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Chapter Three: Are You Stalking Me Now?
Have you ever seen that cartoon where the roadrunner pushes the coyote off a hundred feet cliff then throws an anvil on top of the spattered canine? Well, just imagine that hundred feet drop times a billion… and me as the coyote. Whoever said teleportation was cool was a damned liar. Trust me, there’s nothing fun about having someone play scramble with your molecules then hurl you half across the galaxy only to slam into a concrete pavement stuck with gum. God didn’t even have the decency to give his angels a cushioned landing. Apparently not wanting our face smashed in fell into the greed category of the seven deadly sins. Bah! I bet God’s just laughing his face off at our misery. Eternal salvation my ass.
"Ouch,” I whimpered as the numbness in my arms and legs began to fade.
The only thing my mind was registering at the moment was pain… excruciating pain. Or was unbearable agony a better descriptor? Nah, too melodramatic. Agonizing torment? No, that sounds like I landed in Hell. Crap, I said the forbidden word again. Let’s rephrase. That makes it sound like I landed in… my eternal reward? Now doesn’t that sound lame? I’ll just use Hell. If God gets mad… well, I’ll deal with that when it comes. Anyway, what’s the Holy One going to do? Take away brownie points?
I scampered from my undignified position and screamed, fists shaking at the setting sky. “I’m not a freaking puzzle!”
I suppose teleportation isn’t that bad. Like everything in the universe teleportation has its good and bad points. The good point - all you have to do is step onto the transporter, think about where you want to go then poof you’re on Earth abet with some flashy fireworks, hearts, leprechauns or whatever is in season. It saves a lot of time and energy. I never understood why some angels like to fly all the way from Heaven to Earth. Sure, flying is nice, but when you start to wheeze and sweat and your face matches a lobster then it’s time to stop. They tell me it’s for exercise. I tell them they’re morons.
Another way angels can get to Earth is by riding a Pegasus. Pegasus are magnificent flyers, swift and agile with the ability to become invisible. And they’re freaking adorable. What animal isn’t cute when they frolic? They are also one of the few animal species I can stand, although there is one thing that takes away from their attractiveness… they shit… constantly. I’m not exaggerating. You look away for a second and there’s a new pile of shit. How can an animal so beautiful and graceful go that many times? And the smell… well, let’s say nature’s full glory doesn’t smell like roses.
So I prefer to teleport to Earth even though there is something that’s very disconcerting about having my molecules ripped apart then glued back together again. And, well, there is one other tidbit that I’m not very fond about teleportation… Why the hell do I always land on my head?
"Ugh, I think I’m going to puke,” I choked and immediately slapped a hand over my mouth. Did I miss today’s memo that it’s beat up Loki day?
Stumbling, I got to my feet, one hand pressed against the lamp for balance, as I took deep wavering breaths. Two teleportations in a row wasn’t one of my brightest ideas, but how was I supposed to know that Mr. Stolid checked out of the hospital. Since I wasn’t familiar with San Francisco I had to teleport again to the boy’s house to make my first, or rather second, contact with Alex Lockhart.
Once the nausea subsided I looked at the house in front of me. The Lockhart residence was a colonial house that was four stories high and stretched three windows wide. It was painted a pearl white with baby blue finishes around the windowsills. There was a brick walkway that crossed the middle of a carefully trimmed yard with rows of daisies and daffodils lining the way.
A bemused expression slowly formed on my face. This was where the boy lived? For some reason I imagined the place as a creepy western house covered in cobwebs, gloomy atmosphere that for unknown reasons will never dissipate, a backyard that held a cemetery filled with gargoyle and broken angel statues, and a basement where bloodthirsty vampires would come out at night and…
My mind blanked for a moment. Maybe I’ve been reading too many gothic novels. Either way this worked for me. At least I don’t have to spend the next six months clustered in a rat-infested shack. Actually the house was rather nice… in a Brady Bunch preppy kind of way.
I stared at the house for another minute before taking a deep breath and made my way past the porch steps, stopping at the large mahogany door that was painted a pearl white with a stained window at the center.
Time to greet the charge.
Looking to the side, I saw the small almond shaped doorbell and pressed it. Soon after a cheery tune rang from the door that sounded suspiciously like “Ode to Joy.”
How… quaint.
It’s like the all American stereotypical house – a little fireplace contributing to the depletion of the ozone, clear windows waiting for the artistic talents of cooing pigeons, and a picturesque little doorbell that makes everyone’s mental mind gag. Personally, I would have made my bell ring to Lacuna Coil’s “Heaven is a Lie.”
...Yea, I know I’m a twisted angel. You can blame God for my dysfunction.
It wasn’t long before the door opened, revealing a mussed and glaring Alex Lockhart. Opps, I think I woke up Mr. Stolid.
I watched in silence as Alex looked around then froze when his gaze landed on me. I flashed the boy a bright smile and had my hand mid-wave when Alex suddenly narrowed his eyes and slammed the door shut, leaving me gawking at the closed door.
How rude! I’m definitely getting the boy a book on good manners. That’s going down as number forty-three on my to do list, right after raiding Lord Reguel’s secret alcohol stash and convincing God to create flying porcupines. So far I’ve found the location of Lord Reguel’s stash – in his underwear drawer, but I have no clue where he hides the key. However, I’m thinking about dropping that plan since I keep getting nightmares of Lord Reguel belly dancing in a thong. Who knew the archangel wears tongs… and only tongs. Yup, no boxers, no briefs, only tongs… it makes one wonder what kind of lives the archangels are living.
Disturbing.
As for my flying porcupine idea, I’m still trying to convince God to create the critters. I wonder why He doesn’t want to? Did He overhear Garnet and me talking about using them as projectiles in the next World War?
"Alex, I know you’re in there!” I shouted while knocking on the door. “I need to talk to you for a second.”
The only response I got were the closing of the curtains. Damn it! Why is my life always so hard? Since peaceful tactics failed then I’ll just have to use a little more force.
"Lockhart, you bastard! Open this door!" I screamed as I gripped the doorknob and violently rattled the frame. Growing pissed at each passing second, a growl emerged from my pressed lips and I slammed my foot into the wood panel and felt the instantaneous pain that sliced up my leg.
"Ow! Ow! Ow!” I cried, yanking back my bruised foot and started to rub the sore limb. Note to self – hitting unmovable objects is very detrimental to health. I’m definitely filing for worker’s compensation when I get back to Heaven.
"Alex Lockhart,” I growled, narrowing my eyes at the closed door. “This means war.”
Looking around, I spotted an open window on the second floor, which was conveniently placed next to a large oak tree. I grinned.
Perfect.
I stepped away from the porch and walked to the tree, circling around it to find a leverage to boost myself up. Spotting a small indentation near the base of the tree, I placed my foot in the space and pushed up while quickly grabbing a branch. Mechanically, I made my way up the tree, eyes glued to the window so I would not inadvertently look down. I have a slight, and I mean slight, fear of heights. Yea, I know I get shot around the universe several times a day, but it’s not like I ever see the distance I’m falling from… I just feel it.
"T-This isn’t… so… bad,” I huffed as I gripped another branch. “If… Romeo… c-can climb… a wall… to Juliet… then… I ...can climb… this blasted… tree.”
Despite my words, I could feel my movements start to slow as my sides screamed in pain. I could feel sweat gathering on my forehead. I hate sweat. I could also feel my face turn red, which I hated even more. Could someone die stuck in a tree? God, what a pathetic death that would be…
Luckily I was close and with one more push I latched onto a nearby branch and lay gasping right outside the opened window.
"Finally,” I wheezed as I took in a large wavering breath. I was so out of shape. The second I get back to Heaven I’m going on the treadmill… maybe.
With my legs wrapped firmly around a branch, I reached over and gripped the windowsill and pulled myself in, only to find that I hadn’t moved.
What the?
I looked back and saw one of my wings snagged on a branch. My eyes narrowed in frustration. I yanked on my wing, trying to tuck it back into my coat, but it didn’t move, which meant I was stuck… in a tree… outside Lockhart’s house.
"I don’t remember Romeo getting stuck in any of the plays,” I muttered.
Annoyance reaching its limit for the day, I slammed my foot into the bough to dislodge myself from the tree’s evil clutches, and found myself soaring through the air.
"Ahh!” I screamed when I crashed face first into the ground.
For once I would like to land on my butt. Is that so much to ask?
"I hate my life…”
I opened my eyes then quickly closed them when a cascade of leaves and acorns plummeted on my face. Once I was sure that nothing else was going to hit me, I opened my eyes again and saw pale pink feathers slowly drifting in the air.
"Huh?” I said in a bewildered tone. “Don’t tell me…”
I wiped open my coat and stretched my wings. I quickly skimmed through the appendages, only to find the end of one wing was missing a few feathers.
"Dammit! I just groomed this morning.”
With a sigh, I tucked in my wings and closed my coat then wearily get to my feet when one of Alex’s neighbors, a young woman dressed in a conservative gray business suit, exited her house and made her way to a car. I watched her for a few moments before a smirk found its way to my face.
I think Mr. Pink winged angel freak just found his way into hospital boy’s house. Time to test out my acting skills.
After I ran a hand through my hair and straightened my cloths, I jogged to the woman and asked in a hesitant tone, “E-Excuse me. Is this Alex Lockhart’s house?”
The woman paused and gave me a curious look, but then nodded.
I gave the woman a wavering sad smile while bringing tears to my eyes. “Thanks.”
Turning around, I jogged back to the house, feeling the woman’s eyes on my back. Hook…
When I reached the door, I began to pound my fists on it. “Alex Lockhart, I know you’re in there! H-How could you forget our anniversary!”
Deciding to change tactics, I dejectedly dropped to my knees and gave a loud sob. My hair fell into my face creating the illusion that I was crying while in actuality I was trying to hide my smile. I heard a rustle as the woman and other neighbors came nearer to the house. Line…
"Were you with her?” I sniffed and wiped away an invisible tear. “Were you just toying with me? I-I thought you loved me. You said I was special… Now I find y-you… were… with… with a girl!”
In the background I heard the woman mutter ‘what a bastard.’ I fought the urge to smirk. Sinker…
"Alex, how could you - ack!”
"Shut up and get in the house,” Alex said through clenched teeth, obviously struggling to control his anger. His uncovered eye had a very dangerous glint. Score one for the newly made guardian angel.
Once I stepped into the house, Alex immediately shut the door then glared at me, asking in a low voice, “Why are you here?”
"Well, I was just on a stroll and thought I’ll stop by,” I offered innocently, blinking large pink eyes at him.
Alex glare deepened.
Wow, this guy must be related to Lord Uriel. They both got the whole spectrum of ‘die’ facial expressions down flat.
"Why are you here?” Alex repeated.
"I missed your company?” I said in an overly sweet voice. When Alex continued to glare, I sighed and scratched my head. “Can we talk somewhere with a bit more privacy?”
Alex looked as if he wanted to protest, but then changed his mind. He gave me a cool glance before turning around and headed up the stairs. After translating antisocial glare to normal speech, I figured that the move meant ‘shut up and follow me.’
I think I’m starting to tell the difference between the different glares, whether that’s a good or bad thing is debatable.
The interior of the house had a French countryside theme with lots of white wood and green colored walls. It was sparsely decorated, but had ornaments that highlighted the room’s features. There were very few pictures on the walls and the ones that were there featured oil paintings of different landscapes and inanimate objects. As we walked a bit further into the house, nearing the third floor, I noticed that the pictures changed from oil paintings to photographs. The photographs consisted mainly of Alex’s family or what I assumed was his family.
One image caused me to burst out in laughter, but quickly stifled my amusement when Alex turned and gave me an inquisitive look. The picture was of a newborn Alex in his birthday suit. It was pretty much the customary baby picture that every parent takes, except this particular image showed baby Alex with a small leaf covering his… unmentionables so he wouldn’t flash the camera.
There was another picture of a young Alex, I’m guessing around five-years old, covered in cookie crumbs as he hugged… a cow cookie jar? Hehe… Baby Alex was cute. It’s too bad he grew up into such a brat.
I spared most of the pictures a cursory glance; however, one particular picture caught my attention. I found myself trailing behind Alex when I stopped and gave the photograph my full attention. Alex paused when he noticed I wasn’t following him and asked, “What are you doing?”
I ignored the boy and continued to inspect the picture of the regal young woman. The woman sat sideways on a Victorian couch, hands folded elegantly on her lap with her legs crossed at the ankles. Sunlight steamed from the window behind her, highlighting her waist long black hair. Her profile was tranquil. A smile played around at her lips and eyes stared merrily from photograph. She wore an elegant periwinkle gown that emphasized her slim figure. However, what was most surprising about the picture was the identical twin who mirrored her sister’s stance. While the twin was like her sister in looks, her emotions greatly differed. The twin’s eyes were less sincere. And while she smiled the smile seemed empty as if forced into the pose. Instead of the periwinkle gown her sister wore, the twin donned a black gothic dress.
A strong sense of déjà vu hit me. Who are the twins in the picture? Are they relatives of Alex? I was about to question the blond when a small spider abruptly crawled across the picture frame.
Now I can tell you for a fact that I don’t scare easily. In fact I don’t get scared at all. Well, okay, maybe sometimes… fine, maybe a lot. But that’s not my fault! You can’t blame me for freaking out every time a clown comes near me. Clowns are evil! EVIL! They are the work of the devil. The smile, the hair, the weird creepy makeup… it’s unnatural I tell you.
And so I get the shivers when I pass any doll store, again, not my fault. Maybe watching Chucky three in the morning alone wasn’t the smartest idea, but I swear the doll that my neighbor left at my house did twitch by itself.
And there are the mines… well, I don’t so much fear them, as I do detest them. If they want to pretend to be locked in a box then I say we give them what they want and lock them in a box. And to make sure they gain the maximum amount of acting experience we should throw the box out to sea so the mine can truly work his craft without any disturbance.
But of all my phobias I can state for a fact that I fear spiders the most, contributed by my unfortunate experience of being bit by a spider on the butt. I think I swelled about three times my size and I was bedridden for weeks. I learned my lesson that skinny-dipping in the Nile was a bad idea.
For someone who’s profusely afraid of spiders I think my next reaction was rational. I did what any reasonable, sane, totally sensible person would do – I scrambled onto the closest thing. Unfortunately, the closest thing happened to be Alex.
"What the… get off me you feathered freak!” Alex yelped at the sudden weight and promptly tried to pry me from his frame.
"Spider! Spider!” I shrieked and clamped my legs tighter around him.
The next few minutes was spent in a wrestling and screaming match, until a detached voice interrupted our struggle, “You know its bad manners to make out in the middle of the hall.”
"Huh?” I looked over at the speaker and found myself staring into a young boyish face. The boy looked at Alex, then me, and back to Alex with glittering emerald eyes. The boy folded his arms across his chest as he shook his head, muddling his short brown hair.
"I guess that means I won the bet,” the boy said in a monotone voice.
This time Alex was the one who looked over and questioned the boy, “Bet?”
"Hm… the one about you being a top.”
"A WHAT?” I yelled, giving the boy a shocked look. What twelve year old talks like that?
"Well, you’re definitely not a top,” the boy looked pointedly in my direction. “Especially not in that position.”
Position?
I turned to give my charge a questioning look then blushed when I realized what the brown haired boy was referring to. In my fright, I didn’t notice the compromising position I landed in when I latched onto Alex. My arms were wrapped around the blonde’s neck, and legs around his waist. During the struggle, Alex accidentally tripped on the rug and slammed me against the wall, creating the illusion that we were “making out.” Adding to my horror was the fact that we were close, faces only inches apart. At this angle I could see the bemused expression in Alex’s blue and green eyes.
"W-We weren’t…” I chocked as my mind rushed to find a logical excuse. Like anyone would really believe us if we told then we weren’t making out, but fighting. I hate situations like these.
"Could you let go?” Alex said, stepping back to give me room to step down. “You’re heavy.”
"He’s heavy?” the other boy asked in a mild disbelieving tone.
"I-I’m not heavy!” I argued. “I just have… untoned muscles!”
Alex rolled his eyes. “Can you let go of me now?”
I gave the blond a sheepish look and slide away. Alex started to straighten his cloths once he was free. I swiveled my head to look at the brunette who was still giving me an impassive look, but quickly turned to Alex when he spoke up, “This is Cain, my younger brother.”
"Eh,” I said in surprise. “You have a brother?”
"Who are you?”
I blinked and gave Cain my most charming smile. “I’m Loki. Your, um, brother’s friend.”
Cain just continued to stare at me with his catlike eyes. I gulped and gave a nervous chuckle. Maybe puppy eyes and charming smiles are lost to this family.
Alex ignored me and asked his brother, “Did you finish your homework?”
Cain shook his head. “Not yet.”
Alex nodded to a room down the hall. “Then you better finish it now since it’s getting late.”
Cain nodded his head and scampered down the hall, disappearing into the aforementioned room. What the heck just happened?
"What was that about?” I demanded, grabbing Alex’s arm. If I didn’t know better I would say that antisocial boy just acted nice?
"Nothing,” Alex replied and entered the room across from Cain’s, leaving me with no choice but to follow. The room was large and rather neat considering the blond was still a teenager. Books lay randomly around the room and a pile of papers sat on the desk. As I walked pass the bookshelf, I skimmed through the covers – The Prince, Hamlet, Angela’s Ashes, The Misanthrope, The Metamorphosis, and… Hot Summer Nights?
...I am not going to ask.
Alex moved around the room while randomly giving me curious looks before settling on his bed. I spotted a couch in the corner of the room and mirrored Alex’s action. Deciding that the best solution would be to explain everything to the boy, I opened my mouth, only to get interrupted when Alex asked, “Are you stalking me?”
"What?” I asked confused, “NO! Why would you think that?”
Alex looked skeptical. “You’re sure?”
"Of course I’m sure. It’s my mind.”
"...that’s not very comforting considering you’re neurotic,” Alex stated.
"I’m not neurotic, human,” I shot back. “If anyone is neurotic it’s you.”
"Whatever. If you aren’t stalking me then why are you here?”
"Well…” I said slowly, giving the boy a side-glance. “I’m going to be your new guardian angel.”
"...my what?”
"Guardian angel,” I said. “Surprise!”
Alex gave me a weird look then turned around and started to mutter, “…crazy… angel… get rid… stalker.”
"Wait, I’m not kidding!” I shouted in alarm. This was not going according to plan! He was supposed to welcome me with open arms. After all not anyone gets a cute guardian angel like me… okay, maybe he was suppose to welcome me after he slugged me, but he was suppose to believe me at the very least.
"...maybe… not religious… but… prayer?”
"Stop ignoring me!”
Alex sighed and gave me a cautious look. “How can you be my guardian angel? Aren’t you the angel of death?”
"...I got demoted.”
"Why am I not surprised,” Alex deadpanned.
"HEY!” I said, jumping to me feet. “It’s not like I wanted to be your guardian angel, but the orders are from the enormous, I mean, Notorious One so I can’t do anything about it. So just get use to the idea that I’m going to be sticking around for a while. Now where do I sleep?”
"S-Sleep?” Alex stuttered once he processed my words.
"Well, I can’t guard you if I’m in Heaven so I’ll have to stay with you,” I explained, taking pity on the boy. He truly did look confused.
Alex gave a long sigh. “What are the chances that you’ll disappear in the middle of the night?”
I pretended to think. “Slim to none.”
Alex pinched the bridge of his nose then pointed over to the couch I was just sitting on. “We don’t have any extra rooms so you’ll just have to sleep on that futon.”
"That’s fine. So we should create a good cover story for your family about why I’m staying with you?”
"My family?” Alex gave me a perplexed glance. “Other people can see you? Can’t you just turn invisible?”
"...yea, well, I don’t have that power.”
Alex rolled his eyes. “What a useless angel.”
"I’m not usele-”
"Look, it’s late and I’m tired,” Alex said, rubbing his eyes. That’s when I noticed the dark circles under the blonde’s eyes.
Uh, I totally forgot. The boy was in the hospital just that morning.
Alex continued, breaking into my mental musings. “I’ll just tell my family that you’re an exchange student who’s going to stay here for a while. But I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to introduce you since it’s too late to do it now.”
That seemed like a good cover story but…
"What about your brother? He saw me already.”
"He won’t say anything.”
"Okay,” I replied, seeing no reason to argue. Then Alex suddenly stood up and started to unbutton his shirt, revealing a smooth toned stomach.
"W-What are you doing?” I yelped when Alex proceeded to slip out of his khaki pants.
Alex snorted and gave me a ‘what do you think’ look. “Changing. I’m not going to bed in jeans.”
"You don’t have to do it in front of me!”
"What’s the problem? It’s not like I have anything you don’t have,” I heard Alex say. Then he turned his head, looking pointedly at a certain anatomy of mine. “Unless what they say about angels is true?”
"What? No! I have a… ugh… never mind. This is not a proper conversation topic,” I exclaimed and spun around in horror as I felt a blush creep into my cheeks.
Another score for the boy and the pathetic angel gets nothing. Not that I’m keeping score since guardian angels aren’t suppose to fight with their charge. We’ll have a temporary ceasefire… yea right.
"Are you going to sleep in that?” Alex suddenly said.
"Um, yea,” I said and watched as the blond walked to a dresser and rumbled through the drawer before pulling out and throwing me a pair of sweats.
"Oh… thanks,” I said when I caught them.
"Whatever,” Alex said, running his hands through his blond locks then proceeded to crawl into his bed. As I started to peel the cloths from my body, Alex rolled onto his side, facing away from me, and yanked the blanket over his body. I raised an eyebrow when a soft even breathing filled the room not soon after.
"I guess he was more tired than I thought,” I muttered while unfolding the futon. Once the bed was laid out, I collapsed onto the mattress and stared up at the white ceiling. Listening to the gentle hum of the heater and the chirping sounds of the crickets, I slowly drifted off to sleep, but not before murmuring, “Can’t believe I’m a freaking guardian angel.”
To be continued...
J.A. Welch: I'm happy you liked the story XD
BreathingFlames: Chocolate, yum! I'm actually starting to feel bad for Loki since he gets beaten up in every chapter. He just has the worst luck.
