Guardian Angel (3 page)

“Toodles? What a funny girl.” Michael snorted lying letting his head fall into his pillows and trying to comprehend everything that had happened to him, just as the door opened and a doctor came in carrying a clipboard.

“
How are you feeling, Michael?” the doctor asked politely.

Michael couldn
’t think of a reply that stated exactly how he felt at that moment that wouldn’t make him look like a lunatic. He settled for as good an answer as any.

“
Not too bad.” he replied nonchalantly.

 
The doctor checked the machine hooked up to Michael, as the nurse had earlier before looking into his eyes, checking his pulse from his wrist, and listening to his breathing through a stethoscope. He prodded and poked him a few times for good measure, then pulled up a chair next to Michael’s bed and sat down placing a medical clipboard on his lap. The angle and the doctor’s handwriting made it unreadable.

“Well, Mr Andrews, you’re quite a lucky man. When you came in, you had suffered a severe blow to the head, a collapsed lung and some internal bleeding. You had to be resuscitated and went into a deep sleep, or very light coma as we call it. Do you remember anything about what happened?”

“
Only rushing across the road to catch the bus, and then a car. Then nothing, until I woke up and saw the nurse.”

 
The doctor nodded. “That’s good. No short term memory loss. I don’t quite know how but your lung has healed however. I would like to take credit for it, but it is almost miraculous. I expected you to be here in recovery for a few weeks. But, looking at your chart over the last few days and your readings now, I think you should be fit to be released in a couple of days. You must have a strong will to survive.”

Michael grinned before he could stop himself. “Or someone looking out for me on high,” he thought.

“I guess so, doc," He said aloud "I mean I don’t know how, but I just felt protected.”

“
Well, whoever it is protecting you is doing a good job. I'll be back to check on you again tomorrow, just to make sure everything is OK and there’s no unforeseen complications. All things remaining equal, as I said, you should be able to go home the day after tomorrow.” The doctor stood up to leave.

Michael nodded
, “Thanks doc.”

“If you need anything, just ask the nurse. If it's urgent press the buzzer there. Take care, and see you tomorrow, Mr Andrews.” The doctor left the room, closing the door gently behind him.

 
Michael was left alone with his thoughts. He spent the next few hours trying to wrap his head around all that had happened to him. The theological implications alone were enough to blow his mind. Michael had always had faith in a higher power, but to have evidence beyond all doubt slapping him in the face was almost too much to take.

  
He didn’t just have faith or belief any more, he had proof beyond all doubt. Well, unless he really was crazy, and it was all some hallucination. He wasn’t sure where to go from here. Would he always be able to see Jasmine, or would his ability fade with time? She had said it was abnormal for anyone to be able to see his or her guardian angel. Michael wondered if the ability to see Jasmine would be taken away and his memory of the events erased.

“
Could they really do that?” he murmured.

 
A loud ringing shocked him out of his reverie. A throbbing pain flared up as he looked around for its source and found a telephone beside his bed. He sighed with relief and reached over to pick it up wearily, cutting off the piercing ringing noise.

“
Hello…”

“Michael, I’ve been so worried about you, are you OK? How are you feeling? The doctor just phoned me to say you'd woken up.” His mother's voice fired off questions like a chain gun.

“
I’m fine mum; the doctor said they should be releasing me the day after tomorrow. They say I've made a miraculous recovery, although my head still hurts a lot,”.

“That’s good, but they shouldn’t be letting you out so soon, you could still have problems. You should tell them to keep you in longer, just in case. I was so worried when they phoned to tell me you were hurt, I almost got on a plane straight away, but all the flights were booked up solid. Has your father been in or phoned you?”

   Michael
’s mother lived in the south of France, where she'd taken a job as an antiques dealer a few years back. She had encouraged Michael to go with her, but his familiarity with England had held him back; that and his mum’s penchant for nagging.

“I wouldn’t know if he’s been in, I only just woke up. But don’t forget he spends a lot of time in America now with his band. Last time I spoke to him, he was somewhere in Arizona. I doubt he would be back in England yet.”

The doctor must have phoned his mother to inform her of his condition right after he had left the room. Michael wasn’t sure whether to thank him or hate him for it.

“Well I'm going to phone him, his music can sod off. You come first. Let me know if he doesn’t ring you. Oh, I’m just so glad you’re OK, Mikey, I don’t know what I'd have done if you had…”

 
Michael cut his mother off, knowing she would start crying soon. “It’s OK, mum, honestly I'm OK, I was lucky. So stop worrying”

“
When you have kids, you’ll understand. I'm going to get the first flight I can over there, to check on you, OK?”

“
It’s fine, honestly mum, I'm fine!”

“
Still, I'm flying over first chance I get. It’s been months, anyway, and you should have someone with you now.” Michael’s mother continued ignoring his protestations.

“
Listen," she went on, "I have to go now, so you stay safe, sweetie, and I'll ring you when I'm back in the country. Get well soon, love you.”

“
Love you too mum.”

 
After putting the receiver down Michael let out a long drawn out sign. His mother was very protective, too much so sometimes. Then again, a bit of home cooking and mothering appealed to him after months of bachelor living. It had been over a year since his last girlfriend, and with his parents often, abroad, he did get lonely from time to time. He decided he may as well accept his situation and to look forward to his mother’s visit. He lay back in his bed and trying to think again. After everything that had happened since he woke up, weariness overcame him. Michael drifted off to sleep, dreaming of angels and warm, home-cooked meals.

***

   Jasmine ascended slowly on her wings of light, leaving the mortal plane of Earth behind. She passed through the various layers of the symphony, perceiving all the different notes and songs as she sought to enter the highest tier of heaven. Every time she returned to heaven, the music always soothed any worries she had and made her feel at peace.

An angel’s wings didn’t just serve in the traditional sense, letting them fly. They also acted as the conduit or key that allowed entrance to heaven, pulsing with purest light when the angel prayed for entrance, and opening a portal that led to a higher plane. Demons lost this ability upon falling, their wings effectively destroyed and remade into a mocking parody of the form they once held.

Jasmine’s thoughts returned, to what lay behind Michael’s accident; it was definitely not the work of man. Was a demon was behind it? The thought made her shudder, and she tried to push it aside; hopefully, she would gain the answers she sought when she reached the High seat.

 
Jasmine was now entering the upper tiers of the symphony; here she could hear the angels’ forever raising their voices in praise and love. She slowed her climb and came to a halt, wings beating against the up-draught. Her wings lost their glow and Jasmine stopped, clouds forming beneath her feet and she landed.

   To the
other angels going about their heavenly business, Jasmine’s arrival was just like any other and so they ignored it. Had Jasmine been watching another angel arrive, it would have seemed as if the angel had emerged from a ring of light, much like how she had left Earth only moments earlier. One angel, however, did pay attention and ran up to her as she found her feet.

“
Jasmine, you are expected.” The angel's tone was neutral.

“
I am?” Jasmine replied, but then why shouldn’t it surprise her that they knew something was amiss?

“
Yes, please follow me to the Metatron," the male angel said. "He wishes to hear your story and to help you find your way. Strange events have transpired.” He gestured to a golden archway.

 
The male angel was named Filo. He was of the highest choir and personal attaché to the Metatron, the voice of God. He had a proud bearing and a stern, yet handsome face. His hair was black, where most angels had blond or very light brown hair. His eyes, traditionally blue, glowed with such intensity and faith no one looking into them could fail to be moved.

Jasmine bowed and walked towards the golden archway, which was elaborately decorated, with images of cherubs blowing horns. The space between shimmered faintly as Jasmine approached.  Filo fell into step behind her, waiting patiently as she hesitated. It led to the Metatron’s private chambers, and usually only, the most important of matters were heard there.

   The thought made Jasmine
suddenly nervous, a feeling she had not experienced in decades. Angels felt emotions, just like humans, but had a much greater control over them, and could suppress them if the need arose. This time, however, Jasmine lost her usual composure and her hand trembled.

   She stepped
through the shimmering arch in a brief flash of light and emerged on the other side in a large circular chamber. Pillars of glass, which contained musical instruments that sat suspended in the air, surrounded the chamber. At the far end, a large, wooden chair stood, unadorned but regal in its appearance. By its side, a desk was strewn with parchment and a small electronic device, and Jasmine‘s allowed herself a small grin even the angels weren’t immune to progress.

   In the centre of the
room, the Metatron kneeled with his head bowed and hands before him. His majestic wings were neatly folded upon his back, though their span was such that the feathers brushed the floor. Jasmine stood with Filo by the arch, patiently waiting to be noticed. It would be considered rude to interrupt the Metatron in prayer. The idea he could be communicating with God sent an excited tremor down Jasmine’s spine.

 
After a few minutes, the Metatron slowly stood up and turned to face them. His hair was cut short and golden. His eyes too were golden, unlike the traditional blue of most angels. He had a handsome face, almost like that of a teenage boy, but behind it dwelt great wisdom and untold aeons of devoted service. He was very tall, at least seven foot by Jasmine’s estimate, and gave off a huge air of authority and power. Jasmine bowed instinctively and noticed that Filo did the same. To be in the presence of the Metatron was an honour, but also a troubling one under the current circumstances.

“Welcome, Jasmine, I am pleased you have come so quickly. Filo, thank you for escorting our young Guardian here. You may return to your duties.” The Metatron's voice was soft yet powerful.

“
Thank you lord,” Filo replied bowing. He nodded to Jasmine before returning back through the arch to leave Jasmine alone with the Metatron. She struggled to suppress her growing unease and nerves.

The Metatron seemed to noti
ce and smiled warmly.

“
Do not be so nervous, Jasmine. I know of what has happened, and I know you tried your best. I also know your charge is fine and healthy, despite this odd occurrence. Be at ease, and let us discuss the matter.”

   Jasmine
's nerves vanished. His voice soothed her to the very core, and she suddenly knew everything would be all right. That was his strength: total conviction, total love, that could heal any woe. However deep inside something kept on nagging at Jasmine, although now she barely perceived it.

 
The Metatron sat down on the floor and gestured for Jasmine to join him. He seldom used the elaborate chair, eschewing it for a more humble spot on the floor. He regarded it as a token of vanity and one he did not need. “I will sit as equals with all of the choirs" he had said "and even mortals, for we are all beloved in God’s eyes.” Jasmine still remembered his words and had always been inspired by the Metatron’s humble attitude.

   Jasmine slowly walked o
ver and knelt opposite the Metatron, folding her wings in neatly behind her. There was no danger of them touching the floor, as they were smaller than the average span, but she wanted to look her best before the Metatron. He seemed to notice and gave her a warm smile before getting down to business.

“
I do not need to tell you what has transpired on Earth, As you were there with your charge when it happened, Jasmine," the Metatron paused, as she got comfortable.

 
"As you suspected, the incident was no act of man. We do not know exactly who was behind it, but we have our suspicions.”