As the cop car leaves the driveway with Lindstrom in the back seat I stand before the boy who looks at me, an innocent smile adorning his face. The kid is downright angelic. How could I refuse him. "Would you like to come in?"
"That is very kind of you"" says the boy. His voice is light and gentle, just past the cusp of changing.
He sits in the left armchair. I am on the couch, flanked by Carl and Francois. Jeffrey is in the other armchair, and George has pulled up a chair from the dining room table next to him.
"How can we help you?" say I.
"Would you like something to drink?" says Carl. "Water, juice, coffee?"
"Water", says the boy. "I am rather thirsty." As Carl heads for the kitchen, the boy adds, "Could you possibly bring me an entire pitcher of water?"
"I could do that", replies Carl.
"How can we help you?" I repeat to the boy, who doesn't answer, or doesn't answer yet. He has curly, dark golden hair, and moss green eyes set in a lightly tanned face, a face that has absolutely no flaws or defects. He is dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans, his feet are wearing very simple sandals, no socks. There is something very familiar about him. I am sure I have known him before.
Carl returns with a glass jug full of water, and a glass.
"Bring more glasses", says the boy.
"More glasses?" says Carl.
"Yes. more glasses."and suddenly the water has turned the colour red. The water has been transformed into wine...
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