The Doctrine of Saint Hollie
Eden's huge moon hung low on the horizon, silvering sharp edges and blurring gentle ones into a vast, monochromatic landscape. The spindly trees leaned drunkenly in measured ranks, their leaves drooping in the windless morning. The raw, freshly scoured earth around the buildings reflected the moonlight like water.
Hollie pulled her shawl tighter around herself as she ran out of the kitchen door and along the path to the barn. Her thick-soled shoes thud-thudded on the damp soil and her breath steamed around her face. As she rounded the corner of the house she glanced down the valley to the wetlands below. The mist was rising slowly from the swampy ground, pale grey in the low light. Hollie frowned and ran on towards the barn.
Shivering, she pushed at the door until it opened enough for her to slide through. It was warmer inside the barn and she ran to the end stall. Her father was standing over Bessie, who lay on her chest on the straw covered floor, head lolling drunkenly, long strings of drool coming from her flaccid tongue. Her father was filling a bottle with warm water and glucose. He looked up and smiled at her.
"Hallo, Sprout! Do you want to hold her head or hold the bottle?"
"Bottle, please." Bessie's head was heavy and she hated the slimy feel of the cow's saliva.
Hollie's father held up Bessie's head and she trickled the mixture over the tongue and down the throat. Bessie's throat moved convulsively.
"Look, dad!"
"Well, so she's swallowing now. That's a good sign."
"Do you think she'll be all right?"
"I think she will. She's improved on yesterday."
"Will Mr Jones get better too?"
Her father didn't answer for a moment. "We can only hope and pray for him, Hollie."
"John? John! Hollie!"
Hollie's father smiled and took the bottle from her. "You go,
before she gets in more of a tizz. I'll be along in a moment."
Hollie nodded and patted Bessie's smooth hide. She wiped her hands on her long apron. As she slipped through the barn door, she paused again to look down the little hill to the valley below. The mist was inching up the hillside. No wonder her mother was upset. She ran along the path to the house.Her mother met her at the door with little Daniel on one hip. She glanced behind Hollie. "Where's your father?"
"He's coming, mother. He just had to finish feeding Bessie." Hollie pulled her shawl up over her hair and tucked her hands under her arms.
"How much longer will he be? We have to hurry, the mist will be here soon!"
"It's ok, Mother. It's only just rising now."
"Hollie!" Her mother grabbed her arm. "You mustn't go near the mist!"
Hollie tried not to show her annoyance. "I didn't, Mother. I saw it from the top of the hill."
"Well, you shouldn't have dawdled. You- oh, here he is. Thank the Lord! John, we have to leave!"
"I know, Maggie, I know. We've got plenty of time. The mist is only just rising."
"I told you," said Hollie quietly.
Her father winked at her and took her hand. "Come on, then."
They walked out to the narrow dirt road that led to the church at the centre of the colony. Their farm was on the furthest edge of the settlement and they walked alone until they reached the Jones' house. Mrs Jones was standing on the little porch, wringing her hands. As Hollie's family drew near, two men emerged, carrying Mr Jones on a stretcher. Hollie's mother handed Daniel to her father and went straight to Mrs Jones and took her hand.
"How is he, Louise?"
"A little better, I think." The woman clasped her mother's hand. The two women came down the porch stairs after the stretcher.
Hollie's father nodded and said "good morning" to Mrs Jones. They followed the stretcher along the road.
As they neared the church, they were joined by more people. In the stillness, voices were hushed. Hollie gripped her father's hand tightly and looked behind her at the pale shapes of the wooden houses. The distant hills had disappeared. The mist was following them.
The church doors were open. Pastor Dean stood at the top of the short flight of steps, urging people in and speaking comforting words. The crowd filed into the narrow wooden structure, no-one pausing to talk on the steps.
Inside it was still cold. Hollie's father released her hand. "I'm going to get breakfast, Maggie."
Her mother nodded. "We'll be on this side."
They found seats on one of the hard pews. Children were encouraged to the floor on pillows, to resume interrupted sleeps.
"Did you want to lie down, Hollie?"
Hollie shook her head. This was her third morning in the church and she was used to the early rising, now. She didn't feel the least bit tired.
Hollie's father appeared beside them with a plate of bread, cheese and some jam. Around them families were settling and breakfasting, plates balanced on their knees. They jumped as the doors slammed.
"Sorry," said Pastor Dean, as he made his way up the middle aisle. "Are we all comfortable?" He took his time now, stopping to speak to people, pausing beside Mrs Jones to hold her hand and speak to her. She sat on the far edge of a pew, her inert husband on the floor beside the pew, where she could reach him. Hollie shivered and glanced out of the windows to the sky still dotted with pale stars.
Eventually Pastor Dean made his way to the dais and surveyed the room. His hands were pressed together, but he smiled.
"My friends, if you have breakfasted, let us begin with a prayer."
Hollie closed her eyes and listened.
"Dear Lord, here you see before you your dutiful children. We ask you for the strength and courage to face the tests you have placed before us. We pray for hope for those who have been struck down; for Clem Jones, Mark Twaithe and Jenny Spears. We thank you for leading us to our new home, and pray that you will find us worthy. Amen."
"Amen," Hollie murmured. She opened her eyes and immediately looked up at the window. The sky was gone and outside was dull, roiling grey. The mist had reached the church. Hollie settled herself into the pew and prepared for the long hours ahead.
"Friends, let me read to you today from the book of Isaiah." Pastor Dean opened his Bible and began. "In the year that king Uzziah died I saw also the LORD sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, and his train filled the temple. Above it stood the seraphims: each one had six wings; with twain he covered his face, and with twain he covered his feet, and with twain he did fly. And one cried unto another, and said, Holy, holy, holy, is the LORD of hosts: the whole earth is full of his glory. And the posts of the door moved at the voice of him that cried, and the house was filled with smoke."
Hollie leaned across to her father. "What's twain?" she whispered.
"It means two," he whispered back.
"Shhh!" said her mother.
Hollie leaned back in her seat. She knew what seraphim were; they were angels. On the ship, she had gone to Sunday school and they had learned about God and Jesus and the wickedness of man. She knew that God loved her. Her last Sunday school had been the story of Saint Dieter and how he led his people to Eden.
"It's a good story; because it's our story," said her teacher.
Hollie thought it was exciting to be in a story. "Is it an adventure story?"
"It's story of triumph, of good over evil, of dedication and forbearance," said her teacher. They watched again the recording of Dieter telling his people that their new home had been found.
"What's the story called?"
"It's called the Journey of the Hundred."
That was obvious; one hundred people, from ancient Dieter to baby Ben, had crossed the space between the stars and come to Eden. She herself had been born on the ship. They had landed on the pale soil and given thanks for their new home. The pre-fabricated buildings had gone up and the people had gone to bed rejoicing in their new home.
And then the morning mists had brought sickness and fear. Hollie sighed. Three days more until Sunday. She wanted to ask so much of her teacher. But Miss Wilson was always busy now, caring for the ailing Dieter. She would have to wait to ask her questions.
"Then said I, Lord, how long? And he answered, until the cities be wasted without inhabitant, and the houses without man, and the land be utterly desolate."
"And the LORD have removed men far away, and there be a great forsaking in the midst of the land. But yet in it shall be a tenth, and it shall return, and shall be eaten: as a tall tree, and as an oak whose substance is in them, when they cast their leaves: so the holy seed shall be the substance thereof. Let us pray."
The congregation bowed their heads and Hollie bowed over her own clasped hands. She peeked sideways and was relieved to see the mist glowing as the sun shone through it. Not long now.
---
Hollie jerked as she woke, and saw the sun shining in through the windows. The colonists were gathered in small groups. Children ran between the groups. The doors to the church were open and the sun streamed in.
Hollie looked around for her parents. Her mother and Daniel were beside Mrs Jones and her father was talking to the pastor. Her mother spotted her and beckoned her over. "Hollie, take Daniel outside and play for a while, will you?"
Hollie took his hand and led him out of the church. Daniel bounced with every step. "Hollie," he burbled. "Holliehollieholliehollie." Outside on the dirt, groups of children clustered, watched by one of the congregation. Daniel ran to join a friend and Hollie wandered after him slowly. She waved to a girl from her Sunday school class.
At the edge of the cleared area, she found a comfortable rock to sit on. Behind her the spindly trees swayed in the morning breeze. The sun had only been up a short time, but already the ground was heating up, dampness steaming gently upwards.
Hollie picked up a stick and poked around near where she was sitting. She gathered sticks and leaves and made patterns on the ground. As she grabbed one stick, it disturbed some soil and she saw a flash of white.
"Oh!" She called her brother as she kneeled on the fallen leaves. She cleared the dirt away with her stick, unearthing a group of small white ovals buried in the soil.
Daniel ran up to her. "Poppers!" he cried, as he saw the white ovals. He waved to his friends. "Hollie found poppers!" His cry brought groups of children running.
"There's not enough for everyone," said Hollie. She handed one to Daniel, determined that he at least would get one, and then began passing them out to the smaller children in the group, until they were all distributed, thirteen in all. The ovals were pressed gently at one end until the tough, leathery skin burst and the milky, liquid interiors oozed out and were devoured with relish. Both salty and sweet, the fluid was delicious and enjoyed by everyone.
The older children who had missed out began hunting around the slender trees. The watchful parent came over and smiled as she saw the flaccid cases. "Oh, poppers! Who found them?"
"Hollie!" everyone cried.
Mrs Benson smiled at her. "And did you get one, Hollie?"
"No, Mrs Benson, but that's ok, I don't mind." Someone else called out as another nest of poppers was found and Hollie ran over, hoping to get one. The eager children found plenty of poppers lightly buried in the still-damp soil.
The congregation began to file out of the church, keen to get to work delayed by the mists. Hollie heard her father calling them. She wiped her sticky hands on her apron, grabbed Daniel and ran over to their father.
"Home again, Sprout. We've got weeding to do today." Hollie pulled a face and her father ruffled her hair. Their mother was speaking to another parishioner, but said her goodbyes and joined them.
The village street was crowded and they walked beside their neighbours. Groups turned off as they reached their homes, waving and calling well-wishes. Hollie saw Mr Jones carried back into the house.
At home, Daniel and her mother went to the kitchen and Hollie joined her father in the fields. As they reached the field, Hollie heard her father sigh.
"What's wrong?" she leaned over the gate to look into the field.
"More grub infestations, Hollie. He pointed down the rows and then she saw the group of wilting plants between the healthy, strong ones. They walked down the rows. Hollie's father pulled out the wilted plants, examining the damage to fragile roots. He dug down into the soil and they unearthed four of the fat, glistening grubs.
"Yuck," said Hollie, and looked away as her father squashed them with the shovel. They dug around but didn't unearth any more grubs.
"Well, I hope that's all of them. We can't afford to lose many more plants."
"Can't we just plant new ones, dad?"
"We can, Sprout, but we need a certain number to grow and set seed so that we have enough for food and also enough seeds to make more plants. The grubs have made such a mess of everyone's crops, we might not have enough food."
"Oh," said Hollie. "but we've still got cows and veggies."
"And what do you think the cows are going to eat? We need grains, Hollie, and hay, and all our earth plants. We can't eat the trees. Not much on this planet is nutritious, for us or the animals." He stood, and dusted off his hands. "We've got to make these crops work Hollie, or we're finished." He grinned at her. "And that means weeding. Come on."
They worked together, he attacking the larger weeds with a hoe, she pulling the smaller ones from between the slender stems of the sprouting oat seedlings. She measured them with her hands, to see if they had grown much since yesterday. Her father saw what she was doing and laughed at her.
"Will they be as big as trees tomorrow?"
Hollie pulled a face at him.
When they were done they trudged back to the house to wash muddy hands and boots. Hollie's mother met them at the kitchen door with food and a bowl.
"When you're finished eating Hollie, fetch some ball mushrooms for me." Hollie smiled. Mushroom collecting was much more fun. She could explore the woods around their home and play among the low trees. As long as she brought home a full bowl, her mother was happy.
She left her plate and cup on the bench outside the kitchen and ran into the woods. The spindly trees swayed and whispered around her. The colonists had been here for over a week now but it was all still new for Hollie. She poked things with a stick, gathered interesting and colourful leaves and hunted among the low bushes for the ball fungus. She found only a few of the round, yellowish balls. She moved further into the woods, unafraid. There was nothing on Eden that could harm them. There was nothing on Eden at all except insects, spindly trees and colonists. And the mists.
Further afield she had more luck, finding several of the large, round, juicy fungi growing out of the soil. She gathered slowly, distracted often by new and interesting things.
Her bowl was almost full, and she was thinking about returning home, when she heard a new sound. Hollie paused and listened. A slap-slap-slap sound, not like leaves moving in the wind or tree trunks rubbing together or the hum of insects. She put down her bowl and moved forward cautiously. Slap-slap-slap, pause. Slap-slap-slap-slap. A wet, sticky sound.
Hollie pushed through some bushes and saw, in a patch of sunlight, the long, strap-like leaves of a sticky-plant. It was curling its long leaf around something, trying to suffocate it so it would die and rot and its corpse would feed the plant in the thin soil. Bright, colourful wings fluttered. Sparkling eyes in a narrow, pointed head turned and looked at her.
Hollie ran forward and grabbed the sticky leaf. She struggled to unwrap it from around its victim. Eventually the leaf uncurled enough for the bright winged thing to crawl out. It flopped onto the ground. Hollie gasped in surprise. It was much bigger than any insect Hollie had yet seen on Eden. She reached out a hand to measure it; two hands long. It was almost entirely covered in the plant's sticky secretions. It tried to move its wings but they were held tightly in the sticky substance and only made a pathetic slap-slap against the ground. It sat up on six of ten thin legs and began to scrape the goo off with its back legs.
Hollie watched in fascination as the thing began to emerge from its sticky prison. It had a short, plump body that seemed to move flexibly in all directions. A pointed head emerged from one end on a slender neck. Ten legs were attached to the body and from the back grew six opalescent, shining wings.
"Oh!" said Hollie, remembering the sermon from this morning. "You must be an angel!" She giggled at her own whimsy.
Hollie reached out and removed a leaf that had stuck to the angels' body. It turned its head towards her. Two of the middle legs moved and she heard a high-pitched, musical hum. She pressed her lips together and tried to hum back, but couldn't match the musical tones.
Finally the angel removed the last of the sticky mess. It stood on six of its ten legs and raised its torso. It shuffled its wings into position above its back and shuffled around to face her.
Hollie shrieked and tumbled backwards as the angel ran towards her, legs a blur of speed. It rushed up her legs and onto her chest, where it paused. The angel picked up two of its legs and rubbed them together.
This time the sound was not muffled and the high, wild song rose through the trees. The angel's wings blurred and it rose smoothly from her chest, still singing. Hollie leaped to her feet and danced. She leapt and spun and skipped and sang the wild angel song as the angel flew and spun above her.
The angel stopped singing and Hollie looked around her in surprise. They were in a large clearing in the wood. In the centre of the clearing was a domed structure, tall as a house. As she watched, angels began to zoom out of narrow holes in the dome. They buzzed towards her but then her angel began its song again and danced before them, up and around and over and between. Slowly the others joined him, following the complex, winding route until the air was whirling with their dance.
Just as suddenly they stopped and dived into the dome. Hollie saw angels settling in the openings, their wings fanning gently. Her angel landed on her head, briefly, and she felt the prickly feet on her scalp. Then it rose and dived into one of the low openings.
Hollie stepped forward and peered into the opening, down a narrow, dim corridor. The mound smelled of decaying leaves and also a pungent, sweet smell. She touched the walls; they were hard, she could see the shapes of leaves, covered in a shiny substance. The angel appeared in front of her again, then buzzed back down the corridor. Hollie hesitated before climbing in through the narrow hole. The floor beneath her moved gently and she slowed, but it did not break. She could feel sticks beneath her hands as she crawled forwards. Her body blocked the light and she could see little. She heard buzzing and felt the air move in front of her as the angel once more advanced and retreated.
The air became warmer as she crawled further into the dome. The sweet smell rose and hung thickly in the air. Hollie crawled on in the darkness, towards a pale red glow. Suddenly her hand encountered only space and she tumbled forward. She landed on a pile of dry leaves that crackled beneath her. Hollie sat up and looked around.
As her eyes became accustomed to the dim light, she saw that she was in a domed room. The walls were covered in rounded objects, like upside-down bowls, with knobs and lumps all over them. The light came from these; each one had glowing area, the colours ranging from light yellow to deep red. The combined light from these bowl-shaped things was soft and filled the room.
As she watched, angels buzzed in and landed on the glowing things. Some angels carried little balls in their claws. She saw an opening appear on a thing and the angel pushed the little ball in. Other angels came in and landed on the things, patting with their front feet at the knobs, which squirted a liquid onto their feet. The angel would then zoom off.
Hollie stood up, curious about the squirts. The top of the dome was still well out of reach and she could see the squirts went all the way to the top. She walked forward and reached out a hand to one of them. It felt hard and cool to the touch, but when she pressed, the skin gave a little. One of the knobs squirted her hand. She jerked back with a cry of surprise. The liquid was cool and slightly tacky. She touched it with her fingers and sniffed it.
Suddenly the squirts around her all began to shoot liquid. She shrieked and stumbled backwards. Soon she was covered in the sticky substance. The elusive scent became stronger until she couldn't breathe without smelling it. And the smell made her feel curious. She stopped wiping at the goo. Curious, questioning. What was she? The visions rose in her mind. She saw herself standing in the dome, but the vision was fractured, as if through broken glass. She closed her eyes and the images grew stronger. She saw the angels rubbing against the knobs. She opened her eyes and reached out again to one of the squirts. She touched the knobbly protuberance and the squirt responded by spraying her fingers. Other squirts sent liquid jets shooting out to her and she felt the safety of the dome, how dangerous it was outside. She saw the darkness and the mist and the angels flying into the mist where it was safe from the prying eyes of the things that would eat them.
Then she saw things from her own eyes; gathering the ball mushrooms, coming home from church, the mists, planting the oats, clearing the trees, looking away as her father squished the grubs.
The squirts began glowing, stronger and deeper. More liquid rained down on her and Hollie felt the need to leave, to run. Go. She must go she must go shemustgo. Hollie blindly crawled back down the tunnel and ran.
She ran a long way back into the woods before the urgent need left her. She slowed, panting. The liquid on her was drying, cracking and flaking from her skin and clothing. She brushed it off and looked around. She wasn't quite sure where she was. She had never been this far into the woods before. She turned around. All the trees looked the same. Nothing was familiar. Hollie picked a direction and walked.
---
"Hollie! Hollie!" Her mother's voice in the distance was very welcome.
"Mother!" Hollie ran forward. A few minutes later she saw her mother, holding the bowl of ball mushrooms that Hollie had forgotten in her dance with the angel.
"Hollie!" Her mother ran forward. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, mother! I-"
"Where have you been? Why did you run off? I've been waiting for you to come back with those mushrooms! Pastor Dean is here talking to father and you're playing in the woods! Hollie, you know better than to shirk your duties!" Her mother took her hand and led her back through the woods. "I'm very upset with you Hollie. I expected better of you. You're a big girl now and you need to show some responsibility."
"But mother, I saw an ANGEL! It was-"
"Hollie!"
Hollie stopped at the look on her mother's face. Her mother put down the bowl and crouched in front of her. "Hollie, you mustn't say things like that."
"But I did! It had six wings, just like Pastor Dean said, and-"
Her mother gave her a little shake. "Hollie, you mustn't say that!"
"But I-"
"Hollie, I know these are frightening times. We're all scared of the mists and worried that we have offended God, that's he's punishing us."
"I'm not afraid, mother. And father says-"
"I know what your father says. But he doesn't…he's not…. Hollie. We must be careful." She looked directly into Hollie's eyes. "Do you understand?"
"No," said Hollie. She crossed her arms in front of her chest.
"All right." Her mother chewed her lip., and sat down. She patted the ground next to her. "I'm going to tell you a story, Hollie."
Hollie sat down.
"When I…when your father and I were married, I was very young. We had already been on the ship for a long time."
"Were you born on the ship too, mother? Like me?"
"No, Hollie. I was born on Earth. But I was only a little girl when my father joined the community. So I grew up on the ship, you see, and that's where I met your father."
Hollie nodded. She remembered the ship and the tiny rooms and the grey walls and the constant drone of the engines. She screwed up her face. "I do remember. I didn't like it. Eden is nicer." She looked up at the blue sky between the spindly branches.
"It is, much nicer." Mother smiled at her and stroked her hair back from her forehead. "Saint Dieter promised we would come to Eden, and we did. God kept his word. But we have to be careful, Hollie. God promised we would return to Eden, but we have to be watchful for sin. We don't want to be cast out again." Her mother pulled her close.
"When you were a very little girl, Hollie, I thought I saw an angel."
"What did it look like?"
Her mother laughed. "It looked like a winged shape, trying to get in. I was coming home late and the corridors were dim. I saw some light reflected on the porthole at the end of the corridor. I ran to Pastor Dean and told him I had seen an angel."
"What did he say?"
"He was very good about it. He came with me to the place, but of course, there was nothing there. Lots of people came running, hoping to see an angel. Pastor Dean was very kind. He said it was probably a trick of the light."
Hollie pulled back and looked up at her mother. "I don't remember this."
"You were very little, Hollie. And no-one spoke of it again."
"So it wasn't an angel?"
Her mother stroked her hair. "I thought it was, Hollie, because I desperately wanted it to be. It was a scary time for me, for all of us. Saint Dieter was very ill. He hadn't been seen in public for many months. So you see, we were all afraid, scared that he would leave us and we would never find Eden." She pulled Hollie back against her chest.
"I was praying as I walked, asking God to keep his promise and let my little girl grow up safe on Eden. I had my head down and I was praying as hard as I knew how. Then I looked up, just as a light flashed across the glass."
"Maybe it was and angel, mother! Maybe God was telling you it would be all right. Because we did get to Eden." Hollie felt her mother's laugh bubble up and her chest rise and fall as she sighed.
"That's what I thought, Hollie. I said it was a sign. But Pastor Dean took me back to his room and spoke to me. He explained that it was only a trick of the light, that we were all scared and we had to trust in God. He told me that angels don't appear on a whim; when they come they come for God's purpose."
"But how do you know it didn't come to make you feel better?"
"Because only Saints can see them Hollie; special, holy people. Angels don't come to visit people like us. Angels are guides; they come to holy men and show them the way, as they did to the wise men when they guided them to the birth of Jesus. I made a mistake, because I needed solace, I needed comfort. Do you understand what I'm saying, Hollie?"
Hollie chewed on her lip. "You're saying that I didn't see an angel?"
Her mother wrapped her arms around Hollie and hugged her. "I knew you would understand Hollie." She brushed the hair back from Hollie's forehead and kissed her. "Come on. Your father and Pastor Dean will be wondering where we are."
Hollie stood up and followed her mother home. She glanced back over her shoulder, hoping that an angel would appear, so she could show her mother what she had seen, that it was real.
---
As they stepped into the kitchen, Hollie could hear her father and Pastor Dean talking in the living room. Her father's voice was raised, which surprised her. Father never raised his voice. Her mother looked worried and put the bowl of mushrooms down on the table. She handed Hollie a tray.
"Hollie, take this in to your father, then come and help me with dinner."
Hollie carried the tray of food and drink into the living room. Pastor Dean was sitting in a chair, leaning forward as if he was about to speak. Her father was pacing the room, waving his hands. Pastor Dean noticed her and smiled.
"Hello, Hollie. Your mother was looking for you."
"Yes, Pastor, I know." She put the tray down on the rough table. Her father came over and ruffled her hair. "Thanks, Sprout." He offered Pastor Dean a drink as Hollie walked back into the kitchen.
Hollie's mother gave her a task and she sat at the kitchen table. She could hear her father and the pastor talking in the next room.
"And this is Saint Dieter's solution? More prayer?"
"We must…we must allow ourselves to be guided by him, John."
Her father snorted. "Blindly led. He hasn't left his bed for months, Matt. He has no idea of our needs."
"He is God's voice."
"He's just a man!" her father snapped.
There was silence for a moment, then Pastor Dean's voice. "If we do not follow him, all that we have done has been for nothing."
"We have followed him. He led us to Eden. But to close our eyes, to think that inaction and prayer will be enough…Matt, our crops are dying. The grubs infest the soil. As fast as we remove them, there are more. Bad enough that we cannot work when the mists rise. We need to study them, find out why, we need to find a way to keep the grubs out of the crops! We have to find out where they come from, and stop them, or we will be eating roots and fungus."
"If we pray-"
"Oh come on, Matt!" Her father sounded angry and Hollie paused in what she was doing. "Dieter thinks that God is going to drop everything in our laps. It was enough of a struggle to get him to accept pre-fab wooden buildings! Wooden, for heaven's sake!"
"Dieter sees that machines encourage us to laziness and-"
"Not all machines are bad, Matt! And it's not just machines. He disparages knowledge! Where are the teachings? Will our children grow ignorant of all learning other than that of God?"
"Dieter believes a simple life-"
"Oh, it will be simple all right! When we're reduced to barbarism and foraging because we cannot maintain a structured society!" There was silence for along time before her father spoke again. "Change is not evil, Matt."
"But what of the direction of that change? What if it leads us away from God?" She heard a chair scrape back. "I will think on what you have said, John. But people are scared. They need something to hang on to."
Hollie looked up as Pastor Dean appeared in the doorway. He nodded to her and her mother.
"Good day, Maggie."
"Won't you stay to dinner, Pastor?"
"Not today. Thank you."
Hollie's father sighed as her sat down beside her. Her mother turned to him. "Why must you always fight with the pastor?"
"We weren't fighting. We were having a discussion."
"You were disparaging Saint Dieter's teachings!"
I was trying to convince Matt to use his common sense!"
"God will show us the way," said her mother firmly, and turned back to the sink.
Her father sighed. "I'm going to check on Bessie." He rose and walked out the door. Hollie sat quietly and watched her mother's angry movements. Eventually her mother turned to her. "Finish that bowl, Hollie. Oh, you have." She took the bowl from her. Daniel appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes, hair sticking up at odd angles. "Brush Daniel's hair and take him outside for a while, so I can finish dinner."
Hollie dragged the brush through Daniel's tangled mop, regardless of his complaints. She helped him on with his shoes and took him outside.
The cleared area behind the house was bare of plants except for the occasional straggling piece if green. Daniel ran immediately to the edge of the wood and Hollie wandered after him.
"Hollie!" called her mother.
Hollie turned. "Yes?"
"Don't get lost again. Stay near the house, all right?"
"Yes, mother." When her mother went back in the house, she sighed. She had been planning to look through the forest again for another angel.
Daniel was scuffling through the leaves at the edge of the wood.
Hollie walked up to him. "What are you doing?"
"Looking for poppers!" he said.
His fruitless search led him further into the wood. He picked up a stick and dug through every bump in the soil that he came across. Hollie followed him, preoccupied by her own thoughts. What were the blobs in the dome? What was the sticky stuff? She hesitated for a moment. The domes had shown her that the angels moved through the mist, and the mist represented safety to them. Why wasn't it safe for the colonists?
"Hollie!"
She jumped. Daniel was digging frantically in the soil. "Look!" He held up a popper for her inspection. But the popper wasn't milky white; it was a darker, ugly grey. Daniel squeezed it.
"Wait, Daniel-" She hurried towards him. Maybe it was rotten.
As she approached the popper burst in Daniel's hand and a fat, green grub covered in ooze fell to the ground with a heavy splat. Daniel shrieked. "Yucky grub!" he shouted, and stamped on the wriggling body with his boot.
An angel flashed out of the wood and landed on Daniel's face. He cried out and fell. Hollie rushed forward as the angel zoomed off again.
Daniel was holding his cheek and crying. She tried to take his hands away but he sobbed that it hurt. Finally she gave up and urged him back to the house. "Mother will make it all better. Come on, Daniel."
Daniel followed her but soon began to stagger. His head nodded and his arms fell to his side. Hollie saw the little red mark on his cheek. "Come on, Daniel, come on," she said. Daniel took another step and fell. Hollie kneeled beside him and shook him. "Daniel, Daniel!" But he didn't answer her. Hollie jumped up ran towards the house, crying out for her mother.
Her mother came to the door, wiping her hands on her apron. "Hollie, what is it? What's wrong?"
"It's Daniel," she sobbed, "he's fallen down. He's not moving."
"Where, where?" her Mother cried.
Hollie grabbed her mother's hand and ran back into the woods to where Daniel's body lay.
Her mother cried out when she saw him and fell to her knees by his side. "What happened? she demanded.
"An angel bit him," she sobbed.
Her mother turned and slapped her. Hollie stopped crying, shocked at the unexpected pain.
"Hollie! I want to know, what happened?"
"It bit…he bit Daniel…it was…" Hollie stammered.
Her mother made an angry sound as she picked up Daniel. She brushed past Hollie. "Get your father now!" she snapped.
Hollie ran for the barn, her vision blurred with tears. She burst through the door. "Dad," she choked, "Daddy!"
Her father came out of one of the stalls and knelt down before her. "Hey Sprout, what's wrong? Don't cry."
"Daniel got bitten and fell down and he's not moving," she sobbed, "and I told mummy it was an angel but she doesn't believe me. He popped a popper and a grub came out and the angel bit him."
Her father stared at her for a moment with his mouth open and then ran for the house. Hollie sank down onto the straw and cried. She didn't know what to do. An angel had bit him and he fell down. Her mother didn't believe her.
She didn't know how much later it was when she heard quick steps outside. She looked up through her tears as her father walked in the door.
"Sprout, come here," he said, beckoning to her. She struggled to her feet and ran towards him. He crouched down in front of her. "Tell me about the angel."
Hollie told him about the grub coming out of the popper, and the angel landing on Daniel.
"Why did you call it an angel?"
She told him about finding the angel in the morning, and the song, and the dancing and the dome with the squirts. He looked at her for a long time.
"That's a big story, Sprout," he said.
Hollie began to cry again. "You don't believe me either. I'm not lying, I'm not."
He hushed her and pulled her to his chest. "I know you believe what you're saying, Sprout. And I want to know more." He pulled back and looked down at her. "I can't leave your mother just now, so will you do something for me?"
Hollie nodded, and sniffled. Her father used the tail of his shirt to wipe the tears from her face.
"I want you to run to the church and get Pastor Dean for me. Will you do that? You must MAKE him come, Hollie. Tell him it's very urgent."
She nodded again. "Is Daniel going to be all right?"
"I don't know, but I hope so. He's got the mist sickness, Hollie, the same as Bessie, the same as Mr Jones. And I think you may have found an answer. Now, run! Don't stop."
He gave her a little push and she ran out the door and towards the road that led to the church. She ran as hard as she could. People called out to her but she didn't stop or acknowledge them. She ran up the stairs and into the church, crying out for Pastor Dean.
Miss Wilson, who looked after Saint Dieter, looked surprised at her sudden entrance. "I need- Pastor Dean- Father wants him-"
"Pastor Dean is with Saint Dieter, Hollie. He can't see you now. Is there anything-" Hollie didn't hear the end of her sentence. She ran out of the church and back down the steps.
"Hollie! Hollie, wait!" Miss Wilson called out to her. Hollie didn't stop, until she heard a cry of pain. She looked back. Miss Wilson was waving her arms at an angel that hovered over her. The angel dived and Miss Wilson put her hands to her face with a cry. She stumbled to the rail and fell.
Hollie heard shouts and screams and turned. People were running in all directions. Angels were zooming out of the wood and between the buildings, diving on the colonists. She saw many get stung. An angel came buzzing towards her and she shrieked and ducked, pelting towards Saint Dieter's house.
As she approached, Pastor Dean emerged, drawn by the commotion. He ran down the steps past Hollie. Hollie tried to grab his trouser leg but he was too quick for her.
Men were banding together, fighting off the angels with shovels. One man ran outside with a burning stick and thrust it at an angel. The angel fell from the air and flopped about on the ground. The other angels congregated around him and he screamed and staggered backwards, the brand waving wildly. He ran down the street, pursued by a flock of diving angels.
"Into the church!" cried Pastor Dean. Colonists grabbed children and ran past Hollie. She struggled to reach Pastor Dean. Someone grabbed her arm and she was borne up the steps and into the church. She pushed her way forward to where Pastor Dean was speaking urgently with some of the men.
"Pastor!" she cried, tugging on his trousers.
He put a hand briefly on her head. "Not now, Hollie."
"Pastor, Dad says you must come, it's urgent!" But no-one heard her over the din. They weren't listening. She tugged on his trousers again.
"Please, Hollie, not now!"
"But you have to come! Dad said!"
Pastor Dean looked down at her. "Hollie, we're being attacked. It's not safe outside. Now go and help with the injured." He gave her a little push.
Hollie stumbled away. Around her, those who had been stung were sinking into unconsciousness. Everywhere she looked someone was crying. What if they were attacking at home?
Hollie ran for the door and pulled it open. Someone shrieked at her but she didn't stop. She ran down the stairs and into the village. She saw a face at a window as she passed and smelled smoke on the air. She ran down the road towards home.
As she rounded the corner of her house, she saw a group of angels rise from the body of her mother.
"No!" she cried, and ran towards her. She fell to her knees, sobbing. The angels zoomed towards her. She felt one land in her hair. She curled into a ball, waiting for the sting.
But the angel in her hair rose into the air again without stinging her. She looked up. It rose to join its fellows and rubbed its legs on its body with a zithering noise. The angels flew off.
Hollie touched her hair, wondering. Her fingers encountered a sticky patch. The squirts! She pushed herself to her feet. The sun was low in the sky. How far was it to the dome?
She ran into the woods, following the path she had made that morning collecting mushrooms. The long shadows made everything look strange. She pushed on, her legs aching and her breath ragged. How far had she gone? She had found the angel, then danced. How long? How far? She pushed on. Was it here? No, there was no sticky-plant. Was it here? She glanced around every clearing, looking for a familiar landmark.
Eventually she felt a low vibration in the ground. It must be near! She struggled onwards. She almost fell out of the woods into the clearing and saw the dome before her.
She dived into the opening she had entered that morning. An angel flew down the tunnel, buzzing at her.
"I have to see the squirts!" she said. The angel hovered, then retreated and she crawled rapidly down the tunnel.
For the second time she fell into the soft leaves at the end of the tunnel. Immediately she was covered in angels, their prickly feet all over her. She cried out and tried to bat them off. They hovered above her, buzzing.
"Stop!" she cried, "please stop!" The angels rose and she saw each of them land on a squirt. The squirts were pulsating and as she watched, an opening appeared in the back of a squirt, and out came a smooth, glistening popper. The popper was caught by the angels and tucked into a flap of skin on the angel's legs.
Hollie got to her knees. "Please," she said, "we didn't know. We didn't know. We didn't mean to eat them." Angels and squirts ignored her. "We didn't know about the grubs, either." She hugged herself, remembering how many grubs had died. "We need to eat. We need the crops. Won't you understand?"
Angels were zooming out now, pouches full of eggs. The pulsating flashes of the squirts slowed. When all the angels were gone, Hollie stood and tried again.
"We're sorry about your eggs. We didn't know."
One of the squirts shot a stream of warm liquid at her, and she felt anger. Other squirted joined and she felt the anger build. Death. So many offspring lost. Destruction. Invaders.
"Please, we didn't know. We didn't mean to!" The squirting increased. Leave. Go. You are no longer welcome here. Killers.
"We have nowhere to go!" she cried. The tears ran down her cheeks. "This is all we have. We came here to be safe." She cried, thinking of her mother and Daniel, sick with the mist-sickness, of all the people lying in the dirt. Would they die?
An angel flew in and hovered before her. She felt its claws pat her face where the tears fell. It zoomed to one of the squirts and rubbed her tears over one of the protuberances. The squirt pulsated, flashing rapidly. Other squirts began to flash.
"Please," said Hollie, through her tears," please let us live here."
More liquid rained down. Hollie put up her hands and the liquid covered her fingers. You may stay. Safety. Peace. But you will not kill the eggs. You will not kill the grubs. Go.
Blindly Hollie got to her feet and stumbled to the tunnel. Her head was swimming. Donotkilltheeggsdonotkillthegrubspeace. Peace.
Outside was darkness. An angel flew before her and she followed it, stumbling over sticks and rocks. Everything was blurred and the thoughts of the squirts filled her mind. The liquid cooled rapidly in the night air to a tacky mess.
The moon rose slowly as she walked behind the angel. Trees blurred and took on strange shapes as she passed.
The ground beneath her feet was rolling and she couldn't seem to focus on anything. Light shone through the trees ahead of her and she stumbled out of the woods near the church. The church was the only building of the town not ablaze. The smoke made strange patterns in the cold still air, roiling into shapeless faces. The villagers were gathered in front of the church, fighting off the angels with flaming brands.
The angel rose, and sang. Hollie raised her arms. The angels attacking the villagers rose, and also began to sing. They came in the hundreds, to land on her arms and her hair and taste the sticky fluid of the squirts. Someone called her name. The angels rose and sang and danced above her on the air and she stumbled forward. She saw a face, distorted and wild with holes for eyes. She cried out and stumbled backwards.
"Hollie! Hollie, are you all right?" She blinked and saw it was Pastor Dean who kneeled beside her.
"You may stay. There will be peace. You must not kill the eggs. You must not kill the grubs. Peace." Her voice faltered and stopped. What was she saying? She looked up. The angels were zooming back in the direction of the dome. She wanted to ask them, will her mother be all right? Daniel? But her eyes closed and she lost consciousness.
---
She woke up and it was light and her father was bending over her. He smiled at her. "How are you feeling, Sprout?"
"Daddy!" she threw her arms around his neck and he hugged her. She pushed back. "Are Mother and Daniel all right?"
"They will be. They're being looked after. Everything is going to be all right."
"Daddy, the grubs, the poppers, they belong to the angels. We're not allowed to kill them anymore."
"I know, sprout." He pointed to a sticky patch on his arm. "I've been talking with your squirts this morning. We've come to an agreement, of sorts. They aren't going to lay their eggs in our fields anymore, and they won't sting us in the mists."
Pastor Dean approached and smiled at her. "And how are you this afternoon, Hollie?"
"I'm all right, thank you."
"You gave me a very big fright last night."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."
"That's all right, Hollie," he said. "You've saved us in more ways than one. You and your 'angels'."
"So wouldn't you say, Matt, that finding out "why" is better than inaction and prayer?" said her father.
"What I say, John, is that God has tested us and we have passed. We found the peaceful solution. And we were led by a child."
Her father laughed. "Saint Hollie!"
Hollie blushed crimson. "Dad! That's not funny."
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