âJelly, I'm going to talk to the doctors. I'll be back soon,' said her mum.
âWhy you call her
Jelly
?' Nonna grumbled. âShe already have good name.'
Jelly's mum raised an eyebrow at her.
âI'll be fine,' Jelly said and hopped up onto Nonna's bed.
Nonna frowned. âCourse she be fine. What you think? Here, bella. Look in Nonna's bag. I have chocolates.'
Jelly's mum left the room and Nonna shuffled over to make room for Jelly against the mountain of crisp white pillows.
âI have TV in bed. Good, eh?' Then she leaned in and frowned. âBut food! Food is
disgustoso
! You nonna no can eat this food. Look how skinny you nonna get.' She pinched a roll of fat from her wide, wide stomach, and laughed. Jelly smiled to hear her nonna back in full form.
They watched some bad daytime TV for a while, without bothering to put the sound up. Nonna caressed Jelly's small hand in her big rough one, her fingers as knobbled as old grapevines. Jelly used to hate it when Nonna wanted to hold her hand all the time, especially when she was little, but now she didn't mind so much.
A big white bird wheeled past the window, floating effortlessly against the sun-bleached sky. Jelly's thoughts turned to the angel. If anyone was to believe in angels it would be her nonna.
âNonna,' she said. âHave you ever seen an angel?' Nonna tightened her grasp around Jelly's hand. âNo,
mia bella
. When you nonno die I think I no want to live. Me and you nonno, we together for sixty-three years. You imagine? I don't know how I live after he gone. Every day I pray to be with him. But when I get the heart pain the other night all I can think is I no ready. I no ready for my angel to come.' Nonna cupped Jelly's cheek in her palm and her eyes filled with tears. âBecause I still have you,
mia
bella
. And my other three beautiful grandchildren. I want to see you grow up. Then I happy to be with you nonno. Now, I no ready. I want to stay.' She slid her hand down again to find Jelly's. âYou my angel.' She turned back towards the television.
They watched the screen in silence and an ache rushed through Jelly's heart.
Was the angel here for her nonna? Is that why it had come? Why else had it turned up on Christmas Eve, the very night that Nonna had fallen ill? If she had left the angel in the creek that night would her nonna now be� She couldn't bear to think about it.
The bird swooped back again, arcing and looping in the sky, and other thoughts filled her head. She remembered finding a butterfly in the garden when she was a little girl. She had picked it up by its wings and proudly carried it inside to show her dad. He had hugged her and explained that now she had touched the butterfly's wings it would no longer be able to fl y. Even the most gentle touch damaged them beyond repair. Sometimes, he said, it is better to leave nature alone.
Jelly had refused to believe him. She climbed up into the lemon tree and placed the butterfly on the highest branch where it swayed in the breeze, and she sat there holding her breath, bursting with hope. But the butterfly toppled down to the ground like a piece of blackened paper.
That afternoon, Jelly stayed in her room while Gino and Pik watched TV downstairs. Gino and Jelly were still not speaking to each other. But Jelly didn't want to be the one to break the silence. He can make it up to me, she thought. He's the one who's wrong this time.
She took out her sketchbook and pencils to make a card for Nonna. She drew an angel on the front of the card with two outstretched wings. She thought of their little angel and drew its sweet face and long curling hair. She wondered if it was missing its mother. Surely angels had families? Why wouldn't they? Even animals had families.
Suddenly, her room darkened and she heard a rumble of thunder. Out the window indigo clouds gathered like bruises. There was a sound like a stone dropping onto the tin roof. Then another and another. Hail? In the middle of summer? Her wooden blinds clattered in the wind and she stood up to close the window. Through the glass there was a flash of lightning and the whole sky lit up. That's when Jelly saw it. In the light. Hovering above the apricot tree. It was so bright she could barely make out its face, but it was there. A figure. Long and tall with blinding eyes and wild, winding hair. And wings. Huge wings that filled the width of her window and more. Much bigger than their angel. Staring right at her. Then it was gone.
There was another crack of lightning and, as she watched, her dear old apricot tree split clean in two. The right side crashed onto the side fence, flattening it. The left side fell on Nonna's vegetable patch. Jelly heard her dad bounding down the stairs, shouting, Maureen's shrill voice in the kitchen, Pik squealing. The hail fell harder; its roar was deafening. Jelly watched her dad run out into the back garden, his hands in his hair. The wind whipped around him. Then the lights went out. Jelly felt a stabbing pain in her head and then something wet dripping onto her hand. There was another fl ash of lightning and when she looked down, she saw blood falling from her nose. She moved back from the window, sat on the edge of her bed and pinched her nose. The hailstones turned to slicing rain. In the kitchen, her dad was shouting at Maureen to find candles, for Gino and Pik to stay calm.
Eventually, her nosebleed stopped and the pain in her head lessened. She got up from her bed to find her shoes. In the dark of the storm, she slipped downstairs and out the back door. Her dad was lighting candles and Maureen was comforting Pik, who was wailing. No one saw her leave. She ran out into the garden and was soaked within seconds. She stood in front of the apricot tree, her old friend, and tears pricked her eyes. The trunk was scorched black and great splinters, as tall as Jelly, pointed to the sky. She scrambled over the fallen branches and headed to the creek. The rain drove into her body like needles and the wind pulled at her like hands. I have to stop this, she thought. There is only one way to stop this and I know now what I must do.
Water rushed down the embankment, and her feet slid out from under her. She had never seen the creek so fierce. It roared up like a dragon, spiky with rain. As she ran along the bike path, the sky cracked open again with light. On St Peter's Road, people were scurrying for shelter. A car skidded on the tram tracks. When Jelly reached Ivy Street, the rain suddenly cleared. The clouds rolled away and it was day again. She slowed to a walk, her breath coming in gasps. Blood was pounding in her head. One by one, people opened their front doors to stare up at the sky.
Now that it was light again Jelly began to wonder how she could possibly get the angel down to the creek. In broad daylight. And on her own. As if her fears had been spoken aloud, she saw two figures on bikes in the distance, winding their way towards her. Budgie and Jack. When they spotted her, Jack picked up speed and Budgie followed him. Jelly thought about turning back, but then they were beside her.
Jack rode his bike a full circle around her then skidded to a stop. âYou,' he said. âStill hanging around.'
Budgie showed his yellow teeth.
Jelly said nothing. She had nothing to say.
âDidn't we tie you up tightly enough last time?' Jack dropped his bike to the ground and stepped over its shiny frame. He shoved his hands into his pockets and his elbows stuck out like wings. âYou're a pain, aren't you? Hanging around like a bad smell. Why do you keep coming here, anyhow? What's in the school that you're so interested in?'
Jelly looked at the ground. Rain dripped from her clothes onto the wet footpath. It trickled down the backs of her knees. âIâ' she started.
That's when they heard the sound. Banging on tin. Coming from the shed.
Jack chuckled. âAh, that's what it is then? You keeping something in there? You wanna come and show us?'
âThere's nothing,' she said. âThat's just the tool shed. There's nothing in there.'
But she shouldn't have spoken. At the sound of her voice, the banging became louder.
âReally?' Jack grinned. âMaybe we should see for ourselves.'
He stuck his foot under the wire and lifted it. Budgie leaned his bike against a pole and shoved Jelly aside as he passed. Jack slid under and Budgie went to follow him. For a moment Jelly wasn't sure he would get through, but then, with a grunt, he was on the other side. Jelly stood frozen to the footpath. Jack and Budgie sauntered over to the tool shed. As they neared it the banging stopped. Jelly's instinct told her to run away. She could save herself. She need never know what happened to the angel. She need never come back this way again. But she knew she couldn't do it. It was her fault the angel was trapped. She couldn't leave it to Jack and Budgie.
She watched them pause at the shed door. Jack opened it and peered in. All was quiet. Budgie nudged him and the two boys stepped into the shed. Suddenly the door slammed shut and there was a wild scream. At first she thought it was the angel and her blood ran cold. She slid under the fence and ran towards them. They were hurting it! But then the scream came again and she knew it wasn't the angel. It was a boy's voice. There was a crashing sound and more banging. She ran to the shed door and pulled at it, but it wouldn't open.
âLet me in!' she shouted. âDon't hurt it. Let me in.'
Suddenly the door swung open, catching her in the face, and she stumbled backwards. She looked up to see who was coming out. It was Gino! He had the picnic blanket in his arms and he shoved it at Jelly. Then he slammed the door shut and bolted it. âQuick,' he said. âYou take it.'
The blanket began to scrabble in her arms. A long white arm reached out, then the angel's head burst through the folds.
Jelly's mind was spinning. âWhat's going on?'
âHurry! Before they break the door down.' Gino leaned against the door, which was rocking on its hinges as Jack and Budgie thumped and shouted to be let out. âGo! I can't hold these guys in for much longer. And I sure don't want to be here when they get out. Go! I'll head home to cover for you.'
Jelly raced to the fence. As she ran down Ivy Street it began to rain again. Lightly at first, then harder and harder. The cold rain seemed to soak through her skin and course through her veins. She saw a vision of Nonna in hospital, lying on her stiff white bed. A bright light flashed at her window. It was an angel. No, it couldn't be. Nonna wasn't ready. She wasn't ready to go. The angel couldn't be here for her. But then Jelly wondered if you really got a say in these things. Her feet carried her towards the creek. She didn't know where else to go, what else to do.
She reached the bike path and slowed so as not to slip, but as they neared the water the angel grew restless in her arms. It pushed out from the blanket and Jelly toppled over, trying to keep hold of it. She landed hard on her injured knees and roared out in pain. The angel scrambled over her, panicking, and scuttled towards the road.
âNo,' Jelly shouted, and pulled herself up. âNot that way!'
Jelly grabbed at its leg but the angel's skin was slippery with rain and it slid from her grasp. Quickly, she picked up the picnic blanket and tossed it over the angel. The weight of the wet blanket threw it to the ground. She pounced on it, rolled it tightly again and lifted it up. Her knees were bleeding and she limped towards the creek.
The tunnel waited, mouth wide. Jelly carried the angel inside where no one could see them. The rain was so heavy that there was little risk of anyone being on the bike path and she was hidden from the road by the bridge. A tram clacked overhead. Here, in the gloomy light, she let the blanket fall away from the angel's face. It looked up at her and she saw that its glassy eyes were calm. She knew that this was the right thing to do. The only thing to do. And she prayed that all the bad things would stop when the angel was returned. That whatever was looking for it, that thing in the light in her window, that thing that killed her tree, that got in her head, that made Nonna sick, would go away and leave them alone once the angel was safely back where it belonged.