[السسسيم]

I got up slowly and brushed the mud and weeds off the back of my jeans the best I could while she kept laughing.
"You know, it would probably be more humane for you to just dump me now," I said glumly. "It's not going to get any easier for me over time."
She took a few deep breaths, trying to get control of herself.
I sighed and started walking in the most path-like direction I could see.
Something caught the back of my sweater, and I smiled. I looked over my shoulder. She had a fistful of sweater, the same way she'd grabbed me outside the nurse's office.
"Where are you going, Beau?"
"Wasn't there a baseball game happening?"
"It's the other way."
I pivoted. "Okay."
She took my hand and we started walking slowly toward a dark patch of forest.
"I'm sorry I laughed."
"I would have laughed at me, too."
"No, I was just a little... agitated. I needed the catharsis."
We walked silently for a few seconds.
"At least tell me it worked—the mind-over-matter experiment."
"Well... I didn't get sick."
"Good, but...?"
"I wasn't thinking about... in the car. I was thinking about after."
She didn't say anything.
"I know I already apologized, but... sorry. Again. I will learn how to do better, I know—"
"Beau, stop. Please, you make me feel even more guilty when you apologize."
I looked down at her. We'd both stopped walking. "Why should you feel guilty?"
She laughed again, but this time there was an almost hysterical edge to her laugh. "Oh, indeed! Why should I feel guilty?"
The darkness in her eyes made me anxious. There was pain there, and I didn't know how to make it better. I put my hand against her cheek. "Edythe, I don't understand what you're saying."
She closed her eyes. "I just can't seem to stop putting you in danger. I think I'm in control of myself, and then it gets so close—I don't know how to not be this anymore." Eyes still closed, she gestured to herself. "My very existence puts you at risk. Sometimes I truly hate myself. I should be stronger, I should be able to—"
I moved my hand to cover her mouth. "Stop."
Her eyes opened. She peeled my hand off her mouth and placed it over her cheek again.
"I love you," she said. "It's a poor excuse for what I'm doing, but it's still true."
It was the first time she'd ever said she loved me—in so many words. Like she'd said this morning, it was different, hearing the words out loud.
"I love you," I told her when I'd caught my breath. "I don't want you to be anything other than what you are."
She sighed. "Now, be a good boy," she said, and stretched up on her tiptoes.
I held very still while she brushed her lips softly against mine.
We stared at each other for a minute.
"Baseball?" she asked.
"Baseball," I agreed much more confidently than I felt.
She took my hand and led me a few feet through the tall ferns and around a massive hemlock tree, and we were suddenly there, on the edge of an enormous clearing on the side of a mountain. It was twice the size of any baseball stadium.
All of the others were there. Earnest, Eleanor, and Royal were sitting on an outcropping of rock, maybe a hundred yards away. Much farther out I could see Jessamine and Archie standing at least a quarter of a mile apart. It was almost like they were pantomiming playing catch; I never saw any ball. It looked like Carine was marking bases, but that couldn't be right. The points were much too far apart.
When we walked into view, the three on the rocks stood. Earnest started toward us. Royal walked away, toward where Carine was setting up. Eleanor followed Earnest after a long look at Royal's back.
I was staring at Royal's back, too. It made me nervous.
"Was that you we heard before, Edythe?" Earnest asked.
"Sounded like a hyena choking to death," Eleanor added.
I smiled tentatively at Earnest. "That was her."
"Beau was being funny," Edythe explained.
Archie had left off his game of catch and was running toward us—it was like his feet never touched the ground. In half a heartbeat he was there, hurtling to a stop right in front of us.
"It's time," he announced.
The second he spoke, a deep rumble of thunder shook the forest behind us and then crashed westward toward town.
"Eerie, isn't it?" Eleanor said to me. When I turned to look at her, surprised that she was so casual with me, she winked.
"Let's go!" Archie took Eleanor's hand and they darted toward the oversized diamond. Archie almost... bounded—like a stag, but closer to the ground. Eleanor was just as fast and nearly as graceful, but she was something altogether different. Something that charged, not bounded.
"Are you ready for some ball?" Edythe asked, her eyes bright.
It was impossible not to be enthusiastic about something that clearly made her happy. "Go team!"
She laughed, quickly ran her fingers through my hair, then raced off after the other two. Her run was more aggressive than either of the others', like a cheetah to a gazelle—but still supple and heartbreakingly beautiful. She quickly caught up to and then passed the others.
"Shall we go watch?" Earnest asked in his soft tenor voice. I realized that I was staring openmouthed after them. I quickly reassembled my expression and nodded. Earnest kept a few feet farther away than was exactly normal for two people walking together, and I figured he was still being careful not to frighten me. He matched his stride to mine without seeming impatient at the pace.
"You don't play with them?" I asked.
"No, I prefer to referee. I like keeping them honest."
"Do they cheat?"
"Oh yes—and you should hear the arguments they get into! Actually, I hope you don't, you would think they were raised by a pack of wolves."
"You sound like my dad," I laughed.
He laughed, too. "Well, I do think of them as my children in most ways. I never could get over—" He broke off, and then took a deep breath. "Did Edythe tell you I lost my daughter?"
"Er, no," I murmured, stunned, scrambling to understand what lifetime he was remembering.
"My only child—my Grace. She died when she was barely two. It broke my heart—that's why I jumped off the cliff, you know," he added calmly.
"Oh, um, Edythe just said you fell...."
"Always so polite." Earnest smiled. "Edythe was the first of my new children. My second daughter. I've always thought of her that way—though she's older than I, in one way at least—and wondered if my Grace would have grown into such an amazing person." He looked at me and smiled warmly. "I'm so happy she's found you, Beau. She's been the odd man out for far too long. It's hurt me to see her alone."
"You don't mind, then?" I asked, hesitant again. "That I'm... all wrong for her?"
"No," he said thoughtfully. "You're what she wants. It will all work out, somehow." But his forehead creased with worry.
Another peal of thunder began.
Earnest stopped then; apparently, we'd reached the edge of the field. It looked as if they had formed teams. Edythe was far out in left field, Carine stood between the first and second bases, and Archie held the ball, positioned on the spot that must be the pitcher's mound.
Eleanor was swinging an aluminum bat; it whistled almost untraceably through the air. I waited for her to approach home plate, but then I realized, as she leaned into her stance, that she was already there—farther from the pitcher's mound than I would have thought possible. Jessamine stood several feet behind her, catching for the other team. Of course, none of them had gloves.
"All right," Earnest called in a clear voice, which I guessed even Edythe would hear, as far out as she was. "Batter up."
Archie stood straight, still as a statue. His style seemed to be stealth rather than an intimidating windup. He held the ball in both hands at his waist, and then, like the strike of a cobra, his right hand flicked out and the ball smacked into Jessamine's hand with a sound like a gunshot.
"Was that a strike?" I whispered to Earnest.
"If they don't hit it, it's a strike," he told me.
Jessamine hurled the ball back to Archie's waiting hand. He permitted himself a brief grin. And then his hand spun out again.
This time the bat somehow made it around in time to smash into the invisible ball. The crack of impact was shattering, thunderous; it echoed off the mountainside—I immediately understood the need for the storm.
I was barely able to follow the ball, shooting like a meteor above the field, flying deep into the surrounding forest.
"Home run," I muttered.
"Wait," Earnest said. He was listening intently, one hand raised. Eleanor was a blur around the bases, Carine shadowing her. I realized Edythe was missing.
"Out!" Earnest cried. I stared in disbelief as Edythe sprang from the fringe of the trees, ball in her upraised hand, her wide grin visible even to me.
"Eleanor hits the hardest," Earnest explained, "but Edythe runs the fastest."
It was like watching superheroes play. It was impossible to keep up with the speed at which the ball flew, the rate at which their bodies raced around the field.
I learned the other reason they waited for a thunderstorm to play when Jessamine, trying to avoid Edythe's infallible fielding, hit a ground ball toward Carine. Carine ran into the ball, and then raced Jessamine to first base. When they collided, the sound was like the crash of two massive falling boulders. I jumped up, afraid someone would be hurt, but they were both totally fine.
"Safe," Earnest called in a calm voice.
Eleanor's team was up by one—Royal managed to tear around the bases after tagging up on one of Eleanor's long flies—when Edythe caught the third out. She sprinted to my side, beaming with excitement.
"What do you think?" she asked.
"One thing's for sure, I'll never be able to sit through dull old Major League Baseball again."
"And it sounds like you did so much of that before," she laughed.
"I am a little disappointed," I teased.
"Why?"
"Well, it would be nice if I could find just one thing you didn't do better than everyone else on the planet."
She flashed her dimples, leaving me breathless.
"I'm up," she said, heading for the plate.
She played intelligently, keeping the ball low, out of the reach of Royal's always-ready hand in the outfield, gaining two bases like lightning before Eleanor could get the ball back in play. Carine knocked one so far out of the field—with a boom that hurt my ears—that she and Edythe both made it in. Archie slapped them high fives.
The score constantly changed as the game continued, and they razzed each other like street ballplayers as they took turns with the lead. Occasionally Earnest would call them to order. The thunder rumbled on, but we stayed dry, as Archie had predicted.
Carine was up to bat, Edythe catching, when Archie suddenly gasped. My eyes were on Edythe, as usual, and I saw her head snap up to look at him. Their eyes met and something flowed between them in half a second. She was at my side before the others could ask Archie what was wrong.
"Archie?" Earnest asked, tense.
"I didn't see," Archie whispered. "I couldn't tell."
They were all gathered in now.
Carine was calm, authoritative. "What is it, Archie?"
"They were traveling much quicker than I thought. I can see I had the perspective wrong before," he murmured.
Jessamine put her arm around him, her posture protective. "What changed?" she asked.
"They heard us playing, and it changed their path," Archie said, contrite, as if he felt responsible for whatever had happened.
Seven pairs of quick eyes flashed to my face and away.
"How soon?" Carine asked.
A look of intense concentration crossed his face.
"Less than five minutes. They're running—they want to play." He scowled.
"Can you make it?" Carine asked Edythe, her eyes flicking toward me again.
"No, not carrying—" She cut short. "Besides, the last thing we need is for them to catch the scent and start hunting."
"How many?" Eleanor asked Archie.
"Three."
"Three!" she scoffed. "Let them come." The long bands of muscle flexed down her arms.
For a split second that seemed much longer than it really was, Carine deliberated. Only Eleanor seemed relaxed; the rest stared at Carine's face, obviously anxious.
"Let's just continue the game," Carine finally decided. Her voice was cool and level. "Archie said they were simply curious."
The entire conference lasted only a few seconds, but I had listened carefully and thought I'd caught most of it. I couldn't hear what Earnest asked Edythe now with just an intense look. I only saw the slight shake of her head and the look of relief on his face.
"You catch, Earnest," she said. "I'll call it now."
She stood right next to me as the others returned to the field, all of their eyes sweeping the forest. Archie and Earnest seemed to orient themselves around where I stood.
I stated the obvious. "The others are coming now."
"Yes, stay very still, keep quiet, and don't move from my side, please." I could hear the stress in her voice, though she tried to hide it.
"That won't help," Archie murmured. "I could smell him across the field."
"I know," Edythe snapped.
Carine stood at the plate, and the others joined the game halfheartedly.
"What did Earnest ask you?" I whispered.
She hesitated a second before she answered. "Whether they were thirsty."
The seconds dragged by while the game progressed apathetically. No one dared to hit harder than a bunt, and Eleanor, Royal, and Jessamine hovered in the infield. Now and again, I was aware of Royal's eyes on me. They were expressionless, but something about the way he held his mouth made me sure he was angry.
Edythe paid no attention to the game at all, eyes and mind scanning the forest.
"I'm sorry, Beau," she muttered fiercely. "It was stupid, irresponsible, to expose you like this. I'm so sorry."
I heard her breath stop, and her eyes zeroed in on right field. She took a half-step, angling herself between me and what was coming. It made me start to panic, like I had before, imagining her between me and Royal—Edythe in danger. I was pretty sure whatever was coming now was worse than Royal