by Shel Delisle
I look up again and amid the cables and spotlights, the shape moves into view. Wings! And not just any wings—enormous, incredible, impressive wings. There’s only one angel strong enough to carry the weight of those. Michael.
Thank God,” I whisper, and then the wings are gone.
Chapter 25
After the dance, Aisha is missing. She took off after Lacey. Her Assignment needs her. Lacey that is—not me.
Victor and I, along with everyone else from the dance, hang outside the River of Grass Rec Center. He links his arm through mine. Cody and Tara are cuddled up next to us like they’re slow-dancing or something while we wait for her parents to pick us up. Every so often, they can’t help themselves and start kissing.
This place holds so many memories for me: marvel upon my arrival, anger during my fight with Aisha, unity when teaming up with her and Victor to finally get the job done.
So, that’s it. I finished my Mission. Avoided Repercussions. Will it be enough to earn my wings?
Victor leans over, his lips inches from my forehead. What would they have felt like if Aisha had never opened the closet door? “Thanks again.” I sigh.
He smiles. “You’re welcome. And now, your promise?”
I spy the Murphys’ car as it crawls forward through the line. My promise? How about my escape?
Time alone with Victor is like a math equation. Two-thirds scary plus one-third thrilling equals three thirds of confusion.
Confession: Math has never been my favorite subject.
When the car pulls up next to us, Mrs. Murphy powers down her window and says, “Did you have a good time, girls?”
Without looking at her Mom, Tara says “Uh-huh,” gives Cody a twinkly look and climbs into the backseat.
I start to follow her, but Victor clasps my hand tightly and whispers, “Please wait.” He makes a sound almost like a hiccup. “Trust me.”
I want to, but I’m not sure I trust myself. When I nod, he links his arm with mine, leans into the car and says to Mr. Murphy, “So what did you think of the game last night?”
Do they ever think of anything but football?
“Well, the outcome was never in doubt,” Mr. Murphy says. “You had total control.”
It’s so weird that this is how males bond. Victor’s hand trails down my arm and reaches my wrist. “I thought so too, but you can never take a triumph for granted.”
All of a sudden, it doesn’t seem like Victor is talking about football.
Victor presses a finger against my palm and then laces his fingers with mine. “I’d like your permission, sir, to bring Grace home. I know she’s heading back to Montana soon, and we won’t have many chances to spend time together.”
Mr. Murphy studies Victor’s face, then looks at Mrs. Murphy and says, “I guess that’ll be all right. She needs to be home no later than midnight.”
Oh! It sounded blissful—flying over the ocean with Victor. But with that curfew, it’s not meant to be. We have about an hour together.
Victor gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, sir.”
“Have fun, sweetie,” Mrs. Murphy says. I lean forward to say thanks and Mrs. Murphy whispers, “I know no one says it, but he’s a hunk.”
She’s got that right!
I give Tara a little wave. She grins at me from the backseat and then they drive away.
Victor wraps his arm around my shoulder, leading me away from the entrance toward the garden. “Ready to go see the sun rise?”
It’s a crazy-romantic thing for him to say.
“Uh, my curfew is midnight.”
“That won’t stop us. We’re Angels.”
I nibble my lip. Victor just called me an Angel, which technically is so not true, but it was a really nice thing for him to say. I smile. “Yeah, but we can’t mess with God’s creation. It’s one of the rules Michael gave me. I bet it’s one of yours too.” We stop by the cluster of palms where I arrived the first day.
“Who said anything about messing with Earth?” And with that, Victor places his hand over my heart, there’s a blink and…
}{
We’re standing at a spot on the beach under an identical cluster of coconut palms.
So, that’s how I got here. Tree portals. It makes more sense than Lacey’s hall closet.
It’s breezy tonight. The fronds lift and blow west. The ocean churns. Waves roll and make crashing sounds. Not in a threatening way. The rhythm is almost like a lullaby. Or a heartbeat. Moonlight reflects off the sand and sea, so we sit and watch the stars.
Victor holds my hand, palm up and traces a line along each of my fingers. It’s soft and nice and—a little unnerving. Then his hand barely hints at a touch along my cheek and jaw and neck and collarbone and ear. I tremble.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve met an Angel like you,” Victor says.
It’s almost word for word what he said in the closet. Is Cherish the last? The scene from Aisha’s memory was practically ancient history. I blush, then blurt, “How long?”
“Too long…” Victor’s voice trails off like he wanted to say more.
One thing about him has been bugging me and I’m afraid to ask, but I plunge ahead anyway. “You know, there have been times when you ignored me or blew me off or whatever, and I don’t get it.”
Victor eyes widen. “When?”
“When you gave out assignments for Team Oz—you moved Tara and not me. Or after the football field message, when you sent me to find Aisha and didn’t really help me. Why?”
He smiles. “I had a Mission too, you know?”
Ohhhh… yeah. Duh.
“I’ve been doing this so long,” he continues while running a finger along my arm, “that sometimes I forget what that first Mission is like—how alone you can feel. I didn’t mean to leave you behind.”
“I get it now. If it wasn’t my first, I probably would have realized right away that you were at work.”
“I think it’s great that I met you before you even finished training. You remind me of how much fun it can be to be a Guardian. After a while, it all starts to feel the same. For a change, I’ve been able to see Earth and our job through your eyes. It’s made everything… fresh.”
My tongue feels like it’s been tied to the roof of my mouth. I want to reply but can’t.
Victor squeezes my hand. “Because I’ve done this so long, I also know you’ll be reascended very soon. This might be our last chance…” His voice trails off again.
“Will you be going home too?” An almost-Angel can hope.
“Nah, I’m a senior, so I have to stay behind and keep my cover.” He takes both of my hands into his. “I’ll just have to suffer through some cheeseburgers at The Jukebox and the Worthy Idols concert. It’s tough, but someone’s got to do it,” he says in a voice laced with pretend suffering.
I laugh. Staying behind with no Mission to worry about sounds heavenly, but if Victor is right about reascension, it won’t be an option for me. “Who are you going to take to the concert?” I keep my voice playful, but really do want to know.
He teases too. “Maybe Aisha if she’s nice to me. Or Cody. I wanted to take you. A concert would make your heart race.”
Thump, thump. You make my heart race.
“There’ll be another time. Our Missions will overlap again. I’ll make sure of it.” Victor sounds convinced of this. He stands and holds his hand out to help me up, then brushes invisible sand from his pants. “So, sunrise?”
My smile feels lopsided. “Sure,” I tease. “And how are you going to do that? Is this some power I don’t know about yet?”
“Nope. You know about it. You just haven’t thought of using it like this.” He lightly outlines a circle on my forehead. Standing tall, he gazes skyward, and his wings sprout from his shoulders.
It takes my breath away. This is the third time he’s done this—at the football field, at the dance and now. Don’t think I’ll ever get used
to it. My hand reaches toward the wing on his right. “May I?”
Victor smirks and turns around, giving me the full effect of his span. I smooth each wing with flat palms from his shoulders to the tips which end near his knees. In-splendid-credible. Soft, and yet you can feel the strength underneath the feathers.
He turns back around, and the smirk is gone. Now he’s got a serene half-smile. It’s the one that reminds me of Renaissance paintings. The Michelangelo version of Victor. Then, without a word, he wraps his arm around my waist, tucking me close, and we lift up and skim over the incoming waves.
He flies so low that the ocean mists my face. So fast that the movement of the swells in the water crawl toward the shore. Victor’s cheek meets mine as we speed east.
“Don’t let go,” I say.
Because I won’t.
The world around us stops—or at least appears to as we rush onward. This flight feels more like a race, less floaty and cozy. The wind as we fly whips my hair behind me. Totally extreme.
We’re moving so fast that the edge of the horizon curves slightly, dipping to an area right around the bend, and I notice the weirdest thing. The sky around us is lightening. It’s less inky, and the stars have faded.
Then, without warning, it happens. The sun bursts out of the sea like a flower. It’s fully risen in mere moments. Victor stops and does loop-de-loops, hovering. We must be almost to Europe.
“Now, how good is that?” His lips brush my ears as he whispers. “You got to see the sunrise with me, and all before your midnight curfew.” He swoops as he says this, and I swoon.
“It’s good,” is all I can think to say.
We float around for a few more moments. Then Victor faces westward and we fly with all haste, the sun chasing but nowhere close to catching us. As the Florida coast creeps into view, Victor slows to something less than light speed and lands on the shore so gently, I hardly realize my feet are on the ground. I turn to face him and he embraces me.
“I’m going to miss you, but I did keep my promise, right?”
“Yeah, you did. And I’m going to miss you too.” My eyes well. “I’m even going to miss Aisha.” I chuff a laugh that’s funny and painful.
Victor reaches over his shoulder, tugs, grimaces, then offers one of his feathers to me. It has a long quill with a beautiful, iridescent plume at the end. “Write to me, huh?”
Gently, I take this piece of Victor. “I’m not even good at writing A-mail,” I say. “I, um, tend to procrastinate.”
Victor laughs and envelops me. “You’ve gotten better about the procrastination thing. And if you don’t feel like writing, just ring me up on the cell.”
“Thanks—” I wave the plume like a fan, “—for this.”
It’s this horribly awkward moment, where neither of us knows what to say. Can we keep time like this? I’ll never miss my curfew. I want so much to stay with him that I don’t even care about my wings. My insides feel hollow, my eyes heavy. I nibble on my lip.
Victor leans in, bends over and kisses me, soft as one of his feathers.
}{
Finn screams hysterically as we speed over bumps on a beat-up burlap bag, racing Tara and Cody down the super slide at St. Jude’s Annual Carnival. He and I have gone on every single ride that simulates flying: swings that spin out at wild angles, chairs that lift you slowly and drop you to Earth, a huge Egyptian-looking boat that rockets to heights almost vertical if you sit in the back—and we did.
It’s all been a blast, but none of it compares to my flight with Victor. The kiss: heavenly. Later, when I checked my cell, there was a message from Michael that had to come at the exact moment of the kiss. “It’s time for you to come home…” his tone wasn’t angry like other calls, but it dripped with disappointment, “…before you can have any more distractions.” Yeah. He was talking about Victor. How can something that feels right be wrong?
When we reach the bottom, I suggest to Finn, “Let’s do something slower.”
He grins, grabs my hand and we head over to the merry-go-round. This one is full-sized and unbroken. A toothless old carnie with spotlessly clean hands and nails smiles sweetly at me and then winks. Winks? Hmm, is that?
Just before the curve ahead of us, on two pink horses, are Coach Vaughn and Ms. Sands. They smile at each other and chat. As I boost Finn onto a blue horse, Tara and Cody walk by.
“Victor just gave us his tickets to the Worthy Idols concert,” Tara gushes. “Can you believe it? He said he had no one to take.”
“It’s totally miraculous, man.” Cody shakes his head in disbelief.
Cody’s right about the miracle. It is. Victor really wanted to see that concert. “Awesome,” I say.
Tara climbs on a horse in front of me, and Cody stands beside her, his hand over hers on the pole.
Hi, Grace. I hear Victor’s voice in my head and spy his glorious being out along the fence that circles the ride. All day I’ve seen him at a distance, usually with Cody, usually when I’ve been riding with Finn and can’t reach him. He might be avoiding me or working on his mission. In a way, I’ve been avoiding him too. After he hooks my attention, he waves and then points at Tara and Cody.
Cody has his hand on Tara’s back, but he’s watching his dad and Ms. Sands. When his dad leans over to give Ms. Sands a peck on the cheek, Cody smiles and kisses Tara on the nose.
Victor’s voice in my head whispers, Missions complete.
The carousel starts and we watch each other as he passes out of sight, but on the next time around he waves at me and my heart floats. Around again. He blows a kiss at me. I’m soaring. Truly. Around again, and he’s gone.
}{
There’s no crowd this time at the River of Grass Rec Center. Only me and the Murphys waiting for my charter bus back to Heaven… oops, I mean Montana. Finn has brought Pilot Snoopy with him for comfort and he clutches it tightly against his chest. He’s wearing his mitten too, for the first time in a couple of weeks. Tara is carrying a red and white gift bag with Emerald City green tissue paper flowers stuck into the top.
“I wish you didn’t have to go back early. It stinks—you were supposed to be here through Christmas.”
“The Old Man gets sentimental this time of year,” I say.
Mrs. Murphy rests her hand on my shoulder. “It would have been nice to have you, Grace. But we understand how you’re probably anxious to get home.” Her hand is comforting. Moms are comforting. They really ought to consider having an official Mom in Heaven.
“Here you go.” Tara holds the bag out to me. “So you remember us.”
In the bag is a set of Wizard of Oz Christmas tree ornaments and a DVD of the movie.
“It’s perfect,” I say, and my eyes fill up. Wilhelm never discussed goodbyes in the book.
Finn holds his worn Pilot Snoopy out to me. “I don’t need him anymore. I want you to have him.”
Now the tears spill over, and I hug Finn like I never want to let go.
“Are you sure?” I ask, and he only nods. “Well… thank you.” I wish I’d brought something for them. Then it hits me. “Wait,” I say, digging through the briefcase. “Here it is.” I lay the four-leaf clover into Finn’s hand. “Remember me, too.”
He grins from ear to ear. “I’m lucky!”
Mrs. Murphy looks up. “I think we all were.” She gives me a kiss and Mr. Murphy hugs me too.
Tara swipes at her own tears. “You’d better text me the minute you’re home safe.”
“I will,” I say as the bus pulls into the loop. The big bi-fold door sighs as it opens, and you’d never believe who the white-haired guy is behind the wheel. Yep. He must really be into driving.
Chapter 26
It feels so strange to knock on my own door.
Mercy peeks out and jumps up and down, squealing. “Oh Grace! I’m so excited to see you!”
She hugs me tight, twirls around and then pulls me into the room. It’s been expanded to hold three beds, three desks, thre
e dressers. Faith is sprawled on her bed, reading a book called Tips for Maintaining Order. She doesn’t look up.
“Hi. You must be Faith.” I plunk the hideous black briefcase at my feet.
She glances at the case. “That’s your dresser, and that’s your desk,” she says, pointing.
Well! Mercy said she was bossy, but I had no idea. At least this Mission has taught me to be the bigger person, to ignore the jibes. “You kept the room the same.” I motion like a hostess from an Earthly game show.
“Yeah. Faith thought it was nice,” Mercy smiles tightly at her replacement roommate. “And she said, what’s the point of changing it if you like it?”
Faith looks up from her book. “I never understood why the two of you did that weekly.”
“It keeps things exciting. It keeps you thinking about what to choose.” I fall onto my bed to test the bounciness. Comfy. “It’s so good to be home.”
“It’s good to see you too.” Mercy sits next to me. “So you succeeded?”
“Yep. Hey, do you mind?” I wave at our surroundings again. “I got some cool ideas while I was on Earth.”
Mercy grins. “I’d love a new décor, right, Faith? It’d be a nice way to welcome Grace and we’ve had this one for…” she exhales, “…a while.”
Faith rolls her eyes and sticks her nose back into her Making-The-Most-Of-Her-Bossiness book.
It might be cool to do a Yellow Brick Road thing. Maybe another day. In the blink of an eye, the room shifts to an Eastern theme, like Wan’s, complete with the cling-ping melody playing softly in the background. On my desk is an enormous tank holding an angel fish that swims in circles.
Faith looks bored, but Mercy says, “It’s so exotic. I love it!”
I take Victor’s plume from the briefcase and lay it on the shelf over my desk. Next is Pilot Snoopy. I set him down by the feather. Finally, I take out Tara’s gifts. I wave the DVD case in front of Mercy and say, “We have to watch this together.”