“Yes.”
Mitch said nothing, then shook his head slowly back and forth. Mercy had her arm wrapped in his and she seemed to hold him a little tighter. Antoine Boutrain placed his hand on Emme’s shoulder. Emme nodded and started to speak, but never got the chance. Without warning, two photographers rushed right through us, one of them almost clipping Mercy with his camera as he ran. Charles Lindbergh had decided to leave early and every photographer in the hallway was scrambling for a shot.
Geaxi said, “I shall be back shortly,” and headed directly into the crowd. For some reason, I felt compelled to follow. “We won’t be long,” I said, and sprinted to catch up.
Geaxi moved as smooth as a pickpocket, slipping by and around and squeezing through the onlookers, reporters, photographers, city officials, and security people. Still, we could get no closer than fifteen feet from where Lindbergh would make his exit. The crowd pushed and pressed together and we had to think of some way to get a better view. Geaxi said it was not necessary that we get any nearer, only that she be able to see him clearly.
“What do you want to do?” I asked.
Geaxi adjusted her beret and we both fought to keep our place. “Do you still carry those gold coins, those double eagles?” she asked.
“Yes, it’s a habit now. I have two in my pocket.”
“Give them to me.”
I handed her the double eagles and she turned and spoke in French to two reporters pushing against us from the back. In ten seconds, a deal had been struck. Geaxi gave one of the men one of the coins, then turned and said, “Follow me, young Zezen, and hop on.” The first reporter bent down enough to let Geaxi straddle his shoulders, then stood up. “Excellent view!” Geaxi said. The second reporter kneeled and I climbed on, the same as I had when I first rode on my papa’s shoulders to watch a baseball game, fifty-two years earlier. The man stood at the exact moment Lindbergh appeared in the hallway, surrounded by dignitaries and security. They helped him through the mass of reporters and photographers. Lindbergh walked quickly. The crowd kept shouting his name from all directions. He looked like a boy to me—a tall, shy boy caught in the middle of something he never imagined. He tried to thank the people as he passed, but there were too many. Shouts, praises, and questions from reporters filled the hallway and drowned everything else out.
I glanced at Geaxi. She was smiling. Lindbergh was thirty feet away now, almost out of sight. Geaxi closed her eyes, then opened her mouth and used “the Voice.” Without making a sound, she whispered, “
Lindbergh stopped abruptly and turned, looking back over the crowd. The people around him urged him on and kept him moving, but he glanced back twice before disappearing down the stairs and out of sight.
I looked at Geaxi. “Can you do that whenever you want?”
She grinned. “Yes,” she said. “However, until now I was not aware of it.” She tapped the reporter on the shoulder to let her down. I did the same. Geaxi gave the men the other double eagle and shook their hands, thanking them in medieval French. They seemed confused, but pleased about the money, and left speaking rapidly back and forth. Once they were gone, she said, “Tomorrow, young Zezen, we begin our search for Rune Balle.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t say
“You are attempting to be humorous, no?”
A month to the day passed and no sign of Rune Balle’s presence in Paris could be found, even though Captain B, or Antoine as he preferred to be called, had his extensive underground network combing every district in the city. Geaxi, Nova, and I usually went with him when he would rendezvous with informants. They all wondered if he had suddenly adopted grandchildren, but Antoine ignored their comments. Mitch and Mercy stayed with Emme while we made our rounds. Mitch and Emme had long discussions, sharing their separate memories of their father. By the end of the month, Mitch began talking about opening a club in Paris with Josephine as a partner. He even said he was going to learn to speak French. I reminded him that they didn’t play baseball in Paris and Mitch solved the problem by saying he would come home in the summers. Mercy and Emme became close friends and Mercy helped her with all the household chores. Emme was going to have her baby at any time and Mercy promised to stay with her through the ordeal. Antoine seemed nervous about becoming a father, but his happiness was self- evident. Emme never complained about anything and couldn’t wait to be a mother. Her eyes would dance and sparkle with delight at the thought of it. One night while we were sitting at the kitchen table, I told her I wished PoPo could be there with us. She rubbed her swollen belly and said, “Oh, but he is, Zianno, he is.”
On June 27, Geaxi and I were having lunch at a cafe in Montparnasse. Antoine and Nova had gone to see a stained-glass artist who lived a few blocks away and had once known Rune Balle.
“Before Nova returns, there is something we must discuss,” Geaxi said.
“What is it?”
“It is time for Nova to experience the Bitxileiho, the Strange Window. There is to be a total solar eclipse not far from Caitlin’s Ruby in two days. The path of the eclipse crosses Wales and northern England. I shall take Nova, but you should stay here to continue our search for Balle. If all goes well, we will be back in Paris by the first of August.”
I hadn’t thought of the Bitxileiho in years. I remembered the helplessness, the inability to move, and the cold terror of the infinite. The experience is unique to the Meq, but necessary for our “maturity.” It is also the place and state of mind where we cross in the Zeharkatu. However, because of her “visions,” for Nova the experience might prove dangerous or harmful.
“Do you think she’ll be…all right?” I asked.
“I do not know,” Geaxi answered. “It is a chance we must take. We may not have another opportunity for years.” Geaxi paused, then asked, “Do you agree, young Zezen?”
I didn’t like it, but I also knew its importance. “Yes, I agree. Have you contacted Willie?”
“Yes, he will be waiting for us in London. From there, we head straight for Giggleswick in northern England.”
I studied Geaxi’s eyes. She gave nothing away, as always, but I could tell she didn’t look forward to the event. “Good luck,” I said.
“Yes, well, let us hope we shall not need it.”
Antoine and Nova returned fifteen minutes later. They sat down with disappointed looks on their faces. The man they had gone to see was in Chartres and would not be back until August 1.
Geaxi turned to me and said, “Perfect.” Then she looked at Nova and said, “Nova, we need to talk.”
Early in the morning on June 29, a total eclipse of the sun passed through Wales and swept across North Yorkshire. There was only one place along its path where it was visible from the ground—Giggleswick. The weather before the eclipse had been miserable, but a sudden break in the clouds allowed witnesses there to experience twenty-four seconds of totality. Geaxi, Nova, and Willie observed and experienced it from the school grounds in Giggleswick, along with dozens of astronomers and photographers. In Paris, at about the same time, I was still asleep—and dreaming.
It was winter in St. Louis. I was in Sportsman’s Park, standing at home plate. The grandstands were empty and the entire field was covered in snow. Dressed in black, the umpire stood on the mound with his back to me, facing center field. I felt the bat in my hands, but I couldn’t see it. The umpire turned and stared at me. He wore a mask, which he removed slowly with one hand. But one mask only revealed another. A chill ran through me. He seemed to smile beneath the mask and threw the pitch at high velocity. I saw a sphere racing toward me. It was white, but it was not a baseball. It was a snowball, which then became a snowflake, spinning through space like a wheel with six spokes. I swung and everything went white. I woke up breathing hard and fast, as if I had been sprinting for my life.
When Geaxi and Nova returned to Paris two days later, I knew the instant I looked into Nova’s eyes that twenty-four seconds of totality had been enough time to affect her deeply. There was calmness, resolve, and
