It's a Wonderful Life 1.5

"I don't have the money for the mortgage."

Annie smoothed out her skirt and swallowed as he moved closer to her. He's been drinking all right, she thought, repulsed by the smell of his breath, repulsed by his contorted, jowly face, and most of all, repulsed by his not being Vincent.

"I sold nothing this month. We have no money. Potter's going to foreclose on us once and for all."

"What about my salary?" Annie offered.

"We spent it all on your doctor's visits," Mr. Welch snarled. "Don't you remember how much you complained about that pain you were having?"

Annie felt hot flashes down her legs and her arms. She looked at him directly and said, "Maybe if you weren't wasting our money and booze and getting out and working, we wouldn't be in this mess."

It seemed Mr. Welch was unaccustomed to being spoken back to. His face reddened with fury, and his hands balled up in fists. "You don't EVER speak to me like that again."

"You don't even need to be here," Annie replied, not backing down. "I have a class to teach. You go drink some coffee and get back to work." She turned on her heels and walked back toward her classroom, feeling Welch's eyes burning through her, and hopeful the relative safety of the schoolhouse would prevent him from following her.

"We'll talk about this later!" Welch shouted.

"I'm sure we will," Annie said, not turning around. She felt herself trembling, hoping it didn't show, fearful from the confrontation and bracing herself for the inevitable next one.

As she turned the doorknob to her classroom Annie looked over her shoulder and up through the ceiling. "Nothing I can't handle? I trust you. What choice have I got? Hope I'm doing all right so far!"

A little voice inside her head spoke up, a little sing-songy voice Annie could have sworn sounded just like Glinda the Good Witch, "You're doing just fine, child. Use your faith. Walk to us. It's all we ask. Walk to us, and we'll run to you."

********************

"Is everything OK, dear?" Annie/Mrs. Welch's stand-in whispered.

"I'm fine, just fine, thanks. Oh, and can you oversee the class for just two more minutes? I wanted to check my lesson planner for a second."

"Of course, of course, dear. Class, let's get cracking on those cursive letters some more."

A collective groan rose up from the class as the children resumed their quest for the perfect cursive "F". The goal was to make it through the entire alphabet that afternoon.

Which is exactly what Annie saw in the lesson plan. Bo-ring, she thought to herself. I'm not going to sit here and fret about what's going to happen later. I'm going to be here, now, and in the moment. Time for a fun afternoon.

After she dismissed the assistant, she turned to her class. "OK, everybody, let's do something a little different this afternoon, a little boys versus girls contest."

"Yay!" the class shouted.

"OK, I'll ask a question, and will call on the first hand I see. First question, who is the president of the United States?" Annie was a little confused about what year it was and curious about the answer.

Several hands shot up at once. "Marty?"

"Franklin Delamino Roosevelt!"

Annie giggled. "Delano. But we'll give you credit for it." A few of the girls booed. "That's one for the boys."

"Grab your pencil and paper now. What is eight plus four?"

"Eleven!" said Donald Wainwright.

"Nooo," Annie said. "Write it out, Donald."

"Twelve!" shouted Zuzu.

"You got it, Zuzu. Good job."

"How many States are there in the United States?"

"That's easy! Forty-eight!" said Donald, eager to redeem himself.

"Hmmm, I don't think so," Annie said.

"Yes, there ARE," Donald protested. "That's not fair!"

"I think there are fifty," Annie persisted. "Anyone?"

"Teacher?" Zuzu slowly raised her hand. "I don't really want to help out the boys," she said, making a face at Donald, "but I'm pretty sure there are forty-eight."

"You forgot Alaska and Hawaii," Annie said.

"Huh?" said Zuzu. "THOSE aren't states."

Annie started to squirm a bit. "Who here thinks there are fifty states?" A few shrugs and a couple shakes of the head. "OK, Donald, I couldn't trip you up," Annie said, trying to recover. "Good job. Another one for the boys!"

The hours of the afternoon flew by like moments. As the day wore down, Annie began to run out of questions for her class.

"OK, my sweethearts, a couple more questions. Looks like you girls have a pretty good lead." It was Girls 32, Boys 20 by then. Annie glanced over in Zuzu's direction. "What is the chemical symbol for water?"

Zuzu's hand shot up at once. "H two O," she said, her face beaming.

"That's right, honey." Annie looked up at the clock. "One more question. Spell 'apothecary'."

There was a mixture of scrunched up faces and blank looks. Annie could see the wheels churning in Zuzu's head. Zuzu finally put her hand up, tentatively.

"A-P-O-T-H…umm…E…uh…C…A-R-Y??" Zuzu rushed through the last three letters before they had a chance to be wrong.

Annie thought for a moment herself. "YES! You got it, great job, Zuzu." What a shame, she thought.

Just then the school bell rang. Anna shouted over the noise of children gathering up their belongings. "Teacher, what about the prize of the day?"

"Hold on a minute, everyone," Annie said. "And who do you think deserves it?"

"Zuzu! She got the most questions right! Give her the flower!" Anna said, pointing at the single flower in a glass jar sitting on the window sill.

"All right, Anna Montana!"

"Anna Montana? That's silly!"

"Yeah," Annie said, "I suppose it was. Go get the flower, Zuzu."

As the children filed out, Annie noticed Mickey trailing behind Alfalfa. "Mickey, honey," Annie called after him. "Can you come up here a minute?"

Mickey looked up at his teacher with sad eyes. "Am I in trouble?"

"No sweetie." Annie bent down to Mickey's level, feeling pain searing through her knees. She put her two hands on his shoulder and looked at him straight in his eyes. "I'm going to tell you something, and I don't ever want you to forget it."

"What is it, Teacher?"

"Don't do the crime, if you can't do the time."

"What?"

"You just remember that, Mickey. There will be a moment in your life where that advice will come in handy. Now run along home." As she ushered Mickey on his way, Annie saw Zuzu almost out the door.

"Zuzu! Zuzu, come back here!"

"Yes, Teacher?"

"Your coat, it's wide open!"

"I don't want to crush my flower!" Zuzu said, her prize sticking out from her half-zipped overcoat.

Annie thought for a moment. "Hold on a minute, sweetie." Annie reached into her pocketbook and grabbed her medicine bag. She dumped her pills into her the pocketbook, and gently picked the flower out from Zuzu's coat, placing it into the now empty Ziploc bag. "Here."

"What's THAT?" Zuzu asked.

"It's called a Ziploc," Annie said. "Now let me at that overcoat." Annie zipped up Zuzu's coat all the way, and buttoned up every single button. "Do you have a hat?"

"Yes, Teacher."

"Put it on. And carry the Ziploc like this." Annie pinched the bag between her thumb and forefinger. It will be fine until you get home."

"Thank you, Teacher!" Annie bent down as Zuzu stepped toward her. The little girl wrapped her arms tightly around Annie's neck.

Little girls' hugs are the best! Annie thought.

"I love you, Teacher."

"I love you, too, sweetie. You be safe."

Zuzu ran out the door, almost colliding with the office assistant who had been there earlier. The assistant waited at the door for the last child to leave, and then came inside. Annie realized she still had no idea what her name was.

"If you need ANYTHING, Mrs. Welch, please let me know."

"Thanks."

"You can call me or Bert anytime. You know that. Bert won't tolerate anything, you just let us know, all right."

"All right, I will." Now if I just knew where I LIVED, Annie thought. She grabbed her makeup mirror to fix herself. Her eyes bugged out as she looked at the reflection staring back at her.

"Yikes," Annie said out loud, quickly shutting the mirror as if to make her face disappear. Doubtfire before Electrolysis! She laughed at herself and looked back at the sky. Nothing I can't handle!

********************

The Glinda voice became Annie's personal GPS system, guiding her toward her Bedford Falls home. Annie found herself in the middle of downtown, right beside the Emporium, and was about to turn down a side street when she saw Violet Bick coming out of the Bailey Building and Loan, crying.

"Violet?"

Violet recognized her grammar school teacher immediately. "Hello, Mrs. Welch."

"What is it, child?" Annie was starting to pick up the local vernacular.

"I'm leaving town," Violet sobbed. "For good."

"Why so drastic?" Annie asked her. "Everyone will miss you."

"You think so?" Violet looked puzzled. "You're the first woman to say something nice to me, in, well, I don't know HOW long!"

Annie smiled an empathetic smile. "You've always looked so beautiful. All the women get kind of jealous. Maybe you could help us discover your secrets."

"How?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe a beauty shop. Or, an exercise club?"

"Huh?"

"You could start a club to help get the women in better shape here. You know how fat some of them are!"

"Mrs. Welch with all due respect…"

"I know, honey, I'm a real lardass…" Violet began to giggle. "Do you know what pilates are?"

"Pilates?"

"Here let me show you." Annie made a few basic moves. "Like this. Think about it. I'm sure more people than you think would love for you to stay."

"I'll think about it." Violet's eyes began to twinkle. "Merry Christmas, Mrs. Welch."

"Merry Christmas, Violet."

********************

The Glinda Positioning System took Annie home to a small bungalow in a run-down neighborhood not far from downtown. She let herself in through the unlocked door, her nose filling up with the musty air. She flipped on a light, as twilight was already setting in, and made her way into the kitchen, where she found a list of things for her to do, scrawled out in what she presumed to be her husband's handwriting.

Sweep out the fireplace.

Prepare my dinner. MY dinner. What a shithead.

Clean chicken cages. Chicken cages? Eww.

Beat the carpets.

Polish the silverware.

What a slavedriver, Annie thought. Nothing I can't handle. At least I know what to do until the bastard comes back home drunk as a skunk. Annie found an apron, and quickly popped a Motrin and a Lipitor. She laughed at her oral contraceptives. Better take it anyway, assuming I get back in one piece. I'm sure as shit ain't gonna need 'em here!

********************

The Italian music played in the background as George Bailey clasped his hands and looked toward heaven. "God... God... Dear Father in Heaven, I'm not a praying man, but if you're up there and you can hear me, show me the way. I'm at the end of my rope. Show me the way, God," George Bailey pleaded.

"Are you all right George?" Nick the Bartender said in a friendly tone. "Want someone to take you home?"

"Why you drink so much, my friend? Please go home, Mr. Bailey. This is Christmas Eve," Mr. Martini the Proprieter said.

Mr. Welch, cross-eyed drunk from having spent the last several hours at Martini's, looked over at George Bailey. "Bailey? Which Bailey?" he asked.

"This is Mr. George Bailey," Nick said.

George turned to the drunken man, half-blind himself. "George Bailey. Bailey Building and Loan."

"Building and Loan, eh? I could have used your help. Potter is about to foreclose on me."

George was hardly in his usual benevolent mood, having had more than his own dose of Potter that day. "Oh yeah, well what kind of job do you have?"

"I'm a marshmallow salesman," Welch said. "Things haven't been going too well."

The word "marshmallow" struck George as odd. He looked up at the sky and said, "Marshmallows? That's an answer to a prayer?"

"What?" Mr. Welch bellowed. "I'm not good enough for you either?" Without warning, Welch threw a vicious punch at George, who fell to the ground, dazed.

"You get out of here, Mr. Welch!" Martini screamed.

"Now wait…I want to pay for my drink."

"Never mind the money," Martini said. "You get out of here quick."

"All right," Welch said.

"You hit my best friend," Martini said, as he and Nick shoved Mr. Welch out the door.

Welch stumbled into the snowy evening, nearly falling down as he tried to get his bearings. His car had been repossessed, so he had to walk back to his house. He cursed under his breath as he made his way home, vowing to get his pound of flesh once he got there.

********************

Annie checked the clock. Almost nine PM, she thought. I wonder how much longer. She figured if history was still playing out, her "husband" had already decked George Bailey. Annie had completed all the items on the list, save for the chicken cages. There was no way she was going near those.

Annie didn't have to wait long, as she heard the crunch of shoes getting louder. The front door swung open as Annie murmured a silent prayer. "God…DAMMIT!" Mr. Welch shouted, not for any specific reason.

Annie braced herself in the living room. "How was your day, dear?"

"You know what kind of day I had. I hope you have something to dress warmly in. We'll be out in the street in the morning."

"Everything will be closed in the morning. It's Christmas," Annie said, eyeing Welch's every move.

"Don't count on it."

"So, have you been in a fight again?"

"Did Martini call here?" Welch demanded.

"He didn't have to," Annie said.

Welch growled at her like a wounded lion, beaten down, angry, and stinking drunk. "You think you know everything, you BITCH! What makes you think you can start talking back to me? WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?"

Annie knew any answer would set Welch off at this point. As she stood there, saying nothing, Welch stepped toward her, shoving her with both of his paws against the wall. "Seems you don't have a lot to say now, do you, woman?"

"Dinner is ready anytime you want it."

Welch didn't seem to hear her. "You've gotten a bit feisty today. You dip into the cooking sherry yourself?" An evil grin spread across his face. "Maybe you got the money somehow. Maybe some man? Who have you been with today?"

Annie nearly laughed at the notion. Yeah, I'm a real prize at the moment, Buster. She maintained her silence in an effort to keep his simmering rage from boiling over. Welch got right in her face. Annie felt bile rise in her throat as she caught a whiff of his breath.

"Maybe he wasn't half the man I am," he said. Welch ripped off Annie's apron, and grabbed her fleshy thigh, rubbing it roughly. Annie felt like passing out, praying that she would.

Nothing I can't handle.

With a jutted jaw, Annie looked at him with deadass eyes and said through her teeth, "You take that goddamned hand of yours off me this minute."

"I'll touch you anytime I want. And anywhere I want," Welch said. "Are you someone else's whore? Are you?"

Her voice even, her gaze never leaving his, she repeated, "You take that hand off me right now. I mean it."

"You mean it?" Welch mocked. "I'll knock your goddamned block off. Worse than when I pushed you down those stairs."

Seems it's not just the osteoporosis that's causing all the pain in this poor body.

Welch raised his hand to grab Annie's breast. Annie intercepted it before it reached its target, holding Welch by the wrist. As he lunged toward her, Annie spun him around and gave him a swift kick in his behind, sending the drunken man sprawling.

He was dazed only momentarily. He scrambled to his feet and screamed, "You are fucking dead, you bitch!" One more time he came at Annie, only to walk into a haymaker. Welch saw stars, and then nothing. He felt for his jaw, now throbbing in pain, as his eyes rolled back in his head, his enormous body thumping to the floor.

Amazing what fifty extra pounds can do to a punch, Annie thought.

"Nice fightin' with you, you glassjawed pussy!" She resisted the urge to kick him in his side. He wasn't feeling anything anyway.

"Zuzu! ZUZU!!" Annie shouted. "I get it. I've had enough. Take me home!"

The bubble appeared almost imperceptibly in the corner of the living room, growing larger by the second until, standing before her, was a very familiar figure with wings and a large wand.

"Glinda?" Annie asked.

"That's right, dear," Glinda said in her sing-songy voice. "It seems you have disposed of this horrible man. At least temporarily."

"Why are you here? I mean, I'm glad you're here, but…"

Glinda smiled and laughed, "It's all right, dear. Agent SCRIPT is having some time-space continuum issues at the moment, and so CLOCKMAKER sent me to assist. Besides, I have some business to attend to anyway."

"CLOCKMAKER?"

"He's the one in charge now. Though he's down here right now, too." Glinda laughed again. "He's probably soaking wet as we speak!"

"Clarence!" Annie said. "He sent you?"

"That's right," Glinda said. "Agent CYCLONE at your service."

"I want to go home."

"Do you think you've learned anything?"

"I think so." Annie paused. "I know so. It's faith, Glinda. And not just when times are bad. You need it in the good times, and even…" she paused again, "when they are just, okay. And it was you today who told me, yes, walk to you…"

"…Yes, my dear, and we will run to YOU!"

"And that my life, my husband, oh God, my husband Vince, are so very precious."

"Yes, dear."

"I'm so lucky."

"Yes, you are."

"I've been given a great gift. The gift of, making my life whatever I want to be. Yes, I think I've learned a valuable lesson," Annie said, her right hand beginning to throb from her knockout punch.

"There is one more thing, dear," Glenda paused. "And that is to love yourself. Love yourself more than Vince could possibly love you. Which is a lot. See what he sees. Feel what he feels. Every day and every moment."

"And live every moment, in the moment," Annie added.

"As if it's your last," they both said together.

"Definitely, I'm ready to go home," Annie said. "What about him?" she asked, pointing to the heap on the floor.

"He won't be waking up anytime soon," Glinda said.

"I didn't hit him that hard," Annie said.

"Don't worry," Glinda said with a knowing smile.

Annie's eyes narrowed. "Poppies?" she asked.

Glinda's smile turned guilty. "Let's just say that my sister wasn't the only one who could mix up a kickass potion."

Annie resisted her very bad Wicked Witch of the West impression, instead getting back on point. "What about the real Mrs. Welch?"

"Don't worry about her either," Glinda said. "You and George Bailey aren't the only ones getting interventions this evening."

"So, Agent CYCLONE, what do I need to do, click my heels three times?"

"That's right!"

"I was kidding."

"It really does work, my dear, especially since you're ready to go back home."

"Do I have to say 'There's no place like home'?"

"No, dear," Glinda laughed. "Don't believe everything you see in Hollywood." She waved her wand as Annie clicked her heels.

"Thanks for everything, Glinda."

"It's my pleasure, my dear," Glinda said, her face becoming blurry in Annie's view.

********************

Annie's eyes opened slowly. She found herself on her familiar couch in front of her familiar TV. She bounced up out of her seat, almost losing her balance as she felt momentarily groggy. Reaching up toward the ceiling with both arms she exclaimed "Thank you!" spun around once, and hugged herself. This is my body again, she thought.