From Heaven... Ch. 01

As I came in to land, I folded my wings, settling lightly on the balls of my feet. The path was rough, small stones and twigs pressing through my thin soles.

I looked around. It was getting dark, and I could feel that the breeze was cooling. I gave the little shrug that I'd been taught, and my wings vanished, leaving me with only a slight tingling between my shoulder blades.

I started to walk toward the lights in the distance, remembering the instructions I'd been given: Find him, help him.

As I reached the first buildings, I looked around, trying to take everything in. Lights were everywhere, flashing and swirling, forming pictures I had to concentrate to make out. People were walking in couples and groups, and I thought some of the girls were dressed a little like me, though more revealingly.

I felt eyes on me, and turned, seeing a group of young men looking at me. "All by yourself, darling?" one of them called, his companions grinning.

I walked on, searching for the one face that meant something to me. I reached an intersection, and as I stepped out I felt a hand on my shoulder gently restraining me. "Careful – you just missed the green."

I turned, and felt the shock of recognition. It was him.

I took a deep breath. "Thank you, Tim."

His brow furrowed, a puzzled smile playing on his lips. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

I smiled. "You could say that – it was quite a while ago."

He grinned. "Can't be that long ago – you can only be around my daughter's age, right?"

I returned his smile, but didn't speak.

He shook his head. "Sorry, the memory's not as good as it was, remind me of your name?"

"Ariel," I said. He waited for a moment for a last name, then said, "Well, pleased to meet you again, Ariel. I'm sure when you tell me how we met, everything will start to come back to me."

"Please, call me Ria, most people do," I said.

"Well, Ria," he said, "are you in town for long?"

"I don't know yet," I said truthfully. "Depends how things go."

"Where are you staying?"

"I haven't found anywhere yet, I've only just arrived."

He smiled. "Then that's easily solved. You're welcome to stay at my place for as long as you need – now Sally's at college, there's plenty of room."

"Thanks, Tim," I said, "that'd be great."

"I was just walking back to the car," he said. "Is there anything else you need to do in town just now?"

I shook my head. "Then let's get home," he said, "and I'll make us something to eat. Do you have any luggage anywhere?" "No, travelling light," I smiled.

We walked together to a side street where his car was parked, and he held the door for me. I settled in the leather seat, and he slid behind the wheel.

"Don't forget your seat belt," he said, leaning close to me as he reached across to fasten my belt. "Compulsory in this state."

I nodded, distracted by a hint of fragrance, different to anything I'd known before. "Nice smell," I said, without thinking.

He smiled. "Glad you like it – Sally usually gets me aftershave for my birthday, and this one's my favourite."

He started the engine, and I looked out of the window curiously, trying to get used to the strange sensation of moving without any effort on my own part.

After a few minutes, Tim turned into a driveway, and pulled up outside a building, only its outline visible in the dark. He pressed the catch to release my seatbelt, then got out and walked round to open the door for me.

I got to my feet, again feeling the stones of the driveway pressing against my soles.

Tim opened the door, turning on the lights. We walked into a wide hall, the floor polished wood, a small but brilliant chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

He indicated the stairs. "Up to the first landing, the door on the right, that's Sally's old room. It has an en-suite, take your time freshening up while I start to cook."

I followed his directions, and closed the door of the room behind me, sitting on the bed to gather my thoughts. So I was here, I'd found him – that must have been a divine appointment in a city this size. He'd accepted me, though I'd have to be even more creative in explaining how he and I had first met.

I glanced at myself in the long mirror on the wall, wondering how he saw me – dark hair, eyes that were never quite the same colour twice, the soft, almost feathery texture of the dress that reached to just above my knees.

I opened the door and followed the sound of Tim singing quietly to himself. I reached the kitchen, and he turned. "Hope you like Chinese."

"Love it," I nodded, hoping I was right.

"Have a seat. What can I get you to drink?"

"Just water, please."

He poured a long glass for me, adding ice cubes from a dispenser, then raised his own glass, full of a dark liquid. "Cheers."

I sipped, the water cool against my tongue.

"So what brings you to this part of the world?" Tim said, continuing to stir the pan.

"I have a job here," I said.

"That's good," he said. "Doing what?"

I hesitated briefly. "I can't really talk about it."

Tim picked up my hesitation, and held up his hand. "Don't worry, I understand. The world's a lot more complicated these days, and even the good guys have secrets."

He tasted the sauce he was stirring. "Mm, think this is ready." He filled two plates, and put one in front of me. "Don't worry, I won't make you use chopsticks," he smiled.

I watched him pick up his fork and take a bite, then did as he'd done. The rich taste of the sauce on my tongue was like nothing I'd ever experienced, and I closed my eyes to concentrate on the flavour.

"You really look like you're enjoying that," Tim said.

I opened my eyes again. "It's really good." I ate slowly, and Tim watched me, smiling.

Finally I put my fork down and sat back a little.

"Let's get more comfortable," said Tim. I followed him into the living room, and sat down in one of the deep armchairs.

"Can I get you a coffee, or something stronger?" Tim asked.

I shook my head. "But don't let me stop you."

He refilled his glass, then sprawled on the sofa opposite me. "So, put me out of my misery, when did you and I first meet?"

"I suppose it was when Sally was about ten," I said. "I think she had a bit of a tough time."

Tim nodded. "I did what I could, but it was hard, Sarah not being there." He shook his head. "I still don't remember, sorry."

He looked up. "But thank you for doing what you could for her – I'm grateful."

I nodded. "No problem."

He glanced at the clock. "Do you want to turn in yet? I usually read for a while, but you can go to bed if you like."

I hesitated. "You're going to think this is a little strange, but actually I don't sleep."

He looked puzzled. "You mean, like insomnia?"

"Kind of. It's just the way I've always been."

He shook his head. "I've heard of it, but you're the first person I've met. Well, there are plenty of books – help yourself. Or you can put the TV on – I don't hear it when I'm upstairs."

He stood. "Think I will call it a day, actually. Do you have to be at work in the morning?"

I nodded. "Not early, though."

"OK. Well, I'll say goodnight, then. Sleep tight."

I watched him walk up the stairs, then heard a door open and close.

I waited a few minutes, then went up to my own room, closing my eyes and extending my senses outwards. I saw the garden, silent – then movement, a fox walking across the grass, vanishing back into the woods. In the bedroom across the hall, Tim's sleeping form, his breathing slow and steady.

I tentatively lay back on the bed, feeling the softness of the pillow. I turned, resting my cheek on my folded hands, and settled down to keep watch.

In the morning I sensed Tim stirring, and carefully withdrew my inner gaze from his room. I walked down the stairs, and when he came into the kitchen, his hair wet from the shower, I was sitting at the table.

He shook his head. "Wish I knew how you girls do it. This time in the morning, and you're already dressed, not a hair out of place."

He looked more closely at my face, and seemed to be about to say something else, then changed his mind. "Did you find something for breakfast yet?"

"I've had what I need," I assured him. I watched as he poured cereal into a bowl, then added milk. The crackling of the cereal was intriguing, and he noticed me listening.

"These are Sally's favourite, too," he said. "We always used to listen to them together."

I watched him eat, then he stood to drop his empty bowl in the sink. "I'd better get going," he said. "I've left you a spare key on the table by the door. Do you know what time you'll be back in tonight? I usually finish about six."

"I'll be here when you get back," I promised.

"Great. Well, I hope your first day goes well," he said. "Don't let the boss be too hard on you."

"Thanks," I grinned, wondering what Tim's reaction would be if he had the slightest idea who my boss was.

I heard the door close behind him, and a few moments later the sound of the car engine starting. I got to my feet, and went up to my room, standing in front of the mirror. I closed my eyes and willed, feeling the familiar sense of lightness, and when I opened my eyes again, the mirror reflected only the empty room.

I walked back down the stairs, passing the key on the table without a glance, and stepped through the closed door, feeling a faint hum as its insubstantial outline passed through me.

I stood on the gravel of the drive, and gave a shrug, feeling again the familiar sensation of my wings arching behind and above me. I flexed them, rising into the air, and soon I was behind and above Tim's car, watching as he drove down the freeway humming and tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the music from his favourite radio station.

I extended my senses, and noticed a truck on an intersecting road, its driver oblivious to the lights against him at the approaching junction as he spoke on his cellphone.

I thought, then made a rapid decision. I projected my will at the lights, turning the one facing Tim red. I watched as he slowed, the speeding truck shooting across the intersection in front of him.

I felt Tim's heart accelerate, then he shook his head. "Someone must be looking out for me," he muttered.

He continued on his journey to work, parking outside the office building, and I following him up to his office and took up a position in the corner.

Nothing as dramatic happened for the rest of the day, though I did surreptitiously prevent his mug of coffee from sliding off the edge of the desk as he moved a stack of papers. At the end of the day, Tim made the journey home, and as he approached the gates at the end of his drive, I pulled ahead of him, landing in the hall and quickly returning to visibility. I slipped the key into a fold of my dress, and went through to the living room, settling back into the chair I'd occupied the previous evening.

I heard Tim's key in the door, and he walked into the room, looking weary. "Hi, Ria. How did your day go?"

I smiled. "OK – think the boss was pleased with one or two things I did. You?"

He nodded. "Though I nearly didn't get there at all – some idiot ran a crossing as I was on the way, it was pure luck that the lights were changing to red as I got there."

I managed what I hoped was a convincing frown. "Wow, I'm glad you're OK."

He smiled. "Well, maybe it's more than luck, maybe someone up there is looking out for me."

He glanced at his watch. "Not sure I can be bothered to cook – I can phone for pizza if you like?"

I nodded. "That'd be lovely." I pulled a sense of something strongly-flavoured, spicy, from his mind. "Not too spicy, though."

He grinned. "Sally's the same. Don't worry, I'll get you Hawaiian, I'll have pepperoni."

He went out of the room to call, then came back in with two glasses.

"No excuses today," he said. "A drink to celebrate your first day at work, and my narrow escape." He saw my hesitation. "Or do you not drink at all?"

"It's fine," I reassured him. "I'm just not that used to it."

I took the glass from his hand, and sipped, feeling warmth spreading over my tongue, down my throat, through my body.

"This is amazing," I said.

Tim grinned. "Glad you like it – there's a little independent wine merchant nearby who imports just a few bottles of this from the growers."

I sipped again, relaxing. A few moments later the doorbell rang, and Tim went to answer, returning with two boxes. He handed one to me, and I felt the warmth as I placed it on my lap.

"Might as well eat in here," Tim said, opening his and carefully lifting a slice. I followed suit, and the contrast of the tangy cheese and the sweet pineapple was almost overwhelming.

I closed my eyes to enjoy the flavour as I had done the previous day, and Tim said, "Ria, you're amazing. I've never met anyone who, well, savours life quite the way you do."

We ate in comfortable silence, and when we'd finished Tim took the boxes out to the kitchen. He refilled our glasses, and I drank again.

I wondered if it was my imagination or whether I was feeling a little light-headed. "Think that's enough wine for me," I said.

Tim nodded. "Work again tomorrow, but then we can enjoy the weekend."

He glanced across at me. "Unless you already have plans?" I shook my head. "I don't want to be in your way, though."

He grinned. "Are you kidding? Having company will be a real treat, and I can show you around a little as you're new to the area. We can get out of town, it's not far to the desert and I know some places where we can see some amazing wildlife."

"I'd love that," I said, my voice sincere.

We talked for a while longer, then Tim suppressed a yawn. "Well," he said, "I'll leave you to it – see you for breakfast."

Again I waited till he was upstairs, and this time went into his room, willing myself into invisibility before sitting in the chair that faced the bed, watching the rise and fall of Tim's chest as he slept.

The next day passed without incident, though I followed Tim's car closely through the heavy Friday rush hour traffic. This time he cooked Italian, and I enjoyed the rich tomato flavour of the sauce, enhanced by the parmesan Tim offered to grate over my meal.

The following morning, we had breakfast together, and I finally sampled the cereal. "Do you want sugar on it?" asked Tim.

I shook my head. "The milk's really rich, creamy."

"How about a picnic for lunch?" Tim suggested. "I've got stuff in."

"Good idea," I said. He quickly packed a bag, and we got in the car. A few miles out of town, Tim turned off onto a dusty track, driving for a few more minutes before pulling up.

"It's a bit of a walk down to the canyon," he said, "but I've brought water, and it's worth it when we get there."

After we'd walked for about an hour, Tim was starting to perspire, and he wiped his face with a handkerchief, taking a long drink from the water bottle.

He looked across at me. "You look as cool as a cucumber," he said, "you obviously tolerate heat better than I do. But you still need to drink."

He wiped the top of the bottle with the back of his hand, and passed it to me. I drank, then handed it back.

We reached the bottom of the canyon, and Tim stopped. "Cooler here."

He pointed up at the rock face. "There's what we came to see."

I shaded my eyes and looked. "There's a ledge."

He nodded. "Wait." He leaned against a boulder, and I leaned next to him, feeling his arm just touching mine.

After a few minutes, I saw movement in the air above the canyon, and a bird came to a graceful landing on the ledge. It was carrying something in its talons, and I thought I saw movement further back in the ledge. I carefully extended my senses to look closer.

"Oh!" I said. "There are chicks."

Tim smiled. "You have good eyes – I can hardly see them. Yes, there are four – and the mother seems to be a good hunter, they're all doing well."

I saw the image in his mind of the female bird swooping on an unsuspecting small creature, and reminded myself that in this world, death was an integral part of life.