Wings of Boden

by Erik S Lehman

  Bare feet on the edge of the coffee table, legs tented up, Angie was flipping through the catalog on her lap, marking pages by folding corners. She angled a sister-grin at me. My mouth was full of melon but I attempted to give her a smile, though it probably looked like a bunched up, mouth-stuffed-full-of-fruit smile. She giggled, licked a finger, and flipped another page. Whatever. This fruit is heaven. I picked through the bowl for another cube. A strawberry! Hidden under there, hiding from me in all its bright red glory, sorry little juicy friend, you’re mine.

  Vyn was still talking, “… must bend and fold into a specific three dimensional …”

  How long had it been since I wore those fancy shoes? I looked at my bare feet, wiggled my toes. It was time for a pedicure. Pink polish, maybe apricot, yeah … Ooh, apricots, yummy. Do we have any apricots, hmm?

  “… to produce thousands of luciferase enzymes at once. The new enzymes seek out and bind to a chemical called …”

  Jeans were comfortable, not as comfortable as silk, but much warmer and more durable. I missed my pretty clothes, though. I reached down and touched the edge of my dress, caressing the fabric between my fingers. Until I realized what strawberry juice might do to it, so I pulled my hand back, checked for a dress stain. What do I wipe my hands on? I looked around. Nothing. So I put my fingers in my mouth and cleaned them off with my tongue.

  “… action of so many enzymes results in a light that is bright enough to see, possibly enough to give us the ability to fly at night. I’m working on the accelerating the process to produce an injectable genetic mixture and create bioluminescence for all of angelkind.”

  Chewing up a sweet berry, I realized Vyn had stopped talking, so I looked at him.

  Vyn turned to me. “So, what do you think, Ellie?”

  I swallowed. “Um, that was great, sweetie.” I wiped my mouth. “Very, um, interesting.”

  Saved by Jaydenn, “That was interesting. I have no idea what you just said, but sounds like you know your stuff.”

  Angie gave me a chewing, mocking face, stuck her tongue out at me and made me giggle.

  “Is there any fruit left, Ellie?” she asked.

  “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” I lifted off the loveseat and handed her the bowl.

  As I lowered back down, my gaze went out the wall of windows to see the light fading, dusk setting in through the pine trees. Reality dawning.

  CHAPTER 19

  With a half-eaten apricot in my left hand, I used my right on the knob of the den door. Locked. Odd. In my curiosity, I leaned my ear to the door. But maybe they were—absolute eew. At the slightest hint of that, I’d go away fast.

  “She’s doing good,” Dad’s voice. “She’s happy, but it’s not time yet. It’s not safe.”

  Were they talking about me?

  “But she’s our daughter, Phil,” said Mom. “Don’t you think she should have a say?”

  Yes, Mom, I should. I gave her a smile at the door.

  “No, not yet,” Dad replied. “Listen, I saved her once. I might not be so lucky if it happens again.”

  At the sounds grinding wood, I figured he must be turning the wall back around.

  Dad added with a raised voice, “Don’t you remember? It almost killed me.”

  “Don’t say that, of course I remember.” Mom paused. “Penelope is wonderful, and I don’t regret us taking her in as our daughter. You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen her too. Don’t you think Ellie and Angie would like to meet Penny? They would just adore her.”

  The spring squeak of Dad’s chair, he must’ve sat. Their conversation began to run through my mind: Penelope? Who the flap was Penny? Did they have another family? That concept pulled at every nerve in my body, sent a bit of anger to bubble inside.

  Even as I pressed my ear a little harder to the door, a tap on my shoulder startled a squeaky yelp from me, sent the apricot to the floor. I turned to see Angie beaming a grin on a “gotcha” face. We had this little scare game. And yes, my racing pulse proved that she got me. But this wasn’t the time for play.

  “Angie, we need to talk, now,”

  She looked confused. “Okay? Mom and Dad aren’t—” A gross look squinched her face.

  “No, no. I wish.”

  “Eew, Ellie.”

  “Just listen. Wait. Let’s go over there.” I led her to the bronze hawk. We stood face-to-face. “Have you ever heard of anyone named, Penelope, or Penny?”

  “What? No, not that I know of.”

  “Okay, okay, listen.” I tucked some hair behind my ear. “Dad was saying that he saved this girl, Penny, and she’s their daughter. Our sister. We have another sister.”

  Her eyebrows winged up. “What are you saying, Ellie? You must’ve misunderstood.”

  “I know what I heard. We have a sister named, Penny.”

  Her placating grin held as she studied me for a beat, until her eyes widened and the grin fell away. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I’m serious. We can’t tell them we know, though. Let’s just play along. I think Mom’s trying to get Dad to—”

  “Girls,” Dad called from the door of the den, “time to study.”

  Eyes on Angie, I hinted, “Quiet, right?”

  She agreed with a light headshake.

  Passing Dad on our way into the den, I raised an icy glance at him, at his deceit.

  The blinds were drawn shut over the windowed wall. Amber shaded lamps here and there created a soft mood to the room. Mom was sitting in a padded chair before Dad’s desk, a forced posture, trying to gather herself, it seemed. She pushed her fingers through long curtains of blond hair as if she was about to tie it back, until she let it fall over her shoulders and did a light headshake. My gaze went to the conference table to notice the giant platter that once held all that fruit was empty.

  “You girls aren’t wearing your jeans?” Mom said. “It’s so nice to see you two in dresses. You’re both so pretty.”

  Angie commented behind me, “This room is too dark. When are you gonna put some girl colors in here, Dad. I mean, everything’s all, just. Brown. It’s depressing.”

  Mom voiced out, “Thank you. I’ve been trying to tell him that for years.”

  While I stood at the conference table, I asked, “Were you guys hungry or something?”

  Mom grinned at me, and then replied with a suggestive undertone, “Your father was very hungry.” She crossed a leg, stacked her palms on her dress lap while her blue eyes twinkled.

  Whatever, Mom.

  As much as I detested the thought, I wished they had been— well, no, get outta my head. But it would’ve been better than lying to us. It was not nice and I was disappointed in them.

  “Eew, Mom.” I played along with her game.

  “You girls aren’t the only ones that can have fun, you know.”

  “All right,” Dad said, sitting in his desk chair. “Get to studying girls. You need to learn a few things.”

  Yeah, I sure do, he’s right about that.

  With the possibility of learning something about Dakarai, I tore myself away and marched over to the woven throw rug before a ceiling-high bookcase. The ancient looking book was ready for us on the rug, with notepads and pencils beside. A study setup that seemed designed for children.

  I snatched the book off the floor, turned. “Grab the paper and pencils, Ang.” I tossed a scowl at Dad. “We’re studying at the table this time.”

  As I made my way to the conference table, Dad said, “That’s fine, it’s probably better.” For some reason, it sounded like he thought I was asking for permission.

  The book thunked to the table. Dad and Mom were probably looking at me. Whatever. I dropped into a chair, flung the book open.

  ****

  The rich aroma of coffee beans lingered in the morning kitchen, the sound of the coffee maker bubbling out a fresh pot. It’s funny how something can smell so wonderful, yet taste so nasty, well, except for those special smoothie coffees I often get from my
favorite coffee shop, Boden’s Brew, THE ONLY WAY TO FLY, they say. Their magical concoctions are pure heaven. I sat at the breakfast nook table in my pink cotton PJ pants and T-shirt, fluffy slippers, nibbling on a piece of raspberry jellied toast and sipping some well-doctored coffee while I gazed out the window. Angie was behind, preparing her toast to join me.

  When Angie had first strolled in, in her powder blue PJ’s and matching slippers, I couldn’t help but notice her happy glow—her bright face, eyes glinting like green emeralds. Her ray-of-sunshine attitude had me a bit confused, until a fragment of memory from last night came skipping across my mind—Angie’s giggling bedroom escapades with Jaydenn.

  It got me thinking about the word, the big three-letter word; Sex. Angie had just reached the age of twenty, her magical number that she’d had her sights set on—since she and Jaydenn had decided to wait until then—and seemed to be enjoying herself a little too much.

  I took a bite of toast, felt the seeds from the raspberry jam between my teeth.

  Curiosity filled me. Vyn and I had made a promise to each other, or maybe a pact, to wait to have sex, but there had been times of temptation. We’d both gone through our Sex-Ed class back when we were just high school juniors. I still remember looking at the pictures of the male, well, you know, and feeling myself blush as I did so. Back then, I was more fascinated than anything. I’d seen Vyn naked before, in the shower, or “mistakenly” when he was sleeping in his boxers and I would catch a “glimpse,” knowing that he was obviously in the middle of one of those dreams, because his, um, well. It had looked so strong, nothing like the pictures, and I would wonder whether I was in that dream of his. Warmth would settle low in my belly, and I’d be tempted to experiment, thinking how stupid we were to make such a promise to deny ourselves. For what? Ugh. My nineteenth birthday is almost here, Vyn. You’d better be ready. I smiled. Felt a tingle. Took a sip.

  Now that I think about it, I must’ve looked pretty stupid back then, staring at him in fascination while he slept.

  Lately, whenever I looked at him, the feelings, the desire would cross over into craving, and it was something I’d never felt before. Of course, Vyn and I could show our affection by touching wings, and that was pure bliss, but it wasn’t anything we couldn’t do in public. Well, unless school rules forbade it with another professor warning. Whatever … I took another sip toward the window.

  Last evening, before bed, Angie and I had studied for nearly three hours. We’d learned about how the dreks could only be “killed” with a shot to the head. And about the yell and the fact that it could damage our hearing and make us sick, drain some of our light. Dreks are sneaky, too, we’d also learned. They’d play with minds, create dreams and voices and hallucinations, use any method they could, including whipping us, which was a mega-surprise to me, to drag us into the dark. Or they’d influence us with their words, stain our light and recruit us as one of them.

  It was disturbing to say the least.

  Anger had flooded the evening for a time. But as the night wore on, guilt grew into stomach pains over how I’d treated Mom and Dad. Angie and I had discussed it, concluding that they probably knew what was best.

  Patience, Ellie, the words drifted through my mind as I viewed out the window. Don’t be a bratty angel who throws tantrums to get her way. Never had I been like that and this was not the time to start. They deserve all my love and respect. After all, Dad did save me. He’d given me the gift of life. Twice.

  Focus. Time to save the children.

  Angie, glowing with remnants of her evening bliss, set her plated toast and coffee cup to the table and sat. The forest and mountains were like an oil painting on a fresh morning canvas. I lifted my cup, took a sip toward the beauty. Coffee slid warm down my throat.

  CHAPTER 20

  Nearly a month of study and practice had drained us, yet sharpened our minds and melted the last traces of fat from our bodies. It was three weeks after the first drek died by the side of the road, and seven days before my nineteenth birthday, as I sat in a deck chair aside Mom and Angie.

  Over the past weeks, during lulls between training and study, Angie and I would spend time on the porch deck, under Mom’s hanging flower baskets, sipping iced tea while we looked out through the forest. We would take advantage of the peace at every possible chance. A light breeze would carry the smells of pine onto the porch, mingling with the scent of Mom’s flowers and tinkling the wind chimes on the way by. Brief meditations in beauty. This had become a construction zone, official headquarters for strategy, a compound. So the moments of silence were few.

  Flatbed trucks—loaded down with everything from fruit and food, to construction equipment and supplies—would stream before us in what seemed like a never-ending line. Dad had connections from his past, and they were more than willing to help.

  Teams of hulking males would show up unannounced to assist in our efforts. Every morning and throughout the day, males would come floating down, land on our driveway and stroll up to the posted welcome sign that stood near the tree line. Dad had mentioned that some are retired football player friends of his. Others are current professional players. Still others are simply volunteers from almost everywhere. They would read the minor instructions on the sign, greet the closest angel, and then walk down the path that led to a cleared section back in the forest. The clearing held the massive new barn structure Dad and the crew had built in two days. Dad had mentioned over dinner one night that it could hold three hundred members. I suspected they were going to need a bigger one. But with all the sounds, I knew they were still building. The hotels in all the towns within fifty miles were booked solid, including Dad’s hotel; the Angelic Inn.

  The population of Boden was on the rise.

  Playtime was over.

  Angie, Mom and I were sitting in deck chairs with tall glasses of iced tea, watching the transformation of our place on Conall Mountain. Time for a relaxing day, we had decided, so we all wore sleeveless sundresses and flowered perfume, something pretty in the middle of chaos. Mom and Angie wore flats. My feet were strapped into my favorite ankle-tied sandals. Mom had even tied her hair back with a ribbon, something she rarely does.

  “So girls,” said Mom, “how’s the practice coming along?”

  “Good. No, great,” I replied with confidence. “I think we’re gonna need a smaller target. That drek’s head is just a little too big.” I lifted my glass, took a grinning sip with memories of a practice session. Arrows had sliced the mountain air and slipped into the bale up to the feathers, a grouping so tight we couldn’t fit a pine needle between them, we had tried. Yeah, we were ready, for that part anyway.

  Male hollers and pounding hammers echoed through the forest. A big green truck with a wooden-railed bed filled to the brim made its way up the driveway, tires kicking up dirt. A sign on the truck door read, “Heming Farms.”

  Look at all that fruit, I think I’m hungry.

  The muscled, smiling driver gave us a wave through the truck windshield as he passed by.

  “Look at all that fruit,” Angie said.

  “Yeah,” I replied, “that’s just what I was thinking.”

  Even as we returned a wave to the driver, Mom said, “Just remember, girls, no matter how good you get, it takes more than shooting talent. Don’t get too confident and careless.” She lowered her waving hand as her other hand tipped her glass for a sip.

  “I know, Mom,” I said. “I can honestly say I’m not looking forward to it. We can kill paper dreks pretty easy, but we know the difference.”

  Seeming distracted, Mom sent her gaze across the horizon. Following her sight line, I noticed above the forest in the distant blue what appeared to be an approaching female with a child beside her. The adult female was long and slim with glorious white wings. As she drew closer, I began to recognize her flowing blond hair, jeans and a T. It had to be, and it was.

  Ginelle!

  After hopping off the porch deck to the dirt driveway, I skipp
ed over to greet her. She floated down, her white flats touching down softly. Her darling little daughter tapped down beside her in the cutest flowered dress, matching flats like ballerina slippers. Blond waves of hair framed her face as her twinkling blue eyes smiled up at me, an exact copy of her mother’s eyes. It was difficult to take my eyes off her, but I managed to:

  “Hi, Ginelle,” I said. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

  “Oh, Elle, me too, sweetie.” She leaned a kiss to my cheek.

  She remembered me. We hugged like the closest of friends. Friends, with her!

  After the hug, I stood eyes down on the little one. “Is this gorgeous angel your daughter?”

  “Yes, this is Steffunnie. She likes to be called, Steff.”

  “Of course you do. That’s such a beautiful name, Steff, just like you.”

  Little Steffunnie’s face just lit up with excitement, so much friendly energy as her eyes squinted with a such a smile. Her dainty wings flittered. Oh my Source, she was a treasure. With two little flutters of her wings, she floated up and wrapped a hug around my neck. She drew back, her blue eyes on mine as she said in her tiny voice, “I like your name too, Elle. Can we be friends too? Mom told me about you when I was eating breakfast. I said I wanted to meet you.”

  I whispered to Ginelle, “Oh, she is just wonderful.”

  “Mom said it’s too dangerous for me to play with my friends alone.”

  “She likes to talk,” Ginelle said on a snicker.

  “Can I bring my friends? I like it up here. You’d like my friends. There’s Cindy and Julie and Bethany.” She gave me a semi-serious look as I held her balanced on my hip. “I won’t bring any boys, I promise.”

  “Well, that sounds like a great idea,” I replied, sending her face to beam again.

  “Oh, thank you.” She swiveled her head to Ginelle. “Mom, can we, please?”