Angel (3 page)

Dr Pratt was a tall woman with a wonderful smile. Her gold-rimmed glasses were a striking contrast to her long black hair. Shane liked Dr Pratt. He'd been visiting her for almost a year now. She talked to him about things, lots of things, like basketball, nightmares and David, especially David.

When the Hamiltons stumbled into her office, the normally composed Dr Pratt found it difficult to hide her surprise at the sight that greeted her. Mr Hamilton with half a beard, Mrs Hamilton wearing a white blouse spattered
with coffee and Shane wrapped untidily in his dressing gown with his slippers on the wrong feet, smiling sheepishly up at her.

Dr Pratt stood silent, her warm smile faded to a bemused grin.

‘So,' she said brightly, snapping out of her confusion, ‘what's been happening in the Hamilton household?'

Her question brought an immediate and spirited response. The Hamiltons all started talking at once.

‘It's Shane! He had this dream and now he thinks his brother's an angel …'

‘It wasn't a dream! I tell you he really …'

‘I was shaving and I went in to tell Shane …'

Dr Pratt waved her arms about vigorously. ‘Hold it! Hold it! Everyone stop! Calm down please. I can't understand any of you.'

Pushing chairs towards her desk, Dr Pratt invited the Hamiltons to sit down. Obviously
Shane had had another dream about David.

Jenny sat quiet and tense as Rob explained the morning's events as calmly as he could. Shane watched carefully for Dr Pratt's reaction. The concerned frowns that crossed her brow from time to time were signs that she felt the situation was serious.

When Rob had finished she turned her attention to Shane, occasionally glancing back at his father's half beard. Her voice was soft and sympathetic. ‘Now then, Shane, let's talk about what happened last night.' Dr Pratt took a pen in her hand and began rolling it in her fingers. ‘Just take your time. There's no need to rush or panic.'

Shane squirmed uneasily in his chair. He could back out now if he wanted to. He could change his story, say it was just a dream, that he'd been confused and not fully awake. But he'd made a promise to David and he had to
keep it. If he told Dr Pratt it was just a dream, then his parents would never believe him. He had to be strong, for David. He looked Dr Pratt right in the eye. ‘I saw David last night,' he said, kicking his dangling legs.

‘You mean you had a dream about David,' smiled Dr Pratt.

‘No, it wasn't a dream.'

‘If it wasn't a dream then what was it?'

‘It was David. He's an angel now, a real angel, not with wings and haloes and things. That's not how they are.'

Dr Pratt made notes as she listened. ‘How do you know he was real?'

Shane was feeling nervous but by taking deep breaths and thinking of David floating around his room, he continued his story. The more he talked the more excited he became. He talked louder and faster. The faster he talked the faster Dr Pratt wrote.

‘He flew, he glowed, he isn't sick any more, he looks fantastic! I can't wait for him to come again!'

Dr Pratt raised her eyebrows, lowered her head and peered at Shane over the sparkling rims of her glasses. ‘When do you think he'll be back?'

‘Tonight.'

‘What do you think he'll do with you this time?'

‘I'm not sure,' said Shane thoughtfully. ‘I don't know if angels can play basketball. He'd be fantastic, I reckon. Imagine the slam dunks he could do!'

Shane's imagination was spinning with ideas about what he and David could do together. ‘I could take him to school. He could read the teacher's mind and tell me all the answers to hard questions and I'd be one of the smart kids. Wicked!'

Shane looked at the ceiling dreamily. ‘He might even be able to help me fix those Baker boys; they're always bullying me. He could do some of his tricks and tease them like they're always teasing me.' He looked back at Dr Pratt. ‘I reckon it's going to be great having an angel as a brother, don't you?'

Dr Pratt nodded. ‘I suppose it would be,' she said softly, scribbling something else down.

In the few seconds of silence that followed, Shane felt the uneasiness of the adults around him. The sound of Dr Pratt's pen scratching away on the paper was only interrupted by the clicking coming from Jenny as she nibbled her fingernails.

Dr Pratt put her pen down. ‘Shane, why don't you go out and ask Mrs Birch for a game on the computer?'

Mrs Birch was her secretary. She was a large round-faced woman who laughed a lot and was
good at computer games. Shane played with her whenever Dr Pratt wanted to talk to his parents. He hardly ever beat her, though. She must have practised when Dr Pratt wasn't very busy. Maybe they played together.

So Shane and Mrs Birch played basketball while Dr Pratt spoke to his parents.

Shane squealed with delight as he scored the first points of the game from outside the three point line. Mrs Birch squeezed her tongue determinedly from the side of her mouth as she moved into attack.

Shane's mother and father were holding hands as they sat and talked with Dr Pratt. Tightly.

‘What can we do to help him?' asked Rob, pulling at what was left of his beard.

Dr Pratt brushed her hand under her chin thoughtfully. ‘Well,' she sighed. ‘I think you need to take a holiday, Mr Hamilton. Take Shane away
from home for a while. Take him away from his room where this dream took place. I think it will help him and, no doubt, help you as well.'

Jenny took her fist from her mouth. ‘They seem to be getting stronger, these dreams. I thought they'd fade in time.'

Dr Pratt leant back in her chair. ‘You're right. This was a strong dream and it's very unusual for Shane not to realise that it
was
one.'

Shane's voice suddenly echoed through Jenny's mind. ‘It wasn't a dream! Honest!' A tiny spark of thought twinkled in the far corners of her mind. How wonderful it would be if it were true — if her David was an angel.

She played with the idea all the way home. It made her feel warm, relaxed and even amused. She was beginning to understand why Shane wanted so much to hang onto this dream. It took away all the other feelings: the sadness, and the loss, particularly.

So she quite enjoyed the journey and when they arrived home it was almost time for lunch. Shane didn't have to get ready for school because it was decided (much to his delight) that a day off was in order.

Rob had already let his office know he wouldn't be in and it was Jenny's day off anyway, so the Hamilton family were spending the day together.

‘Let's plan our holiday,' said Rob, after he'd finished his shave.

‘What holiday?' frowned Shane.

‘Dr Pratt thought we all needed a holiday, so we're taking one.'

‘How long are we going for?' asked Shane, hoping for a year or two away from school.

‘A couple of weeks,' smiled Jenny.

‘Hang on,' said Shane suddenly. ‘What about Webster? Who's going to look after
him?
'

‘We thought we'd get Aunt Sue to come
over and look after things while we're gone,' said Rob.

‘Great, but she'll have to sleep in my room because Webster doesn't like being left alone in an empty room in the dark. He hated being in David's room on his own.'

Rob smiled confidently. ‘I'm sure she'd love to sleep in your room with Webster,' he said.

Shane curled his hand into the biscuit jar and pulled out four chocolate biscuits. He put three in his dressing gown pockets and one in his mouth. ‘Where are we going?' he asked in a voice muffled by chewing.

Rob was thumbing through his giant road atlas, the one Shane and David had given him one Father's Day. ‘I think the snowfields would be fun. What about you?'

Shane and David had always wanted to go to the snow. It looked like great fun and skiing looked so easy they knew they'd be able to do
it. They'd planned to go once before, but didn't get there. David got sick.

Shane immediately imagined himself flying down the slopes. ‘Yeah!' he cried. ‘Let's give it a go!' He turned to his mother, waiting for her to cast the final vote.

She looked at Shane and could almost hear him pleading with her to agree. The look on his face said it all. She smiled. ‘Okay,' she nodded, ‘the snow it is.'

‘Yes!' hissed Shane, jumping into the air. ‘I can't wait to tell David! He'll flip!'

Rob and Jenny looked at each other and immediately started making plans.

It was late evening, Shane was sitting on his basketball on the front lawn and watching the sky. He was fidgeting impatiently with his hair.

It had taken a long time for the sun to set. Shane had watched it moving slowly through a scratchy spattering of clouds. It coloured them orange, red, pink as it slid behind them then beneath them. It was a fabulous show, but Shane wasn't interested. He only wanted it to go away. He wanted the sky to be black, he wanted darkness, night-time, bedtime. He wanted to see David again. He couldn't wait! He screwed
his cap around so that the peak touched his back and watched the streetlights flicker on. The street was grey and the night air cool: he wouldn't have long to wait now. He stood up, scooped his ball into his hands and, thumping it hard onto the concrete path, bounced inside.

The sound of the front door brought an instant response from his mother. Her voice echoed from the dining room. ‘Come on, Shane. Your tea's ready.'

‘What is it?' asked Shane, rolling his basketball across the lounge room floor. There was a gap between the wall and one of the lounge chairs that was just large enough for the ball to fit in. It was a challenge to Shane's skill. He tried to roll it into the gap without hitting anything. His effort on this particular occasion was a poor one. He tipped his head, willing the ball to change direction, but it didn't and it thumped into the wall.

His father was setting the table. ‘Must you do that inside?' he said, frowning.

Shane didn't answer. ‘What's for tea?' he asked, dumping himself at the table.

‘Chicken.'

‘What sort of chicken?'

Shane's father pointed to his head. ‘Hat off, mate. Roast chicken.'

Shane took off his cap and spun it like a frisbee towards the empty chair in the corner — David's chair. He picked up his knife and fork. ‘Is it ready yet? I'm starving!'

Shane's father padded off towards the kitchen and reappeared a moment later with the dinner. Shane scoffed it down in almost record time, much to the dismay of his parents.

‘Slow down! Slow down!' they kept telling him. ‘You're eating as if you haven't been fed for a month.'

He gobbled up his apple pie and ice-cream in
the same way. When he'd finished he looked at his mum and dad and, burping quietly, stood to leave.

‘Where are you going, Shane?' asked his mother calmly.

‘I'm going to bed.'

Shane's father looked at him curiously and said, ‘But it's not time for you to go to bed yet. You can stay up for another hour or more. You know that.'

‘But I want to go to bed.'

‘Why? Aren't you well?' his mother frowned.

‘No, I'm fine.'

Shane's father twisted on his seat to face Shane. ‘Then why do you want to go to bed?'

Shane paused and looked at them — first his father, then his mother. ‘I want to see David. He'll be back tonight and I want to tell him we're going skiing.'

His mother let out a soft, sorrowful sigh.

His father stayed calm. ‘You mean you might have another dream about David.'

‘No, you know what I mean, Dad. I'll be able to convince you tomorrow. David'll probably have an idea about how to help me show you that he really is an angel. Angels must have lots of tricks up their sleeves, don't you think?'

His father wasn't quite sure what to say. So he just nodded. ‘Hmm.'

Shane pushed his chair in. ‘Can I leave the table please?'

His father sighed. ‘Yes, of course.'

‘I can't wait to tell David we're going to the snow. He'll go ape!'

Shane wandered off humming, leaving his worried parents to their tea. But they weren't hungry any more.

‘What are we going to do if he doesn't snap out of this?' moaned Jenny. ‘What if he starts telling other people? What'll they think?'

Rob reached over and took her firmly by the hand. ‘Don't worry, everything'll be fine. The holiday will help, okay? He just needs to get out of the house for a while. There's too much here to remind him of David. He's just like us, that's all. He wants David to be here. He wants him to come back. You can understand that.'

Jenny nodded. ‘Of course I can.'

Shane was in his room flipping through magazines when Jenny went up to check on him a few minutes later. She sat on his bed. ‘What are you looking for, Shane?'

‘Snow pictures. I want to show David what we'll be doing.' He held up some pictures he'd already found. He had a giant snowman, a ski jump champion flying through the air and a photograph of Mount Everest. He grinned smugly. ‘David'll be jealous, won't he Mum?'

‘Yes I suppose he would be,' she said quietly. ‘But he's not here any more, Shane. He's gone;
he'll never know.' She waited anxiously for response. She wanted him to turn and say, ‘Yeah, you're right, Mum. I know. I just like to dream.' But he didn't.

‘It's okay, Mum. I'll tell him tonight. He'll know all right. Boy will he flip!'

Jenny leant over and wrapped her arms around him. ‘Don't worry. Everything will be okay. The holiday will help you see things more clearly.'

Shane patted her back. ‘Oh I'm not worried. I'm okay. I know you think I'm crazy, but one day you'll know I'm telling you the truth.' He gently released himself from his mother's embrace and looked her straight in the eye. ‘It is true, Mum. It wasn't a dream.'

Jenny kissed his forehead. ‘All right, we won't talk about it any more just now. Relax and try to get some sleep. I'll check you later.'

Shane went back to flipping through his
magazines and Jenny went back to worrying about his sanity. He collected quite a few pictures and arranged them in a display all over his bedroom floor. It wouldn't matter where David landed when he arrived he would have to see at least one of them. Then he would notice others and no doubt ask him why they were there. Then he could tell David, casually, calmly, matter-of-factly, ‘Oh those things! Just some pictures we collected. We thought they'd help us prepare for our holiday in the snow. You know, the one we're going on next week.' Then David would flip. He'd go off the deep end.

Shane could hear him squealing, ‘Holiday in the snow! What holiday in the snow?'

Shane grinned. He was going to love this. It would be just like the old times. Each of them battling for the glory of finding the best tease. This time he would be in control. He would know something David didn't know. He would
be doing something David wouldn't be doing. He would be the tease master — something David had always been better at than him. He wouldn't tease for long though because David might tease him back with angel tricks, or fly off in a flap and not come back. He didn't want to make him angry; just envious.

Shane thought about that and lots of other things while he waited. He'd opened his curtains as wide as they could go so that he could see deep into the night sky and watch for David's arrival. He imagined him fading into view in front of his eyes just as he had faded out of view the night before. Occasionally, he heard his mother or father tiptoe past his door and peek in at him. When he heard them coming, he pretended he was asleep. He wanted them in bed so they didn't interrupt his meeting with David. He couldn't see how he could chat to David if they were around. Especially if they
didn't believe David was real. They'd whip him out of bed and take him down to see Dr Pratt in the dead of night. He didn't want that to happen and he was sure Dr Pratt wouldn't be too pleased either.

By eleven-thirty his parents were asleep and Shane was left waiting on his own. The house was quiet. Every now and then a creak or the echoing bark of a dog somewhere broke the silence. Shane found that he was listening to himself breathe, snuffle or shuffle about. When he felt as though he was going to doze off he climbed out of bed and stood by the window. He told himself that if he didn't go to sleep, when David came he'd know for sure he was for real. Then he'd tell his parents that he'd never gone to sleep, so how could it be a dream?

Shane stood gazing out of his window wondering where David was. Which part of the
sky was he in? Which star was he behind? Which black hole would he come out of? He wondered if David was scared all the way out there. It looked dark, lonely and empty. He stopped looking at the sky; it had begun to frighten him.

As Shane grew tired, he became more impatient. He moved around his room like a caged lion. He wanted David to hurry up. He found himself glancing up at his clock every few seconds. Time passed slowly. He started whining to himself, scuffing his feet, slapping his bed. Come on! Where was he? He became very disheartened and by 2:00 am he'd fallen asleep under his window surrounded by his snow pictures shining silver in the moonlight.

Shane woke the next morning on his floor with his nose pressed hard against Mount Everest. He looked at his clock: 6:05. He stared through his window up into the sky. It was
turning blue and the stars were losing their sparkle. Desperately, he looked around for a sign that David had been. He saw nothing but snow pictures.

Dejected and confused, Shane sat hunched against the wall under his window. He wondered why David hadn't come when he had said he would. Running his fingers through his hair, he tried to think back to what else David had said. Some other clue that might explain why he hadn't returned. He needed help convincing his parents that David really was an angel.

Then the doubt hit him. ‘It can't have been a dream,' he whispered to himself. ‘It can't have been. He won't let me down, not David. He'll be back, he'll be back tonight.'