A Coming Evil by Vivian Vande Velde

Author:Vivian Vande Velde
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt
Published: 2011-11-02T18:35:06+00:00

14.

Wednesday, September 4, 1940

For the first time, Lisette saw Gerard right away, without having to call him. In fact, he was waiting for her, crouched by the edge of the hill. Thankfully, it was the edge that she could see. His elbow was resting on knee, his chin on his hand, the picture of bored anticipation.

He stood as she approached and extended his hand to help her. But then he remembered and instead stepped out of her way. "Hello, Lisette." He gave that wonderful smile. "I am happy,"—she heard the slight break as he caught himself and shifted to the more modern pronoun—"you could come."

"And I'm happy to see you," she told him. "Have you been waiting long?"

"A day."

She raised her eyebrows, unsure if he was only acknowledging what she'd said previously, that she came once a day. But he continued, "This time I could feel the whole remainder of the day pass. And the night. And half the morning?"

"Just about," she agreed. "That isn't normal?"

He shook his head.

"I'm sorry I can't come more often," she told him.

"I understand. Thy aunt would not permit it."

"Your," she corrected.

Now he raised his eyebrows at her.

"Your aunt would not permit it," she explained.

"My aunt," Gerard said, "has not expressed an opinion. It is thy aunt who will not permit it." He kept a serious expression just long enough for her to wonder if he'd honestly misunderstood, then he smiled.

Lisette fought to keep her face from showing that her heart was breaking at the unfairness of his being dead. She sat down on the ground, fussing more than was necessary to make sure her dress covered her knees. It wasn't fair. He looked perfectly healthy. She could no longer see the background through him, and realized this had nothing to do with the light. If he'd looked like this that first day, she wouldn't have even guessed he was a ghost. Well, maybe she might have guessed, she had to admit. But she wouldn't have known.

Gerard sat crosslegged, facing her. "Thy—your," he said.

She nodded.

"Thine?"

"Yours."

He didn't speak the word, but she could see him try it out. Then he nodded.

Then a thought occurred to him. "Does everyone in your world talk as you do?"

"Well, no," she admitted. He looked startled, and she finished, "Only the people who speak French."

Again the flash of teeth as he smiled, then he said something totally unintelligible.

"What?"

The smile faded and he repeated the same gibberish.

"What?"

"Can you not hear me?" he asked, raising his voice, looking as though he was about to panic, no doubt remembering those first two days.

"I can hear you," Lisette assured him. "I just couldn't understand what you said."

"I said, that is why we have Latin,"—he was watching her as he translated and his voice got slower and fainter—"so everybody ... can understand ... everybody." He leaned back, looking at her quizzically. "You do not speak Latin?"

"No," she admitted.

"You seem educated."

"Well, thank you." She was insulted. After all, he was the one who couldn't read. "I'm only going to be starting to learn Latin this year.

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