To Light and Guard (4 page)

CHAPTER 7

              “What was in his hand?” my psychiatrist asked.  She leaned forward in her chair, looking very interested in what I had to say.  Maybe I was more entertaining than her usual patients… or maybe I sounded crazier.

“Nothing.” I said. 
“He wasn’t holding anything in his hand.  It was all very confusing to me.  I should have asked him when I had the chance.”  I sighed.

 
“What is it supposed to mean?” I asked.  If anyone should know, it would be my psychiatrist, right? 

             
“I don’t know,” Dr. McKenna said.

             
“Have you ever had a dream
so
real that you wondered that maybe it
was
real?” I asked.

             
Dr. McKenna remained silent.  She looked away quickly, and her body immediately tensed. Maybe I was asking too many questions for a patient.  Maybe the questions were only supposed to go one way, and asking Dr. McKenna personal questions were not allowed.  I shrugged.  No one told me the rules.  Since this was the very first time I have ever seen a psychiatrist in my life, I think I should be allowed some leeway.

             
“The thing is, before I met my angel, I never believed that angels even existed,” I said.   “Funny, right?” 

I looked
out the window and saw a sole pigeon flying in the air.   Los Angeles was full of pigeons, and they blend in quite well with the city; they were on the curb, on top of a pole, sitting inside the traffic signal.  They remained silent - almost invisible, really - unless you actually looked for them. I’ve heard people say that pigeons were just rats with wings.   I think they’re wrong.  Pigeons have wings, and they could fly, so they must have a higher purpose.

             
Dr. McKenna cleared her throat, reminding me of where we were.  I looked at her. 
Where were we?  Ah, yes… back to my story…

“It was the day after I had my dream…

CHAPTER 8

“Mom, I’m walking the dog,” I yelled over my shoulder before closing the front door.  Buffy was restrained in a leash, and I pulled her behind me as I headed towards the sidewalk.

It was our Sunday
morning ritual; although, Buffy was not really the walking type of dog. She preferred a car ride with the windows rolled down and her head sticking out.  So, it was actually like she was walking me.  Keeping me company was one of her very important doggie duties.

             
As soon as I walked passed our driveway, Buffy took charge and quickly walked in front of me as she set the pace. Now and then, I would feel the soft tug of her leash as she urged me to walk a little bit faster.   

“I think you just pretend not to like walking around the block, my friend,” I said with a grin.  There was no response, of course
, because expecting a verbal response from a dog would just be crazy. 

Then
, I felt someone watching me.  I looked behind me. 
No one
. Still, I felt strange.  I looked all around me.  
No one
.  “This is what spies must feel like,” I muttered to myself - always looking around, feeling paranoid.  Paranoia, I recently found, came naturally to me.  

T
his was getting ridiculous.  I felt nervous ever since I first saw him last Friday.   I was always waiting for that all-elusive angel to come by, and do what?  Swoop down and save me again?  Maybe give me a heart attack this time? 

B
ut angels fly, my mind reasoned. He wouldn’t be walking behind me.  I glanced up, and my jaw dropped. I was right. He was flying high in the air above me; his large white wings were soaring in the blue sky. It was a riveting sight, and believe me, I was definitely riveted.

I stopped walking, and Buffy tugged at the leash. 

“Hold on,” I said. 

I was still looking
up at the sky with one hand shielding my eyes from the glare.  There he was - a tiny speck of white framed in blue. I fought the urge to run back home.  I had already decided that he was here to save me, right?  And my dream was kind of nice, right?  I stood where I was and waited.

Should I wave?  How would he know that I wasn’t going to run away this time?
   A black SUV drove down our street. Through the windshield, I noticed that it was our next door neighbor, Sue.   I waved to her, and she waved back. 

After the SUV passed me, I looked up at the sky again.  The angel was gone.
Crap!
I missed my chance by waving to the wrong person. 

“I’m ready,” I whispered
, but maybe my angel was the one who wasn’t ready to talk to me. 

CHAPTER 9

In my room and ready to go to sleep an hour ago, I lay in bed instead with my pillow over my head.  There was an errant cricket in my room whose sole mission tonight is to keep me awake with all of its
cricketing
. I got up, turned on my lamp, and plucked a tissue from the box sitting on my nightstand.  I crouched on the floor with my tissue in my hand and looked for the cricket.

“Come on, little guy,” I said
, looking under my bed. “I know you’re still there because I can still hear you.”  I crouched lower on the carpet with a flashlight.  After a few minutes, I finally saw the cricket hopping towards me.   I waited until it hopped a little bit closer… a little… bit… closer …     

“Gotcha
!”  Carefully, I caught the cricket with the tissue. I clutched it tight in my hand while making sure that I didn’t squish it like a bug. I really didn’t want to kill the little guy.  I just wanted to sleep. 

             
Tap, tap, tap…

My heart skipped a beat, but that was not my
heart I just heard.  I stood up.

T
ap, tap, tap… 

There it was again
– as if someone was softly knocking on my bedroom window. It was odd because my bedroom was on the second floor of our two-story house. I looked at Buffy, lying on her little doggie bed next to my nightstand.  Her head perked up.

“Did you hear that?” I whispered. 
Buffy yawned.  She dropped her head back on her paws and closed her eyes. “You’re not a very good guard dog, you know that?” 

Slowly, I
made my way towards the window.  I pulled the curtain to the side and peeked out.  I couldn’t see anything in the dark. I looked down.  After my eyes adjusted, I saw him - my angel - illuminated only by moonlight.  He was looking up at me.

             
I could have watched him all night like that.  The mood was so surreal with his white wings tucked behind his back; its whiteness sort of glowed, giving him an aura.

I let the curtain drop, hi
ding myself from prying eyes.  I had a choice:  to talk to the angel, or not talk to the angel. That is the question.

T
ap, tap, tap... 

             
“Okay, okay,” I said.  I guess my angel thought I was taking too much time.   

The cricket that was still wrapped in tissue in my hand moved about, trying to get away. 
“Stop squiggling.  I’m trying to save your life,” I said, whispering to the cricket as I silently opened my bedroom door.   I snuck out of my room and walked down the stairs.  I headed towards the door leading to the backyard. 

I paused
in front of the door.   I knew if I walked out of the house right now, it was like inviting insanity into my brain. It was like saying, ‘C
ome in.  Make yourself comfortable.  Go ahead.  Make me crazy.’

What the heck?

I took a deep breath, and I opened the back door. 
Okay, here we go.
  I’m going to meet my angel while I’m wearing pink pajamas. I walked out and pulled the door shut behind me. I heard a soft click; oddly, it was the same clicking sound that my mind made when it opened itself up to one perfect angel.   

It was a cold and silent night, and even the cricket in my hand was quiet. I crouched over the grass and held the tissue in my fingertips, shaking the tissue loose until the cricket fell on the grass.  I watched it as it jumped away. 

I
looked around and found my angel standing there alone.  There was only the moon to guide me – a big night light in the sky.  Slowly, I walked towards the angel.  I couldn’t see his wings clearly because he was facing me now. 

My heart
began a loud and steady pounding. He was frowning again.  Come to think of it, he was always frowning.  Maybe it was a permanent facial expression.  The frown looked good on him, though. 

He stood still. 
I think he was waiting for me to make the first move because we both knew that running away again was still a possibility.  It was probably a good idea, and secretly, it was my back-up plan. 

M
y legs slowly carried me to him. I shivered from the cold… or from fear.  I wasn’t quite sure, and I kept repeating my newly revised mantra.
I have nothing to fear.

I forced myself to breathe slowly. 
Suddenly, the calmness I was searching for finally washed through me like a wave.  I was still wary, but I was calm.  Then, I wondered.
What could I possibly say to this angel?
It had to be something good, intelligent, and witty, but before him now, the only words that came out of my mouth were the only words I could possibly say to someone who has saved me. 

“Thank you,” I said
, looking at him. Partially concealed in darkness, even as tall as he was, he didn’t look so intimidating now. I could almost pretend that he was just like me - human.

I could
read the emotions in his face clearly.  Beyond the frown, there was an overwhelming sadness inside of him. 
Was he sad because of me?
  

“
You are welcome,” the angel said in a deep voice. He bowed slightly.

“Why are you here?”  I asked, my voice cracking slightly. 

“I
’m a Guardian.  I’m supposed to be here… to guard you.”

O
kay.  That still made no sense.  Then, I remembered him stopping the car yesterday and saving me and Emma.  I asked, “To save my family?”

“No.”  The angel shook his head.  “Just you.”

 
I almost smiled.  He was really sweet, and hadn’t I already decided not to be afraid of him?    

“
To guard me from what?” I asked.

“Hostis humani generic,
” the angel said.  “The enemy of the human race, the evils of the world, the elements.  Sometimes, I guard you from yourself.”  He tilted his head to one side.  “Reckless.  You are very reckless.” 

He was watching me carefully
, and he was judging my reaction.  He was waiting for me to what?  Flee like a little girl?  Been there, done that… twice.

“
And I also guard you from demons,” he added.

Ah
, yes, of course… demons.  My life is now finally complete.

“I am
Luke,” he added.

I
extended my right hand, and the angel took it.  I felt his warm hand grasp mine, and an electrical current shot up my hand and went through my entire body.  I tried pulling my hand back, but the angel flipped it over instead until my hand was resting on top of his.   He touched the band-aid wrapped around my index finger and raised one eyebrow in question.   

“A little souvenir from yesterday,” I explained.
  I knew he wanted to know how I got hurt.  Maybe it was his job to protect me from scrapes and bruises as well.  “It’s just a little cut… about a quarter of an inch.  It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”  

His finger tapped the band-aid, and my
entire finger glowed lightly. I felt a static spark.  It wasn’t very painful, but it was unexpected, and I jerked my hand back quickly.

“
Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Luke, and here I thought you were just a delusion.”  Despite my brave words, I still thought he was a delusion.
Who wouldn’t?

“A good one, I hope,” he
said.   

I nodded.
  I looked up and saw the moon; it was almost a full moon.  Maybe there was a connection between the moon and the delusions, like its effects on the tide… or were-wolves.   Back to reality, I came crashing down.

“You
can’t … I mean, you don’t exist,” I said.

“And yet, h
ere I am.”

“Why can I see you?”

“
A mystery.”

“Can my family see you?”

“No.  I don’t think so.”

Somehow, i
t was important to me that the three people I loved the most in this world was able to see my angel.  Forget the rest of the world.  I just wanted my family to see him.

“Can you show yourself to them?”

“No.
”

He said it so quickly that my shoulders automatically slumped in response. 
Even in the dark, the angel must have noticed the slight movement, because he went on to explain.

“That’s not how it works.  You can see us, or you cannot see us at all.  In our eyes, those are the only two categories of humans.”

So, if I
’m the only one who can see the angel, there is still a possibility that I was crazy.  This whole conversation could be a figment of my very active imagination.  Let’s just say I’m one of those creative types.

“Are there others like me?”
I asked. 

“
Some.  A very few.  There used to be much more
humans
like you, but that was a long time ago.”

“W
hat happened to them?” 

“Evolution happened
.”  He looked away.  “Humans who can see angels… they had a tendency to die young.”

The words were not comforting, and my brain kept repeating his words like a stupid broken record. 
Humans who can see angels had a tendency to die young.  Had a tendency to die young.  Die young. Die.
What happened to the humans who didn’t want to die at all? For the sake of argument, what about someone like me?  I plan on living for a really long time, until I'm
really
old - like until I'm thirty or something.  What happens to someone like me?

“Why?” I asked.

“Angels are very reckless and passionate creatures.  We get humans in trouble sometimes. There were accidents, murders, more accidents, until their numbers grew less and less each year. Like I said, evolution happened.  It would be safer if we stayed away, really - to become like ghosts, watching only from a distance.”   Luke shook his head.  “But then, that does not apply to you.” His tone was accusing, as if this was my fault. “Because you can see… me… us.”

T
hen, I thought of all of the unanswered questions in my life, there could be just one answer.  Everything would make perfect sense.               

“When I was
four years old, I had an imaginary friend with long, black hair.”

             
“She was an angel.  Her name is Rhea,” Luke said.

             
“Right.  Rhea.  I forgot about her name.  She was the sweetest lady, and she used to read books to me for hours.  I used to fall asleep with the sound of her voice.”

I thought for a while.  “
What about when I was seven, I got lost in the airport, and a blind woman found me in the gift shop?  She told me to stay put because my mom was just around the corner."

             
“Angel,” Luke explained.               

             
I smiled. Yeah.  That was a little weird, with her being blind and all; I always wondered about her.  Imagine that.  Angels were always the answer. It made me believe in something greater. 

             
“That’s amazing,” I said softly. 

             
Before he can say anything, I noticed the light turn on in my parents’ bedroom.
Oh, crap!
  

“I b
etter get back inside before my parents find out I’m here.”

“Will you meet me out here again tomorrow?” Luke asked as he walked with me towards the back door.

That
kind of sounded like he was asking me out on a date.

“Yes,” I said
, nodding quickly.
I wasn’t ready for the evening to end, either. I still had so many unanswered questions. 
Maybe I should give him a walkie-talkie, so we could keep talking through the night. 
I grinned like a bozo in the dark. 

“At midnight,” I said as
I turned and gripped the knob of the door.  Locked.  I jiggled it again. Locked.
H

 
How did this happen? I don’t have the key.

“I’m dead,” I
whispered, shaking the door again. “If Mom and Dad find me out here, they’ll think I snuck out to meet a boy.”  I grimaced. 
Hmmm
. It was kind-of the truth, but somehow, it didn’t seem as bad. 
I mean,
how much trouble can I get into with an angel, right?
Of course, no one would understand, and I was very bad with explaining unexplainable things.

Quietly,
Luke walked around me and stepped through the closed door, walking through solid wood and glass.  I gasped.  A single word that only Keanu Reeves should be allowed to say escaped my lips.  “Whoa.”

              The door opened with a soft click as Luke opened the door from the inside. He pulled the door open, and I walked in.