A New York Romance by Abigail Winters Page B

right. I do feel better now that I let my secret out and you don’t think I am crazy because of it.”
    “I think if you really want to know what human love is like, you have to experience it for yourself. How else will you really know what you are helping people find?” she asked. “You’re like a car salesman who has never had a driver’s license,” she laughed. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Julie turned away.
    Charlie had a thoughtful mind and a kind heart, but Julie really did not want to get involved. Something inside her said to turn away, to not get too comfortable in that silence. She thought he was perhaps the kindest person she ever met, Cupid or not, but she was not attracted to him in a physical way, despite his relatively youthful, handsome appearance, hidden behind that brown corduroy coat and unkempt hair. She had always been attracted to the dangerous looking, bad boy type. She wanted the sense of danger, yet to be treated the way she knew Charlie would treat her. What was she thinking anyway? She had only known him a couple days and he claimed to have caused a bus crash with his thoughts, jumped off a building, and now claimed to be the god, Cupid. She turned her attention away from these thoughts.
    “Charlie?”
    “Yes, Juliet?”
    “I have one more question for you,” she said.
    “What is it?” he waited patiently.
    “If you’re Cupid…I mean when you took human form, where did you get the name Charlie Daniels?”
    “I chose the name.”
    “You chose the name Charlie Daniels?” she asked in disbelief, wondering why anybody but Charlie Daniels would want the name Charlie Daniels.
    “Yes, I chose it. My friend mentioned the name before, something about a song written about him. I liked it,” he explained.
    “You mean The Devil Went Down to Georgia by the Charlie Daniels Band? The song about Johnny betting his soul for a fiddle of gold?”
    “Yes, that’s the one,” he said with a sincere smile on his face. She could tell he was relaxed on the city streets again among the blaring horns and crowds of people, or was he so focused on her that he didn’t even notice the city?
    “Your friend mentioned the song was written about him? Are you friends with Johnny?” she asked using a semi-sarcastic tone, thinking his stories were getting a little too far out of hand.
    “No, I mean, well,” he stumbled for words, “I met Johnny. He’s a nice guy and all, but I would not say we’re close. After all, he did take my friend’s fiddle.”
    “Your ‘friend’s fiddle?’ You mean the Devil? You’re friends with the Devil?”
    “He does not like that title very much,” Charlie whispered, as if the Devil himself might hear. “He goes by Mephistopheles these days. It is much more contemporary and low key for him. He does not like all the attention.”
    “You’re saying you’re friends with the Devil, I mean Mephistopheles, the ruler of Hell? And that the song The Devil Went Down to Georgia is a true story?”
    “Oh yes, it is very true but he doesn’t steal souls. No one can control another person’s soul. He’s been a good friend of mine for a long, long, long time.”
    “But you help people love each other and he’s, well he’s the Devil,” she whispered as if the Mephistopheles himself might hear her. “How can you be friends with him ?”
    They entered the park. Charlie looked up at the giant trees. Despite their height, the buildings still formed the skyline behind them.
    “Oh, you humans got it all wrong,” he explained. “You see, Mephistopheles was not the only god, or angel, to get angry with God about all the suffering on Earth, in fact we all did, just as you humans do. But he’s really not a bad guy.”
    “If he’s not a bad guy then why is he ruling Hell?” Julie asked encouraging the unbelievable story.
    “Well, somebody had too.” Charlie paused remembering her humanness. He understood where she was coming from, the limitation of her