Winging It (5 page)

I gave her a watery grin. “We listened to a couple of those in Music. There was this one that had about a gazillion endings, like durn, durn DURN! And then, blam, blam BLAM! And it
still
wasn’t over!”

“Exactly,” she beamed. “But our lives, Mel, yours and mine - they just went flashing by, like songs from a car radio. You know those vibey little tunes that put you in a great mood for the rest of the day?”

She hummed a catchy little riff, then broke off. “Do those songs need to be any longer?” she demanded. “I don’t
think
so, Melanie! They are perfect, just the way they are.”

I couldn’t help laughing. Lola certainly had a way of putting things. Though personally I’d have preferred a combo-option. A vibey, feel-good, Melanie Beeby symphony with a gazillion endings.

“You know this morning,” I said, “when you all rushed into my room? You knew what was going to happen, didn’t you?”

“Oh, Mel! I feel so terrible about that!”

“Not the stupid initiation,” I said impatiently. “The angels. Are they…?” It was hard to explain what I felt. “I mean, one day will we, like, grow into
them
?”

Lola shook her head. “The ones you saw perform really specialised cosmic tasks. They deal with the natural world mostly. They don’t have much to do with humans or feelings.”

“Or shopping?” I suggested.

Lola giggled. “OK, OK. I can take a hint!”

On our way out of the cafe, I was interested to see that Lola didn’t hand over any money. She just flashed some kind of ID at Mo.

“See you later, Ms Sanchez,” he grinned.

“Hey, do I get one of those?” I asked hopefully.

“Sure, once you get through your probationary term.”

I was horrified. “You mean the Academy sometimes kicks people out?

Isn’t the brain weird? Yesterday I was prepared to tunnel my way out with a teaspoon. Now suddenly I wanted to be voted Heaven’s Most Popular Angel!

Lola shrugged. “You’d have to really screw up to get expelled. Don’t look so worried,” she said sympathetically. “It’s never going to happen. And you’ll know the instant your probation’s up, because that’s when you get your like, real angel name. Honestly, that is the coolest moment!” She went all dreamy, remembering.

I felt a pang of jealousy. I wanted to know my angel name too. “Do you know mine?” I pleaded. “Can’t you tell me? Just a little sneak preview?”

Lola shook her head, still dreamy. “You’re the only one who knows it. It’s like something that’s already locked inside you. And one day the key turns, and you hear it. And it’s like you always knew.”

A vague memory stirred at the back of my mind. “That’s so weird,” I whispered. “When I was little—”

But Lola had jumped up. “Come on, Mel! It’s time to spend spend spend!”

My mood changed in a flash. “But I don’t have ID!” I wailed. “How am I going to pay for it?”

Lola’s eyes gleamed. “Melanie Beeby,” she said. “You are SO going to love this place!”

She was right. But several hours later, as Lola and I walked back into Guru with at least a dozen carrier bags, I still couldn’t believe it.

The instant Lola told the salespeople who I was, they let me have everything I needed. Just like that! OK, I didn’t strictly need that sweet little grey dress with all the beading. But after Lola said how great it looked on me, I couldn’t bear to leave it behind.

While we waited for our smoothies to arrive, I gazed around Guru, happily admiring the decor. Also, I have to admit, the boys!

Something occurred to me. “It’s lucky everyone speaks such great English here,” I said. “I am SO useless at languages.”

Lola looked so tickled, that I felt myself turning red. “What did I say?”

“That’s so cute! You really think we’re talking in English!” Lola patted my arm. “Mel, you’re an angel! You understand every human language ever invented. But in this city, you speak, well - Angel. Like the rest of us.”

I let my head fall on to the table. “AAARGH!” I growled. “This place is too angel for words! Angel this, angel that. Now you’re telling me there’s some weird angel
language
?”

“Languages,” Lola corrected. “If you want to get technical.” She knocked back the rest of her smoothy. “Let’s head home and you can give me an exclusive fashion show.”

“Now
that’s
my language,” I said promptly.

We walked home, taking a different route this time. It was getting late and a soft blue twilight was falling on the streets. On the way, we passed this kind of Greek temple building, set in really beautiful gardens. They were like the most beautiful wild flower meadows you could ever imagine, only with that extra heavenly something…

I suddenly caught my breath. Between the stone pillars, I could see shining beings, quietly moving to and fro. Each of them was surrounded by a haze of coloured light. I was too far away to see what they were doing, but it was so peaceful, it made me want to cry.

“What’s this place?” I whispered. “I mean, is it like some special angel hang-out?”

Lola stared at me. “Oh, you’re good!” she said slowly.

I felt my cheeks getting hot. “Did I say something stupid again?”

“I’m serious,” she said. “You really pick up on vibes, don’t you? I mean, apart from the Agency building, the Sanctuary has to have the most angel vibes in this entire city.”

“But what are they all doing in there?”

“It’s a kind of hospital,” Lola said. “The guys who work in there specialise in angel healing arts.”

I was just going to ask why in the world angels would need to go to hospital, when a sensation of utter horror flashed through me. It was so strong, I literally doubled up.

Lola shivered. “They must be bringing some agents back.”

As we stood there, hypnotised, beams of white light came strobing down from the sky. The instant the light-beams touched down, hosts of heavenly paramedic types stepped out. The Sanctuary angels came hurrying to meet them, and both sets of angels started ferrying fleets of gauzy stretchers into the sanctuary.

From the smooth way they conducted this operation, I got the feeling this was not an unusual event. Everyone knew the drill. No-one ran. No-one yelled. Everyone was totally calm. Yet there was an electric urgency that you could almost taste.

“If I didn’t know this was Heaven, I’d think they’d been airlifted out of a war zone or something,” I whispered.

Lola looked as sick as I felt. “You’d be right. They just came back from Earth.”

I forced myself to look at the wounded agents being carried past us. It’s not easy to describe, but they all had this identical look. Some of them had terrible injuries, but from my new angel perspective, I somehow knew that these visible injuries weren’t the point. The true damage was deep down. It showed in their eyes and skin, but most of all it showed in their deadly stillness. It was like all their wonderful angel radiance had been drained out of them.

Suddenly Michael was coming towards us through the crowd.

“Lola, Melanie,” he said quietly. “You should get back to school.”

One of the sanctuary staff came out to meet him. They disappeared inside, looking deadly serious.

I realised Orlando was standing next to me. I must have looked like I was in total shock, because he said, “Are you OK?”

“I don’t get it,” I whispered. “Aren’t we immortal now? I mean, how come people can still hurt us like this?”

Looking back, I can see that Orlando really didn’t want to be the one to break this to me. His expression was so grim that I started shivering, even before he said the words.

“Those agents weren’t hurt by humans, Mel.”

I was bewildered. “Then who?”

He sighed. “Their name varies according to time and place. We generally refer to them as the Opposition.”

Such a neutral word, but it shook me to the core.

Until that moment, I’d been living inside some rosy bubble, where angels automatically lived happily and stylishly ever after.

Now the dream was over.

Chapter Six

I
f there was a dance called the Melanie Beeby, it would go like this. One step forward, two steps back. One step forward, two steps back…

It’s not that I
forgot
the scene outside the Sanctuary when I got back. It’s more that it really scared the sassafras out of me. So I told myself I
totally
didn’t need to know about any gruesome old Opposition. It was one of those grown-up things, like the ozone layer, which needn’t concern me.

Next day we started school, and I had more important stuff to think about. Mr Allbright might look sweet and fuzzy, but that guy doesn’t let you get away with a
thing
.

I know what you’re thinking. Melanie Beeby hitting the books - this is a joke, right? But for your information, I had totally turned over a new leaf. To be honest, it was mostly down to Mr Allbright. He’s a completely
brilliant
teacher.

In our science class he showed us some cool little atoms grooving away, as if life was one big cosmic party. He said the point of showing us these little guys was so we’d know that absolutely everything in the universe is alive.

“What, even stones?” I said wittily

“I’m glad you said that, Melanie,” Mr Allbright beamed, and before you could say “Big-mouth-Beeby,” he’d dragged the whole class down to the beach.

“I want each of you to choose a pebble,” he said excitedly. “And tune into its wavelength.”

Oh,
perleaze
, I thought.

But as it turned out I had to eat my words. My pebble was SO deep and philosophical, it was unbelievable!

Luckily stones aren’t all that interested in chatting, so Mr Allbright said I totally didn’t need to feel bad about ignoring them up until now.

Incidentally, the history club was a complete non-event. Flora and Ferdy were members for one thing. More annoyingly, Orlando didn’t turn up. I’d made up my mind to be v. unimpressed the next time I saw him. (I’d been practising for DAYS.)

Also Lola must have got it wrong, because time-travel simply didn’t come up. All that happened was that some guy from the Agency gave us a long lecture about team work (yawn yawn yawn). Then he handed round a humungous book list and said they’d be in touch.

I checked a couple of the books out of the library (Lola made me) but I was too fed up to read them. (Well, I never said I was a total goody-goody!)

I couldn’t face the Angel Handbook either, even though Mr Allbright insisted it was essential reading. I got as far as
Chapter 1: FINDING YOUR FEET IN HEAVEN
. Then I came over really dizzy and put it back on the shelf.

That was the day I found out we weren’t allowed to take even an occasional sicky. Angels never get sick, apparently. This is probably good news for humans. But it made me feel totally trapped. How was a girl supposed to get some rest?

Luckily, according to the timetable, Wednesday afternoon was our Private Study period. I couldn’t wait. Finally, some chill-out time with my best friend, Lola.

But when I knocked on her door, Lola was on her way out. “Sorry, Boo. I do singing on Wednesdays,” she said. (I have NO idea why she calls me Boo. Lola is always inventing weird nicknames for everyone.)

“Oh, poor you,” I said, assuming Lola had been roped in for some kind of holy hymn singing. Then I did a truly noble deed. “I’ll come with you, if you like,” I suggested. “You know, just this once.”

But Lola explained that Private Study meant you had to go off and do something by yourself. It sounded pointless to me. Why do something by yourself if you can do it with your mates?

I’d hate to give you the wrong idea, though. My new life might be confusing, but it had some excellent moments.

For instance, I’d been dreading the martial arts class. I’ve always been hopeless at PE. The first session was just a joke. Every time I staggered back on to my feet, another kid knocked me flat.

Just as I was in danger of becoming one big purple bruise, Mr Allbright told us we were going to work in pairs. I’d been praying I’d get Lola for my partner. So I was not amused when Mr Allbright paired me with Reuben, the kid who was dripping sea-water in assembly, if you remember.

“Why are we putting ourselves through this?” I grumbled. “I thought angels were supposed to be gentle and holy and stuff.”

Reuben gave a snort of laughter. “You’re kidding! If we let ourselves get soft, the Opposition would have us totally overrun.”

That chilling word again. I quickly told myself I hadn’t heard it.

“They used to teach us to fight with swords, way back,” Reuben explained cheerfully. “I’m talking thousands and thousands of years ago. But these days the Agency prefers us to learn angel martial arts.”

“And that’s another thing,” I growled. “I don’t understand how Time works anymore.”

“That’s because it doesn’t,” said Reuben with a grin. “Cosmic Time isn’t something that
works
. It’s something you
play
with. We play with Time in martial arts constantly.”

I pulled a face. “Uh-uh, that’s way too deep. Translate into bimbo-speak, please!”