Heaven's Children (Earth Totem)

by Jackson, Deborah

  Maybe it was because I was thinking about something happening, as my heart beat increased when a rustle from below caught my attention. I looked over the fence where the top of the trees glinted in the moonlight, and it took a while for my eyes to adjust.

  An icy grip of fear touched the back of my neck, and I felt drawn, unable to look away. I hesitated, my hand on the handle and rubbed my thumb over the cold metal, thinking, looking. A shadow in the trees made me jerk my neck at the image of a shapeless dark thing, rushing up. I didn’t hesitate any longer and closed the window. Small sounds like scraping fingers, felt the edges of the window and I stared in horror. Maybe it was my imagination, but the room seemed darker, and I felt trapped. I was almost relieved to hear the sound of my grumpy baby sister moaning below. I rushed down to the safety of my parents. It was the first time that I had ever voluntarily closed my bedroom window.

  3

  Know me

  SATURDAY NIGHT

  I’m running, from what I don’t know, but its close. Someone is calling my name. The voice is echoing through the tall towers of trees. I can hear my breathing and scream when I feel the iron grip of something on my arm. The fingers are cold, and I don’t want to look. I call out, but there are more of them now, hands coming out of the mist. Hands dragging me down and I look down in horror. My legs have already sunk knee deep, and I can’t move. Fingers scrape my skin, pulling me further into the earth. I feel him before I see him. A shadow sweeps down and pulls at my arms. I concentrate on the fleeting outline of his face. It’s fuzzy to start off with, and I get the impression of wings behind him. His face shifts from dark, intense eyes to sea green and I’m confused and let go. Darkness takes me then, as I slip and I hear his voice in my ear, whispering. I know you…you know me.

  ‘You ready?’ Amber sang from the front door. I looked at the voluminous vision in black gossamer and netting and quickly pulled on my jacket before shouting goodbye. I had cleared going out, earlier, with my parents. I knew they were confused that I didn’t invite her in, but they accepted it. I was lucky to have their trust at fifteen; most of the girls in my school were always under some kind of house arrest. I didn’t want to push my luck. Amber looked as if she might have dolls hanging by their necks in her room. I almost giggle now, imagining Mum and Dad’s face on meeting her. They weren’t very skilled at masking their feelings and the grump’s reaction would be brutal.

  ‘You seem happy.’ Amber grinned, and I shake my head. I wasn’t! All day today, I had looked at my watch dreading this moment. It felt like I was heading for the gallows, waiting for the trapdoor to open. The thought makes me zip my fleece up against the sudden cold chill winding round me. I can’t help but look behind us while Amber chatters, thinking of last night.

  Waking up in the morning, without fresh air had made me feel sick, and the moment sunlight hit my room, I threw the window open. Immediately, the familiar cold chill is back, pressing on me, pushing me forward. I was definitely being watched.

  I’m so grateful now, that the meeting is at Amber’s house – the closer the better. I don’t think I can stand being outside for too long. I didn’t realise how fast I was walking until Amber pulled at my top.

  ‘What’s the rush?’ She asked breathlessly, bending over. ‘No rush, just want to get there, that’s all.’ I mutter, looking over her shoulders. I almost imagine the darkness pausing with us, hesitating and it makes me panic. I just want to get to her house.

  ‘I’m also dying for the loo.’ I blurt, hugging myself and shifting from foot to foot to emphasise it. I feel guilty for lying, and look at her anxiously. I try not to think about how I’m going to get home – alone. As we walk, I peer at her from the corner of my hood. Who knew before all of this that she only lived a couple of streets down. I had seen her at school, but I was too content in my own friendship with Jo-Jo to notice her. I felt guilty then, and knew that if it wasn’t for the way things had turned out, we would never have been friends. But not for the same reasons as Jay and Paul who gossiped that she was into witchcraft. The rumour of her Mum’s drinking came to mind when I looked at her house.

  Neglect screamed at me. The house was in darkness and I nearly walked into a pot plant. The dried curled leaves stabbed my legs and I pushed it back against the wall. Part of it crumpled in my hands and if Amber noticed, she didn’t say anything.

  ‘Don’t worry, everyone will be here soon,’ she said cheerily, while turning the key.

  I nodded, feeling an even colder chill from inside.

  ‘Mum works nights…’ Amber called letting the rest of the explanation hang. I helped her put on as many lights as possible. It was the kitchen that told me the most about her. All I could see were the remains of dirty dishes in the sink and smell the faint aroma of eggs and tobacco. I watched Amber hurriedly put a bottle of vodka in the cupboard below the sink and knew she was embarrassed. I looked away, pretending to read an old magazine on the kitchen table while thinking of my comfortable home. There was always the fragrance of food in the house, and even more so now, since the grump had been born. Even though our house was on the edge of town, and Amber’s house was the closest, it seemed a million miles away in comparison.

  My brain rewinds then, remembering Amber’s disappointed face when I blocked her from coming inside. It must have looked so warm and inviting and I felt like such a bitch.

  ‘Hey Amber, fancy coming over for Sunday lunch, sometime?’ When there was no answer I looked up from the magazine, to find her staring at me in shock.

  ‘Really?’ Amber whispered.

  I nodded.

  ‘I’d love to,’ she beamed.

  ‘Here,’ she smiled holding out a box of candles, help me get this lit will you?’ A tinge of regret creeps back in when I look at the overused black candles. Everything felt sinister, and the witchcraft rumours suddenly seemed possible. I watched her pull out another box of coloured candles. They were as overused as the other batch and I look from them to her, sceptically.

  ‘Meditation needs all of this?’ I whisper.

  ‘They’re the colours of the chakras,’ Amber smiled, putting down the multicoloured candles between the black ones. In the centre, she made a big deal of placing a solitary white candle on a glass matt. She stepped outside gracefully before turning to me, grinning from ear to ear. I have to admit, it did make the lounge look more inviting.

  ‘You’re gonna have to learn all of this, but don’t worry I’ll teach you.’ I could tell she was excited by the idea. I wasn’t, it looked too spooky for meditation and even though we were inside, I wasn’t looking forward to facing the darkness later. A loud knocking on the door, followed by even louder talking, interrupted us.

  I had never wished as much as I did right then, that I could use witchcraft and fly right out of here. They all seemed to swarm in, excited and surprised, that I was even there. I looked at Amber, who beamed back like a mother hen.

  ‘Glad you came - you’re going to love this.’ Claudine almost sang.

  ‘Yep, meditation is quite difficult, don’t worry if you can’t do it the first time, Claudine was the slowest.’ Caro laughed.

  Claudine dug her sister in the ribs pretending to be offended. When Andrea arrived, the mood instantly sobered and I knew I should have said something about my own meditating, but I didn’t want to offend them. Andrea seemed so intent on the training side and even brought me a typed list of breathing exercises to do at home.

  It didn’t take long before everyone was sitting in a circle like excited children. I felt so boring compared to them. Everyone was into something; Wicca, Magic, Gothy meditations. It was in every film, and every bookshelf. Why couldn’t they just be themselves? What’s wrong with being ordinary? The way they hummed and rocked, I almost believed they would end up floating around and expected a few puffs of smoke, but there was nothing. They were just a bunch of kids pretending to be something they weren’t. What I didn’t expect when I opened my eyes was to see
Andrea staring right at me. I wanted to run then, but instead, sort of smiled at her shrugging my shoulders. It took a few seconds to realise she wasn’t staring at me with her weird eyes, but staring straight through me. Amber had told me about trancing, but nothing could prepare me for how weird they looked. It gave me the creeps. She seemed to be the only wide-eyed trancer there. The rest of them had their eyes closed and didn’t even notice when I stood up quietly, curling up on an old couch, watching them. They looked like they were sleeping, and I grinned when I noticed Nettles had her i-pod on. The wire was carefully covered by her curly brown hair, and I wondered if she was listening to something different from the music in the background. Andrea had put on the sounds of the forest and it surprised me. I expected dark, moody music. I didn’t tell her about the whole range of CDs in my bedroom, including the sounds of the sea. The more connected I felt to the earth, the better I slept. I’m not sure whether it was a good thing or not, being here, though. Everyone in this group seemed more disconnected.

  I found myself staring at Claudine and Caro who were petite and identical with large cat eyes and grins. Their pitch black hair was as natural as their perfect white teeth and cappuccino-coloured eyes.

  They didn’t really seem to go for the Goth look, like Amber, preferring instead, the bohemian, and I had to admit, I really liked it. I love vintage, and although they didn’t dress alike, they wore the same colours, must be a twin thing. What really made them stand out was their love of trinkets, bangles, necklaces and hairpieces. You could always hear them before you saw them. They also loved flirting with Seth, which annoyed Nettles. They whispered to him in Portuguese, even though, according to Amber they were born in the UK – only their grandparents were Portuguese. They stopped when the mysterious Hawk arrived. Her rambling about him made me irritated; guys were the last thing I wanted to discuss, especially after Josh. When the circle broke up, and everyone was ripping into junk food, he turned up.

  I almost felt the atmosphere change when the front door opened and could hear the low rumble of his voice. The accent was interesting and I giggled nervously with Amber. The urge to go was stronger than ever now. I had done what they wanted, but now the guy element was involved, I needed to get away. I almost dropped my glass when he walked into room.

  His smile was the same as from my dreams, but this time he didn’t change into someone else, this was real. When he walked in, I felt as if the very fabric of time was slowing like we were slipping between realities. My head spun as I visually drank him in. Here, he was more defined, not hazy, or changing shape, and taller, taller than my dream with his thick mane of tousled hair. I noticed the way some of it drooped into his eyes, framing the skin that was like dark reddened wood and emphasising the mystery. When he turned to talk to the others, I caught sight of a tattoo on his neck and strained for a closer look. From what I could see, they were wings, and it made me tingle, remembering my dream. While everyone monopolised his attention, I kept stealing looks, to store until I got home. I always did this with delicious, happy thoughts; even Josh had once been part of my secret click, store and file technique.

  Hawk, even the name, seemed unusual, and he did have an American Indian look about him. I knew he didn’t go to my school, he seemed older. Word from the group was that he’d made contact online. I made a mental note to do some research on their type of meditation. At least I would know what I was doing, I reasoned to myself. I just couldn’t shake the whole dream thing; it wasn’t just a case of déją vu. I had seen him, I recognised him and while everyone around me was chattering like chipmunks, I was shaking.

  ‘God, he's so sexy...don't you think? And he’s looking at you.’ Amber' made me jump at the way she crept up behind me. But it was her voice that was worse, it wasn’t the most subtle whisper, and I could swear he was listening.

  ‘I know you, and you know me.’ I think, holding my breath as he approached.

  ‘Hawk, this is Nevaeh, and this is her first time.’ Andrea said, snapping me out of my trance.

  ‘Nevaeh…’ he whispered, and I felt goose bumps all over my body at the way he curled his tongue round my name. Before I could say anything, he was pulled away by the twins, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  ‘So rude.’ Amber whispered and I bit my lip, trying to keep it together. I didn’t miss the look of irritation that flashed across his face and even Andrea looked annoyed. I continued to stare at him from across the room, the first traces of jealousy setting in. I felt irritated by the way the twins hovered round him, flicking their hair and arching their backs.

  I know you, and you know me. I damn my thoughts, and it’s hard to concentrate on the others. I did try, smiling at the appropriate time when Seth dipped Nettles down for a dramatic kiss. I even talked to Amber about her clothes but I wasn’t really listening, my eyes continuously darting back to him.

  He’s talking quietly to Andrea in the corner of the room now, and from their body language, it’s quite intense. All I notice is the way he bites then licks his lips, imagining what it would be like to kiss them. When he paused, and half turned his face, I blushed, wondering if I was making my thoughts obvious.

  I suddenly felt hot, too hot and pushed my hair from my face.

  ‘Hey, are you okay?’ Caro asked bluntly. A little too bluntly and I felt the blush deepen, cringing, when everyone including him turned to stare at me.

  ‘Yes, I mean no, I’ve got a bit of a headache, I’m sorry, I need to go home.’ I hated lying and knew that it didn’t sound convincing. Most of all, I didn’t look in his direction. The urge to escape was strong. I didn’t want to be here anymore, I needed to go home, to think. I somehow managed to ignore the protests, the loudest coming from Amber who I side stepped. After promising her, that I really had a headache and it wasn’t anything else, I stepped outside.

  The wind seemed to mimic my anxiety and I pulled my hoodie as far as it would go over the sides of my face, covering my icy ears. I didn’t see the cyclist or hear the ringing of the bell as it sped past until it was too late.

  Now, I’m on my knees, the contents of my bag spilling everywhere. Thoughts of the shadow returning make me scream in frustration. I even toy with the idea of leaving it. When a hand touched my shoulder, fear locked up a scream in my throat.

  ‘Are you alright?’

  I nod like an idiot. It takes me another second to realise that my mouth is still open. It’s him and I’m not certain whether to breathe a sigh of relief or panic that he’d followed me. What if the dream was a bad omen? I remember the hands pulling me into the earth.

  ‘Are you sure?’ he repeats.

  I nod again, still not looking at him, only aware of the contents of my bag as I sweep everything up, embarrassed by my collection of junk.

  ‘Stand up slowly,’ he instructed, his voice is soft and I let him pull me up. I can feel the tension in his arms – he’s strong and it makes me feel calmer.

  ‘Time to take you home,’ he says sternly and I’m almost comforted by the worry that is etched onto his face. I feel myself blushing, something I hadn’t felt a few minutes ago. I hoped he didn’t notice. The thought of him being a bad omen, of being dangerous made me smile at my idiocy.

  ‘Something amusing?’ He bent his head to look at me

  ‘Hmm? Nope, it’s just…’ I shake my head, feeling embarrassed when he extends his arm to me. It was so old fashioned but it made me feel safer. We didn’t speak all the way to my house, and I’m torn between wanting to be inside with my thoughts and making the most of walking with him. I inhale deeply when we both step up to the front step. I know that if he kisses me, I will kiss him back and the thought surprises even me. When his lips brush my forehead, I’m surprised at how upset I am. I must have misread everything. I’m such an idiot. Then he cups my chin with one hand, pulling it up, so that I’m staring into his eyes. I think I stopped breathing, although nothing could have prepared me for what he said next.

  ‘I know yo
u, and you know me.’ He whispered before melting back into the night, like a dream.

  4

  Totems and things

  THREE WEEKS EARLIER – FRIDAY AGAIN

  I can hear voices, the female’s voice tears at me like sandpaper, while the males’ soothes like silk. I’m confused, where am I? A deer speeds past, followed by other animals and I can feel their fear. I can see someone in the woods. She is lying on the floor, her body covered in earth and leaves. Her heart-shaped face stares up at me. Sad, sea-green eyes well up with tears and I know she is in pain, I can feel it. I have a recollection of words, a hidden memory and know that I need to speak, but my mind is frozen. I try to cry out, but she is disappearing, buried alive beneath the earth. I wake up pawing the air, gasping for breath.

  I had managed to steer clear of everyone, last week. I even cancelled Sunday lunch with Amber by text, feigning another headache, feigning a migraine. I’m still struggling to understand what was happening with Hawk. I couldn’t deal with her asking me about it. I promised myself I’d make it up to her, just not yet. I didn’t sit under the tree at break but in the library. Amber tried to catch my attention, but I pretended to bury myself in my work.

  Mr Harris, our English teacher, was describing the symbolic nature of dreams in ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’. It was one of my favourites. Nymphs and the woodland creatures felt so real to me.

  ‘Does anyone believe in dreams?’

  Hands shoot up, and I think of my own dreams. Lately, they were getting more intense.

  ‘Jay has dreams all the time and sometimes he finds them on his sheets.’ Paul laughed and the class burst into laughter. Mr Harris turned a dark shade of purple.

  ‘Mmm…I’ll ignore that. Nevaeh? Do you think dreams can represent reality?'

  The room was silent, and I felt my face become hot.

  ‘I suppose that if we have worries they change shape and become symbolic. It’s our way of working out our dreams – where rational things are interwoven with the irrational.’ My voice is shaky and the obvious silence around me makes me uncomfortable. I knew I had broken the cool code and answered like a complete geek. I can’t help it, dreams are my thing now.