Gene ordered him to stop at the foot of a cliff.
“Let’s get out here and go the rest of the way on foot.”
They began to walk along a narrow path that led to the top of the cliff. Before they had gone far, Gene realized he had forgotten the flashlight from the car. He went back, picked it up, and sat on the hood of the car for some time, staring out at the desert.
Chris is right; solitude does strange things to people. He’s behaving strangely, Paulo thought as he watched the youth down below.
But, a few seconds later, Gene had climbed the narrow path again, and they pushed on.
In forty minutes, with no great difficulty, they had reached the top. There was some sparse vegetation there, and Gene asked that they sit down facing north. His attitude, usually expansive, had changed—he seemed more distant, and looked as if he were concentrating hard.
“You’ve both come here in search of angels,” he said, sitting down at their side.
“That’s what I came for,” Paulo said. “And I know that you have spoken with one.”
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