I was glad I wasn’t a guardian angel; they were usually overworked. It was their job to listen to the prayers of their many human charges and guide them out of harm’s way. It could get fairly hectic — I’d once seen a guardian try to come to the aid of a sick child, a woman going through a messy divorce, a man who’d just been laid off, and the victim of a car accident all in the same instant. There was so much work to do and never enough of us to go around.
___
Xavier and I sat under the shade of a maple tree in the quadrangle, eating lunch. I couldn’t help but be aware of his hand, resting just inches from my own. It was slender but masculine. He wore a simple silver band around his index finger. I was so engrossed in looking at him that I hardly noticed when he spoke to me.
“Can I ask a favor?”
“What? Oh, of course. What do you need?”
“Could you proofread this speech I’ve written? I’ve done it twice, but I’m sure I’ve missed things.”
“Sure. What’s it for?”
“A leadership conference next week,” he said offhandedly, as if it were something he did every day. “You don’t have to do it now. You can take it home if you like.”
“No, it’s fine.”
I was flattered that he valued my opinion enough to ask me. I spread the pages flat on the grass and read through them. Xavier’s speech was eloquent, but he’d missed some minor grammatical errors that I spotted easily.
“You’re a good editor,” he commented. “Thanks for doing it.”
“It’s no trouble.”
“Seriously, I owe you one. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” I said.
“Yes, I do. By the way, when’s your birthday?”
I was taken aback by the question.
“I don’t like presents,” I said quickly, in case he got any ideas.
“Who said anything about presents? I’m just asking for your date of birth.”
“Thirtieth of February,” I said, throwing out the first date that came to mind.
Xavier raised an eyebrow.
“Are you sure about that?”
I panicked. What had I said wrong? I ran through the months in my head and realised my mistake. Oops — there were only twenty-eight days in February!
“I mean thirtieth of April,” I corrected and grinned sheepishly.
Xavier laughed. “You’re the first person I’ve ever known to forget her own birthday.”
Even when I made a fool of myself, my conversations with Xavier were always engaging.
He could talk about the most mundane of things and still manage to make them fascinating. I loved the sound of his voice and would have been happy listening to him read names from a phone book. Was this a symptom of falling in love, I wondered?
As Xavier scribbled notes in the margins of his speech, I bit into my roast vegetable focaccia and made a face as a strangely bitter flavor assaulted my taste buds. Gabriel had introduced us to most food products, but there were still plenty of things I had yet to try. I lifted the top cautiously and peered at the substance smeared under the vegetables.
“What’s that?” I asked Xavier.
“I believe it goes by the name of eggplant,” he replied. “Sometimes called aubergine in fancy restaurants.”
“No, the other stuff.” I pointed at the layer of crumbly, green paste.
“Dunno, pass it over.” I watched him take a tentative bite and chew thoughtfully. “Pesto,” he announced.
“Why does everything have to be so complicated,” I said irritably, “including sandwiches?”
“You’re so right,” Xavier mused. “Pesto does make life much more complicated.” He laughed and took another bite, pushing his own untouched salad wrap toward me.
“Don’t be silly,” I said. “Eat your lunch, I can cope with pesto.”
But he refused to return my sandwich despite my whining. I gave up and ate his instead, enjoying the familiarity between us.
“Don’t feel bad,” he said. “I’m a guy, I’ll eat anything.”
On our way to class after lunch, we came across a commotion in the corridor. People were talking agitatedly about some kind of accident. No one was too sure who was involved, but students were moving en masse toward the main doors, where a crowd had gathered outside around something or somebody. I sensed human pain and felt a wave of panic rise in my chest.
I followed Xavier through the crowd, which seemed to part instinctively to let the school captain through. Once outside my eyes found the shattered glass littering the pavement, and I followed the trail to a car with its hood completely smashed in, smoke curling from the engine. There had been a head-on collision between two seniors. One of the drivers was standing by his car, looking dazed and disoriented. Thankfully, he seemed to have suffered only minor scratches. My gaze shifted from his mangled Volkswagen to linger on the car now entangled with it. I realized with a jolt that the other driver was still inside, slumped in the seat, her head lolling against the steering wheel. Even from where I stood, I could see that she was seriously hurt.
The crowd watched with open mouths, unsure what was required of them. Only Xavier managed to keep his wits about him. He vanished from my side to call for help and alert the teachers.
Not entirely sure what I should be doing, acting more on impulse than anything else, I moved toward the car, coughing as thick smoke filled my throat. The driver’s door had been crushed from the impact and had almost completely detached from the body of the vehicle. Ignoring the hot metal that dug into my palms, I pulled it free and froze when I saw the girl close up. Blood was flowing freely from a cut on her forehead, her mouth was open, but her eyes were closed and her body was limp.
Even in Heaven I had always felt faint watching scenes involving bloodshed unfold on earth, but today I hardly thought about it. I looped my arms under the girl’s shoulders and, as carefully as I could, began to pull her from the wreckage. She was heavier than me, so I was grateful when two well-built boys, still in their gym gear, sprinted over to help. We laid the girl on the pavement at a safe distance from the smoking vehicle.
I realized that was the extent to which the boys could help. They both kept looking nervously over their shoulders, waiting for assistance to arrive. But there wasn’t time to wait.
“Keep the crowd back,” I instructed them and turned my attention to the girl. I knelt down and placed two fingers against her neck, as Gabriel had once shown me. I couldn’t find a pulse. If she was breathing at all, it wasn’t obvious through any visible sign. In my head I called out for Gabriel to come and help me. There wasn’t a chance I could get through this on my own. I was already losing the battle. The warm blood oozing from the gash on her forehead had become matted in her hair. There were bluish rings under her eyes and she was deathly pale. I suspected internal injuries but couldn’t put my finger on exactly what they were.
“Hold on,” I whispered close to her ear. “Help is coming.”
I cradled her head, sticky blood staining my hands, and focused on sending my healing energy through her. I knew I had only minutes to help her. Her body had almost surrendered the fight, and I could feel her soul trying to detach itself. Soon she would be looking at her inert body from outside it.
I concentrated so hard I felt I too might lose consciousness. I fought back the light-headedness and focused even more deeply. I imagined a power source surging from a deep well within me, traveling through my blood and arteries to charge my fingertips and flow into the body on the ground. As I felt the power draining from me, I thought that maybe, just maybe, the girl might survive.