He took a deep breath. ‘That’s right. I didn’t have a dream, Dad … But I saw David last night.’
‘What?’ asked his father, giving him a curious sideways glance.
Shane leant forward and couldn’t hide his excitement. ‘It was fantastic, Dad! He looks great!’
Shane’s father wasn’t ready for this: it was too early in the morning. He held up two hands as if he was stopping traffic in an emergency. ‘Look, Shane, I know you miss him, and God knows we all do, but you’ve got to let go — he’s gone.’
‘Yeah, he has, but not far — he’s an angel now!’ Shane’s head spun as he recalled the experience. ‘He’s cool, Dad. He can fly, glow in the dark and do heaps of other things that you wouldn’t believe. It was no dream, honest. He was really here.’
Shane’s father was far from convinced. He felt panic-stricken, sure that Shane had finally gone crazy. He was speechless and sat in a daze listening to Shane ramble on.
‘He couldn’t come and see you, but he told me to tell you and Mum that he’s okay. You don’t have to worry about him.’ Shane paused, raised one hand and moved it slowly through the air. He had a glazed look in his eyes. His voice was soft and mysterious. ‘He just faded into the night, Dad … just faded into the night like a moonbeam.’
Shane’s father turned away. Anxiety overwhelmed him. ‘Jenny! Jenny! Come here quickly!’ he shouted.
Shane’s mother arrived with a coffee cup in her hand. ‘What on earth’s the matter, Rob?’ she frowned.
Rob pointed at Shane. ‘T … tell your mum what you just told me.’
Shane stood on his bed and repeated his story with waving arms and sound effects.
His mother was stunned. As he spoke her face twisted from shock, to sadness, then back again. By the time he’d finished, she was a mess. She bent down and in a fumbling fashion tried to put Shane’s slippers on for him.
Shane pulled his feet away. ‘What are you doing, Mum? I’ve got to get ready for school. I don’t need my slippers.’
Words stumbled from her lips. ‘Well no, well not today. I … think we’ll take you down to Dr Pratt. Rob, give her a call and get the car ready.’
Mr Hamilton sat staring at the ceiling, shaking his head. His wife suddenly jabbed him hard with her elbow. ‘ROB! Call Dr Pratt and get the car!’
Shane wasn’t quite sure what his next move should be. His parents hadn’t believed a word he’d said. As far as they were concerned, he was crazy. He’d lost it.
‘We’ll get … we’ll get … to Dr Pratt,’ Jenny stammered, pushing Shane’s arms into his dressing gown. She pulled Shane in close when she’d finished. ‘You’ll be all right, Shane, there’s nothing to worry about.’
Shane leant away from his mother’s embrace. ‘I’m fine, Mum. There’s nothing wrong with me. It wasn’t a dream. It was different from the dreams.’
Jenny pulled a shaky brush through Shane’s hair. ‘Yes, of course Shane, of course it was.’
Shane turned to her, his eyes sparkling. ‘You should see him fly, Mum — he’s amazing.’
Jenny put a fist to her mouth.
The run to Dr Pratt’s office was like a roller coaster ride. Shane’s father drove like a maniac, revving off at traffic lights, weaving from lane to lane.
‘I wish you’d believe me,’ said Shane from the back seat.
His father squealed around another corner. Shane held the door handle. ‘He just wanted me to tell you that he was happy, that’s all.’
Shane pushed his feet hard to the floor as they went straight through the roundabout and decided to stop chatting until they got to Dr Pratt’s office. He wondered how she would react to the news.
Dr Pratt
Dr Pratt was a tall woman with a wonderful smile. Her gold-rimmed glasses were a striking contrast to her long black hair. Shane liked Dr Pratt. He’d been visiting her for almost a year now. She talked to him about things, lots of things, like basketball, nightmares and David, especially David.
When the Hamiltons stumbled into her office, the normally composed Dr Pratt found it difficult to hide her surprise at the sight that greeted her. Mr Hamilton with half a beard, Mrs Hamilton wearing a white blouse spattered with coffee and Shane wrapped untidily in his dressing gown with his slippers on the wrong feet, smiling sheepishly up at her.
Dr Pratt stood silent, her warm smile faded to a bemused grin.
‘So,’ she said brightly, snapping out of her confusion, ‘what’s been happening in the Hamilton household?’
Her question brought an immediate and spirited response. The Hamiltons all started talking at once.
‘It’s Shane! He had this dream and now he thinks his brother’s an angel …’
‘It wasn’t a dream! I tell you he really …’
‘I was shaving and I went in to tell Shane …’
Dr Pratt waved her arms about vigorously. ‘Hold it! Hold it! Everyone stop! Calm down please. I can’t understand any of you.’
Pushing chairs towards her desk, Dr Pratt invited the Hamiltons to sit down. Obviously Shane had had another dream about David.
Jenny sat quiet and tense as Rob explained the morning’s events as calmly as he could. Shane watched carefully for Dr Pratt’s reaction. The concerned frowns that crossed her brow from time to time were signs that she felt the situation was serious.
When Rob had finished she turned her attention to Shane, occasionally glancing back at his father’s half beard. Her voice was soft and sympathetic. ‘Now then, Shane, let’s talk about what happened last night.’ Dr Pratt took a pen in her hand and began rolling it in her fingers. ‘Just take your time. There’s no need to rush or panic.’
Shane squirmed uneasily in his chair. He could back out now if he wanted to. He could change his story, say it was just a dream, that he’d been confused and not fully awake. But he’d made a promise to David and he had to keep it. If he told Dr Pratt it was just a dream, then his parents would never believe him. He had to be strong, for David. He looked Dr Pratt right in the eye. ‘I saw David last night,’ he said, kicking his dangling legs.
‘You mean you had a dream about David,’ smiled Dr Pratt.
‘No, it wasn’t a dream.’
‘If it wasn’t a dream then what was it?’
‘It was David. He’s an angel now, a real angel, not with wings and haloes and things. That’s not how they are.’
Dr Pratt made notes as she listened. ‘How do you know he was real?’
Shane was feeling nervous but by taking deep breaths and thinking of David floating around his room, he continued his story. The more he talked the more excited he became. He talked louder and faster. The faster he talked the faster Dr Pratt wrote.
‘He flew, he glowed, he isn’t sick any more, he looks fantastic! I can’t wait for him to come again!’
Dr Pratt raised her eyebrows, lowered her head and peered at Shane over the sparkling rims of her glasses. ‘When do you think he’ll be back?’
‘Tonight.’
‘What do you think he’ll do with you this time?’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Shane thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know if angels can play basketball. He’d be fantastic, I reckon. Imagine the slam dunks he could do!’
Shane’s imagination was spinning with ideas about what he and David could do together. ‘I could take him to school. He could read the teacher’s mind and tell me all the answers to hard questions and I’d be one of the smart kids. Wicked!’
Shane looked at the ceiling dreamily. ‘He might even be able to help me fix those Baker boys; they’re always bullying me. He could do some of his tricks and tease them like they’re always teasing me.’ He looked back at Dr Pratt. ‘I reckon it’s going to be great having an angel as a brother, don’t you?’
Dr Pratt nodded. ‘I suppose it would be,’ she said softly, scribbling something else down.
In the few seconds of silence that followed, Shane felt the uneasiness of the adults around him. The sound of Dr Pratt’s
pen scratching away on the paper was only interrupted by the clicking coming from Jenny as she nibbled her fingernails.
Dr Pratt put her pen down. ‘Shane, why don’t you go out and ask Mrs Birch for a game on the computer?’
Mrs Birch was her secretary. She was a large round-faced woman who laughed a lot and was good at computer games. Shane played with her whenever Dr Pratt wanted to talk to his parents. He hardly ever beat her, though. She must have practised when Dr Pratt wasn’t very busy. Maybe they played together.
So Shane and Mrs Birch played basketball while Dr Pratt spoke to his parents.
Shane squealed with delight as he scored the first points of the game from outside the three point line. Mrs Birch squeezed her tongue determinedly from the side of her mouth as she moved into attack.
Shane’s mother and father were holding hands as they sat and talked with Dr Pratt. Tightly.
‘What can we do to help him?’ asked Rob, pulling at what was left of his beard.
Dr Pratt brushed her hand under her chin thoughtfully. ‘Well,’ she sighed. ‘I think you need to take a holiday, Mr Hamilton. Take Shane away from home for a while. Take him away from his room where this dream took place. I think it will help him and, no doubt, help you as well.’
Jenny took her fist from her mouth. ‘They seem to be getting stronger, these dreams. I thought they’d fade in time.’
Dr Pratt leant back in her chair. ‘You’re right. This was a strong dream and it’s very unusual for Shane not to realise that it was one.’
Shane’s voice suddenly echoed through Jenny’s mind. ‘It wasn’t a dream! Honest!’ A tiny spark of thought twinkled in the far corners of her mind. How wonderful it would be if it were true — if her David was an angel.
She played with the idea all the way home. It made her feel warm, relaxed and even amused. She was beginning to understand why Shane wanted so much to hang onto this dream. It took away all the other feelings: the sadness, and the loss, particularly.
So she quite enjoyed the journey and when they arrived home it was almost time for lunch. Shane didn’t have to get ready for school because it was decided (much to his delight) that a day off was in order.
Rob had already let his office know he wouldn’t be in and it was Jenny’s day off anyway, so the Hamilton family were spending the day together.
‘Let’s plan our holiday,’ said Rob, after he’d finished his shave.
‘What holiday?’ frowned Shane.
‘Dr Pratt thought we all needed a holiday, so we’re taking one.’
‘How long are we going for?’ asked Shane, hoping for a year or two away from school.
‘A couple of weeks,’ smiled Jenny.
‘Hang on,’ said Shane suddenly. ‘What about Webster? Who’s going to look after him?’
‘We thought we’d get Aunt Sue to come over and look after things while we’re gone,’ said Rob.
‘Great, but she’ll have to sleep in my room because Webster doesn’t like being left alone in an empty room in the dark. He hated being in David’s room on his own.’
Rob smiled confidently. ‘I’m sure she’d love to sleep in your room with Webster,’ he said.
Shane curled his hand into the biscuit jar and pulled out four chocolate biscuits. He put three in his dressing gown pockets and one in his mouth. ‘Where are we going?’ he asked in a voice muffled by chewing.
Rob was thumbing through his giant road atlas, the one Shane and David had given him one Father’s Day. ‘I think the snowfields would be fun. What about you?’
Shane and David had always wanted to go to the snow. It looked like great fun and skiing looked so easy they knew they’d be able to do it. They’d planned to go once before, but didn’t get there. David got sick.
Shane immediately imagined himself flying down the slopes. ‘Yeah!’ he cried. ‘Let’s give it a go!’ He turned to his mother, waiting for her to cast the final vote.
She looked at Shane and could almost hear him pleading with her to agree. The look on his face said it all. She smiled. ‘Okay,’ she nodded, ‘the snow it is.’
‘Yes!’ hissed Shane, jumping into the air. ‘I can’t wait to tell David! He’ll flip!’
Rob and Jenny looked at each other and immediately started making plans.
The Long Night
It was late evening, Shane was sitting on his basketball on the front lawn and watching the sky. He was fidgeting impatiently with his hair.
It had taken a long time for the sun to set. Shane had watched it moving slowly through a scratchy spattering of clouds. It coloured them orange, red, pink as it slid behind them then beneath them. It was a fabulous show, but Shane wasn’t interested. He only wanted it to go away. He wanted the sky to be black, he wanted darkness, night-time, bedtime. He wanted to see David again. He couldn’t wait! He screwed his cap around so that the peak touched his back and watched the streetlights flicker on. The street was grey and the night air cool: he wouldn’t have long to wait now. He stood up, scooped his ball into his hands and, thumping it hard onto the concrete path, bounced inside.
The sound of the front door brought an instant response from his mother. Her voice echoed from the dining room. ‘Come on, Shane. Your tea’s ready.’
‘What is it?’ asked Shane, rolling his basketball across the lounge room floor. There was a gap between the wall and one of the lounge chairs that was just large enough for the ball to fit in. It was a challenge to Shane’s skill. He tried to roll it into the gap without hitting anything. His effort on this particular occasion was a poor one. He tipped his head, willing the ball to change direction, but it didn’t and it thumped into the wall.
His father was setting the table. ‘Must you do that inside?’ he said, frowning.
Shane didn’t answer. ‘What’s for tea?’ he asked, dumping himself at the table.
‘Chicken.’
‘What sort of chicken?’
Shane’s father pointed to his head. ‘Hat off, mate. Roast chicken.’
Shane took off his cap and spun it like a frisbee towards the empty chair in the corner — David’s chair. He picked up his knife and fork. ‘Is it ready yet? I’m starving!’
Shane’s father padded off towards the kitchen and reappeared a moment later with the dinner. Shane scoffed it down in almost record time, much to the dismay of his parents.
‘Slow down! Slow down!’ they kept telling him. ‘You’re eating as if you haven’t been fed for a month.’
He gobbled up his apple pie and ice-cream in the same way. When he’d finished he looked at his mum and dad and, burping quietly, stood to leave.
‘Where are you going, Shane?’ asked his mother calmly.
‘I’m going to bed.’
Shane’s father looked at him curiously and said, ‘But it’s not time for you to go to bed yet. You can stay up for another hour or more. You know that.’
‘But I want to go to bed.’
‘Why? Aren’t you well?’ his mother frowned.
‘No, I’m fine.’
Shane’s father twisted on his seat to face Shane. ‘Then why do you want to go to bed?’
Shane paused and looked at them — first his father, then his mother. ‘I want to see David. He’ll be back tonight and I want to tell him we’re going skiing.’
His mother let out a soft, sorrowful sigh.
His father stayed calm. ‘You mean you might have another dream about David.’
‘No, you know what I mean, Dad. I’ll be able to convince you tomorrow. David’ll probably have an idea about how to help me show you that he really is an angel. Angels must have lots of tricks up their sleeves, don’t you think?’
His father wasn’t quite sure what to say. So he just nodded. ‘Hmm.’
Shane pushed his chair in. ‘Can I leave the table please?’
His father sighed. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘I can’t wait to tell David we’re going to the snow. He’ll go ape!’
Shane wandered off humm
ing, leaving his worried parents to their tea. But they weren’t hungry any more.
‘What are we going to do if he doesn’t snap out of this?’ moaned Jenny. ‘What if he starts telling other people? What’ll they think?’
Rob reached over and took her firmly by the hand. ‘Don’t worry, everything’ll be fine. The holiday will help, okay? He just needs to get out of the house for a while. There’s too much here to remind him of David. He’s just like us, that’s all. He wants David to be here. He wants him to come back. You can understand that.’
Jenny nodded. ‘Of course I can.’
Shane was in his room flipping through magazines when Jenny went up to check on him a few minutes later. She sat on his bed. ‘What are you looking for, Shane?’
‘Snow pictures. I want to show David what we’ll be doing.’ He held up some pictures he’d already found. He had a giant snowman, a ski jump champion flying through the air and a photograph of Mount Everest. He grinned smugly. ‘David’ll be jealous, won’t he Mum?’
‘Yes I suppose he would be,’ she said quietly. ‘But he’s not here any more, Shane. He’s gone; he’ll never know.’ She waited anxiously for response. She wanted him to turn and say, ‘Yeah, you’re right, Mum. I know. I just like to dream.’ But he didn’t.
‘It’s okay, Mum. I’ll tell him tonight. He’ll know all right. Boy will he flip!’
Jenny leant over and wrapped her arms around him. ‘Don’t worry. Everything will be okay. The holiday will help you see things more clearly.’
Shane patted her back. ‘Oh I’m not worried. I’m okay. I know you think I’m crazy, but one day you’ll know I’m telling you the truth.’ He gently released himself from his mother’s embrace and looked her straight in the eye. ‘It is true, Mum. It wasn’t a dream.’
Jenny kissed his forehead. ‘All right, we won’t talk about it any more just now. Relax and try to get some sleep. I’ll check you later.’
Shane went back to flipping through his magazines and Jenny went back to worrying about his sanity. He collected quite a few pictures and arranged them in a display all over his bedroom floor. It wouldn’t matter where David landed when he arrived he would have to see at least one of them. Then he would notice others and no doubt ask him why they were there. Then he could tell David, casually, calmly, matter-of-factly, ‘Oh those things! Just some pictures we collected. We thought they’d help us prepare for our holiday in the snow. You know, the one we’re going on next week.’ Then David would flip. He’d go off the deep end.
Angel Page 3
