Angel Creek

by Sally Rippin

  They watched some bad daytime TV for a while, without bothering to put the sound up. Nonna caressed Jelly’s small hand in her big rough one, her fingers as knobbled as old grapevines. Jelly used to hate it when Nonna wanted to hold her hand all the time, especially when she was little, but now she didn’t mind so much.

  A big white bird wheeled past the window, floating effortlessly against the sun-bleached sky. Jelly’s thoughts turned to the angel. If anyone was to believe in angels it would be her nonna.

  ‘Nonna,’ she said. ‘Have you ever seen an angel?’ Nonna tightened her grasp around Jelly’s hand. ‘No, mia bella. When you nonno die I think I no want to live. Me and you nonno, we together for sixty-three years. You imagine? I don’t know how I live after he gone. Every day I pray to be with him. But when I get the heart pain the other night all I can think is I no ready. I no ready for my angel to come.’ Nonna cupped Jelly’s cheek in her palm and her eyes filled with tears. ‘Because I still have you, mia bella. And my other three beautiful grandchildren. I want to see you grow up. Then I happy to be with you nonno. Now, I no ready. I want to stay.’ She slid her hand down again to find Jelly’s. ‘You my angel.’ She turned back towards the television.

  They watched the screen in silence and an ache rushed through Jelly’s heart.

  Was the angel here for her nonna? Is that why it had come? Why else had it turned up on Christmas Eve, the very night that Nonna had fallen ill? If she had left the angel in the creek that night would her nonna now be…? She couldn’t bear to think about it.

  The bird swooped back again, arcing and looping in the sky, and other thoughts filled her head. She remembered finding a butterfly in the garden when she was a little girl. She had picked it up by its wings and proudly carried it inside to show her dad. He had hugged her and explained that now she had touched the butterfly’s wings it would no longer be able to fl y. Even the most gentle touch damaged them beyond repair. Sometimes, he said, it is better to leave nature alone.

  Jelly had refused to believe him. She climbed up into the lemon tree and placed the butterfly on the highest branch where it swayed in the breeze, and she sat there holding her breath, bursting with hope. But the butterfly toppled down to the ground like a piece of blackened paper.

  16

  the bad thing returns

  That afternoon, Jelly stayed in her room while Gino and Pik watched TV downstairs. Gino and Jelly were still not speaking to each other. But Jelly didn’t want to be the one to break the silence. He can make it up to me, she thought. He’s the one who’s wrong this time.

  She took out her sketchbook and pencils to make a card for Nonna. She drew an angel on the front of the card with two outstretched wings. She thought of their little angel and drew its sweet face and long curling hair. She wondered if it was missing its mother. Surely angels had families? Why wouldn’t they? Even animals had families.

  Suddenly, her room darkened and she heard a rumble of thunder. Out the window indigo clouds gathered like bruises. There was a sound like a stone dropping onto the tin roof. Then another and another. Hail? In the middle of summer? Her wooden blinds clattered in the wind and she stood up to close the window. Through the glass there was a flash of lightning and the whole sky lit up. That’s when Jelly saw it. In the light. Hovering above the apricot tree. It was so bright she could barely make out its face, but it was there. A figure. Long and tall with blinding eyes and wild, winding hair. And wings. Huge wings that filled the width of her window and more. Much bigger than their angel. Staring right at her. Then it was gone.

  There was another crack of lightning and, as she watched, her dear old apricot tree split clean in two. The right side crashed onto the side fence, flattening it. The left side fell on Nonna’s vegetable patch. Jelly heard her dad bounding down the stairs, shouting, Maureen’s shrill voice in the kitchen, Pik squealing. The hail fell harder; its roar was deafening. Jelly watched her dad run out into the back garden, his hands in his hair. The wind whipped around him. Then the lights went out. Jelly felt a stabbing pain in her head and then something wet dripping onto her hand. There was another fl ash of lightning and when she looked down, she saw blood falling from her nose. She moved back from the window, sat on the edge of her bed and pinched her nose. The hailstones turned to slicing rain. In the kitchen, her dad was shouting at Maureen to find candles, for Gino and Pik to stay calm.

  Eventually, her nosebleed stopped and the pain in her head lessened. She got up from her bed to find her shoes. In the dark of the storm, she slipped downstairs and out the back door. Her dad was lighting candles and Maureen was comforting Pik, who was wailing. No one saw her leave. She ran out into the garden and was soaked within seconds. She stood in front of the apricot tree, her old friend, and tears pricked her eyes. The trunk was scorched black and great splinters, as tall as Jelly, pointed to the sky. She scrambled over the fallen branches and headed to the creek. The rain drove into her body like needles and the wind pulled at her like hands. I have to stop this, she thought. There is only one way to stop this and I know now what I must do.

  Water rushed down the embankment, and her feet slid out from under her. She had never seen the creek so fierce. It roared up like a dragon, spiky with rain. As she ran along the bike path, the sky cracked open again with light. On St Peter’s Road, people were scurrying for shelter. A car skidded on the tram tracks. When Jelly reached Ivy Street, the rain suddenly cleared. The clouds rolled away and it was day again. She slowed to a walk, her breath coming in gasps. Blood was pounding in her head. One by one, people opened their front doors to stare up at the sky.

  Now that it was light again Jelly began to wonder how she could possibly get the angel down to the creek. In broad daylight. And on her own. As if her fears had been spoken aloud, she saw two figures on bikes in the distance, winding their way towards her. Budgie and Jack. When they spotted her, Jack picked up speed and Budgie followed him. Jelly thought about turning back, but then they were beside her.

  Jack rode his bike a full circle around her then skidded to a stop. ‘You,’ he said. ‘Still hanging around.’

  Budgie showed his yellow teeth.

  Jelly said nothing. She had nothing to say.

  ‘Didn’t we tie you up tightly enough last time?’ Jack dropped his bike to the ground and stepped over its shiny frame. He shoved his hands into his pockets and his elbows stuck out like wings. ‘You’re a pain, aren’t you? Hanging around like a bad smell. Why do you keep coming here, anyhow? What’s in the school that you’re so interested in?’

  Jelly looked at the ground. Rain dripped from her clothes onto the wet footpath. It trickled down the backs of her knees. ‘I—’ she started.

  That’s when they heard the sound. Banging on tin. Coming from the shed.

  Jack chuckled. ‘Ah, that’s what it is then? You keeping something in there? You wanna come and show us?’

  ‘There’s nothing,’ she said. ‘That’s just the tool shed. There’s nothing in there.’

  But she shouldn’t have spoken. At the sound of her voice, the banging became louder.

  ‘Really?’ Jack grinned. ‘Maybe we should see for ourselves.’

  He stuck his foot under the wire and lifted it. Budgie leaned his bike against a pole and shoved Jelly aside as he passed. Jack slid under and Budgie went to follow him. For a moment Jelly wasn’t sure he would get through, but then, with a grunt, he was on the other side. Jelly stood frozen to the footpath. Jack and Budgie sauntered over to the tool shed. As they neared it the banging stopped. Jelly’s instinct told her to run away. She could save herself. She need never know what happened to the angel. She need never come back this way again. But she knew she couldn’t do it. It was her fault the angel was trapped. She couldn’t leave it to Jack and Budgie.

  She watched them pause at the shed door. Jack opened it and peered in. All was quiet. Budgie nudged him and the two boys stepped into the shed. Suddenly the door slammed shut and there was a wild scream. At first she thought it was t
he angel and her blood ran cold. She slid under the fence and ran towards them. They were hurting it! But then the scream came again and she knew it wasn’t the angel. It was a boy’s voice. There was a crashing sound and more banging. She ran to the shed door and pulled at it, but it wouldn’t open.

  ‘Let me in!’ she shouted. ‘Don’t hurt it. Let me in.’

  Suddenly the door swung open, catching her in the face, and she stumbled backwards. She looked up to see who was coming out. It was Gino! He had the picnic blanket in his arms and he shoved it at Jelly. Then he slammed the door shut and bolted it. ‘Quick,’ he said. ‘You take it.’

  The blanket began to scrabble in her arms. A long white arm reached out, then the angel’s head burst through the folds.

  Jelly’s mind was spinning. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Hurry! Before they break the door down.’ Gino leaned against the door, which was rocking on its hinges as Jack and Budgie thumped and shouted to be let out. ‘Go! I can’t hold these guys in for much longer. And I sure don’t want to be here when they get out. Go! I’ll head home to cover for you.’

  Jelly raced to the fence. As she ran down Ivy Street it began to rain again. Lightly at first, then harder and harder. The cold rain seemed to soak through her skin and course through her veins. She saw a vision of Nonna in hospital, lying on her stiff white bed. A bright light flashed at her window. It was an angel. No, it couldn’t be. Nonna wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to go. The angel couldn’t be here for her. But then Jelly wondered if you really got a say in these things. Her feet carried her towards the creek. She didn’t know where else to go, what else to do.

  She reached the bike path and slowed so as not to slip, but as they neared the water the angel grew restless in her arms. It pushed out from the blanket and Jelly toppled over, trying to keep hold of it. She landed hard on her injured knees and roared out in pain. The angel scrambled over her, panicking, and scuttled towards the road.

  ‘No,’ Jelly shouted, and pulled herself up. ‘Not that way!’

  Jelly grabbed at its leg but the angel’s skin was slippery with rain and it slid from her grasp. Quickly, she picked up the picnic blanket and tossed it over the angel. The weight of the wet blanket threw it to the ground. She pounced on it, rolled it tightly again and lifted it up. Her knees were bleeding and she limped towards the creek.

  The tunnel waited, mouth wide. Jelly carried the angel inside where no one could see them. The rain was so heavy that there was little risk of anyone being on the bike path and she was hidden from the road by the bridge. A tram clacked overhead. Here, in the gloomy light, she let the blanket fall away from the angel’s face. It looked up at her and she saw that its glassy eyes were calm. She knew that this was the right thing to do. The only thing to do. And she prayed that all the bad things would stop when the angel was returned. That whatever was looking for it, that thing in the light in her window, that thing that killed her tree, that got in her head, that made Nonna sick, would go away and leave them alone once the angel was safely back where it belonged.

  Jelly waded into the water with the angel in her arms. The creek was much higher than it had been the night they found the angel. It pushed and pulled her deeper. When she reached the place where the rock was, now deep under the swirling water, she unwrapped the blanket. It was wrenched away from her and floated downstream.

  ‘Go,’ she whispered to the angel. ‘Go!’ The angel clung to her as it unfurled its enormous wings. They gleamed in the shadows. It beat them twice. Two slow beats and Jelly felt herself lifting upwards. Then her heart sank as it occurred to her that she was wrong. The bad thing was there. Right there in the tunnel, in the darkness, in the creek. The water reared up. A blinding light filled the tunnel and her head filled with pain. She felt her arms empty, her head grow light, then she sank into black.

  At that moment Jelly knew for certain.

  The angel had not come for her nonna.

  The angel had come for her.

  17

  the dark, the light

  Jelly woke. She opened her eyes. She was lying in the mud of the creek bank in the dark of the tunnel. She didn’t know how or why but she had been saved. She was safe. The rain had stopped and the creek rushed past her feet, lapping at her shoes. But she was still there. Her body was hollow but her heart was full. In the distance she heard footsteps running towards her. She turned her head slowly and in the entrance she saw two figures silhouetted against the bright light of the day. Her dad rushed towards her, scooped her up into his arms. His face was wet. ‘Oh, my baby,’ he buried his head against her neck. ‘Oh, my baby girl. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.’

  He swung her up into his arms just like when she was a child and held her, her head against his neck. Jelly felt his chest heave. Then he turned back towards the entrance of the tunnel. ‘Where is he? Where’s that boy?’

  But he was gone.

  I owe you three times now, she thought.

  18

  the power of wishes

  Jelly’s dad changed her out of her wet clothes and tucked her into bed. Maureen brought her a hot chocolate and Gino and Pik hung about in the doorway.

  ‘She needs to rest now,’ her dad said. ‘You boys can see her later.’ He sat on Jelly’s bed.

  ‘Does Mum know?’ she whispered.

  Dad nodded. ‘I called her.’

  ‘I—I slipped…’ It was the only thing she could think of to say.

  ‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘For now all I care about is that you’re safe.’ He stroked her forehead. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again his eyes were shiny with tears.

  Dad stood up to close her blinds and she lay on her bed in the dark. He left the room and she heard him on the upstairs phone to Mum. She thought she heard him crying. She had only heard her dad cry like that once before. Eight years ago. When his father had died. She closed her eyes and prayed that Nonna was all right.

  She wished everyone would just come home.

  Jelly drifted in and out of sleep. Sometimes she woke and her dad was sitting next to her in the dark. She heard her mum come home. She came quietly into Jelly’s room and kissed her forehead. She heard Gino and Pik get into their beds on the floor.

  She was there but also not.

  Soon the house was quiet.

  She fell into a dream-filled sleep.

  The baby angel was sitting at the end of her bed. It crouched there, knees tucked under its chin, peeling grapes and popping them into its mouth. When it realised Jelly was watching, the angel smiled and passed Jelly a grape. Jelly looked down at the smooth grape in her open palm. As she watched, the grape began to grow. Its translucent sides split open and hundreds of tiny silver angels, each one no bigger than a firefly, spun into the air. As they reached the open window they drifted up into the night sky where they spread out across the darkness, glittering like stars.

  The next morning, Jelly woke with the birds. They were singing loud and bright around her window and the sun crept through the slats of her blinds. She lay awake and listened to Pik and Gino sleeping.

  ‘Gino,’ she hissed. She leaned over and shook him gently till he stirred.

  ‘Hmm?’

  ‘Shh, don’t wake Pik.’

  ‘What is it? Are you okay?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine.’ Jelly smiled. ‘What happened in the shed yesterday? With Budgie and Jack?’

  Gino sat up, rubbing his eyes. He grinned, his whole face lighting up. ‘The angel scared those guys to bits. You should’ve seen it. It was more like a devil than an angel. I had been trying to get it to come to me when they came in, and when it saw them it just freaked. It was flapping everywhere like crazy. Lucky I got it in the blanket before they realised what it was.’

  ‘What were you doing in there, anyway? Why were you trying to catch it?’

  Gino was silent a moment. Then he took a deep breath and looked down. ‘I saw it too. That thing in the lightning. It was the same as the thin
g in the water, wasn’t it? Looking for our angel. I’d already begun to think that all the bad things happening weren’t just a coincidence. Guess I just didn’t want to believe it at first.’ His voice became soft. ‘I guess I was hoping I could get it to do stuff for me like it was doing for you.’

  Jelly frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘You really didn’t notice? Your wishes. Every time you wished for something you got it. Sophia getting sick. I bet you wished for something that made the branch fall on Dad’s car.’

  ‘Why would I want Sophia to get sick? Are you crazy?’

  ‘Well, you didn’t wish for it exactly. But the angel made them happen that way. You wanted to keep the pram, remember? So you said you wished Sophia wasn’t around. You see?’

  Jelly felt a wave of nausea rush through her. It was me? she thought. It was me making all those bad things happen? Then she remembered. Nonna. She had made Nonna sick. She knew that now. When she wished for Gino to stay. All the bad thoughts she’d been having. She couldn’t believe it. What other careless wishes had she made?

  She looked up at Gino and he seemed to understand what was going through Jelly’s mind. ‘It’s not your fault. You didn’t know. I guessed what was happening but I didn’t tell you because I wanted to get it to do stuff for me. But it wouldn’t. Not even one wish. It wouldn’t even let me touch it.’

  Jelly remembered an old Italian saying her nonno had told her when she was young. She didn’t know why she hadn’t remembered it before. To see an angel meant someone would die. The angel had come for her. It really was her angel. That was why it wouldn’t let Gino or Pik get close to it. But why hadn’t it taken her away with it? Why had she been saved? Her mind spun with questions she knew she would never find an answer to.