Calling the Shots (3 page)

“Why, do you think you’ll like GA work?” Orlando seemed genuinely interested.

I tried to sound nonchalant. “Maybe. You’ll have to ask me again when I get back.”

We were walking past the Sanctuary. I caught my breath as I caught a glimpse of the beautiful shining beings moving to and fro between the pillars.

The Sanctuary angels devote their entire existence to healing. I could feel their tender vibes streaming through the twilight. It was so lovely I could have cried.

“Remember the first time you saw injured agents coming back from Earth?” Orlando said softly. “You asked me what kind of human would hurt an angel.”

I’d been shocked to the core when Orlando told me about the evil forces which deliberately try to sabotage our work on Earth. The Agency refers to them as the Opposition. My mates and I just call them the PODS, short for Powers of Darkness.

“I guess I’m the type who has to learn the hard way,” I said ruefully.

Orlando’s eyes were gentle. “You were just innocent.”

I felt a little ache of loss. “I was. Until I met Brice.”

The truth is, Brice and innocence don’t exactly mix. It’s like, even before we met, we had this embarrassing history. He worked for the PODS, at least he used to. To complicate things, he looked exactly like this boy I used to fancy at my old school. Until you saw his eyes, which were totally empty.

I ran into him on my first ever field trip to Earth, and by complete beginner’s luck, got the better of him. Unfortunately bad-boy Brice wasn’t your forgive-and-forget type. Like the Demon King in a tacky pantomime, he popped up during our mission to Tudor times and gave our buddy Reuben a horrifying beating. Lola and I only just got to Reubs in time. Thanks to the Sanctuary angels, Reuben was now completely recovered from his injuries, but the memory still upset me.

“The guy’s like a total outlaw,” I told Orlando angrily. “He isn’t even a real PODS. He’s an angel who changed sides. Can you believe that?”

His expression was annoyingly serene. “I heard he had his reasons.”

I snorted. “Oh, please. We ran into him in the future, remember? He told us this big sob story and I really wish he hadn’t.”

Orlando looked genuinely bewildered. “Why?”

“It’s just too confusing. I mean, is Brice a good guy who temporarily went bad, an evil joker pretending to be good, or just a lost little puppy who needs a home?” I tugged at my hair. “Aargh! I just want to forget about him.”

Orlando has this unnerving ability to read my mind. “But you feel responsible for him at the same time,” he suggested.

“I suppose,” I admitted. “I mean, he sold his soul to the PODS purely to save his little brother from their evil Mafia-type family.”

He succeeded too, with a bit of angelic cooperation. (It’s a long story!). But just as Michael and everyone arrived to tie up any loose ends, Brice totally vanished. It’s like he was ashamed to show his face. Obviously I still hated the jerk as much as ever, but I couldn’t help worrying about what would happen to him. When I tried asking Michael he just went into Yoda mode, something about taking the long-term view and trees eventually turning into diamonds.

I sighed. “Brice blew it with our Agency. He’s blown it with the PODS. Where else is there?”

Orlando didn’t answer and I realised we’d arrived back at my dorm.

“So um, where are you off to now?” I said awkwardly.

Orlando looked down at his trainers and I sneaked the opportunity to admire his beautiful eyelids. “I’m due down at the Angel Watch centre.”

“But that’s in the complete opposite direction!”

“I know.” Giving me one of his sweet enigmatic smiles, Orlando strolled off into the dark.

I stared after him in wonder. Was it possible, after all our fights and misunderstandings, that this incredible boy actually liked me? A soppy smile spread over my face.

A sudden chilling thought brought me back to reality. In a few hours I was going on my first GA assignment and I had absolutely nothing to wear!

I hurtled up to my room and tried out every look you can think of; streetwise, funky, cute ‘n’ fluffy - until my bed was totally buried under clothes

Finally I plumped for my shocking pink Kung Fu Kitty T-shirt, teamed with bootleg jeans and suede sandals. I thought I’d created the perfect look for today’s guardian angel; stylish yet girly, caring yet seriously feisty.

I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink, so I spent the rest of the night perched on the edge of my chair, clutching my flight bag and listening to Reuben’s song through my headphones. “You’re not alone,” I sang bravely. “You’re not alone.”

At last the Agency limo purred into the car park. I ran down, jumped into the front - and almost had a heart attack. Michael was in the driver’s seat!

“Hi,” he said calmly. “I thought we could talk on the way down.”

I gulped. I could only think of one reason for Michael playing chauffeur. He was going to haul me over the coals for my outburst earlier that day. “If it’s about my attitude,” I quavered, “I’m really—”

He shook his head. “I wanted to talk about Brice.”

Yeah, well I don’t, OK?

“Oh, right,” I said aloud.

Michael explained that he’d recently tracked down my old enemy to some obscure cosmic hideout. Since then they’d met up several times “on neutral ground”, as Michael put it. I pictured the two of them sitting on some little rock far out in space, the archangel and the boy with beautiful empty eyes, having some deep discussion about good and evil.

To my surprise, I was OK with this. I was glad Michael was keeping an eye on Brice. That way I totally didn’t need to worry about him anymore.

“The dilemma is, what now?” Michael sighed. “We knew when we accepted him into the Academy that it wasn’t going to be easy. But his soul scan was outstanding, so we decided to take the long-term view.”

“Oh yeah, trees and diamonds,” I remembered. “Too bad it didn’t work out.”

I love Michael to bits, but I really wasn’t in the mood to play cosmic agony aunt. In a few minutes I’d be alone on Earth, with just my wits and my cosmic mobile phone for protection, and the thought made me completely weak at the knees.

Michael suddenly looked apologetic. “Sorry, Melanie, you probably want to know where you’re going? “

“Well…” I began doubtfully.

Then he told me and I screamed my head off!

”
Omigosh, omigosh, omigosh
!” I burbled. “That is SO cool!”

He smiled. “It is a fascinating period. An era of massive change and contradictions. You could say it’s when modern times properly began.”

I was still trying to take it in. I couldn’t believe it. I was going to what has to be the most exciting country in the world, during its most stylish era ever -1920s USA!

Chapter Three

I
t was three o’clock in the morning and I’d expected Departures to be deserted. In fact, to my surprise, hundreds of trainee GAs were milling around with their luggage.

I felt a rush of pride. We were all in this together. We’d all been summoned by the same awesome cosmic force. I felt so honoured that I kept smiling at complete strangers!

Can you believe I had to join
four
separate queues to pick up all my Agency stuff? My 1920s info pack, my special Agency watch, my mobile and finally my angel tags, the platinum discs we wear when we’re on official Agency business.

Usually, Lola and I help each other to fasten them, but this time I had to manage on my own. I was still struggling with the clasp when the door of my portal slid shut. Al, my favourite maintenance guy, rapped on the glass, making me jump. “Ready?” he mouthed.

I gave Al and Michael a shaky thumbs-up. Next minute the portal lit up like the Fourth of July and I was catapulted out of Heaven.

I’ve done heaps of time-travelling since I arrived at the Academy, but it is still like a total miracle to witness all those millions of years of Earth’s history streaming past in a matter of moments.

While I waited to land, I had a squint at my information pack, and discovered I was heading for the city of Philadelphia to watch over a girl called Honesty Bloomfield.

I felt a happy little zing inside my heart. I just knew that Honesty was going to be really special. I suspected she might be some kind of celebrity, like a child movie star or whatever.

Hang about
, I thought,
have they invented movies yet?

I riffled through my notes and was thrilled to find out that movie-making really took off in the Twenties.
That’s it!
I thought excitedly.
Honesty’s this feisty girl who has dreams of being a big star, but she’s from totally the wrong side of the tracks, so she needs my help to overcome her many obstacles and make her dream come true
.

The colours outside the portal grew intensely clear and bright. Any minute now, I’d be touching down.

I counted under my breath. Four, three, two, ONE!

With a final burst of light, the portal vanished and I found myself all alone on planet Earth.

I gazed around at the sunny silent street with its flowering cherry trees and manicured gardens and my heart sank into my suede sandals.

How could they DO this to me? I’m a city girl. Suburbs, especially posh, manicured suburbs, are simply not my style.

I quickly squashed my negative thoughts.
So what if it’s the right side of the tracks,
I scolded myself
. Probably Honesty hates it too. Probably she’s this major square peg, and you’re here to help her find the courage to defy her uptight family and become an all-singing, all-dancing star of the silver screen!

This was such a cool scenario that I instantly cheered up.

My Agency watch beeped and I started to run through my landing procedure. I was just checking the prevailing thought levels, when I heard someone singing. I felt a tingle of angel electricity as I recognised the Nickelodeon tune.

Two girls were coming down the street. The younger girl was lolloping along like a playful puppy, really belting out the song, hideously off-key. Her sister was peering at a book through a pair of owlish spectacles, reading as she walked. They both wore dowdy school uniforms with hems trailing around their ankles and round felt hats like pork pies.

For the first time I got a good look at the first girl and felt the strangest chime inside my heart, as if two pieces of a puzzle had finally come together. At least, that’s how the angel me was feeling. My inner bimbo was like, yippee! It’s my future film star!

Honesty unfastened some white gates and gave her sister a nudge. “Rose,” she prompted “We’re back.”

“Uh-huh,” mumbled Rose. She trudged up the drive, still reading, and Honesty lolloped happily after her.

They were heading for the grandest house in the street. It was one of those painted clapboard houses with a front porch, and had a huge garden. I’m talking swimming pool and tennis courts,
that
kind of huge. Piano music was pouring from a downstairs window.

At this point, my angel self was going; it’s not Honesty’s fault she was born into a humungously rich family, she could still be a really worthwhile person! But a doubting voice said -
if she’s got so much going for her, why the sassafras would she need me?

Honesty opened the front door and Rose headed upstairs still reading, seeming to find her way via some kind of personal radar.

Honesty dumped her school bag down in the hall. She went bounding into a front parlour where a woman with a faraway expression was playing the piano. Honesty called to her over the torrent of sound. “Hi, Mama. I’m home.”

The music stopped. “Well, hi, sweetheart!”

Honesty’s mum was exceptionally pretty, with her fair hair swept up in smooth coils. She held out her arms and Honesty walked right into them.

“How was your day, sugar?” Her mum’s voice had a smoky southern lilt, like Scarlett in that old film Gone with the Wind.

“OK, I guess. Only got a B+ in my maths test though.”

I stared at her. Only got a B+! I personally am ecstatic if I get a C!

“Never mind, sugar,” said her mum. “Everyone has off days.”

Her fingers strayed towards the piano keys, and I could tell she was dying to continue playing. “Why don’t you run and ask Cissie to gel you some milk and cookies?” she suggested.

Oh, wha-at!
I thought.
These people have servants!

But Honesty still hovered as if she had something on her mind. “Mama, did Papa say any more about buying a car? Every time I ask him, he says he’s thinking about it. I don’t understand what there is to think about. It’s not like we don’t have the money!”

Her mother gave a husky laugh. “Sweetheart, men are as stubborn as mules. They won’t budge unless they think it’s all their own idea. Give him a few more weeks and he’ll come round, I swear.”

“It’s not fair,” Honesty complained. “We’re the only kids in Philadelphia whose father is still stuck in the nineteenth century.”

“Honesty, that’s enough,” said her mother crisply. “Your father is the hardest-working, biggest-hearted man I know and I will not allow you to criticise him this way.”