Kissed by an Angel

'So, what do you think those girls had in mind?' she asked, stopping to look around. There was no one in sight, just smooth stones, bright flowers, and a sea of lush grass.

'I was wondering the same thing about you,' he replied.

'Oh, I'll just improvise. I doubt you'll be much help. You couldn't have any real skills yet.

Probably all you can do is stand there and shimmer, like some kind of freakin' Christmas ornament-meaning only a believer or two will see you.'

'Only a believer?'

'You mean you still haven't figured out that?' She shook her head in disbelief.

But he had figured it out; he just didn't want to admit it, just didn't want it to be true. The old lady had been a believer. So was Philip. Both of them had seen him shimmering. But Ivy had not. Ivy had stopped believing.

'You can do something more than shimmer?' Tristan asked hopefully.

She looked at him as if he were utterly stupid. 'What on earth do you think I've been doing for the last two years?'

'I have no idea,' Tristan said.

'Don't tell me, puh-lease don't tell me I'm going to have to explain to you about missions.'

He ignored the melodramatics. 'You mentioned that before. What missions?'

'Your mission, my mission,' she replied quickly. 'We each have a mission. And we have to fulfill it if we want to get on to where everyone else has gone.' She started walking again, rather quickly, and he had to hurry to catch up.

'But what is my mission?'

'How should I know?'

'Well, somebody has to tell me. How can I fulfill it if I have no idea what it is?' he said, frustrated.

'Don't complain to me about it!' she snapped. 'It's your job to find out.' In a quieter voice she added, 'It's usually some kind of unfinished business. Sometimes it's someone you know who needs your help.'

'So I have at least two years to-' 'Well, no, that's not exactly how it works,' she said, making that funny ducking motion with her head that he had seen before. She moved ahead of him, then passed through a black iron fence whose curled and rusted spikes made odd designs against the walls of an old stone chapel. 'Let's find the kids.'

'Wait a minute,' he said, reaching for her arm. She was the one thing that he could grab hold of.

'You've got to tell me. How exactly does this mission thing work?'

'Well… well, you're supposed to find out and complete your mission as soon as possible. Some angels take a few days, some angels take a few months.'

'And you've been at it for two years,' he said. 'How close are you to completing yours?'

She ran her tongue over her teeth. 'Don't know.'

'Great,' he said. 'Great! I don't know what I'm doing, and I've finally found myself a guide, only she's taking eight times as long as everybody else.'

'Twice as long!' she said. 'Once I met an angel who took a year. You see, Tristan, I get a little distracted. I'm going about my business, and I see these opportunities that are just too good to pass by. Some of them don't really meet with approval.'

'Some of them? Like what?' Tristan asked suspiciously.

She shrugged. 'Once I dropped a stage chandelier on my jerky ex-director's head-just missing, of course. He always was a big fan of Phantom of the Opera- that's what I mean by an opportunity just too good to pass by. And that's how it usually goes for me. I'm two points closer, then something comes up, and I'm three points back and never quite getting to figuring out my mission.

'But don't worry-you probably have more discipline than me. For you, it'll be a snap.'

I'm going to wake up, Tristan thought, and this nightmare will be over. Ivy will be lying in my arms-'How much do you want to bet that those girls are in the chapel?'

Tristan eyed the gray stone building. Its doors had been bound with heavy chains since he was a little boy.

'Is there a way in?'

'For us, there is always a way in. For them, a broken window in the back. Any special requests?'

'What?'

'Anything you'd like to see me do?'

Wake me up, thought Tristan. 'Uh, no.'

'You know, I don't know what's on your mind, Trist, but you're acting deader than dead.'

Then she slipped through the wall. Tristan followed.

The chapel was dark except for one square of luminescent green where the window was broken in the back. Dry leaves and crumbling plaster were scattered over its floor, along with broken bottles and cigarettes. Wooden benches were carved over with initials and blackened with symbols that Tristan couldn't decipher.

The girls, whom he judged to be about eleven or twelve, were seated in a circle in the altar area and giggling with nervousness.

'Okay, who are we going to call back?' one of them asked. They glanced at one another, then over their shoulders.

'Jackie Onassis,' said a girl with a brown ponytail.

'Kurt Cobain,' another suggested.

'My grandmother.'

'My great-uncle Lennie.'

'I know!' said a tiny, freckle-faced blonde. 'How about Tristan Carruthers?'

Tristan blinked.

'Too bloody,' said the leader.

'Yeah,' said the brunette, pulling her pony-tail up into two long pieces. 'He'd probably have antlers coming out of the back of his head.'

'Ew, gross!'

Lacey snickered.

'My sister had the biggest crush on him,' the freckled blonde said.

Lacey batted her eyelashes at Tristan.

'One time, like, when we were fooling around at the pool, he, like, blew the whistle at us. It was cool.'

'He was a hunk!'

Lacey stuck her finger down her throat and rolled her eyes.

'Still, he might be bloody,' said a redhead. 'Who else can we call for?'

'Lacey Lovitt.'

The girls looked around at each other. Which one of them had said it?

'I remember her. She was in Dark Moon Running.'

'Dark Moon Rising.'

It was Lacey's voice, Tristan realized, sounding the same but different, the way a televised voice was the same but different than a live one. Somehow she was producing it in a way that they all could hear.

The girls looked around, a little spooked.

'Let's join hands,' the leader said. 'We're calling back Lacey Lovitt. If you're here, Lacey, give us a sign.'

'I never liked Lacey Lovitt.'

Tristan saw Lacey's eyes spark.

'Shhh. The spirits are around us now.'

'I see them!' said the little blonde. 'I see their light! Two of them.'

'So do I!'