Angel Fall (4 page)

Horrified, Alex pressed his face to the window. The jet was only a few hundred feet above the water. Waves like mountains raged and vanished beneath them. Jagged streaks of lightning crashed into the foam with a thousand blue-green explosions. No one could land in that and survive. They were going to die. Strangely, with the loss of hope, his terror vanished. Pulling the shade, he turned to Amanda and Tori. More than anything he wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what, so all he could do was stare at them helplessly.

F
rom the windows of the aircraft no one saw what was happening high above. Over a screaming wind from deep within the universe, a brilliant star was beginning to shine…as an ancient voice sung from the pages of an empty book…hanging from a chain of gold…above the cloth of twilight.

S
lowly Tori Lancaster opened her eyes.

Something warm was against her cheek. It was a blanket. To her surprise she discovered that she was lying on a little mountain of blankets in the center of a huge raft. And the raft was floating on water. It was a dream, she told herself.

Amanda was in the raft too, lying half-hidden, snoring away, under a blanket of her own. Tori was about to close her eyes and doze off again when a wonderful smell made her turn and glance in a new direction. Instantly she was wide awake.

Someone else was in the raft and this person wasn’t asleep at all. Near the pile of blankets sat a battered airplane chair, and seated in it was a very tall old woman, smiling. Tori had never seen anyone so odd. Everything about her was strange: her hair, her eyes, and especially her clothes. A faint mist drifted around them.

In her hand she held a steaming cup and on her lap sat a plate of freshly baked cookies. That’s where the delicious smell was coming from. And if all that wasn’t freaky enough, next to her chair sprawled a dog the size of a small couch with a baby asleep between his paws.

“Good evening.” The woman’s voice was deep and creaky but not unpleasant. She took a loud sip from the cup and snorted deliciously as the steam circled her nose. “Cookies. Cookies here. Want a cookie? They’re fresh. Baked one half minute ago.”

Tori was so surprised that she couldn’t say a word. All she could do was reach across the blankets and grab her sister. The only response she got was an unintelligible grunt that sounded like, “Go ’way, jerk.”

But Tori wouldn’t go away. She just kept poking.

“I said,
go away
.”

If there was one thing Amanda hated, it was being awakened on a Saturday morning by Tori. And it happened every Saturday morning. Every single time she wanted to sleep in, Tori bugged her to death until she had to wake up. Well, she was
sick
of it. Rolling over, she was about to give her a whack when her eyes opened and she saw where her sister was pointing.

An old woman…a dog…and a baby…in a raft in the middle of the ocean.

Suddenly she began to remember. And what she remembered was absolutely terrifying. The last moments before the crash. The screams. The plane hitting the water. Everything breaking apart. Then darkness. Jumping up, she stared at Tori. The look made Tori remember too. They stared around.

“Alex…”

He wasn’t in the raft.

“Oh no…” Tori’s lower lip began to tremble.

“Now, now, now, now, now, I know everything’s upset. A little jerky. Twisted upside down. But it’s going to be fine.” The old woman spoke quickly but with great gentleness. “The gangly one. The one with lots of hair. That’s who you’re looking for, isn’t it?”

“He’s our brother. Do you know where he is?” Amanda could hardly get the words out. It felt like someone had punched her in the stomach.

“Well, I can tell you this. Not a thing was lost in the flying. Certainly not your brother. Never something like that. A chair maybe. A pillow. A hundred indigestible meals. But not a brother. He’s alive and well. Not comfortable, not quite that. His landing wasn’t as padded as ours. Bumpy, but all right. You’ve got my word, and I always tell the truth.”

“You mean he’s on another raft?” Amanda felt a glimmer of hope.

“Yes. Specifically, another raft. Seriously, that indeed.”

“But…how do you know that?” She stared at the old woman’s eyes. It was obvious that she was blind. “I mean…I mean…you couldn’t have…seen him.”

“A minor detail. You’d be surprised how much a blind person knows. And that’s a fact. Now, Grandfather is taking care of your brother, and he couldn’t be in safer hands anywhere in the universe. No indeed. Not ever.”

“But…we don’t have a grandfather.” Tori’s voice sounded small and scared. “We were traveling by ourselves.”

“
By yourselves?
What’s that? What did you say?” A strange catch came into the woman’s voice. “Surely, positively, you can be certain of one thing. You’ve never lived a minute, not a second, not a day or two, never ever…
by yourselves
.” Turning away, she dabbed at her eyes and cleared her throat. “Now, I know you’re frightened, who wouldn’t be? Who indeed? But this is not a time for sadness and tears. We’ve got enough water all around us. No need for it to drip out of our faces. Your brother is going about his business, and we must be about ours. Which, at present, is eating cookies. So nibble one of these before I give them to our very large friend over here, who could eat the whole platter in a single gulp.” At this, the old dog perked up his ears.

There was a moment of uncertainty. Tori wanted to cry over Alex and couldn’t understand why he wasn’t there. Yet being with this peculiar woman seemed to make everything all right. A tear trickled down her cheek. But then she reached out and took a cookie. One bite made her feel much better. It was the most delicious cookie that she had ever eaten. And it was
hot
…as though right out of the oven.

“Now, you—you, my dear. A cookie for you.”

The plate was extended to Amanda, who shook her head.

“No, thanks. I’m not hungry.”

In fact, Amanda wanted to throw up. None of this could be real. Dogs and babies and weird old women in rafts? Not a chance. So if it wasn’t real, that meant it was a nightmare. Or worse, she was dead. That made a lot of sense. No one could have lived through that crash. The truth must be that she had died, and because of her evil life, God had stuck her in a raft with a wacko blind woman, a baby, a dog, and Tori to wake her up every single morning forever. Amanda felt the contents of her stomach move closer to her throat. But then she looked up to find the woman’s mysterious eyes gazing at her. And there was something coming from deep within them that looked like a glowing mist. When it touched her skin, it warmed the fear away. Suddenly she felt loved. Loved almost more than she could bear. It hurt, like tasting something wonderful when you’ve been starving. The first touch on your tongue brings aching pain.

“Is your dog a guide dog?” Amanda was glad that Tori had asked the question. It made the woman stop looking at her.

“Oh, he guides all right. Yes, he does indeed.” She chuckled. “But he has his own way of doing it, and he doesn’t stop for traffic lights.”

“I think I remember when you got on the plane.” Tori crossed her legs and leaned against the side of the raft. “I was mostly asleep, but it was in Boston, wasn’t it?”

The old woman nodded, “Yes, Boston, Boston. Massachusetts, somewhere. Foggy place.”

“We’re from Chicago. Did you have to wait long at the airport? We had to wait forever. I got tired and slept almost the whole flight. I usually don’t sleep on planes. But this time I did. We were going to London. Where were you going?”

Suddenly Amanda wanted Tori to shut up. “Everybody was going to London, Tori. That’s where the plane was going.” She gave her sister a withering look.

“I wasn’t.”

Both girls stared at her. For a moment Amanda thought she was joking. But she didn’t laugh.

“What do you mean? Were you on the wrong plane?” It seemed impossible that anyone could make such a mistake. Surely the airline people would stop them, especially a blind person.

“No mistake. It was the right plane. But London, the bigger foggy place, wasn’t where I was going. Planes go up, but they never go down where you want them to. Unless you make special extremely unusual arrangements. And that’s always expensive.”

Amanda realized that every time the old woman spoke it grew harder to understand what she meant.

“Our dad lives in England. We were on our way to visit him.” Amanda didn’t know why she said it. It wasn’t even true. They were on their way to
live
with him.

“I know. Indeed, yes, everything, all about it.” There was a sadness in the creaky voice that made Amanda glance up at her.

“Yes, I know the Lancasters, each and all of them. Five. Then four. Before that six. Eight. Seven. Back and back and back, and so forth, etcetera, etcetera, many, many years.”

“What?”

“Families, families. Lancaster families. The number of people in them. And you. I’ve seen both of you, all three of you, many times. Times over times. A lot of times.”

The mist around the woman’s eyes became glistening drops. “Your name is Amanda…Manda-Manda of the many questions. Amanda who hides on top of the garage to cry.”

Amanda sucked in her breath. The look on the woman’s face was disturbing. The sightless eyes focused with full attention. Not at all the way adults usually “listened” to teenagers. And yet it was so odd and loving. If the love hadn’t been there, she would have been terrified. Nobody knew about the roof. Not a single soul. The high place under the tree. It was her secret. Yet, somehow, a complete stranger knew all about it.

Then the mysterious face turned toward her sister. “And you. You are Tori…Tori-Tori who buries dolls under bushes. The lilac purple kind. Tori who dreams and dreams, so many dreams. And in the dreams she cries for her father. The doll’s name? My brain doesn’t remember. Tell me, tell me.”

“I…I’ve forgotten.” Tori hadn’t forgotten at all.

“In a bag you buried it. The girl who loves to bury things. But love can bring them back again. See? See here?”

From under her shawl she removed a dirt-covered plastic bag and handed it to Tori. Inside was the doll that she had buried so long ago. A princess doll with golden hair and a flowing gown. The one her father had given her when he went away.

“Something Wendy. Wendy-Wendy.
Golden Wendy
. That’s it. That’s the name.”

At that moment Amanda understood a great deal about her sister that she hadn’t known before. On the outside Tori had seemed strangely unhurt by their father’s leaving. For a few weeks she had cried at night, and Amanda had gone in to comfort her. But after that she seemed okay. Once in awhile she had whimpered in her sleep, but not often. Everybody has bad dreams. All bubbles and light…that was Tori. Always trying to make their mother happy.

Except for a few times, when she destroyed things. Smashed them. Ripped them up. Always her own things. Never anybody else’s. Things that had been precious to her like the Golden Wendy. She’d said she had lost it. Buried under the lilac bush. How had the old woman known?

Neither girl could speak.

“Wondering, wondering…the young ones are wondering. Don’t wonder how. Hows and whys and whens and wheres—who cares? Oh yes, I know Amanda and Tori and Alex-Alex their brother. I know them very well.”

Rummaging in her shawl once more, the mysterious lady pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed her eyes. “Now look here, just look at this. You’ve got me crying. And there’s nothing to cry about, not anymore, not yet anyway. This is one of the grandest days in history and we’re not going to waste it with puddles of tears. Just look out there.”

The girls turned and looked at the ocean.

“Grandfather’s bubbling right along. He’s doing his job. Every bit of it. And you don’t see him crying. So let’s just stop this silliness right now.” She blew her nose loudly and continued staring at the water as though if she looked at the girls more tears would come.

Amanda and Tori had a thousand questions. But they didn’t ask a single one. A great peace settled over them. Nothing made the least bit of sense, but it didn’t seem to matter. All they knew was that they were with a perfect stranger who understood them better than anyone ever had in all their lives. For a long time the raft drifted through gently rippling water.

Suddenly Tori crawled to the edge and started to reach over the side. “Is it okay if I get a drink?” Cupping her hands, she was about to dip in. Instantly the lined face jerked to attention. “No!” The command was so loud and sharp that both girls jumped.

“Don’t even think such a thing. Not once. Not ever. It’ll make you sick. What’s worse, it’ll make
him
sick. He’s got a very delicate constitution. Doesn’t like being in people’s mouths. Can’t say I blame him. Gives him gas and we don’t want that. There’s nothing worse than riding on his belly when he starts to burp.”

“Who?” Amanda stared at her as though she were crazy.

“Grandfather. The Old Man of the Ocean. Who else?”

“The old man of the ocean?”

“He’s down there, you know. Deep down, close to the surface, everywhere. All eyes. Never stops watching. But what
is
the matter with me? Of course, you’re both thirsty. What have I been thinking about? Come right over here. Come, come, come, right now.”

As the girls watched, the old woman mumbled something to herself, then reached into her leather bag with both hands. To their surprise, out came a small blue tea kettle covered with strange symbols. Hanging on the side were two metal cups like the one she had been using. As Amanda and Tori stared, the pot began to puff and rattle and steam shot from its spout.

“All finished. Didn’t take long. Quick as a wink.”

To the girls’ amazement, when the kettle was tipped into the cups, out came ice-cold lemonade. “That should do the trick. Lemon-lemon. From the stand you had last summer. Very good. Just like yours. Exactly the same recipe, I think.”

One sip and they knew that it was the best lemonade they had ever tasted. Only after they were satisfied did the woman pour from the kettle into her own cup, which promptly filled with steaming tea from the very same spout. Then she tucked everything neatly back into the bag.

“How do you do that—get hot and cold stuff out of the same pot?” Tori was enthralled.

“Ask it, talk to it, that’s how. Doesn’t your teapot take orders?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, are you friends?”

“With a teapot?”

“Of course. But it does take time to build their trust. They’re very shy, you know. Shy and never into politics. And they do have feelings—not at all like microwaves. But teapots are a little hard of hearing. It’s because of the
steam
. That’s the truth, I never lie.”

The words were spoken so gravely that Tori roared with laughter. Amanda couldn’t help smiling too. At that moment they heard a gurgle. The baby’s eyes were open and he was smiling at them.