I’d only seen Angel a few times over the entire summer between kindergarten and first grade. Once was in the supermarket, with our moms.
“Hi, Noah.”
“Hi, Angel.”
When my mom chatted with Mrs. Ramos for more than ten seconds, naturally, I got bored.
“Let’s go look at the waterfall in the produce section.”
“You stay right here, Noah.”
Another ten seconds went by.
“Mom, can I go pick out some ice cream?” I asked.
“In a minute, Noah.”
When the conversation continued after half a minute, I didn’t ask permission, but just took off, convincing Angel to follow me with only the tilt of my head. We ended over in frozen foods, where a four-foot tall wire box held a couple dozen big bouncy balls on sale for active little boys and girls on vacation from school. The balls came in a rainbow of c
