Angel Creek (9 page)

When Jelly woke, Gino and Pik were still asleep on her floor, but she could hear someone moving around downstairs. She lifted her head slowly from her pillow and was relieved to find that her headache had disappeared along with the storm. Remnants of her dream hung around her like cloud vapour. She thought of Nonna waking up all alone in the hospital and then of her angel in the little shed. She needed to find a way to check on it that morning. She was hoping it hadn't been too frightened by the storm.

She slipped on clean shorts and a T-shirt, stepped over Gino and Pik and crept out of the bedroom. On the landing, where a cool breeze drifted from the open back door, she realised how stuffy and hot her bedroom had become and how, after only two nights, it already smelled like boys.

Jelly's mum was dressed and drinking coffee at the kitchen table. She looked up from the newspaper as Jelly came down the stairs. ‘How are you feeling, love?'

‘Better.'

‘That's good.' She held out an arm and Jelly folded herself into her mother's side. She didn't bother reading the paper over her shoulder; there was never any good news. And even the comics weren't funny. ‘I'm going to see Nonna.' Her mum stroked Jelly's cheek with the back of her hand. ‘Do you want to come with me?'

Jelly couldn't think of anything she'd like more than to see Nonna with her own eyes, to spend the morning with her mum. But she was worried about the angel. Should she stay or should she go?

Part of her wanted to forget the angel was there, to pretend they had never found it; the responsibility had almost become more than she could bear. But she knew she couldn't leave it alone in the shed, and she didn't want Gino to look after it. She didn't want to give him any more reason to think it was his. Her mind whirred.

Perhaps they should take it back to the creek? Jelly didn't know how long it would be before she could get Stef over to see it. And maybe it wasn't such a good idea to show other people anyway? The longer they kept it the more chance that someone else would find it. Those Northbridge High boys. Or adults! Adults would take it away and want to do experiments on it or put it in a museum or something. She
couldn't
let that happen.

Zia's voice at the top of the stairs startled her out of her thoughts. She was calling for Jelly's mum in a low, urgent voice. Her mother shot up from the table and Jelly followed.

‘It's Sophia,' Zia said, pulling at her hands. ‘Come and see.'

They crept into the study where Sophia was sleeping and peered into her cot. Sophia's eyes were shut but her mouth was open and she was breathing quickly. Even in the half-light Jelly could see what Zia was worried about. Mum gasped. All over Sophia's skin, an angry rash had broken out. In places, it had blistered, and in the folds it was red and raw. Her dark hair was matted against her temples and sweat dribbled into the creases of her neck.

Jelly's mum put a hand on Sophia's forehead. ‘She's burning up,' she said, her voice straining to remain calm. ‘I think we should take her to the Children's. Jel, you'll have to stay here to help Dad with the boys.'

‘But,' Jelly said, ‘what about Nonna?'

Her mum frowned and Jelly flopped down onto the landing, filled with disappointment. She hadn't expected the decision to be made for her this way.

Within minutes they were gone. Jelly's dad helped them to the car then clumped back up the stairs in his boxer shorts. He sighed and roughed up Jelly's hair on the way back to bed. ‘Strange days,' he said. ‘Strange days.'

Gino appeared in the doorway of the bedroom. ‘Where did Mum go?' he yawned.

‘Sophia's sick,' Jelly said. ‘They've taken her to hospital.'

‘What's wrong with her? What happened?' The words tumbled out barely in the right order.

‘How should I know?' She marched downstairs. ‘I'm going to take the angel some food before the others get up. You can come or not.'

‘Wait.' Gino ducked back into her room to get his shoes.

‘Don't wake Pik,' Jelly warned.

The rain had turned the creek bank to mud and they skidded and slipped down to the bike path. The plastic bag Jelly had filled with grapes and apricots bumped against her thigh. The creek was high and the water roared furiously, dragging everything in its way. The family of ducks that lived near the tunnel were paddling hard not to be swept downstream, and the narrow beach where they had sat the day before had disappeared, swallowed by the storm.

Before they turned down the side of the school, she checked for Jack or Budgie, but there was no one about. As they drew close to the shed, Jelly heard a soft banging and scraping against the tin wall. They paused and Gino looked at Jelly.

‘I think we should take it back to the creek,' she said.

‘No way.'

‘It doesn't belong to you, Gino.'

‘Finders keepers. Remember?'

‘That's stupid. I don't mean that. It doesn't belong to me either. What if it has a mother or something that's looking for it?'

‘Angels don't have mothers.'

‘How do you know? It's only a baby, Gino.'

‘I can look after it.'

‘How?'

‘Same as you. I can look after it as good as you.'

‘Look after it then!' Jelly thrust the plastic bag into Gino's hands. ‘And if it dies it's
your
fault.'

She marched across the playground. At the fence, she turned to see Gino open the shed door and slide in. There was a wild flapping. She heard Gino shouting, then a crash. Jelly darted over. She opened the door just a crack, but the angel spotted her. It swept over and caught her hair in its hands, dragging her into the shed.

‘Don't let it out!' Gino leapt up from where he was cowering on the floor and pulled the shed door behind her. The angel squatted on Jelly's shoulders, its mouth and fingers in her hair, toes digging into her shoulders. Jelly tried to shake it off, but the angel's wings rose and flapped wildly each time she moved. With every powerful swoop Jelly was nearly lifted off the ground. Then the angel squealed.

Jelly covered her ears and stumbled around the room. ‘Let me go,' she begged the angel. ‘Please let me go.' She tried to bat it from her head but it held on tightly.

Eventually the angel stopped its infernal shrieking. It clambered down her back and crawled in between her legs, wrapping its fingers around her ankles and glowering at Gino. Jelly lifted it to her chest. Both their hearts were pounding.

‘What did you do to it?'

‘I didn't do anything,' said Gino, still flattened against the door. There was a long pink scratch down his cheek and he was breathing fast.

Jelly carried the angel to the blanket and sat down. In the corner of the shed she noticed a small pile of shredded bandages. ‘Well, at least its wing seems better.'

She couldn't help smiling as she handed a bunch of grapes to the angel. She had no idea why it had become so attached to her and not Gino. Right from when they had found it in the tunnel it had never let Gino or Pik get close. Perhaps it saw her as a mother figure? But that wouldn't explain why it shied away from the boys.

‘We've got to be careful it doesn't get away,' Gino said, his eyes fixed on the angel fossicking around in the fruit bag. ‘Now that it can fly again.'

‘It's better, Gino. We should let it go. That's what we said.'

The angel spat grape skins and stalks into Jelly's lap and shoved a ripe apricot into its wet mouth. Jelly brushed the rubbish off her shorts.

‘I told you, I'm keeping it. It only wants you 'cause it sees you. Yesterday it was fine with me after you left.'

‘Even if that was true, what are you going to do with it? You can't keep it forever, Gino.'

‘Why not?'

‘Because it's…it's…it's not a pet.'

Gino flared up. ‘Stop telling me what to do all the time. I'm sick of it. You're always bossing me around. It's not like you're even my friend—you're just my stupid cousin. You say my dad bosses me around but you're worse.'

Jelly stood up and shoved the angel into Gino's arms. ‘Fine. Take it then!'

Jelly stormed out of the shed, pulling the door firmly behind her. She could hear the angel shrieking but she ran across the courtyard without stopping. Sliding under the fence she sheared off one of the new scabs on her knee and gasped. As she ran down the street, she let herself cry, but only for her knee.

Jelly turned away from the prying windows of an early morning tram as it clattered past. When she reached the bike path she slowed. Tears were running down her face and blood down her shin. She wiped her nose on the back of her hand. She didn't care what Gino said. She hated him. And his stupid family. Especially Zio Mario. She wished they'd go home and let her have her house back. She wished Nonna hadn't got sick and messed up Christmas and that they could just start all over again. She wished that Gino would let the angel go.

13

that boy again

Jelly climbed the back fence, her face still wet with tears. She swung herself up into the wide branches of the apricot tree and found the little hollow that was her perfect armchair. It was the only place she could bear to be. She rubbed at the smear of dried blood down her shin, and told herself she was better off without the angel. She didn't care what happened to it anymore. It was no longer her responsibility. If it died it would be Gino's fault. Not hers.

Someone at the creek caught her eye. It was that boy, walking along by the rushing water. Jelly watched him trail a long stick in the mud, swirling lines and jabbing holes. He stopped to lift up rubbish with his stick, found an old frisbee caught in the reeds, inspected it, and tucked it under his arm. Jelly liked watching him from up there. He walked slow and smooth, like someone with all the time in the world. Like someone who might have a tune in their head or a thought in their mind. Not like most people who followed the creek—joggers and cyclists and people with somewhere to go, rushing along, like the creek was only a path to follow, not a world to discover.

The boy suddenly looked up, shading his eyes with his hand. He was staring straight at her and for a moment she panicked that he might see her watching him, but his arm fell and he kept walking. There was something about looking at that boy that turned Jelly's stomach inside out. Where only moments before it was shrivelled like a dark black prune, it now fluttered with butterflies.

The good feeling disappeared when she saw Maureen at the back door. What was she doing here again? Didn't she have her own home? Little black thoughts came up easily and Jelly didn't try to stop them. They shot out of her like bullets.

‘Jelly,' Maureen called. ‘Gino, Pik.'

Jelly swung down from the tree.

‘Thank goodness,' Maureen said. ‘You gave me a fright. Your mum asked me to come over and keep an eye on you kids while she's gone. Where are Gino and Pik?'

‘Gino's, er, gone for a walk.' Jelly limped up the back steps. ‘Gone to pick some more flowers for Nonna, I think.'

‘With Pik? He didn't take Pik down to the creek, did he?'

‘No, Maureen,' Jelly said rudely. ‘Pik's still in bed.'

Maureen put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Pik is
not
in bed, Jelly.'

Jelly heard the words but it took a minute to understand what they meant. The realisation flooded through her, turning her blood cold. Jelly knew instantly what had happened.

Pik had woken and decided to follow them.

He knew where they were heading.

Down to the creek.

Jelly knew that she would be blamed. The oldest. The girl. It was always the way. So she did the only thing she could think of to save herself. She lied.

‘Oh, he must have gone with Gino. They left after me. We were going to the playground. But then I, um, fell over so I came back to get a bandaid.' She pointed to her crusty knee. ‘They're probably still waiting for me. I'll go and get them.'