Heaven's Children (Earth Totem)

‘Nevaeh, No!’ A voice roars at me. Is that you Hawk?

I look back at Hussein curiously and dismiss the voice as his. He has enough on his plate, and it’s not his fault, I want to scream. It’s mine; I stepped into the road in front of him. I wonder why he’s at the station. It’s busy here with people bumping into each other or queuing at the desk.

Did they all just look at me?

They give me the creeps. Anyway, nothing ever happens in Tidwell, one road in and out.

Hussein is trying to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand. Have my parents brought charges against him? I hope not, I must tell them that it’s not his fault, it’s an accident.

Orhan, his son, appears at his side and gently rubs his father’s back. He’s talking quietly in Turkish telling his father not to worry, he spoke to the hospital, and she’s okay, I guess that means me. A feeling of relief seems to wash over both of us as he reaches for his son’s hand.

I knew I was okay.

When Orhan goes back to the desk to fill out the paperwork because his English is so much better than his Dad’s, I sit next to him. He’s taken out his wallet, and inside the clear plastic is a photo of his wife. She’s pretty with large eyes as dark as coal and a wide smile. Maybe now he can go back to his home and wife. She has no idea what’s happened. Orhan, her step-son told her that his father is working an extra shift and his mobile battery is dead. I sense something else, she’s pregnant, and I know it’s a girl with dark hair, and rosy plump cheeks. When she giggles, everyone will laugh at her. They are going to call her Rosita; she will be his little rose. Of course, I’m biased, that’s my Mum’s middle name. I want to show Hussein his daughter - she’s a little far off at the moment, waiting to wake up. Her laugh is infectious, and I laugh with her.

‘Look, Hussein, she’s right there.’

I touch his back briefly and feel an electric shock before quickly pulling it away. I hope I don’t electrocute him. I get a sense that my touch can help or hurt him. Hussein is thinking about his wife and baby, and now the image of her laughing is in his head. I feel like doing cartwheels, even if this is a drugged dream.

Then, I can tell, he remembers me and the sadness returns, making the room feel dense. I look at my hand and hesitate before placing it back on his shoulder.

The electric shock triggers something in my body. The light is as thick and fluid as water and it seeps from my hands.

That’s enough, pull it back. This time the voice breathes on me like a cold wind and I shiver. I pull my hand back. Who is that? Hussein’s not talking; his swollen eyelids are flickering wildly. Maybe I have electrocuted him. I worry and sit hunched in front of him, hoping the sadness has gone. I think he sees me. His face is replaced with wonder and I smile as he puts his hands in my direction. His hand is millimetres from my face when a similar sound to the singing bowl screeches through making me cover my ears. I’m being pulled back, and even though I fight it, it’s too strong.

I’m back in bed exhausted, and look around at the now familiar room. Hussein is gone, and despair washes over me. I hold my hands up curiously.

Head rush, huh?

The voice seems casual, but I can sense worry a mile off. I freeze automatically closing my eyes like I did when I was little before opening them a crack. I can’t see him, but I know it is Hawk.

‘Are you doing that mind thing again?’ I whisper, wondering how he got inside my dream. He ignores me.

‘Wrong, it’s no dream…why do you think I’ve been calling you?’ There is an edge to his voice.

‘Wha’?’

Hawk is standing at the end of my bed, and for some reason, I feel like giggling with relief that he’s here, even though it’s hard to keep up with the different looks. I sigh heavily; this guy is difficult to read. Maybe he only came here because of guilt. An image of everyone blaming him for my accident makes me flush with guilt. I think of the mind reading and look at him carefully. If he’s read my mind, he’s not showing it. He is dressed differently too, all in white. That’s when I realise I don’t even know where he works, or is he at college?

If this is his day job, did he work at the hospital? I wait for him to say something.

‘Speak will you.’

He rubs his hand on the back of his neck before grimacing. I remember the last time he did that, and feel worry edge its way back up.

‘This is my fault. If only I hadn’t ignored you like that. I had to be on my own, to connect. I just had such a weird feeling and needed to check. Damn! It seemed to take forever to reach you; I can only just hear you. You’ve got to understand this has never been done before. I’m so sorry Nevaeh.’ I listen to him ramble, wide eyed. He looks genuinely upset, even though I have no idea what he is talking about. I sit up.

‘Hawk, look…it’s okay, I’m okay…’

But he isn’t actually listening, instead, muttering something about not doing his job properly. It’s my turn to listen properly.

Job? I was just a job?

I hear him sigh as he places both hands on the end of the bed. I wish he’d come closer. Doesn’t he know how upset I’ve been, how alone? I’ve had an accident, not a disease.

‘You were never a job, Nevaeh; please tell me, you know that. You’re so much more to me. It’s just, I wish we spent more time talking instead of…’ he half smiles and I feel myself blush furiously.

‘I don’t.’

I have never been so attracted to him as I was right now and hold my arms out to him, but he seems cautious.