Feather: Book One

by Abra Ebner

  In the morning, I rose to the deafening sound of sparrows and robins in the trees outside the cabin. I looked to my clock, determining I had more time today than I had yesterday, more time to prepare before Scott would inevitably come knocking. I threw my head back into the pillow in annoyance, to my disappointment, my dreams had remained blank all night and the raven had not returned.

  I crawled out of bed and grabbed the same jeans I’d worn the day before, now grimy and smelling of damp denim and fish. Digging deeper in the bag I also grabbed a deep blue thermal tee, which thankfully, was fresh and clean. Eventually I feared I would need to do some laundry.

  Walking to the bathroom, I slid the pocket door shut behind me and snapped the small lock out of habit. I grabbed some soap from the basin of the shower and washed my face in brisk strokes, slightly spooked that when I opened my eyes, a raven would be standing there. Brushing my hair, I thought about the professor’s powerful physique and amazing strength. He was like a Greek god, but without the weight rooms and triathlons. He was a far cry from all the boys I’d seen back in High School and I couldn’t help but acknowledge the fact that he was exceedingly attractive.

  Staring in the mirror, I became lost in my clear blue eyes. I forgot the professor and instead began wondering why nothing laid there behind something so beautiful and clear. I had seen the life in Scott’s eyes, the lucid depth of happiness and feeling. Mine were completely stripped of that spark, replaced by doped and forged emotion that only reflected emptiness. I finally pulled my gaze away as my eyebrows pushed together in disgust.

  I walked back into the main space and approached the window, the sunlight streaming into the room in sharp blades. The purple flower on the sill had begun to multiply, two new sprigs sprung from the moist dirt as they began to yawn their gentle petals toward the morning light. I touched one leaf as it opened toward me. I sighed at its loving beauty, grateful that at least it had seemed content with its simple life.

  As I glanced up from the plant and out the window, I saw Scott advancing up the hill toward my cabin. Rolling my eyes, I opened my door and gave him a wave of recognition, figuring I’d meet him half way. I knelt down for my boots, jumping back in shock by what laid beside it. Discarded near the sole, coaxed by the gentle breeze, was a single black feather. Not sure what to do next, I moved forward and knelt down, grasping the quill with a shaking hand and bringing it to my face. My breath fell upon the feather in measured waves as I examined its strange appearance.

  “What’s that?” Scott huffed as he approached me.

  I narrowed my eyes and stared at the separate follicles of the perfect feather, unfazed by his interruption. “It’s a feather,” I said blankly, my mind swimming with recognition. I twisted it in my hand, noticing the evident opalescent glow it possessed.

  Scott snatched it from my hand as I stood with my mouth open in amazement.

  “A crow feather,” Scott replied.

  I slowly knelt down and grabbed my boots, my eyes still wide as I motioned to pull them on. “I think it’s a raven feather actually,” I corrected him guilefully.

  Scott gave me a confounded look, “Raven, crow. What’s the difference?”

  I discreetly rolled my eyes, snapping out of my trance, unwilling to correct his dim-witted statement a second time. “Sure, maybe you’re right,” I replied.

  Scott pushed the feather back to me and I ran inside to place it on my bed stand. Its beauty was breathtaking, and the way it sat on the table made it seem like it was weightless. I heard Scott whistle with impatience outside so I quickly grabbed the framed note from my mother and touched my hands to the words, “I love you mother,” I whispered before placing it back on the stand next to the feather.

  I grabbed my bag and rushed out the door as Scott stood tapping his foot with his hands in his pockets. “Sorry,” I breathed as I reached his side, “I know we’re late.”

  His innocent smile suggested he hadn’t cared, but I knew he was just being passive-aggressive.

  We walked down the hill in silence as I considered the appearance of the feather and how it could be linked to the nightmare from yesterday. It had all seemed surreal in the new light of another day and as we approached the cafeteria, I was anxious to get to the bird lab. There was so much I needed to learn.

  Today, Scott piled his plate high with what appeared to be country hash browns and tofu gravy. Looking at his massive portion made my stomach curdle with disgust and I fought back the sudden urge to puke. I again opted for a bran muffin, figuring it would be the easiest on my stomach. As we sat at the same table, I watched Scott shovel spoonful after spoonful of the vomit looking substance into his mouth as I urged myself to eat, despite the nauseated feeling he was giving me.

  “So,” Scott looked up at me as he at last began to get full, “You think you’ll make it through all your classes today?”

  I shrugged, “I’d hope.” I took a moment to swallow my last bite of muffin, “Depends on what Professor Edgar has me do today I suppose.”

  Scott let out a menacing chuckle, “You’ve got to figure the worst is over, he never picks on the same person twice.”

  I looked at him sideways, “Is it normal for people to react the way I did? For him to react the way he had?” I was searching to see if it had just been me or if I was imagining that there was some connection.

  Scott snorted under his breath and raised his eyebrows, “I don’t know. That sure was weird, but seeing as he’s weird all around, I wouldn’t really worry about it.” He gave me a playful wave with his hand that told me to brush it off, but I couldn’t.

  I was eager to get through with hatchery class, anxious to see those eyes again. We took our plates to the cleaning tubs and left the cafeteria a little early, our paces still in overdrive from the rush of earlier. We arrived at the hatchery and again the room was empty. Scott shuffled to the tanks and peered into its depths. I hung back, fearing that if there was a repeat of yesterday, eventually Scott would have to notice something about me really was strange.

  “Hey look!” Scott pointed to my same tank, “This tank has one fish that’s much bigger than the rest.” His voice was shrill and annoying.

  I rolled my eyes, knowing it was the fish I’d helped yesterday. He had grown overnight as I’d suspected he might.

  “He must have jumped from one of the adjoining tanks,” he said frankly, trying to rationalize the occurrence. Scott’s theory was deeply flawed considering both adjacent tanks were filled with smaller fish.

  I nodded, “Hmm… Must be.”

  He looked at me with a proud grin as though he had accomplished some grand feat.

  I would have at least expected he would notice that there were still a dozen fish in each tank. So unless one jumped to that specific tank while one from the tank in question jumped to the other, nothing about his statement rang true. I averted my gaze from him, hoping he wouldn’t see through to me.

  To my relief, the rest of the class trickled in and I again sunk to the back of the room, even farther away from the tanks, if that was even possible. The professor showed the class different vials containing different breeds of fertilized fish eggs. From far away they looked like little less than small dots and I didn’t really see the point. I didn’t necessarily prefer the idea of fish eggs, something so slimy, so disgusting.

  I glanced out the high narrow windows of the hatchery toward the glacial peak across the lake. Being that I spent most of my life in Seattle, I still hadn’t really seen snow, at least, not in the way I would hope. The slushy mess in the city was more of a wet inconvenience rather than a beautiful occurrence. I’d often wondered, over the sounds of traffic, if snow made a sound. My eyes scanned the ominous misty clouds as they circled the highest peak like smoke. For a while, I let the tranquility of the scene engulfed me as the world around me fell away.

  I closed my eyes, imagining the feeling of being up on that peak, imagining what it was like to be the cloud, wrapping my arms around the mountain wi
th the real feeling of love and freedom. When I opened my eyes a few minutes later, I fell back to my sad reality. My heart hadn’t felt the way my mind had and I looked back to the class in miserable defeat.

  The students were now passing the vials around the room and I watched with fear as they made their way toward me. I slammed my hands deep into the pockets of my jeans as Scott thrust one vile in my face. I pursed my lips in my best imitation of disgust and shook my head in rejection. Scott shrugged and passed them back forward. I wasn’t about to touch the egg, dead or alive, the outcome would be horrifically hard to lie about, or try and hide.

  After the vials were returned to the front, the professor dumped each into a separate tank that sat on her desk. My guess, since I hadn’t been listening, was it was so that we could watch the hatching process throughout the week. I took a deep breath before exhaling, realizing I had narrowly escaped this one.

  The class was dismissed and the room broke out into the low hum of quiet conversation. One group of students gathered in the corner where it was no secret whom they were talking about as their eyes shot back and forth between Scott and me, their voices reverberating in hushed tones against the walls. I swallowed hard as I began to feel uncomfortable and I made an annoyed move to leave.

  Scott took no notice of them as we made our way to the door, though my eyes were fixed on their cold expressions.

  A sudden snort grumbled in Scott’s throat and I forcibly broke the gaze to look at him. “Well, off to see Professor Doom now,” He eyed me sideways.

  I gave him an annoyed punch on the arm, making him laugh and jump away from me, a flirtatious action to any onlooker, though it was anything but.

  As we walked to the lab down the gravel path, I let the crunching sound of the calm the beating of my heart. I couldn’t tell if I was scared, or just anxious but there was a feeling inside me that I had never really felt before. As Scott opened the large door to the lab, my eyes fell on the familiar scene from my dream, yet more realistic and a lot less fogged.

  We took our same stools in the back row and I sat there tapping my fingers on the table, looking down into the milky white of the Formica counter and letting my hair fall in white curtains around my face. I felt Scott’s eyes on me and I knew he was worried. He gave me a characteristic and awkward pat on the back and I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing he’d just leave me alone.

  Each student whispered in harsh tones as they passed by my stool on their way in. I glared at each, knowing my face could be equally as threatening as the professor’s had been. My pale sharp features were easy to manipulate, they had to be if I expected to fit in and smile from time to time.

  The door to the front again squeaked open and the room fell to the same stone cold hush. The professor entered the room, a small owl perched on his shoulder like a statue, but this time, my chest didn’t sting and I was surprised. I watched the professor like a hawk as he paced with confidence to the front.

  The grey eyes behind his tinted lenses no longer possessed the same intensity they had before and there was something that felt different about him, more guarded. His porcelain face and dark hair was perfectly cared for and I’d wondered how someone could look so good when exposed to so little in the rugged seclusion of the mountains.

  “Alright class,” he boomed, scanning each student, but this time omitting my gaze. “This is a Northern Spotted Owl,” he continued, lifting the small bird in the air for everyone to see.

  There was no sign of the same wicked intensity from yesterday but I could still feel the gravitational pull toward him. It felt as though a small string was attached to my chest and he was reeling me in one small click at a time. I sat on the edge of my stool, my eyes still fixed on his, urging him to look at me.

  “He is from the Strigidae family and classified as vulnerable under our conservation status.” The owl turned its head as though it were unattached to its body, his reflective yellow eyes flashing calmly like a cat at night.

  “Because they live in old growth forests, we must learn to care for them respectively.” He paced in large strides at the front of the room.

  I was frustrated by his sudden change of mood toward me, he was ignoring me and I hated it. I squirmed on my stool with obnoxious intent, trying anything I could to gain his interest.

  Scott whispered from the corner of his mouth, “You ok Elle?”

  I flagrantly nodded as he continued his statuesque position beside me, eyeing me with a nervous glare.

  Time passed as the professor droned on about the owl and I eventually gave up. My initial excitement about the professor, and also the condition of the hawk had began to subside and I began to wonder if yesterday had really happened. If he knew anything, he wasn’t going to reveal it to the class, but still, his eyes mesmerized me and the strange pull toward him remained. As the minutes passed, I could feel the string between us growing taught, almost to a level I couldn’t resist.

  “And that will be all,” he finally boomed.

  I snapped out of the dazed stare I had on him as he bowed to the class, breaking his hold over me. It was like someone had taken out a pair of scissors and snipped the line, the sudden relief like releasing a catapult on my chest.

  He elegantly strode out of the room with a speed that amazed me. I sat there dazed for a moment as my mind worked through the fog that had still rolled in despite his changed demeanor. Scott stood from his stool as he stared at me, poised to catch me should I faint yet again.

  “You okay there Elle?” he stammered, not sure if he could handle another trip to the nurse.

  The hint of concern in his voice only irritated me further. Why hadn’t Edgar approached me? Why hadn’t he questioned me about what had happened the previous day? I released the angry grip I had on the table as I grabbed for my bag, storming past Scott and pushing through the doors.

  Scott followed me like a timid pet dog.

  I took a deep breath, “What is that guy’s problem!” I screeched, my voice cutting across the courtyard.

  Scott looked at me with a sad face, and for a moment, I felt guilty for snapping at him. His eyes were wide and his lip trembled as he shrugged, finding himself at a loss for words.

  “I’m sorry Scott,” I let down my guard and walked back toward him, giving him a friendly pat on the arm. “I didn’t mean to snap at you, it’s just…” I quickly thought of what to use as an excuse, “It’s just that he didn’t even apologize to me for what he did.”

  A look of relief crossed his face, “Yeah,” he paused as his demeanor now changed back to his awkward bubbly self, “He’s just a weird guy.”

  I faked a laugh, figuring it would help to put the whole incident behind us. We began walking again as we made our way to the greenhouses and what I would hope to be my favorite class. I needed something to calm me, something to regroup my thoughts.

  The greenhouses were past the cafeteria down a long outdoor hallway created by the eves of the adjacent buildings. As we entered onto the trail that passed through a large field, the tall grasses bowed toward me as though I was a magnet and they were made of metal. Scott looked around him with suspicion, but the bending grass was so slight, it was hard for him to believe what exactly he was seeing.

  “So how was this class yesterday?” I asked, making a strategic move to distract him.

  His gaze tried to break away from the grasses. “Good. We uh…” he was still looking around uneasily, unable to look away, “Well I mean, after I took you to the infirmary, we planted some sunflower seeds and learned about edible plants.”

  My eyebrows rose, trying to create more drama, “Edible plants huh?”

  “Yeah,” his voice sounded far off and dazed.

  I cleared my throat in an attempt to break his attention. The stunned look began to leave his face and he looked me in the eye.

  “So if we’re ever out hiking or get lost, we know what we can and can’t eat,” he continued.

  To my relief, I could see his attention to the gras
ses had been lost and I mentally awarded myself for successfully confusing him. The wind blew freely through my hair, wrapping it around me as it loved to do.

  “Well that’s always a useful tool isn’t it, knowing what won’t poison us?” I ventured.

  He nodded gravely, now mesmerized by my eyes in the sun. As we finally reached the door to the green house, his mind had been completely lost. I thought to myself for a brief moment, if he thought the grasses were odd, wait until he saw what would happen inside. I only hoped they’d had wide enough aisles so I could distance myself away from the plants enough so not to create any major waves.

  Scott grabbed the handle and flew open the doors. To my relief, my wishes had been granted as spacious and wide halls were laid out the whole length of the room. Everything was cast in a warm green color from the glass, and the humid air of the greenhouse was welcoming against my fair skin. Any environment where plants could thrive always made me feel exceedingly more comfortable, and soon, as my tension relaxed, so did the pull I had on the plants.

  “So here we are…” His voice trailed off. He watched me in amazement as I approached a long bench of planted lilies.

  Each lily slowly turned its petals toward me, so slowly that it was hardly discernable. It was as though I was the sun, and I saw Scott choke up completely.

  “How did you…” He stammered.

  I whipped my head to face him. “How did I what?” I questioned with confidence, figuring like always, it was easy to convince people they’d just imagined it. It was human nature that no one wanted to admit they were crazy.

  “Never mind,” he looked down, shaking his head in disbelief, internally fighting with what he had, or rather hadn’t seen.

  As the rest of the class filled the room and the lilies paled in comparison to the crowded space and I felt a sense of relief. Among all the students, it would be easy to keep my secret. I stood perfectly still, breathing as light as possible.

  The rest of the day Scott eyed me with confusion. Eventually I was able to trick his mind so deeply that he hadn’t even known where the sky was. After our last class, he walked me toward my cabin, but his new found silence was a worrisome addition.