The Blue Door - By Christa Kinde Page 0,4
it to Grandma Nell?”
“I dunno,” he replied reluctantly, tightening his grip on his teacher, half-throttling the man.
“I’ll do it!” volunteered Jude eagerly.
“No! Me!” Zeke exclaimed.
Prissie looked on with a mixture of envy and embarrassment as her brothers vied for Milo’s attention. She was a little surprised that no one had commented on Koji’s presence yet. Normally, Zeke would have asked a dozen barely polite questions by now, and Jude wasn’t shy when it came to strangers. Glancing down at their ignored guest, she smiled apologetically.
“Your family sure is noisy,” Koji quietly remarked.
“Yeah, they are,” she murmured back.
“It gives your home a pleasant atmosphere.”
Prissie sniffed. “You don’t have to live here.”
After a short dispute, the two youngsters were off like a shot toward the smaller of the two houses that shared Pomeroy Orchard’s front lawn, Zeke with package in hand, and Jude carrying the rest of Pete and Nell’s mail.
Once they disappeared inside with the sharp slap of a screen door, Milo spoke up. “Mrs. Pomeroy, I was wondering if I could borrow some able assistants for the rest of the afternoon?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Nothing too dangerous,” the mailman replied lightly. “I’m going into town to help Harken Mercer for a couple hours. He received a shipment of used books from upstate, and he has a lot of boxes to unpack.”
“Many hands make light the work,” Naomi quipped. Glancing between her remaining children, she asked, “Any volunteers?”
Prissie glanced at Milo, who nodded. “I’m going,” she declared.
“Yeah, I’ll go,” Beau agreed.
Again, Koji was overlooked, and Prissie cringed over her mother’s baffling rudeness. Meanwhile, Naomi instructed, “Have them back by six and then stay for supper. Grandma Nell always makes enough for an army.”
“It would be a pleasure! Thank you, ma’am.”
“You can stay for dinner, too,” Prissie whispered to Koji.
His black eyes sparkled, but he hesitated before answering, “I do not think it will be permitted, but thank you.”
“What was that, Prissie?” her mother asked, giving her daughter a strange look.
“Huh?”
“I was asking if you wanted to change. It sounds like dusty work.”
“No, I’m fine,” she insisted with a toss of braids. There was no way she was going into town with Milo wearing grungy work clothes.
They trooped back down to the car parked in front of the mailboxes, and Beau offered to take the backseat. While he and Milo stacked plastic mail bins to make room, Koji scooted into the front seat, taking the spot in the middle. Prissie slid in next to him, puzzling over her family’s behavior. It didn’t make any sense … unless … Slouching a little so that the seat provided cover, she whispered, “Can I see them again?” Koji nodded and pushed back his hair, revealing the pointed tip of one ear. “If you aren’t an elf … are you some kind of a fairy?”
He blinked and said, “No.”
“Alien?”
Koji looked vaguely insulted. “No.”
“Well, you’re not a normal boy,” she accused in a hushed voice. “My family acted as if you weren’t even there, and I think it’s because they couldn’t see you.”
“People should not be able to see me,” Koji replied with a small frown.
“Milo can see you,” Prissie countered as the mailman slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
“Yes, I can,” the mailman amiably confirmed, keeping his voice low.
“Why?”
“Because we’re the same … well, mostly,” Milo smiled, then spoke louder for the benefit of her younger brother in the back. “Everyone buckled?”
“Yeah,” Beau replied.
Prissie was losing patience with answers that weren’t answers. Milo was a fixture in their town and in her life. He was a normal guy who liked to joke and tease. He’d never been mysterious, and she didn’t like the sudden change one bit. As they took off toward the highway, engine noise and the clatter of gravel helped cover Prissie’s question. “The same … how?” she demanded in a hoarse whisper.
“I am not sure if I should say,” Koji answered, his shoulders hunching miserably.
Milo gave the boy’s knee a reassuring pat, then checked on Beau in the rear-view mirror. “The truth is best,” he said, offering Prissie a lopsided smile before turning his attention back on the road. “Go ahead, Koji.”
The boy straightened and bravely met Prissie’s gaze. “The truth is … we are angels.”
2
THE CURIOSITY SHOP
Did you hear, sir?”
“You don’t have to call me sir. We’re off duty.”
“Yes, sir,” his young partner replied, hurrying on. “Did you receive Harken’s message?”
“Message?” the balding man answered distractedly. “Was there one?”
“A moment ago, sir.”
“Then, no. I’m afraid it escaped my