Angel (5 page)

Sue had taken over Shane's room as her own. It was littered with clothes, scarves, hats and an odd assortment of shoes and boots. His cork board, which, a couple of hours before, had been full of basketball posters, was now covered with pieces of paper of various shapes and sizes. Each one had some kind of instruction or message on it to remind Sue of her duties as house sitter.

Underneath the instructions on how to care for Webster, Shane had written the address and telephone number of the ski lodge on a large
coloured piece of card and surrounded it with ski pictures. He thought she might need it in an emergency, like the house burning down or something. He half expected disasters like that from Aunt Sue. She was always forgetting to turn things off or to lock doors when she went out. Shane had wondered at his parents' wisdom in asking her to stay in the house. He thought it might be safer empty.

The Hamiltons hadn't even backed out of the gate before she had had a mini disaster. She was dancing about madly with the bin when she took a nasty tumble in the driveway. Rob stopped the car and got out to help her up. She wasn't hurt, not even embarrassed. She just hopped and skipped into a tap dancing routine.

Jenny put her hands to her face and sighed, ‘Oh dear, I hope the house is still standing when we get back.'

‘Don't be silly, Jenny,' Rob scoffed. ‘She'll take
very good care of the place.' He glanced in his rear view mirror just in time to see Sue complete a series of farewell cartwheels down the driveway. Her final spin ended near the letterbox and she waved wildly until the holiday-makers were out of sight. Pulling and tugging at her hair she jingled off inside, humming to herself.

Sue spent most of the day reading and pottering. There wasn't much to do around the house. She watched an old movie in the greyness of the cloudy afternoon. Funnily enough, it was a movie about an angel. She taped it for Shane. When it had finished she felt inspired and so did some dramatic exercises in front of the bathroom mirror. She practised faces of terror, pain and sadness. She practised crying, laughing and dying. She scowled like a witch, howled like a werewolf and whimpered like a lost dog.

By the end of her dramatic interlude darkness had fallen, the wind had picked up and it was raining hard. Sue said farewell to the mirror in classical dramatic style and skipped like a gipsy down to the lounge room. She dropped into a soft chair and listened to the sound of the rain on the old tin roof. It reminded her of when she was a little girl and the times she had sat with her brother, Robbie, by the fire listening to their father tell ghost stories. The stories had terrified her and she could never sleep after hearing them. She had to go to bed with the light on.

‘Do you have to tell them those stories?' her mother would ask crossly. ‘You scare the life out of them.'

‘Nonsense, they love them,' her father would say, winking. ‘Don't you kids?'

They had loved to hear them. There was something exciting about being scared, as long
as there was someone else to be scared with. Rob was older and definitely braver than Sue but even he was frightened, although he never admitted it. He slept with his desk lamp on and pretended he needed it for reading, but Sue knew what he needed it for. They laughed about it now when they chatted about their childhood memories. Shane usually laughed along with them. He was often amused by the thought of his dad and Aunt Sue being brother and sister and squabbling like he and David used to.

Sue was thinking of Shane laughing when she looked up at a photograph on top of the television. David and Shane were making crazy faces. She smiled to herself as she walked up the passageway thinking how much like her and Robbie they were. She checked her list of jobs on the board and set to work. She was finished in no time.

Her evening was a lazy one. She had no rehearsals to attend or acting classes to take so she relaxed with cups of warm coffee and pieces of honey-laden toast. She sat cosily by the window reading and listening to the wild night outside. Occasionally, the mournful howl of the angry wind interrupted her and, looking out at the storm, she thought of Rob, Jenny and Shane.

They'd have some lovely snow to frolic in, she thought to herself. Eventually, yawning and stretching, Sue put her book down, locked up and headed for bed. She pulled the quilt up to her chin. There was hardly anything better than climbing into a warm bed on a cold stormy night. The sound of the wind and rain faded as she drifted off to sleep.

Almost immediately she waltzed into a wonderful dream. She was arriving at the Academy Awards ceremony. The cameras were
clicking, people were screaming and Sue was a star waving to her fans. Television crews scrambled towards her for an interview. They tugged at her, wanting a sentence, a word, a nod. Her bodyguards kept them away as she blew kisses to the crowds. Her hair glittered in the bright lights and her diamond necklace sparkled.

Along the deep red carpet she flitted, through the great doors and into the auditorium. Everyone stood as she entered. She took a bow as they applauded her arrival. How many awards would she win? Three, four, seven? This was her night.

Her latest movie,
My Father's Scary Stories
, the one she'd directed, produced and starred in, had been a box office smash. She heard the compere's voice echo around her. ‘And now for the Best Actress award …'

Sue clung to the arms of her seat. She was
ready to push herself up and dash to the stage in a frenzy of flashing lights and thunderous applause. She would hold the statue above her head and make a memorable speech.

The compere pulled the envelope apart. ‘And the winner is …' There was a pause. He looked stunned. He didn't continue. He was just staring into space.

Sue started to tingle all over. Things began to spin. The dream was falling apart, crumbling. She shivered and shook. She was falling, falling. The tingle worsened. Her body prickled with goose bumps. She was about to scream … She sat up sharply, breathing hard. She was awake. Her wide eyes stared into unfamiliar darkness. She couldn't remember where she was. She wasn't home. She saw something move out of the corner of her eye and she flicked her head sharply towards it. When she saw Webster swimming about in his aquarium she relaxed.
Everything fell neatly back into place. She took deep breaths and pushed some tickly wisps of hair from her face.

Everything was quiet, so quiet. She was listening to the silence when it happened.

The tingling she thought had been part of her dream washed over her body again. It was like something or someone had crawled into her body and out again. Her eyes darted about searching for an explanation: a draft, an open window. Then she thought she heard a noise, a soft, quiet movement by the door.

‘Is there someone there?' she asked nervously. ‘Who's there?' She waited, listening hard, her eyes wide with uncertainty. She didn't want to move, let alone get out of bed. Whoever or whatever it was might creep up behind her. At least where she was she could see it, if it was anything at all.

She clicked on Shane's bedside lamp and the
tingling sensation hit her again. She shuddered all over and let out a soft, frightened moan. All she could do now was sit and see what was going to happen next. She kept her eyes moving, searching for the answer. There was no wind finding its way through cracks or open windows. Sue wasn't feeling cold. It was the strangest feeling, one she hadn't felt before. Then she saw the papers on the cork board move ever so slightly and Webster suddenly have a burst of energy and dash around his aquarium at great speed. She clutched at the quilt and, like a star in the night sky, a brilliant thought flickered in the dark corners of her mind.

‘David!' she murmured.

The tingle hit her again with great power and incredible warmth. Sue was so astonished she could hardly breathe. She searched the room, trying to find something to fix her gaze upon: a
shape, a shadow, anything. Her hands felt warm, like they did when she tucked them under her jumper on cold days. It had to be David: had to be.

‘If you're looking for Shane and your mum and dad, they've gone on a holiday.' Sue pointed to Shane's poster with the details of the ski lodge beneath it. ‘They went to the snow — that's where they're staying.'

She paused and looked around the room again to see if there was any response to what she was saying. Nothing.

‘They thought Shane needed a holiday,' she continued. ‘He told them he saw you and that you said you were an angel. They think he's crazy. He's not though, is he?'

It happened again, stronger than ever. Sue's body was hit with an attack of the tingles. She squealed a giggly squeal of exhilaration. ‘Oh, ho! Whoa! I knew it was
you, David! I knew it! I knew Shane wasn't crazy!'

She looked around the room uncertain where to fix her gaze, gasping with excitement.

‘David, you've got to help him. Not only does everyone else think Shane's going crazy but he's starting to believe it himself.'

She adjusted her pillows and squirmed into a more comfortable sitting position ready for a big chat. ‘He said he waited for you but you didn't come back. So he figured it must have been a dream, like everyone else said it was. Just a dream, a wonderful one.'

Sue wrapped her arms around her knees, pulled them to her chest and rested her chin on them. ‘I told him I believed him but it didn't help much. He's always thought I was a bit crazy anyway,' she grinned. ‘In fact, when I told him he probably did think he'd gone crazy. He probably said to himself, well if Aunt
Sue believes it then I must be crazy.'

Sue paused thoughtfully. A clear picture of David laughing appeared in her mind. It was like watching him on a movie screen, so clear, so big and alive. His face was in bright sunlight and his hair was as shiny as she had ever remembered it. She closed her eyes to strengthen the image.

David had an earring on, a gold one shaped like a sword. It dangled, spun and twisted as he laughed. She had given him that earring for his birthday, the time she came dressed as a gorilla.

David had worn it every day after that. Sue savoured the image. She wasn't sure whether she had projected it into her mind or whether he was using angel power to share a treasured memory with her. She didn't mind either way. ‘I wish I could see you, David, like Shane saw you.'

There was no response, just emptiness. Sue knew what it meant.

‘That's okay,' she said softly. ‘I'll just chat away
and fill you in with what's been happening to me.'

And so that is just what she did. She talked tirelessly and with great dramatic enthusiasm about her recent triumphs on the stage as a killer clown in a murder mystery set at a circus. She talked about the new tv commercial she was doing dressed as a loaf of bread. And she talked about Rob, Jenny and Shane. Only happy things, funny things. She talked for hours and hours until, exhausted, she fell asleep.

The storm outside had worsened. It was very cold. Sue wasn't covered but she was warm, David made sure of that. Then he played with Webster for a while, checked out the snow pictures and set off in search of his family.

Shane was tired. The journey had been a long one and it was late. The drive through the mountains in the rain and snow was nerve-racking. The twists and turns in the road were treacherous in the icy conditions. The car felt as though it might slide off the road at any time. Rob had taken his time and remained surprisingly calm and patient.

When they finally found their chalet on the edge of the ski resort they were exhausted. After dragging out the bare essentials needed for a good night's sleep, the Hamiltons sat with
a warm drink of chocolate milk and gazed out at the falling snow. Their car was already covered with it and would probably be buried by morning. They could see the snowflakes swirling about in the wind under the lights that defined the boundaries of the resort.

Shane held his mug in both hands and felt the warmth of the steam on his face as he sipped. ‘Will it be good for skiing tomorrow, Dad?' he asked.

Rob had no idea. He'd been skiing a few times before he was married and wasn't a bad skier but he was no expert on snow conditions. He didn't want Shane to know that, though. ‘Well,' he said confidently, ‘I think it's going to be perfect. This will give us a good cover to ski on. It should firm up nicely.'

Shane was pleased that his father knew so much.

Jenny looked at Rob and shook her head. ‘We'll check at the resort office tomorrow,' she said. ‘They'll give us a report on the conditions and tell us which slopes we should try first. But now, let's get some sleep.'

Shane's room had a double bunk. He was going to sleep on the top one. He climbed the wooden ladder, rolled into bed and buried himself under the huge lumpy quilt. There was a long narrow window next to his bed and he could peer out into the night. Falling snow flickered silver from time to time. It was strange, almost alien, like being on a frozen planet, maybe Pluto. Shane was feeling the cold. His quilt was thick but he wasn't as warm as he was at home.

Home. Shane thought of Webster and scrunched himself into a ball, pushing his face into the softness of the quilt. He listened to his breathing and felt its warmth. He was asleep in
a matter of minutes. It was 12:30 am. At 1:30, he had company.

‘There you are,' said David softly as he floated into Shane's room. ‘I've found you at last.'

David watched Shane sleeping just as he'd done on the first visit. ‘Aunt Sue told me where you were but I would've found you anyway. We can find anyone anywhere, at any time. It's one of our tricks.'

Shane shuffled. He was restless. He rolled over, snorted and mumbled something.

David thought about waking him. He wanted to talk, to explain why he hadn't come back. How he'd been in terrible trouble for visiting earth without permission. Shane would understand. He knew what being in trouble was like.

Looking down at Shane, David decided it might not be a good idea to make contact.
Shane was tired, away from home and still confused. Aunt Sue was right. David was going to have to be careful. Shane might not talk to him if he showed himself at the wrong time. He would think it was just another dream, and he didn't want Shane to think he was going crazy.

David watched him as he tossed and turned. He felt like a burglar in fear of being caught in the act. He softened his glow as much as he could. Shane continued tossing backwards and forwards, tugging his quilt around with him. Then, with a sleep-laden moan, he was still.

David looked into Shane's mind to see if he could find the cause of his restlessness. Everything was dark and shadowy. There was movement. Strange figures lurched menacingly from the shadows, their eyes frosted like bathroom windows, their forms distorted by the pulsating strength of Shane's dream. There
were noises from nowhere and resonating through the darkness. It was unsettling David so it must've been terrifying Shane.

Then came the panic. The feeling that something was creeping up on you about to grab you, bite you, steal you away. There were noises, a growl, a groan, a hissing breath, a scream!

David pulled out. ‘Whoa! That's some nightmare.' He looked down at Shane and felt the strong emotional need to be the protective big brother. He suddenly thought of times when he hadn't been. Like when the Baker boys had stolen Shane's soccer ball at the park. They were bigger than Shane and had known David was too sick to fight. They'd stalked their prey with the terrifying menace of two crazed hyenas. They'd fought Shane, pushed him to the ground, hit him hard and laughed.

David had wanted to leap from his
wheelchair, get hold of them and wring their scrawny necks. He'd wanted energy and strength to match the anger that had burnt inside him. But he was too weak; all he could do was yell. Yell for help, yell for somebody else to come and do what he couldn't.

It was Aunt Sue who'd come to the rescue. Out of the kiosk she'd flown, reviving her stage role as a vampire, showing her fangs and screaming for blood. She'd scared the living daylights out of the little creeps.

It'd made David laugh and Shane happy but deep down David had felt as though he'd let his brother down. Any other big brother would've been able to sort those little toe rags out, but not David — pathetic, weak David.

At least this time he could do something to help. He had the power, the strength and the tricks. He lay next to Shane on the bunk, closed his eyes and brightened his body glow. White
soul sparks fell gently onto Shane's body like tiny distress flares.

‘Are you ready, Shaney boy?' he whispered playfully. ‘Cause here we go.'

Smiling broadly, David began to feed Shane dreams: bright dreams, happy ones. Dreams only an angel could offer. He made Shane a basketball hero, showed him what it felt like to fly and took him back to relive some of their favourite times together.

Shane's face was sculpted with peaceful serenity. A wisp of hair fell across his eyes. David brushed it away with a feather touch. He was happy with his work.

‘I've got to go now, Shane,' he said, sitting up and pushing himself off the bunk. ‘I'll see you soon, I hope.' Sad to be leaving but happy to see Shane contented, David faded away.

For the rest of the night Shane skipped from one fantastic dream to another. It was like a
supernatural computer game. He moved from being a basketball hero to fabulous flights through clouds and over mountains, then back into happy memories. What a journey, what an adventure!