Grounded! More Confessions of an Angel in Training (9781310362958) Page 4

  He sits behind his sleek desk, reading from a stack of papers, wire frame glasses perched on the end of his nose. He motions for me to sit in the black leather chair without ever glancing away from the pages.

  I wait patiently while he finishes whatever he’s doing.

  He signs the last page with a flourish and peers at me over his glasses. “Grace, I assume you know why you're here today.”

  I’m not one hundred percent sure but take a stab anyway. “Because I don't accept The Hierarchy of Celestial Beings, and The Hierarchy was created by our CEO, and even if I don't understand the whys and the what-fors, I need to get on board.”

  Weirdly, Michael doesn’t say a word. I’m not even sure if he’s breathing. He’s that stony.

  “Interesting, but not exactly.” He slides a black leather briefcase toward me. Does this mean what I think it means? “I have an Assignment for you.”

  It does! It does! I’m soaring in my mind. I take the case and joke with him. “It hasn't gotten any more fashionable, y’know?”

  Michael doesn’t laugh—of course he doesn’t—but I think I see one side of his mouth lift. Just a little. “Do you remember all the rules?”

  “Remember them? I broke them!” As soon as the words fly out of my mouth, I wish I would’ve caged them.

  His face turns stern.

  What I really need to remember is that Michael doesn’t like to get jokey. “Yes, Sir. I haven't forgotten.”

  He relaxes into his high backed seat. “Good. You’ll be going to New York City, and Aisha will meet and get you situated. She’s there to help you, so please, no repeats of your last Mission.”

  Aisha and I had a tiny disagreement that resulted in an unexpected tropical thunderstorm. Oh, and I broke a piece of equipment at the playground, which put her in some hot water.

  “I understand.” I’d agree with anything right about now. Even Aisha. Outwardly, I’m staying all cool and professional so Michael doesn’t think he made a mistake, but inwardly I’m yayyayyayyay!

  And actually, I get along with Aisha now, even though we got off to a rocky start. To be fair, I didn’t know she was my Guardian. I just thought she was too bossy. It’ll be nice to know one Angel, because from what I’ve seen on HVEN TV, New York City is a pretty big place. “Where will she meet me?” I ask.

  “The portal is in Grand Central Station. It’s busy, and people arrive and depart all the time, so you’ll go unnoticed.”

  Duh. Of course it is. Why didn’t I think of that?

  “Good luck, Grace.” His jaw and eyes are firm; his wings flared. “I think you’ll find this one a tad more challenging.”

  Chapter 4

  Just like that, with the whooshing feeling only a trip through a portal can bring, I land in Grand Central Station amidst a throng. People walk back and forth in front of the corner I’m tucked into, oblivious to me. Except for one guy.

  He has on what looks to be three coats, a pair of black wool gloves with the tips of his fingers sticking out and boots a couple of sizes too large. His hair and beard are ratted. Everything, both he and his clothes, look like they could use one long, hot shower. He points at me with his glove-finger. “Angel, Angel, Angel,” he says like an alarm.

  People ignore him, hurrying to get wherever they’re going.

  Confession: His screaming alarms me.

  Keeping my identity secret is one of the rules Michael was reminding me about. In fact, it’s the first rule.

  “Angel! Aaannn-gelll!” He’s not giving up, and I decide to try to get him to quiet down.

  I take one, two, three soft steps toward him. “Sir, excuse me, Sir. Why are you yelling?”

  “Angel?”

  Maybe he just got lucky. The wild look in his eye tells me he’s not all there. But really, who is?

  “I’m not—”

  “Is he bothering you?” Without warning, a tall, dark and incredibly handsome stranger appears out of nowhere. He’s a twenty-something with pale skin dotted with dark stubble along his cheek and jaw.

  Before I can tell him everything is fine, he grabs the disheveled yeller. The sleeve of his jacket rides up, revealing a tattoo of an insect on the back of his wrist. What is that? A grasshopper?

  The vagabond rips his arm away from the new guy and holds it across his face, like a shield. I take two steps back from both of them, confused about what’s happening and wanting to stay inconspicuous. Michael specifically mentioned unnoticed. The homeless guy turns and runs through the crowd, his outer coat billowing behind him like a cape. He pinballs off two people, knocking them off balance, and then he’s lost in the crowd.

  “I wouldn’t let him hurt you,” the needs-a-shave guy says.

  I’m caught in his stare, almost as frozen as a person during a Time Bend. Then suddenly I hear, “Grace! Grace!” from behind me. My trance is broken. Looking over my shoulder, I see Aisha, and friendly warmth spreads through my body. She has a new hairstyle—a puff held in place by a headband has replaced her beaded braids—but I can see by her speedy walk that she’s the same old Angel.

  A few short months ago if you’d asked me, I never would’ve said that I’d be happy to see her. But things change. She changed, and so did I. Today, it’s nice to have a familiar face in all this chaos.

  I wave my hand over head, forgetting momentarily about grasshopper guy. When I remember and turn around to thank him, he’s disappeared like the vagabond, swallowed up by the crowd.

  Aisha reaches me and wraps her arms around me. “It's so good to see you. Welcome back.”

  And for the first time since my miraculous transport, I’m glad to be here.

  }{

  The door to exit Grand Central Station spins around and around and around. I give Aisha a look.

  “You’ll be fine,” she says.

  More than likely she’s right, because she’s way more experienced than me, but I’m prepared to use Time Bending if I have a problem. Fortunately, I squeak out without relying on Angelic Powers, and immediately three things hit me.

  The first is how much bigger the city is than it seems on HVEN TV. I look straight up toward Heaven and the buildings are so tall they seem to grow smaller at the top.

  The second thing is that it’s just as busy out here as it is inside the station. There are people. And cars. And stuff, everywhere.

  The third thing is it’s cold. Really, really cold. The closest I ever got to this was some chilly air conditioning on my first Mission, but this is totally arctic. The bitter wind blows straight into my face, making my eyes water and my cheeks sting. A gust whips my hair around and makes Aisha’s puff even puffier, until she pulls her hood up as protection. Her cheeks pink beneath her latte complexion, and I hold both of my gloved hands to my face. As we dodge in and out of people, the black briefcase bangs against my thigh. So annoyingly unfashionable.

  A bus sighs and then blurts smelly exhaust as it pulls away from the curb. Painted on its side is a huge green face with the word Wicked. It reminds me of the movie The Wizard of Oz. One of my favorite memories from my last Mission is when Tara and Finn made me watch it with them. Finn thought I was Glinda the Good, but I always felt like the scarecrow.

  “Is that the witch?” I point at the sign.

  “It’s a Broadway show,” Aisha explains.

  Already this Mission is off to a better start. Of course, Aisha was there to greet me the first time around, but I didn’t even realize she was a Guardian. A few short months ago that bus sign would’ve freaked me out, because I would have thought it was a sign from above, aka Rule Number Four. But now I understand so much more about humans and their culture. It makes me feel almost…professional.

  Like I already have my wings.

  Which reminds me. On my last Mission there were two Full Angels at one high school in Florida. There are people—no, scratch that—beings, everywhere. Some of them must be Celestial, even with the downsizing. “How many Guardians are there in New York?”

  “I have
no idea,” Aisha points out Rockefeller Center as we stop at a corner, waiting for the light to change. “Unless Missions overlap, we don’t need to know or even interact with other Guardians. But they’re easy enough to spot.”

  Yeah, right. For you, maybe. “Are there any in view right now?”

  Aisha scans the crowd around us and the group across the street. “There’s one over there. See if you can pick the Angel out.”

  The group has a businessman, a teen wearing a hoodie, a mom with a child in hand, and a couple of hipster-types who look to be in their twenties. The businessman? The mom? “Is it the one with the hoodie?”

  The light changes, and Aisha does a split-second Time Bend. The little boy steps into the street, and she immediately sets everything back into motion.

  Whoa! How did she do that? In the Powers class, thirty students exhausted me. There are a lot of people on this street, a ton of people in the city, but that’s not all.

  Not only am I blown away by her super strength, it was the kid who totally floored me. I never expected that. As we pass by them, I stare at the boy, and he watches me.

  “It’s rude to stare.” he says.

  Aisha laughs. I’m shocked. And we can hear the mom scolding him. “You can’t say that to someone. You don’t even know her.”

  We turn and walk up Broadway.

  “How many did you Time Bend?” I ask, marveling that she might be the Wonder Woman of all Guardians.

  “Just the group at the crosswalk. I’m not cray-cray.” Aisha laughs again. “Did you figure it out?”

  “That would’ve been my last guess. I didn’t know Guardians could be children.”

  “It’s a tremendously tough Assignment, because sometimes you have to go through years and years undercover before you can actually fulfill your Mission. Those jobs usually goes to experienced Guardians, because it requires so much patience.”

  Confession: Patience is not one of my virtues.

  “Good to know,” I say, marveling at how much I still have to learn. “Have you ever been a child?”

  “Nope. I’m usually elderly or young. Once I was a plain old vanilla adult, but it didn’t suit me, so I let Destiny Goodewind in the Prayers Department know to not send me as that anymore.”

  What the— She’s starting to freak me out. Because my least favorite Dominion, namely Faith, interns for Destiny. And because Faith is not a fan of Guardians, namely me. And because she could figure out which type of Assignment I don’t like and put me in that for-e-ver. And that would be the Grace Lightbourne version of Hell.

  Aaaaargh! I can’t believe Faith might be the boss of me.

  Okay, now I’ve worked myself into full-freak out mode. I really need to figure this out. Maybe I should send Destiny flowers or something? Maybe Aisha has some advice?

  “How do you deal with how all the other Angels treat Guardians? I mean, doesn’t it ever get to you?”

  Aisha shrugs, all nonchalant. “I think it bothered me once upon a time, but then I just decided to focus on my job. I picked it because I liked it, not because I couldn’t do something else.”

  I can’t imagine doing anything else, so I nod.

  “Look, I figure The Big Guy made Guardians for a reason, right? He gave us all wings.”

  “Not all of us have wings.”

  “Oh, geez! Stop it. You will.”

  I hope she knows what she’s talking about. Still, The Hierarchy seems unfair, or maybe just old-fashioned.

  Aisha stops walking and grabs me by the wrist, raising one eyebrow. “Do you want to get Chinese takeout for lunch?”

  Mmmm. On my first and only Mission, the Murphys took me out for Chinese food on my first night. I loved it, and to get some now would make it a sort-of tradition. “Sure,” I say.

  Ten minutes later we have two paper bags filled with all sorts of goodies and two minutes after that we arrive at Aisha’s building on the Upper West Side. A gray-haired doorman waves a greeting as we climb into what may be the world’s slowest elevator. Once we reach the third floor, Aisha unlocks her door and lets me in first. Her apartment is cozy. Bright light streams in from a window facing the park. Plants and flowers thrive in spaces between the sleek teak furniture with neutral upholstery. A brightly colored area rug covers most of the wood floors in the front room. I’m lucky to have such a nice base for this Mission.

  We sit on the rug with the meal spread out on the coffee table. Aisha opens all the little white cartons and dishes up plates for both of us. She scoops some shrimp lo mein onto her plate with chopsticks.

  “Are you still my Guardian?” I’ve been wondering this ever since Michael told me that Aisha would be the one to meet me.

  “Technically, yes. But I don’t think you’ll need my help as much as last time. Besides, I have a feeling that if you do, you’ll ask me.” She siphons in a noodle to emphasize the point.

  That’s true. I would ask for her help this time, because I trust her and like her, which is not how we started during my first Mission.

  Aisha points one of her chopsticks at the briefcase and shifts onto her knees. “It’s killing me! When are you going to open it?”

  Butterflies swarm my stomach when I glance at the briefcase. “I don’t know why, but I feel more nervous this time around.”

  “Everyone gets like that. C’mon.” Her tone is playfully impatient.

  I slowly pull the black abomination over to my heels. My fingers tremble as I touch the brass latches until I think go for it, and spring that bad boy open. A single sheet of non-descript paper lies on top. I pick it up and read:

  Angelic Code of Conduct

  1. Be mindful of the virtue of Chastity. There should be no attachments to humans or other Celestial Beings. Embrace moral wholesomeness and cleanliness through good health and hygiene.

  Aisha already explained ‘no attachment to Victor allowed.’ But it’s a little late for that and I don’t know how to detach.

  2. Practice the virtue of Temperance. You should have a constant mindfulness of others and your surroundings. Maintain self-control in all things and refrain from intoxicants and gluttony.

  Is Victor’s burger fixation a no-no? I know the Brain Erasers on my last Mission were.

  3. Embrace the virtue of Charity. Be generous in all things and accept self-sacrifice.

  Well, natch. I mean, we’re Angels.

  4. Monitor your use of the virtue of Diligence. Be persistent and determined in your work, especially when it seems like no one is watching.

  Last time, this was my biggest fault. This time I’m determined to apply myself from the beginning. If I can finish early, maybe Michael will want to keep me out of his feathers and I’ll get to stay and goof off. A little.

  5. Resolve to practice the virtue of Patience. Show mercy and forgiveness to create peaceful stability. Disavow anger and wrath.

  I’m patient ninety-nine percent of the time. The other one percent probably involves Faith. Except…I’m in a fight with Mercy. And there was that kid in universal theory…and Verity. Okay, so maybe I’m not very patient after all.

  6. Develop the virtue of Kindness for its own sake. Be free of envy, and maintain a positive cheerful demeanor while embracing gratitude.

  Hmm….might need to work on this. The rest of The Hierarchy can drive me off my cloud.

  7. Revere the virtue of Humility. Show respect and be faithful to promises. Have courage of the heart necessary to undertake tasks that are difficult, tedious or unglamorous, and to graciously accept the sacrifices involved.

  Seriously? Who can do all that, except maybe The Old Man?

  I show the paper to Aisha, and she says. “I told you, you’d be getting it this semester.”

  “I can’t do all this! I don’t even know if I can do half of it.”

  “Do your best,” Aisha says, repeating the mantra from last year’s textbook on Guardians.

  I sigh. What if my conduct is not Angelic enough? No wings, right? I return to the ugly case for t
he rest of the details. Underneath some other paperwork is the standard blue folder that’s my Top Secret Identity File. Just like on the first Mission, there’s some mumbo-jumbo legalese about The Requestor and the Causal Agent. While that will be useful later on, right now it makes no sense. But here’s what I was looking for—my Assignment. “That’s odd.”

  “What?” Aisha asks.

  “My Assignment’s name is Izzy. Just Izzy. No last name.”

  Aisha squints at me. “Seriously?”

  “As serious as the flood,” I say. “It says he’s a musician.”

  “I haven’t ever heard of him, but maybe that’s why he only has one name. It’s like Madonna or Prince or Beyoncé. Maybe he hopes he’ll only need one and that everyone will know who he is.”

  That seems really weird. I don’t think I’ll be in a high school, which is where I thought I’d end up. I dig in the briefcase, looking for my profile info. Hail to the Chief! I don’t have a host family. “You’re my roommate,” I tell Aisha, and she nods like she already knew that part.

  Oh! “Nonononono!” I say as I continue to read my profile.

  “What, Grace?” Aisha leans forward.

  “Michael must think he’s so funny. He’s probably laughing himself silly in Heaven. I have to be a back-up singer. Ugh! Why do I have to sing?” Why? The audition is tomorrow. I have to practice the song tonight.

  “That’s a pretty decent Assignment,” Aisha says. “I’m a little jealous.”

  I don’t say anything but instead shove the Angelic Code of Conduct across the table at her.

  “It was just an expression,” she says. “Relax.”

  I sit back and fold my arms across my chest. Boy, do I dread this. So much that I’ve lost my appetite for the scrumptious Chinese food. I snatch a fortune cookie and open it. It reads: hahahahaha!