by Shel Delisle
“I’m getting a lot of studying done and don’t want to lose my place.”
“Okay.” Mrs. Murphy says. “Just let us know when you want to take a break.”
As I close my door, I overhear Mrs. Murphy say to her husband, “Things must be so different in Montana. Can you imagine Tara studying on a Friday night?”
It’s weird that it’s still Friday. I check on Tara and she’s on the phone with Lacey—still. She hollers, “Check it out!” and points to her TV, which shows images of the insane lightning event from earlier.
I say, “Yeah. Fierce,” then close her door and re-freeze time. Time for Chapter 11—Repercussions.
Repercussions are the effects of bad judgment by Guardians. Think of dominoes aligned with precision. With one push, they begin to drop onto each other. The aftermath is a chain of fallen pieces. This is typically how a Mission ends with Repercussions. Let us examine one of the most well-known cases. In May of 1937, the Hindenburg was readying for its return flight…
Uh-oh! Why didn’t anyone warn me about this? If I’d done this like everyone else, I would have learned it in school before I ever went on a Mission. The chapter goes on to explain how the airship crashed and burned, killing passengers. It had no wings, but surely the Guardian did. Yeah, I need to read the rest of this chapter closely. And take notes.
}{
Some time later, with the clock reading 8:14, I finish the first textbook—even the Chapter on Guardian problems. I place the text into the black briefcase and glance at my notes, where I jotted:
Assignments get more challenging with seniority!!!
Really? Tara seems plenty tough to me. That means Victor and Aisha have more to deal with. I’ve been so focused on my Mission and my wings, I never thought about what they were going through. Aisha even said something about how difficult her Mission was this time. How senior are they?
She’s stressed. I see it now. She’s probably worried about Repercussions. And Victor is on Probation like me. At least I know why Michael put me on Probation. The book said there are several reasons for Probation that “stem from a demonstrated disregard for angelic behavior.” Number one—consistent and repetitive breaking of the rules, or number two—no remorse when breaking the rules or violating the Angelic Code of Conduct. Other mistakes are forgiven. Pretty sure I’m a number-one scenario. I haven’t even seen the conduct code.
The only half-good thing I learned about Probation is that Wilhelm had been too. Twice. I don’t feel good that he was on Probation, but if he wrote the book and could still redeem himself, then there’s hope for me.
I make a vow to Aisha, Mercy, Michael and even The Big Kahuna, “I promise to try harder and do my best.” Wilhelm said, “That’s usually enough to get the job done.”
}{
On Sunday morning, I tap lightly on Finn’s door before opening it up a crack. “Hey,” I whisper. “Can I visit?”
Finn turns his back to me but doesn’t say no, so I steal into the room and stand inside the door. I’ve seen his airplane room so many times, but it’s the first time it hits me—Finn wants to fly. Like me. But today, he’s lying on his bed, playing with his ratty stuffed Flying Ace Snoopy.
I walk over to the bookshelf and hold up one of the model planes. “Cool.”
Finn looks at me, but doesn’t answer. When I put it back on the shelf, I notice the Barbie with light brown hair. Angel Barbie. Me.
Guilt grips me.
Finn watches me as I pick up the doll. “You’re like Tara and Lacey. You think I’m a baby and you don’t want to be my friend anymore.” He tilts his head down, sucking his thumb.
“That’s not true.” I ease next to him on the bed and give Snoopy a pat. “But I was mean. It didn’t have anything to do with you. I was just feeling bad and sad and took it out on you. It wasn’t fair. Or nice.”
He raises his head a little and shifts closer but keeps his back to me.
“So, I tried to think of a way to make up.” When I say make up, Finn finally faces me. “And I think I can help you stop sucking your thumb.”
His face grows red and angry. “See? That’s what I mean! You think I’m a baby just like Tara.”
“No. I never thought you were a baby. But I know you want to stop, right?”
Finn hesitates. “Right.”
“I saw on the internet that mittens would help.” I dig in the back pocket of my jean shorts. “I was pretty sure you didn’t have any. I mean, when would you use them in Florida? But lucky for me, I brought one. Ta-da.” I wave a fuzzy black glove at him.
Finn takes his thumb out of his mouth. “Did you make that with magic?”
In My Life as a Guardian, Wilhelm explained the principles behind re-shaping matter. It’s still a little hazy to me, but the important thing was I realized I’d already done it with the clover. It’s pretty advanced. Like when Victor showed me bi-location and size shifting and I did them on the first try. I’m gifted at practical applications, even if I don’t know all the theory behind it. And maybe that’s why The Chief gave me a Mission. He already knew that about me.
It might even be why he gave me a Guardian. But I still don’t understand why of all the possible Angels, it had to be Aisha with her bossy nature and her Victor-history and everything.
I hand the mitten to Finn. “Sort of,” I say. “But this mitten isn’t magic. You have to wear it. Go ahead. Put it on.”
He takes it and wriggles fingers into it.
“Now, suck your thumb.”
Finn makes a skeptical face, but sticks his thumb in his mouth, then coughs and thrusts his tongue out. There’s a piece of black fuzz stuck to it and he wipes it with his gloveless hand.
I wasn’t sure I should manifest this mitten for him out of the wool from my Catholic uniform knee socks. I mean, the last time I performed a miracle like this, it caused problems. Big problems. It seemed easy enough to do—just adding an extra piece—really very similar to the clover. But the idea of Repercussions made me squeamish. While I’d stared at the sock, I wondered, Is this part of my Mission? What if Tara sees Finn differently if he stops the thumb-sucking? What if she treats him differently? It was enough to convince me.
“What do you think of the gloves?” I ask Finn.
He beams a wide smile, teeth jutting every which way from the thumb-sucking. “It’s good.”
I smile too. Tears prick my eyes. This is the most angelic thing I’ve ever done.
Truly.
Interim Report
AIT: Grace Lightbourne Vocation: Guardian
Grading Scale
W = Wings: Performance at Full Angel level
T = Trainee: Performance at AIT level
C = Celestial Being: Performance below AIT level
O = Wingless One: Failure to perform
* * *
Category: Powers
Mastery of Basic: W
Performance of Advanced: W
Appropriate Usage: C
Notes: Exceptional power. Focus on usage. Several instances of misuse/abuse. Should avoid ANY creation of storms in the future!
Time bending in moderation ONLY!
* * *
Category : Vocation Specific
Mastery of Job Basics: C
Comprehension of Job Function: T
Application of the Rules: O
Notes: A greater respect for the rules will improve performance in all areas.
Category : Angelic Behavior
Study Habits: O+
Display of Virtues (patient, humble, compassionate): T
Desire, Drive: W
Notes: Recent improvement in study habits with completion of first textbook. Good job!
Accomplishments: Grace had made progress in an unusual classroom setting.
Areas of Concern: Grace is on Probation for rule violations. She needs to use greater discretion at ALL times. Recent Infraction: Phone conversation in front of the Human Finn. Power Misuse and Abus
e Infractions: Using time bending to catch-up on studies. Despite the favorable outcome, it’s a misuse of power. Creation of violent storm in anger. Bi-location to comfort a Human not part of the Mission.
Report by: Archangel Michael
Chapter 18
The interim report was a shocker. Michael made it clear that I’m still an AIT, just studying in a different way. Off-campus or home schooling. Whatever you want to call it, I’m still learning. But, feeling saintly after giving Finn the mitten, I decided to study. Without even freezing time. That report card won’t pull me down.
I’ve already read three chapters when Tara and Finn appear in my doorway, I’m sitting on the bed, knees propped up. Understanding Humans by Sophia rests against my thighs.
“Time for a break.” Tara waves a DVD case at me. “Here’s the famous movie you’ve never heard of.”
Ever so discreetly, I move the book to the side of the bed farthest from the door. To hide the title. “What is it?”
Finn smiles broadly. “The Wizard of Oz. It’s our favorite.”
Tara is smiling too. “Okay. Here’s the deal. It’s retro and so dorky that it’s cool. But I couldn’t believe when you didn’t even know about it. Living in Montana must be like living in a cave.” She smiles, and I know she’s only teasing. “You’re on Team Oz, so you gotta see it. Besides, I always thought there was some kind of law that you have to watch this movie.”
It’s not on my list of rules, but doesn’t break any either. “Sounds good,” I say.
So, I curl up on the couch while Tara makes popcorn and Finn drags the beanbag for two into the den. When she walks in from the kitchen, Finn pats the beanbag. “Sit here, Tara.”
She’s staring at his mitten. “What’s that on your hand?”
“Grace gave it to me. It makes me not suck my thumb.”
“Finn! I’m so proud of you! Here, Grace, you sit next to Finn.” She lies down on the carpet next to us and we hand the popcorn back and forth as the movie starts.
When it gets to the part where Dorothy sings “Somewhere over the Rainbow,” Tara sings along in a voice like crystal, clear and bright.
When the song finishes, I place my hand on my heart. “Your voice is incredible. How come you don’t take chorus?”
“That would damn me to Eternal Geekdom.”
I want to tell her there are worse places you could end up, but just laugh. “Hey! I’m in that class.”
“Sorry. But that’s you. Besides, everyone expects exchange students to be a little off.”
She must really love to sing. Otherwise she wouldn’t have done it. But she’s not afraid of impressing us or afraid that we’ll make fun of her. “Don’t you know that when you’re meant to do something, it’s wrong—I mean, wrong—not to do it?”
Tara snorts, then pauses. “Really? You think it’s wrong?”
My own words echo in my head. Like all the time I spent avoiding homework. Like Aisha being my Guardian, even though I don’t want her to be. She has to do it.
I nod. “I think probably.”
Then Tara confesses, “I’ve never sung in front of Lacey. I’ve always been afraid she’d think it was stupid… or think I was stupid.”
“Well, I think it’s beautiful.”
}{
On the TV screen, Dorothy is swept away by a tornado that has nothing on the storm I created the night Aisha and I fought. Then she’s plopped into a strange and wonderful place and tells her little doggy, “I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”
Kinda like me.
Finn passes me the popcorn and asks me, “Is that how you got here—a flying house?”
Tara ruffles his hair. “C’mon, Finn. You know better. She took a plane, like all that flying stuff in your room.”
Finn smiles broadly and then makes a zip-his-lips motion with the mitten. As a glowing orb floats across the screen, growing larger and larger, he shakes my arm like crazy with his wooly hand. “Watch this! Watch this part! Get it?” He looks at me with an earnest expression. A woman in a very puffy-ish dress emerges. It seems like now he might think that’s how I got here.
Awwww. I remind him of the good witch?
We watch the rest of the movie. Every corny, thrilling, scary moment of it. I have to admit, I feel a little bad for the Wicked Witch of the West, even though she’s mean and ugly. I mean, Dorothy did kill her sister and everything. Yes, I get it was an accident. She should have forgiven Dorothy. But shouldn’t someone forgive her grief and the fact that she wanted her sister’s shoes? They were extremely cool shoes; anybody would want them. And then, when she left the message with the broom, she didn’t even say You are so dead or anything. Just, Surrender Dorothy.
Still, the part of the movie that really sticks with me is how everyone wants something. Brains. A heart. Like the way I want my damn—pardon my language—wings.
}{
Ever since The Miracle of The Mitten—why do I always perform miracles for Finn?—and our home movie date with The Wizard of Oz, I feel like I finally started my journey on the Yellow Brick Road. Today is one more point of interest on the journey when Victor takes charge at the first meeting for Team Oz.
It might be because he’s a natural leader with that quarterback-thing. Or it might be that his taking charge is part of some divine plan.
But most likely it’s because he’s so incredibly good-looking.
He mesmerizes us. Because, well, more than three quarters of our team is female.
To start the meeting, he sits on top of the teacher’s desk and smiles at the twenty or so of us who have taken desks around the room. “Okay. The activities this year are hall decoration, float, Skit Night and Field Day. Let’s divide up and put someone in charge of each. I’m good at athletics, so I’ll take Field Day.” He pauses on my face long enough to give me an extra eye twinkle.
Everyone nods good idea, especially the girls. Especially Lacey.
See, but here’s the thing. I refuse to twinkle back at him, even if he does look really nice in those plaid shorts and a washed-out yellow tee that brings out the sun-flecks in his hair and make his tan and brown eyes look even richer. Because he blew me off and never talked to me about Probation. He thought Aisha was no big deal.
I may not be tossing lightning bolts around, but I’m still holding it against him. A little. I smile tenderly at him sans twinkle.
He sits back, looking perplexed, and raps his pencil on the notepad. “Next. Do we have anyone even a little bit—” Victor holds his forefinger a miniscule space from his thumb, “—artistic?”
Definitely not me. Truly. I’m not even trying to wiggle out of this. Artistic didn’t appear on my strengths list from Michael. I breathe a sigh of relief when a tall girl at the back of the room raises her hand.
“I’m in AP art, so I guess I’m pretty good.”
“Great. What’s your name?
“Madison.”
Victor writes this onto a yellow pad. “Thanks Madison. Anyone else?”
No one speaks up.
“Madison is now officially in charge of design for hall and float. Can we build the float at your house?”
She starts to respond. I mean, really, she’s just opening her mouth, but before she can speak, Lacey interrupts. “I volunteer my house. We have a huge three-car garage and the ceiling is…” She waves a hand high over her head.
“Vaulted,” Tara says.
“Right. Vaulted.” Lacey gives her hair the trademark flip. “I know my parents would be cool with it… unless, I mean, unless you really wanted to build it at your house?” She gives Madison a huge, toothy smile that’s as fake as my eyelashes from CVS.
“No. That’s fine. I was going to say we’d need to find another place,” Madison replies.
Victor makes another note on his pad. “Thank you, Lacey, and I think we can probably find a spot here at school to work on the hall decorations, which just leave Skit Night. I nominate Dude Cody Vaughn to be in cha
rge of that.”
Nobody objects or anything, and Cody turns about five shades of red.
Then, Victor splits everyone up, pointing as he speaks. “That corner will be for hall and float with Lacey and Madison. Up here by me for Field Day. Cody, you take that area for Skit Night.”
A part of me would like to go with Victor. My special abilities did say I’m athletic, but the other part knows I need to stay with my Mission. Bi-location is completely out of the question. Tara is already headed over to claim the spot on the right side of Lacey, so I join her. We seem to have the biggest group of kids… about ten, including me and Aisha. Can’t I get away from her? I’m just thankful Victor didn’t put me in charge of anything.
Madison throws out her first idea for the hall, where we make the floor look like the yellow brick road… even I could have come up with that design, and I spy Victor out of the corner of my eye heading over.
Finally. He’s going to ask me to move to his Field Day group, where I belong. But instead, he taps Tara on the shoulder. “Hey! Could you help out on Skit Night? Cody needs one more.”
I could have sworn he was going to ask me.
Tara picks up her purse, makes a sad face at Lacey and then taps me on the shoulder. “Let me know how the rest of this one goes.”
My gaze follows her as she walks over to Cody’s small group across the room. When she sits down, Cody smiles at Tara, and it’s not his usual sweet one. It’s got a little of Victor’s mischief in it. He’s flirting with her. That’s so cute!
My thoughts are interrupted by Aisha saying, “Right, Grace?”
“Huh?” Everyone is looking at me waiting for an answer.
Aisha shakes her head, her braids swaying. She gives a hearty har-har fake-friendly shoulda-been-on-pirate-team laugh. “I was just saying you and I would team up to get the supplies. Madison is keeping a list of what we’ll need.”
Why hast thou forsaken me in my hour of need?