asked.
“No, she does not, but she has her own gift. They tell me that is how it is with twins a lot of the time, with this supersensory business.” Mrs. Twopenny had finally looked back up at us, now that the topic had turned away from Ruth.
Mrs. Twopenny rang the nurse’s button on her bed rail, and Mom and I looked at each other. “Are you worn out, Lila?” Mom asked. “We can leave.”
Mrs. Twopenny shook her head. A nurse’s voice broke over the intercom. “Lila, can we help you?”
“Yes,” she answered, looking at us pointedly. “My grandson is wandering around out there by the vending machines. Can you send him in?”
“Certainly.” The intercom clicked, and Mrs. Twopenny leaned toward us conspiratorially.
“Rennick has the same gift as Clara. I reckon it is hard to describe to y’all, but he’ll do a fine job.”
Mom gave me a look then. Of the why-haven’t-you-told-me-this variety.
Rennick came in and nodded hello, stood near Mrs. Twopenny, wearing his uniform of jeans and a T-shirt. The atmosphere in the room changed. It became thicker, closer.
Mrs. Twopenny noticed it and looked from Rennick to me as she introduced everyone.
“We know each other,” Rennick said to her.
Mom smiled. “Yes, pebbles at the window.”
“I was hoping, Renny, that you could explain the colors.”
“Well,” he said, eyeing me with a sheepish grin.
“They were asking about your Aunt Clara, and it sounds a tad loony coming from an old lady who happened to just cheat death.” Mrs. Twopenny giggled.
And it was contagious. I chuckled too, and Mom joined in. Rennick watched me closely, a smile on his face. But his eyes were serious.
He answered Mrs. Twopenny’s question. “I see auras around people.”
I glanced away from his gaze; so this explained the wall in the garage. I caught Mom nodding. She had taken in a lot in the past twenty-four hours. We all had. And if we were going to open the door to one miracle, could we shut it on another? Laugh at it? Discredit it? No, we were all joining the crazy party here.
I looked back at Rennick and nodded, hoping he’d go on.
“Specific colors mean specific things on people. Emotions. Character traits. Physical characteristics. There’s a lot of science to it. I’ve read a lot about it, studied. But it’s also an art.…” He became suddenly self-conscious, rubbing his palm across his jawline, giving an apologetic smile.
“What does blue mean?” I asked him, wondering why he had told me he saw the blue and whether it linked to the indigo lens in my episodes.
“Depends.” He gave me a look, considered.
“Rennick believes there’s a magic in electricity we are only learning about now.” Mrs. Twopenny’s eyes twinkled,and I saw in that look how much she admired him. Rennick cleared his throat, looked away nervously.
At that moment, we heard voices in the hallway, great, boisterous exclamations, and like a whirlwind a dark-haired, very pretty older woman blew into the room, along with a camera crew, a guy holding one of those boom mikes, and two other people, who both carried clipboards and looked somewhat official.
The dark-haired woman had already perched herself on the bed with Mrs. Twopenny and started talking a mile a minute. “Well, good day. Mrs. Twopenny, yes?” the woman said, but didn’t allow Mrs. Twopenny to answer. “They told me it was a ninety-year-old woman I’d be interviewing, but my goodness, do you look young.” Mrs. Twopenny clearly fell for the flattery, raising her hand to her cheek in mock humility. “Would you mind being on camera? Channel Thirteen News ?”
The woman paused now, and I put it together just as Mrs. Twopenny gasped. “You are Myrna Sawyer!”
More fake humility. “That I am!”
“My Clara is on TV too,” Mrs. Twopenny explained.
There were too many people vying for too little space in the room now. The boom mike poked me right in the face, so I took a step toward Rennick, hoping to slip
“No, she does not, but she has her own gift. They tell me that is how it is with twins a lot of the time, with this supersensory business.” Mrs. Twopenny had finally looked back up at us, now that the topic had turned away from Ruth.
Mrs. Twopenny rang the nurse’s button on her bed rail, and Mom and I looked at each other. “Are you worn out, Lila?” Mom asked. “We can leave.”
Mrs. Twopenny shook her head. A nurse’s voice broke over the intercom. “Lila, can we help you?”
“Yes,” she answered, looking at us pointedly. “My grandson is wandering around out there by the vending machines. Can you send him in?”
“Certainly.” The intercom clicked, and Mrs. Twopenny leaned toward us conspiratorially.
“Rennick has the same gift as Clara. I reckon it is hard to describe to y’all, but he’ll do a fine job.”
Mom gave me a look then. Of the why-haven’t-you-told-me-this variety.
Rennick came in and nodded hello, stood near Mrs. Twopenny, wearing his uniform of jeans and a T-shirt. The atmosphere in the room changed. It became thicker, closer.
Mrs. Twopenny noticed it and looked from Rennick to me as she introduced everyone.
“We know each other,” Rennick said to her.
Mom smiled. “Yes, pebbles at the window.”
“I was hoping, Renny, that you could explain the colors.”
“Well,” he said, eyeing me with a sheepish grin.
“They were asking about your Aunt Clara, and it sounds a tad loony coming from an old lady who happened to just cheat death.” Mrs. Twopenny giggled.
And it was contagious. I chuckled too, and Mom joined in. Rennick watched me closely, a smile on his face. But his eyes were serious.
He answered Mrs. Twopenny’s question. “I see auras around people.”
I glanced away from his gaze; so this explained the wall in the garage. I caught Mom nodding. She had taken in a lot in the past twenty-four hours. We all had. And if we were going to open the door to one miracle, could we shut it on another? Laugh at it? Discredit it? No, we were all joining the crazy party here.
I looked back at Rennick and nodded, hoping he’d go on.
“Specific colors mean specific things on people. Emotions. Character traits. Physical characteristics. There’s a lot of science to it. I’ve read a lot about it, studied. But it’s also an art.…” He became suddenly self-conscious, rubbing his palm across his jawline, giving an apologetic smile.
“What does blue mean?” I asked him, wondering why he had told me he saw the blue and whether it linked to the indigo lens in my episodes.
“Depends.” He gave me a look, considered.
“Rennick believes there’s a magic in electricity we are only learning about now.” Mrs. Twopenny’s eyes twinkled,and I saw in that look how much she admired him. Rennick cleared his throat, looked away nervously.
At that moment, we heard voices in the hallway, great, boisterous exclamations, and like a whirlwind a dark-haired, very pretty older woman blew into the room, along with a camera crew, a guy holding one of those boom mikes, and two other people, who both carried clipboards and looked somewhat official.
The dark-haired woman had already perched herself on the bed with Mrs. Twopenny and started talking a mile a minute. “Well, good day. Mrs. Twopenny, yes?” the woman said, but didn’t allow Mrs. Twopenny to answer. “They told me it was a ninety-year-old woman I’d be interviewing, but my goodness, do you look young.” Mrs. Twopenny clearly fell for the flattery, raising her hand to her cheek in mock humility. “Would you mind being on camera? Channel Thirteen News ?”
The woman paused now, and I put it together just as Mrs. Twopenny gasped. “You are Myrna Sawyer!”
More fake humility. “That I am!”
“My Clara is on TV too,” Mrs. Twopenny explained.
There were too many people vying for too little space in the room now. The boom mike poked me right in the face, so I took a step toward Rennick, hoping to slip
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