On the morning that all the dreams came true, the woman with the blue scarf in the market found herself with no reason to live.

Once upon a year ago, she took a new medication her doctor had given her without reading the label. She took it in the doctor's office and she drove home.

Once upon a year ago, a doctor gave a lady a new medication without reading the label to her. He was a very busy man and he thought, in his thought of thoughts, that she seemed intelligent enough to know that you're supposed to read the label on everything, unless, of course, it's in another language.

Once upon a year ago, the doctor's wife, excited because she'd just learned that she was going to have another child, picked up her son very gently at his day care and drove, singing with her son, toward her husband's office.

Once, just by accident, in a very long minute a year ago, the lady who'd taken the new medication without reading the label lost control of her vision and reflexes and drove into the doctor's wife's car...

She stood, a year ago, on the edge of the cemetery, as three bodies were laid to rest in the frozen ground while the preacher wiped a tear on his sleeve. She watched and wished and made a promise. The doctor had left a message on her phone robot before he took an overdose of sleeping pills so he could dream forever that his family was together, singing. He said, on the tape the woman with the blue scarf in the market listened to over and over, he said, "I'm sorry. I was too busy to care. I know you're sorry, too. Maybe you're not too busy to care. At least, not now."

The woman with the blue scarf in the market became too busy not to care. She cared all day long for the sick and the injured and those who didn't have anything wrong with them. She tried to heal, she tried to teach, she cajoled and begged and campaigned and went over backwards for everyone, including herself. She had a debt to a little boy and his mother and his unborn sister, a debt that she could never repay because they would never know, or if they did know, they could never tell her.

On the morning that all the dreams came true, the woman with the blue scarf in the market found herself with no reason to live.

Just a day ago, when the sun came up, a wonderful thing had happened. The stars and the planets were all in their proper places for the cosmic square dance of hope. Somewhere far away on a mountain, a yellow-robed priest finished reciting the nine million names of god and god smiled and all the dreams came true. Except hers. The woman with the blue scarf in the market had no dreams. She'd done what she set out to do and there was no more to be done. She stood in the market and watched the lame walk, the blind see, the deaf hear and the hungry eat their fill. She saw the priests with the pretty girls, the dogs with the happy cats and the cars that ran on wishful thinking. She searched her heart and she found nothing. She was alone. She thought pessimistic thoughts about the value of things hoped for and received without effort. She thought about how cruel the universe was for thinking about everyone but her. She hated god. Why did he let her bust her ass for nothing?

Not twelve hours ago, an angel appeared to her, wings and all, with Dr. Scholl's sandals and a faint cloud of patchouli foating about her pleasingly plump body. "Sucks, doesn't it?"

The woman with the blue scarf was startled. "What?"

"Sucks, doesn't it? You think you're the only one who's pissed? We don't have anything to do, either. And what about ol' Satan and his crew? They're sitting around, grumbling, too."

The woman with the blue scarf sat down in the market. "I never thought of myself in a class with angels and devils."

The angel sat in the air, her wings curving gently and wafting very slowly. "Sucks, doesn't it? You're just doing your job. The right thing, right, according to the rules? Then, poof, the old rulemaker makes you obsolete. No warning, no thanks, no gold watch. I mean, I called him up, red phone and all, and said, 'Hey, Elohim, what's the deal?' He hems and haws and says, 'Don't sweat it, Gabby, we'll retrain you in something useful. Appreciate all the good work. Now, take the opportunity. Go relax. See you later.'"

The lady with the blue scarf fidgeted and dug her underwear out of an uncomfortable spot. "Right! Relax? I get fidgety not knowing what I'm going to do next. I like to be busy."

The angel nodded rhubarbly, "Don't I know it, kid. I've never been so confused and uncomfortable in my life. Twenty-two million years of certainty and predictable existence dealing with an unruly universe and then old cloud head decides to try something different. Can't trust him now. What will he do to top this?"

The woman with the blue scarf chewed that blue scarf and decided that she didn't like the taste of Rayon so she stopped and said, "So, what shall we do?"

The angel twiddled her thumbs and thought. "I don't know. That's what I came to ask you. Isn't there something you've always wanted to do?"

The lady with the blue scarf thought. She thought. She thought until she couldn't anymore. She shrugged and began to cry.

The angel looked stunned. She scooted through the air and alighted next to the lady with the blue scarf and put her arm around her and began to cry, too.

The sky parted and the winds whispered mysteriously and God came down in a silver and gold elevator with his sidekick, Pedro, who carried a very big book and a quill pen behind his pink little shell-like ear. God stepped out of the elavator and Pedro, like a good sidekick, got him a chair. God surveyed the two criers in silence.

Pedro thought he better do something. He tapped the angel on the shoulder and said, "Ah-hem. Excuse me. Could we have your attention?"

The angel and the woman looked up and went to the bathroom in their clothing. God looked peeved and pointed his finger at Pedro and said, in a deep, resonant, L. Ron Hubbard type voice, "Aw, shut up. Look what you've done now! I'll teach you. I now grant you your fondest wish!"

POOF! Pedro turned into a beautiful Folies Bolgiere dancer with ruffles, breasts, sparkled shoes and an eight foot headdress and danced the cancan joyfully off into the distance.

On the morning that all the dreams came true, the woman with the blue scarf in the market found herself with no reason to live.

She explained this to God, who sighed. "I do seem a bit ungrateful, don't I? Okay, what if I summon the lady and the boy you killed and you asked them if they are pleased with what you've done and ask them fi you can go on with your life and have your old, forgotten dreams come true? How about that?"

She thought and while she thought, the angel sheepishly snaked her plump hand in the air.

God sighed again. "Yes, what is it, Gabby?"

Gabby shifted in her mess, hesitated, and asked, "What about me and us? Let's say you make her happy, what about us? We exist only to serve, even Satan and his glee club. How might we serve now? We have no imaginations, no dreams, no hope, no future. There was always now and that's gone."

God grimaced fitfully. "How'd you like to join Pedro? No, forget that. I'm getting a little fretful myself. Look, all I wanted to do was the ultimate right thing and I've failed."

Gabby and the woman with the blue scarf gasped to hear such an admission.

God laughed and tied his beard in a knot. "Oh, all right. I'll stick with the infallible thing. Not failed, just learned something the hard way."

The woman and the angel sighed with relief and God thoughtfully made their messes disappear and gave them new underwear with a bit of baby powder to take care of the rash.

Then God put everything back the way it was and Gabby went back to the Vatican to play poker with the Pope and Pedro joined the Houston Ballet and the lady with the blue scarf in the market squeezed a melon with a smile, because she had remembered everything, while everyone else thought it had been a dream. Her guilt was lifted and she went home to make spaghetti.

4/15/96