I’m still sitting there when an old Honda rolls up the driveway. It rolls past Big House and a minute later brakes squeal as it pulls next to the Ford. I’ll have to remember to check the pads next time. Abe opens the door and gets out. He looks up at me. “Benji,” he says.
“Abe.”
“Where’s our friend?”
I shrug.
“Is he here?”
“No. He’s gone.”
Abe looks around. “He left?”
I nod.
“He coming back?”
“I don’t know.” I hope. Oh, how I hope. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please come back. I’ve been praying like this for hours. Nothing has happened.
“Boy,” Abe says, narrowing his eyes, “what did you do?”
“I told him that God didn’t give a shit about him,” I say honestly. “I told him he might as well have been the one that killed my father, since he didn’t protect him. I told him I didn’t need him here.” Those words hurt. I ignore the way my voice cracks.
“Did you mean it?”
I shake my head. “He’s my friend. I was mad. He was hurting and frustrated and I took that and made it my own. I lashed out. I drove him away. I drove him away and I don’t know if he’s going to come back.”
“You’re going to make me climb that ladder, aren’t you?” Abe asks, sounding resigned.
“Had to watch the sunrise,” I tell him, hoping he’ll understand even though I know he won’t. “It’s kind of a tradition now. Abe, what if he doesn’t come back?”
But Abe doesn’t answer, he’s already moving toward the side of the house, to the ladder. I try not to think as I wait, but I fail miserably. You’ve only known him nine days, I chide myself. Nine days is nothing in the scheme of things. Nine days is minuscule compared to how long you’ve gone without him. Grow a pair.
I almost believe my own lies. Almost.
Abe finally huffs his way to the top and comes to sit beside me, his knees cracking as he lowers himself. He doesn’t speak for a time, and we watch the morning take shape around us. It’s okay, this silence. It’s easier to drown when it’s quiet.
But I should have known it wouldn’t last long. “Wings, huh?” Abe finally says.
“Yeah. Angel, even.”
“That’s…. something new.”
“That’s what I said.”
Silence. Then, “Did you mean it?”
“No,” I say roughly. “I didn’t mean a word of it. It’s not his fault. He’s right. I’m the one who called him here. Even if he wanted to come, I still called him.”
“That light everyone was talking about. Last week? The meteor. Out by seventyseven where Big Eddie… oh my God, that was him?”
I manage a weak smile. “You should have been there. He made quite the entrance.”
The blood has drained from Abe’s face. “I just never thought… not here. Not in my lifetime.”
“He’s a guardian. Supposed to be our guardian angel. The whole town’s guardian angel. That’s what he says.”
“Guarding from what?”
“Everything, I think. I still don’t know quite how it works. He’s… different. I think he’s even different than any other guardian angel. I don’t know why I know that. But I do.”
“Big Eddie? Does Cal know….”
I shake my head. “He can’t remember. Something happened to him. Something that made him forget. He’s not supposed to be here. Something broke when he fell and he doesn’t know how to fix it. And I just made it worse.”
Abe’s quiet for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “You know,” he says after a minute, “we both hurt, sometimes more than I think we’d care to admit. I lay awake all night last night, thinking I would know what I would ask when I drove over here. You know what I was going to ask him, Benji?” He looks out into the forest. “I was going to ask him about Estelle. If he was an angel like I thought he was, I was going to ask him about my wife. I was going to ask him why she had to leave when she did. Why she had to go before I did. Ten years, it’s been now. We weren’t young when she passed, but she was young enough that it shouldn’t have happened. I’m told an aneurysm is like that. It’s one of those things that shouldn’t happen, but it does anyway.”
I bow my head, fighting back against the tears that threaten.
“I was selfish, you know. A long time after she died. Years. I was angry at her for being the first one to die, leaving me behind