helping me find them,” he said.
“He can find anything,” I said.
“But he can’t actually open them.”
A little sibling rivalry there, I thought. “Have you actually spotted other gates?”
“One, yeah, in a cemetery down in Colma, but it doesn’t go to Interchange. I dunno where.”
“Both of you be careful, will you?”
“You bet. Sean wants to talk to you. He’s uptight about when we get Dad back. I mean, he’s gay, and he remembers Dad being hella down on that.”
I said an unladylike word. I remembered it, too. It also occurred to me that the Dad I was remembering would be less than thrilled to find me living with a man I wasn’t married to. “I’ll call Sean. Let’s not worry about this stuff until we actually have Dad home again.”
“Yeah, it’s not a sure thing.” Michael paused for a gloomy interval. “I’ll call Father Keith tomorrow about Sophie.”
“Good. Ask him about a group called the Hounds of Heaven. I think she’ll find them interesting.”
C HAPTER 3
B Y THE TIME MICHAEL and Sophie drove off, the time stream had washed away all traces of the thief and his temporary escape gate. I spent a few minutes trying to pick up traces of the energy but found none. The sidewalk was only a sidewalk with a little chip missing where the guy had thrown the blue-violet orb.
I went back upstairs and called Sean, but I only got his answering service. I left a message and clicked off. While I called, Ari paced up and down in the living room, but he stopped before he drove me crazy.
“I was thinking of going to the gym,” Ari said. “But I don’t like the idea of leaving you here alone. There’s not much chance that our would-be thief will come back right away, but one never knows.”
“That’s true,” I said. “I’m real glad you’re staying home.”
“All right. I can do a few sets of push-ups and the like here.” He sounded genuinely pleased at the prospect, a tone of voice that brought back grim memories of high school gym teachers.
“How many do you do?” I said.
“Three sets of fifty each. One hundred fifty for each exercise, that is. Sit-ups, push-ups, and the one whose English name I never can remember. You start standing, drop to a crouch, do a plank, then back to a squat and up.”
“No wonder you can’t remember the name. Your brain’s bruised from slapping against your skull a hundred fifty times.”
Ari set his hands on his hips and scowled at me, just like the gym teachers used to do. “It’s actually quite invigorating.”
“The very thought makes me feel faint. That’s what I used to do in gym class, faint. Constantly. It was real embarrassing.”
“You probably fainted because you were starving yourself.”
He had a point, not that I was going to admit it.
“Have fun,” I said. “I’m going to sit here and read my notebooks.”
“You could at least try a few—”
“No.” I may have snarled.
Ari gave me one last scowl, then stomped off to the bedroom to change into gym clothes. I put on a Lady Gaga CD loud enough to cover the sound of him repeatedly dropping to the floor.
Later that evening we had unexpected visitors. I was catching up on routine Agency business at my desktop, and Ari was watching a basketball game on TV, when the front doorbell rang. I started to go downstairs to open the door, but Ari stepped in front of me.
“I don’t feel any danger,” I said.
“I don’t care. Just wait.”
He picked up the new TV remote he’d acquired recently, a shiny black model, not the pizza-stained gray one I used to own. When the doorbell rang again, Ari clicked a couple of buttons. On the TV screen an image appeared of two men standing on the porch.
“It’s just Sean,” I said. “And Al. His boyfriend, y’know?”
“Oh,” Ari said. “I’ll go down and let them in.”
When he set the remote down, the basketball game reappeared onscreen. I followed as he strode to the head of the stairs, where we kept a
“He can find anything,” I said.
“But he can’t actually open them.”
A little sibling rivalry there, I thought. “Have you actually spotted other gates?”
“One, yeah, in a cemetery down in Colma, but it doesn’t go to Interchange. I dunno where.”
“Both of you be careful, will you?”
“You bet. Sean wants to talk to you. He’s uptight about when we get Dad back. I mean, he’s gay, and he remembers Dad being hella down on that.”
I said an unladylike word. I remembered it, too. It also occurred to me that the Dad I was remembering would be less than thrilled to find me living with a man I wasn’t married to. “I’ll call Sean. Let’s not worry about this stuff until we actually have Dad home again.”
“Yeah, it’s not a sure thing.” Michael paused for a gloomy interval. “I’ll call Father Keith tomorrow about Sophie.”
“Good. Ask him about a group called the Hounds of Heaven. I think she’ll find them interesting.”
C HAPTER 3
B Y THE TIME MICHAEL and Sophie drove off, the time stream had washed away all traces of the thief and his temporary escape gate. I spent a few minutes trying to pick up traces of the energy but found none. The sidewalk was only a sidewalk with a little chip missing where the guy had thrown the blue-violet orb.
I went back upstairs and called Sean, but I only got his answering service. I left a message and clicked off. While I called, Ari paced up and down in the living room, but he stopped before he drove me crazy.
“I was thinking of going to the gym,” Ari said. “But I don’t like the idea of leaving you here alone. There’s not much chance that our would-be thief will come back right away, but one never knows.”
“That’s true,” I said. “I’m real glad you’re staying home.”
“All right. I can do a few sets of push-ups and the like here.” He sounded genuinely pleased at the prospect, a tone of voice that brought back grim memories of high school gym teachers.
“How many do you do?” I said.
“Three sets of fifty each. One hundred fifty for each exercise, that is. Sit-ups, push-ups, and the one whose English name I never can remember. You start standing, drop to a crouch, do a plank, then back to a squat and up.”
“No wonder you can’t remember the name. Your brain’s bruised from slapping against your skull a hundred fifty times.”
Ari set his hands on his hips and scowled at me, just like the gym teachers used to do. “It’s actually quite invigorating.”
“The very thought makes me feel faint. That’s what I used to do in gym class, faint. Constantly. It was real embarrassing.”
“You probably fainted because you were starving yourself.”
He had a point, not that I was going to admit it.
“Have fun,” I said. “I’m going to sit here and read my notebooks.”
“You could at least try a few—”
“No.” I may have snarled.
Ari gave me one last scowl, then stomped off to the bedroom to change into gym clothes. I put on a Lady Gaga CD loud enough to cover the sound of him repeatedly dropping to the floor.
Later that evening we had unexpected visitors. I was catching up on routine Agency business at my desktop, and Ari was watching a basketball game on TV, when the front doorbell rang. I started to go downstairs to open the door, but Ari stepped in front of me.
“I don’t feel any danger,” I said.
“I don’t care. Just wait.”
He picked up the new TV remote he’d acquired recently, a shiny black model, not the pizza-stained gray one I used to own. When the doorbell rang again, Ari clicked a couple of buttons. On the TV screen an image appeared of two men standing on the porch.
“It’s just Sean,” I said. “And Al. His boyfriend, y’know?”
“Oh,” Ari said. “I’ll go down and let them in.”
When he set the remote down, the basketball game reappeared onscreen. I followed as he strode to the head of the stairs, where we kept a
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