“Say something, Havoc.”
I startled and realized I’d half expected him to call me Zaniel. “Something,” I said.
He laughed, and it was a real laugh, his old laugh, which I’d grown to love when we were kids. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed the sound of it.
“You were always the serious one, but then you’d say something like that and be funny as Heaven.” His voice was rougher than of old, but then he’d spent nearly thirteen years screaming his madness at anyone that would listen or couldn’t get away fast enough. He’d been cast out of the College two years before I left voluntarily.
I hit the buzzer on the gate so I could swing it open and step through. I needed to be sure before I let him inside. I could hear Doris talking baby talk to the puppies. We had other families here with kids.
His smile wilted a little around the edges, and his eyes showed the first pain. “I’m so sorry for anything I did before.” His face started to crumple and suddenly lines were in his face that the beard had hidden. The years on the streets had carved their way onto that boyishly handsome face, but now he looked like an older, more tired version of himself and not some bearded stranger. I couldn’t bear to see unhappiness in this new old face.
I took the steps that let me put a hand on either side of his face and leaned down so I could touch my forehead to his. Then we were hugging, and the body was still that stranger’s body, too thin and frail from never enough food, never enough care and attention to it. I held him tight, the old and the new, and thanked God and the angels for this moment of clarity. If it never came again, I’d seen his brown eyes filled up again, his smile on the face I remembered, and for that I was truly thankful, but because I was human, I asked for more. I asked for him to stay sane and whole and be my family again, and I asked forgiveness for wanting more when I’d just been given so much.
I found my voice first, and asked, “Jamie, how?” Because it’s also human to question miracles.
He pulled back enough to look up at me. There were tears on his face, too. “That is not my name and hasn’t been my name since I walked through the gates of the College of Angels and they christened us with our angel names.”
I wiped at my face with the back of my hands as we both stepped back out of the hug. I wanted to take his hand in mine and keep holding on, because only that would make it real.
“Levanael,” I said.
He shook his head. “No, that name is still forbidden.”
“Then what do I call you?”
“Levi, call me Levi.”
“Levi,” I said, trying the new name out; it felt okay. I reached out and took his hand like I was shaking it, but I just needed to keep touching him, as if he’d change back into crazy Jamie if I didn’t hold on to him.
He squeezed my hand and didn’t let go, as if he understood some of what was happening inside me. He’d been my best friend, closer to me than my actual brother, closer to me even than Suriel, or maybe his loss had driven us apart, I couldn’t remember anymore; all I knew was that I didn’t want to let him go, and part of me wanted to call Surrie and say, Look, look, he’s back, our other third, the person who helped make the three of us whole.
“How? How did you . . . get cleaned up?” It sounded like I was asking him about drug rehab instead of recovering his sanity, but I didn’t know how to ask the other.
“I’ll tell you everything I remember.”
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
He grinned at me, and it hurt my heart to see that old expression in his face. “Aren’t I always?”
The truth was that Jamie wasn’t. He never ate enough even when I tried to give him food. Levanael had eaten like the teenage boy he’d been.
“Come on up, I’ll fix you something.”
“I remember you learned to cook for just you, or you and Connery, or you and me. When you first left the College, you could only cook for big groups.”
“That’s right,” I said, squeezing his hand and starting to lead him inside the gate by the hand like he was Connery. “We never cooked for just ourselves in the College, it was always a group activity.”
“We didn’t have to do a lot of things for ourselves,” he said, and sounded sad.
I pulled on his hand so I could get him to look at me. He still looked sane, but sad and tired. “I’ll feed you and then maybe you can catch some sleep.”
He shook his head. “Food, then I tell you what I remember. I’m afraid to sleep. I’ve spent so many years not knowing which is real and which is dream and which is . . . other.”
I wanted to ask what he meant by other, but I didn’t. I’d ask after he’d eaten, or maybe I wouldn’t. I didn’t have to know all the details of the miracle all at once.
CHAPTER FORTY
We helped Doris catch the puppies, which were doing laps around the pool. Jamie laughed as he held a squirming puppy. It struggled not to get down, but to lick his face. He’d been afraid of dogs, of most animals, for years, and now he acted like an armful of puppy was the best thing in the world. It made my heart ache to see him so happy about anything, but especially one of the many things he’d seemed terrified of for over ten years. I would not cry in front of him while he was laughing, but I wanted to; luckily the puppy in my hands gave a serious squirm and I had to concentrate not to drop it. The thought that I might drop the tiny dog instead of saving it was enough to dry up any thoughts of tears.
“You really need to get them life jackets, Doris,” I said as I handed the puppy to her.
“I got them, they have little handles on them and everything. They’re supposed to be napping, not out by the pool, and thank you for getting Charlie out of the pool when he fell in last week.”
“I’m happy to help, and thank you for letting Connery play with them.”
“Pugs love kids, and he helped tire these little maniacs out,” she said, laughing as Donald tried to lick her face.
Jamie offered her the other puppy, and she tucked one under each arm. “Thank you both for catching the little hooligans.”
“Our pleasure,” Jamie said, and seemed to mean it.
One puppy started barking. “Charlie, stop that.” He didn’t stop and now it was a duo of puppy barks. “Don’t you start, Donald.”
“I’m going to take Jam . . . Levi upstairs for some food. We’ll see you later.”
“Have him make you some of that veggie pasta with the white sauce, it’s delicious,” she said as she turned with the wriggling puppies.
“I don’t have the ingredients for that right now, Doris, maybe next time he visits.”
“Invite me next time you make it,” she called back as she used her foot to close the door, and the sound of excited barking grew a little dimmer.
“That was great,” Jamie said.
I almost said, But you’re scared of dogs, but I didn’t, because his face was shining with joy, almost like the way Connery’s did after he’d played with the dogs. It was like Jamie was reborn, childlike and happy, like the last thirteen years had been washed away. I said another quick prayer of gratitude and led him toward the only stairs leading up. My apartment was at the top of the stairs; just turn slightly to the right.