by Cheree Alsop
“I am,” I replied, though it felt silly to say something so obvious.
“Sky, don’t leave the front door open,” a woman’s voice called.
“Sorry, Mom,” Skylar said. She ushered me inside.
William followed and I felt his fingers touch my feathers. The feeling was unnerving. I wanted to fight, to run, to get out of the small townhouse filled with pictures and memories like so many of the homes I had burned. I shouldn’t be seeing how a real family occupied the walls. I had done so much damage; I didn’t belong there.
Skylar caught my arm, unaware of my battling emotions. I followed her blindly, feeling as if I walked in a haze down a set of carpeted stairs, through a small living room, and into the kitchen where a woman with dark blond hair and glasses sat at a round table.
“Saro, this is my mom, Sylvia Jamison. Mom, this is Saro. He’s from the Center.”
Skylar’s mom glanced up from the papers she was holding. She looked at her papers again, then her head bobbed back up so fast her glasses slipped down her nose. “I, uh. . . .” She rose quickly; her chair slid back with a loud screech.
“He’s a Galdoni!” William exclaimed behind me.
“Y-yes, I can see that,” Mrs. Jamison replied, her voice almost level.
“Want to see my action figures?” William asked.
I gave Skylar a questioning glance. She looked like she was about to laugh at my discomfort, but she held it inside. “Go ahead. He won’t bite.”
I followed the boy back up the stairs.
“Are you sure it’s William we should be worried about?” I heard Mrs. Jamison ask.
“It’s alright, Mom. Trust me.”
“It’s just that I never expected you to bring one of them home with you.”
I grimaced at the way she said the word ‘them’ as though I was a species of animal better left alone.
Chapter Eighteen
William entered a room on the right and immediately took a seat on the carpeted floor by his bed. Light blue curtains covered the one window, and a blue and white checkered blanket lay askew on the bed as if he had given up straightening it about the same time that he started.
Strange objects filled every space, small animals made of soft material, plastic bugs in a clear box, a plaid cotton snake that wrapped around one of the bed posts, little green men holding guns were evenly spaced across the top of a dresser, and small figures that looked like replicas of creatures I had never seen sat anywhere they could be placed.
“What are all these?” I asked, confused as to why any boy would want them in his room.
William’s dark eyebrows rose. “Toys,” he answered in surprise. “Haven’t you seen toys before?”
I shook my head. “We weren’t allowed to play with toys when I was your age.”
William looked aghast at my admission. “What did you do then?”
“Fight,” I replied, not willing to expound.
He nodded as if that explained everything. He grabbed a few of the little green soldiers off his dresser and handed them to me. Taking some for himself, he sat on the bed and began to make shooting noises.
After a minute, he glanced up. “Play,” he said.
I sat down slowly on the bed and studied the little green men, turning them in my gauzed hand.
“Make sounds for them, like this.” William began to speak in a gruff voice that sounded hilarious coming from a young boy. “What are your orders, Captain?” He held up another man. “Surround the building. Take out the snipers.” He bounced the first one up and down. “Yes, sir.”
William then looked up at me. “If their hands could move, I would’ve had him salute, because you do that to a captain. Do you understand?”
I nodded, but it was clear to both of us I had no idea what he was talking about.
Footsteps sounded in the hall. We looked up at Skylar’s entrance. She leaned against the door frame. “What are you guys doing?” Humor showed in her blue eyes at the sight of the army men in my hands.
“Saro doesn’t know how to play,” William said with as much dismay as if I didn’t know how to slam someone’s jaw with a haymaker at just the right angle to lay him out cold.
Skylar’s brow creased. “Give him a break, Will. I’m guessing he had to grow up pretty fast.”
She looked at me as if she wanted to ask questions, but wouldn’t in front of her brother. I settled for a nod.
“Did you have anything to play with when you were my age?” William pressed.
“Will,” Skylar said quietly.
He watched me with his eager gaze, ready to soak up anything I could tell him. I hesitated, then said, “Wooden swords.”
“Cool,” he replied. “I have a plastic sword that Dad gave me, but he was the only one who would play with me. Now nobody will.”
His tone caught my attention. “What happened to your dad?”
Skylar took a step into the room. William’s head lowered, his gaze on his little green soldiers. “He died last year from an accident at work. There was an explosion.”
Death was something I was used to, something cold and tangible. I had looked at death so many times in my life it felt like an old friend, almost. Yet looking at William brought it all back, full force. I saw VA579 again, his body crumpled at my feet. He used to laugh, one of the few who dared to still do so at our age. The guards would beat him for it, but he didn’t care. He said that laughter was something nobody could take from him, yet I had managed to do it. After my best friend’s death, there was no more laughter at the Academy.
I glanced at Skylar; there were tears in her eyes that she refused to let fall. I think I understood why she covered her mouth when she laughed. Perhaps the laughter had also vanished inside of her when her dad died. Maybe there was nothing left to laugh at.
On a whim, I held up one of the little green men. I attempted to imitate William’s gravelly voice. “I blew my arm off, Captain. What should I do?”
He looked up at me in surprise. A grin filled his face. “Get to the medic tent, stat!” he commanded with his plastic man.
“Uh, okay.”
He laughed. “Soldiers don’t say ‘okay’. They say ‘roger’ or ‘yes, Captain, sir’, or ‘ten hut!’”
“What does ‘ten hut’ mean?” I asked. I glanced up at Skylar. She gave me a warm smile before she disappeared back down the hall.
“I don’t know,” William said. “I just know that’s what soldiers say.”
We played for a few more minutes. It felt strange to sit on the bed with William surrounded by all the toys and figures that occupied a normal youth. I wanted to go back there, to forget everything at the Academy and have the chance to be young again without the training and violence. I wanted to know what the guy on the shelf with the red stick in his hand was for, and why there were shoes with wheels sitting on the floor of William’s open closet. There was a stick leaning next to them that turned at an angle near the end that would have been perfect for tearing the weapon from an opponent’s hand, but I guessed that wasn’t what it was really for.
A worn cotton dog sat near his pillow on the disheveled bed. Its nose was scratched and one of the eyes looked as though it had been sewn on crooked, but the matted fur and bedraggled look let me know that the creature was well loved. I wondered why a child would hold something so dear.
“You bored?” William asked, bringing my attention back to the soldiers in my hand.
I shook my head. “I’m just new to this.”
He nodded. He thought for a minute, then his eyes lit up. He dropped to his knees on the floor and reached underneath the bed. “Look at this.” He pulled out a box and set it on the blanket, then opened it to reveal the contents.
My stomach twisted at the sight of more small figures, only this time, I recognized them. William held up a small replica of a tiny Galdoni with black wings and hair. It was accurate down to the tiny details on the armor. “Kale is my favorite,” William explained. “He’s the hero.
He broke the Arena down.”
“It’s still standing,” I replied numbly.
He nodded. “But it’s broken just the same.”
He sorted through more of the Galdoni. I recognized a few, the giant Goliath, a small red-head I had seen a few times in the Academy cafeteria, and one with orange wings I had fought occasionally in practice.
I glimpsed something familiar in the box. Without a word, I reached in and pulled out a Galdoni with gray wings and black hair. He held a sword in one hand with a detailed serrated blade, the very blade he had been named for.
“Did you know him?” William asked.
I glanced up at his accurate assumption. “I did.”
He shook his head. “Blade’s the bad guy. He tries to kill everyone.” He took the Galdoni out of my hand and moved the Blade and Kale figures as though they were fighting together. I watched, entranced, as he made combat noises and flipped one over the other. It felt almost like I was in the Arena again, watching Galdoni fight to the death for values that were as empty as the freedom they gave us when the gates were opened.
“William!”
I jumped at the sound of Skylar’s voice, torn from my thoughts.
She took the Galdoni from her brother’s hand. “Where did you get these?” she demanded.
“Nate, at school,” he rushed to explain. “I won them with my slammer. You should have seen his face!”
“You know I’m against this, and Mom is, too,” Skylar said. She threw the Galdoni replicas into the box and shoved the lid on, then gave me an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, Saro.”
“It’s alright,” I said. I couldn’t hide how the Galdoni figures shook me. The plastic Galdoni, the Arena, everything I had stood for and bled for made my life into a sham. I wasn’t real; I was a toy just like those in the box. Men created and destroyed us with the heartless abandon of the green soldiers scattered around the bed. We weren’t real; we were the toys of men who had decided to play god.
“Are you okay?” Skylar asked.
I rose. “I just need to get some fresh air.” I walked unseeing past Skylar and back down the hall.
She caught my arm when I turned toward the stairs. “This way,” she said. She guided me through the kitchen to the back door. I could feel her mother’s eyes on my wings as I pulled the door shut behind me. I followed Skylar up four short cement steps to a square of grass surrounded by a high white fence.
“Come on,” Skylar said. She laid on the grass, then motioned for me to do the same. She closed her eyes and turned her face toward the rays of sun that spilled into the yard. “You should try it,” she encouraged.
I glanced around again. The only way someone could reach us was from above or through Skylar’s house. We were relatively safe unless a Galdoni came looking for me, and nobody had a reason to worry about my absence from Kale’s Center. I gave in and sat by Skylar on the grass. She didn’t open her eyes, but patted the green growth near her, emphasizing that I should lay down as well.
I gave in and settled onto my back. The grass still held the chill of night. It felt good against my wings where they were still recovering from the burns. I spread out my arms, imitating Skylar. After a moment, I stretched out my legs as well.
Skylar’s hushed voice broke the silence between us. “Do you feel it?”
“What?” I asked.
I could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “The peace.” She fell silent for a few minutes, then said, “Let everything down, Saro. Drop your guard, let your muscles relax. Pretend you are nothing more than the grass. You’ll feel it if you stop trying to.”
Her words didn’t make sense. My mind argued against it. My muscles fought to relax. I felt tense on my back, vulnerable, ready to spring up at any sign of an attack.
Something light touched my hand. I opened my eyes instead of shying away like I normally would. The sight of Skylar’s hand resting on top of mine made my heart give a few strange little beats. I closed my eyes and turned my face toward the sun, willing my heart to slow.
“Breathe,” Skylar whispered beside me.
I took a deep breath, held it in my lungs for a few seconds, then let it out in a quiet rush. I did it again, and willed my limbs to relax as I did so. To my surprise, they obeyed. Each breath calmed my nerves and helped me will myself to let go. Muscles I hadn’t even known were tense eased. After a few more breaths, I felt more relaxed than I ever remembered being.
When I was no longer so in tune with my instincts, the outside world became crisp, clear, as if it was the only thing that mattered. I heard dogs barking in the distance, and a bird chirped in the tree at the front of the town home. The steady hum of cars made their way up and down the busy city streets even given the early hour of the morning. Honking sounded, and a siren wailed.
Yet I felt distant from it, apart. I felt as though none of it mattered, like I was an ant watching everything from my little patch of grass. The world didn’t affect me and I didn’t impact it. I was separate, alone, yet not lonely. Skylar’s hand on top of mine had everything to do to that.
“Now you know why a little yard can be so important,” Skylar said quietly.
I nodded. “I need to get me one of these.”
She laughed again, a little sound that was more of a breath than a chuckle, but I heard the soft brush of fabric when she lifted her hand to her mouth.
“Don’t do that,” I said, opening my eyes.
She tipped her head to look at me. “Do what?”
“Don’t cover your mouth when you laugh.” I met her gaze solemnly. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”
She stared at me, her blue eyes wide and reflecting the golden rays that streamed down past the fence. She sat up and looked down at me, her black and red hair brushing along each side of her chin. “I don’t understand you, Saro.”
The statement hurt. I tried not to let it show as I watched her from my place on the ground.
Skylar’s eyebrows pulled together. “They told me to be careful around you.”
My heart twisted as though her words wrapped around it, strangling it. I sat up and pulled my wings close behind me. “Did they say why?” I asked, refusing to look at her.
“They said. . . .” She let out a breath, then continued. “They said you were dangerous.”
“All Galdoni are dangerous,” I replied bitterly. I pulled a handful of grass and let it sift through my fingers, hiding how much her words bothered me, how they tore at my heart.
“That’s what I told them,” she said with a touch of humor. She let out another breath in a huff. “The reason I told you is because I think they’re wrong, Saro.”
She waited in silence for me to look at her. I refused. My knees were up and my arms were locked around them. My hands ached as I clenched my fists. I wanted to hit something so badly it was all I could do to hold still. I could feel myself wanting to snap, needing to snap. I couldn’t keep it inside.
“Look at me.” It was more of a question than a statement. There was something in her tone, something I couldn’t deny.
I lifted my gaze to hers. There was a look of understanding on her face so soft and caring that it brought tears to my eyes. I blinked quickly, looking away. “They’re not wrong. I shouldn’t be here.”
“Saro.”
I stood. “No, Skylar. All I want to do right now is hit someone, to tear them apart. I want to leave somebody bleeding on the ground.” My burned hands ached. I forced them to unclench. The gauze pulled at liquid from the blisters that had broken. I let out a breath between my clenched teeth. “You shouldn’t trust me.” I opened my wings.
Skylar grabbed my arm. “You didn’t ask me to trust you,” she said.
I looked down at her. One part of me wanted to fly away, to abandon the Galdoni Center, Kale, Alana, everyone, and just leave forever; the other part of me was caught in Skylar’s gaze, held by the pleading on her face.
“I asked you to trust me,” she said. “From t
he moment you stepped into that elevator, I knew you were different than anyone believed. You’ve proven that a hundred times over.”
“You don’t know me,” I said. I meant for my voice to be strong, but the words came out soft, barely above a whisper.
“I’d like to,” she replied.
Her words took the breath from my chest; they deflated the rage that pounded through my veins. They ate at my heart, tearing me open and leaving my soul exposed, raw and full of pain.
“I know you were born to fight,” she said. “I can see the war in your mind. You don’t feel like you belong anywhere but a battlefield, but I know that’s not true. You can fight with your heart instead of your mind. Show them that you have a soul. I can help you. I want to know you.”
The tears that burned in my eyes this time were of anger at myself, at all that I was and everything I had done. I turned my face toward Skylar, and forced the words past the knot in my throat. “You might not like what you find.” A tear escaped, sliding down my cheek.
She reached up and brushed away the tear with fingertips so gentle there was only a lingering trail of heat where her skin had connected with mine. “Let me be the judge of that,” she whispered.
I stared down at her. For the second time in my life, I wanted to kiss a girl. I couldn’t explain it. First Alana, now Skylar. She watched me with her searching, bottomless eyes as if she knew all the secrets I held. I wanted to turn away, but I couldn’t. I was frozen, held to the ground as if I was truly another blade of grass, so fragile that a gust of wind could bend me in two.
Skylar reached her hand up again. Her fingers caught my tangled brown hair and pushed it out of my eyes. “Why do I feel so comfortable with you?” she asked quietly. “It’s like I’ve been waiting for you all my life without realizing it until now.”
Her touch was familiar and gentle; the heat that raced through me beckoned for me to cover her mouth with mine. Her chin tipped up slightly and the barest hint of a smile brushed her lips.
