May Be An Angel

“Is someone sitting in this chair?” might be the first thing she asks you.

Someone was, but you say, “Nop, its all yours,” because in that moment you can’t imagine being rude to this woman. Grabbing the top of the wicker chair she will tick-tack it awkwardly closer, intimating the conversation. She seems brittle, and you would offer help but you are still trying to sort out if you are annoyed with her for interrupting your hour a day of internet.

“Oh, I’m I interrupting anything?”

“No, no, not at all.”

The original occupier of the chair across from you returns from the cafeteria with a pineapple Fayrouz. She grabs a third chair. There is an unspoken understanding that you will both be having this conversation.

Your guest talks about her self. It isn’t self-centered or conceited, more like a prolonged introduction in which she is offering up a slice of herself for you to sample. “And then when I went to Mecca,” she is saying “and when I prayed at the Kaaba my face became lighter, more beautiful. I heard God talking to me.” She says God not Allah. You wonder if it is for your sake. You may recall a friend telling you the day before of a crazy woman around campus who talked to God in a hanging plant. As you look at her, trying not to notice that one of her cheeks is larger than the other, you wonder if this is the same woman.

She tells the two of you that she has an engineering degree, but works an administrative job at AUC. She wants to study religion. However, she is afraid she will have a hard time studying after being out of school this long. More than this she is afraid she won’t have time to talk with people. This is her favorite pastime currently, to meet people and talk with them. She feels it is what God wants her to be doing. From time to time during the conversation she will grip the armrests of the chair like she thinks it might take off. She seems nervous and awkward and slightly oblivious and glances around the tiny courtyard as if expecting friends of yours to arrive at any moment and call you away. You wonder if she is a naturally timid person who has had to push herself to become this social. You wonder how many people around this place are willing to sit and talk with her. You wonder how many people make fun of her. You wonder if she knows.

Eventually you find yourself standing and saying to your companion, “We should probably be getting home.” You feel guilty for saying it, like you are backing down from a challenge. As the two of you walk away you will toss this back to the woman, “Hey, it was great talking with you. I’ll see you ‘round?” And to your surprise you mean it.

You round the corner smiling contentedly maybe even smugly. She may be an Angel.