Angel Creek by Sally Rippin

whispered to the angel. ‘Go!’ The angel clung to her as it unfurled its enormous wings. They gleamed in the shadows. It beat them twice. Two slow beats and Jelly felt herself lifting upwards. Then her heart sank as it occurred to her that she was wrong. The bad thing was there. Right there in the tunnel, in the darkness, in the creek. The water reared up. A blinding light filled the tunnel and her head filled with pain. She felt her arms empty, her head grow light, then she sank into black.
    At that moment Jelly knew for certain.
    The angel had not come for her nonna.
    The angel had come for her.

17
    the dark, the light
    Jelly woke. She opened her eyes. She was lying in the mud of the creek bank in the dark of the tunnel. She didn’t know how or why but she had been saved. She was safe. The rain had stopped and the creek rushed past her feet, lapping at her shoes. But she was still there. Her body was hollow but her heart was full. In the distance she heard footsteps running towards her. She turned her head slowly and in the entrance she saw two figures silhouetted against the bright light of the day. Her dad rushed towards her, scooped her up into his arms. His face was wet. ‘Oh, my baby,’ he buried his head against her neck. ‘Oh, my baby girl. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.’
    He swung her up into his arms just like when she was a child and held her, her head against his neck. Jelly felt his chest heave. Then he turned back towards the entrance of the tunnel. ‘Where is he? Where’s that boy?’
    But he was gone.
    I owe you three times now, she thought.

18
    the power of wishes
    Jelly’s dad changed her out of her wet clothes and tucked her into bed. Maureen brought her a hot chocolate and Gino and Pik hung about in the doorway.
    â€˜She needs to rest now,’ her dad said. ‘You boys can see her later.’ He sat on Jelly’s bed.
    â€˜Does Mum know?’ she whispered.
    Dad nodded. ‘I called her.’
    â€˜I—I slipped…’ It was the only thing she could think of to say.
    â€˜It’s okay,’ he said. ‘For now all I care about is that you’re safe.’ He stroked her forehead. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again his eyes were shiny with tears.
    Dad stood up to close her blinds and she lay on her bed in the dark. He left the room and she heard him on the upstairs phone to Mum. She thought she heard him crying. She had only heard her dad cry like that once before. Eight years ago. When his father had died. She closed her eyes and prayed that Nonna was all right.
    She wished everyone would just come home.
    Jelly drifted in and out of sleep. Sometimes she woke and her dad was sitting next to her in the dark. She heard her mum come home. She came quietly into Jelly’s room and kissed her forehead. She heard Gino and Pik get into their beds on the floor.
    She was there but also not.
    Soon the house was quiet.
    She fell into a dream-filled sleep.

    The baby angel was sitting at the end of her bed. It crouched there, knees tucked under its chin, peeling grapes and popping them into its mouth. When it realised Jelly was watching, the angel smiled and passed Jelly a grape. Jelly looked down at the smooth grape in her open palm. As she watched, the grape began to grow. Its translucent sides split open and hundreds of tiny silver angels, each one no bigger than a firefly, spun into the air. As they reached the open window they drifted up into the night sky where they spread out across the darkness, glittering like stars.

    The next morning, Jelly woke with the birds. They were singing loud and bright around her window and the sun crept through the slats of her blinds. She lay awake and listened to Pik and Gino sleeping.
    â€˜Gino,’ she hissed. She leaned over and shook him gently till he stirred.
    â€˜Hmm?’
    â€˜Shh, don’t wake Pik.’
    â€˜What is it? Are you