Angel Over My Shoulder by Pace, Pepper
Angel Over My Shoulder
by
Pepper Pace
Dedication
One day I was talking to a friend and co-worker regarding a story that I had written about a young woman that had fallen in love with a ghost which was haunting her new apartment. Neither of us could figure out what the story was missing but we knew that it just wasn’t hitting what either of us wanted from such a story. I decided that I would just try again and this is the result of our little collaboration. And so, I want to dedicate this story to Leslie for encouraging me to write it and for being enthusiastic about me becoming an author—even though she was completely against me putting my work online for free (smile). Oh and by the way, I need to also thank Leslie for lending me all of those books written by African American authors—both well known and not so well known. I think that was her way of providing me with incentive to publish.
Special thanks go out to Honeybree for editing the Literotica version of this story. She helped to polish it and to make it shine. I would also like to thank my friend Richard who is a retired police officer who provided me with some of the law enforcement terminology and guided me in the right direction concerning identity theft.
And of course I have to thank my blog followers for the feedback they gave when the first version of this story appeared on Literotica.com. For anyone who thinks they have read this story before, you might be surprised to find that it has gone through some big changes.
Copyright
© 2012 by Pepper Pace. All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of Pepper Pace.
PEPPER PACE BOOKS
~***~
STRANDED!
Love Intertwined Vol. 1
Love Intertwined Vol. 2
JUICY
Urban Vampire; The Turning
Urban Vampire; Creature of the Night
Wheels of Steel Book 1
Wheels of Steel Book 2
Wheels of Steel Book 3
CRASH
Disclaimer
~***~
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental, any references to actual places is used fictitiously. Any reference to music is in no attempt to claim ownership. All rights belong to the musical artists. This book contains child sexual abuse, strong language and graphic depictions of sexual acts and drug use. It is intended for adult readers only.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Copyright
PEPPER PACE BOOKS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
ANGEL OVER YOUR SHOULDER
Chapter 1
Leslie stood before the caskets of her mother and father. Grandmama was holding one of her hands in her own gloved one. Fat tear drops were rolling down her brown cheeks, only to splash from her chin leaving black spots along the collar of her black dress. Leslie wanted to stick out her tongue and catch one of the drops as it fell, the way she used to do when it rained. But even at five years old she knew that she had to be still.
When she fidgeted, people looked at her. Sometimes they frowned, sometimes they gave her a kind smile, sometimes they just cried harder. But she couldn’t sit still, she just had to scratch because Grandma had dressed her in a wool coat that itched. She had also made her wear an ugly black velvet dress with pleats and Mary Jane shoes that squeaked when she walked. Mama had never made her wear clothes like this. But then she had never been to a funeral before…well other than the ones in her dreams.
Uncle Monty kept shooting her strange looks. He swooped down suddenly and lifted her into his arms. “It’s ok to cry, you know.”
Leslie didn’t tell him that she already knew it was ok to cry. She had cried the first time she’d seen the funeral. Even if she did talk, she still would not have told him these things. Grandmama said that it was ok if she didn’t want to talk. Before Mama and Daddy died she talked a lot but not after. She just didn’t have anything to say…and even if she did have something to say, there was no reason to say it.
“Don’t you want to say goodbye to your Mama and Daddy?”
Leslie just stared at Uncle Monty. Sometimes people said that there was something wrong with her and that she needed to see a special doctor. Uncle Monty was one of those people. Grandmama didn’t care and Uncle Monty didn’t matter, so she was ok with staring at him as if he was the crazy one.
She had already been to this funeral. She had already done this before; she’d already said her goodbyes. She assumed that all people saw certain things twice; once in dreams and again when they happened in real life months, maybe years later.
She had seen her first day of kindergarten before it had ever happened. Angel had taken her to school before Mama ever had. At the time, Angel didn’t have a name. She hadn’t given him the name until he first showed her the funeral.
Before that he was the presence that was always in her dreams. He was mostly the backdrop but at times he came to the forefront. She never knew a time when he wasn’t somewhere in her dreams, either watching in the distance, or standing just behind her. He never told her his name because he never spoke. Therefore, in the beginning he didn’t have a name, and that was ok. It was also ok that Leslie didn’t even really know what he looked like. She never looked at him directly, had never needed to. He was a boy, or a teenager, or maybe even an adult.
Before the first day of school had ever happened, he had held her hand and led her into the classroom, wordlessly taking her to the coat bin where she would hang her sweater, and then showed her the desk that the teacher would have her sit. Afterwards he let her play with the toys that were in the basket of the cubby while he sat on top of the teacher’s desk. She knew it was bad to sit on furniture like that but would never think to tell him not to do that. If he did it, then it was right, and that’s just how it had always been.
But the day Angel showed her the funeral marked the day that everything changed—in, as well as outside of her dreams.
Always before, her dreams had just been fun fantasies of cartoons and over indulgences. Rarely did she dream of something scary, like the circus clowns, or the Wolfman. Life was good to her five year old mind. In kindergarten she learned her letters, sat in the reading circle, and then had milk and cookies for snack. Mama would pick her up after school and then she could watch cartoons or go outside and play with Dante and Damita, the twins who lived next door. Daddy would come home from work and he would ask her about her day, just as if she was a big girl. She was especially happy when they got to go to the movies or the zoo or shopping for new clothes.
Then one night she went to sleep and found herself sitting in front of the television screen. She assumed that everyone dreamed of the television screen. The TV was old fashioned; the type that required you to change the channels manually by turning a knob. Sometimes images would flash across the screen at a rapid pace, as if someone was channel surfing.
Always, she would have a few moments to wonder, ‘why am I just sitting here?’ Once the realization hit her she would know that she was dreaming. Leslie understood that once she knew that she was dreaming then she would remember this dream later. Déjà vu is the word that she would learn. And then he would come out from the background and into the forefront.
And that’s when he would take her to see things that would come true.
On this day, he placed his hand on her shoulder and she began walking. People were crowded around her, looking at her with sadness and she didn’t know why. But she kept walking until the two of them were standing alone. The crowd of people had gathered on a hill some yards away and there they stood as if they were waiting for something important to happen.
The two of them watched until Leslie lost interest and then they were suddenly some place different; inside of a church. This time they just stood in the doorway and watched people sitting in pews crying. Immediately she didn’t like it. He reached down and held her hand and she tried to move forward but he stayed rooted to the spot. It meant that he wanted her to just watch. He’d done that before; not allowed her to participate, just to watch.
She suddenly saw her grandmother sitting in one of the pews and she was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue that needed to be thrown away and replaced with a fresh one. Beside her was…her. It was the first time that she’d seen herself in a dream. She stared, amazed; this was like watching a movie.
She looked up for the first time in her life, to meet the eyes of her guide. It was like looking into the eyes of her father, or a teacher, or some other person that she trusted. He didn’t look at her, he was staring at the front of the church and so she did as well. Two coffins were there and Leslie still didn’t connect how significant this was to her. She was five and she looked at the flowers and her other self and her grandmother instead.
After a few more moments of boredom, Leslie released his hand and moved forward. Would the other her be able to see her? But when she reached her other self her guide was suddenly there again. He placed his hand on her shoulder and led her to the coffins. She hadn’t even paid attention to the two coffins...not until she saw the large portrait that set between them. It was of her Mama and Daddy.
Leslie could feel her chest constrict as if it was being squeezed by a large fist. She moved forward to the picture.
“That’s my Mama and Daddy.” She pointed to it, looking back and forth from him and the portrait. A desperate understanding was forming in her mind as she waited for his explanation.
He didn’t even look at her, let alone acknowledge her silent question. He was staring at the caskets, from one to the other. Reluctantly she allowed her eyes to look into one of the boxes. Her mother lay lifelessly within it. Leslie felt as if her entire world was crumbling at her feet. Everything seemed to fade away except for the sight of her mother lying amidst the white satin and ruffles. Her skin was grey and ashy and she didn’t look like herself. Her lips looked funny and so did her eyes. And she was wearing a dress that Leslie had never seen.
“That’s not my mommy!” She backed away from the casket, bumping into him. “Where is MY mommy?!” Hot burning tears were suddenly in her eyes. At first he didn’t look like he would answer. He kept staring at the casket, which meant he wanted her to see. But she didn’t want to see. Finally he knelt down and stared at her.
“Look.” He had never spoken before, not ever. Still, she couldn’t stop crying. He put his hand on her chin so that she would look at him. “Look.” The fact that she’d never before heard his voice finally got through and caused her tears to stop. She paused in order to listen to it. He stood up again and stared at the casket of her dead mother. Reluctantly she turned and she looked too.
Leslie blinked her brown eyes. The woman in the casket had her eyes closed, yet this time she merely looked as if she were sleeping. It was her mother! There was a slight smile on her face as if she was at peace. It was different then the husk of a person that she’d seen before.
The horror was replaced with anguish which almost brought the little girl to her knees. “Mamma, I don’t want you to be dead!” But Mama just lay there with that peaceful smile on her face. Daddy! She remembered him suddenly and rushed to the second coffin. “No, no, no!” She screeched. Daddy was there looking the way he did when he fell asleep on the couch while watching TV.
Leslie looked over at the figure of her crying grandmother sobbing in the pew and she turned in that direction to fall into the comfort of her arms. Suddenly hands were grabbing her and holding her back. She looked at the face of the man that had always been her guide and protection and she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed against his chest. He lifted her into his arms and paced back and forth. When the sobs resided he placed her back onto her feet.
She looked up at him. She was shaking and frightened tears streamed down her face. “I want to wake up now.” It seemed that he tried to stare at the caskets but eventually he looked at her and took her hand again.
“Who are you?” She was staring at him for the first time that she could remember. He wasn’t black like she was, but maybe he was still in her family. He felt like family. His brow raised and he looked at her as if he didn’t understand.
“Are you my Guardian Angel, like they talk about in bible school?” Mrs. Blankenship had taught them about an Angel over your shoulder. He was the only person that had ever been over her shoulder…
“You need to say goodbye to your Mama and Daddy,” he spoke, looking at her intently. A fearful expression crossed her face, yet she couldn’t really be very afraid because she was so focused on his accent. He said yo instead of your. White people always talked proper like her teacher. They didn’t say yo instead of your.
She looked at the caskets with trepidation and turned back to him. “Come with me, Angel.”
He did without hesitation.
She stared at the bodies in the caskets. They were again just the empty shells of what her parents had been. “My Mama and Daddy are already gone.” She looked up at Angel for confirmation. He didn’t respond. Then she brightened. “They’re at home! When I wake up they’ll be at home!” She looked at him beaming brightly. He smiled slightly.
With a sigh she took his hand and together they walked out of the room. He didn’t want to talk and that was fine. She just wanted to wake up and go home.
When she woke up Leslie’s little t-shirt was soaked in sweat and her cheeks were still wet with tears. She threw off her covers and ran into Mama and Daddy’s bedroom. When she saw them sleeping; real sleeping and not dead sleeping, she felt total relief. She scurried into their bed and they made room for her without coming fully out of their sleep. She snuggled between their bodies in their big bed and she found comfort in the fact that she could feel Mama pressed against her body on the right and Daddy on her left. She tried not to think of the dream but couldn’t help it and for a few minutes she feared falling asleep. But before she knew it, the feeling that all was ‘right’ overwhelmed her fears and she fell asleep. Before she knew it, she was waking up and the sun was shining brightly into the room. She jumped up to begin her day, forgetting her dream completely.
Chapter 2
~1979~
Leslie was running. She could run for a long time and never get tired. But sometimes she got sidetracked. She was trying to get home. She hadn’t been home in so long. If she could get home Mama and Daddy would be there. It was the way things worked in dreams. Once Angel had taken her home and it had been wonderful, she had not wanted to leave. She had almost forgotten what her Mama and Daddy looked like.
When she tried to tell them about how they had died in an auto accident and how she now lived with Grandmama they pretended not to know what she was talking about. Funny thing is that when she was at home she could talk again. That was good. And it was good that they pretended not to know. She could pretend to.
She was running to get back home and to that good feeling, but holes kept appearing in the ground, like land mines, but with flames shooting from them. She almost fell into one but Angel was suddenly there and he grabbed the back of her shirt, yanking her back to safety. She was so happy to see him. She hugged him and he smiled; something he rarely did. Neither of them talked, she only talked to her Mama and Daddy. She knew Angel would help her find h
Over the years Angel had taken her many places. Now that it was just her and Grandmama she never got to go to the circus, or the zoo. And Grandmama never went took her to the drive-in and then carried her into the house when she pretended to be too sleepy to walk.
But in her dreams Angel rode the carousel with her. They always got on one of the horses that went up and down and he always rode with her; her in front and him in back. They waved at the faces of the people that flew by. And at the zoo he held his nose when they went into the ape house. Dreams like those weren’t real, weren’t going to be real. She knew the difference. And sometimes when she woke up after one of them she would wish that Angel was real. She could almost wish for him to be her new Daddy but he was too young. He was just a teenager, maybe he could be her big brother, even though he was a white boy and she was a black little girl…well maybe all she needed was for him to just be her friend.