The Lamb and the Gray Battle

June 7, 2022

"Hey Evie," Brantley called out. "You want to go to Izzy's Diner?"

"I want to go," Dylan called behind him.

Brantley grunted. He had spent a month working up the courage to ask Evie out and now he had his kid brother tagging along.

Evie closed up the chicken coop. "Well, if Dylan's going, of course, I'll go."

Jo called from inside, "Don't get into any trouble."

"We won't," Evie called back, swaying with each stride across the lawn.

Brantley held the door open for Evie. He chose Izzy's for one reason. It was a liberal joint. They didn't have any portraits of Jesus on the wall, nor did it quote the Bible regarding bread. It had been one of Brantley's favorite places before college. The waitress who came over to the trio had blue hair and she had powdered herself to a ghastly white shade. She poured coffee for Brantley, but Dylan piped up, "I want Coke."

"Tea for me, please," Evie said. "By the way, I love your hair."

The waitress, Cashmere, squealed, "Yours too! What color is it?"

"Demon red." She halted. "Or dragon red." Evie giggled, "They're all so similar, I don't even remember. Red. Yours is pixie wings, isn't it?"

"You are so right. If you like changing your colors, you should go with cauldron purple."

Evie jerked back, her tongue out. "Not with my skin tone. But it would look great on you."

"That's the color I dyed it for the Harry Potter convention."

Dylan climbed up on his chair. "You went to the Harry Potter convention? The one in New York?"

That made news everywhere. PC allowed a Harry Potter convention in their Pure and Clean country. Children and teens dressed as witches and wizards brandished wands and robes. Caucasian guards stood at all the entrances and police held batons at the ready.

Cashmere said, "You want to see pictures?"

"You bet," he said, dashing after her.

Pretty soon Cashmere offered to take Dylan back to her apartment to see her swag.

"Dylan, no!" Brantley said, chasing after them. "We don't know her."

"Amythyst and I talked about hair color," Evie said, her hand on Brantley's wrist. "We've bonded."

Brantley said, "Her name is Sapphire."

"Cashmere," the waitress said.

Brantley added, "And she's working. She can't just take a kid to her apartment."

The Caucasian manager called from the counter, "Cashmere lives in Partridge Apartments right across the street. I'll help you if you need anything."

The diner was empty on that Tuesday afternoon. And somehow Brantley had been convinced by this towering girl with blood red hair that a complete stranger could abduct his baby brother in broad daylight. Brantley couldn't stop his lashes from flapping.

Evie said, "Cashmere isn't abducting him."

"My mom is going to kill me," he groaned, sitting down. Pretty soon, the manager came over with Evie's pancakes and Brantley's grilled Reuben.

Evie sauntered to the counter. Well, actually, Evie didn't really saunter. She was too tall and pudgy around the middle, but her nose was pointed and her blue eyes burned with fire. The blend of innocence and sexuality pricked his senses. She snatched a cookie from the case and presented it to him. It was like the manager didn't even see the little magpie with her prize. Brantley couldn't stop laughing. She waved the cookie in his face until he took it.

Brantley tilted his head, a smile permeating his heart. At first, Brantley refused to believe that Evie had graduated from high school. But now she seemed eternal, like a fire that couldn't be extinguished. And those red locks were deceptive. They moved even when the wind didn't blow.

"How old are you?"

"Rude much?" Evie said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "No girl admits to her real age."

"Oh come on," he said. It was one of the questions his mother didn't know. "Eighteen?"

Evie sat bolt straight, said, "I look eighteen?"

"I thought you were fourteen the first time I saw you."

Evie threw her hands over her mouth, the blast of her laughter fighting with her fingers.

She puckered her lips and batted her eyelashes. "Guess again."

Brantley was dizzy. Evie's smile made him sink in the booth seat and giggle. She had to be an elfin child, a changeling pretending to be a mortal girl.

"Are you going to college in the fall?"

Evie was hyperventilating, she was laughing so hard. Her cheeks flamed orange. "I can't believe you! You're as bad as your mother."

"What's so funny?"

"College is a waste of money."

Brantley batted his lashes until his mind cleared. He couldn't believe it and he said so.

She shrugged with one shoulder, like she didn't even care enough to lift both shoulders. "I've taken a few classes. It's worthwhile for some people, but not me. For a long time, I didn't even know what I wanted. I just want to make the world a better place."

Both shoulders pushed all the way up to her lobes.

She said, "I volunteer at St. Anthony's."

Which was what his mother said.