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 e
xercise.”
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.
“What if they forget?” Alice sounded petulant.
“I’m sure they won’t,” her companion said dismissively. “Now, is there anything you need before I drive you home?”
“Just a bag of dog treats for Phantom but not the ones with chicken, he doesn’t like those.”
“Well, why don’t you wait here, and I’ll pop in and get them?”
Alice nodded, then stared ahead with a resigned expression. She bent down to scratch Phantom behind the ears. He looked up at her with a puzzled expression. There seemed to be a tacit understanding between owner and animal.
“What a beautiful dog,” I said by way of introduction. “What breed is he?”
“A Weimaraner,” Alice replied. “But sadly not mine for much longer.”
“Yes, I couldn’t help overhearing.”
“Poor Phantom.” Alice sighed and bent to talk to the dog. “You know exactly what’s going on, don’t you? But you’re being very brave about it all.”
I knelt to pat Phantom’s head, and he sniffed me cautiously before offering me his giant paw.
“That’s strange,” said Alice. “He’s usually much more reserved around strangers. You must be a dog person.”
“Oh, I love animals,” I said, even though this dog was the first I’d encountered. “If you don’t mind me asking, where are you going that he can’t come?”
“I’m moving to Fairhaven, the retirement village in town. Have you heard of it? No pets allowed, unless you count goldfish.”
“What a shame,” I said. “But don’t worry; I’m sure a dog as beautiful as Phantom will be snapped up in no time. Are you looking forward to going?”
She looked a little taken aback by the question. “You know, you’re the first person to ask me that. I suppose I’m not fussed one way or the other. I’ll be better once I know Phantom’s settled. I had hoped my daughter would take him, but she lives in an apartment and that won’t do.”
As Phantom butted his spongy nose against my hand, I was struck by an idea. Perhaps this meeting was Providence offering me an opportunity to make amends for my recent lack of responsibility. Wasn’t this what I was meant to be doing after all—making a difference to people wherever I could rather than focusing on my own egotistical obsessions? There wasn’t much I could do about a crisis on the other side of the globe but here was a situation where I might be of use.
“Maybe I could take him?” I suggested impulsively. “We have a big garden.” I knew that if I allowed myself time to think it through I would lose my nerve. Alice’s face brightened instantly.
“Could you? Are you quite sure?” she said. “That would be wonderful. You’ll never find a more loyal friend, I can promise you. Why, you’ve hit it off already. But what will your parents say?”
“They won’t mind,” I told her, hoping my siblings would view the decision the same way I did. “So it’s settled then?”
“Here’s Felicity.” Alice beamed. “We’d better tell her the good news.”
Phantom and I watched the two women drive away, one dabbing at her eyes, the other looking visibly relieved. Apart from a piteous yelp at his mistress and a soulful look in his eyes, Phantom seemed unperturbed to find himself suddenly in my keeping. He seemed to understand instinctively that the new arrangement was the best that could be hoped for under the circumstances. He waited patiently outside while I shopped. Then I hung the shopping bag from one handlebar, tied his leash to the other, and walked the bike home.
“Did you find the place all right?” Gabe called out when he heard me come in.
“Sorry, forgot the bread,” I said, striding into the kitchen with Phantom at my heels. “But I picked up a bargain instead.”
“Oh, Bethany,” Ivy gushed. “Where did you find him?”
“Long story,” I replied. “Someone needed a helping hand.” I gave them a summary of my encounter with Alice. Ivy stroked Phantom’s head and he placed his muzzle in her hand. There was something unearthly in his pale, doleful eyes that made him look as though he belonged with us. “I hope we can keep him?” I finished.
“Of course,” said Gabriel without further discussion. “Everyone needs a home.”
Ivy and I busied ourselves gathering Phantom a makeshift bed and deciding which bowl should be his. Gabriel watched us, the corners of his mouth twitching with the beginnings of a smile. He smiled so rarely that when he did it was like sun bursting through cloud.
It was obvious that Phantom was going to be my dog. He looked at me as his adoptive mother and loped after me wherever I went in the house. When I flopped down on the couch, he curled up at my feet like a hot water bottle and fell asleep, snoring softly. Despite his size, Phantom had an indolent nature, and it didn’t take him long before he was fully integrated into our little family.
After dinner I showered and settled on the sofa with Phantom’s head in my lap. His affection had a therapeutic effect, and I was feeling so relaxed I’d almost forgotten the events of the previous night.
Then there came a knock at the front door.
9
No Boys Allowed
Phantom gave a territorial growl and bounded
out of the room, sniffing furiously under and around the front door.
“What’s he doing here?” Gabriel muttered under his breath.
“Who is it?” Ivy and I whispered simultaneously.
“Our heroic school captain.”
Gabriel’s sarcasm was wasted on me.
“Xavier Woods is outside?” I asked incredulously, sneaking a look at myself in the mirror above the mantelpiece. Although it was early I was already in my cow-print pajamas with my hair pulled up in a banana clip. Ivy noticed and looked amused at my display of vanity. “Please don’t let him in—I look awful,” I begged.
I shifted uncomfortably as my siblings deliberated. After the display I’d put on at Molly’s party, Xavier Woods was the last person I wanted to see. In fact, he was the one person I wanted most to avoid.
“Has he gone?” I asked after a minute.
“No,” said Gabriel. “And he appears to have no intention of going.”
I gestured wildly at Phantom to move away from the door. “Come here, boy!” I whispered, trying to whistle softly through my teeth. “Stop that, Phantom!”
Phantom ignored me and shoved his nose farther under the door.
“What does he want?” I asked Gabriel.
My brother paused for a moment to tune into Xavier’s thoughts and his face darkened.
“Well, I think that’s rather presumptuous.”
“What is?”
“How long have you known this young man?”
“Stop it, Gabe. That’s a breach of privacy!” I snapped.
“Honestly.” Ivy got up, shaking her head. “I think he’s probably heard us by now. Besides, we can’t just ignore him. He recently did Bethany a good turn, remember?”
“At least wait for me to go upstairs,” I hissed, but she was already at the door, tugging Phantom back and commanding him to settle down. When she walked back into the room, Xavier Woods was right behind her, looking his usual self, apart from his hair, which was slightly wind ruffled. Satisfied that Xavier posed no threat, Phantom resumed his recumbent position on the sofa with a deep sigh. Gabriel acknowledged Xavier’s presence with a mere incline of his head.
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