Page 40 of Out of the Blue
‘You’re early,’ I say. ‘Is everything OK?’
‘Aye, grand.’ Calum’s voice is monotone. He dumps his jacket on the ground and walks towards us, squinting at the books. He taps one with his toe. ‘What’s all this?’
‘I was hoping Teacake might recognize something,’ Rani says, as Teacake comes gliding back to the floor. ‘If the Beings look so like the way people paint angels, maybe heaven does too.’
There’s a glint in Calum’s eyes. He drops to his knees and begins turning the pages of the nearest one. He stops on a painting calledThe Ascension, one of the first few that Rani showed Teacake.
‘Look. See these clouds?’ he says to Teacake. ‘Where you’re from, is it beyond there? Why can’t we see it?’
Something in his tone makes me feel uneasy. Teacake stares at him blankly. Rani starts to tell him she’s already asked her all of this, but Calum cuts her off.
‘You just need to nod, Teacake. Yes or no.’
He goes on and on, machine-gun quick, demanding answers to impossible questions. What’s heartbreaking is that I can tell Teacake is really trying. Her eyes follow his hands as he turns the pages, blinking as images of clouds and angels flash past. Occasionally she’ll start to say something and Calum will pause, but she’ll splutter a few song lyrics or a radio jingle and he’ll groan and turn on to the next page.
Soon Teacake’s wings start to twitch: she’s bored of being questioned, or maybe she senses the manic edge in Calum’s voice. She beats them together and bends her knees to spring off, but Calum grabs her wrist. Teacake lets out a strangled cry.
‘Just say it!’ he shouts. ‘Tell me where you fell from!’
‘Calum! Let her go!’ I grab his arm and wrench it away from her. Teacake leaps into the air and flies towards the roof, where she lands in the alcove above the organ. Rani runs up the stairs, calling after her. My hand is still clutching Calum’s arm. He pulls away and kicks at the books, sending one sliding across the floor.
‘Calum –’ I flinch as it thumps against the wall – ‘it’s OK. She just—’
‘It’s not OK,’ he snaps. He paces towards the door, his arms above his head and his fingers clutching at his hair. ‘You don’t get it. You don’t understand anything.’
‘What do you mean?’
He spins around, his eyes bright. ‘You know what Allie wanted to be when she was little? An astronaut. A bloodyastronaut.’ He laughs coldly. ‘Can you imagine somebody with CF, who has a hard enough time breathing down here on Earth, being sky-rocketed into space?’
I don’t get what he means. What six-year-old doesn’t want to be an astronaut? ‘Well, no, I suppose,’ I say. ‘What’s that got to do with Teacake? What’s your point?’
‘My point is she acts like it’s nothing.’ Calum’s hands clench into fists. ‘She had alung transplant, Jaya. Don’t you get how serious that is? She was in a coma for two weeks. She almost died twice. She shouldn’t even be going out at the moment, not with this infection . . . But you – you’ve just waltzed into our lives and you expect her to be able to keep up with the rest of us.’
The unfairness of this takes my breath away for a second.
‘That isnottrue! I haven’t forced her into anything. You guys were protesting Beings’ rights before I even found Teacake. You know how strongly she feels about this.’ When his scowl doesn’t fade, I echo what Allie herself has told me so many times. ‘Besides, it’s her life. She should be free to choose what she does with it.’
Calum’s mouth twitches. For a second I think he’s about to shout at me, but instead he turns his head to the ceiling. The scholars gaze back, their books and instruments clutched to their robes.
‘You’re right. I can’t stop her doing what she wants. Hell, she could give up altogether if she wanted.’ When he looks down again, his eyes are cold. ‘But you can’t expect me to sit back and watch as she puts her life in danger. She’s not going to be the one left behind when it ends, and neither are you.’
I open my mouth to reply, but the weight of what he’s said hits me, and I just stand there gaping.
It must hit Calum too, because he swears and looks at the ground, his hands dug into his pockets. I can tell he’s trying not to cry.
‘Maybe you should take the day off,’ I say. I glance up at Teacake. She’s still hiding behind a pillar near the second set of seats, while Rani tries to talk her down. ‘We’ll cover your shift.’
‘Whatever.’ He throws his hands up and turns on his heel. ‘It’s over, anyway. She’s never going to give us any answers.’
As he walks away, I realize what was bothering me about his voice. His tone is just like Leah’s when she left me yesterday – the same desperation, the same fear. He’s being pushed to the edge too, and I don’t know what his next step will be.
TWENTY-THREE
It’s a beautiful day for catching angels. Already eighteen degrees, according to my phone, and not a hint of a breeze. From the bottom bunk, the slice of sky I can see is so bright it looks like it could burst. I almost wish it would. Maybe there are hundreds of Beings hidden behind the blue, waiting to tumble down into Dad’s arms and make all his dreams come true.
Not likely.
It’s eight o’clock. According to Dad’s calculations, the Being is going to fall at around 10.54 a.m., give or take ten minutes. We need to be at the foot of Arthur’s Seat at nine to help everyone set up. He assumed I’d be coming too, and I felt too bad to tell him otherwise. This is his big day, after all. This is what his months of stressing and obsessing have been leading up to. I know it’s going to be a disaster, but I’ll only make things worse if I refuse to go at all.
