Excerpt: ????

Meeting

April kept grinning at him and as happy as he was to see her eyes gleaming again, her amusement was starting to annoy him. He tried not to frown at her and instead turned his attention back toward the playground.

They were sitting on a hard metal bench at the local park, the kind that looks ornate and fancy but turns out being rather uncomfortable. They’d walked along the paths many times before this, on two and on four legs. The park had a nice, heavily wooded area that was home to plenty of wildlife. It was one of April’s favorite places to go running. It hadn’t been a surprise when April informed him that they would be meeting her old friend here at the park. What had surprised him was when April led him over to the playground. It was after school hours and there were several kids running crazy on the multi-colored equipment with groups of parents – mostly moms – in various states of attention. Had April’s friendship been so damaged that her friend insisted on meeting in such a public place where there’d be plenty of witnesses?

When they arrived at the park, Doug had started sizing up everyone they passed, trying to see if there was something else to them than the human that was projected. Nothing. All the other adults seemed perfectly, boringly normal. Where was the mystery guest?

April had refused to answer any of his questions. He wanted more information about her friend and she kept insisting that she needed to let her friend do the explaining. But she had mentioned, repeatedly, that she was interested to see what he thought of her. That didn’t sound very promising at all.

The afternoon wasn’t chilly but Doug wore his black windbreaker over a button-up white shirt. Summer was on it’s way out and the evenings could turn cooler. He noticed that several of the kids had arrived at the park with jackets but those were now tossed on the ground or tied around waists. April hadn’t worn a jacket. Her green flannel shirt was rolled up at the sleeves but she was probably warm enough, wearing jeans and black boots. Doug liked when she left her hair loose but today she had pulled back her auburn tresses into a loose braid. Some wisps had escaped and fell softly around her face. The effect nearly took Doug’s breath away.

“So when are we supposed to meet her?” Doug asked again.

“When she decides its time,” came the same reply April had given him since she announced the meeting.

Doug tried not to sigh. His rear was getting sore from sitting still so long on the hard metal. Not liking the grinning or the not knowing what to expect, he stood up to stretch his legs a little bit while they waited.

“Going somewhere?” April asked but she didn’t look at him, her eyes still on the playground.

“Not really,” he muttered and he walked around to stand behind her, “Just trying to keep the circulation going in my legs. I think my foot might be asleep.”

April chuckled and leaned back on the bench so she could squeeze his hand.

“We don’t have to wait too much longer,” she murmured.

Indeed, several packs of children were being claimed and directed toward home. It was getting close to dinnertime and the mothers were probably headed home to make dinner. That got Doug thinking. What were they having for dinner tonight? It wasn’t quite stew weather but he thought biscuits sounded nice. Perhaps with some sort of grilled meat…

As was his habit when he thought about food, he unknowingly flexed his fingers in front of him, curling and uncurling them as he mentally prepared dishes. He was lost in this train of thought, long enough to not notice the young girl headed toward their section of the playground. Still trying to determine if biscuits and gravy might make for a decent evening meal, he almost didn’t hear his name being called. He jerked his head back to April.

“Doug?” she asked again, her grin spreading from ear to ear.

“It is time?” he asked and made to sit back down only to find that his seat was now occupied.

The tiny person seated on the bench brought to mind the term “waif.” She was painfully thin, dressed in a too-large overall dress with a yellow t-shirt underneath. A skin-toned bandage was stuck haphazardly across her left knee but it was too small to cover the scrape underneath. Her long pale hair hung around her small face in slightly curled locks. But it was the eyes that did it. They were overly large and a bright blue. Her dark lashes seemed to hold tears on them. She was slightly freckled across the cheeks. A small but perfectly shaped red mouth trembled slightly as if she knew to be afraid of him. But why would she be? He looked perfectly normal to everyone else. Unless, of course, she herself was not normal. But Doug should have been able to see what she was, as he could with other werewolves and creatures not fully a part of the human race any longer. She simply looked like a lost, frightened child.

“Doug,” April repeated, hiking one leg up on the bench and turning toward the new arrival, “This is Angel.”

“Hello, Angel,” he said brightly.

Doug tried to give the girl a reassuring smile but perhaps it hadn’t been such a good idea to show his teeth. Her large eyes grew wider and she swallowed. Trying to calm her down, he took a step back and gave her an apologetic look. Out of habit when he met someone new, he sniffed…and smelled nothing. This close she should have been able to pick up something, even if it had been childlike fear.

“Oh, knock it off, Angel,” April said with a roll of her eyes, “You’d scare him more than he’s scaring you. You can let down your cover and show him what you really are.”

Angel looked at April and back to Doug, as if not quite believing the older female, but still scooting closer to her, as if seeking comfort or perhaps protection.

“I wouldn’t hurt you, Angel,” Doug took another step back.

"I know that,” Angel spoke for the first time and although her voice was as small as her form, it sounded as if she were speaking directly in his ear. “I suppose I really ought to show you.”

Doug blinked. April smirked. Angel seemed to transform before his eyes. She didn’t get any larger or change color, but there was definitely a glow surrounding her as she smiled at him so very sweetly. All she needed now was a pair of feathered wings and a halo to complete the picture.

“See?” April said to her small friend, “I told you he would know.”

“He does not know,” Angel replied, not taking her blue gaze off Doug. “He is making an assumption based on his upbringing. Everyone does it. Some are lucky enough to get it right.”

“Wait,” Doug hated feeling confused. “What? What are you two talking about?”

The females exchanged a smile.

“Perhaps April introduced me incorrectly,” the smaller one answered, her glow not diminishing at all. “My name is not Angel. I am an angel.”

Doug blinked again and immediately felt ridiculous, like he just discovered that he was the butt end of a joke. An angel? But those weren’t real, not really. They were the stuff of religious delusion or vision, only something from the imagination. Then he caught himself. Sure, they weren’t. Just like werewolves.

He said nothing. Really, what could he say? Instead, he quickly glanced around the park. There were still a few clusters of families but no one seemed to pay any attention to the strange glowing child seated on the bench. It must be something that normals would not notice, just like his wolf-self.

“Doug, why don’t you come sit down here and let her explain,” April suggested as she stood, motioning for him to take her place. She moved to stand where he had been behind the bench.

Doug silently obeyed, wishing April didn’t smell so amused. He was still skeptical of the small creature on the other half of the bench, still waiting for the punchline. She looked back at him, her expression unchanged as he sat beside her. At least now she didn’t look afraid.

“Sorry for the confusion,” she said in her same small but directed voice. “Unfortunately, it is a necessary precaution for when I am among mankind. I cannot be perceived as what I am unless I allow it and it is not something I permit easily.”

Doug still said nothing. He noticed now that she didn’t look as young as he originally thought. In fact, she looked much older. If not for her diminutive size, he would have thought she was in her late twenties. Must have been the eyes that threw him.

“I am sorry that you cannot rely on your other talents, either,” she mumbled as if she knew that he couldn’t smell her without him saying so, “And that is necessary, also.”

Okay. He was talking with an angel. An angel who looked like a little kid, except for the whole glowing business. And the weird voice trick. Oh, and the fact that he couldn’t smell the simplest of emotions coming from her. No problem. He just had to take a moment to wrap his head around that.

“If your name is not Angel,” Doug finally found his voice enough to ask, “Then what shall I call you?”

“Oh, call me Angel,” she said smiling that same sweet smile, “That is what everyone calls me.”

“But that’s not your name,” he replied.

“No, but it is easier.”

“And you are an…umm...” Doug couldn’t quite bring himself to say it yet.

“An angel?” she supplied. “Yes.”

Doug didn’t know where to go with that. They were silent for a moment, interrupted when Angel suddenly giggled, a sound like tiny silver bells chiming.

“Usually the next question people ask is where are my wings,” she said, scrunching up her nose, “Or my halo.”

Doug laughed hesitantly. He had thought those same things.

“Angels do not have wings,” she said matter of factly. “We have no need of them.”

“So why are all your images drawn that way?”

She shrugged her narrow shoulders in a way entirely characteristic of a young child.

“Mankind created them,” she said.

“Really?” he sounded dubious.

“Yep,” she said, placing her hands on the edge of the bench and swinging her feet. “As they did with most of the stereotypes about beings they cannot explain, nor do they wish to. It is their way of making it all make sense.”

Doug mulled that over and had to admit that she had a point.

“Just like werewolves and full moons,” he said, smiling.

“Exactly.”

“But what about silver bullets?” he asked, wondering if she knew.

She smiled at him as a teacher smiles at an overly excited pupil.

“That is not why I am here,” she said gently.