Wingman: Alien Castaways (Intergalactic Dating Agency)

by Cara Bristol

  “It’s magic.” He winked. “Just follow the road to the field.”

  They joined the throng and passed under a fragrant lavender arch onto a gravel road. Izzy skipped along, but maternal guilt weighed heavily on Delia as her thoughts turned to her job and the abduction. Why did it always seem like she fell short? While her daughter was being abducted, she’d been sleeping in. She didn’t get off work until the wee hours of the morning, and then it took her a while to unwind and fall asleep. She’d gotten used to being tired all the time, but if she didn’t get at least four or five hours, she couldn’t function the next day.

  The Whitetail job had seemed perfect at first, located in town, a short walk from home. The night shift allowed her to stay with Izzy during the day. And tips were better at night.

  But now she wondered if she’d done the right thing by moving from Pittsburgh. If an abduction could occur in broad daylight in a small town where everybody knew everybody, no place was safe.

  Music, laughter, and shouts filtered through the trees, along with the smell of hot dogs, cotton candy, and lavender. They emerged onto a large field where kids screamed from atop the tilt-a-whirl, octopus, and Ferris wheel rides. Barkers shouted invitations for people to try their hand at ring toss and dart games. Jugglers on stilts picked their way among a crowd of hundreds. This was a big event!

  “Hey, little lady, would you care for an animal or maybe a crown?” Dressed in a red-and-white jumpsuit, a clown pulled balloons from his pocket. His big red nose was a stick-on, but the horns looked surprisingly realistic—not that she’d ever seen a man with horns. Unfortunately, the poor guy sported a bad sunburn. The combination of reddened skin and horns gave him a devilish appearance. However, his smile was wide and friendly.

  “Yes, thank you,” Izzy answered. “What should I get, Mom?”

  “Crown.” Izzy could wear it. Delia would get stuck carrying a balloon animal.

  While he twisted the balloons into an elaborate headdress, she noted a magician with tiger-like facial make-up performing tricks. A blue man with a tail, a devil clown, a tiger magician…maybe the man with wings who’d saved Izzy was one of the festival performers! He’d probably arrived in town in advance of the event and had been rehearsing.

  That had to be it because the other option—that he was an angel—was impossible. Devils and angels did not exist. An agnostic, Delia didn’t believe in god. She just hadn’t been able to totally let go yet. She’d told Izzy her Daddy had gone to Heaven because it was less traumatic than to say he was gone forever.

  Crowned with a balloon tiara, Izzy tugged her toward the rides. They rode the Ferris wheel, the carousel, and the octopus. Izzy screamed and clung to Delia’s hand while Delia tried to hold onto her breakfast. To her immense relief, Izzy didn’t meet the height requirement to ride the tilt-a-whirl. She would have hated to tell her no, but she couldn’t have survived the ride without making an embarrassing mess.

  At the game booths, Izzy tried the water balloon and ring tosses, and then they came upon Psy the Seer. You think it, I’ll guess it, the sign read. Seated on a gilded throne, the turbaned fortune teller wore a flowing robe decorated with sparkling stars. On a table in front of him, he had a crystal ball.

  Izzy stared. “What’s a see—see—”

  “Seer. He’s a fortune teller.”

  “I want my fortune told!”

  “Step right up!” Psy the Seer called.

  “I don’t know…”

  “Please, Mom…”

  She eyed the sign. “How much?”

  “It’s free. Included in admission.”

  “How does it work?”

  “You ask me a question about yourself, and I guess the answer.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t see any harm in it. It could provide a teachable moment about the difference between reality and fantasy. She nudged her daughter. “Go ahead.”

  “What’s your question, Izzy?” Psy the Seer asked.

  She pursed her lips. “How old am I?”

  “Hmm…that’s a hard one. Let me check my crystal ball.” He squinted as he waved his hands over the swirly blue sphere. “Six!”

  “You’re right!” Then she canted her head. “How did you know my name?”

  Wariness skittered through Delia. He had called her Izzy, and she was pretty sure she hadn’t used her daughter’s name.

  He fixed a piercing gaze on Delia. “Don’t you want to ask your question?”

  “Nope, no question.” She grabbed Izzy’s arm and pulled her away. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “He’s not an angel, but he does have wings,” the seer called out.

  Chills traveled up her spine. She turned. “What did you say?”

  “The man on your mind,” the fortune teller said. “He means you no harm. He’s here today.”

  Now she had the creeps. Obviously, this charlatan and the “angel” were buds, and the angel had told him to watch for them at the festival. Maybe the kidnapping attempt had been a setup; maybe this guy was the ice cream truck guy.

  As she urged Izzy through the crowd, she wondered if she was letting her fears run away with her. But after finding a strange man sitting in their living room—and then learning Izzy had almost been kidnapped—she could be forgiven a little paranoia. She stopped and bent to eye level. “Did the fortune teller look familiar to you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Did he look like the ice cream guy?”

  “No! The ice cream guy had a beard and a tattoo on his neck.”

  “You didn’t tell me about the tattoo.”

  “I forgot.”

  Great. Had she known about the tat, she could have given a better description to the cops—not that they would do anything. They had her pegged as a nut case. “Is there anything else you forgot to tell me?”

  “No. The seer was talking about Angel, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  “He said he’s not an angel.” Izzy’s brows drew together. “If he’s not an angel, how can he have wings?”

  “Maybe he’s a performer, like the clowns.”

  “There he is!” Izzy pointed to the sky.

  Wearing his wings, the “angel” tumbled and soared with the greatest of ease—due no doubt to invisible wires attached to the towering crane. People watched from bleachers around a makeshift arena as he performed aerial somersaults. So, he was a carnival performer like she’d guessed.

  “Let’s watch the show,” she said, wanting to get a better look at the guy.

  They climbed to the top of the risers for the best viewing. Although she couldn’t see the wires connecting to his harness, the latter, buckled around his torso, was clearly visible. He leaped into the air, and, with outstretched wings, circled overhead, “flying” faster and faster. She had to concede he gave a convincing performance.

  To the gasps of the crowd, he dove straight down.

  “He’s gonna crash!” Izzy covered her eyes.

  “No, he won’t. He’s wearing a harness. Watch.” But, what if? She’d never forgive herself if the guy killed himself in front of Izzy. The crane yanked him to safety at the last second, sweeping him upward again to the applause of an awed crowd. Up, up, up he went and then dove into a loop-the-loop. It was amazing his invisible wires didn’t tangle.

  He circled the arena again, this time coming in close to the bleachers.

  “Angel! Angel! It’s me, Izzy!” Her daughter stood up and waved.

  He waved back.

  Delia returned a halfhearted salute. Now what? Thanks to Izzy, he knew they were here. Should she confront him and try to get answers or sneak away? It made her nervous that he’d spoken to the fortune teller, giving the man enough of a description for him to guess who they were. There was nothing unique about them to cause them to stand out among all the other festival goers.

  He landed in the center of the arena and bowed as the audience applauded and whistled. Show over, everyone tromped off the bleachers. When she and Izzy g
ot to the bottom, she found the winged man waiting for them. “Good performance,” she said, acknowledging his acrobatic skill.

  “Death-defying!” Izzy said.

  Delia looked at her. “Death-defying? Where’d you come up with that?”

  “I heard it on TV.”

  Her daughter had a mind like a steel trap. Too bad she couldn’t remember to stay in the house when she’d been told to.

  “Can I talk to you?” he asked. He’d removed the harness but left the wings, now pulled close to his body. If he folded them a little tighter, he could swing a cape around his shoulders and nobody would realize he had wings. Nothing supernatural or magical. Just a well-fitting costume and dash of showmanship. Mystery explained.

  She didn’t know why he’d want to speak to her, but she had some questions for him, beginning with what he knew about the ice cream man. “All right.”

  “Can we walk?”

  Clasping Izzy’s hand, she stepped into place beside him, and they left the arena. “Your show was impressive,” she conceded.

  “Thank you. My friend’s wife owns Lavender Bliss Farm, and she organized this festival. She asked some of us to help with the entertainment.” He stopped walking. “We weren’t ever introduced. My name is…Wynn…but friends call me Wingman.”

  “Delia Mason.”

  “I apologize for alarming you the other day and for breaking things in your home. I’d like to pay for the damages.”

  “It’s all right. It was just a few dishes.”

  “And my cake,” Izzy piped up.

  “And her birthday cake.” With her daughter listening in, she’d be limited in what she could say. She spotted kids lined up to enter a bounce house. “Would you like to go in the bounce house?” she asked her daughter.

  “Yeah!”

  She gestured to the huge inflatable. “Get in line, then, and wait your turn. After you do the bounce house, come back here. Do you understand? Don’t go anyplace else.”

  She ran to get in line, and as soon as she was out of earshot, Delia said, “Tell me about the ice cream man.”

  “He drove a white van playing music. After Izzy bought a treat, he asked if she wanted a ride home. When she declined, he tried to force her into his vehicle.”

  She pressed a hand to her throat, sick all over again.

  “I showed up, and he released her and drove away.”

  “Do you remember what he looked like?”

  “Long beard, dark glasses. He had a hat on backward.”

  “Izzy said he had a tattoo?” She glanced at the bounce house. A group of kids filed out; another group waited to enter. Izzy stood at the front of the line. She waved.

  “Several. Across his knuckles.” He swiped a finger across the back of his broad, masculine hand. His neck.” He touched his throat. “A picture of a knife and a gun, I think.”

  “I never did thank you,” she said, feeling guilty. “If you hadn’t been there…”

  “I’m not familiar with local customs, but when he grabbed her and she screamed, I knew something was wrong.”

  Local customs? What did he mean by that? “I told her to stay in the house. I work nights. Sometimes I have to grab an hour’s nap to get through the day,” she explained. “I had no idea she’d left the house. I’m sorry for how I acted at her birthday party.”

  “I figured it wasn’t appropriate for me to attend, but I had a hunch she might not tell you what had happened. I apologize for scaring you.” He had puppy dog eyes, brown and soulful.

  “She told me you were coming, but I didn’t believe you were real. It was a shock to see you,” she admitted.

  “A mother protecting her child—totally understandable.” His sweet, crooked grin had her focusing on his mouth. “Why didn’t you think I was real?”

  “My daughter has pretend friends. She told me she’d met an angel.”

  “I told her I wasn’t an angel…”

  Izzy entered the bounce house.

  “Do you do other performances? Is that why you wear wings?”

  She watched Izzy jump around and laugh with glee. Her daughter was the light of her life. Losing Josh had been bad, but she’d gotten over it because she’d had to for Izzy. But if anything ever happened to her daughter…

  Wingman had saved her, and Delia owed him more than she could repay.

  “This festival is the only performance I’ve ever done. I have wings because they’re attached. They’re real.”

  Here she’d thought they’d been having an honest discussion, and she had begun to see him as a nice guy who happened to be in the right place at the right time. “Stop, okay? It’s not funny or cute to pretend you’re an angel or that you can fly. I’m grateful you rescued Izzy, but I’m losing patience with the wing business.”

  He unfurled his wings to a span of least six feet on either side, glanced around then turned sideways and pulled up his shirt to reveal a bare torso and wings growing from his back. No belts, Velcro, hooks, or other fasteners.

  “I’m not an angel, but I’m not human, either. I’m…’Topian, what you humans would call an alien.”

  Chapter Five

  “Your wings…you…you’re an alien?” Delia’s jaw dropped, and disbelief fell to amazement.

  Wingman tugged down his shirt.

  “Your flying around the arena…there weren’t any wires…you were…flying.”

  “Yes.” He hadn’t planned to reveal the truth, but she’d been suspicious of him, and her opinion mattered more than it should.

  She wasn’t a neglectful parent, but a concerned, loving, dedicated, vigilant mother doing her best to raise her daughter. Children were the same across the galaxy; they misbehaved and disobeyed. His antics as a fledgling had given his poor mother fits. A pang of grief shot through him at the loss of his parents and Lissa who’d been killed in the bombardment. He shoved aside the bad memory.

  “You said…you said your friends were helping the owner of this farm. The blue guy at the gate, the clown with the horns, the fortune teller—they’re aliens, too?” she asked.

  “Yes.” Kevanne, Chameleon’s mate, had suggested holding a carnival to introduce the castaways to the residents of Argent. Meet the locals while in the nonthreatening guise of costumed performers then reveal they were aliens.

  If they expected to live a normal life, maybe find mates, they had to feel comfortable enough to reveal they were extraterrestrials. They couldn’t be open about their specific origins, but the festival had shown they could find a middle ground. Being able to fly, to walk around with wings relaxed instead of folded and compacted had improved his mood as well as his physical comfort. This planet and his future on it appeared so much brighter today.

  “I had no idea aliens existed in Argent. How long have you been here?” Delia tucked her hair behind her ears, the sunlight making the strands glow.

  “A few months. Since we decided to stay on Earth, we’ve been assimilating into your society.”

  He’d lagged behind the others in that regard, preferring to self-isolate on the Castaway and then in the farmhouse they’d rented. He’d envied Psy and Chameleon who’d interacted freely with the locals because the former resembled a human and the latter could make himself look human. Once they’d determined it was safe for them all to emerge from hiding, letting down his guard had proven harder than he expected.

  “What brought you to Earth?”

  “Our ship needed major repairs.”

  “You can do that here?”

  “It took us a while to find someone with the technological capability to manufacture the parts we needed.” He omitted mentioning how the Castaway had been damaged when a Xeno Consortium fighter fired on it as they fled their planet. Nor did he feel it necessary to explain that the famed tech wizard Edwin Mysk wasn’t human but another ’Topian refugee who had landed on Earth fifty years ago.

  “When the ship is fixed, you’re leaving again?”

  “No, we’re settling here.” Since Earth put
them out of reach of the Consortium, it offered the best chance of survival and an opportunity to mate. He had hoped to meet his genmate among Mysk’s people, but there wasn’t a single Avian in the group.

  Delia was the first human he’d revealed himself to, and it left him exposed, vulnerable. By nature, Avians were cautious, and he had cause to be wary. He wouldn’t have revealed himself at all, except for some reason it mattered this human think well of him. He couldn’t let her believe him a charlatan.

  Izzy charged out of the bounce house and skipped toward them. “Can we ride the horses now?”

  “Uh…um…yeah. Lunch first.” Delia glanced between him and Izzy as if reluctant to part company. He hoped that was the case. This was the longest conversation he’d had with a human, and this woman fascinated him.

  “Hot dogs?” Izzy’s face lit up.

  “Since this is a fun day, and there aren’t any healthier options anyway, you can have a hot dog.”

  “Canines are not good to eat?” he asked.

  Izzy laughed. “Silly.”

  “Why is that funny?”

  “Hot dogs are beef and pork sausages served in a bun. They’re also called franks. Most people on this planet don’t eat dogs. They’re pets,” Delia said.

  He felt relieved the cute little white dog she’d brought home wouldn’t end up on the dinner table.

  “Maybe I could join you for a hot dog and then we could go on the horseback ride together?”

  “I would like that.” Delia smiled.

  “Yay.” Izzy danced around. “This is the best day.”

  He had to agree. He felt ridiculously pleased.

  They purchased hot dogs and Cokes from a food vendor, and, after Delia explained how to put toppings like mustard, relish, ketchup, and onions on the franks, they moved to a shaded picnic table to eat. He enjoyed the hot dog and went back for a second, after which the three of them headed for the corral.

  “Are you just doing the one show?” Delia asked. “We’re not keeping you from anything, are we?”

  “I have another two this afternoon, but I have plenty of time for a horseback ride.”

  Outside the paddock, two rows of ten animals were lined up, saddled, and ready. Riders sat astride most of them.