Albert was an emotional mess since the hunting trip. What little sleep he'd managed, was fitful and haunted by visions of headless angels. When he got up, he quietly thanked the heavens that it was not a work day and he could stay locked up in his house.

He was ready to spend the day quietly considering what had happened when a loud knock on the door startled him to alertness. The last thing he wanted was guests. He went to the door and opened it.

A tall, handsome woman about Albert's age, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt barged past him and headed to the kitchen.

"You forgot didn't you Albert? Noon today," she called over her shoulder, "do you want a beer?"

Ethelinda Caine was a social studies, civics, and Native American studies teacher at the same school Albert taught at. Though they had known each other most of their lives, it wasn't until recently, when they decided to collaborate on a book, that they had become good friends.

Ethelinda was Romani, she hated the term 'Gypsy', for all it's negative connotations. She liked the other common moniker for the Romani in these parts, 'Travelers', in fact the book they were writing together was titled American Travelers, a History of the Romani in the United States.

Her people had been in these parts since the 1840's when her ancestors fled Ireland during the Potato Famine. There was a sizable colony of Travelers just outside of town, most of them related to Ethelinda.

"I asked if you wanted a beer", she called from the kitchen.

"Ethy, I don't think I want to work today I'm not feeling well," Albert answered. He was the only one she would allow to call her Ethy. Most people called her Linda, and those who wanted to be murdered tried calling her Ethel.

"That's not gonna happen sweetie. We're on a tight schedule. Anyway I'm here. What's up, are you sick?" She walked into the living room and handed Albert a beer, then sat down in a plush arm chair opposite the couch.

Albert plopped down in the couch, "I'm just in a real bad place right now. I don't think I'd be much use today."

"What's wrong Albert?" Ethy looked concerned.

"Don't worry about it," Albert brightened up, "You know what, I could probably use the company. Let's just have a beer."

"Sure," Ethelinda said, "other than whatever is bothering you, how are things?"

"Not overly terrible," Albert smiled, "how are things with you?"

"Same old shit. Principal Vetters has been pestering me to teach another course. I just don't think I have the time."

Albert chuckled, "I think he just likes you, you should consider going out with him."

Ethy let out a guffaw, "Oh Albert, come on now, you know I'm gay."

"You're what?" Albert looked confused.

"You can't possibly not know. I'm practically a cliche."

"What are you talking about?"

"Albert, Albert, Albert. I've been living with Diane for 15 years."

"She's your roommate'" Albert said defensively.

"We go on vacations together. I fixed your transmission last week."

"You're mechanically inclined."

"I never wear anything outside of work except dungarees and flannel shirts. And I'm the coach of the girls field hockey team, for chrissake. Like I said, I'm practically a stereotype, just like you."

"What? What do you mean just like me?"

"You're gay too, aren't you?"

"Not that there's anything wrong with that, but why would you think that?"

"I've never known you to date a woman, this house is tasteful and immaculate, filled with beautiful antiques. I've only ever heard you listen to showtunes or Lady Gaga. And the only person you ever hang out with is Sheriff Jack."

Albert couldn't help chuckling. "I never really thought about it. I can see where you might make that assumption. No Ethy, I'm not gay, just not romantically inclined, I'm also musically eclectic and cursed with good taste."

"I'm sorry sweetie, you're not mad at me are you?"

"No, not at all, actually it's kind of nice to to know that somebody's thinking about me at all." Albert laughed, "I guess I would be a pretty together gay guy."

"Yes, you would," Ethelinda smiled.

Albert became serious, "Can I ask you a question, it's going to seem kind of stupid."

"I'm a high school teacher, I'm used to stupid," Ethy snickered, "what's the question?"

"Do you believe in angels?"

"You mean like fluffy wing, Saint Michael kind of vibe angels?"

"Yes, exactly those kind of angels, do you believe in them?"

"Well...," Ethy began, "as you know my people are mostly Catholic and I was raised Catholic. That having been said, no, I don't believe in angels. My grandmother on the other hand absolutely believes in angels. She is old school Travelers."

"Has she ever seen one?"

Ethy choked back a laugh, "I really don't know, it's not a conversation most people have. Why do you want to know if I believe in angels?"

Albert sat up and smiled weakly, "I was just curious, it's just been that kind of a week."

A look of concern crossed Ethelinda's face, "Are you all right Albert? You seem very distracted and very... well, sad."

Albert stood and walked over to where Ethelinda was seated. He grabbed her empty beer bottle.

"Would you like another, " he asked, "I am distracted but I'll get over it. There's no need to worry." In an effort to change the subject away from himself, Albert asked, "So your grandmother's old school, exactly what does that mean?"

"I'd love another beer. As for my grandmother, she grew up before the colony, before we had any actual home. The Travelers she lived with would move up and down the coast with the seasons. She made her money telling fortunes, reading tarot cards, even séances. She's got some great stories."

"I'll bet she does. I'll get you that beer. Thanks for coming over, I think I needed some company."

"Of course, Albert," Ethelinda said lightly , "you're my friend and I still need you to help finish my book. You didn't think you'd get off that easy?"

"No," Albert chuckled, as he walked into the kitchen, "I really didn't."