Read Sentinel of Heaven for Free Online

studied
her placidly, eyebrows arching.  She pressed her palm against her mouth for a
long moment, waited until she collected herself, and tried again.
    “I just...
what inspired you to start... housekeeping?”
    Leo swept his
hands in meandering circles, indicating with the sudsy brush in his hands his
own state of disarray and the remaining mess, which was surprisingly small.
    “Uh, indeed. 
Well, see if you can finish up soon – I'd like to try your bath before it
starts getting dark.”
    She stepped
back out onto the porch, lips pressed tight, and pulled the items out of the
plastic bag, laying them neatly on the old patio table.  Pants, body wash, hair
ties.
    An angel
is washing my kitchen floor.  On all fours.  Well, I'll be.  Another
unexpectedly nice view.  While we're waiting, then...
    She popped the
trunk and carefully lifted out the last bag, heavier than the rest. 
This
is going to be fun – now I've got to crawl back on the other side of the porch
through the brambles and hook this up.  By November the snakes should be
hibernating and all the insects should be dead, right?
    The sponges went
on the patio table with the rest of the purchases; the majority of the hose was
piled on the steps and soon she was carefully inching along on knuckles and
knees, trying not to move her back much, dragging the connector of the hose in
one hand.  There was a trial in trying to thread the adapter onto the dirt-crusted
spout of the spigot and then she had to throw her weight against the dial
before it would turn – but after a long moment the hose plumped up and she
could hear the water running.  Okay, then.
    Moira backed
out through the tall weeds, brushed off her hands and the front of her jeans,
then tested the spray attachment which generated a satisfying drizzle.  By
adjusting the settings she could create a directed jet, a fine mist, and even a
light fall that felt more like her shower-head.
    She was
playing with the mist, layering it out over her lawn and creating rainbows in
the afternoon sun (which
had
seemed to become warmer, as Jeffrey had
said) when she heard the kitchen door creak open.
    For the first
time since last night Leo was standing outside, completely upright, and with no
fear of where his wings would wind up.  Moira saw the relief on his face and
felt the twinge in her again. 
It's not right to keep him stuffed in those
tiny rooms, but what else is there?
    The wind
kicked up and stirred his hair; he smiled and turned to her, the last of her
frayed old towels in his proffered grip.
    “Aren't you
cold at all?”
    His smile
stayed but his eyes darkened with sorrow; he pointed upwards.
    It's colder up
there, in the sky.
    “Of course it
is... I should have realized.  Are you well enough – to go back yet?”  She
hated the sense of relief she got when he shook his head and tapped a fingertip
over where the knot in his scalp had been, then flattened his hand in front of
him and see-sawed it back and forth.
    “Your head...
can't you remember who you are?”
    He shrugged.
    “What
can
you remember?”
    A flip-flop of
his palm; a little of this, a little of that.  He stopped the line of inquiry
by pushing the towels into her free hand and affecting an intense interest in
the bottle of body wash, popping it open and sniffing it carefully.
    “I did the
same thing in the store; it seemed to be the least obnoxious of what they had. 
No – get out one of the sponges and pour it on that.”  She dumped the towels on
the bench and twisted the head of the sprayer.  “Go out into the yard and I'll
hose you down.”
    He’d walked
out a few paces when the hard direct stream hit him square in the back of the
head.  He looked back over his shoulder and fixed her with a glare of
mock-admonition.
    “Sorry!  Here,
just a minute.”  Hiding her smile she switched back to the shower setting and
blew it in his direction.  The very picture of long-suffering, Leo moved into
its path and filled up the