Bird Song (Grace Series)

by S. L. Naeole

  He let go of Stacy’s arm and pointed to the shimmering stone in his hand. “If this is what she’s not ready for, you’re mistaken, Stacy. And, just in case you were wondering, I’m more than ready for whatever this is, because whatever this is, it doesn’t change how I feel. I’ve been feeling it for far too long and far too deeply for it to simply just go away.”

  Stacy grabbed Lark’s arm, surprise and hurt shimmering in her eyes, and shook her head. “You knew…you knew about how he felt about you and you still let him ask me out.”

  Lark, having remained silent all this time, stepped forward, an explanation ready to burst from her mouth, but Stacy held up her hand to stop her. “No, don’t—you don’t have to explain anything to me. What you did, you did because you were my friend. You kept the truth from me because you didn’t want to hurt me—I understand that.”

  She turned to look at Graham, a sad smile on her face. “I told you we weren’t suited for each other.”

  Despite the tension in the air, Graham managed to smirk at that. “Well, you don’t get to hear this from me that often so cherish this moment—you were right, Stacy.”

  “I know I’m right—I usually am.”

  Graham shook his head; Stacy was always going to be Stacy. “I need to know what’s going on.” He looked at Lark, and then at me. “Grace, I need to know. Whatever it is, whatever the hell all of this is, I’m ready for it.”

  “Are you, Graham?” Robert asked, his voice overflowing with doubt. “Are you certain you’re ready for this?” He stepped towards Graham, pushing me behind him as he did so. I choked on my response when I saw the back of his jacket begin to push upwards, bulging from the activity beneath it.

  “Robert, no!” I cried, already too late.

  “You think the truth is going to make all of your questions go away,” Robert said, a statement more than a question.

  The sound of ripping fabric and Stacy’s gasp were lost in the sound of the darkening forest coming alive at the appearance of Robert’s ebony wings, nothing but black, branch like protrusions at first, followed by full plumes glistening like wet onyx. He expanded them, their tips reaching out well beyond our little circle to touch the trunks of trees several meters away.

  “What…what the hell are you, man?” Graham breathed as he took a step back, his eyes widening in shock, his breathing speeding up from fear.

  “I’m the truth that you’ve been looking for, Graham, what you’ve been so desperate to know,” Robert said snidely as he stepped forward to close the distance between them, his wings fluttering as they folded inward. “You wanted to know the truth, you wanted to see what Grace has been lying to you about. Here it is.”

  “Robert, stop,” Lark finally shouted.

  Graham’s head whipped around to look at her, as though seeing her for the first time. In truth, it was.

  “If he’s a…a bird, then what are you?”

  Lark shook her head angrily. “He’s not a bird, Graham. Take a good look at him with open eyes—see him for what he is.”

  With great difficulty, Graham turned to face Robert, the two of them making for a striking study in contrast; Robert, with his dark hair and pale skin was almost a negative of Graham’s blonde hair and tanned skin. “I don’t know—I don’t know what you are. You’ve got wings, man! What the hell kind of person has wings? Birds and bats have wings—you’re a manager of a movie theater, for Pete’s sake!”

  “Astute as always, Graham,” Robert said mockingly.

  Stacy grabbed Graham’s hand and pulled him towards Lark. “You aren’t helping, Robert. If you cannot figure out what Robert and Lark are by looking at him, Graham, then take a look at her—really look at her for who she is, without pretending, without pretenses.”

  “What’s a pretense?”

  “God, just forget that and look!”

  Graham’s gaze became glued to Lark, his eyes taking in her silver dress that matched exactly the light silver of her eyes. He watched her as the last glint of light disappeared from the cracks of the canopy above us, night finally settling in. The increased darkness revealed to Graham what it was that he could not see in Robert, what death had not robbed from her.

  “Holy wow,” he breathed, as the soft glow that emanated from her began to stretch out. “That’s incredible…it’s like you’re some kind of angel or something.” He stepped closer to her and stroked at the diffused light, his movements making it seem like he could actually feel the light itself.

  “That’s because that’s what I am,” Lark admitted in a shaky yet hopeful voice.

  “I’ve always known that,” Graham replied with a soft laugh, though his face revealed nothing but wonder and amazement.

  Lark took a hesitant step closer to him, her eyes cautious. She raised her hand up, her palm facing out towards him. His hand lifted to press against it, his gasp coming out in a stuttered burst as the connection became complete and the truth that couldn’t be explained in mere words began to flow between them. “Awesome,” he whispered as his gaze locked with hers.

  Stacy and I held our breaths as we waited, my heart racing, speeding up with each deep breath that Graham took in. His eyes grew wider with every minute that went by; recognition, confusion, and understanding blinking in flashes, something that the two of us were very familiar with.

  Lark’s face seemed to grow brighter as she shared with him things that I knew were only for him, things that she had never shared with anyone…not even Luca—I don’t know how I knew this, I just did. Perhaps it was the sly smile passing over her lips that was quintessential Lark; maybe it was the way her pupils grew darker as the light silver ring that was her eyes grew thinner and lighter, telling me that she was pleased, inordinately pleased.

  I only knew that when she finally attempted to lower her hand, and Graham refused to let it go, there wasn’t anything else left to fear from him learning the truth.

  “This is incredible,” he breathed, his free hand lifting to touch the velveteen steel that was Lark’s face. “Freaking amazing, even.”

  “Are you certain?” Lark asked hesitantly.

  “I’m more than certain,” Graham nodded enthusiastically. “How can I not be? I’m in love with a flippin’ angel!” He sobered up immediately as he realized that Lark wasn’t beaming like he was, her smile still sad, despite his acceptance of who she was.

  “What’s the matter? Isn’t this supposed to be a good thing? I know the truth now—no more secrets.”

  Lark shook her head. “It’s not that.”

  Graham looked at her and grimaced as he saw the pained expression in her eyes. “Then what is it?”

  “I told you—it hurts to know what I feel for you. It hurts to feel it.”

  Graham looked at her with stark confusion. “I don’t understand.”

  I dodged around Robert and grabbed Graham’s arm. “Graham, there’s something you need to understand about Lark and her kind. They cannot tell lies—it hurts them.”

  “What lie did she tell?” he asked, his confusion only deepening.

  “She told you—us, actually—she promised to never love anyone else, feel anything like that ever again.” I looked at Lark, finally understanding why she had never been able to talk about it without looking so troubled, so pained by it all. “Loving you wasn’t what she had planned—love isn’t ever something you plan out, you can’t ever promise to never feel it—so when you became a part of her life, she became a liar, and loving you physically hurts her.”

  Graham’s face drooped as realization began to dawn on him. “You mean that by feeling the same way about me that I do about her, she’s in pain?”

  I nodded, sadly. “Yes, but…” I looked at Lark and saw the despair in her eyes. “But something’s not right.”

  Everyone’s gaze was focused on me as I began to go over the past events, the moments where lies had done nothing but been mild irritants, and where assumed lies had been actual truths. “Lark, you promised to never feel for Graham wh
at you felt for Luca, right?”

  She nodded, her confusion now matching Graham’s. I looked at the two of them and then I looked at Robert. “Remember when I had received that note from Sam and I thought it had been from Robert? You kept getting those annoying pains because the note was a lie—you just didn’t know it was a lie at the time, which is why it hurt so much.”

  “Yes, but what does that have to do with this? I know what I felt, Grace. I did love Luca, very much—you do not mistake those feelings for simple juvenile affection,” Lark replied.

  “Yes, I know. That’s not what I meant. Ugh—why is it that when I don’t want you in my head, you’re always in there and when it would be easier if you were, you choose to stay out?” I shook my head and grabbed Lark’s hand, removing it from Graham’s. “You’re feeling hurt because you’re lying to yourself, Lark. Don’t you see?

  “You’re not feeling the same thing for Graham that you did for Luca because it’s not the same thing. It can’t be. Graham loves you, genuinely loves you, which is something that Luca did not, and you feel the same way. If Luca did love you, he wouldn’t have demanded you make that promise in the first place. He would have wanted you to move on and be happy. He wouldn’t have wanted you stuck on pause, denying yourself happiness and love all because he was gone. That’s not love, Lark; that’s control and manipulation.”

  Robert came to stand beside me and took his sister’s hand from mine. “Little sister, I’ve no reason to help you and Graham be together…except that I can see it would make you happy. Grace is right: you’ve carried this burden, this false love with you for too long. You’ve let it eat at you and destroy what love should mean, what it should be. Let the past die. Let it find peace with Luca.”

  Lark’s eyes began to shed sparkling tear after tear, each one falling and disappearing into the debris below our feet. Her glow shifted through the array of colors that each spoke of a different mood, a different feeling as she shed tears over her past for the last time.

  “I’m amazed,” she said to me when the storm of crystal had ceased, “that your ability to see things with your own mortal eyes surpasses what I can see with mine, blind though I may be.”

  “Hey, I don’t have the ability to read minds so I’ve got to make up for it by being observant,” I joked.

  “What you are,” Robert said as he released his sister’s hand and reached for mine, “is amazing.”

  “I’ll say,” Stacy chimed in.

  “That’s the truth,” Graham said, laughing.

  “Agreed,” Lark announced.

  SONG BIRD

  I grinned foolishly before I suddenly remembered something. “Stacy! You had something important to tell Lark, remember? She’s here—what better time than now to tell her what it is?”

  Stacy looked at the four of us, her smile suddenly falling. “I think it can wait.”

  Graham shook his head. “No it can’t, Stacy. You don’t have time for secrets.”

  “It can wait, Graham. This isn’t the time for something like this,” Stacy argued. “This time is for you two.”

  “What is it, Stacy?” I asked, curious now. “All I’ve heard come out of your mouth for the past few days as been ‘I have to tell Lark something’ and ‘I have something that Lark needs to know’. I think it’s only fair that after putting us through your constant hounding, you tell her.”

  Lark’s beautiful smile should have been enough encouragement as she nodded in agreement. “Please, tell us what it is.”

  Stacy shook her head, and then pressed her hands to her eyes. “I can’t.”

  Lark’s smile vanished as she looked at Stacy with a puzzled expression taking its place. As if lightning had struck, her entire body jerked still. She gasped, her eyes quickly moved to Robert—they were filled with fear.

  “Is it true?” she asked him.

  Robert looked at me, as though waiting for my approval. “Is what true?” I asked him. “What’s going on?”

  Stacy eyed the three of us warily and then turned to question Lark. “Why are you asking him if it’s true? Why would he know any more than you do?”

  Lark ignored the question and then turned to face her brother, repeating the question she had asked him. “Is it true? Tell me.”

  He nodded once and I flinched as I saw Lark’s eyes turn jet black with rage. Lark’s face began to crumble as she turned to face Stacy, her hands gently rubbing the bruises that were left there by Graham’s angry fingers. “It’ll be okay,” she said reassuringly. “I don’t care what he says, it’s going to be okay.”

  “What is going on?” I asked desperately.

  My head whipped around to look at Graham and then at Robert. “Will someone tell me what’s going on, since I’m apparently the only one out of the loop on this one?”

  I looked at four separate pairs of eyes, each one trying desperately to avoid direct contact with my own, as though they were each guilty of something that couldn’t be admitted to.

  Robert’s grim voice broke through the silence to answer me. “Stacy’s dying, Grace.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. She’s not dying—she’s only eighteen. Besides, if she were, you’d tell me, you’d warn me, right? Right, Robert?”

  When no answer came, I knew what it was.

  “You already knew, and you kept it from me.” I backed away, a hard pain sitting in my throat.

  Lark began to shake with anger, her body vibrating so violently, Graham was unable to hold her without harming himself. He quickly backed away and then looked at me with guilt in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry. Stacy made me promise not to tell and—I gotta be honest here—she scares me.”

  I nodded to him, but my eyes traveled back to Robert’s, who didn’t look apologetic at all. “And you have nothing to say?”

  “This is more important than you, Grace,” he replied before forcing me to turn around. “This is more important than you or me.”

  Stacy stood mere inches away from Lark as she spoke, her voice clear and steady, despite the gravity of her words. “This wasn’t how I wanted to tell you… You don’t need to ask Robert or Graham or go digging through the minds of the doctors in the oncology department at Licking Memorial or Newark or whatever else you’re planning. My cancer is back—it’s been back for a while actually, but I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t think it was that big of a deal—and the doctors and I have been fighting it.

  “Things were looking good, too…my markers were down and I was feeling fine. I didn’t think anything about it or spend any real time worrying about it either; the doctors had me on what appeared to be a pretty successful treatment regimen. It was shortly after Halloween that my markers started rising again, and by Christmas, my oncologist told my parents and me that there wasn’t much more they could do and so we’re kinda just winging it.”

  I was glad that I wasn’t the only person who was shocked by her cavalier attitude when I saw Lark’s hands grab Stacy’s arms roughly and began to shake her—or maybe it was that Lark’s own shaking was transferring onto her. “Are you crazy? You’re dying! Do you know what that means?”

  “Actually yes, I do. It means no more spending countless hours in the hospital feeling so sick that it’s almost impossible to believe that whatever it is that the doctors are doing to me is actually helping. It means no more watching my mom get her hopes up when the tests come back showing that instead of going down, my markers have gone up.

  “It means knowing that I don’t have decades ahead of me to screw up in life—I’ve got a few months, maybe a year to do what I want, how I want without the excuse of ‘that’ll kill me’ or ‘that’s too dangerous and reckless’ getting in the way because my life is already going to end.

  “I’m okay with this, guys. Really, I am. The doctors told me when I was seven that I might not even live to be ten; I proved them wrong for over eight years. That’s pretty good from where I’m standing.”

  Lark shook her head, as thoug
h unwilling to accept what Stacy already had.

  “This isn’t right. This isn’t fair. Robert, you have to do something, you have to change it,” Lark implored her brother.

  He reached out towards his sister, sadness weighing on him heavily as he told her what she already knew. “I cannot. I don’t get to decide these things, Lark, you know this.”

  “No. You’ve saved Grace’s life, you’ve defied her death over and over again—you can do this for Stacy. Do this for her, Robert. Or for me. Do it for me, please.” She pulled on the lapels of Robert’s torn jacket, tugging at it with such strength its seams finally gave up and fell apart in her hands.

  I closed my eyes and pressed my hand to my mouth, unwilling to accept that Lark was actually begging her brother for something, even if it was to keep Stacy alive.

  “I am tied to Grace, Lark. You know this—I can no more allow her to die than I can myself,” Robert tried to explain, but Lark wouldn’t hear of it, her head shaking roughly, her movements causing Stacy to shake as well.

  Graham and Stacy watched the exchange between brother and sister with utter disbelief written on their faces.

  “No. It’s not supposed to be this way,” Lark cried before falling to her knees in weak defeat, her hands releasing Stacy, her arms falling to the ground. “It’s not supposed to happen like this.”

  I didn’t understand what she was saying but as she bent over, I knew immediately what she meant. I grabbed Stacy out of the way and looked at Robert who already had his hand on Graham’s shoulder.

  “Let go of me, Robert. Something’s wrong with her,” Graham shouted as he struggled futilely against the iron hold that Robert had on him.

  “Nothing is wrong with her, Graham. Everything is right—trust me on this.”

  “Trust you? You’ve been reading my mind for the past six months, digging through my head and…aw hell, you’ve got wings, man. I’m not exactly sure who I can trust at the moment, but I’m fairly certain I’m not supposed to trust a guy with wings—and what’s with the black? Angels aren’t supposed to have black wings, man! Let me go!” Graham struggled but Robert effortlessly pulled him away from Lark, Graham’s feet leaving deep drag marks in the soil.