by Sally Rippin
Gino crouched beside her and they studied the angel’s wing as it nestled into Jelly’s chest. In the daylight it was easier to see the injury. Jelly parted some feathers gently and the angel flinched. There was a small crust of dried blood matting up the downy feathers underneath and a thin white bone was sticking out of the skin, which looked puckered and pinky and sore.
‘Pass me the water,’ Jelly said. ‘It looks like it’s been bleeding in the night.’
‘It needs a bang-daid,’ Pik said. ‘Poor angel.’
Gino and Jelly shared a furtive grin. ‘Bandaid, you idiot,’ Gino said. He took the water bottle out of the plastic bag and passed it to Jelly.
‘Mum says not to call me that.’ Pik shuffled closer to pat the angel’s head.
‘You’re right, Pik,’ Jelly said, dribbling water over the wound. ‘It does need a bandaid. But let’s give it some food first.’
Pik bared his teeth at Gino.
Gino broke off a crust of bread and held it out to the angel but it only burrowed deeper into Jelly’s chest.
‘You scare it. Give the bread to me.’ She broke off a tiny corner and held it under the angel’s nose. It sniffed, then a silvery tongue darted out and the bread was gone. ‘See!’ she said. But her smugness didn’t last long. The angel began to cough and gag, and spat the morsel of bread out onto her lap in a gooey trail of slime. ‘Ew!’ She resisted the urge to push the angel off her lap. ‘Did we bring any tissues?’
Gino laughed until Jelly gave him the evil eye.
As she trickled some water onto her filthy shorts to try to wash off the muck, the angel thrust its head forward and licked desperately at the wet patch.
‘It’s thirsty,’ Pik said, gnawing on a piece of the abandoned bread stick.
Jelly tried to tip some of the water into the angel’s mouth but it shied away from the bottle and would only lick it off her skin. Eventually she worked out it would drink from her cupped hands and its long tongue lapped in and out until it was full.
‘Try a grape,’ Gino said.
Jelly pulled one off the bunch and handed it to the angel. It sat up in her lap, suddenly interested, and sniffed at the fruit. Then it grabbed the grape in both hands and deftly peeled away the skin before popping it in its mouth.
‘Ha!’ Pik said. ‘Monkeys do that.’
‘Give it some more,’ Gino said. ‘It likes them.’
‘Not too many,’ Jelly said. ‘I don’t want it throwing up all over me again.’
The angel shoved the grapes into its mouth as quickly as Jelly could peel them. Gino and Pik watched, stifling fits of giggles. When they laughed the angel would hide its face against Jelly’s chest and she would have to coax it out again with another peeled grape. She was beginning to feel like a mother ape.
‘We’d better go soon,’ said Gino, suddenly serious. ‘Our parents might be back.’
‘Not yet.’ She stroked the angel’s hair. ‘We need to bandage its wing.’
Jelly pulled out some bandages and Dettol from the plastic bag and looked around the shed for something she could use as a splint. ‘Get a stick from the mulberry tree,’ she told Gino. ‘A strong one but not too big.’
The angel lay still as Jelly bandaged its wing, like it understood she was trying to help it, and she was as gentle as she could be. Her dad had taught her how— close to the body and folded in tight. The cockatoo had been tricky, flapping around everywhere. But the angel wasn’t like that. It trusted her.
When she was finished she stroked its hair until it fell asleep. Gino sat quietly, watching. She could see that he was impressed. She was feeling quite pleased with herself, too. Perhaps she wasn’t going to be an environmental scientist like her dad anymore. She might be a doctor. Or a vet. As she looked down at the sleeping angel she wondered if it was more human or more animal. It was hard to tell. It looked like a human, but it sure acted like an animal.
When Gino and Pik weren’t looking, Jelly pulled its dress thing up, just a little bit, to see if it had a bottom. It did. And it looked like angels didn’t wear undies.
Jelly pulled the dress down quickly before the boys saw her peeking. She didn’t want to look at what it had in front. Especially if it was a boy. She wondered if all angels were that skinny or if it had been lost and hungry for a while. In the pictures she’d seen in books and churches, angels were grown-up and had long golden hair and harps and things. Or they were fat babies—cherubs, with bows and arrows. Maybe only the kid ones were this skinny? She wondered if it did have a mother and a father. Were they looking for it?
‘We’ll take you back,’ Jelly whispered to the angel. ‘Just as soon as your wing’s better.’
But she wanted to show Stef first. After all, what was the point of having something magical happen to you if you couldn’t share it with your best friend? Gino was pulling bark off a mulberry twig. ‘Can we go now?’ he said. ‘Dad’ll kill me if we’re not there when they get back. I’m supposed to wash his car today as punishment for staying out last night.’
‘That’s so mean,’ said Jelly. ‘It’s Christmas Day!’
Gino shrugged. ‘Yeah.’
Jelly stroked the angel’s wings and felt all her anger towards her uncle come up out of her chest, like a gust of hot air, and rush down her arms and through her fingertips. The angel stirred and then settled again. ‘Let’s go then,’ she said, and took Pik’s hand. Gino pulled the door shut behind them and slid the bolt across.
‘It’s not going anywhere,’ Jelly said.
‘It can still crawl,’ Gino said. ‘It might get out. I don’t want it to escape.’
‘What do you mean you don’t want it to escape? It’s not like it belongs to you.’
‘Yes, it does,’ Gino said. ‘I found it.’
‘What?’
‘In the creek. I was the first to see it. You didn’t even want to go into the water.’
‘But I’m the one looking after it. It wants me.’
‘Yeah, Gino,’ Pik piped up from behind Jelly’s legs. ‘Jelly fixed its wing.’
‘Shut up, Pik! This has nothing to do with you. It’s my angel. I’m taking it home with me to show my friends.’
‘You can’t do that,’ Jelly said.
‘Why not?’
‘Because, because…the adults might see it. You can’t just show it to anybody.’
‘I bet you want to show it to your friends. Why can’t I show mine?’
Jelly felt her cheeks heat up. ‘That’s not the same. Your friends are…’
‘What?’
‘They’re boys! They’ll hurt it, or something, Gino. Don’t be stupid!’
Gino’s face flared red. ‘I’m not stupid. You’re stupid. I can do what I want. And anyway, finders keepers.’
Jelly glared at Gino and he glared back. A moth of panic banged around in her chest. Gino couldn’t keep the angel. He couldn’t. Even if he was the first to see it. That didn’t mean anything. It wanted her. She was the one looking after it. It was hers, not Gino’s.
All the way back to her house Gino walked ahead of Jelly, and Pik skipped to keep up. They didn’t speak to each other once.
6
a silver heart
‘Shhh,’ Maureen said as they came in the back door, even though they hadn’t actually said anything yet. She was sitting on the couch with Sophia, watching cartoons with the sound down low. ‘Your mum and dad are home, Jelly. They’re asleep upstairs.’
‘How’s Nonna?’ Jelly asked.
‘They’re just keeping an eye on her for now, honey.’
‘Where are my parents?’ Gino asked.
‘Well,’ said Maureen, turning to face him. ‘The strangest thing just happened. That old gum tree out the front dropped an enormous branch onto your dad’s car. Almost flattened it. That tree’s been there for almost thirty years and never lost a twig.’
‘Not the Alfa!’
Maureen nodded.
‘Dad’s going to be so mad. Where is he?’
‘I’m going upstairs,’ Jelly said, stifling a smile. Her uncle was obsessed with his new car. Sometimes she thought he cared more about it than Gino, Pik or Sophia. Serves him right, she thought.
Jelly didn’t go into her room straight away. Instead she stood in the doorway of her parents’ room and watched her mum and dad. Her dad was frowning in his sleep. She couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to grow up. All those things that adults had to worry about. And all that sitting around talk, talk, talking when there were so many trees to climb and gardens to explore. She thought about this as she listened to her mum’s quiet, feathery breath and her dad’s snorkling one. After a while she wandered into the study to look up angels on the internet.
The first site she found was full of paintings of angels. None of them looked like hers. These angels were tall and graceful, and floating on clouds, with harps or doves in their hands. Also they all looked very human. Jelly’s angel was much more like a creature, wilder and more animal-like. Jelly hadn’t seen it fly, obviously, but it didn’t even seem to be able to walk on two legs. It mostly scuttled crab-like across the floor. The only thing it had in common with these angels was its face, its delicate porcelain features. Jelly typed in ‘can angels come to earth?’ and found many stories of people who’d seen angels. But in all the cases, angels had come to them, not the other way around. No one had ever just stumbled across an angel in the wild. This made her wonder: had their angel been on its way somewhere when it got caught up in the creek rubbish? She turned the computer off.
In her bedroom, Jelly curled up on the lumpy blankets that she and Gino had slept in. She watched the shadows of the peppercorn trees on the ceiling, and thought about the angel. She wasn’t going to let Gino take it home. It was too dangerous. And Gino lived too far away to be able to get it back to the creek. No, Gino was wrong. She would have to show him somehow. He used to listen to her. Why had he suddenly become so difficult?
And he was so mean to Pik. He sounded just like his dad when he bullied Pik. Except Gino never said anything when his dad got stuck into him, just stood there, eyes glassed over, like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car.
It drove Jelly crazy. She couldn’t imagine ever being scared of her parents the way Gino seemed to be scared of his. Now that his precious car was dented, Zio Mario would be in a foul mood. And Gino would be the one to cop it. She almost felt sorry for him then.
Jelly rolled over onto her side and glimpsed a small pile of badly wrapped presents hidden under her bed. She smiled. They were obviously Gino’s. He was terrible at gift-wrapping.
She pulled one out and saw her name on it in fat black texta. Of all the presents hidden under there, she had pulled out hers. That was a sign, she decided. It wouldn’t hurt to take a little peek. It was probably something awful anyway, like the stinky perfume he’d given her from the two-dollar shop. Or the ugly shell paperweight he had made at school. Jelly giggled. A little peek would prepare her for the worst. But when she saw what was inside she gasped.
It was a silver heart locket. The one she had seen last Christmas and had so desperately wanted. She had told Gino that all her friends had them, but her parents had said no. Gino must have remembered.
Jelly suddenly felt very bad. Not just for peeking at her present but also for fighting with Gino. It had been a pretty ordinary Christmas for all of them. But at least she was in her own house. It must be much worse for him. She wrapped the locket up again, slipped it back in among the others, and decided to risk a truce. She crept down the stairs.
‘Psst, Gino,’ she hissed, while Pik was distracted by the cartoons. ‘Want to come outside?’
‘Okay.’ Gino slid off the couch and followed her to the back door. Jelly wasn’t sure if she had been forgiven or if she was just the best option he had at that moment, but she had to admit that was one of the best things about Gino. He didn’t stay mad for long.
7
the bullies
Jelly and Gino climbed the apricot tree, searching for fruit that hadn’t been pecked by the birds. The good apricots were high up, near where the branches became too thin to hold them. From there they could see over the back fence, over the creek, as far as the school.
Neither of them mentioned the angel but Jelly knew they were both thinking about it. She hoped it wasn’t too hot in the shed. There was a breeze at the top of the tree but Jelly was still sticky with sweat and apricot juice. Above them fine clouds like fairy floss scudded across the sky. The heat pressed down on their scalps and turned their faces pink. Gino threw an apricot stone into the vegetable garden in front of Nonna’s fl at.
‘Careful,’ Jelly said. ‘Nonna will kill you if you touch her tomatoes.’
Gino grinned, then his face fell. ‘Nonna’s not going to die, is she?’ he asked in a small voice.
‘Of course not,’ Jelly said, but she heard the hesitation in her voice. The thought made her sick. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like if her grandmother was gone. Nonna had lived with them since Jelly was small. Since her nonno had died. Every day after school it was nonna who listened to all the intricate details of Jelly’s day: who was fighting, which girl had the nicest hair, which boys had been particularly annoying or smelly.
Gino spat out an apricot stone and sighed. ‘I wish you had a pool.’
‘Me too.’
‘Can you swim in the creek?’
‘Yuck,’ Jelly said. ‘Don’t think so. We could dunk our feet though.’
‘Good idea,’ said Gino, and without another word they were out of the tree and over the fence.
It was much cooler by the water. Jelly and Gino waded in the shallows and watched insects skitter across the glossy mud. In the tunnel, two boys were throwing stones into the water.
‘They’re the boys who rode past last night.’ Jelly frowned. ‘They’re always in the tunnel.’
‘From your new high school?’
‘Yeah.’
She watched as one of the boys picked up a big stone and hurled it at a duck, missing it by only a few centimetres. The boys laughed as the duck paddled away, quacking indignantly.
‘They shouldn’t do that,’ Jelly muttered.
‘Why don’t you tell them?’ Gino grinned. ‘Go on, I dare you.’
Jelly faced him. She knew it was a stupid dare but she couldn’t resist the opportunity to impress Gino. ‘All right. I will then.’
‘I was joking.’
‘Just watch me.’
Jelly strode towards the tunnel trying to hide her nerves. Even though she had seen the boys around the creek most days she had never been this close to them and had certainly never spoken to them. One of the boys was tall and lanky with a face like a pepperoni pizza. The other was short and stocky and looked like he hadn’t evolved much from his caveman ancestors. Both of them glared at Jelly as she entered the tunnel. Part of her, the sensible part, told her she should just keep walking—right through the tunnel and out the other side. Gino wouldn’t think any less of her. But the other part of her felt angry. Angry enough to say something without thinking of the consequences.
She heard her voice come out smaller than she had hoped. ‘You shouldn’t throw stones at those ducks. You might hurt them.’
Neanderthal Boy snorted.
‘So?’ said Pizza Face.
‘So…just that. You should leave them alone. They haven’t done anything to you.’
Pizza Face’s eyes narrowed. ‘Who says?’
‘Yeah, who says?’ Neanderthal Boy chuckled.
Jelly chewed her lip while she considered her next move. Going back the way she came was looking like the best option. Walking straight ahead would require more confidence than her quaking legs could muster. Another boy appeared at the other end of the tunnel. A boy she hadn’t seen before. He stood against the li
ght that streamed in from the entrance. Jelly couldn’t make out his face, but he was tall with straight black hair that hung down to his shoulders. Now she knew she was beaten. There was no way she was going to stand up to a whole gang of boys just to save a bunch of ducks. If only Stef was there. Stef would have the perfect comeback line to flatten them. She always did. Stef was bold and brave. Not like Gino, who was fidgeting in the shade of the willow trees.
The new boy called out. ‘Jack! Budgie! You coming or what?’
So now she knew their names. Jack, the pizza face, and Budgie, the Neanderthal. They turned. Then they headed off in the direction of the new boy without giving her a second glance. Jelly watched them disappear.
She turned to Gino, who was gaping at her. From where he stood, he wouldn’t have seen the third boy appear. Or heard what had been said. It would have looked as if Jelly had shooed Jack and Budgie away like two annoying flies. Jelly grinned and made a gesture like she was brushing dust off her shoulders. She loved impressing Gino.
Jelly sauntered back to the shade. ‘Easy as.’ She grinned. ‘Guys who pick on ducks are wimps.’ She was happy to bathe in Gino’s admiration while it lasted. And then, feeling like she might have control over the situation again, she said, ‘I reckon we should check up on the angel. Let’s take it some more food.’ Jelly patted her pockets, which bulged with apricots.
It wasn’t until they had rounded the corner of the school that Jelly heard the ominous swish of bike wheels behind them. She turned. Jack and Budgie and the new boy were heading towards them. Jelly pulled Gino under the cover of the mulberry tree but it was no use, they had already been spotted. Jack hoicked his bike onto the footpath and braked in front of them, blocking their way. Budgie and the other boy rode in circles around the street.
‘Oh, look, it’s the duck-saver,’ Jack said. ‘Not thinking of going into the school, are you? It’s out of bounds over the holidays.’
‘I guessed that,’ Jelly said. ‘It’s locked anyway.’