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realized he wouldn’t fall asleep. That he couldn’t. That he didn’t need to. Being a spirit was a 24/7 job. Spirits didn’t sleep.
    â€œDamn! What the hell am I supposed to do?” He tried to visualize a beer. It didn’t materialize. He snapped his fingers and said, “Beer, please!” Nothing happened.
    He stood up and walked around the apartment looking for more clues to her life. The sooner he solved her problems, the sooner he’d rack up some points in the Good column and hopefully get back to his life.
    Her refrigerator was covered with pictures of herself and friends, including one chick with a punky haircut who was in most of them. He tried to open a drawer but found he couldn’t. He thought about it and guessed that if spirits could open and close things at will, the world would seem like one giant haunted house.
    He went to the door and decided to practice walking through. Don’t hesitate was what Gus told him. Gus was an odd little fellow, but at least Gus could see him. Talk to him. Have a conversation. When Gus was with him, they had sailed right through the door.
    â€œHere goes nothing,” he said aloud. His first attempt, he smacked into the door. He didn’t feel any pain though. The second time, he made a running start and burst right through.
    â€œYeah!” he cheered when he found himself standing in the empty apartment hallway. He faced the door of the apartment across the hall from Kate’s and decided to go be a voyeur in someone else’s place. Maybe he’d get lucky and see someone having sex. Live porn. Girl-on-girl would be even better. He looked up and down the hallway, thinking of the possibilities of sex behind every door. Life—if that’s what you called it—in Neither Here Nor There was starting to get interesting.
    Walking through the door across the hall, he emerged in a small living room, the mirror image of Kate’s. A “man couch”—black leather—faced a flat-screen television. Two people, their backs to him, were watching a Law & Order rerun. An old woman sat close to a guy around his age, maybe late-twenties, early thirties. The Law & Order rerun was one with Lenny Briscoe—his favorite TV cop. The old woman looked up—stared right at him, in fact, and asked, “Who are you?”
    â€œYou can see me?”
    â€œOf course I can.”
    He walked over to the couch. “Can he see me?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œHe’s the guy who lives here?”
    She nodded. “He’s my grandson.”
    â€œAre you a Guide?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œAn angel?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhere are your wings?”
    â€œThey’re a pain in the ass. Always getting in the way.” She stood, and he could see wings, all folded up, on her back.
    â€œHow come you’re here and not in Heaven?”
    â€œZack needs some help. His wife died over a year ago. Almost two years now. Tragic. Lovelygirl. She was in a car accident. And it’s all this time later and still…he won’t go out. Won’t see his old friends. One by one, they’ve given up on him. Except one—Tony. They grew up together. Tony hadn’t been to church since I used to drag the two of them on Sundays when they were little. In Queens. That Tony…good boy. Now he works on Wall Street. Tony, he went to St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Prayed for help for Zack. My supervisor decided I was the best angel for the job. I know Zack. So, I’m working on it.”
    Julian got a brilliant idea. “Well, now Grandma, I think we might be able to help each other.”
    â€œOh?” She arched an eyebrow. He looked closely at her now. Her skin was luminous. But her hair was all white. He could tell she was old. Her voice was a little tremulous. She was wearing a baggy housecoat like the one his own grandmother used to wear. But her skin…it glowed.
    â€œLook, I’m from