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Bird Song (Grace Series)

Page 7

by S. L. Naeole


  As I walked past them, the crunch of my sneakers against the gravel triggered the sharp memories of slamming into them to flash into my mind. I flinched at each sickening crunch, the sounds reminding me of the pain that had been inflicted on me by a jealous and ambitious angel—everything angels weren’t supposed to be. I quickened my pace, desiring only to plant my feet on solid pavement for the long walk home.

  By the time I reached the road, I could feel the sweat forming on my brow. “Some New Year,” I snorted. At least last year, I was in the comfort of my own home, drinking flat soda and eating stale cheese balls from Christmas.

  The wind was picking up and freezing the moisture that had started to pool on my face. I was going to catch one hell of a cold after tonight if I didn’t freeze to death before I got home. I looked up into the sky to see how long the weather was going to hold up. I couldn’t see the stars anymore.

  “Just keep walking,” I told myself, repeating it every ten paces or so, needing the sound, needing the reminder as each minute that dragged on left me feeling more and more exhausted. The cold was draining me of what little energy I had left.

  Finally, I succumbed to the numbness in my feet and sank to the ground on the side of the road. My sweat and the cold had plastered my shirt to my skin, freezing it in place; the fact that I could no longer feel my toes moving was a very bad omen, and I silently cursed myself for not being better prepared…and thankful that I had not worn the dress after all.

  “I’m going to kill you, Robert,” I breathed before the shivering that started to creep up from my knees finally overtook my mouth, my teeth chattering like a hyperactive typewriter.

  “Don’t sleep, don’t sleep, don’t sleep,” I chanted to myself. Robert was on his way—he had to be—and he’d find me. But if I froze to death, there wasn’t going to be anything that he could do about it, and there was no way I’d let him off the hook for standing me up that easily.

  I tucked my stiff legs up to my chest, and wrapped my arms around them, rocking to keep my body in motion. I tried to think of a song I could sing to keep my mind from drifting off, pulling my consciousness with it, but the cold was dimming my thoughts to everything.

  “H-how l-l-ou-ousy t-to d-die f-f-from e-exp-p-p-posure, a-after s-su-survi-ving b-being h-h-hit b-by a c-c-car a-an-and s-st-stran-g-g-gled b-b-by a-a-an a-angel,” I stuttered, each syllable wracking my body with violent shaking.

  I knew I was hallucinating when the numbness turned into fierce pain in my hands and my feet. The cold was supposed to lull you to sleep, the numbness was supposed to be a soft lullaby that rocks you gently towards a frozen death. The pain—that’s a sick joke on the part of your mind, I had deduced, and when it finally started to abate, I relaxed and welcomed whatever came next.

  How could you give up on me so easily?

  Definitely hallucinating.

  You’re not hallucinating, Grace. Open your eyes, please.

  I shook my head. I didn’t want to, didn’t think I could.

  I am such a terrible boyfriend. All of the powers I have, and you still end up with your life in danger.

  I nodded my head this time, “A-a-and you always e-e-end up sa-saving me in the end. I-I think you d-d-do it on p-p-pu-purpose to keep things exciting—t-t-to m-muh-make yourself out to b-b-be the he-hero.”

  I felt his body stiffen, even as the warmth spread through me and the ebbing pain turned into intense tingling through my fingers and toes. “Oh dear bananas,” I groaned as the sensation started to creep up my limbs, causing them to jerk around like suffocating fish on land.

  I’m sorry, Grace. I didn’t expect to take this long, and you almost…this shouldn’t have happened.

  I grunted in agreement. It shouldn’t have happened, but it did. “You came, and I’m okay—I am okay, aren’t I?” I waited for his nod before I continued, “Well, I’m okay, and you can now make up for being late.”

  It’s a good thing that my legs were no longer numb, because I felt the ground coming a lot sooner than I had expected when Robert set me down with a roughness that I hadn’t thought him capable of…not with me, at least.

  “Why aren’t you angry? Do you value yourself so little that you’d simply be okay with nearly freezing to death just because I’m the one who let it happen?”

  I finally had the courage to look up into his face, and what I saw there was like staring into a block of ice; his eyes were flat and cold, colder than I had ever seen them before, and I felt the shiver run straight through me. He was angry.

  “I was angry, but I’m not anymore. It’s not like you did it on purpose. This is a part of who you are. I accept that part of you; I accept the risk and the consequences because loving you is worth it to me. Why are you so angry?”

  He stalked away from me; I saw then that his wings were out, and I couldn’t help but draw in a breath as I marveled at their delicate and yet powerful beauty. He was putting out a deep, red glow as his wings shook with his frustration at something I could not touch on. I reached my hand out to him, but he flinched away without even turning around to see me approach.

  “This wouldn’t happen if you would agree to being changed.”

  My hand dropped to my side, my mouth hung open in surprise, and my eyes grew wide with shock. He was angry at me because I had turned down his offer to change me?

  “Are you serious? You left me here waiting—nearly freezing to death in the process—and you’re upset because I want to remain human? That’s what’s bothering you?” My mind raced through all of the different reasons why he’d be so angry, but there was nothing I could come up with. This was all too ridiculous for it to make sense. Unless…

  “Did you leave me here on purpose? To prove a point?”

  He whipped around to face me, his eyes wide with shock, and the grim line on his face replaced with a snarl. “How could you think that I’d intentionally cause you harm?”

  I shrugged my shoulders, trying my best not to show my fear and guilt at his reaction or my accusation. “What else am I supposed to think? I mean, you even told me to wear the green dress! If I had, I would have been frozen to death by the time you got here, Robert.”

  Robert shook his head. “I would have felt it coming.”

  “Felt what?”

  His eyes grew sad as he turned away before finally answering, his voice soft with sadness. “I would have felt you dying.”

  “Oh.” I kicked a rock that sat next to my sneaker and watched it fly out into the road. “Well, isn’t that what you’re supposed to feel? You are Death, after all.”

  I saw his head shake, and his thoughts came into my head. He didn’t want to talk anymore.

  You’re a part of me, Grace; I told you. When you’re in pain, I am as well. When others are dying, I hear the call in my mind; but…when you’re close to death…it feels like something is being torn out from inside of me. You told me that your heart was mine. You don’t know how right you were when you said that.

  I felt ashamed when he turned to look at me again and there were crystal tears pooled in his eyes. Death was always on his mind, but mine was tugging at his heart, just as he being away from me tugged at mine. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did. You wouldn’t knowingly put me in danger, for any reason, and I should have known better.”

  He smiled for me, a genuine, brilliant, and beautiful smile, and I felt the residual chill leave my body as he reached his hand out to me. I took it—grabbed for it and clutched it for dear life is more like it—and allowed him to pull me into the shelter of his arms as the flutter of snow that had begun falling all around us when our argument began started to literally dump down on us.

  And then we were up in the air, sailing back towards the gazebo. It was covered in snow and debris now, the railings bearing huge icicles that had not been there when I left. “Why did you bring me back here?” I asked, the location not holding as much interest for me as it had a few hours ago.

  I had the whole thing pla
nned, an event all set up and everything was pushed back, but I still want to get to the most important part.

  I looked at him with a plainly confused expression on my face. What was so important that he couldn’t have waited until we were someplace warm…and dry?

  I watched, amused as kicked aside snow and leaves to clear a spot for whatever it was that he had planned. I folded my arms across my chest, the loss of his body pulling away my only source of warmth.

  “Okay, I want to do this properly, so please bear with me,” Robert said with a grin on his face, and I watched in absolute horror as he knelt down in the small circle that he had cleared in front of me.

  “Oh goodness, no, Robert. Please don’t do what I think you’re going to do,” I spit out quickly, hoping the words didn’t jumble themselves together with the speed I had uttered them, the sound of Janice’s voice droning away in the back of my head.

  He waved my plea off with his hand, and then grabbed one of mine. “Grace Anne Shelley, I should have done this first. I didn’t, and that speaks of poor manners that I assure you my mother has already chastised me for several times.

  “It’s probably redundant, but this has to be done right so that you know that my feelings for you are nothing if not genuine. I wanted to ask you if you’d allow me the privilege of courting you.”

  “I-” I was at a loss for words. This was unexpected. I had overreacted. And he knew it, too. He was enjoying my discomfort and embarrassment, but more than that, he was worried that I’d say no. I could see it in his eyes. He was afraid that after tonight, I might not want to continue our relationship.

  I simply nodded my head, words failing me as I was overcome with emotion. He pulled me back into his arms and chuckled. “You’re silly,” he sighed as he kissed the top of my head.

  I giggled. “I’m also freakishly abnormal. Every girl in Heath would give their right eye to have you get on one knee and propose to them, but not me. No, instead I freak out.”

  I felt him shake his head, and he pulled me away from him so he could look into my face as he spoke. “Grace, you’re not abnormal, but you’re not normal either. What you are is extraordinary.”

  I couldn’t help but grin when he said that. Who else had ever called me extraordinary? “Can I ask you why you needed to ask me? I mean, I thought it was a given that we were dating. Why the need for such formality?”

  He brought the hand that he was still holding to his lips, and kissed my fingertips, smiling as he did so. “I did so many things wrong when it came to you. I thought that if we started the year in the same vein, things would just become more difficult.”

  The tingling sensation that slowly crept up my arm, easing its way towards my heart, and kick-starting it into overdrive left very little room for coherent thoughts. I watched as he continued to kiss the tips of my fingers, the heat coursing in my veins hot enough to melt the snow around me, I was certain of it.

  “I should get you home,” he laughed as he took notice of my heavy breathing, and scooped me up into his arms. I locked my fingers behind his head and brought my face up to his, hoping, praying that for just this once, he wouldn’t reject my kiss.

  He didn’t.

  MISS MARJORIE MAY MULLIGAN

  It wasn’t until I was safely in my bed, tucked against Robert’s chest, my feet smothered by my comforter, that Robert explained what had kept him away for so long. He had never talked about whose deaths required his personal attention before, and so I knew that whoever it was that left this world this evening was someone of great significance. Significant enough for him to tell me, anyway.

  I don’t want you to hate me, Grace, he had begun, his face searching mine for any sign of rejection.

  I grabbed a hold of his face and stared into his eyes as deeply as any human possibly could. “I cannot hate you, Robert. I love you. You can tell me anything.”

  I know. I just needed some reassurance, I suppose. Tonight I helped the librarian you had worked with to cross over.

  I hadn’t expected the sob that spilled out of me, but when it came, I didn’t try to hold it back either. “Miss Maggie? Oh no, what happened?”

  Robert took my hand in his and weaved his fingers between mine. She had cancer. She’s been bedridden for months now, Grace. I thought you knew.

  I shook my head, because obviously I had no idea. “I don’t understand. She seemed healthy the last time I saw her.”

  Robert’s eyes narrowed as he thought over my last statement. Grace, you didn’t hear me. She’s been bedridden for months. You couldn’t have seen her.

  I sat up, the thought that he was questioning what it was that I had seen not sitting well with me. “I worked with her all summer, Robert. I saw her just a few weeks ago. She was perfectly fine.”

  Robert lifted his body towards mine and pressed his forehead against my own. I could feel him searching in my mind for the memories that I knew were there, and when he found them, it was though I could feel his disbelief.

  I don’t understand it. Your mind is clear of any deceit, but I also know what I saw in her mind. She’s been unable to leave her bed since the end of May. There’s no logical explanation for this.

  The fact that Robert was stumped was enough to send the fear rippling down my back. “What do you mean, there’s no logical explanation for this?”

  What you saw was a very real person, Grace. You really saw Miss Maggie. The imprinted memory doesn’t lie, but her memory, though foggy from pain and medication was just as clear. Perhaps what you saw was an astral projection, and she just had no recollection of it. The pain medication can do that to the human mind.

  I looked at him, confused, skeptical, and still fearful. “Astral projection? Does that even exist?”

  Robert pointed to his face and allowed a half-smile to breach the hard planes of his face. Did you think my kind existed before you met me? When I shook my head, his half-smile returned to a grim line. Astral projection is real, although very rare. But that wouldn’t explain what your mind saw. Astral projections are not material. They cannot hold onto physical objects, let alone replace them onto bookshelves.

  “Could it be that I imagined it all?” I asked, suddenly doubting my own mind.

  No. I don’t think so. Your memories have incredible clarity, it’s almost like looking at my own.

  “So how could I have seen her without her being there?” I demanded to know, the idea that perhaps I was going slightly crazy starting to sound much more plausible than that little old lady using astral projection to return books back to their places as defined by the Dewey Decimal System.

  Robert had no answer for me, and that did nothing to ease my mind. Would you at least like to know a little bit about who she was? It’s a fascinating history.

  Knowing that he was trying to change the subject, and appreciating it, I nodded. He pulled my head back onto his chest, and laid down, his free hand rubbing my back as he began to tell me about the tiny, yet spunky librarian.

  You knew her as Miss Maggie. Her full name was Marjorie May Mulligan. She was the eighth of ten children, and the only one to survive past childhood. It’s the reason why she never had any children. Did you know that?

  I shook my head. There was a lot that I didn’t know about Miss Maggie, apparently.

  She didn’t want to have any children, and so she never married. It was very difficult for her parents to accept, of course, but she didn’t care. She went to school to become a teacher, and eventually a librarian. She traveled all over the world, teaching children to read, and she met some of the most incredible people I have ever been witness to see. Some people only ever get to see the dark side of humanity, but she was blessed with the side of humanity that gives my kind hope.

  But Maggie wasn’t content to travel, no matter how many people she met, how many new experiences she encountered. Her first love was working with children. She wrote several children’s books, and she helped spearhead the construction of that little library with the money she e
arned from them. When her parents died, she used the money she received in inheritance towards the library. She put almost every single dime she ever had into that library.

  “Why?”

  Because there was a need. She just didn’t know what kind of need she was filling until you came along. Do you remember the first time you went into that library?

  I nodded my head. “It was a few months after mom died.”

  His chest raised and then lowered significantly as he let out a long sigh. Maggie was very taken with you. You reminded her a lot of herself. She saw you, all alone in a world full of people, and she knew that you were in need of something.

  I smiled as I remembered what that something was. “She gave me a little book filled with Irish folk tales.”

  Robert’s body shook as a memory instigated a round of silent laughter. Yes. It included a tale of Kelpies, if I’m not mistaken.

  I giggled as I realized what it was that had made him laugh. “Well, I told you that I was well read.”

  I realize that. I made sure to thank her for helping you along in that, just so you know.

  I lifted my head to kiss his chin, and thanked him silently. He gently nudged my head back down, and rested his cheek against my hair as he continued. She watched you grow up, alone except for Graham, and she worried about you. She prayed for you, prayed that one day God would come and help you see just how special you truly are.

  She told me that you coming to the library, your sweet spirit and love of books, your kind heart…all of that gave her reason to keep going to work every day, even after all of the other kids stopped coming, after the donations stopped coming in, and the new library opened up.

  The mention of the donations stopping caught me off guard. “Miss Maggie told me that she had regular donors—she said that the library was doing well. I don’t get it. Why would she tell me that if there were no donations coming in?”

  She told you that so you’d work for her, Grace. She paid you herself. She viewed you as her own, personal angel, who saved her from the cost of her mistake of not having a family.

 

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