Halo (10 page)

“I’ll be fine in a minute.”

“No, you won’t. You’re shaking.”

I realized with some surprise that he was right. Xavier went back inside for his jacket, which he placed around my shoulders. It smelled of him and was comforting.

Molly stumbled her way over to us.

“How’s it going?” she said, too cheerful to be bothered by Xavier’s presence.

“What was Beth drinking?” he demanded.

“Just a cocktail,” Molly replied. “Mostly vodka. Aren’t you feeling well, Beth?”

“No, she’s not,” said Xavier flatly.

“What can I get her?” Molly said, sounding at a loss.

“I’ll make sure she gets home safely,” he said, and even in my state I couldn’t miss the accusatory tone.

“Thanks, Xavier, I owe you one. Oh, try not to say too much to her brother, he doesn’t seem like the understanding type.”

The smell of the leather seats in Xavier’s car was soothing, but I still felt like there was a furnace burning inside of me. I was vaguely aware of a bumpy car trip and of being carried to the door. I was conscious enough to hear what was going on around me but too drowsy to keep my eyes open. They seemed to shut of their own volition.

Because my eyes were shut I didn’t see the look on Gabriel’s face when he opened the door. But I couldn’t miss the alarm in his voice.

“What happened? Is she hurt?” I felt him cup my head in his hands.

“She’s okay,” Xavier said. “She just had too much to drink.”

“Where was she?”

“At Molly’s party.”

“Party?” Gabriel echoed. “We weren’t told anything about a party.”

“It wasn’t Beth’s fault—I don’t think she knew either.”

I felt myself transferred into my brother’s capable arms.

“Thank you for bringing her home,” Gabriel said in a voice designed to curtail further discussion.

“No problem,” said Xavier. “She was out of it for a while; she might need to be checked out.”

There was a pause while Gabriel considered what to say. I knew there was no need to call for a doctor. Besides, a medical examination would reveal some anomalies that couldn’t be explained. But Xavier didn’t know that, so he waited for Gabriel’s answer.

“We’ll take care of her,” Gabriel said.

It came out sounding wrong, as if he were trying to hide something. I wished he could have at least tried to sound more appreciative. Xavier had rescued me, after all. If it hadn’t been for him seeing that I was in trouble, I would still be at Molly’s and who knew what might have happened.

“Fair enough.” I could hear suspicion in Xavier’s voice and sensed a reluctance to leave. But there was no reason for him to stay. “Tell Beth I hope she feels better soon.”

I heard Xavier’s retreating footsteps crunching on the gravel drive and the sound of his car pulling out. The last thing I remembered was Ivy’s cool hands stroking my forehead and her healing energy flooding my body.

Phantom

I had no idea what time it was when I woke. I was only aware of the relentless pounding in my head and that my tongue felt like sandpaper. It took a while before I could put the events of the previous night into coherent order, but when I did, I wished I hadn’t. I felt a rush of shame as I remembered my disoriented state, my slurred speech, my failure to support my own weight. I remembered Gabriel gathering me into his arms and the concern mingled with disappointment in his voice. I remembered having to be undressed and the look of dismay on Ivy’s face as she put me to bed like a small child. As Ivy pulled the covers over me, I heard Gabriel’s reiterate his thanks to someone at the door.

Then I started to remember spending most of the time at Molly’s party slumped helplessly against the comforting body of a stranger. I groaned aloud when the stranger’s face flashed vividly in my mind. Of all the gallant knights who could have come to my rescue, why did it have to be Xavier Woods? What was Our Father in His infinite wisdom thinking? I struggled to recall the fragments of our brief conversation, but memory refused to volunteer such details.

I was overcome with a mixture of regret and humiliation. I buried my burning cheeks under the quilt and curled myself into a ball, hoping I could stay that way forever. What must Xavier Woods, the school captain of Bryce Hamilton, think of me now? What must everyone think of me? I had barely been at the school a week and already I had disgraced my family and proclaimed to the world that I was a novice at life. How could I have not realized how powerful those cocktails were? On top of it all, I had proved to my brother and sister that I was incapable of looking after myself outside of their care.

I heard muted voices floating up to me from downstairs. Gabriel and Ivy were discussing something in hushed tones. The burning returned to my cheeks as I thought of the position I had put them in. How selfish of me not to consider that my actions would impact on them as well! Their reputations were on the line as well as mine, and mine was now undoubtedly in tatters. I considered the possibility of us packing up and starting afresh in a new location. Surely Gabriel and Ivy wouldn’t expect me to stay in Venus Cove after the spectacle I’d made of myself. I half expected that in a moment they would come in to announce the news and we would quietly pack our bags and move on to a new town. There would be no time for farewells; the attachments I’d formed here would be reduced to nothing more than fond memories.

But no one came, and eventually I had no choice but to venture downstairs and face the consequences of what I had done. I caught a glimpse of myself in a hallway mirror. I looked fragile and there were bluish shadows under my eyes. The clock told me it was close to noon.

Downstairs, Ivy was working skillfully on a piece of embroidery at the kitchen table and Gabriel was standing at the window as straight as a pastor at his pulpit. He had his hands clasped behind his back and was looking thoughtfully out to sea. I went to the fridge and poured myself a tumbler of orange juice, which I gulped quickly to slake my raging thirst.

Gabriel didn’t turn even though I knew he was aware of my presence. I shivered—an angry tirade would have been better than this silent recrimination. I cared too much for Gabriel’s regard to lose it. If nothing else, his anger would have helped ease my guilt. I wished he would turn around so I could at least see his face.

Ivy put down her handiwork and looked up at me. “How are you feeling?” she asked. She sounded neither angry nor disappointed, and that confused me.

My hands moved involuntarily to my still-throbbing temples. “I’ve been better.”

Silence hung in the air like a shroud.

“I’m really sorry,” I continued meekly. “I don’t know how that happened. I feel so childish.”

Gabriel turned to look at me, his eyes the color of thunder. But in them I saw only his deep affection for me.

“There’s no need to fret, Bethany,” he said with his usual composure. “Now that we’re human we’re bound to make some mistakes.”

“You’re not angry?” I blurted, looking from one to the other. Their mother-of-pearl skin was incandescent in the morning light.

“Of course we’re not angry,” said Ivy. “How can we blame you for something that was beyond your control?”

“That’s just the point,” I said. “I should have known. It wouldn’t have happened to either of you. Why is it only me that makes mistakes?”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Gabriel advised. “Remember this is your first visit to earth. You will learn from your experiences and in time, you will be able to avoid such situations.”

“It’s easy to forget that people are blood and bone. They’re not indestructible,” Ivy added.

“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” I said, feeling a little heartened. My head still felt ready to explode, so I sat down and rested it on the cool surface of the table.

“Don’t worry, I have just the thing to get rid of that jack-hammer in your head,” said Gabriel.

Still in my fleecy pajamas, I went to his side and watched him gather ingredients from the fridge. He measured and tipped them into a blender with the precision of a scientist. Finally, he handed me a glass of murky red liquid.

“What
is
this?” I asked.

“Tomato juice, egg yolk, and a dash of chili,” he said. “According to the medical encyclopedia I read last night it’s one of the best-known cures for a hangover.”

The mixture looked and smelled disgusting, but the throbbing in my head wasn’t about to subside of its own accord. So I held my nose and gulped the drink down. It occurred to me later that Ivy could have cured my hangover with a touch to my temples, but perhaps my siblings were trying to teach me to accept the human consequences of my actions.

“I think we should all stay in today, don’t you?” Ivy suggested. “Take some time to reflect.”

I had never felt more in awe of my siblings than I did at that moment. The tolerance they displayed could only be described as superhuman, which of course it was.

Compared to the rest of the community we lived like Quakers: no television, computers, or cell phones. Our only concession to living on earth in the twenty-first century was the landline phone, which had been connected just after we moved in. We thought of technology as a sort of corrupting influence, promoting antisocial behavior and detracting from family values. Our home was a place where we spent time with one another, not whiling away time shopping on the Internet or watching mindless television programs.

Gabriel particularly hated the influence of television. During the preparation for our mission, he had shown us the beginning of a program to emphasize his point. It involved a group of people struggling with obesity being divided into groups and presented with tempting food to see if they were strong enough to resist. The ones who gave in were berated and shunned. It was disgusting, Gabriel said, to play with people’s emotions and prey on their weaknesses. It was even more sickening that the general public considered such cruelty
entertainment
.

So that afternoon we didn’t turn to technology to occupy our time but instead lazed on the deck reading, playing Scrabble, or simply lost in our own thoughts. Taking time to reflect didn’t mean we weren’t allowed to do other things; it just meant that we did them quietly and tried to spend some time evaluating our successes and failures. Or rather, Ivy and Gabriel evaluated their successes and I contemplated my failures. I stared at the sky and nibbled on slices of melon. Fruit, I’d decided, was my favorite food. The clean, sweet freshness of it reminded me of home. As I watched, I noticed that the sun appeared as a ball of blazing white in the sky—it was blinding and made my eyes hurt to look at it. I remembered the light in the Kingdom—our home was awash with mellow golden light that we could touch, and it dripped through our fingers like warm honey. It was much harsher here, but somehow more real.

“Have you seen this?” Ivy came out holding a platter of fruit and cheese and tossed a newspaper down on the table in disgust.

“Mmm.” Gabriel nodded.

“What is it?” I sat up, craning my neck to get a look at the headline. I caught a glimpse of the photograph splashed across the page. People were running in all directions; men trying in vain to shelter the women; and mothers reaching out to children who had fallen in the dust. Some of them had their eyes squeezed shut in prayer; others had their mouths open in silent screams. Behind them flames licked at the sky and roiling smoke obscured the sun.

“Bombings in the Middle East,” said my brother, turning the newspaper over with a flick of his wrist. It didn’t matter—the image was burned into my brain. “More than three hundred dead. You know what this means, don’t you?”

“Our Agents over there aren’t doing their job properly?” My voice sounded shaky.

“
Can’t
do their job properly,” Ivy corrected.

“What could be stopping them?” I asked.

“The forces of darkness are overpowering the forces of light,” Gabriel said gravely. “It’s happening more and more.”

“What makes you think Heaven is the only place sending out representatives?” Ivy sounded a little impatient with my lack of understanding. “We’ve got company.”

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” I asked.

Gabriel shook his head. “It’s not for us to act without authorization.”

“But there are three hundred dead!” I protested. “That must matter!”

“Of course it matters,” said Gabriel. “But our services haven’t been called for. We have been assigned our post, and we can’t abandon it because of a tragedy in another part of the globe. We have been instructed to stay here and watch over Venus Cove. There must be a reason for that.”

“What about those people?” I asked, their horror-struck faces flashing into my mind once again.

“All we can do is pray for divine intervention.”

By mid-afternoon we realized we were running low on groceries. Although I was still feeling washed out, I offered to go into town for them. I hoped the errand would obliterate troubling images from my mind and distract me from dwelling on human calamities.

“What should I get?” I asked, picking up an envelope ready to scribble a list on the back.

“Fruit, eggs, and some bread from that new French bakery that’s just opened,” said Ivy.

“Would you like a lift?” Gabriel offered.

“No, thanks, I’ll take my bike. I need the exercise.”

I let Gabriel return to his reading and collected my bicycle from the garage, tucking a folded canvas bag into the front. Ivy had started cutting back the roses in the front garden and waved when I sailed past her.

The ten-minute ride down into town was refreshing after my zombielike sleep. The air was crisp with the scent of pine trees, which helped dispel my gloom. I refused to let my thoughts wander to Xavier Woods and blocked out any recollections of the previous night. Of course my mind had its own agenda, and I shivered as I remembered the feel of his strong arms holding me up, the fabric of his shirt against my cheek, the touch of his hand brushing my hair away from my face, just as he’d done in my dream.

I left my bike chained to the rack outside the post office and headed toward the general store. As I reached the door, I slowed to let two women come out. One was slightly stooped and elderly, the other robust and middle-aged. The younger woman helped her companion to a bench, then returned to the shop and taped a notice to its window. Sitting obediently on his haunches beside the older woman was a silver-gray dog. It was the strangest creature I’d ever seen, with an expression so thoughtful it might have been human. Even seated, it held its body upright and had a regal air. Its jowls were slightly droopy, its fur satin sleek, and its eyes as colorless as moonlight.

The older woman had a dejected air that piqued my attention. As I looked at the notice on the shop window, I was able to determine the cause of her misery. It was a poster offering the dog “Free to a Good Home.”

“It’s for the best, Alice, you’ll see,” said the younger woman in a brisk, practical tone. “You want Phantom to be happy, don’t you? He can’t come with you when you move. You know the rules.”

The older woman shook her head sadly.

“But he’ll be in a strange place, and he won’t know what’s going on. We have our own little routine at home.”

“Dogs are very adaptable. Now let’s get you home in time for dinner. I’m sure the phone will start ringing as soon as we walk through the door.”

The woman named Alice didn’t seem to share her companion’s confidence. I watched her gnarled fingers anxiously twisting the dog’s leash and stray to her hair, which was coiled in a flimsy bun at the nape of her neck. She seemed in no hurry to make a move, as if getting up would be an indication of sealing a deal she hadn’t had time to think through.

“But how will I know he’s being properly looked after?” she said.

“We’ll make sure that whoever takes him agrees to bring him along to the new place for visits.”

A note of impatience had crept into the younger woman’s voice. I noticed too that her voice had grown progressively louder as the conversation continued. Her chest heaved and beads of sweat were beginning to form at her powdered temples. She kept glancing furtively at her watch.