Little Angels

By Eric Scott

‘One minute Jasmin was standing in her bath, drying her hair with the hair dryer, the next she was in a noisy, crowded room wearing her dressing gown and carrying a suitcase with a faulty lock. It didn’t seem particularly strange, because her life was like that. She could be walking down the street, or across the school playground or running in the gym and the next thing she knew she’d be sitting up in a bed at home, a sick room or, in extreme cases, a hospital.Jasmin was accident prone - or ``unfortunate’’, as her parents described her. They marvelled at times that she’d actually reached the ripe old age of 14.’Little Angels is a light-hearted look at teenagers “on the other side”. Jasmin becomes member of Angel Troop and is one of the clumsiest Guardian Angels to grace the troop, but she manages, with a bit of luck, to eventually to do her job and rescue her soul mate from some sticky situations.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Acorn Books
• Release date: Nov 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781783334209

Eric Scott

Eric Scott is a published novelist with adult, teenage and primary school books to his name as well as two editions of one-act Plays for teenagers. Most of his plays have been performed in amateur and professional venues. He does a regular theatre review and preview spot on the Spectrum arts program on radio 4EB, 98.1 FM, at noon each Friday and runs his own entertainment web page at www.absolutetheatre.com.au He is also an actor and director with more than 50 productions under his belt.

Book preview

coincidental.

Part One - Jasmin

-1-

One minute Jasmin was standing in her bath, drying her hair with the hair dryer, the next she was in a noisy, crowded room wearing her dressing gown and carrying a suitcase with a faulty lock.

It didn’t seem particularly strange, because her life was like that. She could be walking down the street, or across the school playground or running in the gym and the next thing she knew she’d be sitting up in a bed at home, a sick room or, in extreme cases, a hospital.

Jasmin was accident prone - or "unfortunate’’, as her parents described her. They marvelled at times that she’d actually reached the ripe old age of 14.

Her knees had their fair share of scars. So did her elbows and there was a long indentation on her head, but that was generally hidden by her mane of red hair.

So, there she was, completely unperturbed to be in this strange place. She assumed it was some sort of hospital waiting room where one of her hot and bothered parents would turn up soon to collect her.

Except...except. She took a look round and realised this was no ordinary hospital waiting room. The people were different to begin with. Most of them didn’t even look sick. They were standing around looking lost, or talking ten to the dozen - and there was a man dressed in a white coat trying to bring order to the place.

He had a large clipboard in one hand and a sheaf of papers in the other. He was calling out odd sounding names and handing out the papers to people who held up their hand.

Jasmin thought she recognised a girl over the other side of the room and she held up her hand. A smile lit up her pretty, freckled face, as she waved - just as the man yelled out Angel Troop.

Then a piece of paper was thrust into her hands. She looked at the man to ask a question, but he had already moved on. She studied the paper.

Report to Angel Troop, it read, "corridor 955, room 339.’’

It was only then that Jasmin realised she was dead, and suddenly everything seemed to make perfect sense.

-2-

As Jasmin made her way slowly down the corridors, Angel Executive Officer Jack, and his assistant Jamie sat at a white painted table, on white chairs playing chess.

Jamie pondered a moment, enjoying the quiet and then made his move.

I wonder what the new recruits will be like, he said.

Jack made his move quickly and he pulled a wry face.

Eager beavers, straight rookies and no hopers, what else, he said.

Jamie sighed. They have to start somewhere I suppose, he said, moving his Queen to rook four.

Jack’s fingers tightened into a fist. Sure they are, he said, "But why always with me? This place is supposed to be Heaven."

Their conversation was interrupted by a teenage girl dressed in denim jeans and a tank top. She had a confused look on her face and her fringe kept falling over her eyes. She carried a piece of paper in her hand.

Excuse me. Her voice was timid.

Jack gave her a hard stare. Well? he said. What is it?

I’m er...I’m looking for...Angel Troop she answered.

Aren’t you lucky, said Jack. You’ve found us

The girl looked at the boy, who stood up and walked to a large white desk at the rear of the white walled room and began to shuffle through a pile of papers which rested next to a large white, old fashioned telephone. He wore a peculiar cap, and clothes which came straight from the 18th century. She thought he looked a bit young, no older than 17, to be in charge of Angel Troop, whatever that was. She looked at her paper again.

Jack? she asked.

Jack gave a curt nod. What can we do for you? he asked.

I thought you’d know that, she said.

Jack sighed. Let me guess, he said, Guardian Angel training?

That’s what I was told, said the girl. I must admit, it was last thing I expected.

It usually is, said Jack, taking a pad from the drawer of the table. He picked up a white ball point pen, What’s your name? he asked.

Ingrid, said the girl.

Then the telephone began to buzz. It was loud enough to make Ingrid jump.

You take it, Jack said to Jamie.

The other boy, from the 1920s judging by his clothes, picked up the telephone.

Hello, he said in an official sort of tone. He paused and looked upwards. I think you have the wrong number," he said, and hung up.

They wanted Judgement Accounts, he said.

Jack shook his head. I wish people wouldn’t do that on a Saturday night. He gave a heartfelt sigh.

I thought eternity was timeless, said Ingrid.

So it is, replied Jack.

So how to you know its Saturday night, asked the puzzled girl.

"In Angel Troop we have to go by their time," explained Jack, pointing towards the floor.

Ingrid thought how much the carpet reminded her of the view when she looked from an aeroplane window when it was flying over clouds.

Down there it’s Saturday night - the busiest night of the week for us. said Jack.

Just then another girl came hurrying in. She was wearing bike pants and a long T-shirt. Did I hear the phone? Was it for me? Do I get to go out? The girl was highly excited.

Yes, no and no, replied Jack.

Oh dear, said the girl, showing her disappointment. She turned to Ingrid.

Hi, she said. I’m Amber, Angel Second Class, but getting closer all the time.

She held out her hand and Ingrid shook it. I’m Ingrid, she said, And I’m very confused.

Amber laughed. You’ll soon get used to it, she said. Things aren’t all that different from life. You sleep, you get up, and you go to work...

...Except, cut in Jack, that you never go hungry, you never get cold, and you’re never unhappy.

Well, apart from, that, said Amber.

Apart from that, said Jamie, you’re never going to know pain, you’ll never have a broken heart, and you aren’t going to get sick and die.

Ingrid was studying her new colleagues and their peculiar clothing styles. I always expected be wearing a long white dress and pair of wings when I became an angel, she said eventually.

Jack laughed. That’s a popular misconception he said. Besides, he looked round, taking in the entire room. I think the white’s already overdone. He paused. I expect you think you’ve finished with the earth too.

That’s for sure, said Ingrid.

You’ll be back more times than you could ever have dreamed, said Jamie And you’ll be starting pretty soon - as an apprentice of course. As soon as you’ve earned your wings, you’ll be back even more often.

Wings? Ingrid was puzzled. But I thought you said...

Metaphorically speaking, cut in Jamie. You don’t actually get feathers. He chuckled. You get ‘wings’ - your qualifications - when you can fly solo, when you’ve learned how to stop people from hurting themselves and to help them get through life.

It’s our job to make sure they don’t get here before their time is due, added Amber. That’s what Guardian Angels are for.

This left Ingrid even more puzzled than she was when she arrived. "You mean we have to stop people from dying too soon?’’ she asked.

"In a nutshell,’’ said Jack.

Ingrid looked at her hands. What went wrong with us then?

Jack’s voice took on a gentler tone. Not everyone gets to live to a ripe old age, he said.

-3-

The conversation was interrupted by a loud crash just outside the room, followed by a tinkling of broken glass.

What the... said Jack, rushing towards the door.

He didn’t however; get the chance to check the damage for Jasmin ran straight into him. He bounced back, winded, and sat down with a bump on the floor, where the contents of Jasmin’s suitcase poured over him when the faulty catch broke yet again. Jack sat there surrounded by bobby pins, scrunchies, makeup, an old teddy bear, and a change of clothes.

Sorry, said Jasmin. She looked towards the outside, her eyes wide with worry. I didn’t see the glass in the door. Sorry.

She bent down to pick up the stuff from her suit case at the same time Jack was trying to stand. There was a loud crack of heads meeting.

Jack grimaced and got to his feet while Jasmin tried to pick up her belongings. She was not very successful, for each time she picked up something, she dropped something else.

Jamie, Amber, and Ingrid watched the pantomime with amused interest. But they were interrupted by the shrill buzz of the telephone.

Jamie stepped forward and took Jasmin by the arm. Relax, he said, just leave things where they are, we’ll pick them up later. Just sit down, take it easy.

Jack, warily