angel? Did he divert the drone or was there just some odd wind current that lifted it across the canyon? So I still didn’t know if there is a God. But if what I had experienced was not an illusion, then the universe is strange enough that there just might be.
* * *
Note: Although it did not make the news, a few years ago a Predator drone did crash just across the canyon from where I live. As for guardian angels...
Copyright © 2022 by Lester L. Weil
