“Buster was Rant was Buddy. Chester was Chet was Dad. Irene was Mom was Reen. How folks lay claim to their loved ones is they give you a name of their own. They figure to label you as their property.”

“How folks lay claim to a loved one is they give you a name of their own. They figure to label you as their property.”

“How is it you are all here together?”Dad frowned as he gave Mom a pointed glance. “Your mother spotted Gavin in baggage claim . . . from clear across the room.”

“I know someone loves me from how they say my name. Like with my mom and dad, when they say "Benjamin" it's like my name is safe in their mouth.”

“Your name is Chet? Chet the Celestial Being?""Look," he says. "I don't need this.""Do you really think I'm becoming a vampire?""You are becoming a vampire. Within a few months, you'll be a killer." He moves to rise. "Damn," says Chet the Celestial Being. "I am unused to physical existence and my leg has fallen asleep.”

“Dad was on the porch, pacing back and forth in that uneven stride he had on account of having a gimp leg. When he saw, he let out a yelp of delight and started hobbling down the steps towards us. Mom came running out of the house. She sank down on her knees, clasped her hands in front of her, and started praying up to the heavens, thanking the Lord for delivering her children from the flood.It was she who had saved us, she declared, by staying up all night praying. "You get down on your knees and thank your guardian angel," she said. "And thank me, too."Helen and Buster got down and started praying with Mom, but I just stood there looking at them. The way I saw it. I was the one who'd saved us all, not Mom and not some guardian angel. No one was up in that cottonwood tree except the three of us. Dad came alongside me and put his arms around my shoulders."There weren't no guardian angel, Dad," I said. I started explaining how I'd gotten us to the cottonwood tree in time, figuring out how to switch places when our arms got tired and keeping Buster and Helen awake through the long night by quizzing them.Dad squeezed my shoulder. "Well, darling," he said, "maybe the angel was you.”