Broken Wings 2 - Midnight Flight

by Andrews, V. C.

  Of all the things they told us about Posy, the story about her inventing friends and speaking to invisible people lingered in my mind more than anything else for some reason. In the working silence, our subdued voices, the turning of pages, I could imagine a sweet, petite girl like Posy sitting beside us, cheering us up with her unyielding smile, her vision of everything through rose-​colored glasses, and her stories, her fantasies. Who cared if they were true or not? They gave us all hope and made us feel better about ourselves.

  Then she was plucked from our midst, stolen away because she helped us resist. Even though we had never met her, hearing about her like this put her into all our minds. I could sense it, and despite Gia's and Mindy's attempts to forget her, she was still here with them as well. In the end, hearing about her, listening to Gia's obvious affection for her and fear about what might have happened or be happening to her, appeared to mend the rift among us. Just a little while ago, we were at each other's throat in that room with Dr. Foreman. Now we sensed that we really didn't have anyone else but each other. Posy, even without Robin, Teal, and me ever having met her, gave us that, I thought. It was truly as if an invisible person stood with us, comforted us.

  After we completed our work, we were permitted some free time before dinner. M'Lady Two took our homework and test papers and in a threatening tone told us she was taking it all to Dr. Foreman, who would grade everything herself. Failure, we were to remember, meant demerits. No one said anything, but I could hear the same thoughts in a chorus. Piling threat after threat on us, waving fingers and sentencing us repeatedly to hard labor, lost its impact when it was done so often and so much. What's new? I thought, and so did the others. M'Lady Two must have remembered herself at our stage. I could see it in the disappointment she expressed in her smirk when we didn't look like we were shaking in our shoes.

  “Don't go anywhere you're not supposed to go,” she warned, and left.

  Where could we go? I thought. There were some shady places, and the breeze this late afternoon didn't feel as if it had been born in a furnace. Mindy, Gia, and Teal sat on what little grass there was under a tree. Robin and I went to look at the horses. We were told that it wouldn't be long before we would be brushing them down, cleaning their stalls, and feeding them, too. One of them, which Robin identified as a dark brown stallion, looked like he was dreaming of jumping the corral and galloping off toward those mountains in the distance.

  “We had two horses on my grandfather's farm,” Robin said. “He called them Buck and Babe. They weren't really riding horses, but when I was little, he would put me on either one and, holding the reins, lead me about. It was practically the only fun I had on that farm and one of the few times he acted like a real grandfather instead of a soldier in the army of God or something. I remember that sometimes I would catch him looking at me as if he expected to see Satan's face emerging out of mine. He expected me to do bad things. After all, I was mother darling's daughter. I guess he's happy now that he was right. It probably has made him even more of a fanatic. I pity my grandmother.”

  “What would happen if we got on the backs of some horses and rode out of here? You think we could ride to somewhere?”

  “Horses aren't camels,” Robin said. “They need water, too, and we wouldn't know which way to go.”

  “We're so damn trapped,” I muttered. “Maybe no better off than Posy if she is in that basement.” I glanced at the hacienda. The very thought of being a prisoner in the darkness below for so long put a chill through me, even in this heat.

  Natani emerged from the barn, saw us, but kept walking toward a water trough. Using a hose, he filled it. I glanced at Robin and then approached him.

  “Hello, Natani,” I said. He nodded. “I bet you have seen many girls like us come and go.”

  He nodded again, turned off the water, and began to wrap the hose neatly around its holder.

  “Are there any other girls here now?” I asked, eyeing Robin. “Besides the five of us, I mean?”

  He didn't answer. He tightened the faucet, then stood and looked out at the horses, who had lifted their heads and started toward the water trough.

  “I see only what I see. You must see only what you see, too,” he finally replied, and went back into the barn,

  “What's that mean? I see only what I see?” Robin asked.

  “I think he's afraid to say anything,” I said, nodding. I looked back at the house. “I don't know about you, but I'd like to find out if she's locked up down there.”

  “What for?” Robin folded her arms under her breasts. “What could we do about it anyway? We can't do anything for ourselves, much less for someone else. Forget about it. That's what he meant when he said see only what you see. Don't go looking for things you can't see. He didn't live as long as he's lived poking his nose into someone else's business.” She started away to join the other girls.

  I watched the horses drinking a moment, then followed Robin. Gia looked up when I sat. I could see Robin had told her I had spoken to Natani.

  “You're not playing with fire,” Gia said. “You're playing with TNT and I'm telling you now, we're not going to get blown up with you.”

  “Oh, let's stop talking about her. Let's just relax,” Teal said.

  It was difficult to let ourselves relax. I could see everyone had nerves as taut as tight guitar strings. The breeze, playing through us, sounded the same high-​pitched note. Gia lay with her eyes closed. Teal stared at the horizon, dreaming of floating out there, I'm sure. Robin had her head down, and Mindy played with blades of grass like a little girl, forming shapes. No one spoke. A door slammed and we all looked toward the house. The three buddies laughed at something, then got into the van and started away.

  “Where are they going?” I asked.

  “Wherever it is,” Teal said with some excitement seeping into her voice, “it's close enough for them to get there and back quickly enough. I knew there was someplace. I knew I wasn't imagining those lights.”

  “Forget it,” Gia said.

  “Why?” Teal asked.

  “It's nothing. It's an Indian trading post off the reservation. They can get magazines, candy, cigarettes, but not much else. There's nothing to do there and it's miles and miles this side of nowhere. This is the Mojave Desert.”

  “They have more than cigarettes,” Mindy said, her lips twisting.

  “How do you know?” I asked.

  She didn't reply.

  “Gia?”

  “We know. We heard them talking about it.”

  I stared at her and she looked away. “How did you hear them talking about it, Gia? Was that something you heard when you were in the basement?”

  “No.”

  “Then how?”

  “We just heard.”

  Mindy laughed and Gia threw her an angry look. She smiled and shook her head.

  “What else haven't you told us?” Robin asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh, tell them,” Mindy said.

  “So now you want me to talk, is that it, Mindy? You're no longer worried about being betrayed?”

  “It doesn't matter anymore, Gia. What else can they do to us that they haven't already done?”

  “They'll think of something.” After a moment Gia turned back to me. “One night, we went spying on them. We went around the rear of the hacienda and climbed up on the lower roof. We could look into their windows. We just wanted to see how well they lived, how nice their bedrooms were compared to our barn.”

  “And?”

  “We saw them partying.”

  Mindy laughed. “Partying?”

  “That's what it was,” Gia snapped. “They had some weed. Probably got it from some Indian or something. They were laughing and enjoying themselves.”

  “And they had a magazine with pictures of naked men.”

  “You're kidding!” Teal said, coming to life.

  “Does Dr. Foreman know?” Robin asked.

  “What do you think?” Gia repli
ed.

  “You could tell on them,” Teal said quickly. “Or threaten to tell on them.”

  “Oh, that would be terrific. Get them in trouble and that way they won't be as hard on us,” Gia mocked.

  “Well, I just thought . . . what do you think, Phoebe?”

  “I think I'd like to make friends with them and be invited to their bedrooms,” I quipped, and held my serious expression just long enough for them all to think I wasn't kidding. Then Gia laughed and the rest of them joined her.

  We were all quiet again.

  Teal stared down the gravel road. “I don't care if it only goes to an Indian store. It goes somewhere,” she said in a loud whisper.

  None of us disagreed. The shadows grew longer as the sun slid down toward the mountain. Everything that lived and spent its time in the daylight here surely gave thanks for the mountains, I thought. Funny, I realized, how I had never once thought to be grateful for anything in nature.

  Maybe I was not grateful for anything at all.

  Maybe that was why I was here.

  Broken Wings 2 - Midnight Flight

  Confession

  An the days that followed, we were given new chores, which included learning how to milk cows. We were then made to do that first thing in the morning instead of working in the garden, after we recited our morning chant, of course. Added to the milking of cows came the caring and feeding of the horses. Once again it was Teal who moaned and groaned the most, complaining about her callused hands, the odors, and the hard work. We were truly exhausted when the sun set, but we knew that didn't mean the end of our responsibilities.

  Dr. Foreman had given us all passing grades on our schoolwork, but then she added more and more to our assignments as if she was trying to see how much we could accomplish before crying “Uncle!” A new and more efficient and effective spirit of cooperation had been born among us, however, and Gia was smart. Robin commented that she was actually learning faster under Gia's tutoring and better than she had in regular school and I couldn't disagree. To our buddies' chagrin, we actually enjoyed working together. M'Lady One couldn't resist commenting, “Aren't you all turning into nerdy little goody-​goodies.”

  No one responded. We just kept working. I was afraid this new spirit of cooperation would be torn apart at the next group therapy session, but we didn't have another like that. Instead, Dr. Foreman began what she described as a new and more personal round of analysis and healing. She called us in one at a time, me being the last. When one of the previous four returned, I looked at her and waited in anticipation, hoping to hear something that might help me when I was summoned to see Dr. Foreman.

  However, whoever talked with Dr. Foreman returned in a cocoon built out of painful memories or fears and didn't want to speak. Gia was like that for days afterward, as was Mindy. Teal seemed sadder, more defeated, and Robin angrier. It was as if the invisible bonds that had grown among us were cut again. When it came my turn, I was truly frightened. What powers did she have? What would she do to me?

  The afternoon of my appointment, Natani was showing me how to groom a horse he called Wind Song. A quarter horse, he had a short back, muscular chest, and muscular hindquarters. The other girls weren't as interested as I was in horses, and I could see Natani liked that I was. The only time I had ever been close to a real horse before was when I had watched a parade in Atlanta.

  Natani was demonstrating how to use the hoof pick and telling me why it was important to remove the buildup of dirt and debris. Longtime exposure to bacteria could cause infections, he said, and stones could eventually cause bruising.

  Wind Song was patient and cooperative as though the horse understood what Natani was telling me and doing. When I commented about that, he nodded and said, “He does understand. Not words, but actions. That's how animals speak to each other and how we speak to them, by what we do, not by what we say.”

  “There can be no lies between us then,” I muttered.

  He smiled at me. “Yes, daughter of the sun, yes.”

  I was afraid when he handed me the pick, but soon I was doing it and Wind Song was just as calm as he was when Natani worked on him. Before I could finish, M'Lady One was at the door of the horse barn.

  “Dr. Foreman wants you,” she said. “Now!”

  “Can't I finish this first?”

  “No. It's time for your therapy.”

  Wind Song turned toward her as if he could feel my nervousness. He bared his teeth, snorted, and shook his head. Natani looked at me hard, but I'm sure it wasn't difficult to see the anxiety in my eyes.

  “In here,” he said, holding his hand over his heart, “is your hogan. No one can come in there unless you say yes.”

  “Move it, girl,” M'Lady One shouted.

  I handed the pick back to Natani and started out.

  “He's a crazy old loon,” M'Lady One muttered as we walked toward the house. “All that peyote has gone to his head and turned his brain into mashed potatoes. I don't know why Dr. Foreman keeps him here.”

  “Why are you here? Why do you want to do this rather than be out there with people, having fun, getting on with your life?” I dared ask her.

  "Why am I here? It's the least I can do for Dr. Fore-

  man. She's done so much for me. If you don't appreciate her yet, it's because you haven't improved enough. But don't worry,“ she said, smiling, ”you will. She has never failed yet with one of her wards."

  “Never?”

  “Never. It's just a matter of time. Longer for some than others maybe, but just a matter of time, so don't think you're anything special.”

  “You're improved?” I fired back at her. The smile flew off her face like a frightened bird lifting off a branch.

  “Yes, I am.” Her eyes were small and cold. “If you think I'm mean now, just imagine what I was and what I can be again if I have to be.”

  “If that's true,” I said, pausing to take off my shoes, “then you've really not changed, have you?”

  “Oh, you're so arrogant and smug. You're lucky you're going in there to therapy or I'd have you digging in the cesspool for that remark.”

  “Is that what you had to do?”

  I thought she would get angrier, maybe even come at me, but instead, she smiled. “Worse. Which is what you can look forward to, Phoebe bird. Now get in there, and if you're smart, which you're probably not, you'll keep your wisecracks to yourself and be very, very cooperative.”

  Holding that cold smile on her lips, she watched me go into the house.

  “Go into the office, Phoebe,” Dr. Foreman called from the dining room. She was speaking with the cook.

  I entered the office, but I didn't sit. Curious about what Gia had told us Dr. Foreman was doing with our case studies, I looked at some of the papers on her desk. That was a mistake, but not because she came in behind me and caught me doing it. It was a mistake because of what I saw.

  It was a letter faxed to my uncle Buster and aunt Mae Louise. The letter was from the doctor at the clinic where Mama was being treated.

  It began with the words, I'm sorry to inform you . . .

  I should have stopped reading. I should have backed away from the desk and pretended I had not seen the fax, but I didn't. I drew closer and picked it up and read... that Mrs. Elder passed away last night. We believe her last visitor brought her some bad crack cocaine, not that there is any good crack cocaine, and it had a dramatic and fatal effect on her heart. We have turned the information over to the police. Please accept our condolences and contact us concerning Mrs. Elder's remains as soon as possible.

  The letter seemed to float out of my fingers. It struck the edge of the desk and fell to the floor.

  “Pick that up immediately,” I heard Dr. Foreman say. She was standing behind me in the doorway.

  I looked at her, then did what she said.

  “Who do you think you are searching through papers on my desk?” she asked as she entered.

  “I didn't search through papers. I jus
t saw ...” I glanced at the paper again. I had a right to look at this anyway, I thought. This is about my mother, I told myself, and then it hit me harder, sharper, like a slap across my face. My father is gone and my mother is dead now, too. Even though Dr. Foreman hovered just behind me, I had to read it again to be sure I hadn't imagined it. Remains? It made it sound like leftovers. Send a doggie bag for what was left of Mrs. Elder.

  “Put that down and sit,” she commanded. I didn't move. “Sit!” she shouted, pointing at the chair. “Right now.”

  I put the letter on the desk, went to the hardwood chair she had facing her desk, and sat. She sat behind her desk and looked down at the letter from the clinic. She seemed to be reading it for the first time.

  “I was going to tell you about this myself, break it to you in a far more charitable and considerate fashion when I thought you were ready,” she said, her voice a little softer.

  I wondered if she was telling the truth. The paper had been at the center of her desk and turned so that anyone approaching from the doorway would see it immediately. According to the date on the letter, it had been sent out almost a week ago. How long had she had it? Did she get it the same day my aunt and uncle had? Why hadn't she told me immediately? Was she worried about what the news would do to me? Was she worried it would interfere with her efforts to change me? At the moment I was more curious about that than I was angry.

  “How does this information make you feel?” she asked, and sat forward as if any syllable I uttered would be earth-​shattering in importance.

  I shrugged and looked away. Why did she always keep the window curtains closed in this office? Was she afraid we would find something far more interesting to look at out there? My eyes drifted to the floor. Where was that grate Gia had described? Was anyone listening in on this conversation? Was Posy down there? I heard nothing, not a peep.