I’d flashed my panties at the Azalea Belles! Had they seen? Had everyone seen? Please no, please no, please! But the Belles were still smiling and waving, and the people beside me were still cheering. And on the other side of the street, they were all smiley and waving, too—except for one man.
He was really tall, his frown easy to see over the crowd, and his curly hair was so blond it reflected the sun in a strange way. He reminded me of a picture in Mimi’s big Bible—one of the scary ones with shining, winged angel-men swooping down over all the sinners frozen up to their eyeballs in Hell’s black ice.
My angels weren’t scary, but the ones in her Bible always looked that way to me. Like they didn’t care what happened to the people they were supposed to watch over. He turned in a slow circle and goose bumps prickled my sunburn.
I tugged Mimi’s skirt, but she kept waving at the Belles, their float nearly between the man and us.
What’s he doing? I blinked, but no sparkles. Angels? The man stopped. Is he bad? He turned his head toward our side of the street. Where are you? What is he . . . ? I squinted, but didn’t see angels.
“Mimi!” I yanked her arm. “Mimi! Mimi!”
“Lilith Ann! Stop th—”
“That man—”
“Don’t point!”
“He’s—”
“Manners!”
The float stopped in front of us, and I jumped to try and see over it. Where was he? What was he doing? The girls were waving at me, but I couldn’t see! And all the whistles and cheers were too loud! Why wouldn’t she just look?!
And then, even in all that noise, I heard my grandmother say something that would’ve gotten me a mouthful of soap. It just wasn’t fair.
Normal
He watched openly, but the knot of humans fretting for their espressos and no-foam-skinny-double-lattes did not react to his attention. By now, he preferred it that way. To most humans, he was as indiscernible as their own silvery fractals, while to him, humans were barely worth seeing compared to the gleaming forms in constant motion.
Like moonlight on streaming water, the fractals shimmered and reflected off their humans in an endless spectacle of individualism. Stepping free of their originators, most gestured in exasperation or walked away from the long line. Two opened insubstantial mouths as if to engage nearby humans in voiceless conversations, but as always, none of the fractals were cognizant of each other.
One impulsive fractal disregarded the drink being handed to its human and instead wrapped lucent fingers around a plate of pastry samples. Idly, he counted “one . . . two . . . ” before it faded away. Whatever mundane impetus prompted the separations, fractals never lasted long, always dissipating into nothing after barely more than a second.
Of course, that was not technically accurate. The humanesque energies transmuted into more than nothing. And sometimes it was more of a flicker, like a dancing flame sputtering its last burst of heat and light. But the familiar spectacle did not really interest him, so he turned his head toward the entrance and waited.
Within moments, the heavy door grated open and there she was. Fractals generated by two of the male patrons sauntered in her direction before vanishing—yet neither human did more than look at her. The variance in behaviors was understandable. While she had appealing features and proportions, there was something about her that communicated completeness. Like a closed circuit, the lift at the corner of her lips indicated a live current, but her unfocused gaze prevented a connection.
Her stance was equally neutral—body slightly angled toward the crowded room, but arms crossed in a self-protective gesture. For several seconds she maintained a boundary of personal space at the end of the jostling line; then, with a barely perceptible glance at her left shoulder, shifted forward to stand closer to the woman in front of her. Before he could wonder why, the door was thrust open again, and a desperate addict lurched across the threshold.
“Long line!” the red-faced man complained to her back, but nothing in her demeanor indicated that she had heard him. She did, however, seem to be aware of the man’s fractal, and twisted away as it leaned around her in search of the substance it craved.
Definitely noteworthy.
A seven-year-old child able to detect him among a crowd of people was a curiosity, but not without precedent. Children were often more aware than their conditioned guardians. Yet, for her to exhibit singular characteristics this far into her life span, he had to acknowledge the woman’s uniqueness; and, for the twelfth time in as many days, he wondered why he had waited so long to research her.
No. Lying to himself served no purpose. He knew why he had not. The true question was, what else had he overlooked by choosing to ignore her?
The line moved forward again, but as she settled back into her stillness, an iridescent fractal stepped from her body and faced him. Fascinated, he realized he had become the examinee as it studied him for several long, considering moments before disappearing.
✽✽✽
The guy in the gray sweater was getting on my nerves. Even from the corner of my eye, I could tell he was handsome, but seriously. Hadn’t his mother taught him not to stare? I’d never seen him in the coffee shop before, but it didn’t matter whether he was a wannabe stalker or my long-lost soulmate; I hated being stared at. And he was so obvious about it. I kept my crazy behind closed curtains, and his was just out there on the front porch for anyone to see.
Except no one else seemed to notice him at all. Amid the chaos of
