Angel

by Arty

Chapter 4

1999

We cheered as the local professional football team ran onto the pitch. Our school team were the county champions and an exhibition match was being staged. Proceeds from ticket sales went into the school fund and to the charities that we supported. The crowd was so large that extra seating had been erected. I had some friends on the football team and they were thrilled to be playing in the match. Our local team might only be in the second division, but they were playing well and looked like they would be up for automatic promotion if they kept it up.

We were having a fantastic time. The pro's had let our team score first and then for a while they gave an exhibition of one touch football that had us cheering like mad, even though they kept our school team running fruitlessly up and down the field. Finally they set up their striker for a shot from well over twenty-five yards, which he sent screaming into the corner of the net. It was a beautiful goal and our 'keeper never had a chance. Everyone jumped up and shouted "GOAL!" and this must have been the straw that broke the camel's back.

Above the sound of the cheering crowd I could hear the shriek of tortured metal giving way. I looked to my left and the section of seats there was starting to tip forwards. The cheers of the crowd there turned to screams as the stand gave way. I saw a girl falling from the top of the stand and before I could form the conscious intention I had grabbed her flailing arm and prevented her falling further. She shrieked as the sudden stop yanked her shoulder. It was Angela! She looked up at me beseechingly. And then her expression changed to one of shock. I became aware of a terrible pain in my arm and I rushed to grab her with my other hand. As I was pulling her up onto my section, I looked down to see my arm bent at an unnatural angle. I was aware of someone helping me with Angela.

Angela was crying, holding her shoulder, but I got the impression that it wasn't her injured shoulder she was crying about.

"Mark, your arm! What have you done to your arm?"

I ignored her and looked to see if there was anyone else I could be helping. I did what I could, pulling people up and directing them as best I could. I was doing it with only one hand, as my right-arm seemed to be useless. People were crying for help, but there didn't seem to be anyway to get to them. Meanwhile there was a seemingly never-ending stream of people who needed immediate help climbing up from the melee. I reasoned that the more relatively unscathed people we could get out, the better it would be for the injured. It was all I could do anyway.

Susan and I encouraged an impromptu rescue-line to form, and even Angela put aside her crying for the moment and got stuck in. From time to time she would stare at me looking confused. Occasionally, she would suggest it was time to get my arm seen to. Each time I would shrug the suggestion aside. There were still people I could help, and as long as I was still standing, I was better off than he poor buggers at the bottom of the heap.

The arrival of burly men in heavy fluorescent jackets and helmets was unexpected as it was welcome. In no time at all, the impromptu rescue arrangements were supplemented and eventually replaced with ropes and ladders as the firemen efficiently did their job. A fireman in a white helmet made his way towards us.

"You've done a good job lad…" He broke off abruptly as he saw my arm. "Good grief son, that arm needs attention now."

He turned to Susan, "Get him to triage now. I don't know what he's done to that arm but it doesn't look good." She nodded and helped me down to the ground and we joined the crowds streaming away from the disaster area. Angela followed holding her shoulder once more and looking forlorn.

The pain had become so intense that I couldn't speak. The crowd surged around us and we were separated from Angela. Susan stayed with me and managed to shield me from the worst of the buffeting. Flashing blue lights attracted us and we stumbled towards them.

"We can only treat the seriously injured people miss, I'm sorry" A man wearing a fluorescent jacket with the word 'NURSE' on the back was talking to Susan. Susan looked at him irritably.

"Not for me. Him. He's hurt his arm, I think it's broken or something."

"Sorry, let's have a look." He turned to me and gently examined me, being careful not to cause any more pain than he had to. Even so it was all I could do not to faint. He spoke to both of us. "He's probably dislocated his elbow, that's why the arm is bent the way it is. There's swelling on the forearm. He may have fractured that, but we can't tell without an X-ray. I can't give you anything for the pain until a doctor has seen you. Sorry."

"Can I stay with him?"

"Do you know him?"

"Yes, we live next door to one another."

"Good you can start filling in this form. Just the name and address, that sort of thing." While they were talking he led us to a stretcher and got me lying on it. "I can't say when you'll be seen, but we'll get round to you." And then he left after first draping an orange card on a piece of string around my neck.

"Can you check to see if Angela's all right?"

"Yes, when you've been seen to. You know that you did it again don't you?"

I grunted too much in pain to say anything more. I could feel myself slipping away…

When I woke again the pain in my arm had been reduced, from the terrible burning and stabbing sensation that I'd fought to suppress, to a bearable if nagging ache. I could feel the stretcher swaying and I looked about me. I recognised the confines of a ambulance. Through the tinted glass I could see the reflected lash of blue light from passing shop windows. Occasionally the muted ones of the siren could be heard.

"What happened to my arm?" Susan started; my unexpected question brought her sightless gaze into focus on me.

"Mark, you're awake!"

"It would seem so, unless this is a particularly graphic nightmare?"

"No, if only it were."

"So, what happened to my arm, it seems much better now?"

"Oh this doctor turned up. She said that, since you were unconscious, she would 'reduce' the dislocation now and save you the joy of a general anæsthetic." Susan stopped speaking and grinned at me, "You'd have liked her, she was very pretty."

I weighed up the pros and cons of flirting with a pretty doctor, versus the agony of a dislocated elbow and decided that I had the better end of the deal. Besides there was always a chance that she would check up on me, to see how I was doing. I smiled to myself. The relief from the pain was making me a bit loopy; I must have been high on my own endorphins.

"What are you smiling about now?"

"A couple of things. First it's a hell of a lot of trouble just to meet a pretty woman and then I'm unconscious anyway and second it looks like Angela's mother won't be bothering me this time."

"So that's number ten."

"Please don't say anything, I'd rather just keep my head down." Susan nodded at my request, but I could see she was unhappy. "Look I'm happy that you know as long as you know the truth I can put up with all the rest." I slumped back onto the stretcher; the evening was taking its toll. What was I going to do now that she was at college? Oh well perhaps this was the last time, ten was a nice even number after all, wasn't it?

This was definitely no fun whatsoever.

The blackness surrounded me almost like a welcome friend. The pain in my arm faded quickly. I remembered that, after they'd X-rayed me to make certain that my arm wasn't broken, they'd let me go home.

When I got home, I discovered that Susan had 'phoned my mum to tell her what had happened, and so my time convalescing was spent in the lap of luxury. Susan had kept her promise and, though the papers were full of the exploits of a mystery youth who had apparently single-handedly - I winced at the pun - saved hundreds of people, she hadn't told them the real story. I'd teased her about the absurdity of the stories and hoped that, when she was a journalist, she wouldn't fall prey to the easy exaggeration.

As I mulled these thoughts and others, I realised that, for the first time, I wasn't restricted to my memories of the events in the bubbles, this time I'd remembered stuff that had happened after the scene. This was a new development and I strained to remember other things. I did remember that once I had almost recovered completely that Susan had 'rewarded' me with a glorious make out session while she 'babysat' for my mother as she went on a 'girl's night out'.

All at once the memories of that night were sharp and clear, the electric touch of her tongue on mine. The silken feel of her breasts under my fingers and the shock of her engorged nipple. The hiss of her breath, as I rolled her nipple in my fingers, and then the breathless explorations between her legs, the impossible softness of her vulva and the improbable heat and wetness between her lips. Finally, the alien feel of a hand, other than my own, caressing my hardness, making me feel sensations that I'd been unable to experience in years of solitary experience. I'd realised then that the tales were a mere reflection of reality. When someone else took you, the feelings were multiplied a thousand-fold. After we had finished, she'd looked at me lovingly and told me that we could never do that again. I'd given her my best puppy dog look and she'd laughed and the melancholy mood had broken.

Why couldn't I relive scenes like that, I whined to myself. Fuck being vomited over, beaten up, bruised shoulders and dislocated elbows, where was the hot 'n' heavy sex? After I'd had my little rant, I noticed that the blackness was definitely less all encompassing. I wondered about this, did it signal the end of something or was it just local variation. Then I could see the next bubble looming up ahead; as I accelerated towards it, I could definitely hear the sound of a voice, a female voice. I listened as hard as I could but I couldn't make out the words. And any further thought on the mystery of the voice was lost as I slipped through the surface of the next bubble.

2000

It was a quiet night, the moon was full and the air was balmy. Even though it was still early I'd felt the urge to say goodbye to my friends and walk home rather than take a bus. As I turned the corner I could see a figure slipping from Angela's bedroom and onto the garage roof below. I held my breath. Then the figure slipped from the shadows and the bright moonlight leant an eerie glow the figure of Angela as she turned to grasp the edge of the garage roof and hang at full stretch before dropping the last foot or so to the ground.

I stayed in the shadows between two trees and watched as she dusted herself down and took off the overalls that she had been wearing. Underneath was a dress so short it barely qualified as a tee shirt! Out of the pocket of the overalls came a pair of high heels to match the dress that she was wearing and then, with a last primp of her hair, she was off, walking quickly towards town.

Even though I knew she was not yet fifteen, she looked much older, and sexy as hell. I reflected that, had her mother not been almost psychotic about me, I'd have enjoyed very much living next door to Angela. I quelled the thoughts and slipped further back into the shadows as she passed in front of me. I needn't have bothered she was oblivious as she spoke quietly on her mobile 'phone.

"It's me, Jack. Angela, who did you think it was? At the usual place, yeah." She paused, breathless. "I did like you asked, I'm only wearing my dress and heels."

I could feel myself harden as her words penetrated to me. With a sinking feeling I knew that no good was going to come of this night. I resigned myself to fate and prepared to follow her. Jack was the name of her latest conquest. Unfortunately, unlike her previous boyfriends, he was older and less easily manipulated. In fact it was clear from her state of undress for this late night rendezvous that it was she who being influenced.

In her state of barely suppressed excitement it was a simple thing to follow her. At first I dodged from shadow to shadow, but then I realised that this sort of behaviour just made me look suspicious to any third parties, so I stopped and contented myself with walking slowly about thirty or forty yards behind her. At this point it was obvious where she was going anyway.

The Park.

Infamous for its dark woods and secluded corners, by day the park was the delight of children and dogs; by night it was a make-out spot par excellence. Dressed as she was, Angela was in danger. Though the main gates to the park were locked at sunset, the side gates never were. I watched with something approaching nausea as she fulfilled my expectation and walked through the gate and into the park. I waited for a short while and followed her through the gate.

The bright moonlight meant that she was easily visible as she strode confidently along the main path. The park wasn't empty by any means, but the fact that most people were here on some assignation or other meant that folks were studious about ignoring each other. I followed carefully trying to stroll aimlessly on the grass and appear harmless, while concentrating with a fierce intensity on Angela's destination.

Even so I almost missed it. One minute she was walking on the path and the next she was no longer there. I backtracked and saw the place where footprints appeared in the dewy grass, heading straight to the darkest part of the small copse at the edge of the park. With my trepidation increasing with every step, I followed her trail into the woods.

As I entered the trees I could hear voices, one voice was deep barely a rumble the words indiscernible, the second voice was higher pitched a female voice. I presumed that this was Jack and Angela and sidled through the trees trying to get closer. The closer I got the more I could tell that Angela was unhappy, even a little scared. As I reached a small stand of bushes I could make out the words of the conversation.

"Jack, you're scaring me."

"And you love it don't you? You cock-teasing bitches are all the same. If you didn't want it why are you here with your tits free for all the world to see, and no knickers? You're gagging for it. You all are."

"Please, Jack, let me go. I don't want to. Please!"

"C'mere bitch, or it will be worse for you."

"No! Please! No!"

"Stop fighting. You know you love it really."

"Jack! No…" her protests were cut short with a slap and a scream. I pushed my way through the bushes to see Angela huddled on the floor her dress around her neck and a red mark starting to show on her face. Even though the situation was dire, I couldn't help but notice that Angela was seriously gorgeous. In the moonlight that filtered through the trees she looked ethereal, like a dryad or a wood elf, only a damn sight sexier than any illustration I'd ever seen anywhere. Jack turned to look at this latest interruption, and his expression did nothing to make the situation seem any better.

"Leave her alone. She said no." I turned to Angela, "Get up, you stupid girl, and go home before your mother calls the police." She started crawling through the bushes. Jack made to stop her but I stood in his way. He tried to shoulder his way past me but I stood my ground. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Angela standing and jogging out of the woods, pulling her dress down as she went. Good girl! This just left me facing Jack Lawson, a bad-tempered brute who could make two of me, and I'd just deprived him of his next fuck-toy. Things were not looking good for me at all.

I started to back away from him and to follow Angela, at first it seemed that he was too surprised to do anything and I began to hope, tentatively, that I might come out of this unscathed. Then he gave a wordless scream, and I knew that my time had come. I turned to run and managed to get some way out of the trees before I stumbled and fell. For all his size, he was almost as quick as me, and so he was ready to act as soon as I fell. Somehow I twisted my face away from the kick and his foot struck my shoulder numbing it. I curled my arms over my face and allowed myself to scream as his booted feet slammed into my arms, chest, and legs. Each time he kicked my ribs I could feel bones cracking. I stayed as still as I could and prayed to whatever Gods were listening that I would get through this.

I'd lost count of how many times I'd been hit and kicked. He must have got bored with just kicking, because he started stamping on me. I felt a bone in my arm crack as he jumped on it. I screamed again and I dimly heard him laughing manically as he went about his task of reducing me to a pile of formless protoplasm. I'd started to wonder if I was going to get out of this alive when I heard someone crashing through the trees. I risked a glimpse through my forearms and watched as a thick tree branch connected with the head of my attacker. Jack shook his head to clear it, but was too dazed to be able to stop the next blow and the next. I started to relax and watch in amazement as a second lump of wood joined the fray. I giggled with relief and then I groaned as the pain from a fractured rib made itself known. Suddenly Jack decided that he was losing too badly and decided to run for it.

I could see a pair of knees, shapely knees at that, kneeling in front of me and then I heard the familiar tones of Susan.

"Oh Mark, what has he done to you?"

The concern in her voice did what Jack had been unable to do; I started to cry. The pain from my ribs and arm was now starting to overwhelm me. I moaned wordlessly and tried to shift to a more comfortable position. That was a waste of time; it just made everything worse.

"Don't move Mark, please don't move. Help is coming."

I felt my eyelids drooping I felt so tired.

"Stay awake, Mark. You have to stay awake, until someone gets here."

I nodded to show that I'd try, but I felt so tired.

"You did it again Mark, Angela ran into us and told us what you did. She was so frightened, that you'd get hurt. Eyes open Mark. Listen to the siren, that's an ambulance. Stay with me please, Mark."

Her monologue was interrupted by the sounds of people crashing through the undergrowth. An unknown male voice shouted: "This way, he's over here."

The matter of fact voice of a paramedic was next. "Excuse me love, let's have a look at him." I tried to answer the questions that he directed at me, but I couldn't stay awake and that was the last thing I remember until I woke in a hospital bed with tubes running into and out of every orifice and a few more besides.

"You're awake, I see, Mr Connors. Glad to have you back. You gave us a bit of a fright, I can tell you." The doctor, I presumed he was such, did what doctors do in this situation and pronounced himself satisfied, for the present. Then he turned and left, throwing cryptic instructions to the ward sister over his shoulder. I looked at al the tubes and turned to my mother sitting by the bed.

"Do you think there are enough tubes and wires? I mean I have two nostrils and a mouth and they don't seem to have anything in them." Mum smiled wanly at my feeble attempt at humour. I decide to speak of practical things, "How long was I unconscious?"

"A day and a half."

"What happened?"

"They said there was some internal bleeding, but they managed to control it without surgery."

"I'm sorry mum, but I had no choice, but to do what I did."

"I know, Mark. Susan told me what you did. You did a very brave thing, I'm proud of you. I just wish you could have done it without getting beaten half to death."

"Yeah, I wish that too, sorry I scared you."

"Susan said you would want it kept quiet, so we haven't said anything to the police, but they do want to talk to you."

"Thanks, I couldn't cope with Angela's mother right now."

"Surely she'd be grateful."

"Knowing my luck, I'd be the one blamed for attacking her and the guy that did this to me would come out as the knight in shining armour. I'd rather not go through all the questioning. Besides I'd rather not drag Angela through it all as well. She's been traumatised enough without having her name in all the papers."

"If you're sure that this is what you want, we won't say anything."

"Thanks mum, it wouldn't be worth it." She nodded her acceptance, but it was clear she wasn't happy about all the secrecy. "Why don't you go and get some rest, you're looking very tired."

"No, it's all right…"

Susan interrupted her, "I'll stay with him for a while. You need the rest. What good will it do if you make yourself ill?"

"Please mum, I don't want to have to worry about you too."

"Oh all right, if you insist," she brightened at the thought of a few hours sleep in a comfortable bed, "I know it's just because you want to be alone with all the pretty nurses."

Susan giggled and I blushed, "Oh mother!"

Susan replaced my mother at my bedside and we talked quietly until I felt fatigue creeping up on me once more. When she saw my eyes close for the umpteenth time in a few seconds she told me to go to sleep and that she would see me tomorrow.

I woke a few hours later to see the fatherly policeman from a couple of years ago standing at he foot of my bed. He smiled at me in an avuncular fashion. And made his ponderous way to sit in he chair by my bedside. The silence stretched and even though I knew it was a ploy I didn't feel up to waiting, so I spoke first.

"What?"

"This is starting to become a habit."

"A habit?"

"Us meeting like this. People will talk."

I grunted in reply, I really didn't feel up to this sort of conversation.

"It's a funny thing. I ask my community liaison officer about Mark Connors, and I get a picture of a yob, a tearaway or a thug. Then I look at the official record, and all I find are unsubstantiated complaints. I ask at your school, and they have no complaints about your work," he paused and looked at his notebook, "or your behaviour. In fact I can find no basis for your reputation at all. Actually, last year, as far as I can tell, you helped to rescue a lot of people, despite suffering from a dislocated elbow. A condition - I am told - that is excruciatingly painful."

I struggled to maintain my composure; I'd forgotten what it was like to have someone other than Susan or my mother look at me without disdain. I blinked furiously to hold back the tears.

"You'll be pleased to know that Mr Lawson got involved in a pub brawl yesterday and was knifed for his trouble. And once he's recovered from that, there are several other matters that we want to talk to him about. He won't be free to molest you or your friends for a long time." He smiled warmly, "I just thought you might like to know, that's all."

"Thanks, I appreciate that." He flipped open his notebook and began to write. "What are you writing?"

"Your statement."

"What statement?"

He finished writing and began to read in an exaggerated and lugubrious fashion. "When questioned, Mark Connors stated that, 'it was too dark to see his assailant'."

I smiled in relief, "Thank you. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I really hope we don't meet again."

"That's all right son, so do I, so do I." He patted me on my shoulder, go up from the chair and started walking away. As he left he was whistling the theme from 'The Blue Lamp'. I laughed to myself. In any other situation, I was pretty certain that I would have liked him. I lay back in my pillows and squirmed with pain. How many weeks would it take before I could lie in comfort, I wondered…

Things were definitely going downhill. If Angela's mother wasn't harassing me, I was getting injured or beaten up. The escalation was obvious. The next bubble was looming ahead of me. I could see that it was the last one in the skein, this did not look hopeful. I tried to concentrate on slowing down. It was pointless, the speed of my approach seemed unaltered, but it would seem I still had time yet. I was dreading the outcome of this last bubble.

From somewhere distant I could hear again the sound of a girl's voice. The quality of the speech was different from the way I remembered it. This time it had a soothing quality; previously it had been intimate, yet conversational. I felt myself grow calmer. While I knew I was not going to enjoy re-living what was obviously the scene of my death, I could see that I had no choice in the matter. While I had time before the final bubble, I allowed my mind to roam over the high points of my life so far.

On previous experience it was a good guess that there wouldn't be much enjoyment. Was there sex in heaven? I'd always wondered about that. What sort of heaven could it be, if the single most pleasurable activity known to humankind was excluded? Of course this presupposed that my final destination was up and not down. I could always end up in the one of the outer circles of Hell; if I remembered my Dante correctly, these were reserved for 'virtuous' sinners. The bubble was almost upon me and I marvelled at the shifting colours that shimmered across the surface of the bubble.

For some reason I slipped through the surface much more slowly and as I did so the sound of someone speaking was very clear. The words were still unclear, but I could hear the tears in her voice. The was something familiar about the tones, I tried to think who it reminded me of, but all of a sudden it was to late…

-Continued-

<< >>

If you are enjoying this story please take a moment to email me by using the contact form on the contents page.

Back Main