Eye of the Oracle oof-1

by Bryan Davis

  “There is no doubt that you saved Ashley’s life.” Merlin’s bright silhouette paced in front of Gabriel. “After losing Shiloh, you rebounded well as a guardian angel.”

  “Thanks. I know I’m not a real angel, but sometimes I felt like I was supposed to be. It’s hard when you can’t always figure out what to do.”

  “Intelligence must mingle with wisdom and shrewd planning.” Merlin stopped and touched Gabriel’s chest with his glowing finger. “You cannot rely on your physical field alone. Electricity manipulation is limited and dangerous.”

  “I know. It’s sort of shocking, too.”

  Merlin’s energy field flashed red. “Very funny. You almost disintegrated, and now you’re making jests.”

  “Right.” Gabriel bowed his head. “Sorry.”

  Merlin slowly faded back to dazzling white. He floated to the darkest part of the chamber and knelt next to a fissure in the floor. “I awakened you, because you are likely now strong enough to leave the candlestone.”

  “I feel strong.” Gabriel knelt beside him. “Trust me. I’ll get out somehow.”

  “And you must. Your next assignment awaits.”

  “Next assignment? Do you mean I can’t watch over Ashley?”

  “You may visit her from time to time, because your new charge lives within a reasonable distance. But you must not let your concern for Ashley distract you from focusing on Bonnie.”

  “Bonnie?”

  “Yes.” Merlin rose to his feet. “Bonnie Conner is the daughter of Irene, formerly Hartanna. She has a wonderful dragon trait that has only recently become obvious, and her parents will now have to hide it to keep the slayers at bay.”

  “What trait does she have?”

  “You’ll soon find out.” Merlin gestured for Gabriel to stand. “Come, let us expand our vision, and I will show you where Bonnie lives. Then, you must leave this place and become her guardian angel.”

  Gabriel glided up to the two-story Victorian home, flapping his wings as he ascended the three wooden porch steps. Although his movements did nothing to propel him, changing his energy boundaries made him feel more alive and less like a floating cloud of invisible gas.

  Pausing at the front door, he read the address, 377, each calligraphic numeral illuminated by the rays of the rising sun. He glanced around for a way inside. Weather stripping blocked the crack under the door, so he drifted to the side of the house and focused on a vent, possibly leading to a kitchen stove. Traveling past soot and hot air wouldn’t be fun, but he had entered Ashley’s new home that way.

  Shaking his head, Gabriel floated back to the porch. Ashley’s home was where he really wanted to be, and it was only about eight or nine miles away on the other side of Missoula, about an hour’s journey at the pace his thought-induced locomotion provided. This assignment would be so different. Bonnie and her parents were strangers. What if she turned out to be a brat? Or a stuck-up princess, smug and proud as she strutted about in her latest fashions?

  Gabriel peered in through a window that abutted the door. Standing beside a coat rack in the foyer, a woman helped a little girl adjust a backpack, checking the zippers multiple times and smoothing out the wrinkles in her sweatshirt. The woman grabbed a jacket from the rack, and the two headed for the door.

  As Gabriel backed away, the door flew open. Swinging a Winnie-the-Pooh lunch box, the girl bounced out and ran right through Gabriel. The woman followed, laughing. “Bonnie! Wait! What’s your hurry?”

  Bonnie spun around and backpedaled toward the street, her blonde hair streaming in the stiff breeze. “If I’m late for my first day, the teacher might not like me!”

  “Who wouldn’t like you, silly girl?” Her mother caught up and took her hand. “Anyway, the bus won’t be at our corner for another five minutes. There’s plenty of time.”

  As mother and daughter walked hand in hand along the sidewalk, Gabriel followed close behind. Bonnie seemed nice enough, far from what he had feared. No bratty princess could ever produce her smile so pure, so genuine, the image of youthful innocence. Her mother, of course, had to be Irene, the former dragon who once bore the name Hartanna. She seemed dutiful and friendly, another welcome discovery.

  He zoomed ahead, then floated backwards in front of Bonnie, matching her pace. He gazed into her bright blue eyes so much like Shiloh’s, it was amazing! In fact, her hair, the shape of her nose, the way she walked, everything about her reminded him of Shiloh. How could cousins look that much alike?

  When the two stopped at the corner, Irene pulled Bonnie’s hair back into a thick ponytail and wrapped it in an elastic band. “Remember,” she whispered, stooping to meet her eye to eye. “Don’t take off your backpack and no one will see your. . um. . growths.” She pulled the hem down on Bonnie’s sweatshirt and kissed her forehead. “It’s very important that no one finds out about them.”

  Bonnie nodded, her smile unabated. “Okay, Mama. I won’t take it off.”

  “Good. You were right to tell me about those growths. We’ll talk more about them later.”

  Bonnie adjusted the strap on her backpack. “Will I have to go to the doctor?”

  “We’ll see.” A diesel engine clattered in the distance. “Here comes the bus.” Irene kissed Bonnie again. “You’ll be fine. I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends.”

  The bus pulled to a whining stop. When the doors swung open, Bonnie hopped on board and waved to her mother. Gabriel drifted in behind Bonnie and waved with her, though, of course, Irene had no idea he was there.

  Bonnie turned and smiled at the bus driver. “Hi! I’m Bonnie! What’s your name?”

  “Pearl.” The middle-aged woman frowned under her tightly pulled hair bun and pointed toward the back. “Now sit down.”

  Bonnie’s smile faded. She walked slowly down the aisle, her eyes shifting from side to side. One girl laid a notebook on the seat next to her and gave Bonnie a nasty glare. Another whispered with her neighbor and giggled as Bonnie passed by. When she approached the rear of the bus, a boy tossed a wad of paper that bounced off her cheek. “No first graders back here!” he called.

  “Look at her stupid lunch box,” another boy said. “Only babies watch Winnie the Pooh!”

  Blinking rapidly as she retreated toward the front, Bonnie hitched up her backpack and slid into an empty bench in the middle section. She wiped a tear from her eye and leaned her head against the window, her lips tight and her chin quivering.

  Gabriel sat next to her. He scooted close and wrapped a wing around her whole body. Of course she couldn’t feel it, but maybe he could somehow relay a bit of sympathy. The very first stab of rejection always bled profusely, a shedding of innocence he knew all too well.

  Bonnie glanced at another little girl sitting alone across the aisle. With her chin pointing at her chest, the girl’s gaze wandered Bonnie’s way, and the hand in her lap gave Bonnie the slightest hint of a wave.

  Keeping her head against the window, Bonnie waved back.

  The girl flashed a gap-toothed smile. “Do you want to be my friend?”

  Bonnie nodded, her lips still tight.

  “My name is Carly.” She patted the seat next to her. “You can sit by me if you want to.”

  Bonnie glanced at the driver, then hopped across the aisle. “I’m Bonnie,” she said as she slid in next to her new friend.

  Carly pointed at Bonnie’s lunch box and whispered. “I watch Winnie the Pooh. Tigger’s my favorite.”

  “Me, too!” Bonnie smiled and bounced in her seat. “Can you tell?”

  Carly pulled a lunch box from under her shoes. A bouncing Tigger decorated the front and back. “Shhh!” She glanced toward the rear. “Don’t tell those boys.”

  “Who cares what they think?” Bonnie looped her arm around Carly’s. “As long as we stick together.”

  “Yeah,” Carly said, tightening their clutch. “Who cares what they think?”

  Gabriel floated close to the two girls. As they chatted happily, it seemed as though th
e gentle power of pure love streamed into his energy field, strengthening him with every second. What a perfect assignment! Being with this little angel would be like heaven itself.

  As the bus rolled to a stop, Gabriel surveyed the passersby on the sidewalk. It was time to go to work. His duty had transformed from a chore to a labor of love. No one would dare lay a finger on Bonnie, not if he could help it. This time, he would not fail.

  Sapphira sat with her arms wrapped around her legs. Since Gabriel awakened and emerged from the candlestone after all those years, she finally had something to watch. With the viewing screen dark for so long, she had barely noticed it after a while, just glancing at it from time to time as she pored over her finger-worn books. Now, the new adventures that flashed before her eyes awakened her imagination and filled her with new hope.

  As Bonnie and Carly laughed together, Sapphira smiled. What a sweet little girl! She seemed to dance through life like a waltzing flower. Even after enduring the nasty glares and verbal barbs, her faith in love and kindness seemed unearthly.

  Sapphira wiped a tear from her cheek. Bonnie Conner was definitely worth watching.

  Gabriel peered into Bonnie’s bedroom and spied her sitting in the midst of a circle of rag dolls. Good. She had finished changing into her nightgown. He breezed in and sat in front of her. As she dressed one of the dolls for bed, he let his gaze wander. On the walls, hand-painted pastel balloons floated in the midst of a pale pink sky, and bright green grass near the floor partially hid a mouse, a rabbit, and, peeking out from behind a bookshelf, a wide-eyed raccoon. A Tigger blanket covered a youth bed in one corner, and a white three-drawer dresser filled the opposite corner, but most of the room seemed dedicated to a host of small, handmade Raggedy-Ann-and-Andy-type dolls.

  Sitting cross-legged, Bonnie set one doll on each knee, animating the one on her right with a gentle shake. “Carly,” she said, her voice pitching high, “You’re my best friend.” She gave the other doll a shake. “And you’re mine, too, Bonnie.”

  As Bonnie continued playacting with her dolls, Gabriel focused on a new pair of voices filtering into the room in hushed tones. The name Carly, however, came through clearly.

  Bonnie’s head perked up. She leaned over and pulled the door fully open, and the voices clarified.

  “Well,” a man said, “I’m glad to hear she found a friend, but I have work to do and ”

  “Wait,” came a woman’s reply. “There’s something else. Remember those growths I called you about?”

  “Yes. Did you figure out what they are?”

  “When she got home, I studied them carefully. They have scales.”

  “Scales? Like dry skin scales?”

  “No. Like armor scales. And there are two sharp points that remind me of claw hooks.”

  Bonnie tightened her grip on her two dolls and leaned closer to the door. The few seconds of silence seemed to last an hour. Finally, the man blurted out, “Wings? We can’t have a daughter with wings!”

  “Shhh! Not so loud! We have what we have, and there’s no way to change it.”

  “But,” the man continued, “we won’t be able to show our faces in public, not with a mutant for a daughter!”

  “She’s not a mutant. You understand genetics well enough to know that.”

  “Then she’s a freak, a freak of nature. No human has ever grown wings before. We’ll have to ”

  The conversation stopped. Heavy footsteps pounded in the hallway. Irene leaned into the bedroom.

  “Mama!” Bonnie cried. “Why did Daddy say ”

  Irene raised a finger to her lips. “We’ll talk in a few minutes.” She gave Bonnie a brief tight-lipped smile, and closed the door. The footsteps, quieter now, retreated.

  Bonnie stared at the door, her mouth open and tears streaming down her cheeks. Covering her face with her dolls, she drew her knees up to her chest and wept. As she rocked back and forth, her head bobbed, and tiny, shrill cries seeped between her two raggedy friends.

  Gabriel tried to cover her with his wings and lay an arm over her shoulders, but it was useless. She couldn’t feel the slightest bit of reassurance from an invisible, massless comforter.

  He straightened to his full height and spread his wings as he gazed upward. “What can I do?” he called out in his electrostatic voice. “If you want me to guard her, at least let me do my job! I know exactly how she feels! I can help her!”

  He looked at Bonnie and yelled as loud as he could. “Bonnie! Can you hear me?”

  Bonnie’s red, tear-stained face peeked out. Her eyes widened. She laid her palms on the floor and slid back toward the wall, trembling.

  Gabriel lowered his voice slightly. “Don’t be afraid,” he said, holding out his hand. “I won’t hurt you.”

  Bonnie swallowed. “Who. . who are you?”

  “My name is Gabriel.”

  “Gabriel?” Bonnie pointed at her bookshelf. “Like the angel in the Bible?”

  Gabriel noted a child-sized Bible lying on top of the shelf. How should he answer? He certainly didn’t want to lie. He took a half step closer. “What do I look like to you?”

  Bonnie wiggled her fingers. “Like a sparkly ghost with wings. I can see right through you.”

  “It’s fair to say that I am like a guardian angel, for I have been assigned to watch over you.”

  “Why?” Bonnie pointed at herself. “I’m not important.”

  “You are far more important than you realize. You heard about your wings, didn’t you?”

  Bonnie’s eyes teared up again. “Daddy said I’m a freak.”

  “Look at me.” Gabriel flapped his wings. “Do you think I’m a freak?”

  “No.” Bonnie wiped a tear with her finger. “But you’re an angel.”

  Gabriel knelt next to her and caressed her hair with his hand. “And so are you, the sweetest angel I have ever met.”

  Bonnie raised her hand and set it on Gabriel’s arm. “I can’t feel you at all.”

  “No, and you couldn’t see me earlier, even though I was with you all day.”

  “All day?” Bonnie sniffed and smiled. “Really?”

  “Yes, I saw that sour bus driver and those mean boys, but I also saw your new friend Carly and her Tigger lunch box.”

  Bonnie took in a quick breath. “You really were there!”

  “And I will stay with you as long as I can. Even if you can’t see me or hear me, I’ll be there.”

  Bonnie drew back her hand. “You’re disappearing! Don’t go!”

  “I won’t go. I’ll stay here all night.”

  “I can barely hear you now.”

  “Then hurry to bed, and I’ll sing you to sleep.”

  “Oh, please do!” Bonnie jumped up and turned off her light, then, throwing back her blanket, she nestled into her bed. “I’m ready!” Her eyes darted around. “But I can’t see you anymore.”

  Gabriel knelt at her bedside. “Can you still hear me?”

  “Yes, but like a whisper.”

  “Okay. Close your eyes. I’ll sing as loud as I can.”

  Bonnie closed her eyes tightly and drew her blanket up to her chin. Her delicate lashes still sparkled with leftover tears.

  Gabriel stroked her hair again and sang.

  Whither shall I go from thy spirit?

  Or whither shall I flee from thy presence?

  If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there:

  If I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there.

  Bonnie smiled. Her eyelids began to relax, and she sighed deeply.

  If I take the wings of the morning,

  and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea;

  Even there shall thy hand lead me,

  and thy right hand shall hold me.

  If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me;

  even the night shall be light about me.

  Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee;

  but the night shineth as the day:

  The darkness and the light are bot
h alike to thee.

  As light from the window faded, Bonnie opened her eyes again. “Are you still here?”

  “Yes, I’m still here.”

  “Gabriel?” She reached out her hand. “Are you here?”

  “Yes, sweet angel,” Gabriel said, laying his hand on hers. “Can’t you hear me?”

  Bonnie’s eyes darted around again. “Gabriel?”

  Gabriel tried to hold her hand, but his fingers passed right through hers. “I won’t leave you, Bonnie. I would give my life to protect you.”

  Bonnie straightened out the wrinkles on her blanket and laid her arms on top. “Gabriel, I guess I can’t hear you anymore, but you said you’d stay with me, so I know you must be here.” She closed her eyes again and smiled. “Angels never lie.”

  November, 2002

  Elam carried a lantern through the corridor that led to the ancient chamber. He glanced back at the man walking behind him, a tall, older gentleman who had to duck to make his way under the low ceiling. It had been hundreds of years since he had seen Merlin, but this new arrival looked so much like the old prophet, it was frightening.

  “Almost there, Professor Hamilton,” Elam said. “The ceiling gets higher in a few seconds.”

  “It’s quite all right, my good fellow. The anticipated meeting is well worth such trivial unpleasantries.”

  When Elam passed the final doorway, light from within the chamber washed out his lantern, so he lifted the glass and blew out the flame. Beside him, Professor Hamilton ran his fingers through his wild, gray hair. “Remarkable!” he said, gazing all around.

  Elam smiled. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

  A voice beckoned from the far end of the chamber. “Charles! Welcome!” Patrick waved at them from the round table in the back. “Come here and join us.”

  Elam led Charles over the compass design on the floor in the center of the room. “The table used to be here,” Elam said. “I’m not sure why they moved it.”

  Professor Hamilton slowed his pace as he passed over the design. His eyes locked on one of the sketches. “Astounding!”