Amelia, Ever Unorthodox

Amelia did not make a habit of visiting her grave site, but her family did. If all she felt was regret when looking at her own tombstone, that would’ve been bad enough, but on top of that she felt a deep sense of unease. Five years after life had not made her death anymore real to her. She had been busy acting as guardian angel to her little sister, Melanie. A mere eighteen years was not much of a life, she told herself. The real story of her existence began with Melanie’s birth, and before that was a loose jumble of pleasant memories. Amelia did not like to dwell on the point of transition.

Still, her chest warmed each time the family set their flowers down, only to ache when she saw the tears on her parent’s faces and knew she couldn’t kiss them away. Her brother, Delrick, had been only five years old when she died, as old as Melanie was now. He peered hard at the tombstone, as if trying to remember to something important as it slipped from his mind. How much would he remember of her, Amelia wondered? Not much, she had to admit.

Melanie, of course, had never even met Amelia, though her big sister was there when she was born. As a partial remedy, their father knelt and pulled out a framed photo of the family taken just a year before Amelia’s death. He pointed to each figure, saying their names in turn.

“Mama,” he said.

“Mama!” chirped Melanie.

And so on. When they got to Amelia, their father pointed at the ground.

“This is where Amelia is,” he said.

Then he pointed at his heart.

“And she’s here too.”

Amelia sniffed. Ectoplasmic tears didn’t taste like anything, but she could still remember the salty taste of tears in life. Little Melanie looked up in the air, as if searching.

“Is Amelia my guardian angel?” she asked.

Their father shot a nervous glance back at their mother. Amelia had whispered to little Melanie on many occasions. She wanted her sister to know she had a guardian so she could grow up fearless. Still, she had never mentioned her name, and as Melanie grew older she wondered if it would be a good idea to tell her. Amelia knew she was a guardian angel. She had gone all the way to the Silver Watchtower and proven herself in front of all the other guardian angels.

Yet, her name was just a sound, and it meant something different among the living. “Amelia Patenaude” referred to a young woman who went and got herself killed before she’d ever done anything with her life. How could Melanie trust someone like that to look after her? With thoughts like these racing through her mind, Amelia found herself grateful for her father’s answer, even though it wasn’t true.

“No, sweetheart,” he said, “your sister is one of the angels up in Heaven.”

Amelia saw her mother nod. She had heard them discuss Melanie’s “imaginary friend” behind closed doors, hoping it was just a phase. Then Amelia noticed something else. There was a man in a long, black coat with a grey hat standing over the next grave. Both looked expensive: the coat had buttons of pearl and the hat had an extravagant white feather shooting out of its silk band. His face, which was somehow gaunt and flabby at the same time, fell devastatingly short of his attire. His lips were pursed, which made his wrinkled mouth and pencil-thin moustache all the more grotesque. Worst of all, he was watching Melanie. When the family turned to leave, he approached Amelia’s parents.

“Pardon me,” he said in a hush, “I couldn’t help but hear that your little one has had some experience, as she might put it, communicating with spirits. This is my area of specialty — not spiritual communication, heavens no!”

He laughed. Amelia could tell it was rehearsed. He continued.

“You see, I am Doctor Jakob Klausen. I specialize in studies of the mind. In particular, I assess and treat disturbed youths so that they might grow into healthy, functioning, normal adults. You have no doubt heard the horror stories of those who commit heinous acts under the command of mysterious voices…”

“Doctor…Klausen? I’m afraid I must stop you there,” said Amelia’s mother. “Our Melanie merely has an imaginary friend. She describes her as a ‘guardian angel’ who is kind and encouraging. It seems quite normal to me.”

“Ah yes, well, Mrs…?

“Patenaude.”

“Mrs. Patenaude, I have studied hundreds of such cases, including serial murderers and women who have cooked their own children alive. Invariably, those who attribute their monstrous acts to ‘voices’ claim those same voices were nothing but kind and gentle when they first appeared in early childhood — positively angelic, even.”

Amelia’s father handed Melanie off to Delrick and instructed them to wait a few paces down the hill.

“Now listen here, Doctor,” said Mr. Patenaude. “I’ve seen how those in the medical profession like to profit off fear and, though I’d hardly call your work ‘medical,’ I’m starting to sniff out your game. Watch yourself.”

The doctor raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips again.

“Game? There is no game here, my good man. Let me ask you two simple questions: One, how long has little Melanie been speaking with this ‘guardian angel’ of hers?”

The Patenaude parents gave each other another nervous look. Mrs. Patenaude answered.

“Two and a half years, at least.”

The doctor nodded.

“And in that time, has it always been this guardian angel figure, or have there been others?”

The parents went stiff. They searched each other’s faces, seemingly with the hope that the other would remember some incident when Melanie had mentioned someone else. Again, Mrs. Patenaude answered.

“No…no, it’s always been her ‘guardian angel’…although she’s never given her a name.”

“But she does consider the voice female?”

“Yes. Always.”

The doctor let out a grave sigh and nodded, closing his eyes for effect.

“Normally, children go through a series of imaginary friends. That Melanie has kept only one for so long could be the first sign of trouble. Listen…”

He produced a card from his coat and held it forward.

“I realize no parent wants to believe their child is afflicted with mental disturbances, much less those of such potential severity. Truth be told, there’s still a chance your Melanie is quite normal, but we won’t know for certain until I can conduct a full assessment. That, I offer free of charge.”

The Patenaude parents looked between the doctor and each other. Amelia went flying back and forth through her parents, hoping to chill their spines and warn them off. They only shivered and pulled each other close. It was, after all, a cool autumn morning. Mr. Patenaude nodded to the doctor.

“I certainly can’t argue with the price. You’ll hear from us soon, Doctor.”

Amelia yelled and flailed through the air as her parents took the card and shook hands with the doctor. She spat ectoplasm at the doctor as he watched the family walk away, grinning like a fiend.

###

A week later, Dr. Klausen sat behind Mr. Patenaude’s desk, upon which sat a set of crayons and an array of drawings from Melanie, the last of which she was still finishing. The rest of the Patenaudes were out in the living room, because of course Dr. Klausen required “enough privacy to let the child express her true thoughts.” Amelia floated above them, privacy be damned.

The doctor had questioned Melanie about her experience with her guardian angel and invited her to illustrate whatever she couldn’t put in words. Now, the doctor set down his notebook, leaving it open. He led Melanie out to the living room then told the family he would need a few moments to review his notes before conducting the next test. He added that he would come retrieve her when he was ready and would prefer not to be disturbed before then.

As he did this, Amelia took the opportunity to read his open notebook. The notes had nothing to do with Melanie. They were only descriptions of the doctor’s daydreams. There was a sketch of a great mansion he intended to own, a rant about making his brother-in-law look “impoverished by comparison,” and a description of an “alluring, foreign concubine” Amelia could hardly bear to read. When the doctor returned to the desk, he shut the notebook, then leaned back in his chair. His arms spread out, and his eyes seemed to roll back in his head. He chanted something in a whisper.

Behind her, Amelia heard a crackling sound, similar to the sound the hellhounds had made when she fought them off at the Silver Watchtower. She turned and saw a black gash torn in the air, like a smaller, more sinister version of the Guardian Gate she had used to get there. Before anything could come slithering out of it, she darted down beneath the floorboards. She stayed close enough to listen.

“Gusroyn, my master,” said Doctor Klausen, “I have found you another guarded soul.”

“That makes the third, my honored servant,” said a voice that rumbled like a furnace, “I trust you have written out your wishes?”

Amelia could hear the doctor flip through the pages of his notebook.

“Every last one of them.”

“They shall be granted,” said Gusroyn, “bring the child to the usual place.”

“Why not here, now?” whined the doctor. “We’re so close, my master!”

“I told you: we must not alert the guardians. For your sake and mine, be patient and obey.”

“But her angel isn’t here!”

“Do not presume to tell me, blind mortal, what spirits are present here. Did you know about the harmless little haunt hiding beneath this very floor? No, you did not. What makes you think you could detect an angel, which is infinitely more cunning?”

Amelia sneered. She hadn’t been planning to show this demon any mercy, and she certainly wasn’t going to now.

“Very well,” said Doctor Klausen, “I’ll take her away if you can cast that spell on the family, like you did with the others.”

Amelia followed the doctor under the floorboards as he got up and went to the living room. She could hear the demon’s crackling voice mutter something as the front door creaked open. She flew out into the street to find Doctor Klausen leading Melanie over to his carriage. Knowing she couldn’t stop the carriage herself, she flew back into the living room. There, she found her family all seated in a daze under a dark, purple cloud. Just above this cloud hovered a winged baboon with burning eyes. Save for a bushy, brown ring around his face, all his fur was shorn away to reveal strange symbols burned into his grey flesh. She shuddered. She had seen a few demons at a distance while training with her mentor, Oriel, but she’d never gotten up close to one. She steeled her ectoplasm and floated up to him, careful to avoid the cloud. Gusroyn snarled at her.

“Go away, little haunt. Don’t interrupt my concentration.”

“Oh, I can do much worse than that.”

She pulled out her angelic spear, shrunken to the size of a butter knife, and pointed it at Gusroyn’s belly. The demon laughed.

“Where did you get that? Did you steal it off some angel clerk? It looks like a letter opener.”

“No, I earned it.”

With that, she twisted the spear in the middle and it sprang to full size. Black blood sprayed from Gusroyn’s pierced belly as he howled in pain. Before the weight of the spear could drag her down, Amelia twisted it again, and it shrank, leaving a hole for the demon’s intestines to come pouring out.

The cloud dissipated and her family shook themselves awake. Amelia flew down to her mother and shouted in her ear as loud as she could.

“HE’S TAKING YOUR BABY!”

Her mother sprang up. She ran into her husband’s office and found it empty. Then she came screaming back into the living room.

“Corvin! Corvin! He took Melanie!”

Now Mr. Patenaude was on his feet. He charged out into the street with his wife and son behind him, and Amelia followed. There, they found Melanie struggling and crying as an impatient Doctor Klausen tried to calm her down. When he spotted her family, he cursed and scooped her up.

“That monster is stealing our child!” shouted Mr. Patenaude. “Stop him!”

Amelia watched as the doctor piled himself and Melanie into his carriage, ordering his driver to move. As they prepared to ride off, she floated around the carriage desperate to find some way to slow it down. Finding nothing, she stopped in the air and watched the carriage ride off. Seconds later, another carriage holding her family brushed through her and gave chase. She couldn’t fly as fast as a carriage. As the dust settled, Amelia looked up at the clouds. Bits of blue peered back at her as she considered the one very obvious option she had.

“Oriel’s given me three years of training already,” she said to herself. “I should be able to operate on my own. I can do this. I don’t need him to fly in and save me again. I just…need something else that can fly like he can.”

She flew back into the house. There, she found the demon sitting on the couch, trying to hold shut his wound with an arm stained black. She wondered how he could do that, then remembered that angels and demons were both more solid than her.

“Gusroyn,” she said, “your friend is driving away with my sister. I can’t keep up with a carriage myself, so I need you to fly after them and carry me.”

“For the love of — ACK!”

The demon coughed up blood then made a vain effort to brush it out of his fur.

“For the love of everything infernal, why would I do that?”

“Because otherwise I’ll finish you off.”

The demon laughed, which only lead to another blood-splattering fit of coughs.

“You have me dying already, sweetheart. It makes little difference to me whether I die now or later.”

Amelia sighed. She really hadn’t been planning to show this demon any mercy, but by this point she’d gotten much better at revising plans than following them.

“Fine, help me out and I’ll make sure you get your wounds healed.”

The demon gave her a quizzical look, which nearly made him pass for an actual baboon.

“You’ll…save me?”

“Yes. Enough rambling — let’s go!”

Gusroyn heaved and groaned as he pulled himself off the couch, then spread out his wings. He flew forward, scooped up Amelia, and lifted her high above the street.

“There!” she shouted, pointing out the two speeding carriages.

Gusroyn dove. Even injured, he flew faster than an arrow. Soon, he was flying neck and neck with Doctor Klausen’s horses.

“I’m losing strength,” he shouted, “what now?”

“Make me pass through the horses!”

Gusroyn rolled into the horses. Amelia could feel them shudder as the chill of her ectoplasm passed through them. For good measure, she meowed in one of their ears. Thoroughly spooked, the horses jerked to the side and crashed through a storefront. As the Patenaudes’ driver pulled to a stop behind them, Doctor Klausen kicked open his door and dragged Melanie out screaming. As the family ran up to him, he pulled out a knife and held it to her throat.

“One step closer and she dies!” he shouted.

Mrs. Patenaude gasped. Her husband stood perfectly still, a leopard ready to pounce. Delrick tried to step forward but his mother pulled him back by the collar. Satisfied that they were taking the threat seriously, Doctor Klausen closed his eyes and muttered another chant.

“Worthless fool,” said Gusroyn, “he asks for my help again. He wasted my time with an unguarded soul, nearly got me killed, and now he wants me to clean up his mess.”

A crowd was gathering. Doctor Klausen repeated his threat to keep them away, but his thin, fatty face was pouring sweat, and his eyes bulged like frantic, blue-spotted pimples. Amelia and Gusroyn hovered just overhead.

“Gusroyn?!” he shrieked. “Master, where are you? I have the child, just get me out of here!”

Amelia looked over at the demon.

“I thought he could see you,” she said.

“Only when I want him to,” said Gusroyn, “and the next time he sees me, it’ll be in hell.”

“Oh, that’s splendid!” said Amelia. “Just a moment.”

Amelia flew over to Doctor Klausen. She had heard many angelic speeches. She was ready to milk this act for all it was worth.

“Jakob Klausen, your master is not coming. He has abandoned you.”

The doctor whipped around.

“Who said that?!” he wailed.

“Your master said the next time you see him, it will be in hell. The guardians are coming. Gusroyn sacrificed you to save himself. You are running out of time.”

Doctor Klausen whimpered. His lip quivered, making his moustache dance like a hairy worm.

“It’s not true. It can’t be true.”

“He gave us your notebook, Jakob Klausen. Gluttony, Lust, Sloth, Greed, Pride, Envy. Add Wrath list to that list, and even we angels will shudder at your punishment.”

“No, no, no…”

“I was sent to give you one last chance. Leave the child. Run. Give away your worldly possessions. Tear those fine fabrics from your body. See what redemption you can muster in your last earthly moments.”

The knife clattered to the ground. The doctor set down Melanie and bolted away screaming, tearing off his expensive clothes as he pushed through the crowd. For a moment, Amelia wondered how this whole incident would affect the good doctor’s career. She smiled. Then, she saw her father scoop up Melanie and kiss her all over her head. Her mother and brother joined him, and they wept together as they clutched their little girl. Amelia felt the tears stream down her own face when there came a hard tap on her shoulder. Gusroyn gave her an expectant and, even by demon standards, sickly look.

“Oh, right,” she said, “ORIEL! ORIEL THERE’S BLOOD EVERYWHERE!”

Oriel appeared. He looked first at Melanie, then at Amelia, then at Gusroyn. He scratched his head, causing a shimmer in his perfect, golden waves.

“Is everything…all right?” he said.

“Melanie and I are just fine,” said Amelia, “but Gusroyn here is badly wounded. Could you please make sure he gets patched up before he goes home?”

Oriel cocked his head at almost at a right angle.

“What…”

“I stabbed him after he tried to kidnap Melanie,” said Amelia, “but then he helped me out when I promised I’d get it fixed. You can get it fixed, right?”

Gusroyn let out a chuckle interrupted by a cough.

“I hear your kind are good at healing. Better than mine are, certainly.”

Oriel nodded slowly.

“Amelia, you’ve always been unorthodox, but this…they’re going to want to talk about this later at the Silver Watchtower, you know.”

“And it’ll be my pleasure!”

She meant it. She couldn’t wait to see the face of their leader, Marmaroth, when he heard about this. Oriel laughed and beckoned to Gusroyn.

“All right, come along.”

And like that, they were gone. Amelia still wasn’t quite sure how Oriel did that. A lesson for another time, perhaps. She floated back to her family.

Melanie was clinging to her mother now, tucking her head into the spot between her shoulder and neck. Her black curls, just like Amelia’s, got caught on her mother’s face, smeared as it was with sweat and tears. Watching her, Amelia realized that this whole ordeal might never have happened if she hadn’t told Melanie she had a guardian angel. Her heart rolled like a sea in storm. She knew what she had to do. She would keep protecting her sister, as she always had, but she would no longer speak to her unless it was absolutely necessary. It was the only way to keep her safe.

Amelia’s sadness could’ve sunk her to the core of the earth, but another feeling pulled her back up. That feeling was purpose. Like any true storm, the storm in her heart was calm in it’s center. She felt peace there, even as so much of her spirit ached.

Then little Melanie turned her head. She looked up and smiled. It was a smile like nothing Amelia had ever seen before. Her sister, her perfect little sister, pointed directly at her and shouted in triumph.

“That’s her! That’s Amelia! She’s my guardian angel!”