aNgel and Other Stories Read online

aNgel

  and other stories

  by Oksana Vasilenko

 

  Copyright Oksana Vasilenko 2010

 

  Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This

  aNgel

  To my friend Nagel

  with heartfelt thanks

  for all the cups of tea we've had together,

  for everything you've shared with me,

  for everything I've learned from you

  and just for being there.

  Gabriel, his halo a bit askew after last night, sighed and absent-mindedly tugged at his ear.

  'Do you really understand what you're asking for?'

  The pleading eyes of the Junior blinked. A moment of hesitation?

  'Yes, Your Brilliance, I've read the rules, I understand all the consequences and accept the full responsibility.'

  Youthful fervour, vigour-and stupidity. Or maybe love? Maybe it does exist after all?

  Gabriel sighed again.

  Gabriel, you silly old bugger, let the boy find it out for himself. Let him fly even if he falls.

  'All right then,' said Gabriel picking up the humongous ancient stamp-3500 BC, Made in Egypt, not some puny modern gadget-and applying it with a loud thump.

  'There you go, boy. And remember, you've asked for it.'

  * * *

  'Sit down, just be careful not to wake her,' he said without opening his eyes.

  The transparent figure hovered over to his feet and chuckled in the darkness.

  'She won't see me anyway. It's not her time. Yet. But maybe we can go to the kitchen and have a cup of tea? I would enjoy watching you drink it.'

  More chuckles.

  Nagel sat up slowly and looked at Alyson. It was a long and loving look. He was pleased to see that her face was peaceful and her breathing was slow and regular. He put his feet down and stood up, careful not to disturb her. The house was a bit chilly on this April night, so he put on his dressing gown. He closed the bedroom door behind him and shuffled downstairs.

  In the kitchen he didn't bother to turn the lights on. The full moon was sailing high in the clear skies, turning the world into an eerie jumble of silvery light and inky shadows. A wide shaft of moonlight lit the bench and blended into the darkness in the corners.

  He put the kettle on, its red eye blinked open and stared blindly but menacingly.

  'Aren't you a bit too early?' Nagel asked fumbling in the pantry. 'I feel fine. Fit as a fiddle. But I was starting to worry about Alyson. She's been unwell.'

  The apparition silently watched him rinse a small teapot, put in two teaspoons of tea leaves and pour in boiling water. A sudden wave of aroma welled out of the teapot. Ah, the good old Earl Grey!

  'Fascinating. I thought everyone is using tea bags these days. Isn't it faster and easier?' the ghostly visitor asked, having ignored Nagel's question.

  'It sure is faster and easier. But does it taste like real tea? It certainly doesn't. Not to me anyway. I suppose I'm old-fashioned. I believe that good things take time and that haste makes waste. But these days I'm outnumbered. These days everyone wants instant results. Instant coffee, instant lottery, instant communication, instant love... If it isn't instant, it's not worth the effort.' Nagel put two teaspoonfuls of sugar into an empty cup, then added some milk. Waiting for the tea to brew, he stirred the milk slowly. Sugar didn't want to dissolve in the cold liquid. The teaspoon clinked softly in the fine china cup.

  'I am very thankful that you are allowing me the time to enjoy a cup of tea,' Nagel said. 'Too bad you can't join me,' he added with a grin.

  The white haze condensed slightly over the vacant bar stool, taking the shape of a sitting figure.

  'I'm simply curious. I could never understand why you did it. Why lose so much to gain so little?'

  Nagel was silent. He poured the fresh tea into his cup and took a sip. Then another one. And one more. The hot liquid trickled into his stomach and the heat radiated all through his body. Nagel savoured the feeling, knowing that it was the last time ever he'd be able to feel this.

  'You will never understand,' he said finally. 'Not until you do it yourself.'

  'You mean you have no regrets? Was it really worth it?'

  Nagel looked out the window, his cold hands clasping the hot cup.

  Black and silver. Blinding light and blind shadows. Sharp contrasts. The world of sharp contrasts, the world of opposites, the world of life and death. The world of mortals. His world.

  The familiar delicious smell wafted dreamily upwards.

  How do you explain the smell of a freshly brewed tea? How do you explain the delight of a bright winter morning after a dark snowy night? How do you explain the ecstasy of making love, the agony of losing a child and the myriad of other things, big and small, joyful and painful?

  How do you explain what it's like to be human?

  'Was it really worth it?' He turned to look directly at his cloudy companion. 'Yes, it was. It was worth every drop of sweat, it was worth every tear and every effort. It's just life, and in life every moment of joy is worth a lot of pain. One doesn't exist without the other. One can't possibly exist without the other.

  'I'm not saying that we have to pay for happiness with suffering, but the harder we suffer, the happier we can be... Only it's not something that can be explained in words. To understand life, one has to live it. That's why you'll never understand.'

  'Is that so? Aren't you just being defensive and trying to convince yourself? Can it be that now you have finally realised that you've paid a lot for nothing? Have you finally realised that life is all pain and no gain, and besides, it's about to end?'

  Nagel, a strange twinkle in his eyes, looked at the swirling fog in the bar stool. He drank the rest of his tea, put the empty cup down and leisurely poured it full again.

  'Only an empty cup can be filled. And a full cup must be emptied. That's all there is to it, really.'

  He sipped the aromatic hot liquid. His mind was obviously wandering elsewhere, far away from this sleepy kitchen and from his strange companion.

  'When I first saw her, she was only five,' he finally spoke with his eyes closed, a faint smile on his thin lips. 'She was running across a meadow, little curls bouncing in the wind, little feet pounding the new grass, little eyes shining with life and laughter. When children laugh, they laugh. And when they cry, they cry. They do it all wholeheartedly, they haven't learned yet to be wise and wary.

  'Of course, I had seen a lot of little girls and a lot of little boys. I had seen them grow up, become bitter, angry, disappointed, anxious, crazy-and very seldom happy. I had seen them die young. I had seen them die old. But whether young or old, they always died, all those little girls and little boys, they all ended up dead...'

  He opened his eyes and faced the white haze.

  'So, I did know that there would be an end. But that's life-it's all about endings that always become new beginnings. Things always change, and that's how it should be? If you came for me, then I'm ready.'

  The formless cloud shifted uneasily.

  'You are so matter-of-fact about it. No requests for extension?'

  Nagel chuckled.

  'Am I getting special treatment? When the time's up, it's up.'

  His companion sighed.

  'Your time's up. Gabriel has sent me to fetch you. You've been promoted.'

  Nagel gasped.

  'Promoted? I thought I had resigned!'

  'Well, think again. If angels start resigning, who's gonna do the dirty work and clean it all up? Officially, you were granted a leave of absence. And now they want you back on the job.'

  'But? what about Alyson?'

&nb
sp; 'Dunno. You'll have to ask the boss. Didn't you say her health's failing anyway?'

  'That's right, but?'

  'Sorry, I have my orders. You come with me-now.'

  With a look of utter astonishment on his face, Nagel clutched at his chest. His body crumpled in the chair.

  Two misty clouds faded into the darkness lacerated by silvery shafts of moonlight.

  GENIE

  The thick glass of the incubator feels cool against my forehead. This transparent wall separates me from Mia. She's so close, yet I can't touch her. I can only look at her, and that's what I've been doing every day for the past three years.

  Her face peaceful, long eyelashes curving upwards, full lips slightly parted, she seems to be sound asleep. Her chest rises softly with every breath and I can't help staring at her bare breasts. The right one is a bit bigger-as it should be. I know that if I cup her breasts in my hands, they will just fit into my palms. I know her body perfectly: every curve, every hollow, every mark on her olive skin.

  I close my eyes remembering how her breasts bounced when she was running towards me: her long dark hair flying in the wind, her feet sinking into the white sand and a smile lighting up her face. We were young and carefree and alone on a tiny uninhabited island lost somewhere in the Mediterranean. We spent a week there, swimming naked in the warm sparkling waters, lying on the white sand and making love under the bright stars. We just couldn't get enough of each other. That