III

 

Katie had been asleep for a little over an hour when a sudden blast of rock music shot across the room scaring her so badly that she flew right out of the bed and landed on the floor.

“What the h—?” she mumbled as she hit the carpet on her knees. Still half asleep, she tried to gather her bearings. The small lamp by her bed was on, casting a soft light into the recesses of her room. Blinking and trying to focus, she detected something by the throbbing stereo. What appeared to be a gaudy heap of clothes was moving in rhythm to the music.

Shaking the final drowsiness from her eyes, Katie realized that it was a person there in the soft light. Frightened, she crouched behind the bed, her hand groping towards the nightstand in search of a weapon. The only thing handy was her old teddy bear. She grabbed it by the leg and pulled it off the table, holding it like it were a Billy club.

Still scared but curious, Katie slowly and cautiously brought her eyes up above the bed to get a better look. It was a person – a girl about her own age. The girl was swaying to the beat of the music. Katie had never seen her before. She was skinny, pretty, but dressed so ridiculously that Katie had to smother the urge to laugh as she studied her.

On the girl’s feet were a pair of the most outlandish purple high-top sneakers Katie’d ever seen, with bright green laces in them. The girl was wearing a halter top the color of a school bus and edged in black. She had on a pair of iridescent red Spandex tights that came down just below her knees. Because the girl was so slender, the tights bagged on her.

On her head at an odd angle, was a bright electric-blue baseball cap, with the brim worn backwards. It was pulled down so far, her ears stuck out. Her hair, long, thick and so dark brown it was almost black, hung down well past her shoulders. It stuck out this way and that because of the cap.

Whoever she is, Katie thought to herself, her father must have picked out the outfit.

“No he didn’t, Kathleen,” the girl said above the music, a lilting accent in her voice. “I did it up meself.”

“What?” whispered Katie? It sounded like the girl had read her thoughts and answered her. She even knew her name. This is some crazy dream, she thought. Well, at least I could have dreamt up a dream figure with better taste in clothes. That girl looks like a Goodwill truck blew up!

The girl ceased swaying to the music and turned her head towards Katie. “You don’t look so great ye’self, Kate, what with your eyes all red. You really shouldn’t cry so much.”

“Who are you?” demanded Katie, slowly rising to her knees and holding her teddy bear like she was preparing to drive a nail with it.

“And just what would you be doin’ with that little toy bear now?” asked the strange girl.

Katie looked at the teddy. She lowered it until it touched the bed, letting it rest there. “Nothing. Who are you and what are you doing in my room?”

“We’ll get to that in a minute.” Then, turning her head towards the stereo, the girl asked, “What do you call that on your music box? It’s pretty awful. Loud, don’t you know.”

“It’s U2. Haven’t you ever heard of them? They’re an old band.”

“You, too?” asked the girl shaking her head. “Can’t say’s I have.”

“They’re an Irish group. Everybody knows U2 They’re a classic.”

“Irish you say? And I’m St. Paddy himself. No singers I ever heard in Erin ever sounded like that.”

“You must have been living in the clouds,” said Katie, exasperation in her voice.

“The girl thought for a moment, smiled and said, “You might say that.” She reached down and depressed the stop button on the boom box. The room went as silent as the house. “If you’ll forgive me, Kate, I’ve had about all th’ You, too, I can take for one evening.’ Now,” she said, sitting on the edge of Katie’s bed, “come an’ sit with me.”

Katie was still nervous at the sight of this strangely dressed girl I her room. Sizing her up, she didn’t think the girl posed much of a threat. She rose to her feet slowly, staring at the intruder.

“Come,” repeated the girl patting the spot next to her, “come sit with me. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

Katie hesitated a moment before saying, “Before I do anything, you have to tell me who you are and how you got into my house.”

The girl rose to her feet, facing Katie. “Who am I? Sure you might sooner believe how I got into your house than who I am.” A playful twinkle darted about her deep blue eyes.

“Don’t play games with me,” insisted Katie. “I’ll call the cops. They’ll put you in jail.”

“T’wouldn’t be the first time, I assure you, Kate.”

“And why do you talk so damn funny? What kind of an accent is that? You some foreign exchange student?”

“You might say that. Now, let me see. Where am I from? Do you mean most recently, or originally?”

“Just tell me who you are. You’re really beginning to piss me off. I’m going to call somebody.”

“Now calm down, Katie. Just calm down and I’ll tell you what you want to know. But first, please, sit down.”

Katie edged her way over to the desk and pulled out the chair. “I’ll sit here. You sit on the bed.”

“Suit yourself,” said the curious-looking girl.

What a stupid dream, Katie thought to herself, sitting down.

“Everything’s ‘stupid’ to you, ain’t it, Kathleen.”

She’d done it again! She’d read Katie’s thoughts. Katie jumped up, shoving the chair between herself and the girl. “Tell me who you are right now or I’m outta here!”

“Alright, alright,” said the girl. “Keep your britches on.” She sat back on the bed. “Me name’s Moira. Moira O’Fallon. Late of Ireland.”

“Your accent!” said Katie. “I knew you were a foreign exchange student. But how come I haven’t seen you around school?”

“School is it now? Why Katie, I haven’t been to school in, eh … now let me see …” Moira hung the index finger of her right hand between her teeth and began doing some mental calculations. “Well, let’s just leave it at a long, long time.”

“But you can’t be any older than me,” observed Katie. “Don’t you have to go to school in Ireland? Isn’t there a law or something?”

“T’be sure, there is. But I haven’t been in Ireland for quite some time – since 1821 to be exact. You see, Kathleen, I told you I was late of Ireland. Most recently I call heaven me home. I’m an angel’s helper, you see. From your very own special angel.”

Katie gawked at her a moment and then, considering what the girl had just said, nearly collapsed with exaggerated laughter. “Come on. Jody Parnell and her stupid friends put you up to this, didn’t they? Those dumb cheerleaders. I’ll get them for this.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t had th’ pleasure of meetin’ Miss Parnell. And what’s a cheerleader?”

Katie, all fear gone from her, walked straight towards Moira. “Look,” she said, “joke’s over. Go back and tell your jerky friends I got a big laugh out of this, okay? Ha. Ha. There, see? I laughed.”

“Sure this is no joke, Kate. I’m a real spirit from heaven, I am.”

“Well, if you are what you say you are, do something to prove it. Flap your wings and fly. You can do that, can’t you?”

“I told you, I’m an angel’s helper. We don’t have wings. I could do some other things but the Boss warned me against using cheap theatrical tricks. I’m afraid I’m not allowed. T’would be breakin’ the rules.”

“Some angel you are, or whatever you are,” said Katie, a note of disgust in her voice. “I mean, look at the way you’re dressed. You look like the poster child for a nerd-fest.

Moira sighed, rolled her eyes towards heaven and whispered, “Forgive me.” As she spoke, she disappeared in front of Katie and reappeared behind her instantly. “So, it’s me duds you don’t like?”

It took Katie a beat to realize what had happened. She whipped around to see Moira standing behind her. As she spoke again, Moira disappeared and instantly reappeared sitting atop Katie’s desk, her legs folded under her.

“Tsk, tsk, and I picked these out special, just for you.”

Katie turned back in shock to see Moira sitting on the desk. This time as she began to speak, Moira vanished from the desktop and immediately appeared seated on the headboard of Katie’s bed. “See, I thought you’d relate to me better if I looked like one of your own.”

Now totally disoriented, Katie screamed. “Stop that!”

With a little ping, Moira vanished from atop the headboard and immediately reappeared standing shoulder to shoulder with Katie. “As you wish, Kate.”

Seeing the girl appear next to her, Katie took a quick step away. “How’d you do that? You must be using mirrors or something.” Katie looked around the room to see if she could find an explanation for what she’d just seen.

“No, Kate. No mirrors. So, just what is it you don’t like about me outfit?”

“Jeeze. You have to ask? I haven’t seen anything that retarded since the first time my sister tried to dress herself. You look hideous!”

“Now, now, Kate. There’s no need to get nasty. I did th’ best I could. We don’t get Seventeen Magazine where I come from, you know.”

“Well, where did you get that god-awful outfit anyway?”

Moira looked down at her clothes, pulling up the ruffled elastic of her too-big tights around her exposed navel. “On me way down to visit you tonight, I passed through your mall and borrowed an article of clothing from each shop I’ve seen you go to. It hurts me a bit that you don’t like it.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” said Katie, changing her tone. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Here, let me do something.” She reached up and rearranged the bright blue baseball cap, turning the brim forward and tucking large shocks of hair behind Moira’s ears. “There, that’s better,” she said. “Listen, are you sure that bitch Christine Lindstrom didn’t put you up to this? She’s hated me since third grade.”

“I’m sure.” Moira paused a moment frowning. “Tell me, Kathleen. Why do you find it necessary to employ profanity? Is it th’ only way you have of makin’ a point?”

“I don’t know. I just use it, that’s all.”

“Well, take me word for it, it ain’t very becomin’ on you.” Katie avoided Moira’s eyes and shrugged her shoulders. “Well, now, Katie darlin’,” said Moira, “it’s more proof of who I am you’re wantin’ … hmm, let me see.” Moira tapped her index finger against her chin for a moment, thinking. Then, she extended her arm towards Katie saying, “Touch me arm and I’ll show you somethin’.”

Katie was hesitant.

“Come on, Kate, me arm, if you please.”

Katie moved slowly across the room. She brought her hand up slowly and lightly placed her fingertips on the bony arm Moira offered her.

Nothing happened.

“So?” said Katie, “what’s the big deal. I’m touching your arm and I don’t see anything.”

“Look,” said Moira, turning her head towards the bed. Katie’s gaze followed. What she saw brought her heart into her throat, cutting short an audible gasp.

“Oh, my God!” Katie croaked, bringing her free hand to her face in total disbelief. There was a little girl of about nine in Katie’s bed, sound asleep.

“Know who she is?” asked Moira.

Katie nodded, still having trouble believing what she was seeing. It was Katie herself, nine-years-old, sleeping in the bed. She remembered that old pink flannel nightgown. She loved it so much she wore it even after it became rags from wear.

“It’s me,” she finally said.

“And no one else. Now, do you know what day it is?” Katie shook her head. “Why, it’s Christmas Eve. Remember what you wanted that year?”

Katie nodded.

“That bicycle, am I right?”

Katie nodded again, unable to take her eyes off the child asleep in her bed.

“And did Father Christmas bring it to you?”

“Who?” asked Katie, turning to Moira.

“Oh, forgive me, Kate. I forget we’re in America. I mean, did Santa Claus bring it to you?”

“Yes,” she murmured, her eyes now fixed again on the Katie-child in her bed.

“Well then,” said Moira, “I want you to see somethin’ else. Somethin’ you didn’t see that Christmas.”

Moira moved towards the door, Katie still holding onto her arm. As they approached it, the door opened of its own accord. Moira threw a mischievous wink at Katie saying, “A few theatrics never hurt.”

Katie took one last look at her sleeping self as they turned the corner and started down the hall.

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