Koji’s gaze was solemn. “The enemy does not fight in an orderly manner. They ambush the unwary, give chase over great distances, and use any means possible to inflict pain upon their prey. Improvisation is often required to avoid grievous injury or capture.”
To her, it looked like a playful game of chase, and she enjoyed watching in spite of the underlying purpose of their pell-mell blitz through the forest. Jedrick’s attacks grew more ingenious, but Marcus seemed good at evasion, and before she knew it, Prissie was rooting for her classmate. “He’s doing well, isn’t he?”
“He is doing all he can,” Koji agreed.
Finally, Jedrick called an end to the lesson and strolled over to where Prissie and Koji sat. After a moment’s consideration, he chose a seat on the grass in front of the two, placing his sword within easy reach behind his back. Koji quickly crawled over to sit at the big warrior’s side and was greeted by a gentle inquiry. “How have you been faring, my young Graft?”
Marcus also laid aside his weapon and dropped unceremoniously onto the grass. His wings were already hidden away, but when Prissie stole a glance in his direction, his eyes were still a vibrant shade of gold. He smirked in a friendly sort of way, but his attention went right back to Jedrick, who was asking Koji about recent additions to his responsibilities. The more they talked, the more Prissie realized that the big Protector genuinely cared about her friend. If this was Koji’s family, then as captain, Jedrick was sort of like a father, making Marcus an older brother. It made sense to her, like how Jedrick teased Baird, and the way everyone in the Flight came together to support Tamaes.
“Prissie Pomeroy,” the big Protector said slowly.
With a start, she wondered if he’d said her name more than once, for his eyes held a spark of amusement. Feeling foolish, she mumbled, “Pardon?”
“You are welcome to join us,” Jedrick invited.
At first, Prissie wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but she should have known. Somehow with angels, everything always ended up in song. She thanked him awkwardly. “You go on without me. I like to listen.”
With a nod, Jedrick began to hum, and his two young teammates tuned their voices to his. The melody was simple, and the harmony was sublime. Marcus threw back his head and sang with unabashed enthusiasm, adolescence adding huskiness to his tones. Koji’s voice was as clear and sweet as ever, and Prissie’s heart swelled with an odd mix of pride and joy.
Now that the battle had ended, the yahavim flitted out from hiding. Prissie played with the little manna-makers while the trio of angels offered thanks and praise, and she was thrilled when the tiny angels added a melodious thrum to the chorus. Prissie found herself humming a few snatches every now and then, even though she didn’t know the melody. She wasn’t as talented as her companions, but she was glad. And the gladness just sort of spilled over. No one seemed to mind.
6
THE GIVING
SEASON
Milo stretched his long legs and took in the view from atop the Pomeroys’ barn while he waited for his teammate to rouse. The sun was just beginning to lighten the eastern horizon, but his shift at the post office didn’t start for another hour or so. There was time enough for patience. Finally, Tamaes stirred, and the Messenger greeted him. “Good morning, sleepyhead. Pleasant dreams?”
The Guardian rolled to a sitting position and accepted the box of manna Milo proffered. “Ephron is the one who waits to be found, but I am the one who feels lost.”
“Couldn’t find him?”
Tamaes shook his head and gazed toward the rising sun. “Perhaps today will be the day.”
“Amen,” Milo agreed.
The mall parking lot was packed since there were only sixteen shopping days left until Christmas. Grandma Nell circled the lots while Grammie Esme sat tall, eyes alert for any sign of an opening. The latter whooped in triumph when they found a spot, then peered over her glasses at the young Observer in the back seat. “This is your first Christmas in the States, isn’t it, Koji?”
“Indeed.”
“Then you’re in for a treat,” she promised. “This is sure to put you in the holiday spirit! Isn’t that right, Prissie?”
“Yes,” she cheerfully confirmed. Grammie Esme had begged for a girls’ day out, and Prissie had leapt at the chance … and successfully pleaded for them to include Koji in the shopping adventure. “It’s so much fun!”
They hurried to the big mall entrance, where the automatic doors opened with a whoosh of warm, peppermint-and-pine-scented air. Inside, they were met by the hubbub of voices, and a subdued jingle of seasonal music played somewhere overhead. Koji drifted to a stop, his eyes darting in every direction, for there was a lot to see. Grandma Nell checked her watch. “Do you want to meet up in the food court in a couple hours? You can show him around, and then we’ll take a break to grab a bite.”
Prissie glanced at her friend, but the young Observer was too busy studying an oversized set of silver bells to offer an opinion. “Two hours, food court,” she briskly confirmed. As her grandmothers bustled in the direction of one of the large department stores, Koji wandered closer to the glass wall that rimmed the second level’s walkway. She followed, but only partway. He might be willing to lean out over the edge to admire the view of the skylights up above, but she wasn’t going anywhere near that dizzying drop to the lower level. “What do you think?” she asked, raising her voice to be heard over the din.
Dark eyes flashed her way. “It is interesting,” he replied. “There is light and color and even music.”
“All good things!” she exclaimed, smiling happily over the festive feel in the air.
As Koji rejoined her, his fingers touched the back of her hand. Eyes on the crowds, he quietly said, “I do not wish to become separated.”
She glanced around, wondering if anyone would notice or even care, then sighed. Did it matter what any of these strangers thought? She didn’t want to become separated any more than he did. “We’ll hold hands when it’s busy.”
“Thank you, Prissie,” he accepted, fitting his fingers between hers and holding on tight.
“Are you nervous?” she asked curiously.
He shook his head. “There is so much to see, I believe I will become distracted. However, I do not wish to behave irresponsibly. My place is with you.”
She smiled at his earnest admission. “We can walk slowly. I like seeing the decorations too, so it’s no problem.”
“Thank you,” he repeated.
They strolled along, looking in huge windows plastered with ads for holiday discounts and gift ideas, which got her thinking. How did one decide what to give an angel for Christmas? The list of people she wanted to do something special for had expanded considerably this year. “What do you think Harken might like for Christmas?” she quizzed.
Koji shook his head. “I cannot say because I do not know.”
“What about Tamaes? Or Baird?”
“There is nothing we need that God does not provide.”
Prissie stubbornly argued, “But it’s Christmas!”
“On that day, as any other day, our desires are the same.”
“But I want to be able to give you a present!” she pressed.
Dark eyes blinked. “Me?”
“Obviously!” she grumbled. “You and just about everyone else in your Flight!”
Koji only shook his head in amazement. “We expect nothing.”
“That’s fine,” she said briskly, eyeing a display of baubles on one of the many kiosks they passed. “Sometimes the nicest presents come as a surprise. They need to be perfect, though.”
“Why do you insist on giving us presents?” he inquired curiously.
“Because … because the wise men brought presents to baby Jesus!” she replied with a triumphant smile. He couldn’t possibly argue with that.
Tipping his head to one side, the young angel asked, “Will you commemorate all other aspects of the events surrounding the birth of the Son of God?�
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“Like what?”
“There was song,” he replied, a hopeful light sparkling in his eyes. “Much song.”
“Were you there?”
“No, that was before I was formed. But Harken told me about it. He was there.”
“He was?” Prissie asked in amazement.
“Yes. He has told about many of the things he saw and learned while he was an apprentice,” Koji explained. “It is good practice for me. Many of the records I make for Shimron have been tales of Harken’s telling. His stories are vivid.”
“Is that so?” she mused, pausing to admire a display of brightly painted nutcrackers. “It’s hard to picture Harken being our age, but I suppose he must have been.”
“Indeed.” Koji leaned down to peer at the scene of a tiny village inside a snow globe. “He loves parables so much because he heard them firsthand.”
“He knew Jesus?”
“Every angel knows Him,” Koji said. “But, yes. Harken’s mentor was close to the Redeemer while He walked the earth.”
“Was he his Guardian or something? No, wait,” she interrupted herself. “His mentor would have to be a Messenger too.”
“That is correct,” the young angel replied. “Harken’s mentor was Gabriel.”
Prissie was stumped. Scarves, hats, and gloves were pointless for an angel who didn’t feel the cold. Plus, there wasn’t a store in the world that carried clothes big enough for giant warriors like Taweel and Jedrick. And it seemed silly to get Harken a book when he owned an entire store full of them. “I wonder if there’s any instrument that Kester doesn’t have?”
“I do not know. Should I ask?” Koji offered.
“No, that would spoil the surprise.” She frowned thoughtfully, then sighed. “I don’t know what to get anyone! Maybe I could just bake for them again? But … that might not be special enough.”
As she rambled, Koji listened with a thoughtful expression on his face, but he offered no solutions. Finally, she huffed and glanced at her watch. “I guess it’ll have to wait. Something will come to me. Let’s go! We only have an hour left, and I want to start looking for my ornament.”
Koji had followed her in and out of some of the smaller shops, never complaining like her brothers might have. He seemed just as interested in the items lining the shelves as he was in the people perusing them. As she steered him toward one of the big stores anchoring the end of the mall, he asked, “Ornament? Are you seeking some form of adornment?”
“I think the word you’re looking for is accessory, but no,” she replied. “I’m talking about tree ornaments.”
“Your brothers have spoken extensively about your family’s Christmas traditions,” Koji noted, reaching for her hand as they joined the throng of shoppers entering the department store. “I am to be afforded a sock of my own.”
“Stocking,” she corrected. “And of course you’ll be included. You’ll be added to our gift exchange too!”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “Your mother already invited me to participate. I am interested to see how the lots shall be cast.”
With such a large family, the Pomeroys didn’t even attempt to have everyone choose gifts for everyone else at Christmastime. Instead, the siblings enjoyed an annual game of Secret Santa. Prissie shook her head in amusement. “We pull names out of a hat.”
“Why do you require an ornament?” Koji asked.
“It’s a tradition,” Prissie proudly replied. “Grandma Nell started it with Aunt Ida when she was a girl, and they included me when I came along. Every year, she buys us one special ornament. We’ll choose one for Auntie too, even though her collection is in the attic right now.”
“I see.”
“This way,” she said, pointing confidently at the small forest of artificial trees just ahead. “Sometimes, Auntie sends me ornaments too. She knows just the kind that I like best, so they’re always really beautiful. Oooh, pretty!”
Prissie let go of Koji’s hand as they reached the store’s impressive display of seasonal ornaments. She drifted between trees of different heights, eagerly inspecting the offerings. He trailed after her, but soon became distracted by the incredible variety. She nearly ran into him when they both circled the same tree in opposite directions.
“There is much to see, but I do not understand the purpose of many of these adornments.” Koji pointed uncertainly to a tree decorated entirely with birds. “I do not see how this connects with the Savior’s birth. Is this a celebration of the fifth day of creation?”
She laughed softly. “It doesn’t really have anything to do with anything,” she explained. “Some people collect ornaments according to a theme.”
“Like you?” he asked.
“Well, sort of,” she conceded. “I’ve always chosen ornaments that I really liked, and they’re all different shapes and sizes. But most of them are colored glass … like this.” Prissie pointed helpfully to a glass sphere with swirls of pink and gold covering its surface.
“Will you be searching for an ornament based on appearances again?”
She could tell there was a challenge lurking in his tone, and she impulsively took him up on it. “I think this year, I want an ornament that reminds me of you.”
He blinked. “It is not the season of my birth.”
Prissie gently touched a pink-frosted icicle before glancing his way. “Do you have a birthday?”
Koji hesitated. “I am not aware of the true date of my beginning, but I do know what day Abner chose for the papers I needed when becoming a Graft.”
“What day?”
“The day I met you,” he replied quietly.
Prissie’s eyes widened. “Summer, then? It was the end of July.”
“Indeed.”
“I don’t remember what the exact date was,” she admitted.
“The twenty-fifth day of July,” he supplied.
“I’ll remember that!” she cheerfully promised.
“Why?”
She rolled her eyes. “Because we’ll need to celebrate the day together … obviously!”
Koji’s expression softened. “That would bring me great joy.”
Back in the food court with Prissie’s grandmothers, she and Koji decided on pizza. They carried their tray of food back to the table where Grandma Nell and Grammie Esme were sitting with plates of Chinese takeout. As usual, the young Observer managed to fade into the background, letting the ladies visit while he contentedly chewed.
At first, the main topic of conversation was shoes. Grammie Esme wanted to buy Prissie a new pair to go with the Christmas dress that Grandma Nell had been working on since after Halloween. While her grandmothers debated the pros and cons of suede versus patent leather, Prissie glanced over to see if Koji was enjoying his food. As usual, he ate with concentration, and a smile snuck onto her face.
That’s when Grammie chuckled. “Speaking of pairs … you two are just so darn cute together! Aren’t they adorable, Nell?”
“Are they?”
“Look at them!” Esme gushed.
Grandma Nell nodded but kept her tone even. “I can see them fine, beings as they’re sitting right in front of us.”
“Oh, you know what I mean!” scoffed the other woman, whose eyes were twinkling. “They look like they’re special to one another!”
Prissie couldn’t believe her own grandmother would do this to her. Then again, Grammie Esme did love to stir the pot. Still, the teasing made her uncomfortable. Grandma Nell never stood for nonsense, and to Prissie’s relief, she came to her granddaughter’s defense. “Is it so strange that these children have become friends? Honestly, Esme!”
“But she’s at that age,” Grammie countered, waggling her brows.
Prissie thought she might be on fire, her cheeks were burning so brightly.
“Excuse me,” Koji spoke up, and all eyes swung his way. “Prissie is my friend, and I am pleased that you can tell so easily. That is as it should be.”
Esme straightened her glasses.
“You don’t say?”
“I do say,” the young angel calmly replied. “I will gladly confirm it, for it is the truth.”
Grammie clapped her hands and laughed. “Well said! Doesn’t he sound just like a prince, Nell? So chivalrous, coming to her defense like that!”
“He does have manners,” Grandma Nell blandly agreed. “Now about those shoes. Don’t you think heels are too impractical this time of year? There’s snow to contend with.”
The conversation drifted back where it belonged, and Prissie breathed a sigh of relief. Koji reached for his drink, and she followed suit since her mouth felt too dry. Then he slid his foot over until it bumped hers. Her grandmothers were deeply entrenched once more, so they paid no mind when she sent Koji a cautious glance. With a small smile, he whispered, “Fear not.”
Somehow, that was all Prissie needed to hear. She smiled back.
7
THE
SKATING
PARTY
An hour before dawn, Milo rapped lightly on the front door of a log cabin set back from one of the narrow roads that wound through Sunderland State Park’s extensive grounds. Moments later, the door swung wide, allowing warmth and light to spill out onto the snowy steps. Abner peered sharply at the Messenger. “So it’s you?”
“The lot has fallen to me,” acknowledged his teammate.
Raising his voice, Abner called, “It’s Milo!”
“I thought as much,” Padgett replied mildly. “Only a Graft would enter through the front door.”
Abner’s eyes drifted out of focus, and he murmured, “A valid point … or would you call that a keen observation? Hmm.”
With gentle assertiveness, his apprentice invited, “Won’t you come in?”
Once Milo was settled in a chair before the hearth, a veritable swarm of yahavim darting about his ears, Abner remarked, “Aril will be pleased to see you again. How long has it been?”
The Broken Window Page 6