Sparrow Man

by M. R. Pritchard

Shit.

  “You really fucked up good this time, Sparrow.” He steps towards me.

  I hold my ground as he advances. He’s so tall that this is one of the few times when I ever have to look up to someone. It’s strange that he’s in the human realm. I glance around to make sure no one is watching us.

  “You really, really fucked this one up,” he continues, his voice low and threatening. “This was your chance to redeem yourself, get her on board, and now there she goes, running away from you.” He palms a fist and cracks his knuckles.

  Double shit.

  “I tried-”

  “You’ve almost failed. Again. The rules are simple.” He reaches out and flicks something off of my shirt. It’s an intimidating move but I stand straight and still, like the warrior I’m supposed to be. “I ought to banish you back to Hell for not keeping your pants on, boy. Of all the females available to you, you choose my daughter.”

  “You have hundreds of daughters,” I remind him. I remember that much.

  He laughs. “Not like this one. There was a reason why you were ordered to watch over her in the first place.” He palms his opposite fist and resumes cracking his knuckles. “You better fix this, Sparrow. She has a place and I need her in it. She’s the youngest. There will be no more from my bloodline.”

  “I-”

  “Fix it!” He takes a long blink and sighs. “And if she is the one you’ve chosen, perhaps you should ask for my blessing.”

  I clear my throat. “You mean, we can… I thought… It’s always been forbidden with humans.”

  “She’s not like the others. That was the reason for you guarding her in the first place, dumb-dumb.”

  Triple shit.

  “Why is she different from the others?”

  “You already found out who her mother is. That should explain it all.”

  “It doesn’t explain how she got here.”

  Meg’s father blinks at me. “She got here because her mother was a very stubborn woman, just like Meg. She wanted a different life for her daughter, one without monarchies and rules and rituals. That is why you were supposed to be guarding her in the first place. But you obviously got a little distracted. And now I see why.”

  I remember the photo of her mother. “But she doesn’t have wings?”

  “Neither do I. Unless I need them”

  “But… that would make her pure-”

  “Seriously, Sparrow, I know you were supposed to be one of our best, but I think taking your memories damaged your brain.” He moves his index finger in front of my face. “Let me help you a bit. Listening to your blubbering is extremely annoying.” He flicks the top of my forehead, hard. “You can thank me later.”

  I press my hands to the sides of my head, feeling it ache as memories rush me. “Okay.”

  “Sparrow, you forgot to ask.”

  “Ask wha... Oh. May I have your blessing?” One dark eyebrow rises on his face. “Sir?” I add.

  He leans down, the tip of his nose almost touching mine. “You fuck up again, the only thing you’ll get is a lifetime in Hell and I won’t let her get you out of there again. Now, get her back on course, stop letting her flash back here, and get her ass to Jim so she can remember who she really is.”

  “She’s given up already, Sir. Was ready to drop in the road and let the dead have her.”

  “She can do this. She’s strong. She just needs to see it in her heart.” He lays his open palm on his chest. “She has to see that all those people were wrong about her and feel it, right here. If she doesn’t see the good, we can’t release either of you.” He points in the direction Meg ran. “Go fix this, yesterday.”

  “Yes, Sir.” I stand there awkwardly for a moment.

  “Get the hell out of here and go after her already!”

  I run in the direction that Meg ran, hearing the voice behind me say, “You have my blessing.”

  …….

  Meg

  Chest burning, I stop running, pace a few steps, try to sort everything out in my head, but all I can hear are the people talking, children laughing, noise from the animals, and the smells. My stomach feels like it’s going to crawl out of my abdomen. I’m so hungry and all I smell is candy apples and popcorn and pretzels. I stop in front of a stand selling fried dough.

  “Can I help you, Miss?” a middle-aged man in an apron asks me.

  I lick my lips, remembering the lonely nights feasting on rats, the meals Sparrow and I have pieced together. None of it filling the void and none of it smelling as good as this fried dough does right now.

  “Would you like an order?” the man asks.

  I nod my head. “Yes…” I look around me. Feel my pockets. Shit, I don’t have pockets in this skirt and no cash in this purse. “It seems I don’t have any cash on me.” I turn seeing Sparrow headed my way. “But my husband is on his way,” I lie, pointing behind me. “That handsome devil with the green eyes who needs a haircut. He’ll pay for it. Promise.” I give the sweetest smile I can muster.

  “You want sugar or cinnamon?” the man asks.

  I decide to be greedy. Who am I kidding, I’m always greedy. “Both,” I tell him. I grab a few napkins and watch as he pulls a large piece of dough from the fryer and sprinkles the sugar and cinnamon on it. He sets the dough on a plate and hands it across the counter to me.

  “Thanks.” I take it and walk as fast as I can to a bench that’s hidden behind a cart selling toys. That was easier than stealing candy and condoms from the Country Store back home.

  Peeking out from behind the cart, I watch as the man at the dough stand points in the direction I went. He’s talking to a younger version of himself who’s also wearing an apron. I take a giant bite of the dough and watch while they argue. Sparrow walks right by them and they don’t even notice him. I wonder if the man is blind? I eat the dough. All of it. When I am done, my stomach grumbles, wanting more.

  Sparrow walks towards me, a look of disbelief on his face. “What the heck was that?” he asks.

  “I was hungry.”

  “Have I ever let you starve? You could have said something to me.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, was it worth it? Lying and stealing.”

  “It was fucking delicious.” I lick the sugar off of my fingers as his gaze darkens on me. “I’ve decided.” I pause to clean another finger. “I like you, Sparrow. Even with all the bullshit that has happened. I’m willing to finish this with you.” I circle a clean finger in the air. “Whatever the hell this is that we are doing. Because, well, frankly, I have nothing better to do right now. And your price to pay was the fried dough. I don’t know what went through me in the road back there. Maybe my blood sugar was low, but it’s good now. So whatever it is we need to do, we can finish it, here, where it’s normal. I’m not going back there to Hell.”

  Sparrow sighs. “We have to go back there.”

  “No. I can’t. I won’t.”

  “There’s still unfinished business, Meg.”

  “But why can’t we stay here? It’s nice here. Everything is normal. The sun is brighter. No one’s dead. And there’s delicious food.”

  “We have to finish what we started. We have to finish searching for answers. That’s what we were doing. It’s important, Meg. Very important.”

  “I can’t.” Sparrow kneels in front of me. “What are you doing?” I ask. “People are watching. They’re going to think you’re weird.” Looking around I notice I’m wrong, no one’s watching. It’s like we’re invisible, or Sparrow is.

  “I don’t care what they think.” Sparrow moves the empty plate coated with grease and sugar off of my lap.

  A huge man walks by us, his eyes as blue as the sky. He clears his throat loudly. Sparrow’s back straightens as though someone kicked him. The man winks at me and waltzes off.

  “Who the hell was that?” I focus behind Sparrow and watch the tall man walk away.

  “Your real father.”

  I try to stand, wanting to run after him and grab on
to him and ask him what all this is about. But Sparrow grips my hands and presses them to my legs so I can’t stand. The man disappears into the crowd.

  “Not yet,” he tells me.

  “Who is he?” I ask.

  “I can’t tell you. Not yet. That is what he said. You have to find who you are.” Sparrow presses his hand to my chest. “Here.”

  I look down at Sparrow. There’s a red mark on his forehead like someone hit him there and absolutely no confusion left in his eyes. “You remember, don’t you?”

  “Yes. I remember now. All of it. Your father, your real father, he gave me back my memories.”

  “And?”

  “This is my fault.”

  “How can it be your fault?”

  His eyes bore into mine. “Trust me. It is. I’m so sorry that I lost you, that I-”

  “But… I’ve never met you before. You haven’t lost me.”

  “This was before. When you were a baby.”

  “How-”

  “I was entrusted with guarding your mother and her child. Let’s just say I failed. I failed miserably.”

  Ever since I met Sparrow, and all we’ve been through these past few weeks together, he’s been there for me, always. Each time I have needed him, he’s been there to help me, to rescue me, to guide me through all the memories of everything that happened to me. We’ve been there for each other. And a tiny part of me thinks that I should be mad at him, but I can’t find the anger because I’ve never felt like this with another person at my side. I’ve never felt so… so complete. Something clicks inside me.

  Sparrow sits back on his heels, his shoulders slump. “I’m so-”

  I press a finger to his lips, silencing him. “I don’t care. I don’t care about any of that. I spent my whole life listening to people call me names and treat me like crap, and when I really think about it, you’re the only person who’s ever treated me differently. You were there for me when I needed you. I don’t care that you failed in the past. I only care that you are by my side. I think I can do this, whatever it is I need to do. I can do this forever with you here, just like this. I just don’t want to go back to Hell.”

  He tips his head, leans forward and presses his forehead to mine. “I’ll never leave you alone again. I promise.”

  “How am I supposed to know if this is real?” I whisper, feeling his solid body pressing against my thighs.

  “It’s all real.”

  “Is this still about believing in God?”

  “No. Not right now.” He shakes his head. “It’s about you and me. We’re almost done. We have to go back, Meg. This one last time. We have to get answers from Jim. And then… then we’ll be free. We won’t have to go back there anymore.” He rests his palms on both sides of my face.

  “Jim was a dick. I don’t want to see him again.”

  “I know. But I’ll be there, by your side. I’ll never leave you, ever again.”

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  Sparrow leans, pressing his lips to mine in a soft kiss, and another, and another, until I barely hear him when he whispers the words and runs his thumb over the mark on my leg.

  ……

  This time, when my eyes open, I am greeted by the feeling of a large hand wrapped around my throat. Trying to speak, I can only get out a gurgle.

  “Dumb shits,” I hear the familiar voice of my father, or ex-father, the demon-thing, John Lewis.

  I tip my head to see he holds Sparrow the same way. Hand around his throat, arms in the air. My feet dangle as I try to kick them. I try to kick him. Sparrow struggles. It seems with my father’s reincarnation he has developed some super strength and size. He’s huge.

  I try to kick harder, but he just laughs and jerks us by our necks, cracking the backs of our skulls together as though we were a set of cymbals. I hear Sparrow groan as everything goes black behind my eyes.

  …

  “Hey, Meg,” someone whispers in my ear while trailing a finger down the side of my cheek. “Wake up, my sweet little angel.”

  That voice, it’s so familiar. It’s the same voice that greeted me at that party when I was in college, the same voice that whispered in my ear as he stripped my clothes off of me that night. The same voice that told me we were going back home to be a family. The same voice that told those seven men that I was the target. It’s not a nice voice, not a snowy owl voice. It’s a voice that only ever says bad things to me.

  It’s fucking Jim.

  My eyes flick open to find him standing in front of me. Smirk on his face, eyes as gray as a storm, he swipes at the thick strands of blonde hair across his forehead.

  “Get the hell away from me.” I try to move but find that I can’t. My arms ache like never before. Looking up I find that they are secured above me, my wrists wrapped in metal, chains dangling from the ceiling. A quick glance around tells me that I am in some kind of a cave, with torches lighting the large room.

  “Now, this is how I’ve dreamed of seeing you, Meg,” Jim continues. “Chained up just like you belong, shouting dirty words at me. You always had quite the mouth on you.” He reaches out, snaking his fingers down my throat, between my breasts, settling on the waist of my jeans before leaning forward and kissing me hard, pressing my lips against my teeth so hard I can feel blood in my mouth. I might have welcomed the touch and the kiss, if I hadn’t already remembered what he did to me.

  I pull my head back and thrust it forward in one hard jerk, bouncing my skull off of his. “Asshole!” Jim staggers back a few feet.

  “You bitch,” Jim spits. The back of his hand slaps me hard across the side of my face and I swear I hear my teeth rattle.

  The realization comes to me right then, this isn’t the first time Jim’s hit me. There have been others, plenty of others. I must’ve tucked those memories away, way in the back of my mind. Now they come flooding forward. I let my head hang down as I remember every single backhand he gave me: after burning dinner, forgetting to give him my gas receipt, folding his laundry wrong, when the hanging flower baskets wilted because I forgot to water them one day. It didn’t matter that I was pregnant, he still hit me.

  As I hang there, I hate myself for not getting away from him, for telling myself it’s what I deserved. After all, that’s what my father had told me my entire life and I had already spent all my money on the house and the cabin in Canada. I couldn’t raise a baby on my own. I remember telling myself that.

  “That’s better.” He straightens his back, rolls his shoulders, and adjusts his shirt. “’Bout time you learned your place.”

  I look across the room to find Sparrow lying on the floor, unconscious. Jim laughs. I look away from Sparrow, trying to keep the focus on me. “I searched for you. The Safe House couldn’t find you. Trekked all over the state. That was before I remembered what you did to me.”

  “Those places are only for the lost souls who want to repent, for another chance to fly up to Heaven. I know better than to step foot in one of those places. I’d burn in one of those prisons.” Jim tells me.

  “Why did you do this? I thought…” I shake my head. “You asked me to marry you. I was pregnant with your child.”

  “Was it really mine, Meg? I mean, you are quite the slut.”

  I close my eyes, tilt my head, focus on the feeling of the metal cutting into the skin of my wrists, the fact that my feet are barely touching the floor right now. “The baby was yours.” I open my eyes to find him grinning in front of me.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Whatever.” I give up that argument. It seems like there’s no point now that the baby is dead.

  “Did he tell you what you can do?”

  “He doesn’t know anything and he can’t do anything, besides sing Bon Jovi.”

  “Nice try. But word down here is that you can travel back and forth between realms, without the portal. You should really keep those tricks in your pocket and say, not practice them in the middle of the street. Word travels fast down here. Wicke
d fast.” He chuckles. “You know why you keep flitting back and forth between Hell and the earthen plane?”

  “If I knew, then I get the feeling I wouldn’t be strung up in your little cave right now.”

  Jim raises his hand but this time I don’t flinch, I simply glare at him.

  “Hmm.” Jim wanders over to where John Lewis has Sparrow pinned to the floor with a foot to his throat, his hands tied with rope. “Bird-man knows why you can flit back and forth.” Jim reaches out with his index finger, stroking the pink flamingo feather attached to Sparrow’s wings. “I bet he’s not allowed to tell you though.” Jim glances at me, his lip curled, his eye in a half-wink. He closes his finger over the feather and rips it out before standing and walking back to where I hang. “You’ll find out. Soon enough.”

  “Leave him alone,” I whisper to Jim. “He doesn’t know anything.” For a split-second I wish Sparrow were still crazy, then I might be able to protect him.

  “Or what?” Jim holds the tip of the feather to the base of my neck. “What will you do, Meg? You have no idea who you really are. You have no idea what you really are.” He trails the feather across my neck, from side-to-side, as though he were slicing it open. “Did he at least tell you about this Hell? Your Hell?”

  “He said he can’t.”

  “Oh, that’s right. He can’t because it’s his fault you two are here. But I can. What has he told you?”

  “He told me he lost me.”

  “Oh yeah, he lost you. Turned his back on his one duty.” I focus behind Jim and see Sparrow’s eyes watching us. His chest rising and falling rapidly. “Sounds like a pretty stupid idea to me anyways. Send one warrior to watch over the future of the monarchy.” Jim leans into my face, his eyes focused on my lips. I lean back. “Did he tell you why he lost you?”

  I shake my head.

  “Doesn’t surprise me much.” Jim wanders in a circle. “Of course, how do you tell your superiors that you’ve abandoned your post because you’re in love with an infant?”

  Looking back to Sparrow I see his eyes close and his breathing slow. “What?” I ask.