Uh, but Gazzy was fifty feet in the air, dive-bombing the pond again.
Total trotted off, sniffing for rabbits, and I looked at Angel.
“Angel?”
“Yeah?” She looked up, all blue-eyed innocence.
I felt stupid, but . . . “Can Total, um, talk?”
“Uh-huh,” Angel said casually, squeezing water out of her hair.
I stared at her. “He talks. Total talks, and you didn’t tell me?”
“Well . . .” Angel looked for him, saw he was pretty far away, and lowered her voice. “Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s actually not that interesting.”
I was nonplussed. My mouth was hanging open, and I shut it before I started catching flies. I turned to see the small dog trotting among the cattails and daylilies.
“Total?” I called. He looked up alertly, then ran over to me, small pink tongue hanging out.
“Total?” I said when he was close. “Can you talk?”
He flopped down on the grass, panting slightly. “Yeah. So?”
Jeezum. I mean, mutant weirdos are nothing new to me, you know? But a talking dog?
“Why didn’t you mention this before?” I asked him.
“It’s not like I lied about it,” said Total, reaching up with a hind leg to scratch behind one ear. “Between you and me, I’m still trying to get used to the whole flying-kid thing.”
32
That night I was lying awake in “my” bed, watching the moonlight create shadows on “my” walls, so I heard the door open almost silently.
“Max?” Angel’s whisper barely disturbed the air.
I sat up. “Yeah, sweetie?”
“I can’t sleep. Can I go fly around?” she asked.
I glanced at the clock. Almost midnight. The house was quiet and still. Except for the soft footsteps padding down the hall.
The Gasman put his head around my door.
“Max? I can’t sleep.”
“Okay, put your clothes on. Let’s go take advantage of the wide-open spaces.”
In the end we all went, including Total.
“I love flying!” he said, leaping into Iggy’s arms. “Just don’t drop me.”
It was glorious. Out here in the country, there were few lights, no planes, and, so far, no Erasers.
The air was crisp and cool, near forty degrees, and felt like liquid oxygen in our lungs. I swooped in huge arcs, catching wind currents, coasting, feeling almost weightless. It was times like this that I felt the most calm, the most normal. As if I were just a normal part of the world and I actually fit into it.
You do fit into it, Max, said the Voice. You’re part of everything, and everything is part of you. Everything should flow together. The more you resist, the more pain you’ll feel. The more you go with the flow, the more whole you’ll be.
I frowned. Was that a bumper sticker?