noise.

He paused in the doorway and saw Moscalevitch and Flammio standing only a few feet from him, their backs to him. At the other corner of the store was the young kid.

Before Solly could say anything, Moscalevitch

spoke. "What do you mean, your fire? This is a bought

and paid-for job."

He and Flammio took a step forward.

"I don't want to hurt you," Solly Martin heard the boy say. It was a child's voice, too small and too thin to carry the threat that was in the words.

Flammio laughed.

"That's a gas," he said. "You hurt us? What are we gonna do with this creep, Moe?"

"I think we're gonna have to leave him here," Moscalevitch said.

Martin watched as the two men walked slowly toward the youth. The boy said again, "I'm warning you."

Flammio laughed again.

13

r

The boy spread his arms far out to his sides, as if he were planning to fly away.

If he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, Solly Martin would never have believed it.

The young boy put his arms out to his side, just as Flammio and Moscalevitch charged toward him.

Then the boy started to shine. Right before Martin's eyes, he started to shine, first giving off a faint blue glimmer as if a gas flame were surrounding his body. The glow grew in intensity, enveloping the thin young body like a spiritual aura. Moscalevitch and Flammio stopped charging. They stood rooted in the middle of the store, and then the boy pointed his arms and fingertips forward at the two men, and the blue aura surrounding him began to change in color. First, it turned violet, and then as the blue vanished, more redness appeared—more and more, brighter and brighter. Then there was an orange glow around the boy, the throbbing color of a poker heated in a coal fire, and it pained Solly's eyes to stare at it. But he continued to stare, and through the orange haze, he could see the boy's face, and the boy's eyes were narrowed and glinting, and his mouth was wide open and his teeth shone in a broad smile of pure joy.