by Lissa Bilyk
***
You’d already been drinking a bit by the time I found you at the party. I told you I couldn’t see you anymore, remember? And you said, “Well we’re not technically ‘seeing’ each other, Loren.”
“I mean it. I can’t. I’m sorry.”
You drank a bit before asking, “Can you tell me why?” and I confessed, “You wouldn’t believe me.”
You settled back on the sofa. “Try me.”
So I told you about Justice. And you laughed at me. At me! I felt so angry and afraid. I had put my trust in you, and you had thrown it back in my face. I know you were drunk, and I probably shouldn’t have told you at all, but I felt you had a right to know.
“Shut up, Martin, I am not crazy! I fly with him in my dreams. I’ve seen him. God, I’ve nearly touched him! I’ve felt the breeze from his wings as he passes me, Martin, I’m not mad!”
I knew you were thinking, Yes, you are mad. So I tried to convince you again.
“There’s something about him,” I continued, quieter now. “There’s something about his eyes, there’s a terrible sadness in them, and he looks so adoringly at me. He has the most beautiful voice. He’s truly magical, Martin, and he scares me.”
“Loren, I think I’m drunk anyway, so pay no attention.”
“But you believe me?” I asked desperately.
“Yeah, OK, I believe you about your angel. Say, can I meet him?” You stood up and swayed slightly before staggering outside.
But I know you didn’t believe me. I hope this letter will convince you otherwise.
As I pause to reflect on what I’ve written I can remember the fight really clearly. I got up from the sofa and made to leave when I realised there was some sort of argument outside. I moved to the window and saw you and another guy I didn’t know squabbling about something or other. He grabbed your shirt as the squabble turned into a dispute. You dropped your bottle and it broke, spilling what little was left of your beer onto the concrete. I noticed he had a wet stain on the front of his shirt. It looked like you had bumped into him and spilt his drink. The dispute heated up as you shoved the man away. People were starting to take notice. Suddenly he leapt at you and propelled you into, and through the window. Into and through being one movement. And the window was closed.
I screamed and backed away. He was pummelling your head. You jerked and threw him off as some people tripped inside to help or hinder the struggle.
Do your remember me shrieking, “Martin, stop!” as you leapt to continue the fight? I barely remember it myself. I wonder if I even said it. You landed on the guy and punched his head, but he was bigger than you and rolled over, pinning you beneath him. I ran forward and started beating him with my hands as the others moved in. He stood up rammed me away against the wall. Then he turned back to you, dragged you to your feet and threw you back out the window.
“Martin!”
The fighter turned to me and I saw you lying in a bundled heap outside with partygoers crowded around you. The guys inside moved to restrain the thug but he approached me instead.
JUSTICE
I couldn’t just sit and watch, I had to get her out of there. I broke probably just about every rule but I couldn’t just stand there and watch her get hurt by the same guy who bashed up the musician.
I didn’t mean for anyone to see me.
It’s just that as soon as I touched her, I was visible.
The big thug that had started the fight approached her like he was ready to hurt her. Hurt my Loren? Not if I could help it.
I shimmied into the mortal dimension but just as my hands made contact with her delicate shoulders the invisibility simply evaporated. The look of amazement as someone with white wings appeared out of nowhere was amusing in itself but I didn’t have time to enjoy the spectacle. I grabbed Loren – a little rougher than I intended – and shimmied into my Sanctuary.
She was shaking, shivering. I embraced her but she was in a state of shock. Only a select few have made physical contact with an angel and lived to tell of it.
When I died, my own guardian angel Peter appeared to escort me to my Sanctuary. When he made contact with my skin I felt myself floating, and it was my spirit that went with him, leaving my battered, bruised and broken body in a twisted pile of hot metal and spinning wheels, leaving behind my brother who would survive the crash but never make see me again.
When Peter made contact with me, I felt euphoria. I felt as though I was free of the shackles that had held my mortal life in check. I felt as though I could fly, I could do anything, it was such a pure feeling that it took my breath away and if blood still pulsed in my veins I believe it would have been racing and adrenalin would have been flooding my system… it was such a sublime experience but it left me feeling drained and, pardon the pun, lifeless.
I suppose with what she had just gone through, and also that fact that I hadn’t approached to escort her spirit to her Sanctuary but to transport her entire body to my own, that her body needed rest. She fainted in my arms.
How I longed to stroke that beautiful face, to touch the tender curls cascading around her cheek, to stroke her lips and smooth her creased brow. But I knew I shouldn’t be touching her at all. That’s the whole point of us guardians: we don’t come into contact with our charges. Guardians just watch over and safeguard our charges, we provide protective supervision. Sometimes we can help them avoid injury: I pride myself in saying Loren has never been seriously injured. I know I was breaking some rules in doing that but no harm came, only good. Sometimes I would pass by her. I would watch the confused expression on her young face as she tried to work out where that sudden slight breeze had come from. I guess it was weak of me: I wanted to be acknowledged, even if she didn’t know she was doing it.
As she rested, curled up like a child, I wandered around the trees and flowers and saw everything was blossoming as it should be.
Such perfection would never be seen in the mortal world. No one would ever see such things. Even in her dreams the garden was a little cloudy, a little out of focus.
Her dreams…
I settled next to her and took her hand, closing my eyes and slipping into her own subconscious. Already she was dreaming – I felt my heart skip a little as my excitement grew. I pushed myself into her dream and found myself back at the party. I wandered through the hallway. Where was she? Why wasn’t she waiting for me?
Loren?
No answer.
Where are you? I can’t see you.
No one answered. Fair enough, it was her own dream, but I expected her sweet, clear voice to call out to me as it had always done. When it didn’t I began to wonder if she was dreaming of someone else… like that musician…
I walked a bit faster. Suddenly I saw him. He was leaning into someone, pushing her into the corner of the room.
I had a sudden bad feeling.
Loren?
The musician turned around. I saw Loren stare at me, looking slightly confused. Justice? What are you doing here?
I had gone rigid. Loren, what are you doing with him?
Who is this? the young man demanded.
What are you doing here? she repeated.
I stared at her, disbelieving. She gave me an irritated look.
I came to find you, I said. I thought I would find you alone, waiting for me… but instead I had found her in the arms of the jazz player.
She laughed. This is a dream, Justice. You always appear in my dreams.
Yes, it’s a dream, I agreed, but it’s not one I’m controlling. This is all you. Suddenly I felt rage exploding inside me. This is all you! This is all your own thoughts! I can see them. Aren’t you happy with me? Do you need this young suitor? What can he offer you! He can’t offer you anything, he’s a drunken idiot, he can’t protect you, but I can offer you the world of protection and all of my love! He doesn’t love you, I love you! You stupid little girl, can’t you see I’ve loved you your whole life? And this schoolboy comes along and just takes you
r heart from me, you belong to me, you’re mine, Loren, you always have been!
I backed out of her dream. The last I saw of her was a confused, almost pained look: her eyes creased, her perfect mouth turned down at the corners. Looking down on her sleeping form I felt overwhelmed with love, and an insane hatred of that pathetic little boy. He made me livid!
I yanked my hand out from Loren’s and stood up. The sudden movement caused her to wake up. Her soft hazel eyes blinked at me.
“Justice, I just had a dream… was it really you?”
I stared bitterly down at her. “Yes.” I turned away and prepared to shimmy into the mortal realm.
“Justice, wait!”
I felt her hand on my leg. I looked down as she scrambled to her feet.
“That dream couldn’t have been what I really, truly feel because I don’t love Martin!”
“Well, obviously you think a lot about him, hey, or otherwise how do you describe your dream of kissing him?” She shrank back from my yelling.
“I don’t love him! I don’t know why, but every time I’ve felt myself get close to any one I end up broken hearted because they don’t want me! Martin doesn’t want me, for crying out loud, Justice, I’m nineteen years old and I’ve never even had a boyfriend!”
“I know,” I said impatiently.
“No one wants me. I’ve done all I can to get a boyfriend but no one’s interested. I don’t know what’s wrong with me… aren’t I pretty enough?”
I felt awful. I had wrapped her in my spell and had not let go. She was convinced no one loved her when I had all along, and had kept others from her in the hope she might one day return my affections.
“Loren,” I said softly, “you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. But it’s not looks alone that attract a mate.” Why was I saying this? Stop it, Justice! But I couldn’t. “You also have the sweetest nature of any human I have ever known. It’s not your fault you’ve never been kissed. It’s mine.”
She kicked at the grass dejectedly. “How can it be your fault?”
“I’ve kept them away from you. Your own part of the dream may not have been true, but what I said was.”
She looked at me, bewildered. “Justice, you can’t love me. You’re an angel.”
I bowed my head. “I love you, Loren.”
“No, you can’t love me! We’re incompatible. We have no future together.”
There was a small silence between us. I felt my rage grow out of control. She didn’t want to be with me: she wanted to be with that boorish, dense, weaselly excuse of a musician!
LOREN
Before the fighter could get close to me Justice had appeared and whisked me off to Eden. I wanted to stay, to make sure you got an ambulance, but he touched me and suddenly I couldn’t do anything. It was like I was paralysed but the most beautiful intense feeling blossomed over my body, and I felt as though I was floating: it was the strangest feeling: but not entirely unfamiliar.
When we got to the garden, I passed out, and experienced a dream where I was with you, and Justice got so furious about that. When I woke he was looking filthy mad, murder intent in his beautiful eyes. He left, and I assumed it was to kill you. He was so wild; I knew I had to stop him. I hadn’t controlled the dream, Martin, I don’t love you, and I’ve no idea why I dreamed it. That is one thing I cannot explain.
You may never understand, but I had to stop Justice before he did something terrible. I hope this letter has explained a lot. I cannot tell you where I have gone, but I am safe.
There is always someone watching over you,
Loren
JUSTICE
It wasn’t hard to find the musician. By the time I got back to the party the police were outside and an ambulance was just pulling away. I knew he would be inside.
At the hospital the doctors attended him for wounds to the head. There was no internal damage. What a pity. I could soon fix that.
I stood there watching him for a while, invisible of course. I pondered on how I would kill him. Perhaps strike him with some solid instrument? Give him an overdose of a drug? Or kill him the same way I had died, a snapped neck?
My fingers reached greedily for his throat when I heard her voice. “Justice, don’t hurt him.”
I spun. “Loren! How did you…” my voice trailed off as I realised she was different. Her soft, coiled, brown hair hung down far longer than it should have, down to her hips. Her gentle eyes were now intense, shining orbs. A flowing white gown set off her slim body. But that was nothing compared to the wings…
I was speechless.
She smiled gently at me. “I suppose I should have told you a long time ago. I considered it when you first came to me in my dreams, and again when you appeared before me. But I knew I was not to.”
I took a step back. This couldn’t be true.
“But now everything has gone too far: you have to know the truth.” She took my hand. A jolt of electric energy jumped between us. “Justice, I’m your training charge. When a fledgling first gets his or her wings, they are assigned a practice charge. It is all secret, of course. First-time angels aren’t fully stripped of emotions, and the human behaviour that caused you to interfere with my life.”
“But that’s impossible!” I spluttered. “You should have been born when I died.”
There was a great sadness in her eyes. “I am older than you realise, Justice. I have had three full-life charges. By explanation let’s say I have been promoted to a training charge. When my fledgling fails, I’m granted ‘retirement.’ Oh, don’t be offended by the ‘failing’. It can mean I die any way, natural or not, suicide or old age.”
I looked at the ground. “So why did you expose yourself to me?”
She smiled sadly. “Martin was the son of my last charge. He died the same time you did… he was driving the car that killed you.”
I stared at her. She said, “I know he’s got his own angel, but I wanted to keep watching him, for his father… yet you got jealous when you thought I was in love with him.”
“So why all those games? Why make it seem like you loved him? You broke my heart.”
“Being back in a human body was hard for me. I felt all the things a normal teenager feels. I even think I fell a little in love with you.”
“…Me?”
“Yes.” She took both my hands in hers. “Come back to Eden. Come back to me. Consider this your early retirement.”
I raised my eyes to her beautiful face. She really was an angel, and she didn’t love Martin, she loved me…
She slipped a tightly folded piece of paper from her sleeve into Martin’s still hand, and blew a kiss to him. Then, taking my trembling hands in hers, smiled a delicate smile.
In an instant, it was as if we had never been there…
