"You...uh...me?" I asked. He nodded. "Okay..."
I stood and edged past Gwen and Lucas, then hesitated.
"Come up," Richard said. "They won't bite you."
Nervous laughter. I joined him near the altar.
"What are you doing?" I hissed at him.
"Christopher, as all of you know, has been something of an intimate of death, lately, isn't that so?" Richard said to the congregation. I blinked at him, uncertain whether I was insulted that he'd brought it up now or confused that he'd brought it up at all. "And Low Ferry respects your opinion, Christopher, as an educated man. I'd like you to have a look at these children and see what you think of them."
"I really don't..." I began, but he was already leading me inexorably towards the Harrison twins. Nona touched my hand as I passed.
I leaned over first one baby and then the other, trying to ignore their continued wails of discontent. They had feathery baby hair, dark eyes, wide mouths, snub noses, ears of regulation size. They were not especially beautiful babies, but they weren't disfigured or particularly ugly, either. They looked like babies to me. Unhappy babies, but that was all.
"They, uh, don't seem unusual to me," I said, loud enough for the rest of the congregation to hear. "I mean, Kirchner's looked at them, right? They look fine."
"Not familiar at all?" Richard asked.
"Familiar? I – no, of course not. I've never seen them before," I said. "They favor the Harrison side, though."
Steve gave me a strained smile.
"I mean, they're...you know, they're kids," I continued. Richard nodded encouragingly. "Just kids."
"Just kids," he repeated. "Thank you, Christopher. Would anyone else like to examine them? Make sure they have no horns, that sort of thing?"
Awkward silence from the congregation. Richard gave me a gentle shove back towards my seat.
"I am going to lead you all in prayer," he continued, as I slid past Lucas and Gwen. "And when we have finished, I hope you will stay to witness Abe and Noah Harrison being christened and welcomed into the church. Let us pray. Our Father, who art in heaven... "
As the villagers mumbled their way through the prayer, Richard trying to ignore the increased crying of the children, Lucas started to fidget next to Gwen. I reached behind her and clamped a hand on his neck, which startled him into stillness for a moment, but then he shrugged it off and began again. While the last rumbling Amen was dying away, he cleared his throat.
"Uh," he said, and every head turned to our pew. Next to me, Christopher gave a low ha! of approval.
"Yes, Lucas?" Richard asked. Lucas stood up.
"Can I look at them?" he asked.
Richard glanced at Nona. Lucas smiled uncertainly at her, and she nodded. He stepped out into the aisle and walked up to the altar, giving Richard a brief nod as he passed. He studied one of the babies for a long minute while everyone in Low Ferry, and probably most of the Friendly, held their breath.
"Your midwife," he said to the Harrisons. "She was an old woman. I think she was tired. I think it's a hard job."
There was an emphatic mm-hm from the congregation. Bertha's former assistant, now her replacement.
"I don't think there's anything wrong with them," Lucas continued. "And I believe in that kind of thing. Not like Christopher."
A ripple of nervous laughter was cut abruptly short when Lucas reached out and touched one of the children, pressing his broad, paint-spattered hand over the baby's chest. It wouldn't have been easy to see from any further back, but there was a look of thoughtful concentration on his face. The baby abruptly stopped crying, subsiding into gurgles. He reached out for the other one and took him from his uncle's arms, rocking him gently.
The silence when the baby stopped crying was sudden and surprising. Outside, the wind howled. He carried the baby to Nona, set him in her arms, gave her a reassuring smile, and stepped back.
"Excuse me," he said, and walked quickly down to the congregation, hurrying out through the same side-door that the Harrisons had come from. Gwen, I discovered, was gripping my hand tightly.
"Well," Richard said, staring at where Lucas had just disappeared into the maze of back-rooms behind the sanctuary. "God be with him."
Nobody was looking at Richard, though. They were all looking at me, as if I was somehow Lucas's keeper. Gwen silently scooted her legs to one side and gave me a significant look.
I stood up again and edged past her, then sort of sidled my way down to the altar and around to the side-door. As it closed behind me I heard Richard clear his throat and announce that it was time to christen the boys.
Lucas was leaning against the wall outside, both hands over his face, breathing deeply. I walked slowly, not wanting to startle him, and coughed to let him know I was there. He nodded, but he didn't look up or take his hands from his face.
"You okay?" I asked. Another nod, and I moved to stand in front of him. "I think that's the first time I've seen you talk to more than two people in an hour."
"Oh, my god," he mumbled, into his palms, but he laughed a little, too. "I won't be able to look anyone in the eye for a week."
He was trembling slightly, and I touched his arm for permission before pulling his hands down, holding his wrists between us.
"It's fine," I said. "That was really good, actually. Did you see the way they – "
"Looked at me? Yeah, I saw that," he said, chewing on his lip. "Did I say anything especially dumb?"
"Lucas," I said. "You know you really almost never say stupid things. No more than anyone else does."
"Not to you, maybe."
"You were great. Nobody's going to look at you funny, I promise."
He almost managed to make eye contact for a second before looking away and drawing another deep breath.
"Think about it," I said reasonably. "Remember when you were Fire Man? You weren't afraid of anyone then."
"I had my mask," he muttered. "That was different."
"Not so different. Anyway, they weren't looking at you just now, they were looking at the babies," I said. I wanted to ask how he'd done it, but he was in no kind of condition to answer, and I could wait. I let go of his wrists and he crossed his arms, tucking his hands under them.