Earthbound Bones

by ReGina Welling

  “Fine,” she snapped, “I used to be a guardian angel. I tried to save one of my charges from crossing over before her time, and fell from heaven. Now I’m stuck in this…this human body, and I think I’m here to help your brother’s spirit move on.”

  Pam’s mouth dropped open, then snapped shut; her eyes narrowed, searched Adriel’s for signs of mental instability. Adriel crossed her arms and stood staunchly defiant under Pam’s piercing gaze.

  “Why don’t you join me for dinner, and I’ll tell you about it,” Adriel spoke softly, calmly.

  Even if Pam thought her story was a load of something frequently found in a pasture, Adriel could tell she was willing to listen.

  “But that’s…” she began to protest.

  “Crazy? Impossible?” Adriel filled in the sentence for her. “You think I don’t know how it sounds?” The need for proof wrote itself all over Pam’s face. “Remember the moment you first saw me.”

  Refusing to sit in the chair Adriel gestured toward, Pam paced as she replayed the entire scene in her mind. She saw the flash of angel wings, the outstretched hand; felt the truck stop when it should have continued forward. Brown eyes widened and glittered in her now-pale face.

  “You,” she pointed with a shaking hand but could not say more.

  “Yes.” For the first time all day, Adriel smiled. Secrets became a burden when not shared. “I am the angel Galmadriel.” Her smile gave way to a frown, “Former angel. Or half angel, or something like it. That is the subject of much debate among my former brethren.”

  “I think I need to sit down for a minute. This is a lot to process.” Pam’s knees wobbled, but carried her the few steps to the table where she sat heavily. Adriel set a cup of tea in front of Pam and took the seat across the table. After a moment—and a sip of tea—Pam seemed to have regained some of her equilibrium.

  Until she glanced around the room and her already pale face turned a sickly shade of gray.

  “You’re an angel, and I acted like I was doing you a favor to let you stay in this dump? I’m sorry. I had no idea. Well, you can’t stay here.”

  The last thing Adriel expected was to be ousted and homeless again. Was this some kind of discrimination?

  “My place isn’t heaven, but it’s better than this. We’ll trade.”

  Oh.

  “No, thank you, Pam. I’m fine here with the cat.”

  “Winston?”

  “Yes, Winston. He’s not especially talkative, though”

  “You can talk to animals? That’s a skill I’d love to have. Unless they talk all the time, and then it would probably get old really quickly.” Not as quickly as you will if you keep babbling like this, the thought ran through Pam’s head, this is an angel you’re boring to tears. Just shut up.

  Pam had no idea she’d spoken aloud, and Adriel bit her lip to keep from giving anything away.

  Adriel couldn’t help but smile when instead of shutting up, Pam’s nerves took over and pushed her mouth into overdrive. For the next few minutes, she described her favorite childhood pet—a white cat with a black tail and two black spots on his head named Buttermilk, who had been both a confidant and boon companion. She avoided any mention of Ben.

  Sensing the nervous energy behind Pam’s spate of words, Adriel sipped her tea and patiently waited for her to push through the internal struggle to see the simple truth. Minute after minute filled with idle chatter, masking any notice of the elephant in the room

  Finally, Pam managed to put a clamp on her case of verbal incontinence, and just stared at Adriel with questions in her eyes about what to do next.

  “Let me get this straight. You’re an angel in a human body, and no one up there can find anything better to have you do than live in this…” words failed her, so she just waved a hand to indicate the small space, ”and sling pastries for barely more than tip money while you clear up a thirty-year-old mystery?”

  Not auspicious, but that about sums it up. Adriel answered. “Yes.”

  “Can you…” Pam looked left then right and whispered, “Do stuff?”

  “Stuff?”

  “You know, like smite people?”

  Adriel sighed. “No, and I don’t play a harp, or wear a golden halo, either.”

  “Well, what can you do?”

  “That is another topic of some debate. Angels can take on human form, but they remain beings of light—of energy—not of physicality. I’m the first one to ever be earthbound. I can tell you more things I can no longer do than things I can. That list is long and lamented. Oh, and my super power is killing electronics with nothing more than a glance.”

  “My GPS. Okay, I get why you don’t drive. Or why you never answer your mobile.” Adriel flashed Pam a grin.

  “I’ve tried, but the minute I touch it, the batteries drain to nothing.” A hint of bitterness crept in, “I’m useless.”

  “But you’ve talked to my brother, right? So you can see ghosts.” It was a good point.

  “Yes, I suppose I can. He’s been with you all these years, if that helps.”

  “A little. I’m ashamed to say this, but I’ve had years to grieve, and as much as I miss him, knowing what happened has lifted a burden from me. I’d give anything to be able to see him one more time, so I envy you the ability; but there’s also a sense of relief I’m unable to describe.”

  Leaving that line of conversation for another time and place, Adriel offered Pam a bowl of chowder while she questioned her more thoroughly about events on the day of Ben’s accident.

  Getting her secret out into the open eased something in Adriel. By the time their bowls were empty, they had the start of a timeline with as much detail as Pam could remember, and a plan to add to it.

  On her way out the door, Adriel heard Pam mutter, “Oh, good Lord, I took an angel to a bra fitting.”

  “Good thing I can’t smite people, isn’t it?” Adriel called after her.

  ***

  Over the next few days, Pam and Adriel fell into what was becoming their new routine of eating breakfast together and trading information. Pam placed a plate of something that looked like a slice bread cooked in some kind of coating in front of Adriel, and drizzled it with deeply amber maple syrup. The dish smelled intoxicating.

  “What’s this called?”

  “French toast.” Pam’s face tried to frown and smile at the same time. Even though Adriel thought Pam had believed her story, the occasional doubt surfaced. Moments like these put those doubts to rest. She whispered to Adriel, “Don’t they have food in heaven? I’m rethinking whether I want to go there if I can’t eat all the chocolate and pastries I want and not gain weight.”

  “Not every angel has taken on a human lifetime. I had no idea how satisfying food could be until now.” The answer to her question was quite a lot more complex than that, but there was a code to follow. Humans should not have too much information about their final destination.

  With the finding of Ben’s remains being the talk of the town, it was easy enough for Adriel to mine customers for information, and for Pam to do the same. When Callum walked into Just Desserts, Pam sidled up to Adriel, waggled her eyebrows and added a hint of suggestiveness, “Maybe you could interrogate him.” A stricken look crossed her face. “Oh, no. That was inappropriate, wasn’t it? Do angels, you know…”

  Adriel wasn’t sure she did know, so she twirled a hand to indicate Pam should explain.

  Pam’s voice dropped to a whisper, “Sex.” Adriel’s face went red and hot.

  “I’m familiar with the concept.” The absolute dryness in her tone shut the conversation down—partly to keep from having to examine the purely physical impulses Callum had raised in her, and partly to keep from giving away information Pam should not be privy to in the first place.

  ***

  Everything Adriel had experienced over the past few weeks made her rethink her attitude toward humans. In a case of outright snobbery, she had neglected to consider how many factors played on the emotions. So
me physical; some mental. When she began experiencing an overwhelming desire to return to Oakville, at first she chalked it up to some kind of hormonal influence, and did her best to ignore the mounting pressure.

  Although Estelle was sure he was fine, Julius had not returned since the day the dark entity sent him away. Neither of her erstwhile guardians responded to her calls, which was highly frustrating. Their prolonged absence planted seeds of suspicion that one of both of them might be behind the compulsion. In the end, Adriel gave in and started looking for a means of transportation. Driving a car was out since Pam knew better than to loan hers, and Adriel had no one else to ask.

  One of Craig’s boxes contained a map of the state that showed Adriel just how disconcertingly close Oakville was to her present location. A mere twelve miles. Even if she could convince one of her friends to give her a ride back, that was a long walk.

  Remembering Pam’s advice to stick to riding a bike, and Craig’s affinity for keeping everything he ever owned, checking the as-yet unexplored shed in the corner of the property was probably going to be her best bet. The idea of going in there, though, gave her pause. Adriel had nothing against spiders. It was their homes she could do without—particularly when it came to wearing bits of said homes, along with their inevitable cargo of dead bug parts, anywhere on her person.

  Her expectations were met when she yanked the door open to see an absolute wall of yuck. This was worse than the lean-to shed where she’d found the yard implements. So, saying an apology to all eight-legged beasties within hearing distance, she taped a flashlight to the handle of an old broom—light pointing bristle-ward—and swept down every sticky, dusty web barring her way.

  There was a moment of regret for opportunities lost as she stumbled over a gas-powered lawn mower that would have made her life a lot easier these past few weeks. Surprisingly, the area contained less clutter than the cabin. And an old car.

  Adriel’s unwillingness to drive didn’t mean she knew nothing about cars. This thing, however, barely qualified. Only when she squinted could she pick out the make and model. As best as she could tell, it was a 1970’s era Frankenmobile. The main body was a Buick Skylark. Adriel could tell because it was the 1972 Suncoupe model that featured a retractable canvas sunroof. The rest of it, though, was a mix and match of parts. Pontiac LeMans fenders, doors from a Chevelle, and the rear clip had come from an Olds Grand Prix. None of the trim matched up anywhere, and every part of the car was a different color. As a finishing touch, the previous owner had bolted on a hood ornament off a ‘56 Chevy. A heavy layer of dust coated the chrome, and it was pitted in a few spots, but she admired the sleek lines of the aircraft in flight. Even in its current state, the car had nice lines.

  But she wasn’t here to look at a car, she was here to find a bicycle.

  Just when it seemed her efforts had been fruitless, the beam of light picked out a flash of red from a reflector affixed to the bumper of a vintage Schwinn. From the teasing glimpse Adriel managed at this distance, the bike appeared to be blue, with a two-tone saddle seat, and white sidewall tires. Some rusty old farm implements blocked the Schwinn from an easy trip back to daylight, but Adriel was determined to release it from its cage of darkness.

  As she reached for the first obstacle—something with pointy tines curved into large C shapes—she heard a voice behind her drawl, “I hope your Tetanus shot is up to date.”

  Whirling, she glared at Callum. “Sneaking up on me like that when I have a weapon in my hand is not a good idea.”

  “What were you going to do? Sweep me to death? Blind me with the flashlight?”

  Despite her annoyance, his question drew a wry smile.

  “Maybe,” she brandished the broom, “I should warn you, this thing’s loaded.”

  “With cobwebs. I think I’ll take my chances,” he scoffed.

  “Did you come in here to help, or just to state the obvious? It seems to be your biggest talent.” She really wanted to get that bike out of its cocoon and see what shape it was in.

  Callum refrained from answering and, with a ripple of muscle that drew a sigh from Adriel’s lips for some reason she wasn’t quite sure she understood, lifted the many-tined whatsit out of the way as though it weighed no more than a feather. Just as quickly, he dispatched each remaining obstacle before flexing again to lift the dusty blue bike and carry it outside.

  “Nice shape for its age.”

  “It seems sturdy enough.”

  “Tires have a little dry rot, but I think there’s another set hanging on a nail back there. Might be newer.” Adriel watched him disappear back into the shed, her eyes lingering on the planes of his broad shoulders. The sound of something falling followed by a couple of nasty words prompted her to call out to see if he had been hurt.

  “I’m fine. One sec.” He emerged from the shed holding a pair of tires in one hand and an extra set of tubes in the other. “Got them. Let’s have a look.” Callum laid one tire up against the bike and passed the other through his hand to check for cracks.

  “Well?” Adriel said when he was through.

  “They’ll do. I saw a pump hanging on the wall by the workbench.” He pulled out a multi-use pocket knife and used one of the implements to let the remaining air out of the inner tube. “Go get it, would you?” The order was tossed carelessly over his shoulder.

  Adriel watched with fascinated interest as Callum set to work wrestling the old tires from the rims. He used a pair of screwdrivers to pry the rubber away from the spoked metal, then reversed the process after tucking a new inner tube into place.

  About ten minutes into the job, he muttered, “Be nice if someone offered me a cold drink.” Chagrined, Adriel realized she had forgotten her manners. There was a pitcher of sun tea brewing on the porch; by the color she judged it strong enough, and quickly dosed it with ice, a little lemon, and just enough sugar to take the bitterness away. She poured two glasses and returned to where Callum was just beginning to pry the second tire from the rim.

  “Would you like a cold drink?” Her tone was sweeter than the tea, but with an edge of sarcasm.

  “Yes, thanks.” Callum stood, stripped off his shirt, then rubbed the cool glass across his forehead. Adriel’s mouth went dry at the sight, and to make matters worse, she gulped down too much iced tea and nearly choked. Luckily, Callum had already turned back to his task and didn’t notice.

  “There, I think the old girl still has some life in her.”

  “Thank you for all your hard work.”

  “She’s almost ready to go. One more thing and you’ll be able to test her out.”

  “Maybe later,” Adriel reached for the bike, “It needs a good cleaning first.”

  “She,” he emphasized, “is just a little dusty.” For lack of anything else handy, he swiped his own tee shirt over the bike.

  “She? How does an inanimate object develop a gender?”

  “No idea. Just the way it is.” Callum called back over his shoulder as he disappeared into the shed again to return seconds later with a small oil can. The chain and sprockets received a liberal anointing with the smelly contents while he lifted the rear tire off the ground and had Adriel spin the pedal. “Take her for a spin.” After a few revolutions, the wheel spun free and easy. Callum had her test the brakes by reversing the pedal. They worked like a charm.

  “Maybe later.” After you’ve gone.

  “You do know how to ride a bike don’t you?”

  The lie trembled on her lips but would not pass them. “No. But I’m sure I can figure it out all on my own. Surely it can’t be that difficult a thing to learn. Children do it every day.”

  The way his eyes lit up, Adriel knew she was in trouble. Flipping up the kickstand, he gestured for her to take her place on the seat. Half a zillion thoughts chased through Adriel’s head, and not a single valid excuse among them.

  “It’s all about balance and momentum. Put your feet on the pedals and I’ll give you a push to get started.”

&n
bsp; “There’s no need…”

  “Hold onto the handlebars and if you want to stop, just turn the pedals backwards. This model isn’t equipped with hand brakes.” Every attempt to deflect his help went ignored.

  She sent up a prayer that she wouldn’t tip over in front of him, and felt his hand brush her backside as he grasped the seat to help guide her forward. Distracted by the tingling from the point of contact, she wobbled the handlebars when the bike started to move.

  “Pedal.”

  Callum’s shouted command startled Adriel’s feet into motion. With a mighty shove, he propelled her down the drive while she pedaled madly until she felt the rhythm click into place and everything smoothed out. Leaning into the motion, she felt the wind rush past cheeks sore from smiling. This was more fun than she ever expected. Sometimes being human wasn’t half bad.

  At the end of the drive, Adriel completed a turn that was only a little shaky, and pedaled back toward the man who grinned back at her.

  “Not bad for your first time.”

  “Faint praise, but I’ll take it. Thank you for…well, everything.”

  “Pay me back by letting me take you to dinner.”

  “How would that be paying you back? I don’t follow your logic.” And she suspected there were undercurrents of human interaction here that she wasn’t able to understand. Oddly, a memory from a recent movie marathon with Pam provided the answer as Adriel searched her mind for context. “A date?” Her shocked tone turned the half-grin on his face into a toothy smile.

  “Now you’re catching on. I just want to get to know you better. Over dinner.”

  Her angel past and her human present started a full-on battle over whether dating was something either of them should be doing, while Callum waited with an amused expression on his face as though he could see her internal struggle.

  Human beat angel, which, she supposed, spoke volumes about how free will actually works. It was a bad idea, and she didn’t care, because she felt drawn to him in ways that had everything to do with hormones.