by R. J. Wolf
“I’m gonna go check the soccer results.” Anthony said excitedly as he stood up from the lunch table.
“I’ll go with you; maybe some soccer chicks will be there.” Mikey joined him.
Mit and Steve stayed back at lunch. Steve claimed to have devised an ingenious plan to convince Nickie’s friends to double date to the movies. He was gonna divulge the details after he finished his fifth slice of pizza.
“Well, good luck with that dude. But if it works don’t forget to include me.” Mikey yelled back to them.
The line in front of the gym was ridiculous. There were only thirty or so students who could possibly be on the list, but it seemed like the whole school had come to check it out. Anthony and Mikey squeezed to the front elbowing a of couple kids along the way.
Anthony scanned the list from top to bottom searching for his name. He nervously checked it again and again. A flood of depression overwhelmed him and he buried his face into his hands. As he turned to walk away Mikey yelled to him.
“Hey what’s this?”
Mikey plopped his finger on the middle of the list. Anthony turned around, his wide eyes scanning like a hawk. He gazed side to side until stopping on his name which seemed to stand out between Zach Yakunspenzy and Xavier Spenwell.
“I knew it was there all along,” he smiled.
Mikey grinned at him. Mit and Steve showed up just as the crowd was thinning. Steve was still shoveling pizza down his throat as Mit gawked at him in disgust.
“So what was his big plan?” Mikey asked.
“Ha! He forgot. After he ate the whole box of pizza, he forgot.” Mit stammered.
Anthony was still too overjoyed to pay any attention to what was going on. He’d managed to set up a date with Nickie, make the varsity soccer team and avoid a complete catastrophe. Now he just had to make it through the date without embarrassing himself.
The week zipped by. Friday came and went and before Anthony knew it he was sitting at the beach with the crew wasting the day away.
“What’s the point of having stupid wings if you can’t fly?” Steve pronounced quite matter of factly as he buried another Twinkie down his bottomless throat.
Anthony rolled his eyes and sighed. Mikey skipped rocks out across the water, wondering why he wasn’t surfing. The fall wind blew through the bay kicking up sand. Mit anxiously paced up and down the beach staring at Anthony.
“Look, there’s nobody here now. Give it a try.” Steve pleaded.
“Where, right here? Are you nuts?”
“There’s no one for miles, besides the sand has to be softer than bushes.”
Anthony looked back at Mit. Mit smiled at him then then shoved his thumb into the air. Steve grinned, waiting patiently as he unwrapped another Twinkie.
“Fine, whatever.” Anthony stammered.
He stormed off a few yards down the beach and took his shirt off. He rolled his shoulders backwards like a boxer getting ready for a match.
“Whew, let’s do it.” Steve screamed dropping his Twinkie and racing after him.
Trying to get his wings to come out when he wanted them too was almost as hard as flying. They were practically involuntary muscles that decided to act when they got good and ready. Anthony jumped up and down a bit wiggling his torso as he bounced. He sprinted down the beach, flapping his arms like a giant Emu or some other clumsy flightless bird. Mikey joined Steve and took a seat on the beach.
After thirty minutes of some very intense cardio, Anthony conceded and plopped onto the cool sand. Mikey let out a sigh and shook his head as Steve pouted, doing the best spoiled three year old impression they’d ever seen.
“This sucks!” Anthony screamed.
Defeated, he rolled over and buried his face in the sand, a decision he immediately regretted. He spit out sand and sat back up then a loud crack sent him back into the dirt.
“Ha!” Steve screamed pointing to the shiny leathery wings sticking out of Anthony’s back. “Commence with the show.”
A little annoyed, Anthony got to his feet and brushed off sand as his wings moved erratically. For the next ten minutes he tried unsuccessfully to get his wings to flap in unison. He could get his right side to move pretty regularly but his left side did more of a seizure thing, moving in short bursts then not at all.
“Maybe you need to run, you know take off like a plane,” Mit interjected.
Anthony shrugged and then got into a runners stance like a wide receiver. He took a deep breath and then sprinted off as fast as he could. After several runs up and down the beach, he looked to his friends for any other useful suggestions.
Steve and Mit were all out of tips. Mikey shrugged and made a hissing noise.
“Dude you’re too scared.” He looked at Anthony and shook his head.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s like surfing bro, it’s all or nothing. You’re running around like you know it’s not gonna work. Just jump like you really plan to fly.”
“Alright then.” Anthony smiled at him and then took off again in a full sprint. He leapt off of one foot throwing his hands in the air, resembling something between a ballerina and a wounded deer. He continued this attempt for another five minutes then started to pace about with his hands on his hips.
“This is stupid,” he shouted. “One more time then I’m going home and don’t bother me about it again.” He demanded starring directly at Steve.
Anthony walked a ways down the beach and then turned around. He took a deep breath and held it. With a loud grunt he darted off again through the sand.
Once his legs were moving at full speed he jumped into the air. He closed his eyes and thought of an eagle as he tried to make his wings flap. Suddenly, both of them buzzed in unison and Anthony was elevated thirty feet from the ground.
He opened his eyes as the rush of ocean scented wind swept by. A broad smile consumed his face and a nervous, joyful sensation ran down his spine. He felt a surge of power as he glided effortlessly through the air. Although he hadn’t gained that much altitude, the view while flying under his own power was overwhelming.
He flapped his wings again to go higher, but this time only one side decided to listen. The other wing wiggled helplessly, sending him into a barrel roll. He plummeted quickly, crashing into the packed wet sand landing face first at the water’s edge. Before he could lift his head Steve, Mit and Mikey were at his side.
“That was awesome!” Steve jumped up and down.
“You ok?” Mit asked with a concerned look on his face.
“Yeah,” Anthony said spitting out dirt.
As he lazily lifted his head and looked up, a pair of red tennis shoes came into view.
“Sticks!” Mikey screamed. “Um what…what are you doing here?”
Anthony jumped to his feet and scrambled to find his shirt. He pleaded for his wings to fold up into his back. One of them sucked in, but the other only made it halfway leaving a good two feet exposed. It wiggled and moved awkwardly in the wind.
Sticks looked like he was going to be sick. All the color left his face and sweat began to pour down his forehead. He made a shallow hissing noise then suddenly toppled over backwards.
“Such a fragile little thing,” Mikey laughed while shaking his head.
“This is serious man, he’s gonna tell someone.” Anthony said with fear in his eyes.
“Nah, just put your shirt on bro, we’ll tell him he’s crazy.” Mikey responded as he tossed Anthony a t-shirt.
Mikey walked towards Sticks and kicked him, then clapped his hands in his face. Sticks didn’t move; his body lay slumped over in the sand. After ten minutes with no response, Mikey decided to slap him and threw water in his face.
The burning sensation on his cheek brought Sticks back to reality. He could hear voices, but was unable to make out what they were saying. Mumbling and screams echoed in his ears and his best guess was that a girl was involved. He lazily opened his eyes and tried to focus. He could barely make out four shadowy fig
ures and then his memory and vision slowly started to return.
“Err, you’re um wings, what the…” Sticks panted
He wanted to scream help, but couldn’t muster up the energy so he simply sighed. His head was spinning and as fast as he could focus, everything became blurry again.
He could see Mit’s face come into focus, imploring him to remain still. He blinked rapidly and took a deep breath. His eyes found Anthony and he surveyed him intently, but the wings were gone.
“What…what is going on,” Sticks screamed loudly.
“You just got hit with a rock is what’s going on,” Mikey looked back at the others and smiled. “How are you feeling dude?”
Sticks stared hard at Anthony almost like he was looking through him.
“No, no, no, I saw him flying.” He said pointing a finger at Anthony.
Mikey started to laugh and everyone else joined in.
“Anthony flying, man that’s crazy. That rock really nailed you huh?”
“Rock! What are you talking about? Anthony was flying around like a vulture; I saw it with my own eyes.”
“Sticks, Anthony can’t fly dude. You’re talking crazy. Just think how that sounds bro.” Mikey looked at him with a stern face.
Sticks scratched his head. He could’ve sworn Anthony had wings when he saw him. He felt confused and still a bit dizzy.
“Well my head does hurt a bit.”
Anthony smiled and walked closer.
“Yeah, we thought you were dead for a minute,” he embellished.
Sticks started to stand up as Anthony offered him a hand. He looked around the beach still unsure of what he saw.
”I guess you flying does sound pretty crazy.” Sticks giggled.
Anthony laughed, and then jerked back as he felt a tingling sensation run up the length of his spine. He twitched a little and took a deep breath. Then, before he could do anything else, wings exploded from his back ripping through the shirt.
“I knew it,” Sticks pointed. He hopped up and down running in circles.
“Ok, ok, so I’ve got wings, you’re not crazy.” Anthony shook his head and started to back away.
Sticks looked at him for a second then smiled, and with an abnormally calm voice he spoke.
“Cool.”
“Cool? Cool?” Mit looked at Sticks then back at Anthony. “You ride to the beach and find out a friend of yours has wings and your response is cool. What is wrong with you? Shouldn’t you be running or something?”
“Why aren’t you running?” Sticks retorted.
“Because I um, I…well. Just shut up Sticks.”
“You can’t say a word to anyone. I mean anyone and definitely not Maxey.” Anthony grabbed his shoulders.
“Okay, okay just get off me.”
“Wait; let me get this right bro. None of this is shocking to you?” Mikey looked perplexed.
“Well, I mean yeah it’s crazy and all, but it’s not like he’s gonna eat me. Are you?”
Anthony smiled. “Nah, you’re safe.”
“So umm, what’s wrong with you?” Sticks asked.
Anthony jerked his head back like he had just been insulted. Then he looked at Sticks with a smile and they all started laughing.
“I guess something is wrong with me.”
“Well let’s see it, go ahead and fly,” Sticks smiled.
“Mit was right. What is wrong with you?” Anthony laughed. “Ok, I’ll give it another shot.”
Anthony took off down the beach at a jog and flapped his wings once. He felt the wind against his face for a second then found himself face down in the sand again. He could hear Sticks and Mikey laughing as they ran over.
“Guess they’re just for show,” Sticks laughed.
Anthony stood up and rubbed his aching back. He had enough flying for one day. His brain was pounding in his skull and for the first time his actual wings hurt.
“I’m done,” Anthony said brushing dirt from his hair.
Sticks swore he wouldn’t say a word and although Anthony wasn’t that sure, he had no choice but to trust him. Together they all started heading back to the neighborhood, Sticks included. He actually seemed to fit right in and had won Steve over when he offered him half of a donut out of his bag.
“This is pretty cool guys. A lot better than hanging out with Maxey.” Sticks laughed.
As they rounded the corner near Anthony’s house, a beige car appeared and pulled up behind them. They rode back onto the sidewalk so the car could pass, but it just putted along keeping them in front. The windows of the car were tinted so no light passed through and even the windshield had some kind of reflective coating on it.
Anthony looked back at the car and stopped. He squinted trying to make out anything through the shadowy windows. The engine revved and the car suddenly sped up and flew past them, the tires squealing as it swung around the corner.
“That was weird,” Mit said as he looked down the road, his eyes following the trail of the car.
“I think they go to our school. I saw that same car the other day outside at lunch.” Mikey said with a puzzled look on his face. Not thinking anything else of it, everyone headed home.
Anthony walked through the front door and the memory of his date with Nickie came flooding into his mind. The clock showed five-thirty and she was picking him up at six. He darted upstairs and dove into the shower. The hot water had barely hit his skin when his mom screamed from downstairs.
“Anthony, Nickie is here for you.”
He jumped at the sound of her voice and slipped on the slick floor tumbling backwards. He grabbed at the shower curtain as he fell and tore it off the rod. With a loud smack he landed flat on his back, the water still pouring down on his face.
Anthony rolled over wincing in agony and turned the water handle off. He slowly stood up and stepped out of the shower. He grabbed a pair of green board shorts from the counter and threw them on. His back was still sore from his flying attempts and a sharp tingle shot down his spine and he twitched.
His mom yelled for him again. He opened the door and yelled back to her and at the same time his wings burst from his back smacking into the wall with a thud. Anthony slammed the door in panic. He looked around the room as he frantically spun in place.
Suddenly the fall of footsteps caught his ear. He could hear his mother talking to Nickie as they made their way up the stairs. Panic took over and Anthony darted out onto the balcony still wearing nothing but board shorts. The sun was still beaming through the clouds like a spot light.
As the handle to his door turned, Anthony climbed onto the railing, took a deep breath and jumped. With one beat of his gigantic wings he soared into the air, effortlessly gliding over the houses. His room vanished behind him, just as Nickie and his mother stepped inside.
“Anthony?” His mother looked around the room clueless. “I’m sorry Nickie. I could’ve sworn I heard him call down.”
Nickie smiled.
“It’s okay Mrs. Dimair. He probably forgot.”
With puzzled faces they both headed back downstairs. Meanwhile, Anthony circled in the air smiling ear to ear. He felt limitless as his powerful wings carried him on the wind. He was finally connected. His wings moved instinctively predicting his decisions before he made them.
He banked hard and swung around completing a barrel roll. The salty wind whipped passed his face stingy his eyes. They watered making it hard to see. As he wiped at his face he lost his concentration and began to tumble through the air. He rolled in midflight catching glimpses of sky then grass then sky again until he landed hard, sliding through the dirt into someone’s front yard.
He jumped to his feet almost as soon as he’d hit the ground. He was exposed and his wings were flapping like a fish out of water.
Suddenly, the front door to the house opened and Anthony whipped around. To his surprise and relief, Mikey stepped out onto the front porch.
“Dude what are you doing?”
Anthony hadn’
t realized he crash landed right into Mikey’s front yard. He looked up at Mikey in shock.
“It’s a long story.” He stuttered. “I need to come in.” Anthony huffed rubbing his head and pulling grass out of his hair. Mikey raised an eyebrow then waved him in.
“Hurry up bro, I don’t need my neighbors seeing your little girl chest.”
X
MRS. CLARK’S SECRET
Anthony crouched low on the balcony hoping the banister would cover him. He peered down the dimly lit street at the beige town car that had been there for days. Mikey said he’d seen it at school, but Anthony was sure the car had been following him.
Maybe he was just being paranoid. He had no real reason to suspect anything, unless someone talked. He thought for a minute, he knew his close friends would die before they blabbed, but Sticks could’ve told.
“It couldn’t have been Sticks. He was there when we first saw the car.” Anthony whispered to himself.
For almost a week Anthony had been watching the beige car, trying to get a glimpse of who had been driving it. He’d almost given up when suddenly the trunk popped open. Up ahead a man limped towards the car looking around nervously.
Anthony got excited and sat up. He stared over the banister waiting for the man to come into the light. It was at this point that he realized the mysterious man was Mr. Clark. Well, not exactly Mr. Clark, a younger version of Mr. Clark. While Mr. Clark was pushing a century and a half, this guy was no more than fifty but looked just like him. He wore beige dress slacks and his shoes made a clicking noise as if they had been created for tap dancing.
“Ah!” Anthony screamed, immediately covering his mouth.
He dropped to the floor and prayed he wasn’t heard. He listened for what seemed like an eternity. There was an eerie silence to the night pierced only by the sound of crickets. Cautiously, he got back up to his knees and looked back over the railing. The young Mr. Clark was still there, loading moving boxes into the car.
His mind was spinning trying to piece together what had just happened. He was certain Mrs. Clark had killed her husband. The ambulance, the dead body, she’d even chased them off of her property. What was going on? Why was a young Mr. Clark standing down the street?
