The Edge of Heaven

By Bill Combs

Their lives are shattered and a demon army is coming for them. -----Mike and Leigh Conley have the world on a string, young, gorgeous and madly in love, until one day their life spins out of control. They're in for the fight of their lives. An ex-Hollywood stuntman and a mischievous guardian angel join with their friends and family to get them through. If they lose, they don't lose alone. If they win, they don't win alone. Their lives and their souls are up for grabs. Their faith is the key.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bill Combs
• Release date: May 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393329299

Book preview

Preface

Bear tracks in the sand strongly suggest the near and recent presence of a bear. Even though we may not see one, we readily accept the physical evidence that a bear made them. Of good and evil, however, even though the tracks are all around us, we tend to disbelieve and discount forces that we cannot see. The wind blows, its effects are seen but what causes it to blow? Natural forces such as temperature, humidity, gravitational pull and topography generate the wind. Like the wind, there are unseen forces behind the good and the evil that exists on the earth and in the unseen realms.

If a man or woman exhibits an act of kindness, we say that it is good. If a man or woman intentionally harms another we say that is bad. What causes good and bad? What is the origin of good and evil? Are there forces that are inherently good or inherently evil? Do forces of light and forces of darkness exist? I believe so.

Humans believe almost every conceivable combination of philosophical thought concerning spirituality across a wide-ranging spectrum from zero supernatural existence to full belief in God and also the devil. Either through outright hostility or reasoned rejection, many men and women deny the existence of a Creator. Often the creation role is assigned to the cosmic energy of the cold cosmos originating from the Big Bang that captures many minds. Anyone who’s ever tried restoring an old car has yet to see one fully assemble itself or even the glove box move independently over a few years’ time, so it’s a stretch to imagine even over a million or billion years the thing would be properly assembled with the cigarette lighter in the right place.

The evidence of good and evil surrounds us and it is easily seen. Watch any newsfeed for thirty minutes and undoubtedly you’d recognize and accept the presence of evil. Good doesn’t quite get the corresponding airtime. For that, simply open your eyes. As small an act as someone giving up their seat to an elder or a policeman running toward the shooting, good is everywhere. In an awesome sunset, the brilliant yellow of a dandelion, a fledgling colt learning to walk, to a million simple acts of human kindness, good is what makes the world go round.

Honesty/Dishonesty, Love/Hate, Loyalty/Betrayal are all two sides of the same coin that we are quite familiar with. If we acknowledge the evidence of good and evil it is then logical to assume that the forces behind them also exist. I believe they do exist whether we acknowledge them or not.

The following narrative illuminates the struggle between good and evil that we are able to perceive and also offers, I hope, an entertaining and revealing look behind the curtain.

The Lord said to Satan, ‘Where have you come from?’, Satan answered the Lord, ‘From roaming through the earth and going back and forth in it.’ Job 1:7

The Edge of Heaven

Fall 2016, Pismo Beach, California

I remember the look in my Dad’s eyes. He kept it hidden the best he could but if you saw him from a distance sitting in the yard alone, it was there, a mere flicker before he noticed you, a ray of stinging truth that he adroitly concealed with a pleasant smile. In his seventies then, diabetes had robbed him of his functional eyesight and he couldn’t work any longer. He was the best man I’ve ever known, ten times the man I’ll ever be, part of America’s Greatest Generation. Resolute and kind, he earnestly loved his wife and his children, all seven of them. Yet there he was, a thoroughly good man, needing only a few more years of work to get out of debt but it was denied him. He didn’t need it handed to him. He had never had anything handed to him.

His dream of being financially in the black loomed just over the horizon like a tall ship slowly drifting away. I didn’t understand the weight of the burdens he carried then but I do now. That look of profound resignation trimmed with alien bitterness framed the eyes and face of a determinedly jovial God-fearing man. He was nearly helpless, kicked to the curb and there wasn’t a thing he could do. To a man of his generation, his worth and identity had been stripped away. To him and to men and women like him, utility defines them. Despite all his prayers, his situation was fixed, stamped and sealed, a new tragic normal.

That’s the look I carried quite recently. Though still in the ring futilely swinging away, my optimism and its inherent grace had been progressively and successfully beaten out of me. No matter how many times you push the ball up the hill it always rolls back down but you keep pushing. It’s what you do.

Seeing Mike Conley is so reminiscent for me. Young, full of testosterone and dreams he’s the very embodiment of manly youth. Ruggedly handsome and chivalrous to a fault, his life was rolled out before him like a limitless red carpet. All he had to do was step ahead. Sadly, he wouldn’t recognize the man he would become, the man with his accompanying faraway stare.

Shall we begin then? Not at the precise beginning but further along, closer to his first step into the gauntlet. We’ll avoid the lazy, sun-filled summers and cool autumns framed with football and pretty girls but for your information, suffice it to say the man we’re about to meet has led an almost charmed life. Yes he’s suffered the skinned knees, broken hearts and random disappointments of youth but his hero’s demeanor has endeared him to virtually everyone he’s ever met. Lest you misunderstand, he is as humble as a man could be who is that handsome and that athletic and that engaging. The hero within him simply won’t quit, no mountain ever too high and no problem ever too big. To trot out the old cliché, guys want to be him, and women want to be with him.

It didn’t take me long to love him too, to do my very best for him and I knew intimately how, since I had also been down the road he was travelling many times. That was not too long ago. Alas, I can only do so much.

So how’d you like church? Mike grinned, taking her warm, bare shoulders softly and placing a passionate kiss on the curve of her delicious neck.

It was OK I guess… she responded, pleasantly flinching to the touch of his tickling tongue. She turned and faced him, a wide smile and a rush of warm breath eagerly meeting his lips, using one hand to skin off her thong and the other to caress him below. My turn! she happily exclaimed before running over to the bed.

He was soon at her feet kissing his way steadily up her near perfect cat-like body to their mutual delight. Close to her pleasure zone he dutifully paused for a brief benediction. Lord, thanks for the goodness for which I am about to receive. Amen and Amen… he said.

And Amen, she giggled, arching up to meet his talented tongue.

I didn’t linger. I took a seat in the den and watched the game wandering why they had sent me in. Her guardian wasn’t to be found. New to the job, she spent far too much time everywhere she wasn’t supposed to be. I’d been on scene almost a month and everything so far has seemed remarkably serene.

Damn that was good, she gushed, a sheen of perspiration coating her happy face.

He kissed her sweetly and lay back, propped on his elbow, twirling a strand of her sleek, black hair between his fingers. I love you Monica, he smiled. He rarely used her formal name and she grasped his depth of feeling.

Point of information for you, Leigh is Monica’s middle name and what everyone close calls her except her Dad when she’s in trouble or Mike when he’s quite serious. It was supposed to be spelled differently but a mistake at the clerk’s office was allowed to stand. Her Dad, Lee Turner, is retired Navy and her Mom is Chinese American. She was their later in life surprise baby, the youngest of four girls. Now that that is clarified we’ll get back to it.

I do believe I’m the luckiest girl in the world, she grinned, her brown eyes glistening, then pulled him closer for the beginning of round two.

I peeked back again while they were making love and smiled. I stayed until my time was almost up, purposefully saving an hour for after dark.

I returned just shy of three in the morning. I walked in from the south side, approaching from a varying time and angle a rule of mine. It was a pleasant night with just a touch of fall as a mild breeze blew in from the northwest. I spied a few from the opposing team half a dozen houses away. They tried to keep hidden which was their nature unless they had the numbers to be more brazen. If they did they could be extremely annoying. There is no respect between us, not much professional courtesy if you will. We have our rules and limits and they were etched in blood that neither side could violate. They hate me and I hate them.

I entered Mike and Leigh’s through the attic. I always check the attic first at night. It was clear so I went downstairs and all through the house. Attics, crawlspaces, basements and closets are preferred hiding places for the opposition. My counterpart was sleeping on the kitchen counter. I whistled in her ear. She immediately sprang to and made herself busy. I rolled my eyes and gave her a look before I went into their bedroom and sat in the corner.

He was curled into a ball snoring softly. She lay on her back with her left arm across the top of his head. She was having a nightmare stemming from a suspenseful movie they’d watched before bed. There was no outside manipulation so I didn’t interfere…really wasn’t supposed to on her behalf but I bent every rule I could for my humans. He was dreaming, the movie not bothering him at all. She was smarter than him and with that came a much more vivid imagination. He was more concrete, more visceral. He never seemed to be upset about fictional or imaginary things. Injustice and abuse pushed all his buttons.

I closed my eyes and leisurely replayed my past lives, all twenty of them. A chemist in nineteenth century London and a peasant farmer in eighth century France are in the top three. My favorite was my most recent one here in America. I’ve only been buried six months this last time but that life was grand. It was wonderful though I do wish I had helped my Dad much more.

I know you’re curious so here’s the deal. Humans don’t get changed into angels but it has happened the other way ‘round. That’s my story. Guardians like me have been around since the beginning of time. Almost two thousand years ago, after the Son’s Sacrifice, it was decided to let a few hundred guardians be born as humans without their angelic power just to absorb the human experience and then to train guardians. Please don’t confuse or compare this with what Jesus did. What we’re doing is just a training exercise not saving the world from sin.

I’m a hybrid of sorts. I’ve gone below more than anyone. I’m Level Five. I answer to my archangel. I get leeway that other guardians don’t and can clear out a whole street full of the opposition if I need to. That’s enough to fill your bowl for now.

Well I have to be getting back upstairs. I touched Mike’s forehead. He sighed and totally relaxed. Just for kicks I brushed against her. Her nightmare ended immediately. She woke with a start and sat up. I whispered in her ear and she fell back blissfully asleep. I could be written up for that. Outside now, I checked the hedge. All good.

For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; Psalm 91:11

2

Most guardians simply go off a live feed, sort of like an AWACS advisory system directly from their superior. Being as old school as old school gets, I get my summary each morning in writing with a hot cup of coffee and a gargantuan, steaming warm cinnamon roll. I mean, after all, it is Heaven. Sure I could be contacted immediately by any means necessary but I like to analyze the field of play and I have the authority and discretion to be a tad different. As a bit of additional info, I normally wear worsted wool three-piece suits, think Savile Row, with the hat of my choosing, suits of brown, navy and charcoal grey in winter, tan and drab green in the warm months. I smoke a pipe, even in summer and wear silk ties. I really like silk ties. I mean, really, we don’t sweat or get cold so we’ll wear almost anything.

I scanned my orders for the day, winked at two of my former wives and I was outside of Mike’s place of employment in slightly more than a second.

Legacy Motors was bustling that Monday morning. They have an Infiniti dealership not far down the road and a classic car store here. Mike is the Sales Manager…impressive for a twenty-nine-year-old. I nodded at the sprinkling of colleagues there then went straight into his office. I know you expected a car dealership to be covered up with the adversary but you’re never as clever as you think.

So, how ‘bout Mr. Walraven and the GTO? Brad, the GM asked. In his mid-thirties, he ran his hands through a shock of light brown hair. He’s a solid guy whose guardian, Romulus, is a close friend of mine.

Spoke to him an hour ago. He wants the whitewalls though, Mike answered scrolling through his computer screen.

Tell him we’ll throw in the raised letters too if he buys today, Brad added.

Mike nodded. And Jeff’s coming by to test drive the Buick and Randall’s thinking his guy on the Mustang will lock in today.

Great. How’s Jim’s wife doing? She’s a knockout, isn’t she? Brad asked, raising his dark blonde eyebrows.

Mike grinned. I think Jim takes a bottle of Viagra a day to hang in with her.

I think this is her third boob job… Brad added. They laughed. Hey, look, holler if you need me. Great weekend Mike…good job, Brad said gliding out on his slender six-foot frame.

Yeah. Give Skip hell on the way out will ya? Mike added as his eyes traveled back to his monitor.

You got it! Brad laughed already five steps away. Brad was a great guy but almost too smart for his own good. He knew too much so he was always less happy than he should be.

Mike’s phone vibrated. He casually reached for it amidst the jumble of keys scattered across his desk. It was a text from Leigh or more accurately what they call a sext these days. She’d sent a selfie of her naked behind. I laughed at that. Mike did too.

Before he could respond, a fragrance of gardenia, tea oil and lemon peel wafted into the room. On five-inch heels, she carefully stepped in like a flamingo treading across a cow pasture. She was perennially tanned and wore a tight brown pencil skirt with a khaki blouse and a lovely brown bra generously exposing a fine pair of breasts for which she’d paid handsomely, framed by a matching brown mini jacket.

Hiiiii Mike… she cooed, not bothering to knock or ask if he was busy, promptly settling herself into the nearest chair across from his desk, shunning the one adjacent, electing for one with a direct line of sight, for some reason having to cross and uncross her well-toned, well-tanned legs several times.

Mike grinned, unable to avoid noticing she was wearing neon blue silk panties which she generously flashed, sort of like those ships sending coded messages in years gone by. Her dispatch was clearly received. He made himself look away and blushed.

She smiled. Her teeth were so white you could use her head for a flashlight.

So how’s Avery today? he finally began.

Avery’s good…as always…but she’d be better if Mikey-poo would slide some more business her way…or maybe slide something else my way… she offered, seductively licking her lips.

Wait…did she just call you Mikey-poo? Ginger popped in, named after his hair color not his gender, laughing as he heard the exchange in passing. He stopped in his tracks suddenly, his belly still wobbling from his forward momentum.

Mike laughed and ignored her the best he could, checking his phone to see if Leigh was still randy.

I’ll tell you what, make me the Sales Manager and Miss Avery will get all she wants, Ginger pronounced plopping next to her.

Promises…promises, she pouted dramatically, leaning over, making sure to rub her right breast all over his upper arm.

You got a customer on the lot, Mike advised, after checking the camera feed.

Right. See ya girl, Ginger said as he stood and spun hastily away.

So…how’s Leigh? she asked, poking her overly filled lower lip out. As it was, another shot or two and she wouldn’t be able to eat soup without a bib.

Great. She’s great. Thanks for asking, he smiled, noticing her twinkling brown eyes boring into him.

So…when are ya gonna take me for a test drive? she wondered, slowly licking her lips again, really slowly, porn star worthy, with one false eyelash barely hanging on.

Mike thought a moment and leaned in. Well…I guess you can just say that I prefer that new car smell.

I laughed so hard I almost fell over. That didn’t sting Miss Avery terribly. Speed bumps, even roadblocks don’t slow her much. Didn’t much care for her but I did like watching her leave. That night Brad spit his drink out when he heard that while reviewing the daily tapes. He always watched any segment with Avery at both stores. He couldn’t wait to fist bump Mike.

Before bed, Leigh stood checking herself out in the bathroom mirror. She was three days late which caused a bit of concern because she was usually like clockwork. On schedule every month, the Crimson Express would pull into the station. She stood at a side profile and scrutinized her tummy.

As far as I was concerned she should eat biscuits and gravy for a year to add a bit on but that’s not the way she was wired. A fitness instructor, she was lean and toned with all the right bumps and bouncies, built like one of those models you see pedaling madly on a stationary bike as if trying to escape a zombie horde while their two-year old stares blankly at them but with more muscle. If she wore leggings to the Wal-Mart she’d start a riot.

Still not satisfied, her concern left her temporarily when Mike walked in and slapped her shapely behind, farting loudly as he bent over to brush his teeth.

How dare! she squealed. Oh Mike, that stinks…that’s just not right.

Actually I think it is reminiscent of a Beef Bourguignon with a hint of fine Corinthian leather underscored with just a note of coriander and lime, he comically proposed with his hand analytically on his chin.

She regarded him with an expressionless stare. Wanting to laugh but reticent to reward his schoolboy behavior she bit her lip, faced away and managed another, How dare!

How dare! How dare! How dare! he mumbled spitting water and toothpaste as he talked.

She promptly whirled with one hand on her hip and gave him the look.

How dare! he parroted, laughing, poking his rear well into her pelvis and popping another steamer, barely able to escape before running and leaping onto the bed. She was hot on his heels spanking, pinching and tickling. They were at it again in no time, munching and grunting like hungry little piggies.

I sat in the corner again and mused for a while after filling my pipe having to smile at how much they loved each other. I was only lucky enough to love about a dozen women like that.

Enjoy life with the wife, whom you love, all the days of this meaningless life that God has given you under the sun… Ecclesiastes 9:9

3

Well, two weeks have passed since my last update. You haven’t missed much. It’s Friday afternoon and I want to check on Leigh. Might seem strange to you but I can go anywhere I like. I just can’t intervene for her directly unless I get specific allowances. With the slouch of a guardian she’s got I feel I should keep an eye on her. Tomorrow is Halloween. You probably think we’re at a disadvantage on that day. Not so at all. I rather quite enjoy it. Have to be mindful of the disheartened or twisted humans who seem fond of black lipstick and ignorantly open doors that they shouldn’t but that aside I think it’s a hoot. I quite enjoy watching the tykes dress up and load up on sugar. Superman and some little princesses seem to be popular these days.

Despite its pagan roots the end result is little ones having fun with their families. You recognize a tree by its fruit, right? As a matter of fact little ones aren’t the only ones who like to play dress up.

It just so happens I was up most of last night attending a sixteenth century costume ball with about 100,000 of my best friends. I mean nobody throws a party like Jesus. It was lavish and grand which things tend to be up there. I didn’t sleep a wink. We don’t have to sleep but you can if you like. Trouble is, you might nod off for ten or twenty years. If you’re in service like me you have to exhibit a bit more call of duty. I live with my two favorite wives and they keep me on my toes so I was barely out of my buccaneer’s attire before I was back at the office.

One major fundamental you need to know is I can’t explain how monumentally infinitely awesome Heaven is. Like Paul reminds us in 1 Corinthians, the vast wonder of Heaven is incomprehensible to the mind of man or woman. A bit like trying to describe how tasty strawberry shortcake is to someone who’s never had strawberries or even shortcake, much less together and times a million. It’s not just the incomparable beauty but more so the encompassing peace of Heaven, basking in total communion with God that’s so enormously marvelous. Imagine being totally secure and blissfully worry-free. I interject that to bolster your resolve to the fact that your human life is not all there is for you. The corollary to that is the tragedies that befall us are just bumps in the road in the grand scheme of things. That’s not to discount at all the gut-wrenching shocks and agonizing physical and psychological trials humans face but to broaden the perspective a bit.

OK, guess that’s it for the pep talk. We’ll check in on Leigh.

She hurried into the dressing room having barely five minutes before the start of her next cross-training class. She found a stall and ripped open the package, saying a brief prayer before peeing on the stick. Lord, I’m not really ready for this but if it’s your will, I’ll do my best. She waited nervously for the result, took a deep breath, wrapped the indicator in paper and stuffed it into her purse before stepping out. She washed her hands, splashed a little cold water on her face and smiled.

Two hours later she was enjoying lunch with her best friend and co-worker, Cleo; Cleo being the abbreviated Cleopatra. They sat thumbing their phones, munching away, largely ignoring the keenly interested men scattered around them. Cleo stuffed a forkful of arugula, avocado and grilled chicken into her lovely mouth then laughed, a dandy snot bubble instantly forming and promptly collapsing at the end of her nose. A look of surprise captured her pretty face then both of them fell into snorting laughter.

What brought that on? Leigh giggled sipping on iced green tea.

Kevin’s asking if you’ll go out with him…again, Cleo rolled her eyes.

Uhhh…no…but a friendly no, Leigh said with a sideways glance.

Cleo typed into her phone with her left hand while using her right to eat and drink. He says to tell you Black Guys Matter… she informed, laughing at her younger brother.

Tell him Wedding Bands Matter, Leigh replied.

He says that’s cold…

Just tell him white men can jump, Leigh countered, enjoying the banter.

He says ‘Aww hell no’, Cleo relayed.

Meanwhile at Legacy Motors, Mike was carefully surveying the underside of a gold 1967 Firebird convertible. That’s a little worse than we thought, Mike sighed.

He must’ve hit one heckuva pothole on that test drive, Bud, the chief mechanic answered. I can’t fix that. We’ll have to replace it.

Can you have it ready Monday? Mike asked.

Yeah. Kinda cuts into the margin, huh? Bud wondered aloud.

Yeah. We already agreed on price but…that’s the breaks. We’ll make it up on this one though, Mike said gazing over at a sparkling red restomod 1965 T-bird. Restomod is a modified restoration which selectively incorporates new components like air conditioning, engines, sound systems, brakes, transmissions etc. into a classic car. A true restoration is the diligent and expensive process of using original parts to restore the car to original showroom condition. Legacy did very few complete restorations. They cost too much and took too much time. They’d do them but only in select circumstances and with only high demand vehicles like the baby blue 1963 Stingray in bay five.

Mike slapped Bud on the back then walked over to Jack and Jose who were prepping an ’81 Cutlass for the paint booth. This one was custom and under contract. It was gonna go full street: killer gold to orange sparkle paint, hydraulics and thumping sound. Jack and Jose were both in their mid-forties, extremely capable and extremely competitive. The fact they had married each other’s sister just added to the hilarity. They were as good as any paint or body guys in the state maybe even on the west coast which says a lot. For car crazy California that is simply insane.

So, you comin’ tonight Mike? Jose grinned over at him.

Yeah, we’ll be there. You really gonna let Jack in the barn? Mike asked trying to stir things up.

I’m already all up in his sister. Guess I’ll be at the party too, Jack jumped in, arguably a better body man than Jose who took the edge in the paint booth.

Yo jefe, how long do I have to put up with this Uncle Tom? Jose grinned, intentionally not looking up, a foot shorter than Jack.

I’ll be bustin’a cap in that beaner booty, Ricky Martin… Jack straightened up and scolded.

Mike walked out amidst their jawing, checking his phone as he crossed the lot.

Later that evening he eased his yellow 1975 Mach One convertible next to Jose’s purple El Camino and Jack’s neon green Charger. He leaned over and kissed Leigh. You ready babe? You ready to make America great again?

Heck yeah! she shouted, laughing as she eagerly took his arm.

The howls and comments started as soon as they entered, dressed as the greatest political odd couple in history. Mike was in a blue suit, white shirt, red tie, blonde wig and a red cap. She was in an Easter-egg green pant suit with a pillow strapped to her behind under her clothes and a short blonde wig. Mike was soon grabbed by Los Hermanos Turdos, that’s right, the Turd Brothers, Jose and Jack dressed literally as man-sized excrement, the Doo-Doo twins.

Leigh took her tray of lemon-vanilla glazed pumpkin cupcakes to the main table, immediately joined by Graciela and Marcella, the hostess. It was a fun scene, about thirty adults with almost as many kids, as they danced and giggled, done up as witches, firefighters, nurses, princesses and superheroes.

Here, let me get you a Margarita. Jose made a small pitcher just for you, Marcella laughed, dressed as Snow Black.

Thanks, but I think I’ll just have water, Leigh said.

Marcella, a Mommy times three, looked at her quizzically but lost her question when Brad’s wife Jenny walked up, her two seven-year old twins in tow.

They wanna dance with Hillary, Jenny smiled, looking sharp in her vampire hunter costume.

Hi Mrs. Conley, two identically adorable red-headed princesses spoke up.

Hey Lilly…Connor…come here and give me a hug, Leigh gushed reaching out for them. They sandwiched her affectionately then excitedly pulled her out onto the dance floor.

We already got our picture taken with The Donald, Connor informed.

Oh OK, well you’ll have to get one with me too, Leigh laughed.

Yeah Mom and Dad are both voting for him, Lilly advised, making a stinky face.

That’s OK. I think I am too, she laughed as the twins energetically exhibited their best moves. Across the room she caught Mike’s eye as he was having his photo taken, Donald Trump squished between two big turds. He smiled and winked. She suddenly got a lump in her throat and nearly started to cry.

I rode back sitting on the trunk with my feet on the backseat. She grabbed him as soon as they were out of the car. To an outsider it would seem strange to see Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton going at it like two sixteen-year olds, but not to me.

The next day I popped in to see Leigh on her off day before heading over to Mike’s employment. She was in the bathroom, saying a silent prayer before she tested herself again. Her guardian was actually asleep in the shower next to her. At least she was on the job. It was a good, sweet prayer.

Now off to Legacy Motors. So there was Miss Avery in black leggings and an open cotton top two sizes too small over a black sports bra with her guardian in tow. Her designs were plain. She was bending over Mike’s desk giving him a full view of her plastic surgeon’s handiwork before casually dropping her keys on the floor. Naturally she had to turn, bend over and give her rump a little flex before she stood and straightened her hair.

Oh, how clumsy of me… she purred.

I wasn’t in the mood for her shenanigans. He was going to get big, life-changing news later on and I didn’t want her perfume to linger. I gave her guardian a look then transformed into a wasp and gave her the business right between the plumpers and again and again until she screamed and ran out. Even her guardian snickered.

The customers and employees had quite a laugh. Ginger quickly texted Brad over at the Infiniti shop to alert him for a segment on the newsreel. Mike stood and thought of checking on Leigh but Ginger breathlessly waddled over, his face red with laughter.

What happened? I mean she ran outta here like her head was on fire! Ginger exclaimed.

I think a bee stung her, Mike shrugged.

Can’t wait to see that on tape… Ginger mused.

Here let’s look, Mike suggested. With a few quick strokes on the keyboard there she was, from the scintillating rear view to the hurried boot scoot out the door. Within seconds, the entire sales team and a few select customers enjoyed another good laugh. After the third play it was time to return to work so they filed out smiling, filled with visions of sugar plums dancing in their heads. Mike stood and e-mailed that segment to Brad and to the guys out in the garage. He paused in his doorway pleased to see customers starting to fill the place up. The extra $500 off for a buyer in costume would yield interesting results and the balloons and Halloween candy for the kids didn’t hurt either.

It was just past two. The lot was filling up so fast that all sales personnel were busy, so much so that Mike took the next up. Just his luck it was two stunners from the city dressed as cops.

Hi, can I show you ladies something? he smiled.

I’ll bet you can, the leggy blonde cooed.

Yeah…hi, we came to look at the Bronco. You haven’t sold it have you? the brown-haired beauty spoke up, lowering her Ray-bans.

Just put it on the lot yesterday. Would you like to drive it? he asked, unable to ignore how smokin’ hot they both were.

Yes sir, by the way I’m Cassie and this is Liz… the brunette smiled and extended her hand.

And I’m Mike…at least I…think I am, he grinned. It’s parked right over there. Y’all take a look and I’ll grab the keys. He quickly jogged inside grabbing his phone as he went.

Ya busy? she asked almost conspiratorially.

Yeah. You OK Leigh? he said.

Yeah…goin’ by Mom and Dad’s then stopping for groceries. Shrimp stir fry sound OK for dinner?

That’ll be great, he replied eagerly.

Don’t be too late, OK? she pleasantly advised.

As soon as Mike walked in, he was surrounded by Randall, Ned, Skip,