The Blue Sky Boy

© 2013 David Jasmin-Green

“Who are you?” I said to the boy standing in the yard beyond the open door as I walked into my sitting room. It was an inane question, but I was shocked to see a stranger on my property and on the spur of the moment I couldn't think of anything more sensible to say.

“I'm the Blue Sky Boy, and I came from up above,” he said, staring at me brazenly with his impossibly blue eyes and pointing at the clear blue sky above his head. I could almost have believed him because his skin had a distinct bluish tinge where the pale winter sunlight kissed his face, almost as if it were a mirror reflecting the heavens, but the illusion evaporated as he stepped forwards into the shade of the big old cypress hugging the rear of the house.

I open the back door and the windows for a while every morning rain or shine while I feed our old pot bellied stove with logs and heat water for coffee in the kitchen; my wife sits in the back room before she goes to work smoking endless cigarettes, and when I get up the house reeks of her presence.

“It'll freeze the bollocks off a brass monkey out there, and you're dressed for a summer's day,” I said. “Get in here and sit by the fire before you catch your death, I'll close the door to warm the room up a little. Our nearest neighbours are the Jacksons a mile or so down the road, but they don't have any kids so I doubt if you came from there. Have you walked all the way from town, son? That's over ten miles! I'm phoning the police, your parents must be worried sick.”

“No,” the boy said softly but insistently as he warmed his hands by the fire. “I'm the Blue Sky Boy, and I come from the wonderful world above our heads. There's no point in calling the police, Mr. Reynolds, they're on their way here as we speak, but my visit will be a brief one and I'll be long gone by the time they arrive.”

“How did you get past Jester?” I said. “I'd love to know, because the old boy's as bright as a button despite his age and no one's ever managed to pull the wool over his eyes before - I know when the postman's coming before he even turns into my drive. Shit, I wish Angela would empty her damned ashtrays when she's through, these cigarette butts stink the entire house out.”

“The hound sleeps the deep sleep of death in his kennel,” the boy said, “but don't worry, he'll wake as soon as I leave. Relax, I mean you no harm.”

“What are you doing here, and what do you want? I don't know you from Adam, kid, I don't even know your name, but you know mine – that's a trifle unfair, don't you think?”

“My name is Aaron, and it's my duty to bring you bad tidings.”

“What do you mean by that? Has something happened to Angela, is that what you're trying to tell me?”

“I'm afraid so. Angela was involved in a serious accident on the main road to the city just a couple of hours back. Her vehicle was struck by a truck travelling in the opposite direction, it was pushed through the barrier into the river and she drowned before the emergency services could haul her out. I was there, Mr. Reynolds, it was my duty to suck her soul out through her nostrils like a silvery thread of gossamer, I spirited it away to heaven and left it in the Father's capable hands. I'm so sorry.....”

“You're sorry,” I said automatically, my legs turning to jelly as I half fell and half sat on the sofa. “My wife is dead, you dutifully delivered her soul to heaven and you've come to tell me you're sorry.”

“Yes, I'm deeply sorry. My heart bleeds for you, I have loved and lost just like you, believe me, but Angela has gone now and there's nothing we can do to bring her back. If it's any consolation she's up there with the angels smiling down on you, she's promised to watch over you until the Father says it's time for you to be reunited.”

“I see,” I said, sitting back and looking out of the open window at the impossibly blue sky and back at the boy's impossibly blue eyes. I gasped like a beached fish, taking in huge gulps of air, and I didn't see - my head was full of questions that I had no idea how to ask. “So what happens now? You said you'd be gone before the police arrived. Where are you going, back up there?”

“Yes, I'm going back now,” he said, gazing upwards beyond my whitewashed ceiling. “It's time for me to return home to my blessed family, they'll be wondering where I've gotten to.”

“It was nice meeting you, Aaron,” I said, nervously sipping my tepid coffee.

“I enjoyed meeting you too, Sir,” he said. “I'll see you in the great beyond at the foot of the Father's throne,” and then a gentle breeze whisked him out of the window, through the gently waving cypress branches and I never saw him again.

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