Jackson, Deborah: Heaven's Children (Earth Totem)

‘So what do you think is yours, think about it, what is the first animal or element that pops into your mind.’

Why is he asking me all these questions? I don’t want to talk about totems; I want to talk about us. I stop myself, and it takes me a few seconds to realise that he’s still waiting for an answer. I tell myself to think of something, anything before it becomes awkward. The branch is making me anxious.

‘Nevaeh?’ I pull my eyes away from the window.

'It must mean different things to different people, right? Maybe I don’t have one.'

My voice sounds odd, like it hasn’t been used for a long time, and there’s a catch in the back of my throat which I desperately want to clear.

I don't know why I’m so desperate to explain. He’s smiling now, and I notice for the first time how his eyes crinkle at the sides, my mind already storing that memory for later. I wish he’d stop stroking my hand, I can’t concentrate. He leans forward, his face etched with concern and follows my eyes back to the window.

'Nevaeh, don’t worry, I just thought that…’ He stops and seems to be turning the thought over in his head.

‘Okay, how about this. When you think of the word totem, what do you think of?’

I shrug turning away from him slightly. I feel like I’m being tested, and am desperate not to fail. Is it my imagination or has everyone started to talk really softly? I feel the heat rage inside me and the tapping has become rapping on the window. I look at him panicking. The rapping is interfering with my thinking.

'Honestly? They're like symbols? Right? The Indians named each other after them and...' I trail off, damning myself. Why do I have to mention Indians just because he looks like one? The list for later was building. It suddenly seemed more urgent now that he mentioned it. If Hawk noticed my stress, he didn’t say anything, just tilted his head.

‘You could say that. Some say that they guide you between the physical and spiritual'. I fix him with a look, he has my attention now.

'Spiritual, you mean like heaven?’

He nods smiling again, but this time when he leans closer, I’m not entirely certain, but can swear that he’s sniffing me. I lean away self-consciously. His eyes seem excited, and I can tell it’s a subject he knows.

‘Some call it heaven, or the place of the original creators, the god space.’

I remember holding my breath at the word.

‘They say that sometimes, a god or goddess tears through the fabric or veil and walks amongst us.’ His voice is soft, and I feel like I’m under a spell. Everyone in the room has disappeared again and it’s my turn to breathe him in; he smells intoxicating. He reads my signals and leans even closer, pulling my hair up to whisper in my ear.

‘Do you know the main sign of a sacred one Nevaeh?’ I manage to shake my head; my tongue feels too thick and awkward to answer.

‘It’s the smell; they have a divine smell that drives humans mad with passion.’

His voice is husky, and I feel like I’m going to pass out and resist the urge to kiss the cheek that is centimetres away from mine. This is insane.

‘And you.’ He pauses. ‘Smell divine…’ I feel lightheaded and imagine falling into his arms, and hug myself instead, telling myself to calm down. The combined sound of the scraping, tapping and rapping of the branch, sends my heart into overdrive. I want to scream but instead clench my hands so tightly; I can feel my nails bite into my skin.

‘What about dreams? Have you ever been aware that you're dreaming? Nevaeh?’

I look at him suspiciously then, suddenly aware that everyone in the room has stopped talking.

I think back to English class and my mood drops another level. Has Amber told them? But why would she? The familiar feelings of anxiousness return as I think about my dreams. For some reason, I feel like my privacy has been invaded, that he knows about them, even though it isn’t possible. I face him, trying to ignore the screaming of the wind outside and even the others are looking from the window to me. When I shift my legs, they’re numb and I wait for the pins and needles.

‘Well?’ Hawk presses and I frown at the edge in his voice, paranoid. Maybe tonight is all about me and I don’t feel so protected.

'Hasn't everyone?’ I know my voice is raised, but I’m finding it difficult to breath. I don’t like being the centre of attention or wanting to think about my dreams, especially at night. It’s getting harder to go to sleep, especially when the image of the buried woman creeps forward. I feel my whole body shiver. As if sensing this, Hawk reaches for me.

‘Nevaeh, don’t hassle too much about it, just interested, that’s all,’ he shrugged. I felt like screaming then; it was obvious he was more than interested, everyone was more than interested. The rapping makes my head hurt and I push his hand away before standing up. The rush of pain makes me wince and I stamp my feet, looking down at him.

‘I have to go.’

He looks hurt, but the screaming of the wind is making it difficult to concentrate. Am I the only one who can hear it? I imagine the wind tearing at the door and window frames, ready to blow the place apart and I feel part of it.

‘Nevaeh, don’t worry, like I said, if you don’t know, it’s no big deal.’ I can hardly hear him and look at him in confusion, stepping away from the hands that are reaching for me, they feel like branch hands.

‘No, I don’t know…what’s this? Twenty questions?’ my breathing is uneven, and I feel dizzy. The windows have started to rattle and I swear I can feel the vibrations of the earth beneath my feet. It feels as if the house is about to be blown down. Yesss, a voice seems to whisper and I panic at the thought that crosses my mind - what if it’s me? What if I’m feeding the wild side of the wind?

The murmurs in the room have grown more intense, especially Andrea who looks anxiously now from me to the wind. She’s either expecting something to happen or like me, thinks we’re connected. Behind her Seth and Nettles edge closer, as if they too sense something. Even Hawk stands up.

The house feels like it’s physically shaking and when a vase falls off a side table and smashes, I almost scream. It’s making me worse, like I’m being buried, like the woman. Somewhere, in the middle of this storm, Hawk is telling me to relax.

Control it, calm the wind Nevaeh, calm yourself and think of where you are happiest. I look at him in alarm, his mouth is closed. Had I missed the part where he was speaking? I notice Amber and the frightened way she’s clinging onto Andrea. She looks scared of me – why? I’m not doing anything. Leave me alone.

For the second time, I run from her house.

Outside, in the midst of the roar, my imagination conjures up the flapping of wings right above me. I don’t look up but instead, imagine snarling things behind me, I run faster.

Back home, I almost stumble up to my bedroom, wiping at the sweat that has matted my forehead. I can hear Mum calling but ignore her. I don’t want to explain anything at the moment. I can’t even explain it to myself. Disappointment fuels my tears. Why did I over-react? They’re probably all laughing at me now. If this is what happens when you try to socialise, they can shove it. Images of the twins and Amber falling about hysterically on the cushion make me paranoid. I have never felt so lonely and glimpse once more at the woods before closing the window. It’s peaceful out there, and the night sky is clear. I crawl beneath the safety of my duvet.

5

Wings