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Colorado boonies? Guess so. Jeer caramba? Okay, fine then.
Max extended her index fingers, forcing her wings out to their fullest length.
Her wingspan was nearly half again as wide as she was tall.
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"Ooohh!"
Bailey shrank back toward his sister. His blue eyes were bigger than ever. He
was actually a little cutie, though.
"Are they real?" Elizabeth Ellers. finally got up the nerve to speak again.
"They look like it."
Max grinned. She knew she was trying to get the other kids to like her.
"Of course they're real."
"Do it," Bailey whispered. "Please do it. Fly for us."
Elizabeth held Max's eyes. She whispered, too, as if this were an outdoor
church or something. "We won't tell anybody. We promise."
The small boy nodded solemnly. Up and down, up and down, and then sideways. He
made a hurried sign of the cross where his heart was. "Cross my heart and hope
to die. Cross both our hearts. Please. Do it. Just do it."
"If I do, you can't tell. It's just between us," Max said. "And never cross
your heart and hope to die. It could happen."
"We won't tell," the boy said.
"If you do, I'll come get you."
"Are you a vampire or something?" Bailey asked. He looked nervous and afraid
again. His eyes crossed.
"Yeah, I'm a vampire. No, I'm not a vampire. Are you a little midget Martian?
Are you from Mars?"
Elizabeth finally laughed out loud and Max could have hugged her.
"You got that right. He's definitely from Mars. What's your name?"
"Oh... Tinkerbell."
They all shared a pretty good laugh. She wanted to show off, but she also
wanted to share something about herself. She loved to share, actually. She had
always been a good girl, thoughtful, kind to others. She believed that sharing
was essential to a good life. There was one absolutely true thing she'd
learned at the School: what goes around comes around.
Max saw that the path ahead of her was flat and free of rocks and roots.
She started to run.
It only took four or five steps before the air seemed to split around the
thick leading edges of her wings. The air currents lifted her, raised her
aloft.
"Jeer caramba!" she yelled, wondering if the kids got the humor?
She flew straight up - then dived at Bailey and Elizabeth. Instinctively they
ducked, and Max laughed hysterically. She loved to play with other kids. Loved
it more than anything.
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And she desperately, desperately wanted to tell them the secrets. Except if
she did, they would be in danger, too. Cross their hearts and hope to die.
Max beat her wings up and down, up and down. She was free-floating now!
She circled overhead, tracing the outline of a cloud. Softly banked left, then
right.
Down below, Elizabeth and Bailey Ellers watched in stunned silence.
They held both hands out over their eyes, staring up intently without
blinking.
Soon the kids were very small below her, but she could see their upturned
faces, their O-shaped mouths perfectly. Max knew they couldn't help. They were
too little; they were helpless themselves - helpless and clueless. Besides,
she couldn't bear it if they got hurt because of her and what she knew.
She waved her hand "bye-bye." Bailey and Elizabeth waved back.
"We won't tell!" Bailey hollered. "Cross our - nothing."
"Come back," Elizabeth Ellers called. "We can be friends."
Max missed them terribly, almost before they were out of sight. Bailey and
Elizabeth. Nice kids. Good people. Maybe they could have been friends if she
could have hung around for a while.
And she missed Matthew of course. She missed her own little brother so much.
It tore a huge, ragged hole in the center of her chest.
As she soared high across the brightly golden meadowland that adjoined the
woods, she felt achy and alone. Inside somewhere, she knew she wasn't meant to
be alone.
She was just a little kid herself.
A-rumpty-rump-dump.
A-rumpty-rump-dump.
Chapter 30
DAVID'S ARMS were thrown limply over my shoulders, and I was dragging him
through a desolate, bone-white desert that seemed familiar.
The sun was a big clock in the sky and the second hand was ticking off the
seconds between life and death. I'd been here before.
"Hurry, Frannie. Please," David panted. He whispered hoarsely against my
cheek. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but you have to hurry. We don't have much
time."
I was tired, so tired from dragging David's limp form, and yet I couldn't put
him down. "Hold on," I said to David. "Please." I felt his warm sticky blood
at the back of my neck and my hair bristled. Tears flowed down my cheeks.
"I'm here," he said. "I'll always be here for you."
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His feet dragged in the sand. He was so heavy. I adjusted my grip, but didn't
stop moving forward. My arm muscles were incredibly sore and weary. I could
feel his heartbeat against my back, but it was faint, almost gone.
As he always did, David began to tell me stories about our marriage.
Joyful, happy stories that only reminded me about how full our life had been.
Two successful practices; serious talk about having a child, maybe two or
three kids if we were lucky.
"We should have had kids, Frannie. We shouldn't have waited."
"Don't," I said. "Please don't, David. I don't want to hear this."
But he wouldn't stop. "Remember our fifth anniversary? We stayed at that
perfect little inn in Vermont, you know the one. Made love all day, Frannie.
Had breakfast, lunch and dinner in bed," he said.
"Of course I remember, David. I'll never forget Vermont."
He started to hum. It was the lovely, haunting theme from A Man and a Woman.
He'd adored that movie. I had, too. We'd seen it five or six times. I stopped
walking suddenly.
"Are we there?" David asked.
I looked into the distance. I saw only the glare and shimmering heat of the
endless desert.
"Yes," I said. "We're here."
I let David down from my back and tenderly laid him out under the sun. I
stretched his strong arms straight out to the sides. His hands and feet were
bleeding; so was the gaping bullet wound near his heart.
"I'm sorry for what I did," David said. "I'm so sorry, Frannie." I didn't
understand what he was saying, why he was sorry, but I nodded as if I did.
I took off all of my clothes and made the softest, possible pillow of them. I
tucked the pillow of clothes gently under his head. It was the single most
heartbreaking thing I have ever done.
"Thank you," said David. He looked at me with clear, loving eyes. "I knew you
wouldn't let me die."
Then David died again -just the way he always did, every single morning.
The alarm on my windowsill went off. I awoke from the disturbing dream. It
seemed so real, but of course David had died in a parking lot in Boulder, not
in some mysterious desert.
I opened my eyes in my tiny bedroom at the animal hospital. My bare arms were
stretched back and holding on to the headboard above me. My eyes were teary,
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