Angel Star

by Jennifer Murgia

  “Hmmm. That sounds nice. Dinner looks great, by the way.”

  I was hoping she wouldn’t expect me to elaborate anymore on my seemingly ordinary afternoon. I felt guilty about leaving out the more important details, but being completely truthful right now would only open Pandora’s box and I wasn’t ready to share my can of worms yet.

  We ate in silence, which was more the norm for us than the conversation we had shared at breakfast. The time flew by, each of us absorbed in our own thoughts.

  “I’ll clean up, Mom.” I scooped my plate off the table and walked over to the sauce-splattered counter. I wasn’t exactly the most organized person when it came to cooking. I felt a twinge of embarrassment as I began restacking the little seasoning jars that had fallen into the dusting of Italian bread crumbs around the cutting board.

  “Thanks, hon. Dinner was great.” My mother stood up stiffly and laughed a bit as she took in the mess I had created. She shook her head with a smile. “You have your work cut out for you. Are you sure you don’t want my help?”

  “Nah, I’m sure. I don’t have anything better to do.”

  The truth was, I still felt guilty. The only way I thought I could redeem myself was to make dinner and clean up.

  I straightened up the kitchen in record time. After one last inspection, and feeling my efforts were worthy of Mom’s blue ribbon of approval, I dashed quietly up the steps to my room, wanting nothing more than to relive the hours I had spent with Garreth.

  It was Friday night. A girl my age should be getting ready to go out, but the only thing I wanted to do was put on my comfiest jammies, set my iPod to shuffle, and zone out, thinking about the blue-eyed boy I had spent the afternoon with.

  Chapter Six

  My intentions of reliving my afternoon with Garreth were but a memory now. I woke to find my room blanketed in darkness, my body slumped over my desk and drenched with sweat. I wrapped my arms around myself, a futile attempt to hold myself together. Hours must have passed since I came upstairs.

  Shuffling to my bed, I threw myself on top of my still-tucked covers to think, forcing myself to remember. Since meeting Garreth, my strange, recurring dreams had slipped away from me. I had hoped they were gone for good, but tonight proved me wrong. I couldn’t remember the dream but I could still feel the terror beneath my skin. I could still feel eyes watching me, eyes that I had always looked for, knowing they existed...but, still, they eluded me.

  This dream was nearly the same as the others, something lurking, keeping a close watch...but this time, I wasn’t the only one being watched. Garreth was in my dream, protecting me from an unseen force of… Oh... If I could only remember!

  I sat up, pushing my hair out of my face and felt overwhelmingly tired. The dream seemed more of a memory to me than anything else, though that was impossible. The edges of it were still hazy in my groggy head.

  Though my covers were ice cold, I had the sense of feeling warm, as though someone had held me all night, cradling me. The warmth was familiar. Like the soothing comfort of being safe and reassured as a child when I woke up from a bad dream. I used to check my mother’s hands over and over after dreams like this, feeling for the warmth I had felt in the night. I had been so sure that she was the one to come into my room to soothe me. Who else could it have been? My mother was amused by my insistence but her hands were habitually cold, and she claimed another theory. That it was a guardian angel who came in to be with me when she could not.

  Her theory worked for a while, helping me sleep at night when I was little and afraid. But the day came when I grew too old for such stories, even though the dreams never left me.

  It wasn’t until lately that I had begun to feel afraid all over again. And I felt silly and inadequate, which is why I read so many books on paranormal creatures and myths. I was stretching my boundaries. I had run out of theories.

  So now, sweating and in a panic, I resorted to my old method of comfort. I imagined a beautiful angel with outstretched wings sweeping into my room, chasing away the darkness from the corners, from the shadows. As hard as I tried, I could never picture a face on the angel from long ago. That is, until tonight. I gave it the identity that I knew would comfort me all through the night.

  I gave it Garreth’s face.

  I pictured warm hands, warmer than my own or even my mother’s for that matter. Hands warmer than anyone’s...save one.

  As I tried to concentrate on the hands in my dream-memory, a sudden flood of other near-horrific incidents swelled up from my subconscious, revealing themselves in swift order like an unstoppable slideshow. Glimpses. Accidents I had suppressed deeply into my brain’s storage box. Choking. Warm hands. Slipping on ice and whacking my head until black splotches swirled. A voice like velvet, soothing, reassuring, keeping me in the here and now. A voice...not just any voice. One voice I would recognize over anyone else’s.

  And eyes...the most perfect heavenly blue...aqua...pure and mesmerizing. Something inside me clicked just then. A switch of recognition flipped to the “on” position. Then something fluttered in the corner behind me and I turned around. There was nothing there. The sound was familiar to me—and this time I realized I wasn’t scared, not like earlier.

  My eyes strained through the darkness of my room, waiting, and then I saw him. I rubbed my eyes, sure I was still dreaming. He walked toward me as though he had every right to be in my room. He stopped at my chair and I looked up at him as he stood in all his glory. He was illuminated by a soft, pale light that surrounded him. It seemed to emanate from within him, centering around his chest and flowing down his arms and out his long, beautiful fingers that had held mine. I felt my hand ache to return there.

  “I believe we had a date.” He smiled, waiting for me to grasp what was really happening here.

  “I am dreaming, aren’t I?” I blinked my sleep-filled eyes.

  How did he get in here? And the light...no matter how hard I thought, I simply couldn’t come up with a logical explanation for the fact that Garreth Adams was standing in my bedroom, smiling at me, glowing. So I took the only explanation possible. I was still dreaming. This was too wonderfully surreal and he stood before me as if he were truly there. The incense was much stronger now, as though I were burning a stick right now in my room. But it came from his skin and I reached out hesitantly to touch the arm that glowed before me.

  “Did you figure it out yet?” he asked softly. His voice melted into my walls.

  “You were there, in my dream, but not just my dream. You were really there.” I couldn’t bring myself to elaborate. I was still having a bit of trouble digesting this, even if it was a dream.

  “All the other times...you’ve kept me busy.” He held my face in his hands just as he had done in the car and I felt a soft, delicious dizziness overtake me.

  “But it’s not over yet.” Garreth slowly walked over to my window. “He is like a hungry animal, playing with the prey he is about to consume, toying with us—waiting in silence.”

  “Who?” I edged my way closer to the window. Just beyond the glass I could barely make out a dark haze in the distance, moving away at a thunderous speed. But, as quickly as I took note of the shadow on the opposite side of the glass, it retreated.

  “It’s morning.” He quietly changed the subject.

  I followed his gaze, and sure enough, the sun was just coming up over the trees. Dawn. Where had the night slipped away to?

  Garreth lifted me gently, placing me on my bed.

  “I’ll see you in a few hours. I’ll explain everything then, I promise.” He bent down to kiss my eyelids and they closed at his warmth. His scent lulled me back to sleep for a little while longer.

  And then he was gone and I slipped into another dream, inconceivably sweeter than the last.

  Chapter Seven

  I slowly opened my eyes to the sun streaming through my curtains in brilliant patches of different lengths. Its light blinded me as it stretched its splendid glare across my eyelids and cheek
s. For a moment, I was still lost in the most perfect dream, lost in the warm light radiating from Garreth’s chest.

  My limbs felt heavy, largely due to the position I had fallen asleep in earlier at my computer. It was only as the sun was beginning to rise that I had found a more comfortable spot, in Garreth’s arms, as he carried me to my soft, warm bed where he tucked me in before retreating with the pale intrusion of morning.

  He left, promising that he would explain. I certainly hoped so. I found myself still struggling with all that had happened in the predawn hours. I pulled myself from my warm covers and stood up. Methodically, I pulled a pair of worn jeans up over my legs and found a clean, not-too-wrinkled T-shirt from my closet. The night played over in my head as I combed through my hair with my fingers in an effort to smooth it before twisting it into a ponytail.

  It was my mother’s rotation to work a Saturday at the library. After going downstairs to the kitchen, I found her note waiting for me on the kitchen table next to a small stack of coupons. Her rushed penmanship apologetically informed me she was once again working late and asked if pizza suited me for dinner. Apparently, she approved of my sparkling housekeeping and was reluctant to have me mess it up again.

  I sat down at the table, playing with the coupons. I couldn’t stop myself from looking at the ticking clock that loomed over the kitchen sink. I wondered how long it would be before I’d see Garreth again, hoping for some reality in last night’s nocturnal visit.

  I decided not to put myself through any more torture and went upstairs to shower and get dressed. I tried my hand once more at a makeover; my mother’s stash of cosmetics was just too enticing to stay away from now that I knew the effect it had on others. I felt clean and awake, capable of facing the day.

  My thoughts drifted back again to the one I had deliberately pushed to the back burner of my subconscious. As if on cue, the doorbell chimed in the hallway. Garreth stood on the porch, smiling, and my heart thudded hello.

  “I see you’re ready.” His chuckle touched his eyes.

  “Why wouldn’t I be? You’re supposed to keep your promise today,” I said quietly, remembering last night so vividly in my head.

  A smile instantly came to his lips and he took my hand, leading me out to his car. My heart quivered behind the safety of my ribcage. I had no idea where he was about to take me, no idea what explanations he would fill my heart with—my soul with. I only knew that I trusted him.

  We drove along a winding road in comfortable silence, occasionally asking each other the small questions we had begun to store up in each other’s absence: favorite color (his white, mine brown), favorite books, movies, songs, etc. I noticed that his CD collection was as extensive as mine and our tastes were strikingly similar. We kept the conversation simple, never straying toward anything that would allow last night to make further sense to me. It crossed my mind that perhaps it was only a dream. A very vivid dream. But then I looked at him and I knew it had been real. The very fact that he had come for me confirmed that.

  The center of town was at least a mile behind us now; the houses were thinning out as we sped along. Finally, we slowed and turned left onto a narrow road that, surprisingly, I had never noticed before. My hands began to perspire. I stole a quick glance out of the corner of my eye at the beautiful boy next to me, wondering how I could have lived here my entire life and not know where the heck we were headed right now. I frantically noted the absence of a GPS on the dashboard as the lane narrowed even more. We followed it slowly, burrowing our way deeper and deeper into the thick, overgrown greenery that stretched before us.

  One moment we were in the glare of brilliant sunlight, and the next in the dimming, mocked grayness of night. When the veil of the forest began to smother us, I looked up through the open roof of the Jeep in time to see the flanking limbs choke out the rest of the sun. Within what seemed like seconds we were in another world.

  Garreth stopped the car in a clearing and stepped out, appearing cautiously excited as he turned to me, his outstretched hand at the ready for mine. The soft ground crunched slightly under the weight of my sneakers and my door shut with a stifled echo. I realized my mouth was hanging open. It was as though we had stepped into some fairy-tale forest one only reads about, a magical place untouched by time.

  “This is amazing.” I stared at the lushness surrounding us.

  “One of my favorite places in the whole world,” Garreth said with a smile.

  The thick trees absorbed the sounds of our intrusion, covering our presence in the blanket of pine and damp earth. The sun forced its way through the canopy of conjoined oak and hemlocks, teasing its lazy light between the heavy branches.

  Garreth led me forward, taking my elbow as we carefully picked our way through the crazy maze of underbrush and twigs, leading us up and over gnarled roots and hollows that twisted out of the earth and pushed the soft mulch carpet to its limit.

  I looked all around us. It was breathtaking but unrecognizable as my eyes adjusted to the green cavern we were trailing through.

  “Where exactly are we going?” I asked a bit hesitantly.

  “You’ll see. We’re almost there.”

  Every now and then a twig snapped somewhere in the density surrounding us. I would stiffen but Garreth never let go of my hand.

  As if the woods weren’t awe-inspiring enough, a perfect little stone chapel soon stood before us. When I walked around the square building, I was reminded of a miniature one-room castle. A single Gothic stained glass window was set into each of the three walls and a heavy wooden door, arched and aged, took up its fourth. Although the gray stone slab above the door frame was engraved crudely, it was still legible and proudly bore the name Saint Ann’s.

  “Coming?” Garreth’s voice startled me. He was waiting at the top of the stone landing, his hand on the well-worn, tarnished doorknob.

  “Are you sure it’s safe?” I asked hesitantly. My own voice sounded alien in the undisturbed quiet of the woods. “I mean, is it condemned or anything?”

  “Buildings aren’t made like this anymore. She might not look it, but she’s as solid as granite.”

  He extended his hand, eager to help me up the steps. His blue eyes shone as if he were the very mason who had laid the stones of the little chapel, eager to show me the precious wonder waiting behind the door. I couldn’t help but trust what I saw in his eyes. Carefully, I climbed. The thick door opened, its ancient hinges barely keeping contact with the worn wood. It scraped across the landing and we pushed our way inside.

  I walked around the tiny room, taking it all in: wild fern that grew rampant in the corners, stubs of melted candles, massive iron candelabras eaten away by patchy blankets of rust. Beautiful bits of colored glass crunched beneath my feet from stained glass windows of long ago. Although it was in obvious shambles, it was still breathtaking.

  “What do you think?” Garreth spoke softly from behind me.

  I turned to face him, noting how light it had become compared to the dim green of the forest outside. Looking up, I realized the roof was missing, allowing a glistening stream of gold to flood the tiny chapel.

  “I think it’s amazing.”

  “There used to be a tower long ago, but it was destroyed…” Garreth’s voice trailed off.

  When I lowered my gaze, expecting him to continue, my heart tightened within my chest. It wasn’t because the most beautiful boy in the world stood before me, but instead as if for a secret purpose that ray of sunlight spoke to my heart, my senses...making me fully aware that I was seeing what my eyes up until now couldn’t see.

  Chapter Eight

  It could have been a trick of the light, or perhaps my subconscious finally revealing something suppressed and unknown. I could have tried to explain it to myself a thousand different ways when, in reality, it was right in front of me.

  There Garreth stood, embraced by the most splendid set of pure white wings. From the top of his shoulders they arched upward, perfect plumes, soft and whi
te. I had no doubt that if I were to touch them at that very moment my fingers would find a velvet so supple words could not express their softness. They curved and began their gentle descent past the length of his strong arms, to the glass-littered floor below. He was inconceivably beautiful, yet he emanated an indestructibility, an eternal force that left me in awe.

  “You’re an…” but I was too speechless to continue.

  “Yes.”

  I brought my hand to my mouth. This was so unbelievable, yet it was believable. I looked up at him, knowing now that certain things made sense. How many times and how easily had my existence nearly been extinguished if it weren’t for the constant protection of my angel kissing life back into me?

  My angel.

  Every molecule inside my body, every ounce of my blood that ran through my veins became acutely aware of only one thing at that one moment. Time stood still for us in the tiny chapel where we were surrounded by the trees, the stones, the silence, and finally, the most important element of all. The truth.

  “Are you convinced now that I’m real? That I am just as real to you as every living thing you see in this forest?”

  I nodded and, slowly, the shimmering wings folded back into secrecy once again.

  Remembering my one vivid dream about him, I reached down and took his right hand in mine. He gave it to me willingly and I knew we had crossed some sort of barrier.

  I turned his hand over, palm up, knowing what I would see. My dream foretold his celestial mark. The life line, health line, heart line, chained thumb, all that one would find on a hand, a human hand, did not exist on his. His lines formed a complete circle with eight points. An octagram.

  “And this,” I glanced down at his palm again. “What does this mean?”

  “It’s the symbol of rebirth. The octagram allows me to follow you through eternity. From the moment you were created, I was assigned to guard you, to protect you, and guide you. I never realized I would…” He looked at me so deeply, so lovingly, as if he finally found something he’d lost or been without for a very long time. I realized it was the look I had seen on his face the morning I met him in the courtyard at school and every day thereafter.