The Hidden Deep (13 page)

“So it’s
my
fault Ransom won’t go to church? That’s not fair!”

“No. But you certainly haven’t helped matters.”

Cold settled in the pit of her stomach. Koji was disappointed in her. Her father was mad at her. And it was all Ransom’s fault. Why did her dad care more about him than her? She doubted tonight could get any worse. Except … it did.

“Prissie, I want you to apologize to him.”

“
What
?”

“You heard me,” her father said seriously. “I’ll be praying that you find an opportunity. When it comes, I expect you to take it.”

T
he clash of blades rang above the forest, and with a quick twist, one sword spun free of its wielder’s grasp and plummeted from the sky. Marcus glided down to the grassy meadow and bent double, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “Think before you act!” chided Jedrick as he joined him on the ground.

“Yeah, I blew it,” his apprentice admitted. He straightened and kneaded his sword hand with a grimace. “I didn’t realize you were setting me up until it was too late.”

“The enemy delights in deception, so you must be wiser than the serpent,” instructed the Protector as he crossed to retrieve Marcus’s blade.

“But gentle as the dove?” he asked with a smirk. He accepted his weapon and tested his grip.

“On the contrary,” Jedrick replied with a glint in his eyes. He extended green wings and launched back into the shifting lights overhead. “I intend to make an eagle of you, so rise up!”

November rolled around, and with it came Beau’s birthday, which had always been a big deal for the Pomeroy family. Since he and Prissie were only ten months apart, for the next two months, they would both be fourteen. The novelty of being
almost
twins was part of the reason why Prissie was closer to Beau than any of her other brothers. Though they weren’t quite what she considered
friends
, they operated under a sort of siblings’ truce. She didn’t nag him, and he didn’t criticize her, all because they shared their age for seventy days of the year.

“What do you want for supper?” Momma asked with a knowing smile.

Beau glanced up from his cereal bowl. “Macaroni and cheese, I guess.”

Neil snorted. “Big surprise, little brother.”

The birthday boy rolled his eyes, and Prissie fondly shook her head. Beau’s favorite food hadn’t changed since he was two.

Today’s celebration would be so different from the way the Burkes did birthdays. Margery’s mother threw parties that took weeks of preparation, and the resulting events could have been photographed for a magazine. Whenever the Pomeroys celebrated a birthday, the kids were given their choice of dinner and dessert. A few presents found their way onto the table after the meal, and the rest of the evening was usually taken up by board games and embarrassing stories.

Just before dinner that evening, Jayce rounded up the kids and led the procession to the measuring wall. Grandma Nell had started this part of their family traditions back when he and Ida were little, marking their height on the laundry room’s door frame. When Jayce’s lot came one after the next, it became necessary to spread out. The entire laundry room wall was filled with neat lines and notations in Momma’s tidy handwriting. Somewhere along the way, color coding had been instituted to help differentiate all the kids. Prissie carried the purple marker that would be used to record Beau’s annual height. Everyone else would get a peek at their progress in pencil.

At eighteen, Tad was finally eye-to-eye with Jayce, and Neil could boast that he was taller than Grandpa — barely. Prissie had surpassed both her grandmothers and was creeping up on Momma. Beau stood straight, and Jayce took his measure. “I’d say you grew another two inches,” he announced, eyeballing last year’s mark.

A swift comparison was made, and based on Neil’s and Tad’s records, Prissie figured he would shoot up in the near future. “Can we add Koji to the wall?” she asked.

“Sure, sure,” Jayce replied, waving the boy over. “Even if it’s just for a while, you’re part of the family!”

The young Observer’s eyes were wide as he stepped up to the wall. His mark fell a couple inches shy of Prissie’s current height, and with a satisfied smile, she said, “There! Now we’ll know if you have a growth spurt, too!”

“Indeed,” he replied with a pleased smile. “I am honored to be counted among you.”

Laughter was interrupted by the dinner bell, and everyone herded back to the table. Dinner was good, cake was
great, stories were funny, and gifts were gratefully received. Then Jayce raised his hands for attention. “I know this is out of the ordinary, but I planned a little something extra for the birthday boy this year!”

“What is it?” Zeke asked curiously. “A dirt bike?”

“A pony?” guessed Jude.

Their father chuckled and said, “No, but I think it’s something that Beau will like.”

“Where is it? Can I see?” Zeke demanded.

“It’s something we can all share, but it won’t be here until tomorrow.” That said, Jayce folded his hands on the table and smiled smugly.

“Is that
all
you’re going to tell us?” Prissie demanded.

“Yes,” he replied, his eyes sparkling. “Yes, it is.”

“Does anyone else know?” she inquired, for she’d noticed that her older brothers weren’t asking any questions. Grandpa and Grandma were also suspiciously calm.

“Tomorrow,” Jayce repeated firmly.

That night, Koji slipped into Prissie’s room after everyone else was asleep. She suspected that Tamaes had told him she was still up, which made her a little grumpy. Did
everyone
have secrets from her? She hated being out of the loop! The young Observer climbed to his favorite perch on her window seat and sat with one leg pulled up to his chest, the other swinging.

“Do you know what they have planned?” she asked suspiciously.

“I believe your father wishes his plans to remain a surprise,” Koji replied matter-of-factly.

“You
do
know what he has in mind!”

“In part,” he said. She made an impatient gesture, anxious to hear what he knew, but Koji simply shook his head. “I will not tell you what I know, so do not ask.”

Prissie flopped down and pulled her quilt up to her chin. “Is it something good?”

Koji smiled.

“So it
will
be something good!”

“Indeed.”

Prissie sighed and wriggled down into her mattress. The weather had taken a bitter turn, and her room was decidedly chilly. “Aren’t you cold?” she asked.

Koji looked down at his bare toes and replied, “No. The cold does not bother me.”

They sat together in comfortable silence for a little while, but finally, Prissie complained, “I’m never going to get to sleep.”

“I will not either.”

“That hardly counts! You
don’t
sleep!”

The young Observer continued to peer through the multicolored panes of glass at the stars, a smile on his face. Pushing his hair behind his ear, Koji began to hum softly. Small snatches of a tune teased at her memory until she finally placed the song. Kester’s lullaby. The gentle melody filled her mind, weaving with images of harp strings and stained glass wings that carried her off to sleep.

Prissie slept late, and when she woke, she was momentarily disoriented by the level of noise coming from downstairs. Usually, Saturday mornings smelled like coffee and sounded
like cartoons, but the unmistakable clatter of full-scale meal preparations filtered up from the kitchen. Whatever had been planned for today was already beginning.

Tucking her feet into slippers, Prissie hurried down the back stairs to see what was going on. “Good morning, Priscilla,” her mother greeted when she peeped into the kitchen. With a glance at the clock, which showed it was coming up on eleven, she added, “Barely.”

“What’s going on?”

“We’re expecting company,” Momma replied with a secretive smile.

“On a Saturday?”

Her mother said, “Now that it’s November, we won’t see much business, but if customers do drop in, it won’t be a problem. We’ll be out in the barn anyhow.”

“In the barn?” Prissie echoed blankly.

Grandma Nell bustled through with Beau and Koji close on her heels, each carrying a pan of corn bread. “This should do it! More than enough to go around!” she said to her daughter-in-law. Catching sight of her granddaughter, she beamed. “There you are, sweetie!”

Eying the baking, Prissie scuffled over to the stove and peeped under the lid of a pot simmering on the back burner, releasing the spicy-rich smell of homemade chili. Momma said, “We’ll be doing chili five ways, and I could use an extra pair of hands. Why don’t you hurry and get dressed. I suggest you wear something nice,” she added with a wink.

From the upstairs bathroom window, Prissie caught sight of her older brothers hauling saw horses and picnic tables into the apple barn, and not long after that, she saw Beau
and Koji carrying a stack of Grandma’s checkered tablecloths down there as well.

In the kitchen once more, she demanded, “Who’s coming over?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Naomi replied. “Now grate that cheese for me. I’ll finish the onions.”

“What about Dad?” Prissie asked. “Doesn’t he have to work until two?”

“Our guests know that it’ll be a late lunch. Nobody minded.”

Twenty minutes later, two vehicles rolled up the driveway and pulled to a stop in front of the barn. As car doors slammed and greetings were called, Prissie hurried over to the window for a peek. She didn’t recognize either the silver hatchback or the bright red minivan. All doors were open, and a group of people had crowded around to unload something. Her brothers were toting black cases and coils that looked like extension cords. “What’s going on out there?” Then a shock of red hair bounced into view, and she exclaimed, “Is that
Baird
?”

“Yes, it is!” her mother cheerfully replied. “And he brought friends!”

“Who are they?”

“His band,” Momma said. “Your father arranged it as a special treat for Beau so he could learn more about running a sound board. Baird’s band is going to rehearse here, and your brother gets to fiddle with all those knobs and levers and things.”

Prissie looked at Grandma Nell. “You knew they were coming?”

“Of course, sweetie. I had to do the cooking, didn’t I? And your grandpa also knew, since the barn needed to be ready.”

“Am I the
only
one who didn’t know?” Prissie grumbled.

Her grandmother chuckled. “I think your parents wanted
you
to enjoy the surprise as much as Beau.”

Prissie spotted Kester carrying an enormous instrument case toward the barn, and slowly she retreated back to the table, taking a muffin as a very late breakfast. She didn’t like surprises. Today’s plans had not been submitted for her approval, and while she had to admit they were
good
plans, she wasn’t sure if she was excited or not. Caught up in trying to sort out her mixed-up feelings, she totally missed the arrival of yet another car.

With a short rap on the kitchen door, Milo let himself in. “Hey, ladies! I’m useless in the barn with all those cords and wires. Can I lend a hand here?”

“Oh, good. A man!” Grandma Nell exclaimed, waving him over. “Sit there.”

Milo slid into a chair, and she placed a few jars in front of him. “Here, you go. Could you open these for me? Prissie can fill serving dishes.” Grandma Nell bustled back to the cupboard and returned with large bowls. “I’ll just go set up the coffee pot in the barn and say hello to our guests. Naomi, will you bring the silverware?”

After the women left, Milo said, “Hey, Miss Priscilla.”

“Hi, Milo,” she replied with a half-hearted smile.

“Something wrong?”

“Nooo,” she replied vaguely, unsure how to explain her funk. On the one hand, she was glad that Baird and Kester were back, but she was a little miffed about having to share them with so many other people. In a way, she’d come to think of these angels as
hers.
Prissie watched Milo struggle with a wide-mouthed jar. “I would have thought angels were
super strong or something,” she remarked with the beginnings of a smile.

“I’m a supernatural being, but that’s a far cry from omnipotent.”

“All-powerful?”

“That I am
not
,” Milo said. With a comical expression, he attacked the lid, but finally sighed in defeat. “I can tell you how to say
pickle
in every language known to man, but that won’t get us any closer to your grandmother’s gherkins.” Prissie giggled, and his blue eyes sparkled. Then he quirked a brow at a spot across the table. “A little help here?”

In a twinkling, Taweel was revealed, sitting with his chin propped on his hand, his fingers half-hiding his amusement. Waving the jar before the Guardian, Milo said, “It would take a miracle for me to open this. Be my miracle?”

With a soft grunt, the warrior held out his hand, and the Messenger turned over the jar.

“Hello, Taweel,” Prissie said, earning a nod. A yellow-haired yahavim popped into view by climbing over Taweel’s head, crawling through the wild mess of black hair. “Omri!” she exclaimed in delight.

The little manna-maker grew brighter as he flew down to the table, and Milo said, “Now,
there’s
a smile. Maybe the two of you should stick together today.”

Meeting the little angel’s gaze for a moment, Prissie asked, “We two?” The suggestion startled her, and she peeped out of the corner of her eye at Taweel. “Won’t he want to stay with you?”

Violet eyes flicked to her face, then settled on his small companion. “Omri will go where he is needed most.”

Prissie brimmed with hope as she faced the tiny angel. “Would you like to come with me for a while?”

Omri launched into the air and darted in a circle around her head, before settling onto her shoulder. She turned her head slightly to look into his upturned face, and small hands patted her cheek as he hummed in her ear. “I think that means yes,” Milo said with a smile.

Taweel handed off the opened jar to Milo just as Grandma Nell returned. “Oh, you’re a wonder-worker!” she praised, then helped Prissie finish filling the bowls with sweet peppers, hot peppers, and homemade salsa. “Why don’t you two take those down to the barn and add them to the table. We’ll wait to bring the hot food until Jayce is back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Milo and Prissie replied together.

In the apple barn, plank tables had been lined up to create a sort of buffet, and several picnic tables were pulled together. Just beyond those, a makeshift sound booth had been established, and Baird’s band fanned out to set up their gear. Grandpa Pete’s space heaters were helping take the chill off, and the smell of coffee further warmed the air. Milo and Prissie left their dishes of pickles and peppers on the table under Momma’s watchful eye, and then the Messenger steered her toward Baird’s band.