Making Waves Read online

  First published in Great Britain by Harper Collins Children’s Books in 2003

  This updated and revised edition published by Lazy Chair Press in 2013

  Text copyright (c) Annie Dalton 2001

  The author and illustrator assert the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of the work.

  This ebook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be leant, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the author’s prior consent in any form (including digital form) other than this in which it is published, and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This book is for Michael Cooke, who showed me Cockpit Country and helped me to imagine wicked Port Royal and the Black River Morass. Grateful thanks to Curdella Forbes and Nadi Edwards for recommending books, and a big thank you to Maria for sharing her brilliant ideas

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  About the Author

  Also by Annie Dalton

  Credits

  Chapter One

  I miss heaps of things about my old life. Funny little things, like the smell of the face cream Mum uses last thing at night. Plus of course there’s some fairly major stuff, like not being around to see my little sister grow up. Some days I miss Jade so badly, I’d willingly walk over burning coals to be with her for just one hour.

  But you know one thing I really don’t miss at ALL?

  All that posing humans feel they have to do! Why do people DO that? Nobody really wants to be a fraud, do they? I know I didn’t. Deep down I was desperate for my mates to like me just the way I was: bad habits, impossible dreams and all. Yet I kept up this big act, like I only cared about airhead stuff - style makeovers and shopping - and I wouldn’t recognise a deep thought if it bit me on the bum. WHY? Why didn’t I give my friends the chance to know the real Melanie Beeby?

  I was just too scared basically. After my dad walked out, I didn’t have much faith in the real Melanie. (Kids always think it’s their fault, don’t they?) So I invented a new improved personality to hide behind. Like, “I’m so sassy. I’m the princess of cool!”

  But humans weren’t designed to fake their way through life, and a couple of weeks before my thirteenth birthday, the cracks began to show.

  The weather was foul this particular day, absolutely chucking it down, and my step-dad, Des, had offered me a lift to school. Unfortunately we got stuck at some road-works. We got stuck so long, it would actually have been quicker to crawl to school on my hands and knees. Suddenly I started stressing. You know, REALLY stressing. Telling myself I was going to be late again and this time it wasn’t even my fault. Telling myself I was stupid to stay up half the night, making elaborate birthday invitations for my friends. Friends who didn’t actually care. Friends who didn’t even really know me.

  I think it was the thought of having to fake it through my own birthday celebrations that finished me off. I quickly stared out of the window, but all the little gasping sounds must have given me away.

  I felt Des put a clean tissue in my hand. “It’s going to be OK,” he said quietly. “One of these days you’ll find a real soul-mate, and you’ll never look back.”

  And without any warning, I was suddenly in the middle of this HUGE mystical experience! The gridlocked lorries belching toxic fumes, the giant diggers and earth movers, the workmen in their shiny rain slickers, the plastic supermarket bag that was randomly tumbling about in the wind, all started to shimmer with otherworldly light.

  I couldn’t speak. I could hardly even breathe. How come I hadn’t known my world was this beautiful?

  Then a workman gave me a cheeky smile and flipped his sign to read GO. The traffic queue started to move. The magical glow slowly faded, and I started feeling just a little bit silly. I decided it must have been a trick of the light. You see, back then, I wasn’t totally convinced that deep stuff like immortal souls or Good and Evil really existed.

  Well, they do, as I was just about to find out!

  The day after my birthday, I’d arranged to go shopping with my mates. My birthday cash was burning a hole in my pocket, and I was desperate to buy - I forget what, exactly. It’s irrelevant anyway. Angel HQ, a.k.a. the Agency, had made other plans…

  One minute I was crossing the street, humming a carefree tune, then BANG! I was soaring through the air like a swallow, skimming over rooftops, whooshing through clouds, and not only was I not showing signs of slowing down, I was in danger of being scorched by passing meteorites!

  I was having my first Out of Body Experience. Not to beat about the bush, I was seriously dead. A joyrider had knocked me down in the street. Apparently this was all part of some massive heavenly design which I’ll never entirely understand. The Agency must have had their guys invisibly watching over me for days. Quite possibly they were with me and Des in the car, when I was having my pre-birthday wobbles. The Agency never lets anyone die alone. They’re v. strict on that point.

  But like most humans, I had some weird ideas about what happens to the recently deceased. Since I didn’t meet up with a dead relative, or zoom down a tunnel towards the Light, the D-word never entered my head! I just thought the usual scientific laws had been temporarily suspended for some reason. Why else would I be skimming through space as gracefully as I flew in dreams as a little kid?

  I could hear strange and lovely sounds, like the throbbing of a huge invisible humming top. When I hear them now, I know I’m home. But to the old Mel Beeby, home meant a poky flat on a London housing estate, not a vast glittering void filled with cosmic sound FX!

  Then BAM! I was set down on solid ground. I was bewildered to find myself in a crowd of chatty teenagers who all seemed to be heading towards a pair of tall, very swanky gates. On the other side of the gates was what looked like an alarmingly posh high school.

  Of course, by this time I’m totally reeling. I’m like, what on EARTH am I doing here! Then I saw the view. And you know what? It wasn’t Earth.

  An exotic cityscape flashed and shimmered in the morning light: soaring glass skyscrapers, sparkling golden domes, curved roofs that looked almost airborne. It was like a city in the most wonderful dream you ever had.

  Everything seemed so alive. Even the light was more super-alive than the kind I was used to. And the air! When I breathed in, I went tingly from head to toe. It smelled wonderful - almost, but not quite, like lilacs.

  But the sign outside the school gates sent me into a spin of pure confusion.

  I told myself it was just a wussy name. It didn’t mean this was a school for actual angels. And OK, so these kids looked incredibly happy and confident. And OK, so they all had a rather unusual radiant glow. They probably just had excellent skin-care regimes.

  I know! I’m standing like, six inches away from the Pearly Gates, furiously trying to convince myself I’m not in Heaven!!

  Sometimes I think I’d still be standing there, but just then another suspiciously radiant girl hurried past with her mates. Everything about this girl was familiar; her glossy black curls, her tough-girl walk, the sparky intelligence in her eyes.

  And for the first time in years I did something that was NOT typical Melanie. I actually followed this fabulously cool person through the gates.

  The two of us immediately fell into step. Not intentionally. It just seemed to happen. We kept exchanging astonished glances. L
ike, what IS going on here?

  “Do I know you?” I blurted out suddenly.

  And guess what? She was thinking exactly the same thing!

  That’s how I met my soul-mate, Lola Sanchez, Lollie to her friends.

  Obviously a person does NOT normally have to die to find friends, OK? This is basically a friendly universe. Great mates can turn up anywhere and everywhere; even my old hellhole comprehensive.

  But I never knew this when I was alive. Plus, and this is pretty crucial, I didn’t actually know how to BE a friend. Like I said, I just knew how to fake it.

  Luckily I was so shocked by my own death that for one life-changing moment, I forgot to pretend. This sparky stranger seemed like a long-lost part of me, and I wasn’t about to let her vanish!

  It probably sounds as if I’m just telling you how Lola and I met up, as some kind of ice-breaker, before zooming on to something more major. I’m not. But I desperately need you to understand why Lola is so special to me.

  Listen, Lollie has loads of friends. She’s a friend magnet! Yet from my first day at the Angel Academy, this hugely popular angel girl made it her business to be there for me - yes, ME! Encouraging me to do my best, letting me cry on her shoulder when I’d made yet another cosmic boo-boo, then ruthlessly booting me back out into the Universe to try again - and again.

  Now that’s true friendship, right?

  It was Lola who finally taught me I didn’t have to fake it to be popular. “Melanie, I have met teeny-weeny worms with better opinions of themselves,” she sighed. “So your papa left you. That was harsh, angel girl. But get over it, you’re in Heaven now. It’s time to lose that airhead disguise!”

  Lola had only known me a few days when she said that, and already she knew me better than I knew myself! And this girl and I had SO much in common. Which is insane, since Lollie originally comes from the twenty-second century! Yet we had the same mad sense of humour, we loved almost exactly the same styles of music. And we regularly borrowed each other’s clothes.

  I felt so lucky it almost scared me. I couldn’t quite believe I could be this lucky. Unfortunately, the day came when I had a totally good reason to feel afraid.

  Our history group had been doing this huge project on ancient Egypt. Our teacher, Mr Allbright, decided it would be helpful to experience the vibes for ourselves. Omigosh, the hassle we had on that trip!! Not to mention the dust! The instant we got back, Lola and I dashed back to our dorms and showered like demons.

  Now I was catching up on homey chores: watering my thirsty baby orange tree, checking through my post. Lola was sitting on my bed in her PJs, writing up her report.

  Before she died and became an angel, my soul-mate lived in a vibey third-world city. Lollie herself is a mix of a dozen different nationalities: Portuguese, Dutch, African. She even has Mayan ancestry - can you believe that? Her granny told her that’s where she got her great cheekbones!

  I glanced across at this amazing girl and I thought how we would never even have met if it wasn’t for a total miracle. (No, trust me. Mel Beeby winning a cosmic scholarship is a miracle!)

  All at once I felt this pang of - I don’t know - foreboding. “Lollie, we’re always going to be friends, aren’t we?” I asked anxiously.

  She peered at me over her little reading glasses. “What’s wrong, girl? Not having a big bad premonition, are you?”

  The human Melanie would have denied everything. But thanks to Lola, I was getting better at sharing my true feelings. “I was just thinking I couldn’t bear it if I had to go back to that phoney person I used to be,” I said painfully.

  Lola leaned over and patted my hand. “That’s not going to happen! We’re soul-mates, carita. We knew each other back at the Dawn of Creation.” She gave me a mysterious smile. “And I’m pretty the Agency reunited us for a reason!”

  I felt a sudden prickle of excitement. “Are you serious?”

  Her eyes sparkled. “This is still like the apprenticeship stage. But once we’ve got through our angel warrior training, we’ll be incredibly wise and strong—”

  “—but in a cute way,” I suggested, giggling.

  “Cute?” Lola sniffed. “We’ll be gorgeous!! We’ll be such an unstoppable cosmic force, the PODS will go whimpering back to the Hell dimensions like ugly little puppy dogs!”

  “You really think so?” I said wistfully.

  Lola’s brows drew together. “Are you doubting the words of La Sanchez?”

  I swallowed. “Suppose we’d met on Earth? As humans I mean? Would we have recognised each other then?”

  Lola looked surprised. “Sure we would, Boo!”

  “But would we though?” I persisted. “There’s so much pressure on that little planet, Lollie. Even angels can’t hear themselves think.”

  “Hey girl, I’d know you anywhere! I’d feel it - in here.” Lola pressed her hand to her heart. “So would you.”

  I was so touched I didn’t know what to say.

  Next minute, Lola jumped up and turned up the volume on my radio, totally lightening the mood. “I just can’t get enough of this tune!” she sighed. “It is totally, totally luminous!”

  The radio station was playing a hip-hop remix of True Colors. We started to sing along. Lola literally sings like an angel. I sing more like a squeaky little reptile. But it sounded OK when we sang together. It sounded nice.

  But I must have been having a big bad premonition after all. Three weeks after our conversation, my soul-mate and I were torn apart, separated by something so dark, it could only have been invented in one of the Hell dimensions. Like all truly terrible things, though, it happened on Earth.

  But it really began with Brice.

  Chapter Two

  Sorry, I’ve got to interrupt the flow. I’m worried you don’t understand about the war. That cosmic war I’m always on about? I’m not sure you realise how big this is.

  It’s MASSIVE. Battles between the two major cosmic agencies are going on in every single century in human history. This conflict gets more intense every day. Want to know what we’re fighting over?

  YOU.

  The PODS, a.k.a. the Powers of Darkness, a.k.a. the Opposition, want total control of your souls. They want you to live your life in a kind of dreary waking dream where nothing matters because nothing feels real. They want you to forget who you are.

  You think that couldn’t happen, right?

  You think you’d know if someone was interfering with your head?

  Look, I don’t have time to get into PODS strategies right now, but trust me, OK? Those guys have been around for AEONS. They know a zillion dirty tricks to play on human minds. Our school library has a ton of books devoted to that one subject alone.

  My Agency, on the other hand, doesn’t want to own anybody’s soul, thanks. We think your soul is your personal property. We do have an agenda, but it’s the total opposite. We want you to wake up and remember who you really are, so you can have a fabulously rewarding time on your gorgeous little planet!

  Check this - life on Earth was actually meant to be FUN.

  Unfortunately, the Dark Powers have lulled millions of human beings into a state of cosmic amnesia. They’ve been doing it since Time began. They’re still doing it today. Now I’m going to let you in on another celestial secret.

  You are the reason the Heavenly City never sleeps. Yes - you!

  When I look out of the dorm window at night, I can see brilliant star bursts of light over the Agency Tower, FLASH, FLASH, FLASH, about a heartbeat apart. Know what that is? Each star burst is an agent returning from, or departing to, Planet Earth. Plus we have Heaven-based agents beaming uplifting vibes at you morning, noon and night. Joy, Peace, Love, whatever. Those aren’t just words in Christmas carols, you know. They’re powerful energy vibrations. We can actually see them on the Angel Watch computer screens, forming a beautiful web of light around your gorgeous little blue-green planet.

  That’s how precious humans are. That’s why the Agency will never
give up on you, EVER. Your family and friends might give up on you. You might actually give up on yourself. Hey, your dog might even give up on you! But the Heavenly City stays open for business twenty-four-seven.

  Which brings me right back to Brice, one-time cosmic dropout, now humiliatingly doing retakes at the Angel Academy.

  I’m not sure there is such a thing as an average angel, but if so Brice is definitely not it. The guy wears ripped T-shirts advertising bizarre celestial rock bands. He is basically a total outlaw.

  What is a boy like that doing in Heaven? Good question. I could tell you he’s a bad boy who sold his soul and accidentally found his heart. Or I could say he used to be a fallen angel who got homesick for the Light. However the truth is a little more complicated.

  I ran into him on my first field trip to Earth, when he was working for the PODS. Technically we were cosmic enemies. Technically, Brice and I were also total strangers. Yet for reasons I won’t go into, it felt like he knew me a leetle too well for comfort. Lola believes our meeting was some big prearranged karmic thing. She says when we met up that day in foggy 1940s’ London, our souls went, Omigosh, it’s you!

  “Brice made a big mistake,” Lola explained solemnly. “One day he woke up and found himself on the totally wrong side in the cosmic war. He needed to find a way back home, and you were it, girl.”

  Maybe, maybe not. But when the heavenly authorities finally agreed to let Brice come back to our school, I was disgusted. I couldn’t believe I had to share Heaven with this devious dirtbag!

  To listen to our headmaster, Brice’s dodgy past was all water under the bridge. Michael’s theory was, if you wait long enough, trees evolve into diamonds, and bad boys eventually come good.

  At the time I was like, yeah right, and we’re all made of Stardust and what’s that got to do with the price of cheese? But now I’ve started to wonder if there might be something in this evolution stuff after all, because my feelings towards Brice slowly began to change.