She started to speak, but he put his finger to his lips. He stood with a movement as fluid as a cat and held his hand out to her. Puzzled, she took it. He pulled her to her feet and led her from the house, smiling enigmatically.
He took her in a run across the grass, his happiness so great she began to suspect what had happened. He stopped and positioned her in one spot, holding up his hand for her to stay. She looked at him in smiling bewilderment, feeling a tingling in her throat. He ran about ten feet from her and turned to face her. Grinning, he held out his arms toward her. She watched him expectantly.
The grass between them suddenly began moving as if blown by a wind, but there was no wind. The grass rustled and sighed. Evelyn looked from the ground to Angel, her eyes glistening with excitement. The rustling in the grass changed subtly. It sighed and whispered dusty words.
“Evie. Evie,” it said.
Evelyn stared at him in wonderment. He smiled proudly and shyly. He walked slowly to her, the vagueness and vulnerability missing from his eyes. He bent and plucked a blade of grass and held it between their faces. The blade began to vibrate rapidly, to make a whispery buzzing sound. The sound became words, dry sibilant words.
“Evie. Evie. I love you, Evie,” the blade sighed. His ruby eyes searched her face hesitantly, hopefully.
She couldn’t help herself; tears rose in her eyes and she sobbed happily. He looked startled and concerned. He dropped the blade of grass and put his arms around her. She fell into them, sobbing and laughing against his chest. He hugged her tightly to him, electricity in his veins.
“Evie,” the voice said, not the papery voice of the blade of grass, but a normal voice against her ear.
She jerked her head and put her hand to her ear. She looked at him in confusion.
“What did you do?”
He removed her hand from her ear and held it. “I’m talking, Evie, I’m talking.” But his lips did not move.
She cocked her head as if puzzled by the source of the sound. “I hear a voice in my ear. What are you doing?” she whispered.
“I’m vibrating your eardrum, as if it were being struck by sound waves,” the voice said. She knew his voice would sound that way: soft and gentle and loving.
“Angel!” she said, laughing and rubbing her damp face. “That’s wonderful!”
“Does it sound right?” he asked, a worried look on his face. “I practiced on myself, but I can’t be sure it sounds right on other people. I think if I worked at it some more, I could do both eardrums at the same time and make it sound like it was coming from me instead of someone sitting in your ear.”
“It sounds marvelous,” she said. She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a joyful kiss. Then they looked at each other soberly.
“Did you mean it?” she asked softly.
“Evie, Evie, I love you, I love you,” the voice sang in her ear. But she didn’t need the voice because his eyes spoke.
“I love you too, Angel,” she said in a whisper, surprising herself a little, but knowing it was true.
Angel looked into her face for a moment, his eyes as big as moons. Then he leaned his head forward and kissed her, his mouth as light as thistledown against hers. She felt his lips tremble. Then his arms tightened. His hunger devoured her. He wanted to merge their bodies into one, to envelop her with his skin.
He threw back his head and shook his hair like a horse. Evelyn gasped for breath and then laughed. The laugh became a startled shriek, quick and high. She clutched at him as they rose slowly into the air. He put his hands on either side of her face and brushed his lips against hers.
“Don’t be afraid, Evie. Never be afraid of me or what I can do,” the voice said softly and solemnly in her ear.
His eyes were reading her soul again. She nodded. He grinned broadly. He put his hands on her waist and tossed her higher. She shrieked again and then laughed.
“Give me a little warning!” she wailed and looked at the ground thirty feet below where she floated.
Angel laughed with her and at her and for her. He did a back flip and a loop-the-loop. He swam in the sunshine, circling her, loving her. He stood on his head above her and kissed her upside down. He took her hand and they sailed up and around and down like two swallows.
They heard Henry yelling at them and saw him frantically waving his arms. They floated down to him.
“I feel like Peter Pan,” Evelyn laughed.
“Angel!” Henry clapped his hands. “Angel!” Henry jumped up and down. “Angel!” Henry laughed. “You did it! You remembered! This is wonderful!”
Tim rode on Henry’s shoulder and desperately clutched his hair to keep from falling off, but a grin split his ugly little face.
“Once I managed to do one thing, it was all there.”
Henry looked bewildered and put his hand to his ear. “What happened?” he said.
“Angel can talk by vibrating your eardrum,” Evelyn explained with delight. “What did he say?”
“I think I can do two at once,” the voice said in both their ears.
“I’m sorry, Tim,” the voice said in all three ears.
Tim clapped his hand over his ear and grimaced. “Not so loud,” he complained.
They all laughed in a happy delirium. Henry hugged Angel, then hugged Evelyn, then hugged the post supporting the porch.
Angel took Evelyn’s hand and they ran toward the creek.
Henry started to run after them. “Angel!” he called. “Wait.”
“No, Henry,” Tim cautioned. “Let them be alone.”
Henry stopped and turned his face to the tiny man on his shoulder and frowned. “But what about Haverstock! He could find us at any minute. We have to be prepared for him.”
“It can wait a little while. I’ve never seen Angel like this. I’ve never seen him actually happy. I think Evie has more to do with it than learning how to use the gift. Let them enjoy each other for a while. Let him be happy before he has to battle for our lives.”
Tim watched the boy and girl bounding happily for a moment. “He might not win,” he said softly.
Angel flopped onto the sand in the shade of a cottonwood tree and lay sprawled on his back. Evelyn dropped beside him and grinned. He breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and squinted at the bright sky. His face was completely at peace. He ran his hand under his shirt and lazily scratched his stomach.
“I’m tired,” he said. “I just want to lie here and burrow in the sand and not move.”
“If you’re so exhausted from all that running, we could have flown,” she pointed out.
“That’s why I’m exhausted.” He cocked his eyes at her. “It may have seemed easy enough for you—you weren’t doing anything; I was doing all the work. That showy razzmatazz takes a lot out of you.”
“Well, quit showing off then.” She made a face and he grinned impudently at her.
“You sure have gotten cocky this morning,” she said, lifting her eyebrow. “I’m not sure I didn’t like you better before, when you were kinda lost and helpless and I could take care of you. I’m not sure you need me anymore. I’m not sure you need anybody anymore.”
He sat up and looked at her, his face serious and his eyes worried. “I need you,” the voice said in her ear. “The gift is just something I can do. I don’t know how I do it, or why I can do it. I don’t know why some people can sing and others can’t, or why some people can paint or write or compose music and other people can’t. I’m a very ignorant man; there are so many things I don’t know. I’m still lost and helpless and I want you to take care of me, and I want to take care of you. I need you to make sure I don’t get cocky, that I don’t let the gift take control of me. Last night when it came to me, I realized how easy it would be, how easy it would be to become like Haverstock, to feel that the gift made me special, above other people. You don’t know the exhilaration, the freedom of being able to do almost anything you want to do. You don’t know how easy it would be to feel like a god.”