by Sarah Mussi
And her life ebbed away.
I watched the monitor zoom into one flat line. I heard the alarm sound in the charge nurses’ office.
The girl whimpered, clung to me. Her form stirred now as if it were loath to be parted from its animated spirit. So after all she would have hung on to life, despised as she saw it? I marvelled. Felt jealous. Oh to know that unknowable thing. Mortality.
Her soul seemed to rise off the bed, then sink reluctantly down. I was used to this: the attachment that the body has for its soul, so I let the memory of it follow us as I guided her out of the little room.
Nurses came racing down the corridor. I held her close as they passed. I held the shade that used to be her body close too. It wasn’t her real corporeal body, just a memory, a sad imprint of flesh and bone. I let them seek the comfort of each other, her soul and her shadow self, and then I took her by the hand. I said, ‘You will have to stay with me, my dear one.’
‘I’m Robyn,’ she said. She looked like a robin, her small, bird-fragile form, her thin nose, her light brown hair.
‘Come then, Robyn,’ I said gently. ‘Stay with me. I’ll be your guide today and deliver you to your final home by nightfall.’ She tucked her thin bird-like hand in mine, and we walked quietly back together to Marcus’s room.
Robyn was very quiet. She was disorientated, of course. But I think she’d probably always been a quiet soul. I felt a twinge of guilt, even though I’d really given her a very gentle Passing Over. I should have taken her straight to Hell, of course, and come back on cue to Collect the old chap and the baby. I could probably have even slipped back early to spend an extra five minutes with Marcus too. But I wanted more. Five minutes was no longer good enough. Neither was five hours, nor five days, nor five millennia.
How huge and hungry was my greed for him. How terrible my desire. How deadly my sin. If I had known then what it would lead me to, would I have done things differently?
Marcus was still asleep, still in his private room, in the private wing of the hospital. I crossed through the space by the side of his heart monitors and opened the French windows on to the sunniest, sweetest patio. Light glanced in through the room, spearing Marcus on his bed. From the edge of the patio, gardens swept away like Elysian Fields. The verges of them were graced by cedars and pines. Quickly I scanned their reaches. Then I bent my gaze back to the patio. I sighted a bench. I took Robyn by the hand and led her through the open glass doors.
‘Here,’ I said, indicating the bench. On its back was a brass plaque on which was written: I lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help, and a dedication to Mrs Spenser, late of this parish.
‘Lie down,’ I told Robyn. ‘I’ll cover you. The sunshine will warm your spirit; you can breathe the fresh scent of roses from here.’ I created a bed of gossamer and silk and conjured a choir of doves to coo to her.
She lay down without a word and closed her eyes. I covered her with the gossamer. I didn’t need to, but her phantom body was still unused to its new self and was shivering; strange really, as if it could actually feel the chilly breeze that swept down from the pines.
Then I returned to wake Marcus.
Serafina 16
Once inside his room I checked myself in the mirror. I straightened my top and swished the floaty skirt. How did teenage girls stand? I tried a hand on my hip. I tried lifting up my chin with my eyes downcast. I tried a twirl. I knew how to do a twirl, but it wasn’t very humany.
What else? Make-up! I didn’t have any, but nevertheless I managed to effect a dark smudging around my eyes.
What sort of things did girls say? They commented on each other’s shoes. They said ‘Oh My God’ in lovely perky tones. I tried it out beneath my breath. They said ‘awesome’ and ‘totally’ and ‘so’ and ‘like’ and ‘yuk’ and ‘ta-da’. Well, I thought they did. I’d have a go.
I straightened my shoulders. You can do this, Serafina, I told myself.
All a-tremble I turned to Marcus. My heart beating wildly, my throat like I’d swallowed the entire Sinai desert. I pursed my lips, tried a smile, let shimmering glory glow around me. ‘Yuk’, that was so angelly. Got rid of the shimmering glory. It was so scary. I glanced at the clock. If I carried on dithering there’d be no time left.
This was it.
‘Awake, dear one,’ I breathed. I stood over him. I blew two fiery kisses, one for each closed eyelid. He stirred. He turned. He opened his eyes. He stretched his arms.
‘Ouch,’ he said.
I smiled my most radiant smile to date. It was hotter than a thousand suns; starlight danced in my eyes, roses bloomed on my lips.
He coughed. He coughed and coughed. He carried on coughing. At last he muttered, ‘Oh Hell.’
It seemed a strange greeting. I stopped, bewildered. I’d never tried to have a relationship with a human being before.
His arms were still outstretched. Unable to restrain myself I closed my eyes, and leaned forward. I felt his heart beating; felt his bodily reality so near, felt my heart pounding, my pulse racing. And as he closed his arms around me (well, closed his arms. Not exactly around me, because I’m not of the same ether), I imagined the fierce touch of his skin. I imagined the way he’d tighten and tighten his embrace, his muscles crushing me to him.
I opened my eyes and looked up into his.
His face was grey and strained.
‘Marcus?’ I whispered.
He closed his eyes.
I waited. When he opened his eyes again and reached for a tumbler of water, I waved a tiny fingery wave in front of his face. ‘Marcus?’
He ignored me.
I frowned, puzzled. I tried again: the kisses, the smile; I skipped the imagined hello hug and the Heavenly crushing and made the finger wave much more haughty, an angelic summoning.
He missed my smile.
He didn’t notice the angelic command.
He was oblivious to everything.
My heart stopped. I grew cold all over. Something had changed.
Marcus couldn’t see me.
I took a step back. Confused. I didn’t get it. The night before last, he’d seen me. He’d winked at me, for Heaven’s sake. It’d been a sign. I knew it had. It was one of the reasons I’d broken all the Rules for him.
Our destinies were entwined.
They had to be.
I flumped down on the chair. Now what was I going to do? Why couldn’t he see me any more? There must be a reason.
I tried to remember everything I’d ever learned at Early Years Angel Academy in the junior section of the Cloisters, but honestly that was aeons ago, and I couldn’t remember much. I’d probably been too busy passing notes or worrying about getting on the swim team (not easy for us fiery angels). Though now I came to think of it, I did sort of vaguely remember something about angels appearing in their true glory to humans at near-death moments.
I made my mind go back, until I actually remembered the textbook. It’d been written by one of the visiting apostles who’d made the study of angels his afterlife’s work. I recalled the actual page: 70.
101 Curious Facts About Angels
75. Angels appear in their true glory to humans at near-death moments.
76. Angels appear in their true glory during the actual instant of Passing Over.
77. Angels appear in their true glory at their own demise.
78. Angels appear in their true glory at their own volition through a process called apparitioning.
That was it! That’s why he’d seen me. It hadn’t been an omen or anything extra-ordinary or destined. Just the same old near-death stuff. My shoulders slumped. I felt very small and very miserable and very stupid.
You see, I had to talk to him, and short of taking him to the point of death again, there was obviously only one other way to do it. I sighed. My shoulders sank even lower. My feathers drooped. I was going to have to break more rules. I was going to have to apparition.
Apparitioning, except on Heavenly busine
ss and on express commission from the Senior Team, is forbidden. Plus it’s risky. It means stepping into semi-human form with all its frailties. You’re really vulnerable when you do that. What if a bus hit you? Imagine the problems that’d cause for the Senior Team.
But as I contemplated it, I saw its advantages too. A real body, well, very nearly real. One realm closer. What would it feel like? A hand I could hold Marcus’s with, sort of – even if it felt a bit funny. And the fact that I’d had always secretly wanted to do it.
But there was no getting round it being forbidden. I’d have to take all the responsibility for doing it myself. But I had Free Will, didn’t I? And my intentions were pure. And actually I didn’t care what the Senior Team thought. Marcus had seen me. It had been an omen. We were destined to be together. And I was going to save his soul even if I had to break the Rules to do it.
So I did it.
I apparitioned, right there and then, right in front of Marcus. Like I said, I’d never actually done it before, so that’s why it was a bit sudden and clumsy. Probably next time I might want to do it more slowly, with fade in and out effects, rather than atomic-bomb style. But I wanted to hang on to the amazing smile with the stardust in my eyes impression – and it was kind of tricky.
I guess I was pretty ‘awesome’. (Although I was a bit disappointed with the texture of the body. It didn’t feel quite right. It still didn’t have that ‘totally human feel’ I’d expected.)
But I did it, and I was proud of myself. I looked eagerly at Marcus to see his reaction.
Oops.
His face had blanched. He’d gone completely grey beneath his skin. He closed his eyes and clutched his chest. Perhaps I’d overdone the sparkling aspect. A nearby monitor started bleeping very worryingly. I crossed the room and looked at it – tried to turn it off – couldn’t work it out – so I raised my hand and said a quick Our Father over it. That shut it up.
The bleeping stopped. I looked again at Marcus. He squeezed his eyes. The look on his face was peculiar, almost as if he were in pain. (You know, I really should have practised a bit first.) He closed his mouth and twisted his lips. His breath grew shallow (I think he was blaspheming). He spread his arms forward and got hold of the steel supports on either side of the bed.
‘Hello?’ I said.
‘Hel-lo,’ he gasped back.
‘Did I overdo it?’ I asked, a bit worried.
He shook his head. I think he didn’t want to upset me. He tried to smile. He looked at the bottle of pills beside his bed. He looked up at the drip going into his arm. He looked at the machine that had stopped bleeping. He looked at me.
‘Are you for real?’ he croaked.
I laughed. He looked so cute. ‘Of course,’ I said.
He blinked. ‘Like really?’
‘Would you like me to prove it?’ I asked.
He just stared at me, eyes round as saucers.
‘I can do a twirl,’ I said. ‘Just watch this.’
‘A twirl?’ he whispered.
‘Exactly,’ I said. And then I twirled. It was the best twirl I’d ever done. I was faster than the mightiest maelstrom ever. All the machines in the room started beeping and I swear even the walls rattled.
I looked at Marcus to see what he thought. He looked like he was about to choke, maybe cough again. Then suddenly he kind of snorted. Finally he laughed. Well, coughed and laughed. He wiped his eyes on his hospital gown, dabbed blood off his lips and sighed like he’d understood something. (There was nothing actually that funny.) ‘What do you do for an encore?’ he said.
He’d laughed. I’d just apparitioned in all my glory, in defiance of Heaven, to save him. I’d done my best-ever twirl and he’d laughed. A blaze of hot indignation swept over me. I think I quite forgot myself.
He wanted me to prove myself? OK, he could have the full works. With a flash of my eyes thunder rolled in the distance. A sheet of ice crusted over the window. Flames leapt from the palms of my hands. I unfurled my wings (all six). I beat the air and made ready to sound trumpets.
Marcus struggled into a sitting position.
At once I saw the pain he was in. His flawless lips were driven quite pallid with the effort. His brow knitted up and tiny beads of sweat broke out along it. An understanding seemed to register in his eyes. ‘You really ARE real?’ he stammered.
He looked about ready to pass out.
‘It’s really you? You’re back?’
Instantly I stopped all the theatrics. I crossed to his bedside and laid a hand on his.
‘I thought it was the morphine,’ he said.
I let the Balm of Paradise flow through my fingers, and the Stars of Heaven shine in my smile. His brow relaxed, his breathing became less laboured. I relaxed too – for touching him sent the oddest sensation into me, as if I’d been the one in pain – and by touching him my aching had been healed.
‘Have you come to take me?’ he said, a curious vulnerability in his voice.
I stood there, dazed, beside him. So strange, this touching. And yet I wasn’t truly corporeal at all.
I shook my head gently.
‘OK,’ he said. He clutched at his chest in a fresh spasm of pain. ‘Sorry, I didn’t rate the twirling. I thought I was seeing things.’
‘Oh,’ I said.
‘It was a bit showy, though,’ he whispered. ‘You didn’t need to try that hard – you’ve already got the advantage.’ He closed his eyes and laid his head back on the pillow.
I kept my hand on his, marvelling at the feeling it gave me.
‘So?’ He feebly tried to smile up at me.
‘I’ve come to save your soul,’ I said, getting straight to the point. (I was quite proud of myself for that.)
‘You’ve come to save my soul?’ he repeated.
Right, this was it. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Your soul’s in danger.’
Marcus struggled up a bit and raised his hand in a stop sign. ‘Please,’ he whispered. ‘Man knows you saved me – and I owe you – and man’s really grateful. But Angel – it’s just not that easy.’
Well, I wasn’t giving up. I drew in a deep breath. ‘I know what you said.’ I smiled in what I hoped was an encouraging way. ‘And I think it took great courage to say it – and the reasons you gave were honourable.’ I must make every word count, however pompous I sounded.
‘And it was your very honesty and integrity, how you said, your heart had to be in it; how you averred you couldn’t lie – not about something like that – that persuaded me to keep on trying.’ I kept my voice steady. ‘But I believe once you fully understand the peril you’re in, you’ll think differently and change your mind.’
There was a silence.
Finally Marcus spoke. ‘The trouble is,’ he said, ‘if you repent you have to make a change, don’t you?’
‘Definitely,’ I said. ‘It means you can make a fresh start and live in a new way without sin.’
‘That’s the problem.’
‘You don’t wish to change your sinful ways?’ I said, alarmed. ‘Even though you may lose your soul to the fires of Hell?’
‘Even if I wanted to, I can’t,’ said Marcus sadly. There was a very final note in his voice.
I was astonished. How was that? Surely that was the whole point of Free Will. He could choose to change – especially if he wanted to.
‘You don’t understand,’ he said. ‘Other people depend on me. If I don’t bring in the Ps the mortgage won’t get paid, Jasmine won’t go to college, my nan won’t get her care-home costs met . . .’ He tried to give me a What-the-Hell smile. ‘And that’s just the simple end of it.’
I opened my mouth to speak. I closed it again.
‘Once you’re in,’ he said, ‘I mean in a gang, you can’t just leave.’ He coughed.
This was a new complication. Nobody ever told me about being trapped in a life of crime . . .
‘It’s all about the money, Angel,’ he said.
Instantly I knew I was out of my depth. Money
is not something we deal with in Heaven. I’d have to think about this. No wonder it was called the Root of all Evil.
Marcus must have seen my face fall for he tried to smile again and said, ‘But if you want me to give it a go, don’t let man put you off. I could try.’
I would not be put off. I’d go for an entirely different tack – an angle I felt much more confident in. ‘Surely you desire salvation?’ I started. Didn’t everyone?
Marcus rallied a little, as if he liked a good discussion. ‘Forget salvation,’ he said. ‘Life’s for living, not creeping around afraid of your own shadow, or thinking about what comes after.’
I looked at him startled – stunned even. Forget salvation?
‘But aren’t you afraid of death?’ I asked. This was possibly my strongest argument.
‘No,’ he said. ‘What’s the point? Why waste time on it?’ He tried a smile. ‘Life’s too short.’
‘But isn’t that the point?’ I said. If life was too short, then death was to be feared.
‘Fear’s dumb – who wants to live a boring life?’
I could hardly believe my ears. Was he teasing me? ‘Then what of demons?’ I cried. I’d have him there.
Marcus laughed at that – or tried to. His laugh became another coughing fit. ‘Demons?’ He opened his eyes, a little bit of colour returned to his cheek. ‘You really haven’t got a clue, have you?’
I thought of their oily presence, their foul smell. I was on home territory. I did have a clue. I knew a lot about demons.
‘You know something?’ Marcus reached for a tissue and wiped more blood off his lips. ‘I think when they learn what I can do, demons might actually be afraid of me.’
My eyebrows shot up.
There was noise outside. A trolley was turning into the corridor.
Not afraid of death? Not afraid of demons? How was I going to convince him of anything?
‘You’re sure you really are here?’ queried Marcus suddenly. ‘Not some kind of hallucination?’
This was going to be a lot harder than I thought. Much harder.
The trolley rattled nearer. Someone might come in at any moment.