Her Guardian Angel (Part 2)

I didn’t tell Caroline what I did to her Father. A little kid doesn’t need to know those sort of things; doesn’t need to know what parts of her Daddy I cut off, how I broke him, how I threw him down that hole and starting shovelling dirt on top of him, ignoring his cries for mercy. He got everything he deserved. I should have made it last longer. Believe me, I wanted to take all night but I reminded myself Caroline was back at the house alone. She was still sat with her eyes covered when I climbed back into her room. I lowered myself gently onto her bed and she nervously moved her hands away from her face and opened her eyes, scared she’d see him instead of me. “It’s alright, Kid. He’s gone.” She lunged forward and wrapped her arms around me. It felt weird, it had been a long-ass time since someone had hugged me. Felt weird but kind of nice. We stayed that way for what felt like forever; Caroline with her arms around my neck and face buried in my shoulder and me completely unsure what to do, body tense and arms held tight at my sides. She murmured something about been tired and shuffled onto my lap, her arms falling from my neck to my middle as she rested her head on my chest. She almost fell off my knee a few times so I was forced to wrap my arms around her; around this tiny little human who suddenly had no Dad and no guardian angel, just a lowlife demon who’d spent the past few centuries bedding every half decent looking woman he could and getting into as many fights as possible. Shit. Time to change I guess.

Thanks to the school clicking onto the fact that Caroline had no adult living with her, guardians don’t count apparently, they informed the local social services who concluded her Father had pissed off and left her. Her closest relative was her Grandmother on her Dad’s side and so she moved into the house and took over parental responsibility. She was a short woman with quickly greying hair and skin that had a slight yellowish tinge to it, she always stank of smoke but she kept her drinking to night time when Caroline was upstairs or already asleep so I didn’t have a problem with her. She called Caroline “duckling” and was sweet to her even if she didn’t pay much attention to her life outside of the house. She couldn’t cook for shit but tried the best she could, making cheap, bland meals she grew up on like scrambled eggs or fried patties from instant mash potato and some other crap out a box. A couple of years went by and things were ok.

                I leant against the wall, the same one where we had had our first conversation, watching Caroline kick a football around. Some kids were playing together across the road; some rode bikes up and down the path, others played hop scotch and a couple of girls sat on the curb braiding each other’s hair. Their angels watched from the side-lines, their stupid grins dropping when they occasionally looked over at the girl who had a demon for a guardian. Fuck you, assholes, at least I actually protect her and not feed her some bullshit about your Daddy in the sky. Despite my hatred for the angels, I had to ask. “Don’t you wanna go play with the other kids?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like them. Anyway, I’ve got you.” She kicked her ball towards me. Her aim was terrible and I followed the ball into the alley to retrieve it. When I came back, a tall, pale Dude with short white hair was talking to her. I heard just enough. Something about wouldn’t she prefer an angel to a demon. As I saw Caroline open her mouth to reply, I actually felt anxious. Was she about to say yes? Replace me with one of those? Then I heard the anger in her voice. “Go away.” The angel looked surprised. “But …” I stepped out of the shadows just behind Caroline. “You heard her. Fuck off.” With that he scampered back across the street to the rest of the angels who threw their disapproving glances at us. Caroline’s angry glare followed him. “He’s a Wanker.”

“Hey. Language, Kid.”

“You say it.”

“I’m 300 years old. You’re 10.” She pouted a little. “Come on, let’s play.” I tossed the ball to the ground and gently kicked it over to her. As usual, she missed and I smirked as she ran after it.

                A couple months later, I sat on the picnic bench in the school playground watching Caroline draw during her break time. It was a bunch of unicorns with a pink sky and purple grass, she’d grunt every now and then in frustration as the chunky wax crayons the teacher had provided meant she’d accidently go over one of her lines. Across the tarmac, I saw some girls looking our way and whispering to one another but I was quickly distracted by Caroline slamming her crayon down. “Chill, Kid.”

“I can’t. These stupid things are useless.” I picked up the picture and pretended to examine it even though I’d been looking at it for the last ten minutes. “It’s good.”

“Really?”

“Ye, it’s different.”

“You can have it if you want.”

“Don’t you wanna give it to your Grandma?”

“No, I want you to have it.”

“Thanks.” I carefully folded the paper and slipped it into my back pocket. The bell rang and, with a huff, Caroline went back to class. I hated it when she was in class. We weren’t allowed to talk to the kids when they were learning, we could watch but not talk and it was so boring. She’d look over at me as I perched on the window sill and I’d give her a wink, causing her to smile that big bright smile before she turned back to her work. And just before the day was done, I’d disappear and let her start the walk home alone. A street or two away I’d sneak up behind her and scare the shit out of her, as much for her amusement as my own. One day I snuck up but stopped short of making her jump; she was staring at the ground and her shoulders were slumped, something was up. “Hey.” I gently laid a hand on her shoulder and she slowly turned to me, sniffing and wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “What the hell happened to your face?!” She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Nothing, huh? So that scuff just appeared by itself?” She didn’t answer. “And that just happened by itself, did it?” I gestured to the bloody knee showing through a hole in her navy tights. She burst into tears and threw her arms around my waist. I held her there for a moment; kids and parents staring as they walked by, none of them bothering to ask if she was alright and all of them looking away when my eyes met theirs. I ushered Caroline into the grave yard we were standing next to and when we were out of ear shot of the busy street, I picked her up and sat her on a tomb. It was unloved and forgotten; long grass growing at the base and moss obscured the weathered name but it was tall enough to bring her to eye level. “Who did that?” After a moment of hesitation, she said. “Samantha Emery.” Turns out this little bitch and her crew had been bullying Caroline. Telling her how no one loved her and that was why her Daddy and her angel had left. They’d spread rumours about her, turning most the year against her. Whispering and sniggering about her in class and calling her a freak. Funny how all this happened when I wasn’t around. This had been going on for weeks before things turned physical. It had started with them tripping her in the hall but that day, after school, they’d done it outside and sent her skidding across the concrete, messing up her cute little face and knobbly knees. As you can imagine this pissed me off; one, for them bullying her and two, for me not been there every minute to look out for her. “You want me to make them stop?” She nodded, again wiping the tears away. “Ok, no more crying. They’re not gonna bother you anymore.” She gave me a little, relieved smile and we headed home.

                                  Copyright Anna Smith 2020