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Angel
Spend all your time waiting
in the arms of an angel
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Once we walked back into the studio everything started happening so quickly, it was hard to keep track of what was going on. They sang the new single and took questions from the studio audience. The questions were the same as always. This interview was breaking no new ground. A girl in the audience asked if they would sing Wish that I was there, which they did. As they sang, Zac smiled at me and winked (man, I can feel the rumors growing and growing). Then the DJ thanked them for coming and we walked back into the conference room, which had miraculously been cleaned and set up for a meet and greet/autograph session with the contest winners. I sat on the couch and watched in awe just as I always did in these sorts of situations. These boys (who could barely pack their own suitcases) were the masters of this small universe. They were charming, gracious and confident as they posed for pictures and answered questions that were inevitably the same ones they had answered yesterday and the day before and the day before and would answer again tomorrow. I know I said earlier they had none of the refinements of their parents, but I was wrong. As the maxim goes, they had them in spades. They also had whatever the magic quality was that set people apart. They really were superior beings.
They took the hands of the crying girls and made them smile and laugh. They bestowed hugs on all the girls who asked for them. They thanked each girl for the smallest of offered gifts. They saw the girls standing at the back of the crowd and greeted them warmly, making them feel like the most important person in the room. I beamed with pride at how wonderful “my boys” were, no wonder Diana and Walker always seemed like the happiest people on earth. I truly understand why they keep winning “Most Accessible Band” year after year on the VH1 awards. Taylor looked over at me and smiled. I had seen this smile a million times before, but had I ever really seen it? Even after he looked away I continued to stare. He was simply beautiful. I realize most men would rather be described as handsome, but it was just so inadequate a word when describing him. His eyes mesmerized me, how could anything be so purely blue? I wanted, no, needed to know what he was thinking, what was behind his eyes, why hadn’t I noticed this absolute intensity about him before?
“Cleo?” A small voice whispered beside me.
“Huh?” I said not wanting to tear my eyes away from Taylor. I think, for the first time, I was seeing him as the fans saw him.
“Okay, everyone it’s time to go,” Cassandra announced to the crowd. I looked at her (and all of her perfection) tearing my eyes away from Taylor. “The guys have a busy day ahead of them and they really, really need to be going, so, please gather your things.”
“Cleo?” The voice insisted and I felt a small hand on my arm. I turned to look into the face of young girl of about 13 sitting in her wheelchair.
“I’m sorry, how can I help you?” I asked.
“Well, I made these pillows for Isaac, Taylor and Zachary, but couldn’t get close enough to give to them,” she said holding out a bag in her twisted hand. “Do you think you could give it to them?”
“Well, of course, it would be my pleasure.” I said taking the bag. Somehow the entire Hanson fan base knew who I was (actually, it was because of the Internet, I am not entirely comfortable with the amount of pictures of me out there, but what could I do) and they were always giving me “gifts” to give to the guys. I looked inside to see three handmade pillows in their “favorite” colors with the Hanson symbol and their names painstakingly embroidered on each one. “Did you make these, honey?”
“Yes,” she said tears filling her eyes. She had thin, blond hair with enormous blue eyes. Her eyes were arresting. There was an honesty and openness in them I found scary. No one should wear their heart so completely on their sleeve; they were destined to get hurt. “I worked on them for months. I had hoped to give them to each of them, but there are too many girls and my wheelchair is so bulky...”
“What’s your name, honey?” To my own ears my soft voice suddenly sounded like Diana Hanson’s as she soothed a hysterical fan. If I were completely honest, I have to admit I have a fairly thick southern accent; after all I grew up exclusively in Tulsa. But the soft compassionate tone was what I found surprising. Maybe her sons weren’t the only ones learning from her.
“Mindy.” She stuttered I could see the struggle she was having with tears.
I reached out and grabbed her small birdlike hand. “No, Mindy, I won’t give them your gift.” At this I saw her deflate as a tear finally broke free of her lashes. “You’re going to give it to them.” I looked up and caught both Isaac and Taylor’s attention and motioned them over. As Isaac passed Zac, he grabbed his arm.
“What’s up?” Taylor asked as he approached. He was perfection (the male version of Cassandra?) in his low-slung tight, black jeans. Seriously, I was wondering when he became so very good-looking?
“Guys, this is Mindy and she has a gift for you.” I said smiling. Times like this are when my job just seems so worth doing. I was about to make this girl so happy.
“Really? Cool!” Zac said plopping down on the couch next to her. Isaac sat next to him and Taylor knelt in front of her. I backed off a little and started gathering the various gifts the guys had left around the room. I wanted her to get to meet them and have the moment be all about her. I watched out of the corner of my eye as they talked to her for about 5 minutes and their actions didn’t really surprise me, not everyone in the world is selfish and ungrateful for their gifts. Their gift was the ability to touch the lives of those around them. They each accepted their pillow as though it was the most valuable thing they’d ever held. And really at that moment, it probably was. As she was talking, Taylor reached out and wiped away the tear that had fallen, just like he would have for one of his little sisters. Zac absently reached out and grabbed onto her hand. At this, I saw her eyes light up with what could only be described as unadulterated joy. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she went from looking frightened to smiling and laughing. I realize I’d already had an emotional morning (and was teetering over the edge of complete exhaustion), but the scene made me feel like I was going to cry. I looked over toward the door to notice another woman watching the scene her eyes shining with tears.
I smiled at her and she tentatively walked towards me. “Are you with the band?” She asked.
“Yes, I’m Cleo, their personal assistant.” I said, offering my hand for her to shake. Her hand was small and cold and her grasp weak. I looked into her eyes and saw someone carrying an extra load of pain. “Are you Mindy’s mother?”
“Yes, I’m Mrs. Wilding.” She said and stopped. I could see her swallowing trying to control her emotions. “You have no idea what this means to her. She has so little time left before... You see, her leukemia came out of remission again and this was her 3rd remission. The doctors don’t give us much hope for a 4th, but you never know, they didn’t us much hope for a 3rd.”
“I’m so sorry.” I said putting my other hand over our clasped hands.
“Well,” she smiled even through the tears in her eyes, happy to see her daughter happy, “she wanted so badly to meet them. She has loved them since she was a little, little girl, especially Zac. The first time she spent a long period in the hospital, she literally papered her walls with pictures of him.” My heart leapt a little as I watched Zac laugh at something she said, not even knowing how much joy he was giving this stranger.
“He would probably have laughed and asked if maybe that wasn’t what was making her sick.” I said, realizing that was probably exactly what he would have said. It’s scary to know someone so well.
“And Mmmbop. We heard that song over and over again.” Mrs. Wilding said shaking her head. “That song was such a comfort to her. Even at seven, she understood the words. When she was truly sick right before the bone marrow transplant, the only way we could get her to sleep was to play that song over and over.”
“It’s a great song.” I answered. I find it ironic the very song that broke my heart every time I heard it could be such a comfort to someone else.
“I hope it was alright to bring gifts.”
“Of course,” I said reassuring her. “But completely unnecessary.”
“She wanted to make them something special, so maybe they would by some chance remember her.” As if any of us could forget her at this point. “But it is so hard for her to do much of anything. She worked so hard and it would have been a shame for her to not have had the opportunity to give them to the boys.” Taylor looked down at his pillow then over at me. His half smile told the whole story. He was flattered and pleased to be able to do something for this girl, but really, he knew what little he had to offer was such a small thing compared to what she was inevitably giving them.
“Cleo,” Zac called, interrupting the moment between Taylor and me. “Can you come over here with the palm pilot of doom?”
I walked over to where my bag sat next to the couch and pulled out my palm pilot. “What do you need?”
“Will you put Mindy’s e-mail address in there for me?” Zac asked. “I know if I write it down I’ll lose it before I get to my laptop. But if you put it in the halls of doom, then it won’t get lost, theoretically.” Zac smiled despite the fact he felt absolutely wretched. Really, what was a little stomach flu when faced with the reality of this young girls entire life.
“Of course,” I said as I pulled out my palm pilot and quickly opened up my Zac files. “What’s your e-mail address?”
“It’s... It’s kinda embarrassing.” Mindy began softly.
“Seriously, we’ve gotten some very strange ones, yours can be no worse.” Taylor began.
“It’s ZaCs_GaUrDiAn_AnGeL@yahoo.com.”