Free Heaven Eyes by David Almond Page A

dangling door in the rubble and litter below a broken roof. She stroked my face. My eyes stung, adjusting to the light. My head reeled.
    “What is this place?” I said.
    No answer.
    “What is it? Is it evil? Is it mad?”
    “What is you mouthing, Erin Law?”
    “What are you?” I whispered.
    “I is Heaven Eyes, my sister.”
    “What is Grampa?”
    “He is my grampa, my sister.”
    “What is this place?”
    “Is the place of Heaven Eyes and Grampa, my sister.”
    Birds sang and flapped through ruined rafters high above. Things sighed and slithered through the cellars below.
    “Is it life?” I said. “Or is it death?”
    She blinked, confused. She touched my face again.
    “What is you been thinking of deep down there, my sister?”
    She pushed a chocolate into my hand. I put it into my mouth and chewed.
    “Sweet,” I told her.
    “Sweetest thing of all.” She grinned. “Take more. Take more.”
    “What can I ask that you can answer?”
    She shrugged and smiled.
    “Ask nothing. Just chew the chocolate that is the sweetest thing of all.”
    “Why does Grampa want to kill us?”
    “Grampa is a good grampa. He will never never harm you.”
    I shook my head and laughed softly.
    “So what about the knife, Heaven Eyes?”
    “He did unmemory you.”
    “Unmemory?”
    “He did think you was ghosts or devils come to do shenanigans.”
    “He wanted to kill us, Heaven.”
    “Mebbe. So you must stay close with Heaven Eyes. You must never never be like ghosts. You must say Good Day, Grampa Caretaker. You must tell him that Heaven is loveliest of lovelies.”
    “What else?” I said.
    “Nothing else. And Grampa will be kind.”
    I laughed again.
    “Kind!”
    “Come see,” she said.
    I let her lead me by the hand toward the printing works. I kept turning toward the water, wanting to see Jan, but saw nothing. Then outside the office we saw him, lounging against a printing machine. I gasped with relief and spoke his name. He watched us coldly. I said his name again and he just shrugged. I ached to reach out to him. I ached for him to speak to me but he said nothing. I took a deep breath and let Heaven lead me into the office. The day was ending and the candles were burning. Grampa was scribbling in his great book. He munched at a slab of corned beef. His helmet was on the desk beside him.
    “See?” Heaven said. “Grampa is gentle now. He does unmemory many many things. He does write down many things an that is his memorying.”
    I looked at the great book. I watched his hand writingfuriously. I imagined the thousands upon thousands of words that he must have written in this room by candlelight.
    “He must have written much about you?” I said.
    “Many many much, Erin. Many many many much while Heaven Eyes eats chocolates and sleeps and has funny thoughts and funny sleep memories.”
    “Have you read his books, Heaven?”
    Her face crinkled.
    “Have you read the things he has written?”
    “He has writ that Heaven Eyes is loveliest of lovelies, Erin Law.”
    “But what else?”
    “Else nothing.”
    January cursed from the doorway. He came toward us.
    “She can’t bloody read,” he said. He glared at her. “So where’s all his books, then?”
    She chewed her lips.
    “Oh, Janry Carr, this is one thing that does angry him.”
    “What does?”
    “There is Grampa’s secrets, Janry Carr. No looking. No touching.”
    January gazed about the room.
    “Where are the secrets, Heaven Eyes?”
    I felt her hand tremble against my arm.
    “Tell Janry Carr he must be stopping now,” she whispered.
    January laughed.
    “Tell Janry Carr he must not be like them ghosts looking and searching.”
    “You hear?” I said to January.
    He hissed. He glared at me.
    Grampa turned his eyes toward us. They glittered in the candlelight. They softened as they fell upon Heaven. She smiled at him.
    “I does love you, Grampa,” she whispered.
    “Love,” he murmured and wrote. “Love, love, love. Heaven Eyes and Grampa.