Chapter Seven

The weeks turned into months and the months turned into years. The days came when the boys would come for advice or just to talk about their day or adventures with friends as often as asking for stories. They usually came together, and while William would sometimes show up alone, Calder rarely visited without William. It surprised Angel, therefore, when he answered the knock at his door one afternoon in mid-August a few years later to find only Calder standing there.

"Where's William?" Angel asked as Calder stepped in. Calder shrugged.

"I think he's working on his science project with Colin. And actually, I don't have much time today either 'cause I have a project, too. I was just wondering… Well…I was wondering why-" Calder tried again, "I mean, we're older now, so…"

Angel noticed that Calder was looking anywhere but him.

"What do you want, Calder?" Angel asked.

Calder took a determined breath. "I want to fight vampires with you."

A corner of Angel's mouth twitched in amusement. "You think you're ready?"

"I know I am! I'm almost 13! You've told me story after story about how you've killed vampires and demons. I want to stop hearing about it and actually do it! I want to do some good in the world." Anyone else might have missed Calder's slight hesitation before his last sentence. Angel did not miss it. Nor did he miss the fact that Calder's gaze was suspiciously downward and his pulse had quickened.

"Hm. Convincing arguments." Angel put his hand to his chin, feigning careful consideration.

"Except the one where you won't be 13 for at least six months. And the one where you don't really care about doing some good in the world."

Calder head snapped up. "Yes I do!"

"Maybe so. But that's not why you want to fight." Angel dug his hands into his pockets, unconsciously assuming his Unmovable Stance. "If you deliberately look for excitement you will find it. But you will also probably get yourself killed."

"Which is why you can teach me how to fight! If I can defend myself-"

"-you'll think it's fun to go looking creatures to defend yourself from. I'm counting on the fact that you're not stupid enough to look for trouble you can't beat to keep you safe."

"You can keep me safe."

Angel shook his head. Calder crossed his arms in disappointment. "Will you ever teach me?"

"Maybe. It depends. There are other things you need to learn first."

"Like what?"

Angel remained silent in a way the Calder was used to; a way that meant that Angel was not going to say anymore on the subject.

Calder nodded in defeat. "Well," he said, "I gotta go…"

"Good luck on your project."

Calder gave the look that said, "Mm hm. Thanks…" and went home.

Calder gradually became scarcer after that, though Angel did not believe it was because he refused to teach the boy how to fight. Angel had noticed that Calder had become increasingly distant and disinterested over the past several weeks and he saw it only an indicator that Calder was growing apart from him—falling out of love with the idea of having Angel for a friend. It did not surprise Angel, and it only saddened him somewhat that the visits from the two excited, amusingly child-like boys seemed to be coming to an end, though he had known it must eventually.

In the meantime, William still showed up regularly, sometimes bringing a snack to eat (which Angel was fairly certain was Mrs. Cole's idea, so Angel wouldn't have to continually buy food for the boys), sometimes with Calder and sometimes not, sometimes with homework to do, and he would still absorb every word Angel said to him.

Calder's increased absence only began to concern Angel when William started to become quiet and more distant, as well. William never let on that he and Calder were not still best friends; when Calder did come over with William they were as jovial as ever with each other and William would occasionally bring stories of fun things he and Calder had done together over the past few days. However, based on William's somewhat melancholy moods and his slight reactions when Angel mentioned Calder's name, Angel eventually began to suspect that he was not the only one Calder was growing apart from.

Angel decided, as usual, to let William to be the one to bring it up if he wanted to talk about it, so he kept off the subject for a few weeks. One day, however, William came in a too obviously upset mood for Angel to pretend it did not exist.

"Hey," he said as William walked in, eyes on the floor, and sopping wet from the downpour of sleet outside. Angel sighed as he watched the puddle on his wood floor swell. "You know, I'm sure I've told you about the wonders of umbrellas before. It's not a myth: they work great and street vendors sell them on every corner."

Angel fetched a few towels: one for William, and one for the floor. Then Angel shooed him into the kitchen and prepared some milk for hot chocolate. William sat in silence at the table the whole time, just staring at the floor. It was this point when Angel became concerned: he couldn't remember a time William hadn't at least said hi to him, save for the few times he'd burst in sobbing too much to really say anything.

"What's wrong?" Angel asked, stirring the milk to keep it from burning. William shrugged. Angel let silence take the room. If William wanted to say something, he usually said it.

But he didn't say anything. The silence dragged on. Angel wondered if this was one of those pre-adolescent things where they want to say something, but don't want to be open to keep up the pretense that whatever it is, they can handle it.

"You sure?" Angel asked. William shifted. Angel turned back toward the milk, which was sufficiently hot, and busied himself with adding and mixing the chocolate, giving William time to decide if he wanted to say something. The silence continued all throughout Angel's preparation, after Angel set it on the table, and William had started to drink.

Finally, Angel spoke again. "You know, this could be a really boring visit if one of us doesn't say something."

William's eyes stayed on his mug.

Careful not to show his frustration, Angel said, "Alright, then. I'm not going to sit around in here doing nothing. I'll be reading if you need me." And he stood up and left the kitchen.

Scanning through the titles on one of his bookshelves, he picked out a volume to read and sat down. Several minutes later, William appeared at the kitchen door, his arms wrapped around himself. Angel did not look up. William hovered there a moment before speaking.

"I don't know if Calder's my friend anymore."

Angel closed his book and set it aside. He looked into William's eyes, inviting him to continue. William looked away and leaned protectively into the doorframe, but continued speaking.

"He's always with other kids at recess; they stand around and talk on the edge of the playground. He's never home anymore; he's always off with other friends who aren't my friends. He's too busy to come here with me. And…" William bit his lip and took a steadying breath, "…and he's not coming to my birthday party." William seemed to be trying not to cry. Angel was wondering how to best comfort a statement like that when William continued, "H-he bought me a present, but he said he was too busy to come to the party… We used to make sure to schedule our birthday parties on days the other one was free." Silence fell again while William's eyes shifted to Angel, around the room, and back to Angel.

Angel knew that it was his turn to speak. He glanced down at his fidgety hands as if they would spell out the words he needed. "I don't know if there's anything I can say to make you feel better, William." He paused. "Something I've learned from living so long is that people come and go through your life. Not even the immortal ones stay forever."

William nodded slightly. In retrospect, Angel thought he could have done better than that, so he added, "I'm sorry. But there will be others."

"But if they're going to leave, too, what's the point?"

Yup, Angel definitely could have done better. Even though he wasn't the best role model for this, having pushed away human contact after all his friends died and lived in relative seclusion until William came along, he felt that his 450+ years of wisdom were spectacularly failing to give him the words he needed.

"I didn't mean that everyone leaves you; I just meant that it's a passing thing, a cycle. Like life and death."

"But you're an immortal. Life and death don't mean much to you. It means a lot to the rest of us."

The statement temporarily silenced Angel. When had William's observations matured so much?

"Well…" Angel said, "I guess that's true, in a sense. Okay, bad example. I just meant…" Angel faltered. He didn't really want to say what he was thinking: that William would get over the loss and life would move on. He found it rather insensitive and probably not what William needed to hear.

"Have you ever lost any friends Angel?"

Angel glanced up. William was looking at him. "Yes."

"How?"

Angel sighed to himself. Which one to tell about? Images of all the people he'd ever loved or considered friends in his life circled through his mind, their respective stories coming in associated emotions. He looked back at William to stop the flow.

"They died."

"I mean before that."

Angel looked at him quizzically.

"Have any of them ever left you…and…and did they ever come back?"

Oh. Now Angel saw what he was getting at. "It might be a phase that Calder's going through," he confirmed. "Adolescence is confusing and scary and he might be dealing with it the wrong way. There's a chance he might come back to you. But people do grow apart." There was a pause. "Have you talked with him about this?"

William shook his head.

"You might want to. Just to find out."

"I think things are pretty clear…"

Angel looked down at his hands, then back up. "Even so."

William gave a small nod and quiet settled over the room again. The silence ensued for a few more minutes before William roused himself out of his thoughts, said he should be getting home for dinner, gathered his things, and opened the door to leave.

Angel stood at the door in farewell, holding it for William to walk through. William paused in the doorway. Without turning around he said quietly, "Thank you for being my friend, Angel." It was not a child's thank you.

"You're welcome." Angel replied.

That was about the time that Calder stopped coming altogether. William had taken up Angel's suggestion and tried to talk to Calder, and though Calder never actually said the words "we're not friends," the implications were clear enough to where, when the conversation was relayed to Angel, he privately agreed that Calder's circle of friends had changed entirely.

He did what he could to console William, though consolation was never a strong suit of Angel's. Angel distracted the boy with the story about the time he fought the dragon—one of William's favorites—and it seemed to help. Several weeks later William admitted that he wasn't sure he really wanted to be friends with Calder the way he was now, anyway. Angel heard little mention of him after that and life resumed to relative normalcy.

William came regularly, and Angel had a steady trickle of people knocking on his door wanting information or advice or connections. Occasionally, these two things would happen at the same time and Angel would send William off to the kitchen to do homework while Angel discussed magical and demonic options with his inquirers.

One such time in mid-December, Angel sent William to the kitchen when an elderly man came to the door with a request. The man wanted a certain elixir, but could no longer measure and mix accurately due to his Parkinson's, so he asked Angel to prepare it for him. Angel agreed and promised to have it ready for the following evening. Angel showed the man out, then looked toward the kitchen, pensive.

He retreated to the library and closed the door behind him. Sitting down as he tapped the broad gold ring on his left middle finger to wake the holographic projection of his Palm, he called the Cole flat with no small amount of apprehension.

A few minutes later he emerged and made his way to the kitchen, where he was met with a surprising technological sight: there was a holographic screen about the size of a small baking sheet hovering over Angel's kitchen table, and William was typing something on it. Holograms were not yet solid, so his fingers swirled through the light particles and somehow, the device knew just what he was trying to type. It still amazed Angel that he could do the same thing with one or two fingers on his Palm projected from his ring. Sometimes, Angel thought that technology was more magic than magic.

"Hey," Angel said when he was over his surprise.

"Hi," William replied without looking up. "I'm almost done."

Angel sat down and let William finish writing his last few sentences. Angel noticed the small tablet of William's Palm on the kitchen table underneath the hologram, so at least he knew where the projection came from, now. He'd had no idea the devices themselves could project holograms up into the air; it was even set at an ergonomic angle. Angel wondered if his could do that, too - it would be a much more convenient way to read the news in the morning.

William ended his paragraph, flicked his wrist at the Palm like dismissing a servant - projection flitting out after it displayed a brief Well Done! - and he slipped it into his bag.

"Can mine do that, too?" Angel asked.

"Do what?"

Angel made a gesture to show to the screen coming up out of the device, but without a Palm there anymore he quickly realized that he might be miming an explosion or standing up or perhaps a tree. Angel had always been bad at charades. "Project," he added, hopefully helpfully.

"Oh," William nodded. "Yeah, it should. Let me see."

Angel fished the device out of his back pocket and gave it to William, who set it on the table between them and reminded Angel that he had to turn it on. Angel touched the fingerprint sensor and the default welcome screen came on.

"You know you can change this…" William said.

Angel shrugged, hardly seeing the point.

William made a gesture over the screen with his right hand like gathering a string from the device and pulling it up. Angel's default welcome screen appeared in front of them in full baking-sheet-size glory.

"Oh my god," Angel said softly. He never got used to his technological world suddenly expanding.

William giggled.

"And I just…" Angel made the same dismissive flick William had done earlier and the projection disappeared. "Oh my god," he said again.

William laughed this time.

Angel tried the motion on his own, pulling the screen out and sending it away again. And then again for good measure. "I'll be damned," he muttered like the old man he was.

"For our next lesson I'll show you how to change your background," William told him.

Angel waved dismissively, picking up the Palm again to put in his pocket. "I know how to do that, I just don't bother," he told him.

William rolled his eyes lightly like Angel was a lost cause and leaned back in his chair. "So, everything good with that guy who came to see you? What'd he want?"

Oh, right. Angel had nearly forgotten. "An elixir," he replied. "He can't make it himself because of Parkinson's; wants me to do it for him." Angel paused, watching William. "I need some things from Ferguson's. What do you think about coming with me and then I'll take you home?"

William lit up with excitement. "Really? I can go with you?" Angel nodded, but William's face fell slightly. "But my mum-"

"-Agrees that something like this is pretty harmless." Angel decided not to add the thought that both he and Mrs. Cole shared: that magic, like alcohol, is best introduced under supervision. Though William never pressed the matter, it was obvious he was itching to dabble, and if it was going to happen, it should happen while Angel still held absolute authority.

Angel looked out the window. It was still late afternoon, but the sun had almost set. "Come on," Angel said. "Get your stuff together."

William followed Angel eagerly out of the kitchen, throwing on his jacket and slinging his bag over his shoulder as he went.

"I thought you said Ferguson's was a bad place to go for things."

"It's not great if you want accurate information," Angel agreed, putting on his own coat, "but I only need a few ingredients. Plus, it's really hard to mess up powdered birch bark…"

William gawked at the bell above the door as he followed Angel into the magic shop. An assortment of colors and smells bombarded his senses and he struggled to decide which way to look first. An ancient-looking Asian man in faded, worn, and stained military attire slept soundly in the corner behind the counter to William's right; his arms crossed and face occasionally twitching from dreams. A door opened at the far end of the shop and a somewhat-balding Asian man bounced through, beaming, his arms open wide.

"Welcome, wel- Oh." He faltered and his smile disappeared. His arms fell to his sides and he cleared his throat. "'Evening, Angel."

"No need to be so disappointed." Angel approached the man, who backed up a step.

"Not disappointed. I save my big welcomes for new customers; particularly the Christmas-shopping crowd. How can I help you?"

"Just picking up a few things."

"You know where they are." The man gestured to the shelves lining the walls. "And the lad?" But Angel was already making his way to the back of the shop, William close behind. He could hear the clerk mutter something in Korean as they disappeared down the aisle.

"Is he afraid of you?" William asked, wondering at the body language.

"A little."

"Why?"

Angel shrugged. "I intimidate some people. Can't imagine why, though." He gave William a half-smile and William grinned. He turned his attention to the shelves, staring at the strange things they passed. He occasionally asked what some things were used for and Angel gave short, direct answers as he picked out the things he needed. Once, William pointed to a tiny red ruby on a higher shelf and asked what a miniscule thing like that was used for. Angel's face darkened and he replied,

"Nothing you need to know about," and continued on. William stared a bit longer as it glittered happily at him.

It didn't take Angel long to find what he needed. Angel paid while William glanced through the books, then called William when he was ready to go. William emerged from the stacks as the back room door closed behind the clerk.

As they passed the old sleeping man in the corner on the way to the door, Angel said something casually to him in Korean that, based on the intonation, sounded like a question. William thought it was an odd thing to do, seeing as the man was sleeping, but to his surprise the man woke up with a start. Raising his fist in the air, the man shouted something fervently in response to the question, gave a haughty grunt, then replaced his arm across his chest and fell asleep again.

As the door closed behind them William turned to Angel.

"Does he do that a lot?"

"Every time."

William grinned. "You have got to teach me that!"