Then I held it as close to my heart as I could, and howled in sorrow and triumph as my lost anger seared its way back into my soul.

The beast vanished from beneath me.

I collapsed to the floor, where I lay for a long time, weeping but whole, Saint Jonathan no longer.

“Not bad, kid,” said a deep, dear voice, once so familiar, now nearly forgotten. “Not bad at all.”

I looked up and saw my father smiling down at me, translucent and shimmering as Mrs. Hubbard had been.

I reached toward him, but he shook his head sadly and began to fade from sight. “Can’t do it, kid. I’m breaking the rules as it is. But I wanted to let you know you did good.”

“Don’t go! I need you!”

“I know. You always did. And I was never there.”

He shimmered back into view and stepped closer. Fearful, I started to draw back but forced myself to stay.

My father lifted his hand. I whimpered at the sight. How often when I was five, six, seven had I seen that hand rise like this to strike me? But there was no anger now, only deep, enduring sorrow as the memory of flesh came down to brush against my cheek.

I swiped at a tear, trying to hide it, too aware of how my tears had always stirred my father’s wrath.

“I always loved you, Jonathan,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I was just too dumb to say it.”

He put his arms around me, embracing me as I had embraced the creature, and though no touch could be felt it was as real as salt and as deep as love itself.

Then, before I could say a word, he was gone.

After a time I got to my feet.

Moving slowly, I walked toward the mirror’s frame. I glanced back only once.

There was nothing behind me.

Turning, I stepped through the black lacquer frame, back to where my own sweet, harsh world lay waiting.

Am I Blue?

IT STARTED the day Butch Carrigan decided I was interested in jumping his bones.

“You little fruit,” he snarled. “I’ll teach you to look at me!”

A moment or two later, he had given me my lesson.

I was still lying facedown in the puddle into which Butch had slammed me, as the culminating exercise of my learning experience, when I heard a clear voice exclaim, “Oh, my dear! That was nasty. Are you all right, Vince?”

Turning my head to my left, I saw a pair of brown Top-Siders topped by khaki pants. Given the muddy condition of the sidewalks, pants and shoes were both ridiculously clean.