Holidays on Holiday Chapter Five: Law and Order (and Harmony) - Part Two

Here's the final bit of Harmony's chapter. The story will continue on as Cupid tells his side in the next couple chapters, where WAY more questions will be answered about this chapter. But that's later... In this half, Harmony gets accused of committing a crime. What will happen to our secretary friend? Read and find out!

After being rudely interrupted, I am ready to continue where I left off. To my surprise when I came back to the office, Cupid was unconscious.

Quickly, I ran toward him. “Sir, are you feeling okay?” He didn’t reply back and as his secretary, I was worried.

Would I care if he could no longer fulfill his role in life as the Angel of Love? No, because then I would fill-in and salaries are high for such a job. But then I thought: Cupid, in fact, is personally a momma’s boy.

His mother was always overprotective of him. I mean, she didn’t even let him out of the house yet, and Cupid’s around a millennium old. And his mother comes to the office almost every day to check up on her sweetie-pie. She hadn’t come yet today, so I knew to expect her any minute. How would she react to see her son in total mentality? The conversation would probably go like this:

She’d walk in the office, all cheerful. “Honey bunny, I bought you a gorgeous new pair of earmuffs. And I cleaned your ‘you know what’s’ and… Oh my goodness gracious, what happened to my son?” Then she’d run over to him. “Oh sweetie, are you okay? Mommy is so worried about you, my dear.” She’d start to cry for a second and then immediately get nutty. “What did you do to my son, Harmony? I never trusted you for a minute, you no good, liar, cheapskate, piece of rubbish!”

I’d try to comfort her. “Cupid’s fine, he’s just tired because…”

“Did you hear me? Piece of rubbish!”

“No, he just went to a party tonight and…”

“I told you if my son is going to a party, you call me for permission. You’re not in charge of him!”

“Sir, answer me!” Still he remained in his strange state of mind. I heard footsteps from somewhere; there was no time to waste.

I grabbed a cup of water and splashed it on Cupid’s face. He didn’t budge. The footsteps were closer this time. I kicked his leg. He still didn’t move at all. The footsteps were incredibly close now. It was now or never.

I stuffed my own boss in a sack and tied him in. What can I say? I was desperate for ideas, I mean if his mother saw him like that she’d, you know. Right as I was tying the knot on the sack, his mother entered the office.

“Gumdrops, I made you some fresh cookies,” she said, holding a tray of delicious homemade cookies. “They’re chocolate chip.” She looked at me tying the sack and I anxiously smiled. “Where’s my Cupey-poo?” she asked, scornfully.

I tried to pretend that I didn’t hear her.

Cupid’s mother looked at me with demonic eyes, dropping her tray of cookies on the floor. “I said, ‘Where is my son?!’”

I had to think of something fast. “He’s, um, in the bathroom.”

“Oh, I’ll just go in there with then. I mean, he always needs help wiping his…”

“But, Mrs. Cupid, don’t.” She started walking toward the office bathroom. I pulled at her arm and started whining. “No, please don’t. He wants her privacy, he told me himself.”

“I’ve nursed him for over one-thousand years. I know what I have to do by now.”

All of a sudden, a noise came from the sack, a familiar noise that Mrs. Cupid knew and understood very well. She rushed to it and opened the sack. Untying the knot quickly, was certain upon the entity in there.

I tried to stop her. I even carried out saying “no-o-o” for about a minute. She just called me a freaky weirdo and kept untying. And the strange noise kept coming from the bag and it was…

“Cupid!” yelled his mother. “What are you are you doing in here?” He didn’t say a thing; he was out cold still. If he didn’t open his eyes in a nanosecond, I’d be toast. And it’s not like I’m still one hundred; I won’t get grounded for this, especially with Mrs. Cupid’s overreacting. He didn’t open his eyes, and I was in for it.

She twitched her eyes psychotically and looked at me. She was angry. “What did you do to my son, Harmony?” She was like a tea kettle boiling up. “Aha! You beat him with a shovel!”

“Shovel?”

“I got you cornered now because I know you slaughtered my son, Cupid with a shovel.”

I was confused. “Wait, did you just say I hit Cupid with a shovel?”

“Yes, you know you did.”

“Why do you say a shovel?”

She quickly pointed to a dirty shovel leaning on the wall. And I have an explanation, because that was no random shovel. I left it there and never put it away, I guess.

You see, I garden. That’s right: flowers and fruits and vegetables. I garden. It’s a hobby I can’t resist, although it’s something not very masculine at all, and I’m always made fun of. But little did know that it would ever cause me trouble or that Mrs. Cupid would actually make sense.

And she was right. I was cornered. Even though I hadn’t committed the crime, I had no evidence to prove her wrong. It indeed looked as though Cupid’s unconscious state was of my doing.

Cupid’s mother began to cry in my direction. “What did you do to him? He was so innocent and look; here he is, hasn’t made a sound in a whole five minutes. You never know, he might even be dead! And you, trying to get away with it, abducting my son and putting him in this sack. You were probably going to run off, huh? Drive all the way to Albuquerque for all I know.”

I was about to cry myself. “I can really explain,” I said in a soft, frightened voice.

“No need to explain.” She grabbed her cell phone in her pocket and dialed. “Yes hello. Is this the Fairysville Police Department? Oh good, because I have a big dilemma. Wait, hold on, please.”

I anxiously stood there, trying to interpret the conversation between Mrs. Cupid and the police. My heart beat intensely.

She looked at Cupid and then at me. “We’re taking this to court. And that is my explanation.” She got back on the phone. “Yes, come ASAP to 119 Halo Avenue. It’s a big building, can’t miss it. You might know of it as Cupid Love Inc.? Yes, I’m Mrs. Cupid and my son, the Cupid, was hit by his secretary with a shovel until knocked unconscious, presumably dead.”

Then the policeman said something that stayed in my mind. I heard it and was very clear. “We’ll be right over,” he said.

I was dead meat.