Grounded! More Confessions of an Angel in Training (9781310362958) Page 3

  I’m looking for the lab room for my first class, Angelic Powers, when I overhear, “Look! There she is.”

  “Who?”

  “Grace Lightbourne.”

  “The one from Bloopers?”

  “Yep.”

  A part of me wants to sneak a peek to see who’s talking about me with such disdain. The other part of me wishes there was an invisibility power that I could flick on. Thankfully, the classroom is just ahead. I make a hard right turn, and the gossips are gone.

  Justice, the AIT from The Conclave, is already sitting in the front row. “Grace! I saved you a seat.”

  The look in his eye seems way too eager, and I’d wanted to sit in the back of the room, where I could disappear. But to shun him—that’d be rude, so I slip into the seat next to him.

  “You’re gonna ace this class,” he said. “Wanna be my partner?”

  “Sure, but don’t count on the acing part.”

  “No, no, you will.”

  Other AITs file into the room, some noticing me, most completely oblivious.

  Anonymous is fine with me.

  Finally, the teacher walks in. He’s shorter than most of the students. Rounder too, with a shock of woolly white hair. Neat, compact wings flare from the back of his long white robe as he closes the door, muffling the hallway noise. “Good morning, trainees. I’m Professor Keen and this is Angelic Powers.”

  Suddenly one student pops up and makes for the door, mumbling, “Sorry, I’m supposed to be in Gifts.”

  “Quite alright. Next door down.”

  After the misplaced AIT leaves, Professor Keen stands behind a podium, only a tuft of hair visible. It barely sounds like he’s talking, and someone from the back of the room yells, “We can’t hear or see you.”

  “Yes, fine, fine. They do that every year, bring the wrong-sized podium.” He moves in front of it and boosts himself to sitting on top of his desk, stubby legs dangling. He clasps his hands and starts again. “In this class, we’re going to study, practice and master basic powers. You’ll be tested on these powers and the appropriate use of them. Today, we’ll start with Time Dilation.”

  I can feel Justice staring at me but don’t look over at him. Then he whispers, a bit too loudly, “You already know how to do that.”

  “Excuse me,” Professor Keen says, “What did you say, Mister…?”

  “Justice, sir. And this is Grace Lightbourne. She’s the one who trained on Earth last semester.” His voice hardly contains his excitement. “She’s already mastered this power.”

  Beans spilled. Anonymous no more.

  “Thank you, Justice. Well hello, Miss Lightbourne. Class should be delightfully different this year.” His voice and eyes are soft. “May I use you for the demo?”

  I shrug and then nod hesitantly.

  “Up, up, please.” He indicates that I should stand.

  Why did I sit next to Justice? Why? I should have trusted my instincts and sat in the back of the room, in the corner.

  “You’ve done this before, correct?”

  “Freeze time?” I ask.

  “Yes. Now that’s interesting. Did you hear that, class? Miss Lightbourne referred to it as freeze time and certainly that’s what it feels like, but that’s not what it is, right, Miss Lightbourne? Can you explain what it really is?”

  “It’s when we—”

  “A bit louder, so they can hear you in the back row.”

  I clear my throat and up my volume. “It’s when we move very close to the speed of light. Things, people…humans appear to be stopped.”

  “Very good. This phenomenon can also be referred to as Time Bending, but for the purposes of this class, we’ll call it by its original name—Time Dilation.”

  “Can I sit now?” I ask.

  “Not yet. I’d like you to demo.” Professor Keen hops down from the desk to open a side door, and a young girl, who looks to be about six or seven, walks into the room, carrying a jump rope. She’s wearing pink leggings and her hair is pulled into a high ponytail with a matching pink ribbon. Her eyes dart around, watching all of us, but she doesn’t look the least bit scared. “Class, I’d like you to meet Cassie. She’s a human who currently resides in Purgatory and she’ll be helping us out this semester in the hopes of making it to Paradise. Now Cassie, if you’d be so kind to skip rope for us.”

  The girl shrugs, like, sure, whatever, just get me out of Purgatory. Then she starts twirling the rope. Boy, is she ever fast!

  “Now, Grace, Dilate, if you would.”

  When I do, the results are great. Cassie is frozen mid-jump, feet slightly uneven. She’s as hard as a statue and hanging in the air. The rope has just slipped under her feet and is on its way back up. It’s frozen, too.

  Someone says, “Awesome,” and I remember feeling exactly the same way the first time I saw it. It makes me smile.

  Professor Keen says, “Yes, it’s quite remarkable the first time you observe the effect. Now I’d like you all to come up to observe more closely. One row at a time, please.” In a single-file line, my classmates parade by Cassie. Justice reaches out, and Professor Keen moves at light speed plus, pulling his hand back. “Ah-ah, no touching. I’ll explain why later.” Finally, inspection complete, he says, “It’s crucial that when you return to Ordinary Time, you don’t move and take the position you were in when you initiated the Dilation. Otherwise, humans may experience dissonance, a condition to be avoided when using your powers. If you had touched the subject the dissonance would be even more pronounced.” With that, he gives me the go-ahead to put Cassie in motion.

  I do and my knees fold. Professor Keen puts an arm under mine and props me up. Who would’ve thought he was so fast and strong? He helps me to my desk.

  What just happened? I’ve never been tired before.

  “How’d I do,” Cassie asks.

  “Better than me,” I slur.

  “Fine, Cassie. Very good.” Professor Keen holds a cool hand to my forehead. “I’m sorry, Miss Lightbourne. It didn’t occur to me that you’d never moved so many before. What’s the max number of Angels you’ve taken on a Dilation before?”

  I’m foggy and even though I want to cooperate and answer, I’m not sure what he means.

  “Ah, poor girl. Five? Ten? Regardless, I’m sure it wasn’t thirty.”

  Me. Aisha. Victor. That’s it.

  “Three,” I manage, my eyes drooping from the effort.

  “Yes, yes, quite a few less. Hmm…you should expect the effects to wear off by this afternoon.”

  Great. And this is just first period.

  The rest of the class passes without anything special. Or who knows, maybe there was something special and I slept through it. Finally, the bell rings.

  Justice helps me out of my seat and somehow figures out that we have the next class—History of Guardians—together. “That was fantastic what you did. Maybe you can show me how it’s done. I’d like to practice. Not today, probably, because everyone can see how tired you are, but tomorrow. Maybe?”

  I wipe a little slobber from my chin. I must have drooled on my desk.

  Justice pulls me along. “You’ll let me know, okay?”

  In the haze, I’m barely aware of all the other students who come up to clap me on the back or compliment me or say ‘thank you’. If I wasn't dragging, I’d be soaking it all up. Instead, Justice handles everything.

  “Yeah, wasn’t she great? You’re welcome. See you tomorrow.” And then he steers me through the crowd, down the hall to our next class.

  }{

  That demo turned out to be a blessing, even though I remember nothing else from the first day of school. While there are a few AITs who still mock me over the Bloopers episode, most of my Guardian classmates seem to support me. Some even admire me. And one, namely Justice, is a fan-boy. His adoration can be suffocating, but he means well, so I try to go with the flow.

  After being back at L’Academie for two weeks, I could already tell my Human Souls and Psyche cla
ss was a huge waste of time.

  Our teacher, Prudence Freeman, stands in front of the room. Her robe looks starched and her hair is pulled into a tight chignon. “Why do you suppose Earth has so many conflicts?”

  Verity, a super short and super loud AIT who reminds me of Faith and should really consider immediate transfer to the training program for Dominions, says, “It’s well known that humans make a mess of everything.” My hand shoots up, but she continues. “It’s simply their nature. They can’t help but be—”

  Boy! She’s really pissing me off. It’s so easy for the residents of Heaven to get caught up in the whole superiority-of-Angels thing and end up looking down on Earth and its inhabitants. The thing is once you spend a little time with them, well, let’s just say it’s given me a greater appreciation for their souls and psyche than this class ever will.

  I squirm in my seat and wave my hand around, doing everything short of going ooh-ooh to get Miss Freeman’s attention. Eventually Verity stops talking about how lame humans are.

  “Yes, Grace?” Miss Freeman asks.

  I clear my throat and say, “You know, Verity, I felt almost exactly like you before my Mission on Earth last year.”

  A few of the other AITs sit up straighter in their seats and look in my direction, because, after all, I am the only one in this class who’s actually been on Earth. Oh sure, most of them have watched shows on HVEN TV, but because I went, it’s given me a little notoriety.

  That’s been a blessing and a curse.

  The notoriety, I mean, not the Mission.

  Anyway, I tell the Verity and the rest of the class, “People…humans are very misunderstood by us. Yes, they’re flawed, but they also have Free Will and so the mess you’re talking about is not an Absolute.” Wow, scary. I sounded pretty intelligent right there.

  Miss Freeman stands at the board and writes Free Will in script, using only her finger. “I like the way you think, Grace. So what do you suppose is the source of conflict on Earth?”

  “Um, I’m not sure. I’m just sure that Verity isn’t right.”

  “Are you saying Verity is wrong?”

  Not right = wrong in my book. But I’m trying to use tact. It’s something I’ve been working on. “Yes.” I sigh and then confess, “Verity is wrong.” Her head snaps around and she scorches me with a glare.

  Here’s a real confession for you: Angelic values are so hard to maintain. Total honesty can be a real drag. Especially when it makes me sound like Archangel Michael or Faith. With Free Will I always have the option of small white lies to smooth out the rough edges, but every little fib delays the arrival of my wings. Yeah, I know. It’s not an awesome choice.

  Miss Freeman skirts around the edge of her desk and lays a hand on one of her hips. “I think we should try an experiment. I need two volunteers. Are you up for it, Grace?”

  Sure, whatever. “Yes.”

  “And how about you, Verity?”

  “Of course, Miss Freeman.”

  In the blink of an eye the classroom transforms. We’re all in amphitheater seating, facing a huge hill surrounded by a field of gently blowing, knee-high grasses. Miss Freeman stands near the hill. Before I have a chance to get used to our new surroundings, I’m suddenly standing on the top of the hill with Verity. Our classmates stand in the tall grass below.

  “Okay, trainees,” Miss Freeman yells up at us. It sounds like she’s speaking through a megaphone. “I want you to stand back-to-back and don’t move, no matter what happens.”

  I look over my shoulder at Verity and roll my eyes. The space for our feet isn’t very big and the pitch of the hill is steep, so I scuffle into position, standing straight with my back pressing up against hers. As soon as we’re set up the way Miss Freeman wanted, we’re plunged into total darkness. Holy…what is that? No sun, moon or stars. It’s like someone shut off all the lights. Everywhere. Hey! Bring back the light, please.

  I lose my balance and windmill my arms to regain it, pressing into my classmate. I don’t know if this is freaking her the same way it’s freaking me. She’s dead silent.

  Miss Freeman’s voice floats up to us. “Verity, you should know that Grace is no longer with you. That is a monster pressed against your back.”

  “I can believe that,” she says.

  “Ha-ha. Very funny,” I reply.

  Miss Freeman says, “Of course, you both know better, but there are some humans who live in total darkness and when they’re told there’s a monster or evil threatening them, they have nothing else to draw upon to tell them any different.”

  Lightning crashes and blinks—one, two, three times—illuminating the landscape. The field of grasses has been replaced by a beach and an ocean. It reminds me of my flight with Victor right before the end of my Mission. I can almost smell the seawater and feel his arms around me. When the lightning stops we’re back in darkness.

  “Verity, you first,” Miss Freeman says. “Describe your surroundings?”

  “A small village of thatched huts, a tiny white chapel and a thick forest behind that as far as the eye could see.”

  Well, duh, she’s facing in the opposite direction.

  “Now you, Grace?”

  “There’s an ocean and beach. Sorry. No forest.”

  I can hear my classmates at the bottom of the hill murmuring. Everything shifts again, and we’re back in our regular classroom. Verity and I are stupidly standing on Miss Freeman’s desk.

  She grasps Miss Freeman’s hand to get down. I jump off and slip into an empty seat in the front row.

  “Okay. Someone else now. What did you see?”

  Of course Justice holds up his hand.

  “Yes, Justice,” Miss Freeman says.

  “They’re both right.” Justice continues explaining, “It’s just that they were facing opposite directions. So is that the source of conflict? Directions?”

  “Not exactly.” Miss Freeman says. “But you’re close. It’s that humans may only know the truth that has been illuminated for them. The problem is that everyone does not see the same truth, like Grace and Verity. This is what accounts for differences and disagreements in cultures and politics and religion. The closer a human gets to the whole truth—say, a guru or a saint—the more that person has seen of the whole landscape.”

  Hmm. Makes sense, I guess. Maybe this class won’t be like Hell after all.

  The bell rings. As we gather our books, Miss Freeman says, “Next class is on gray areas.”

  I’ve got gray areas down pat. It’s when there’s not enough light to see things clearly. You’d think my halo would help—and it does—but unfortunately, I can’t use it all the time.

  }{

  The next day—no, seriously the very next day—this whole lesson applied to my Universal Theory class. It’s like The Chief planned it that way. But He’s much too busy for that, right?

  Anyway, we got a notice that there would be a substitute teacher, and guess who walked in? No guesses? Archangel Michael. My least favorite class taught by…well, he’s not my least favorite Angel, but he can be hard to take. Anyway that you look at it, this wasn’t my ideal situation, which quickly went from bad to worse. It turned out that the lesson was on The Hierarchy.

  This is what it sounded like:

  “At the very top of The Hierarchy we have the Seraphim, who blah, blah, blah-de-blah. Next come the blah-blahs, who blah blah blah, blah blah.”

  Here’s what I should have said about that lecture: Nothing.

  Here’s what I actually blurted to Michael and the rest of the class. I’m paraphrasing, of course.

  “Yesterday in Human Souls and Psyche, we learned how we never see the whole landscape, or how we each see a portion of it, and I think that could be applied to The Hierarchy, because after going to Earth last year I see Guardians as being equal to other Angels.” It came out all in one breath so Michael couldn’t interrupt me and I couldn’t lose my nerve.

  “Blasphemy!” said an AIT, one who I’m pretty sure plan
s on being a Throne.

  “Just one second, Bub—” That wasn’t his name, it was something like Astute or Candor, but he’d ticked me off with his B-word comment.

  Michael rolled his eyes skyward, his lips moving silently, saying a prayer for patience.

  “Did The Big Guy let you train on the job?” I continued. Unfortunately. “Do you have any idea what you're talking about? Or are you just pretending because you’re going to be a Throoooone?”

  Confession: I think when I dragged the title out, that’s what got me in a little hot water.

  “Grace! This discussion ends now.” Michael gave his wings a brisk flap on the last word. “You’ll need to see me after school.”

  “Detention?” I asked. It didn’t bother me anymore. I’d gotten used to it.

  “Just stop by my office, please.” And then he changed the topic, focusing instead on the actual jobs that each class performs, which if you ask me should have been what the lecture was about from the beginning.

  So now I’m sitting in the reception area for the Executive Offices at the main temple. I’d been here once before when I received the deets on my first Assignment, but that time Michael had escorted me directly to his office. No waiting around, bored, like this.

  The receptionist pretends to be busy. I’m fairly certain she’s moving piles from one side of her desk and then back again. She never actually does anything with the papers and she only writes on them once. If I had to do that all day, I’d lose my mind.

  The phone rings and she answers it, speaking in hushed tones to not disturb the serenity of our surroundings.

  You know what serenity is good for?

  An Angel’s name. That’s it.

  “You can go in. He’ll see you now.” She smiles so sweetly, and I wonder if she ever gets frustrated or says something that she regrets. Like, the very un-angelic way I treated that Throne? Probably not. If she did, she wouldn’t have gotten this job. She pushes a button under her desk, which buzzes, and the loud click means Michael’s door unlocks. I walk past the Cherub guarding the entrance. All the fancy-schmancy security just goes to show what a big deal Michael is.