“Not since the beginning,” the Messenger reminded.
The Caretaker straightened his glasses and demanded, “Which beginning? There have been many.”
Milo chuckled. “You were newly arrived, and Jedrick was newly appointed.”
Fluttering his fingers at the little manna-makers vying for his attention, Abner murmured, “Full circle? Perhaps, perhaps… .”
Padgett cleared his throat and interjected, “Morning and evening for a fortnight. Find me whenever you’re ready, and I’ll open the way.”
Milo nodded amiably. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
Prissie fiddled with the tassels of her new scarf, trying to get them to lay right against her shoulder. The fussy accessory and its matching hat were early Christmas presents from Grammie Esme, who loved indulging her grandchildren. The set was more for looks than warmth, but Prissie adored the pearlescent sheen given off by their hundreds of tiny sequins. She’d dressed with care, but not for the boys from Zeke’s Sunday school class who’d be arriving soon. Their teacher still had a way of making Prissie want to look her best, like a habit she couldn’t quite break.
Giving her hair a fidgety pat, she sat with a flounce of heavy skirts on one of the makeshift benches beside their duck pond. Milo had approached the Pomeroys about bringing his third- and fourth-grade boys over on a Sunday afternoon for a rowdy sort of Christmas party. Dad had readily agreed, and Momma had offered to supply cookies and cocoa for everyone afterward.
The weather was perfect—overcast and not too cold, with the occasional drift of snowflakes in the air. Prissie took a deep breath and released it in a puff of warm mist. Today promised to be fun, and she could hardly wait for it all to begin.
Koji was reshoveling the path down from the barn while Neil gave the ice a final sweep. The hourglass-shaped pond with its red footbridge made a pretty setting for skating parties, not that they’d hosted one in quite some time. All of the older Pomeroys’ friends had outgrown their skates and moved on to other things. Tad had long ago given up on skating, but Neil still liked it well enough. He skimmed around the edges of the pond with ease, gliding in a wide figure-eight as he inspected his handiwork.
Just then, Milo’s voice hailed them from the gate up by the barn, and Prissie’s stomach flip-flopped. No matter how many times she told herself that things were different, her heart insisted that the mailman was special. She cared about him in much the same way she cared about Koji. But these feelings were stronger, and it was hard to know what to do with them.
“Hey, Neil!” Milo called, strolling right to the edge of the ice. Prissie’s brother zipped over and swooshed to a stop. A minute later, Neil was beaming under the mailman’s compliments. Milo then ambled over and joined Prissie on the bench. “Hey, Miss Priscilla. I appreciate your willingness to lend a hand with the boys today.”
“I don’t mind helping,” she replied, trying to hide her sudden bout of awkwardness.
He nodded and unslung the skates hanging from one shoulder by their laces, ready to trade his boots for blades. “I heard back from everyone, and it sounds like the whole class will be here.”
“How many?”
“Eight, counting Zeke.”
Relaxing some, Prissie remarked, “It’s a small pond, but it’s perfect for little kids. Zeke’s really excited.”
“Nearly as excited as Koji,” Milo said with a chuckle. Nodding toward the ice, he inquired, “Have you already given it a go?”
“Nooo,” she slowly admitted. “I was waiting.”
“Take a turn with me?” he invited, standing and offering his hand like a gentleman.
A sudden sense of déjà vu swamped Prissie, for Adin had done the same thing when he’d tried to coax her out the back door of the bakery. He’d made her feel special, but news of his attention had been enough to make Tamaes shake and Koji beg her not to stray. If she’d taken the enemy’s hand, something awful might have happened.
“No?” the Messenger asked, ready to withdraw his offer.
“Yes, please,” she hastily agreed, allowing him to help her up. “You know, you’re nothing like Adin.”
His eyes widened for a moment, but then Milo smiled. “I’m glad to hear that, Miss Priscilla, but what brought him to mind?”
She hoped the cold was a good enough excuse for the color creeping into her cheeks. “He wanted me to take his hand.”
“But you didn’t,” the mailman countered, tucking her arm through his and striking out across the pond.
“But … I wanted to,” she confessed quietly.
“Adin is especially dangerous because he’s taken a personal interest in us,” Milo replied seriously. He gave her mittened hand a pat. “It’s astonishing that he got as close as he did, but don’t be afraid. No matter what the future holds, we’re with you.”
They skated in silence for a few moments before Prissie said, “You’re really good at this.”
“Next best thing to flying,” he replied with a wink.
“Oh! Is that why it comes so easily for you?” She was impressed with how confidently he skated, and it didn’t take long for her to match his rhythm.
“No, I had to learn the hard way, just like anyone else. There’s a rink down in Harper where Baird likes to take the youth, and I often join them.” He guided her through a wide figure-eight before adding, “We’ll need to help Koji along. I don’t think he has any idea how difficult this is.”
Prissie glanced at the benches where Neil was helping the young Observer lace into a pair of hand-me-down skates. While she watched, Koji stood and stepped cautiously out onto the ice, then sat down hard. With a giggle at his surprised expression, Prissie called, “Wait for me, Koji!” Milo released her so she could rush to her friend’s side. “Are you okay?”
“I am unharmed,” Koji assured. “However, I may require assistance.”
Prissie offered her hands. “I’ll help.”
“Thank you,” he replied earnestly, allowing her to haul him back to his feet. Immediately losing his balance, he windmilled his arms, then flung them around her waist. “This is much more difficult than it appears.”
“It gets easier. You just need a little practice,” she promised, bracing herself as Koji cautiously straightened. “Come on.”
Prissie gripped his arms near his elbows, and he locked his fingers around her forearms, leaning forward as she skated backward, pulling him along. He wobbled badly, but his eyes sparkled with excitement. “You are skilled,” he said breathlessly.
“Not really.” She was pleased to have impressed him, but she hardly considered skating backward as skilled, especially since it was the extent of her abilities. Prissie actually thought he was the admirable one, for Koji threw himself into all these new experiences with wholehearted enthusiasm. He was an Observer, but watching wasn’t enough for him; he treated these opportunities like precious things that shouldn’t be wasted. “That’s the way,” she encouraged.
His brows drew together in concentration. “I do not know what to do.”
“Just follow my lead.”
“You are going backward, so I cannot emulate you.”
“Oh … good point,” she conceded, then warned, “I’m going to let go for a second.” With a quick swish and turn, Prissie came alongside her friend, linking arms as they made a clumsy circuit of one half of the pond. Koji’s jaw had a determined set to it, and he was catching on, perhaps because he wasn’t afraid to fall. “Some of the boys who are coming today will be just starting out too.”
“Will you teach them as well?” he asked.
“That’s one of the reasons Neil and I are here,” she explained. “Milo wants everyone to have fun, even the beginners.”
Neil zipped by. He’d always loved going fast, so whenever he was on the pond, it became a speed-skating track. Prissie tsk-ed as Neil whipped past, bending low in order to clear the bridge and shooting through to the other side. “Hopefully, he and Zeke will be the only daredevils in the bu
nch. Otherwise, it’s going to get a little crazy around here.”
“Hey, Koji,” greeted Milo as he meandered over in a series of graceful curlicues. “Have you found your feet?”
“Indeed, no,” the Observer promptly replied. “I cannot do this on my own.”
“Then it’s a good thing that Miss Priscilla and I are here!” he exclaimed, slipping his arm through his teammate’s. Quirking his brows at Prissie, he inquired, “Shall we give him a foretaste of ice skating glories?”
“Is that okay?” She gave Koji a worried look.
“Yes!” Koji begged. “Please?”
Milo exclaimed, “Ice skating is like flying with your feet on the ground!”
Again and again, they circled the near side of the pond with their student skater braced between them. Koji gradually lost his wobble, but he never progressed beyond a sort of shuffle. At the young Observer’s urging, they picked up the pace, and on the count of three, ducked under the red footbridge.
They dug in to go faster, and Milo changed direction so often, their skating became a crazy dance. Koji tipped his face skyward and closed his eyes, clearly enjoying the feel of wind against his skin, and Prissie was almost positive that she could feel the brush of invisible wings as they wheeled and whirled across the ice.
Milo squeezed her shoulder to get her attention. “Let me try something?”
Nodding, she broke away from the two and skated to the edge where Neil watched with a half-smile on his face. “Grandpa’s right,” he said, jostling her with his elbow. “That kid knows how to enjoy life.”
She nodded in agreement, watching curiously as Milo pocketed his gloves. Assured of a better grip, he and Koji grasped each other’s wrists, and after a couple of quiet words, the Messenger began to spin. The whirl gained speed until Koji’s feet lifted off the ground, with Milo anchoring him. Prissie chewed her lip worriedly, but everything seemed to be under control. In fact, the young Observer was so happy, he almost seemed to glow.
“Hoo boy,” Neil said as he cast a quick look in the direction of the house. “If Zeke catches sight of that little move, Milo’s gonna spend all afternoon spinning in circles.”
Prissie was about to agree when an unexpected sound robbed her of words. From the midst of the whirlwind, a burble of excitement changed into rolling laughter. “Oooh,” she breathed. Strange as it seemed, now that she thought about it, she’d never heard Koji laugh before.
Neil chuckled right along with him, but Prissie simply watched in amazement. She’d always loved Koji’s rare smiles, and this was something she wanted to remember forever. Her own smile developed a wobble, for she sort of wished she’d been part of the reason her serious-natured friend couldn’t contain his joy. Holding onto his and Milo’s secret made her feel closer to them, but she longed for more. Mostly, she wanted to matter to them as much as they mattered to her.
Later that evening, Prissie and Koji sat on opposite sides of her bedroom working on homework. The door was propped open, but so far, her brothers hadn’t made pests of themselves. Since it was chilly upstairs, she had an extra pair of socks on her feet and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, but Koji barely noticed that the furnace didn’t do a very good job of reaching Prissie’s little sanctuary.
Closing her history book with a snap, she dropped it atop the pile of textbooks on the bed, and Koji glanced up. “Have you retained the records we were assigned?”
She tapped the eraser of her pencil against the notes she’d made. “Mostly. I’ll review on the way to school tomorrow.”
He nodded and went back to reading, even though he was several chapters ahead of the class in their textbook. Giving the end of her braid a little tug, she asked, “Did you have fun today?”
Koji looked up again, and this time, he let his book fall shut. “Indeed.”
“I could tell. And I think Neil would have liked to try that spinning thing Milo did with you … if it was physically possible.”
“Milo is the fastest in our Flight, but he is not the strongest,” Koji replied seriously. The young Observer’s gaze took on a faraway quality before he blinked and focused on her again. “May I invite Tamaes to join us?”
Prissie looked pointedly toward the open door and lowered her voice. “We’ll have to be careful what we say. My brothers sometimes snoop.”
He nodded. “I will choose my words with care.”
“Then yes, I’d like that.” It felt like a long time since she’d last seen Tamaes, and the prospect was a nice one. “Is he close by?”
Koji simply pointed to the roof, and she stared up at the plain, white ceiling. “How does he get in?” she wondered. “He came through the bedroom door last time.”
“At that time, Tamaes was already inside.”
“So can he walk through walls or something?”
“No,” Koji replied, frowning slightly. “He will enter through the way that has been prepared.”
“There’s no blue door in here,” Prissie pointed out.
“The way between is given whenever we are Sent. I do not know how else to explain it.”
“Maybe you should just show me.”
“Tamaes will do so.” His gaze swiveled upward.
A moment later, a circular patch on the ceiling rippled faintly, and with a sudden rush, a familiar figure dropped into the room. Tamaes landed in a crouch in the center of her braided rug and swiftly scanned every corner of the room before bashfully meeting her gaze. “Good evening, Prissie,” he greeted in low tones.
“Hi,” she returned in a soft voice, just in case anyone was in the hallway. “Is everything okay?”
The big warrior hesitated, then admitted, “That is a difficult question to answer. You are safe, and for that I am grateful.”
”Tonight isn’t a quiet night, is it?” she asked with a glance out the window.
“No,” he replied solemnly. “However, there is no cause for you to fear.”
Pulling her blanket more closely around her shoulders, Prissie said, “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I am never far,” Tamaes pointed out.
Prissie understood that even though the battle was invisible, it was real and fierce, so she felt as though she was keeping her Guardian safe by keeping him close. She supposed that it was actually the other way around, but for the moment, it was reassuring to have Tamaes where she could see him. “Make yourself at home,” she ventured.
“Thank you,” he replied, undoing the clasp that held his sword in place between his shoulder blades. Without another word, he chose a seat on the floor below her window, stretching out his long legs and placing his sheathed weapon within easy reach.
She and Koji both turned slightly to include Tamaes, but there wasn’t much else they could do with her whole family still up and about. In fact, Zeke chased Jude past the door, roaring like a mad beast while his little brother shrieked with laughter. Prissie frowned disapprovingly before whispering, “Do you want a book or something?”
“There is no need,” Tamaes assured.
Staring in disbelief as her Guardian simply folded his hands in his lap and stared back, she quizzed, “Don’t you get bored?”
This time, the big warrior seemed puzzled. But Koji leapt in to explain, “He cannot be bored if you are near.”
“Me?”
“You are his occupation.” Leaning closer, he gravely confided, “Abner calls you his preoccupation.”
Tamaes made a small noise of protest. “I am a Guardian.”
Prissie was amazed that both angels apparently thought this a satisfactory explanation. “But it’ll be awkward if he just sits there staring at me,” she argued. “He should do something other than twiddle his thumbs!”
The warrior glanced uncertainly between her and his thumbs. “What do you suggest?”
“Well …” She cast about for a suitable response. “I doubt you can help us study.”
“There is an assignment he can assist you with,” Koji said.
She tapped the textbooks. “I’m pretty much done for tonight.”
“Have you forgotten the reading Pastor Ruggles encouraged us to do on Sunday?”
Prissie blinked, thinking hard. “I guess so. What are you talking about?”
“In preparation for Christmas, he encouraged everyone to review those Scripture passages that foretold the coming of Messiah,” Koji reminded. “Have you done so?”
“Nooo,” she grudgingly admitted. “I figured it was optional.”
The young Observer spread his hands wide. “And you now have the option to complete the assignment. Tamaes will speak the words.”
Her Guardian inclined his head, indicating his willingness to go along with the plan.
“Well, I suppose that’s fine. My Bible’s right over there.” A thought occurred to her, and she tentatively asked, “Can you read any language like Milo?”
“No, but there is no need. The words are here,” Tamaes explained, placing his hand upon his chest.
“You know them by heart?”
“I do.”
Prissie shook her head incredulously. “Are you trying to tell me that you have the whole Bible memorized?”
With a faint smile, Tamaes replied, “It is pleasant to dwell upon the words of God.”
“Go on,” Koji urged.
So the soft-spoken angel spoke at length, his voice filled with reverent authority as he recited entire passages from the psalms and the prophets. Prissie settled back against her pillows, somewhat awed, for the familiar words sounded different when spoken aloud and with such conviction.
If either angel thought it strange that all Prissie did was sit there, staring at Tamaes while slowly twiddling her thumbs, they did not mention it.
8
THE FINAL
REHEARSAL
In a room where every wall and door was painted a different color, strands of rainbow-hued Christmas lights were tacked up along the ceiling. Baird sat cross-legged in the middle of a pile of beanbag chairs, humming as he moved his fingers across the frets of his blue guitar. He glanced up as the door opened, and Milo rapped on its frame. “You haven’t eaten today,” the Messenger scolded.
The Broken Window Page 7
