I sighed and closed my eyes, making an effort to wrap my mind around it all. I didn’t know what I felt. Was it relief that someone knew how I felt and did not act as if I were touched by the plague? Was it shame that I couldn’t keep this hidden well enough? Was it fear that my mom knew even more embarrassing things about me? Whatever it was, it made my head feel heavy and any attempt at figuring it out made the room spin.
“I scared him away,” I said in the whiniest voice I’d heard coming out of my mouth since I was a small child.
“Oh, baby, I am sure that’s not true!”
“It is, he delegated his patrols to others, and he made damned sure he was cold and uncaring at the execution.” I pressed my lips in a tight line and clenched my fists in my lap.
“Son, will this dwindle your efforts? Will you abandon Blossoms of Hope?” She kept her face even, but I guessed she’d been considering it since yesterday.
“Of course not! What kind of man do you think I am, Mother? I only have a broken heart, I haven’t turned into some silly little thing who adopts the interests of cute boys they like. I’ve never been that fickle. And I sure as hell am not going to abandon the people of this village because a flyer does not want to be my boyfriend.” I rolled my eyes and huffed, annoyed by the ludicrousness of her question.
“Good, I’m glad to hear that.” She chuckled and poured me a fresh cup of tea. “See, my son, I only need one well-placed question to get you to focus on what’s important.”
I groaned at how easily she’d played me and drowned my embarrassment into my hot cup of tea. She’d been right though, I returned to my dusty garage with the spark of enthusiasm that had been missing since Michael’s last visit to my workplace. As I’d done countless days before, I skipped lunch and spent the entire day hunched over the open hood of the tractor.
As the sun disappeared behind the curtain of thick woods in the west, a harsh rumble signaled my success. Screaming my heart out like an idiot, I revved the tractor again and again, then took it for a short spin on the large street the garage was on. Small kids from that part of the village followed me around, shouting and laughing and hitting empty cans with small sticks.
When I grew tired of frantic battle cries, enthusiastic waving at everyone who passed by, and the loud, dissonant choir of children running behind me, I drove the tractor back into the garage, locked up and went home.
News apparently traveled faster than me, and the house was surrounded by an intoxicating mix of scents. All my favorites, I could tell, picking up an apple pie here, beef stew there, and my one guilty pleasure, spiced wine. When she heard the door, Mother came running hugging me and kissing my face until I physically removed her.
“I am so proud of you, Adam! Your first victory for Blossoms of Hope. Tomorrow I can start spreading the pamphlets we’ve been working on. The whole village will be buzzing with your accomplishment by then.”
She had flour plastered on her face and dress, her hair was a mess, yet she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. So warm and loving, her smile so bright, it brought tears to my eyes. I may have never registered on my father’s radar, but she had sure tried her best to compensate for his lack of interest.
“I love you, Mom,” I whispered and pulled her into another hug.
“I love you too, baby.”
By the time I staggered upstairs, I was so full, I could barely breathe. There had been so much food, so good, so tasty. The three mugs of spiced wine hadn’t made it any easier on my stomach, or my head. I was dizzy and couldn’t stop my giggles. I did that when I was tipsy, I giggled like a little girl. Not very manly of me, but I did not much care at times like this.
I clumsily removed my clothes and dove under the sheets without putting my pajamas on. I was too tired for that kind of effort. As the spinning room faded and sleep claimed me, all my thoughts went to Michael. How amazing would it have been if I could have shared my success with him? His approving smile was the one thing that was missing from that evening’s celebration and although I’d seen it only once, I knew I’d miss it for the rest of my life.
“WAKE UP, SLEEPY HEAD.” Mom yanked open the heavy curtains, allowing sunlight into my room. It felt like daggers going through my eyes and I groaned loudly. I quickly killed the sound of my voice when my head started throbbing.
“Adam, drink this,” my mother urged. She waited next to my bed, holding the cup of miracle tea. Resting against the soft pillows and keeping one eye closed, I reached for it and gulped it down. It was hot and bitter, but I drank it quickly and fought my need to throw it all up by taking long, deep breaths until the nausea subsided.
“Thank you, Mommy,” I said lamely.
She just chuckled and pointed to the digital display on my night stand. When I saw how late it was, I jumped out of bed and tripped over my legs, almost banging my head against the wall.
“Easy there, son! Try and remember you’re a lightweight next time you drown yourself in spiced wine.”
I nodded and grumbled a promise to do just that, knowing it wouldn’t happen.
The sun was high in the sky by the time I made it to the garage. I hadn’t gotten there so late in a long time and I couldn’t help laughing at myself a little. The first thing I did was start the tractor, just to make sure I wasn’t making up the fact it was working now. I turned it off and jumped out of the cabin, whistling and doing an awkward dance around the place as I looked for the plow I needed to repair and attach to it.
Soon I was lost into my own little mechanical world, cleaning parts and staring at complicated schematics.
“Well, well, what do we have here,” a mocking voice said. I couldn’t quite place it and I couldn’t tell who it was, as they had the sun behind them. The silhouette was undoubtedly one of a man, that much I knew. More figures joined him, carrying bats and sticks.
“What do you want?” I asked, trying to mask my fear as best as I could.
“Nephew, I hear your poor mother is running around town spreading pamphlets about schools and medicine and this tractor here.” I should have known Fred wouldn’t take too kindly to our actions.
“It’s her right and mine to do what we want as long as we’re not hurting anyone.” My voice cracked more the closer the men got to me.
“You are hurting the Freedom Alliance,” one of them shouted. They approached fast, aiming for the tractor.
“No, don’t you dare!” I cried out, trying to protect it with my body. They tried to move me out of the way, but I picked up a wrench and flung it in their general direction. My sign of aggression made them redirect their anger. They rained sticks, fists, and boots down on me so fast, I did not know what to protect first. Falling to my knees, I covered my head with my arms and did my best not to scream until it all turned black.
WHEN I WOKE UP, I was in my bed. As much as I tried, I couldn’t fully open my eyes. I felt as if every bone in my body was broken. I panicked when I couldn’t move, and I opened my mouth to scream. My mother’s face looming over stopped me.
“Shh, baby. Be a good boy and don’t move too much. You’ve taken quite the beating.” She quickly wiped a few tears and smiled warmly at me. “Michael stopped them right on time. He brought you home and helped me take care of you.” Mother’s face disappeared from view and Michael’s frowning one replaced it. His set jaw hinted at how tense he was. How pathetic of me to need him when he never wanted anything to do with me.
Michael said nothing. He just lightly brushed the back of his hand down the side of my face. It hurt, and I tried my best not to cringe, but failed. He winced and withdrew his hand, making me miss his touch with such intensity, I needed to shout it out. I probably would have if I hadn’t fallen asleep right away.
Over the following few days, I only woke for a few minutes here and there. Mother’s and Michael’s faces kept popping up and my whole body hurt. There were pills shoved down my throat and Michael kept running a slick looking scanner over my body. Despite the pain and everything el
se, I felt safe. I was so elated to see him every time I opened my eyes that everything else, the pain, the anger at what had happened, all faded away.
“The tractor?” I asked in a scratchy voice once I could manage it.
“They were more angry than precise,” Michael said. “You will be able to fix it in a matter of weeks.”
“They’ll go back and finish it.”
“No, they will not,” Michael said, sounding menacing. “The flyers are close by. If they return, they’ll not like the results.”
“Michael, no!” I struggled, trying to prop myself higher on the bed to see him properly.
“Don’t thrash so much.” He helped me up and tried to step away, but I caught his arm and tugged.
“Sit here with me, please.” I did the best impression of pleading eyes I could muster. I knew they were still bruised, my whole face puffy enough to mask any kind of expression I’d make. Michael nodded and sat lightly on the side of the bed, his knee bent. I could have released his arm, but chose not to. I’d been getting away with a lot on account of having been beaten so badly. Almost killed, my mother had said. My skull had been cracked, a few shattered ribs, a broken knee and arm… I should have been a cripple, but Michael had used some of his medicine and nanobots to repair me. They’d gone through my body, leaving a trail of metal behind.
“You’ve broken enough rules healing me. Please, stop.”
He smiled warmly and placed his hand over mine. The heat I felt made me moan softly and close my eyes.
“I’ve broken no rules. I have free reign as long as I protect those who help us enforce the laws.”
I chuckled and tilted my head. “Michael, I’ve never pegged you for someone who’d know their way around loopholes.”
He winked and suddenly looked like a young menace, a rascal up to no good. I once again was thankful for the way my brain worked. I would always be able to remember these expressions.
“Don’t you worry about any of it. I am better at navigating inter-stellar law than you think.”
He removed the hand covering mine, but never tried to brush me off. I took my opening and lightly caressed his forearm with my fingers, my eyes locked on him, gauging his reaction. Michael closed his eyes, his head falling forward. I ran my fingers along his upper arm and finally, gathering all my courage, cupped his face with a now very shaky hand. He leaned into the touch and moaned softly.
“Adam, what are you doing to me?” The fear in his voice had me pull away. His eyes opened lazily, darker now than I’d ever seen them before. “I never said you should stop,” he said pouting. My heart soared at the sight and I gave him a small smile.
“No, the fear in your voice did.”
He leaned on the bed next to me, resting his head on a bent arm. “Just because we are afraid, it does not mean we should not follow the path set before us.”
“Where does that path lead you?”
He sighed and averted his eyes. He was quiet for so long, that I thought he’d never answer me. “It leads to you, somehow. In ways I am unable to understand, every path I take leads me right back to you.”
IT TOOK ANOTHER fortnight for me to recover enough to stand and walk. It was all very tiring, but I did my best, pushing myself harder every day. The nanobots had done a fine job of rebuilding my bone structure, but my muscles needed some readjusting after weeks spent in bed.
Having Michael around, even if he was careful not to come too close to me, helped more than any drug or potion I’d been given. He’d stopped spending every moment glued to my bed as soon as I’d started feeling better, but he still came to see me every evening for a few hours. Evenings had become my favorite part of the day. He’d sit with us, having some tea as my mother and I had dinner, then he’d accompany me to my room and talk about everything we could think about. Earth, its history, its stories, books and movies, the universe, the galaxies, the other races.
The more Michael talked, the more vivid my images of everything he recounted became. It was as if he transferred his memories to me, everything brightly colored in the pictures he painted. Soon, I started to perceive scents and sensations he’d experienced on one planet or another. The warm breeze of the Epsilon Five beaches, the sharp sting of iced rain on Brimix, the blinding speed flight through nothingness taking him from Saturn to Earth every time he came to visit.
I fed on his stories, on the depth of our budding bond, and on the endless possibilities of what this level of sharing meant. I’d refrained from touching him, seeing how it made him uncomfortable and restless, but the need to feel every inch of him grew stronger every day. I knew what was happening between us was unusual, but shallow it was not.
The moment walking became less of a chore, I went back to work. On my first day, I was greeted by the children living close to the garage. They all came running, hugging my thighs and telling me how happy they were to see me. They asked if they could chase the tractor again and that childish request made me want to fix it even more.
Michael had been right, it only took a couple of weeks to repair the damage they’d done. In their rage, my attackers had focused on the iron body of the tractor, doing limited damage to the engine itself. If I weren’t still recovering, I probably would have finished faster. Or maybe not. The kids did help me when they weren’t destroying everything around the garage. They’d taken to playing inside my work space while I was there, wooing and aahing every time I showed them how something worked. Having an army of little mechanics might have not helped much with the progress, but it sure as hell did wonders for my state of mind.
After a while, the flyers stopped guarding the garage. The villagers all knew it was under their protection. So were the leaflets my mother would pin everywhere she could. We were safe from the others’ actions, but not from their glares or harsh words. Angel worshippers, flyer ass kissers, betrayers, those were the niceties they used for us.
I did not care, seeing Michael as often as I did erased it all from my heart, even if my mind was unable to forget it. My mother, in turn, disregarded all the mean comments and kept talking to anyone who’d listen. She soon gathered quite a following. Widows who’d lost too much to the Alliance, young boys and girls tired of being orphaned in the chase for an impossible quest, older inhabitants who’d realized flying away from Earth was no use when our life here was this hard, they all gathered around her, drinking in all her words.
For the first time in so long, I felt there was some sort of hope for us. That maybe we would give up that stupid desire of leaving our planet and focus on what we needed to enjoy it more, live better. I still had to work hard to fix things I didn’t quite know how to make work, but the plough was working perfectly, making it easier for us to work our fields, and I was almost done fixing another appendage for the tractor which I assumed was for sowing.
“GO HOME AND get ready,” Michael said without greeting me. A wide smile lit up his face, his eyes glowing with mischief.
“Get ready for what?” It didn’t matter. I’d follow him anywhere. I threw my tools back into their wooden box and closed the doors of the garage behind me.
“I can’t tell you, it’s a surprise. I’ll be at your house in an hour,” he said, the smile never leaving his face. “Don’t be late.” Michael flew away before I had a chance to say anything else. I shrugged and hurried home. I’d find out everything in an hour anyway.
My light attitude quickly faded when I realized I had no idea what to wear. I supposed it wouldn’t matter much to Michael, he’d never worn anything but leather pants. Yet for some reason, I wanted to look good for him. I felt I should, especially if he’d gone to the trouble of preparing a surprise for me. I looked through my meager possessions, and realized the options were limited. I put on a pair of faded jeans and a dark T-shirt. I supposed it was black at some point, but it had morphed into a shade of gray.
I stepped in front of a mirror and tried to do something with my light brown mop, but it had grown too much, looking like some bird
s had nested in it. I sighed and ran a brush through it a few times, to no avail. Wherever we were going, it would have to do. I braced myself against the small vanity where my mom used to do her hair and makeup when I was a kid, and stared at my own reflection. I’d filled up and wasn’t as lean as I used to be. I guessed that was what long days of manual labor did for you.
I went outside earlier than Michael had told me to meet him. Pacing in my room did not help me calm down, so I decided waiting outside would be better.
“You’re early.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice and a new sway in the way he walked as he approached me.
“So are you,” I said, shrugging. I hated that I couldn’t be as cool and collected as he was and that my voice broke when I spoke. His wings were not tucked close to his body, but were spread open, glowing softly in the evening light. He looked so much like a dream, I had to remind myself he was very real. Michael was also impossibly close to me, invading my personal space. I did not mind, even if it impaired my ability to breathe and think. Yet I knew he avoided it as much as he could, so the ease with which he pressed his body against mine took me by surprise.
“Wrap your hands around my neck,” he whispered, his soft breath caressing my skin and making my lips tingle with the need to kiss him. Really kiss him, not just press my lips against his like the last time. It took all my strength, but I resisted and did as I was told. I stepped closer, locked my arms behind his neck and held my breath. His strong arms went around me, one across my back, the other around my waist.
“Look at me,” he commanded and I obeyed, my eyes glued to his. His lips descended on mine and I felt my stomach dropping as the flutter of his wings reached my ears. We were flying.
For a moment, I thought I should open my eyes and see the Earth getting smaller, but his lips started moving and I lost all semblance of logical thinking. I mimicked his movements and opened up when his tongue licked at the seam, pushing forward. When it touched mine and glided along the wet surface, I moaned into his mouth, gripping him tighter and pushing my hips forward.
Angel's Feather (Flyer Chronicles, Book One) Page 4
