Angel (4 page)

Shane was exhausted. For three nights he had been waiting for David but there had been no sign of him. Shane hadn't heard him, felt his warmth, seen a faint glow or even sensed his presence. Hours of peering out of his bedroom window into the night sky had been fruitless. He hadn't even had a dream about David. The first night Shane had accepted his absence, explained it away. David just couldn't make it. Angels must be busy. He was obviously caught up in something at angel school — a project, homework, something.

By the second night, he began to worry. Perhaps something
had
happened to David. Perhaps he'd had an accident, if angels could have accidents.

After the third night of waiting, Shane's exhaustion had weakened his belief and he was beginning to think and believe that this angel was just a wonderful dream. So wonderful, so special that he'd wanted to hang onto it just as he'd wanted to hang onto the real David. He'd wanted to play those games again with his brother. The ones he remembered, like the bike races on the Grand Prix track around the pot plants and through the trees by the back fence. The giggling games as they tumbled down the mound of freshly delivered sand when the new room was being built. The laughing on the swing when they twisted the rope and spun themselves dizzy. He could still play those games, but without David they were boring.

Shane did a lot of thinking and not much talking during those days of waiting. His parents noticed the change, and try as they might to lift his spirits, they didn't have much luck. Even excited talk of ski jumps and snowball fights didn't have him leaping about. Another trip to Dr Pratt didn't help either. Shane had nothing to tell her. Not even a dream he knew to be a dream. No nightmares about monsters dragging David into the darkness or watching him fall into bottomless pits. Nothing.

Surprisingly enough, Dr Pratt thought this was a good sign. ‘I believe he's finally letting go,' she said. ‘He realises now I think that David isn't coming back, no matter how much he dreams and wishes.'

But Shane couldn't let go. The image of the angel David doing aerial acrobatics in his room fluttered into his mind with monotonous regularity. Maybe he
was
going crazy. That was
the way it happened, wasn't it? The mind played tricks on you. It let you see what you wanted to see and not what really was. These thoughts were spinning through Shane's tired mind like a tornado of torment. He didn't want to go crazy. He was going to have to block David out, not think of him too much. Keep him out of his head, out of his mind; keep him away. At least until he could tell the difference between a dream and reality. He wouldn't wander into David's room any more when he felt like it. He'd play basketball and he'd think more about the holiday, the snow. That's what he'd do.

On the fourth night, Shane crawled into bed exhausted. He didn't look out of his window. He turned his back on it. He pushed pictures into his mind of him doing things with his parents on holiday. It wasn't easy to block David out, but he buried himself in his pillow and
thought hard. He was so tired he was asleep within minutes, and slept soundly, deeply. So deeply, that when David finally came, he couldn't wake him.

Shane had never slept in as late as he did the morning the Hamiltons were preparing to leave on their holiday. He'd been so weary he'd fallen asleep at eight the night before and when he woke the next morning it was ten-thirty. He lay in bed listening to his parents organising themselves.

‘Rob, have you got our blue coats in?'

‘Yes, they're in.'

‘What about the gloves, the striped ones: have you put them in? We'll need a couple of pairs in case some of them get wet.'

‘They're in, Jenny. They're with the coats.'

They sounded excited and Shane should've been too, but he wasn't. He didn't feel like getting out of bed and packing things in cases. He didn't feel like searching for socks, coats and jumpers. He wanted to stay in bed for a while, maybe wander around the house in his pyjamas and get dressed just before lunch. Then amble out and throw a few baskets for an hour or so. Watching a video would be great too in the late afternoon, early evening. That's how he felt like spending the day, the sort of mood he was in. He wasn't in holiday packing mood. It was all too hectic, too busy, too much fuss, even to go to the snow.

There was the car journey, too. It would take at least a day to get there. There'd be the usual map-reading problems and the arguments when the wrong directions were given. There'd be the games, the singing, the joke telling. It would be
okay for the first part of the journey but then it'd all wane, everyone would lose interest and boredom would set in. Eventually, when they reached their destination there would be the usual horrific discovery that something had been left behind. Usually something important. Something that would be difficult to do without. Something that someone had to accept blame for forgetting. Shane could hear it all.

‘Oh no, Rob.
You
forgot the …'

‘I didn't forget it, Jenny.
You
did! You were supposed to pack it. Remember?'

And so on it would go without resolution for most of the holiday. These negative thoughts were a reflection of Shane's mood. He lacked energy and drive and so when he heard the front doorbell ring he didn't take much notice until he heard his father answer it.

‘Hi, Sue! Come on in.'

Aunt Sue. Shane had forgotten she was coming. Aunt Sue was always full of energy, hype and drama. She liked acting; she'd been in plays, a lot of plays. Shane had seen most of them. She'd been a ghost, a detective, a mad murderer and even a vampire. She was very good. Well, at least Shane thought she was. He'd liked all her performances. He liked Aunt Sue. She was great fun to have around. Every sentence she spoke was like a mini performance. Her red hair was a frenzy of knotted curls and suited her personality perfectly. She jingled everywhere she went with silver tassels and chimes that dangled from her hair, waist, ears and wrists. She did crazy, unexpected things — like the time she arrived at David's tenth birthday party dressed as a gorilla. She'd been in a pantomime called
King Kong
and hadn't had time to change. That's what she told everybody, anyway.

Aunt Sue always made Shane laugh and his laughter encouraged more outrageous, animated performances. Today though, Shane didn't think he could face her. He heard her laugh and wanted to hide away in a corner somewhere. As he crept from his bed into the shower, he could still hear her babbling away to his father.

‘Oh, Robbie, what a marvellous idea. All the little Hamiltons trotting off on a Hamilton family holiday. How splendid! Hah, hah! I can see you all now, hurtling down the steepest slopes at breathtaking speed, clinging desperately to your little toboggan. Totally in control, of course, and watched in awe by crowds of amazed onlookers. WHEEEEEEEEEEEE!'

Shane shook his head. It sounded like another fine performance by Aunt Sue.

‘Now where's my favourite nephew?' she said, jingling about.

‘Still in bed,' said Rob. ‘He doesn't need to get up yet. He's very tired.'

Sue lowered her voice, something she very rarely did. ‘Any more visits from angels?' she asked in a croaky whisper.

Jenny shook her head. ‘He hasn't mentioned any,' she whispered back. ‘But he hasn't been himself the last few days, has he Rob?'

‘No, but this holiday will help.' Rob and Jenny looked at each other. ‘We hope.'

Sue waved a dismissive hand at them. ‘Oh, of course it will,' she announced gruffly. ‘Without a doubt. Why the little gremlin will come back as feisty as ever.'

Sue went back to whispering. ‘It sounded like a pretty powerful dream to me. One that is going to be hard to forget. Amazing things, dreams.' Sue had always been interested in dreams along with psychic powers, clairvoyants and reincarnation. ‘I've got a friend who's a
clairvoyant. She believes that dreams can help predict your future.' She frowned thoughtfully. ‘I'm not sure how an angel dream fits into all that, though. I'll have to ask her.'

She was keen to have a chat with Shane and find out exactly what he'd seen. It sounded exciting. How long did it go on for? How did he feel? What made him believe it was all real? She wished she'd been there. She wished she'd seen David flying about. She was the one person Shane could easily have convinced. Her mind was open — there was little doubt that she would believe David was an angel or at least a spirit paying a visit.

She couldn't wait to get Shane on his own and extract the story from him. She could have a major phenomenon on her hands. No one in her circle of friends, actors, psychics or clairvoyants had ever mentioned having an angel as a nephew. This could be a major coup.
She jangled about the house following Jenny, who was giving instructions on plant care, door locking and rubbish removal. Sue wasn't listening. She was keeping an eye out for Shane. His unexpected appearance from the bathroom with wet, tousled hair brought a loud, over-enthusiastic response from her.

‘HEY! Shaney boy! My main man. Come here, you little gremlin.' She immediately launched into acting mode. Turning herself sideways and pushing her chin into her shoulder, she looked alluringly at Shane. ‘Come here and wrap your arms around me.' She tossed her head back dramatically. ‘Hold me tight and never let me go.'

Shane couldn't help but smile. ‘Hi, Aunt Sue.'

She squeezed him hard and spun him round. ‘I know you love me, you fool … and yes, I'll marry you!'

Shane looked up at Aunt Sue's playful face. She was always loud, happy and exciting. Shane
had never known her to be any other way, except once: the day David died.

Aunt Sue clutched Shane's shoulders. ‘Hey, guess what?'

His curiosity was mildly aroused.

‘Well you know how I'm staying here while you're away?'

‘Yeah.'

‘I'm sleeping in your bed.'

‘Yep, you've got to look after Webster. He doesn't like sleeping on his own.'

‘Oh I'll look after Webster,' she said. ‘But I thought I'd better warn you.'

‘Warn me?' Shane frowned. ‘Warn me about what?'

Aunt Sue scrunched up her face and pushed it close to Shane's. ‘I can be very smelly, you know,' she hissed. ‘I'm the princess of pong!'

Shane gave a stifled snigger. That was another thing he liked about Aunt Sue, she was smutty.

‘Sue, please!' Jenny moaned.

Aunt Sue giggled like a naughty schoolgirl as Rob, her brother, appeared on the scene.

‘I'm going to have to dash down to the shops to get some things. I won't be long,' he said.

‘Well I need some things too,' said Jenny, stepping into view from behind Sue's hair. ‘Why don't we all go?'

‘I don't want to go, Mum,' said Shane, screwing up his face. He hated shopping at the best of times and shopping for a holiday was the worst kind.

Sue saw a golden opportunity to get him on his own. ‘I'll stay here with Shane,' she chimed in brightly. ‘He can tell me all his plans on how he intends to tackle the ski slopes. I might even have some tips for him. I played a ski instructor once on the stage.' Sue jingled as she bobbed and weaved her way down a pretend ski slope.

So Shane was left to his aunt Sue's clumsy,
probing questions. She sat close to him as he began to eat his breakfast.

‘Have you been sleeping well lately, Shane?'

Shane had a mouthful of cereal. Some of it was leaking from the sides of his mouth. He shook his head and grunted, ‘No.'

She repeated the answer just to be certain she'd understood the reply. ‘No?'

‘No,' he said more clearly.

‘More dreams, I suppose,' said Sue.

‘Yep,' he nodded.

‘You know you can always tell me about them if you want to. It always helps to talk about things like that, I find.'

Shane pushed his half empty cereal bowl away and brushed his hand across his mouth. ‘Thanks, Aunt Sue, but it's okay.'

She wasn't giving up. ‘Dreams are amazing things. I was telling your mum and dad that I've got this friend who believes that dreams can tell
you all sorts of things if you know how to interpret them. She says they're like messages, supernatural messages.'

Shane looked at his aunt's anxious face. He was feeling uncomfortable and pressured. He knew she wanted him to talk about the angel dream but he didn't want to bring it back into focus in his mind. He was trying to bury it somewhere in a dark corner, dismiss it as nothing special.

Shane remained silent.

Sue put her hand gently on his shoulder. ‘You know,' she said softly, ‘I'm sure that if someone sees an angel it means something very special.'

There was an uneasy stillness.

Shane looked down at the table and leant back in his chair. ‘You know all about it then?'

Sue coughed, spluttered and stumbled into a laugh. ‘Well … yes, I heard a little bit about it, not much though. Your dad just mentioned the
angel thing, that's all. Why don't you fill me in on the details?'

Shane gave in. He'd tell her, then she'd leave him to his own thoughts. ‘I saw … David. He said he was an angel,' he began shyly.

Sue was finding it hard to hide her enthusiasm. She was on the edge of her seat, eyes sparkling. ‘Oh how wonderful! How absolutely wonderful!' She hadn't meant to clasp her hands under her chin as if she was about to say a prayer. ‘Was he normal size … or … or fairy size or what?' she stuttered.

‘He was just as we knew him, except he glowed a lot.'

‘He glowed!' cried Sue, slapping her cheeks. ‘What else did he do? Did he have a halo? Wings? Did he sing? Did he sing to you?'

Shane threw his aunt a puzzled glance. ‘Sing?'

‘I've heard angels sing very nicely,' said Sue, explaining her question.

‘No, he didn't sing,' said Shane. ‘He didn't have a halo or wings but he could fly.'

Sue was excited. She couldn't keep still. She was jingling like a Christmas tree in an earthquake. ‘He woke you up didn't he, Shane? He was real, wasn't he? This wasn't just another one of those dreams. He talked to you.'

Shane suddenly thought of his parents. He thought of them sitting in Dr Pratt's office. How nervous they'd been. His father with half a beard and his mother fidgeting non-stop all the way there and all the way back. He thought of his dad sitting on his bed. He'd told Shane to let go.

Shane looked into his aunt's eyes. She was jittery with excited expectation and looked as though she wanted to speak for Shane, to put words in his mouth, to hear the answers she wanted to hear. Her head nodded slightly from time to time, trying to prompt a positive response.

‘It was … a great dream, Aunt Sue, but that's all it was: just a great dream. It was fun to believe it was real. It was great having David around again. But it was only a dream.' Shane swallowed the lump in his throat but a bigger one came.

Sue watched his breathing deepen as he bowed his head. She reached out to him and, cupping his face gently in her hands, pushed away the tear that rolled from the corner of his eye.