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  “I came here tonight to take something from you,” he mumbled.

  I could feel his breath against my neck, “You mean to steal from me?”

  “Yes, something like that, yes. Would you still say that you think I am a nice person; that I can be a good person?” He pulled back curious to hear what I had to say to this.

  “I would say that it is wrong to take things from people and that you shouldn’t.”

  “What if I can’t help myself, what if I can’t stop myself from,” he paused, “from taking.”

  It reminded me of something I had done a year or two before and I decided to tell him the story. I chose my most solemn voice, “When I was little,” he chuckled finding the humor in this declaration. I cleared my throat and began again, “When I was little, my mother brought some cheese home from the grocery store.”

  “Cheese?” this time he actually laughed. “You’re going to tell me a story about cheese?”

  I raised my eyebrows at him in disapproval for interrupting me even though I was happy to have made him smile, “She gave me a slice to try before she put it away in the refrigerator. I really liked it and couldn’t stop thinking about it. After dinner, while my parents were watching TV, I went into the kitchen and found the package of cheese. I ate slice after slice after slice; I couldn’t stop myself it was so good. I ate the whole package and put the wrapper in the trash so no one would know. I took my bath and I went to bed just like always. Later that night I woke up and was terribly sick to my stomach over and over again. It was the worst night of my life.”

  I looked up and saw that Michael was no longer smiling. He was looking very intently at me and encouraged me to finish my story.

  “My parents were very worried and started going through the apartment looking for whatever it was that I might have gotten into that had made me so sick. My mother found the wrapper and so I told my parents what I had done. I felt so much better afterward. Then they told me that it was alright and that they were happy that I told them the truth. They told me that the cheese is what had made me sick, that I simply ate too much. They explained that it is alright to have a little bit of something and to enjoy it but too much of anything can be very bad for you. They didn’t punish me but told me that I had learned my lesson and next time I would be stronger and better able to control myself because now I knew what could happen if I didn’t.”

  As I finished what I was saying I could tell that he was intrigued by what I had just told him, “Did you believe them? Do you think you are stronger now?”

  “Oh, yes, I know I am! Sometimes my mom bakes dozens of cookies and leaves them just within my reach but I never take them. I always ask and when I am allowed to have one, I only have one and, oh, it is so good," I paused in thought. "Sometimes if you haven’t had something for a very long time, then the next time you do it is better than you remember and it makes you want to wait and wait and wait so it will be even better the next time.”

  “But what if after waiting so long it makes you lose control again and you can’t stop after just a little bit.”

  “Have you ever taken too much, like I did with the cheese?”

  “Yes, many, many times; countless times,” I could see him searching his mind, recalling all the “countless times”.

  “I remember the time I ate the cheese and that helps me be strong. Maybe you have a memory that will help you stay strong.”

  He was smiling with wonder and as he sat there and the minutes passed I could tell that he was carefully considering all that I had said, “You are very wise, just like your mother.”

  I smiled, pleased with the idea that he had taken me so seriously.

  “Thank you for your story Elayna. I really enjoyed talking with you. Maybe the next time I am not feeling so strong I will try and think of you.”

  He stood up and stepped towards me. He kissed me on my cheek and as he pulled away I felt the invisible tendril again winding its way towards him. He moved to the open slider.

  “Goodbye Michael,” I called just as he was about to step out.

  He seemed surprised and shook his head, “You know my name?”

  “Just now, when you kissed me, then I knew it.”

  “Goodbye Elayna. I hope I can come and see you again sometime; when I am stronger.”

  I smiled, “I would like that,” I said, “I would like us to be friends.”

  “No one else could know,” his words were weighted with importance.

  I bit my lip hesitantly. I had never really had a secret or kept anything from my parents. “I understand.”

  “Promise,” he tilted his head.

  I concentrated “I promise,” and watched for the change in his expression to see if he had heard my thoughts again.

  He smiled in acknowledgement then stepped through the slider.

  Chapter 4

  The first few days after Michael’s visit I would lay awake as long as I possibly could hoping he would come again. Sometimes I would involuntarily fall asleep only to wake up suddenly and scan my room expecting to find him there. As the days became weeks and the weeks became months I began to consider the idea that it was all a dream. I was sure that I had met him that day at the mall but began to believe that when I went to sleep that night my mind took the memory of meeting Michael and ran away with it.

  A year slowly passed and I thought less and less of him until he had nearly fallen from my mind. I never forgot him but I didn’t remember Michael as well as I promised myself I would. It all came back to me, though, when he nudged me awake one night the following August and I heard his distinguished voice in my head as I drifted from sleep, “Happy Anniversary,” he said.

  “Michael!” I was fully awake as soon as I realized it was him.

  I scrambled from the covers, closed the door and flipped the light switch. He was sitting on my bed just as he had the night after we first met at the mall. He looked very much the same but I couldn’t help thinking that somehow he was a little different.

  “Happier,” I thought to myself and something else.

  “Stronger,” he slipped the word into my mind.

  I would like to have said “Peaceful,” but the expression didn’t immediately come to me. I wanted to run over and hug him but instead I did as I had before and propped my pillow and tucked my legs under the covers.

  “Happy Anniversary?” I asked.

  “It was a year ago today that we first met, at the mall, by the fountain.”

  “Only one year, Michael, it seems like forever!”

  “It does now but when you are my age a year will seem like a day.”

  I knew that wasn’t at all true but it didn’t matter, I was just happy that he remembered me and had come back to see me.

  “Have you been well?” he asked me.

  “Oh, yes, I have been very well. Have you been good Michael? Have you remembered yourself?” I was so excited my words came bubbling out.

  He looked away as he reflected on my question, “I have remembered you and that has helped me,” he paused, “to be good.”

  “I’m so glad that you are trying.”

  He turned back to me with a mischievous grin, “Would you like to come somewhere with me? I want to show you something.”

  “Right now?” I was excited by the idea but I knew that it would be very wrong.

  “We won’t go far,” he reassured me, both in word and thought, “in fact, we won’t even leave your building,” he reached for my hand.

  I fearfully looked toward my bedroom door, “What about my mom and dad?”

  “They are sleeping and I will hear them if they wake. If I promise that I can get you back before anyone notices you are gone, will you come with me?”

  I smiled and reached for his hand. He helped me down from my bed and we walked toward the slider together. I stopped midway and tucked my feet into a pair of slippers. I was still a little hesitant sneaking out like that and in my pajamas as well but Michael seemed very confident and
I was too curious wondering what he wanted to show me to think about the consequences.

  I noticed that it was very warm outside as Michael held back the blinds and I stepped through the sliding door. Once we were on the balcony he let go of my hand and squatted down with his back to me, “Hop up,” he said.

  At that point I was downright giddy with excitement and all my previous hesitation was lost. I wrapped my arms around his chest, careful not to choke him. I felt a little cooler then, pressed against his back. It reminded me of the feeling you get when you crawl beneath the sheets at the beginning of the night and they are crisp and cold wherever they touch your bare skin.

  “You’ll need to hold tighter than that,” he stole a glance over his shoulder at me.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, you won’t hurt me. I am going to need my arms to climb, so I won’t be able to hold you up. Have you got a good grip?”

  “Yes, Michael,” I nodded.

  He hopped onto the railing of my balcony and reached up to the floor of the balcony just above mine. He pulled us up to the next level and perched just on the outside edge of that balcony. He repeated this process a number of times and I grew more and more terrified with each floor we passed. I was desperate not to look down and clung to Michael with my eyes tightly closed until we reached the rooftop.

  The surface was flat and gravelly and I could hear it crunching beneath his feet as he took my hands and slipped me off his back, “Here we are.”

  I looked around wondering what it was that he wanted to show me, “I don’t see anything Michael.”

  It was very dark and I was having trouble seeing more than a few inches in front of me. I stretched out my hands and tried to find him.

  “Oh, sorry, I forgot myself. You can’t see that well in the dark, can you?”

  “No.”

  “Are you scared?”

  “Yes, Michael, very.”

  “Don’t be,” he cradled me up into his arms and walked to the corner of the roof and sat down with me on his lap. He stretched his legs out and adjusted me so that I was sitting on him like I would sit on a lounge chair with my legs stuck straight out on top of his. He put his hands down behind him and told me to lean back and look up at the sky.

  It all seemed very odd to me, sitting on the roof like that with Michael in the middle of the night and I was ready to tell him that I didn’t like it and that I wanted to go back to my room. “There,” he said and pointed to the sky.

  I followed with my eyes to where he was pointing and at first I didn’t see anything at all but as I continued to stare into the darkness something magical started to happen. Every minute or so I would see a shooting star sweep across the sky. I had never seen a shooting star before and I was absolutely awestruck that I had seen my very first.

  “Did you see?” Michael asked me.

  “I did,” I said nodding my head enthusiastically.

  “Keep watching, there will be more. It’s called the Perseid Meteor Shower. You can see it every year about this time and it’s best right now. People have been watching it for thousands of years if you can believe it.”

  “Thousands,” I said, “and I never saw it once.”

  “Its name comes from a Greek word; it means the sons of Perseus, or something like that. Perseus was the son of a god and a great hero. He defeated a terrible monster called the Kraken to save the woman he loved from being sacrificed.”

  I rolled my eyes in the dark, “That sounds very mushy.”

  “It is,” he laughed, “but it’s a good story, too. There are flying horses and one-eyed monsters, gods and goddesses, magic and mystery. You might like it someday.”

  “I already do.”

  “Oh?” There was a questioning tone in his voice.

  “I like it because you do.”

  I could not see his face in the dark but I hoped that he was smiling. We sat on the roof for quite some time and counted all the meteors (shooting stars I insisted) that we saw. After a while he sighed and told me that it was getting late and that we needed to get back inside. I was sad to have the night end but I was feeling very sleepy and readily agreed that it would be best if he brought me back.

  He walked me toward the edge of the roof and scooped me up, “it’s easier to get down than it is to get up.” He held me tightly to his chest and leapt all the way to the ground. I never had a chance to protest or tell him not to jump; it was over before I even realized what we had done. He just laughed and had me hop onto his back again for the quick climb to my balcony.

  “I hope you had a good time tonight,” Michael tucked me back into bed and pulled the covers up to my chin.

  “Oh, Michael, I had the best time! Thank you so much for coming to see me again.”

  He kissed me on the top of my head and spun to leave.

  “Wait,” I called to him, “when will you be back?”

  “Soon, Elayna, I will come see you again as soon as I can.”

  “I’ll miss you,” I hurriedly blurted out.

  He stopped midstride as though frozen in thought. “Here,” he said with a touch of pity. He came back and put his hands one on each side of my face and poured his gaze into mine. I felt an odd fuzziness creeping over my mind and wished over and over again that he would stop but I was unable to break free from whatever it was that he was doing to me. I saw the images from that night as though they were being rewound and painted over; covered up so that I wouldn’t be able to remember them.

  I reached for his hands to pull them away, “Please,” I whispered.

  He shook his head, “It’s better this way but I promise the next time I come back they will be there for you, just not until then. I’m so sorry,” he said.

  Chapter 5

  We began getting snow off and on that year around Thanksgiving and there was plenty to make it worthwhile to play outside after school. I had a friend named Erica who lived in the building next door. My mother picked me up after school one day. We had had a recent storm and as I got into the car I asked her if we could try and play with Erica when we got home.

  “I don’t have much to do, so I guess that would be alright.”

  When we pulled into the parking area I saw Erica exiting her building and waved to her as we drove by. She waved back and ran the length of the sidewalk to where we parked. Before I could unbuckle and get my door opened she was beside my window anxious to see if I could join her in the snow. My mom got out of the driver’s seat and said a quick “Hello,” to Erica before opening my door. I made a hasty escape from the backseat and told Erica that I just needed to get changed and I would be right out.

  I motioned my mom to hurry as she gathered a couple of grocery bags from the trunk of the car. After she let us in I quickly changed from my school clothes into play clothes. I wriggled into my snow pants and found my hat and gloves. My boots were on a mat by the door and I began the struggle to get them on. As my mom finished putting the groceries away she glanced over and saw that my efforts were not being rewarded. She came and helped me, twisting first one foot into a boot and then the other.

  Once I was all bundled up I asked if I could head down. “Sure, sweetie, I’ll be right out,” my mom opened the door for me and I scrambled down the hall and down the stairs rather than waiting for the elevator.

  Erica was standing idly by the front door waiting for me, “Do you want to go sledding?” she asked as soon as I got outside.

  “Sure but I have to wait for my mom, she said she would be right out.”

  While we waited for her we gathered up some of the fresh snow. We tried building a snowman but it was not sticky enough and we ended up with little more than a snow mound. We found some twigs for arms and scavenged the banks that the plows had piled up looking for something to use for eyes, a nose and a mouth. As we placed our pebbles my mom joined us.

  “Not very good snow, huh?” she asked.

  “No but can we try sledding?”

  “Sure, if it’s OK with Erica
’s mom. Would you mind running in and letting her know where we’ll be? I don’t want her to worry when she can’t see you here.”

  Erica and I went together and hurried back as soon as our permission to go sledding had been granted. My mom was waiting at the corner; she had my sled anticipating that Erica’s mom would be fine with the proposed activity.

  “C’mon, let’s go,” I grabbed my sled and egged Erica on into a run for the hill.

  There was not enough room for both of us to slide down at the same time so we took turns. I went first and while I pulled my sled behind me and started my trek back up Erica would come racing down. We formed a kind of circuit, down, back up, down again, repeat. My mom even took a trip or two. Eventually we wore ourselves out with process and we plopped down to take a little break. It was starting to get dark and I was feeling like I might have had enough. Besides, I was wet from all the snow and starting to feel cold and uncomfortable as well.

  Erica and I decided that it was time to head back, my mom couldn’t have agreed more and she helped both of us with our sleds. I chattered with Erica the short walk back to her building. She rang her buzzer and we waited until she was safely inside before my mother and I made our way back to our own building. I breathed a sigh of relief as we stepped out of the cold and couldn’t wait to get out of my snowy, damp clothes.

  Once we were inside the apartment and all my layers were peeled off my mom suggested that I take my shower to help me warm up before dinner. She promised a hot cocoa, as an after dinner treat and sent me on my way. She gathered up all my wet clothes and stuffed them into the washer so all the debris that they had collected wouldn’t make any more of a mess.

  My dad came home just as I finished getting dressed. “Early bath?” he asked me.

  “We went sledding.”