can’t seem to pick out the ones that should be asked first, the ones that are the most important. There’s too many ideas, too many grandiose thoughts, and they jumble together into an incoherent mess. “What’s Heaven like?” I finally ask, not sure why that question comes the easiest.
He looks at me funny. “I don’t know,” he says. “I’ve never been.” “What? But… you’re an angel.”
“Yes, but Heaven is for mortals, for humans. I am not one.”
“Oh.” What do you say to that? I’m sorry? “What’s God like?”
“Never met him, though word is he’s a control freak.”
I narrow my eyes. “Are you making fun of me?”
He chuckles. “Kind of. Only the upper echelons get an audience with him. I’m pretty far down on the totem pole.”
“Why?”
Calliel looks embarrassed. “I’m still sort of new at this,” he mutters, averting his eyes.
“New at what?”
He waves his hands from his crouched position. “You know… this whole thing.”
I’m confused. “Falling from the sky? Not having wings?”
He sighs and glares at me for a moment, as if my incomprehension is somehow causing him pain. “I’m new to being a guardian angel,” he grumps at me.
“You’re what?”
He scowls at me. “Why’re you laughing at me?”
“I’m not,” I say, even though I am. I can’t help but think it would be just my luck that my guardian angel would be brand new to the job. Wait…. “What do you mean you’re new? You said you’ve been around since construction on Little House started and that was years ago. How long have you been the guardian to Roseland?”
“Since it was founded. New guardians are always assigned to the small towns first before they can work their way up to the larger cites.”
I feel the blood drain from my face. A buzzing picks up in my ears. “That,” I hear myself say, “was almost two hundred years ago.”
He laughs, a low gruff sound. “I told you I’m new.”
“That’s new to you?” I ask, starting to wheeze again. “How old are you?”
Cal looks worried again, as if my mental breakdown is splayed clearly across my face. “We don’t keep track of years like you do, Benji. But if I had to put a number on it, it would be 186 years, 247 days, nineteen hours, six minutes, and fifty-five seconds. Fifty-six seconds. Fifty-sev—”
“I get it,” I interrupt. “That’s when you were born?”
He moves closer to the edge of the roof, peering down at me. “We’re not born like you. I don’t have parents. He had need of me and I simply came into being.”
“What? Who?”
“God. Who do you think?”
I feel dizzy. “So God just thinks of an angel and they pop into existence?” “I’m pretty sure you’re oversimplifying, but okay.”
“And then you’re assigned to a town to watch over them?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
Calliel looks away, toward the brightening horizon. “As long as it takes,” he says softly.
“Takes for what? Is it like some sort of test?”
His shoulders slump. “Yes. We’re all tested. Every one of us.” His voice grows slightly menacing.
“When is your test?”
“I don’t ever remember you asking this many questions. That’s all this is with you. Questions, questions, questions.”
“It’s not every day you meet someone who is an angel,” I say honestly.
The grin is back, though smaller than it was before. I’m almost scared to ask. “What?”
“You believe me,” Calliel says.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I assure him. “What about—”
“Hush, Benji. It’s starting. Come up here and look.”
—my father? What about my father, Calliel? If you are supposed to be a guardian, if you are supposed to watch over and protect the people of Roseland, what about my father?
For a moment, I almost refuse. Too much has been laid at my feet and I need time to process it, away from him. I need to figure out what the fuck I’m going to do. In my heart, pounding with a ferocious ache, I know I believe him. My rational mind is telling me, No. It’s saying, No, how could it be? How could something like this actually be? But my heart is winning the war and I am beginning to believe. Still, I need to think. I need to focus.
I’m at the ladder before I realize I’m even walking. I’m on the first two rungs when he peers over the edge of the roof down at me. He waits for me to climb up another rung or two before he extends his hand, watching me. He must see the hesitation in my eyes. He must see the conflict in