Halo (7 page)

“And in the meantime?”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to experience being a teenager?” He gave me an encouraging smile, and as always, my unease dissolved.

I peered into the bowl with the black strips floating in gritty liquid.

“Is this bark part of the recipe?”

“Those are porcini mushrooms—they need soaking before you can use them.”

“Mmm . . . they look delicious,” I lied.

“They’re considered a delicacy. Don’t worry, you’ll love them.”

I passed Gabriel his mug of tea and continued to entertain myself by watching him. I gasped when the sharp paring knife he was using slipped from his grasp, slicing open the top of his index finger. The sight of blood shocked me—a frightening reminder of how vulnerable our bodies were. Warm, crimson blood was so human and seeing it spill from my brother’s hand seemed so unnatural. But Gabriel hadn’t even flinched. He just brought his bleeding finger to his mouth and when he withdrew it any trace of injury had disappeared. He washed his hands with the soap from the dispenser on the sink and went back to his methodical slicing.

I picked up a piece of celery that was destined for the salad and chewed absently on it. Celery, I decided, must be more about texture than taste as it didn’t really have much flavor, but it was certainly crunchy. Why anyone would eat it voluntarily was beyond me, apart from its nutritional value. Good nutrition meant a healthier body and a longer life. Humans were inordinately afraid of death, but I supposed we couldn’t expect anything else from them given their lack of knowledge about what lay beyond. They would find out in due course that there was nothing to fear.

Gabriel’s dinner turned out to be the usual success. Even Ivy, who took no real pleasure in food, was impressed.

“Another culinary triumph,” she said after the first forkfull.

“Amazing flavors,” I added. Food was just another wonder the earth had to offer. I couldn’t help marveling at how every food could have such a different texture and flavor—bitter, sour, salty, creamy, tangy, sweet, spicy—sometimes more than one at the same time. Some of them I liked and some made me want to wash my mouth out—but everything was a unique experience.

Gabriel modestly dismissed our praise, and talk turned once again to the events of the day.

“Well, that’s one day down. I think it went well, although I hadn’t expected to find so many musical students.”

“I think you’ll find a lot of them developed an interest in music once they saw you.” Ivy said with a smile.

“Well, at least it gives me something to work on,” Gabe replied. “If they can find beauty in music, they can find beauty in one another and the world too.”

“But aren’t you bored in class?” I asked Gabe. “I mean, you already have access to all human knowledge.”

“I expect he wasn’t really concentrating on the content,” Ivy said. “He would have been trying to pick up on other things.” Sometimes my sister had an infuriating way of speaking in riddles she just expected everyone else to understand.

“Well, I was bored,” I persisted. “Especially in chemistry. I’ve decided it really isn’t
my thing
.” Gabriel gave a low chuckle at my choice of words.

“Well, you’ll just have to find out what is
your thing
. Try things out and see what you like best.”

“I like literature,” I said. “We started watching the film version of
Romeo and Juliet
today.”

I didn’t tell them this, but the love story fascinated me. The way the lovers fell so deeply and irrevocably in love after their first meeting sparked a burning curiosity in me about what human love might feel like.

“How are you finding that?” Ivy asked.

“It’s very powerful, but the teacher got really mad when one of the boys said something about Lady Capulet.”

“What did he say?”

“He called her a MILF, which must be offensive because Miss Castle called him a thug and sent him out of the room. Gabe, what is a MILF?”

Ivy smothered her smile behind a napkin while Gabriel did something I’d never seen before. He blushed and shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“Some acronym for a teenage obscenity, I imagine,” he mumbled.

“Yes, but do you know what it means?”

He paused, trying to find the right words.

“It’s a term used by adolescent males to describe a woman who is both attractive and a mother.” He cleared his throat and got up quickly to refill the water jug.

“I’m sure it must stand for something,” I pressed.

“It does,” Gabriel said. “Ivy, can you remember what it is?”

“I believe it stands for ‘mother I’d like to . . . befriend,’ ” said my sister.

“Is that all?” I exclaimed. “What a fuss over nothing. I really think Miss Castle needs to
chill
.”

Small Miracles

With dinner over and the dishes washed, Gabriel took a book out onto the veranda even though the light was already fading, while Ivy continued to clean, wiping down surfaces that already looked immaculate. She was starting to come across as obsessive in her desire for cleanliness, but it might have just been her way of feeling closer to home. I looked around the room for something I could do. In the Kingdom time didn’t exist and therefore didn’t need to be filled. Finding things to do was very important on earth; it was what gave life purpose.

Gabriel must have sensed my unease because he seemed to change his mind about reading and poked his head back through the door.

“Why don’t we all go for a walk and watch the sunset?” he suggested.

“Great idea.” I felt my mood lift immediately. “You coming, Ivy?”

“Not until I go upstairs and get us something warmer to wear,” she said. “It gets very cold in the evening.”

I rolled my eyes at her display of caution. I was the only one who got cold, and I’d already put my coat on. Ivy and Gabriel had trained their bodies to maintain normal temperature on previous visits, but I still had a long way to go.

“You’re not even going to feel the cold,” I objected.

“That’s not the point. We may be seen not feeling the cold and draw attention.”

“Ivy’s right,” said Gabe. “Best to play it safe.” He disappeared upstairs, returning with two bulky jackets.

Our house was set high on the hill, so we had to meander our way down a series of sandy wooden steps before reaching the beach. The steps were so narrow that we had to walk single file. I couldn’t help thinking how much more convenient it would be if we could just release our wings and swoop down to the sand below. I didn’t articulate my thought to either Gabriel or Ivy, certain of the lecture that would follow if I did. I knew how dangerous flight was under the circumstances, a surefire way of blowing our cover. So we took mortal steps, all one hundred and seven of them, before reaching the shore.

I threw off my shoes to savor the feel of the silky grains beneath my feet. There was so much to notice on earth. Even the sand was complex, shifting in color and texture and quite iridescent in places where the sun hit it. Aside from the sand, I noticed that the beach held other small treasures: pearly shells, fragments of glass worn smooth by the motion of the water, the occasional half-buried sandal or an abandoned shovel, and tiny white crabs that scuttled in and out of little pea-size holes in the rock pools. Being so close to the ocean was thrilling for the senses—it seemed to roar like a living thing, filling my mind with noise that subsided and reared up again unexpectedly. The sound hurt my ears, and the sharp, salty air scratched my throat and nose. The wind whipping against my cheeks left them pink and stinging. But I was growing to love every minute of it—every part of being human brought with it some new sensation.

We walked along the shore, chased by the frothy waves of the tide coming in. Despite my recent resolve to exercise greater self-control, I couldn’t resist the sudden impulse to splash Ivy with my foot. I watched to see whether she might be annoyed, but she only checked to see that Gabriel was far enough ahead not to notice before aiming a retaliatory kick in my direction. It sent an arc of water into the air, which scattered like jewels over my head. Our laughter drew Gabriel’s attention, and he shook his head in wonder at our antics. Ivy winked at me and gestured in his direction. I knew what she had in mind and was more than happy to comply. Gabriel hardly noticed the extra weight when I jumped on his back and wrapped my arms around his neck. Supporting my weight with ease, he began running along the beach so fast the wind made a whistling noise in my ears. On his back I felt more like my old self again. I felt closer to Heaven and could almost believe I was flying.

Gabriel stopped abruptly and I let go of him, landing with a thud on the wet sand. He picked up some slimy strips of seaweed and lobbed them at Ivy, hitting her squarely in the face. She wrinkled her nose as the taste of the salty, bitter tendrils filled her mouth.

“Just you wait,” she spluttered. “You’re going to regret that!”

“I don’t think so,” Gabriel teased. “You’d have to catch me first.”

At sunset there were still a few people on the main beach, catching the last weak rays of the day before the icy wind sprang up, just as Ivy had predicted, or quietly enjoying picnic dinners. A mother and child were packing up nearby. The child, who couldn’t have been more than five or six, ran up to her mother tearfully. There was a swelling on her tiny plump arm, probably the result of an insect bite, which she had further inflamed by rubbing. The child cried even harder while her mother rummaged helplessly in her bag for some ointment. She brought out a tube of aloe gel but couldn’t calm her wriggling daughter enough to actually apply it.

The mother looked grateful as Ivy bent to comfort the child. “That’s a nasty bite,” she crooned softly.

The sound of her voice soothed the girl instantly, and she stared up at Ivy as if she were someone she’d known all her life. Ivy opened the tube and dabbed some ointment on the inflamed skin. “This should help,” she said. The child stared at her in awe, and I saw her eyes flicker to the space above her head, where her halo was. It was usually only visible to us. Was it possible that the little girl, with a child’s heightened awareness, may have sensed Ivy’s aura?

“Feel better?” Ivy asked.

“Much better,” the girl agreed. “Did you use magic?”

Ivy laughed. “I have a magic touch.”

“Thanks for your help,” said the young mother, watching in confusion as the redness and swelling on her child’s arm faded before her eyes until there was nothing but smooth, unblemished skin. “That’s some gel.”

“You’re welcome,” said Ivy. “Amazing what science can do these days.”

Without lingering further, we moved on down the beach toward the township.

By the time we reached the main street, it was about nine o’clock, but there were still people around even though it was a weeknight. The town center was a quaint place, full of antique shops and cafés that served tea and iced cakes on mismatched china. The shops had all closed save for the one pub and the ice cream parlor. We had barely walked a few feet when I heard a high-pitched voice calling out, carried over the chords of the banjo-playing busker on the street corner.

“Beth! Over here.”

At first I didn’t even realize that the person was calling out to me. Nobody had ever called me Beth before. The name I was given in the Kingdom had never been modified; it was always Bethany. There was an intimacy about “Beth” that I liked. Ivy and Gabriel froze in unison. When I turned back, I saw Molly with a group of friends sitting on a bench outside the ice cream parlor. She was wearing a backless halter dress, which was completely inappropriate given the weather, and was perched on the lap of a boy with sun-bleached hair and tropical board shorts. His broad hands were stroking her bare back in long rhythmic strokes. Molly waved frantically and beckoned me over. I glanced uncertainly at Ivy and Gabriel. They didn’t look happy. This was exactly the sort of interaction they wanted to avoid, and I saw Ivy stiffen at the commotion Molly was making. But both she and Gabriel knew that to blatantly ignore her would contravene laws of courtesy.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend, Bethany?” Ivy asked.

She placed a hand on my shoulder and guided me across to where Molly and her friends were sitting. The surfer looked peeved when Molly extricated herself from his grasp but was soon distracted, gawking unashamedly at Ivy, his jaw slack, his eyes taking in the symmetry of her body. When Molly saw my siblings up close, her face took on exactly the same awed look I’d seen all day at school. I waited for her to say something but she didn’t speak. Instead she opened and closed her mouth like a fish, before recovering her composure enough to give a wobbly smile.

“Molly, this is Ivy, my sister, and my brother, Gabriel,” I said quickly.

Molly’s eyes traveled from Gabriel’s face to Ivy’s, and she only just managed to stammer a hello before coyly averting her eyes. This was something of a surprise. I had watched her all day talking freely with the boys at school, luring and teasing them with her charm, then flitting away like an exotic butterfly.

Gabriel greeted Molly in the same manner as he greeted all new acquaintances—with impeccable politeness and an expression that was friendly but distancing.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said with a slight bow that seemed absurdly formal given the surroundings. Ivy was warmer and flashed Molly a kind smile. The poor girl looked like she’d just been hit by a ton of bricks.

Raucous shouts coming from down the street put an end to the awkwardness. The disturbance was caused by a group of burly young men coming out of the pub, so inebriated they were either unaware of the noise they were making or simply didn’t care. Two were now circling each other with fists clenched and faces contorted, and it was clear that a brawl was about to break out. Some people who’d been enjoying an evening coffee outside now retreated into the safety of the pub. Gabriel stepped forward so that Molly, Ivy, and I were positioned safely behind him. One of the men, unshaven and with an untidy mass of black hair, swung at the other. There was a crack as a fist connected with a jaw. The other man lunged, tackling his opponent to the ground, while the others in their circle cheered and spurred them on.

A look of repulsion flitted across Gabriel’s usually impassive face. He strode purposefully away from us toward the center of the scuffle. The onlookers were confused, wondering what this third party was doing there. Gabriel took hold of the dark-haired man and pulled him easily to his feet, despite the man’s weight. He hauled his companion, whose lip was already puffy and oozing blood, up from the ground and stood between them. One of them swung at Gabriel, but he intercepted the punch midair, his expression unchanged. Enraged by the interference, the two men joined forces and now directed their combined anger at Gabriel. They swung wildly at him, but every punch failed to find its mark. Yet, Gabriel had not moved. Eventually both men tired and slumped to the ground, their chests heaving from the effort.

“Go home,” Gabriel said, his voice resonating like a crack of thunder. It was the first time he had spoken to them and the authority in his voice had a sobering effect. They lingered a moment or two, as if weighing up their decision, then staggered off, steadied by their friends and still swearing under their breaths.

“Wow, that was amazing,” Molly gushed when Gabriel returned to us. “How did you do that? Are you like a karate expert or something?”

Gabriel shrugged off the attention. “I’m a pacifist,” he said. “There’s no honor in violence.”

Molly struggled to come up with an adequate response.

“Well . . . do you wanna hang out with us?” she said eventually. “The mint-chocolate-chip ice cream here is to die for. Here, Beth, have a taste. . . .”

Before I could object, she leaned over and shoved her outstretched spoon into my mouth. Immediately something cold and slippery began dissolving on my tongue. It seemed to be shifting shape—transforming from velvety solid to liquid that trickled down my throat. The cold made my head ache and I swallowed as quickly as I could.

“It’s great,” I said truthfully.

“Told you,” said Molly. “Here, let me get you some. . . .”

“I’m afraid we have to get home,” Gabriel cut in, rather brusquely.

“Oh . . . right, sure,” said Molly.

I felt for her as she tried to hide her disappointment.

“Maybe some other time,” I suggested.

“Sure thing,” she said more hopefully, turning back to her friends. “See you tomorrow, Beth. Hey, wait, I almost forgot. I got you something.” She dug into her bag and pulled out a tube of the Melon Sorbet lip gloss I had tried at school. “You said you liked it, so I got you some.”

“Thanks, Molly,” I stammered. I had just received my first earthly gift and was touched by her thoughtfulness. “That’s so sweet of you.”

“No big deal. Hope you like it.”

No comments were made about my new friendship with Molly on our way home, although I saw Ivy and Gabriel exchange meaningful looks a few times. I was too tired by then to try and decipher what they meant.

Getting ready for bed that night, I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror that stretched across an entire wall. It had taken some getting used to—being able to see what I looked like. In the Kingdom we could see others but never our own image. Sometimes you caught a glimpse of yourself reflected in someone’s eyes, but even then it was a blur, like an artist’s rudimentary sketch that still lacked color and detail.

Having human form meant the sketch was fleshed out. I could see every hair, every pore, with perfect clarity. Compared with the other girls at Venus Cove, I knew I must look strange. My skin was alabaster pale while they still sported tans from the summer. My eyes were wide and brown; my pupils hugely dilated. Molly and her friends looked as if they never tired of experimenting with their hair, but mine was simply parted in the middle and fell in natural chestnut waves. I had a full, coral-colored mouth, which, I was later to learn, could give the impression that I was sulking.