got a parka from the closet andran out into the front yard and out to the park and hid in the bushesuntil morning.
"He was asleep when I came back in, after Natalie and Link had goneout. I found the knife beside the house and I went up to our room and Istood there, by the window, listening to you talk to them, holding theknife."
She plumped herself on the cushions and flapped her wings once, softly,another puff of that warm air wafting over him. She picked up the tinrobot he'd given her from the coffee table and turned it over in herhands, staring up its skirts at the tuna-fish illustration and theJapanese ideograms.
"I had the knife, and I felt like I had to use it. You know Chekhov? 'Ifa gun is on the mantle in the first act, it must go off in the third.' Iwrite one-act plays. Wrote. But it seemed to me that the knife had beenin act one, when Krishna dragged me into the bathroom.
"Or maybe act one was when he brought it home, after I showed him mywings.
"And act two had been my night in the park. And act three was then,standing over him with the knife, cold and sore and tired, looking atthe blood crusted on his face."
Her face and her voice got very, very small, her expression distant. "Ialmost used it on myself. I almost opened my wrists onto his face. Heliked it when I... rode... his face. Like the hot juices. Seemedmean-spirited to spill all that hot juice and deny him that pleasure. Ithought about using it on him, too, but only for a second.
"Only for a second.
"And then he rolled over and his hands clenched into fists in his sleepand his expression changed, like he was dreaming about something thatmade him angry. So I left.
"Do you want to know about when I first showed him these?" she said, andflapped her wings lazily.
She took the ice pack from her face and he could see that the swellinghad gone down, the discoloration faded to a dim shadow tinged withyellows and umbers.
He did, but he didn't. The breeze of her great wings was strangelyintimate, that smell more intimate than his touches or the moment inwhich he'd glimpsed her fine, weighty breasts with their texture ofstretch marks and underwire grooves. He was awkward, foolish feeling.
"I don't think I do," he said at last. "I think that we should save somethings to tell each other for later."
She blinked, slow and lazy, and one tear rolled down and dripped off hernose, splashing on the red T-shirt and darkening it to wineish purple.
"Will you sit with me?" she said.
He crossed the room and sat on the other end of the sofa, his hand onthe seam that joined the two halves together, crossing the border intoher territory, an invitation that could be refused without awkwardness.
She covered his hand with hers, and hers was cold and smooth but notdistant: immediate, scritching and twitching against his skin. Slowly,slowly, she leaned toward him, curling her wing round his far shoulderlike a blanket or a lover's arm, head coming to rest on his chest,breath hot on his nipple through the thin fabric of his T-shirt.
"Alan?" she murmured into his chest.
"Yes?"
"What are we?" she said.
"Huh?"
"Are we human? Where do we come from? How did we get here? Why do I havewings?"
He closed his eyes and found that they'd welled up with tears. Once thefirst tear slid down his cheek, the rest came, and he was crying,weeping silently at first and then braying like a donkey in sobs thatstarted in his balls and emerged from his throat like vomit, gushing outwith hot tears and hot snot.
Mimi enveloped him in her wings and kissed his tears away, working downhis cheeks to his neck, his Adam's apple.
He snuffled back a mouthful of mucus and salt and wailed, "I don'tknow!"
She snugged her mouth up against his collarbone. "Krishna does," shewhispered into his skin. She tugged at the skin with her teeth. "Whatabout your family?"
He swallowed a couple of times, painfully aware of her lips and breathon his skin, the enveloping coolth of her wings, and the smell in everybreath he took. He wanted to blow his nose, but he couldn't move withoutbreaking the spell, so he hoarked his sinuses back into his throat anddrank the oozing oyster of self-pity that slid down his throat.
"My family?"
"I don't have a family, but you do," she said. "Your family must know."
"They don't," he said.
"Maybe you haven't asked them properly. When are you leaving?"
"Today."
"Driving?"
"Got a rental car," he said.
"Room for one more?"
"Yes," he said.
"Then take me," she said.
"All right," he said. She raised her head and kissed him on the lips,and he could taste the smell now, and the blood roared in his ears asshe straddled his lap, grinding her mons -- hot through the thin cottonof her skirt -- against him. They slid down on the sofa and they groanedinto each others' mouths, his voice box resonating with hers.
#
He parked the rental car in the driveway, finishing his cell phoneconversation with Lyman and then popping the trunk before gettingout. He glanced reflexively up at Mimi and Krishna's windows, saw theblinds were still drawn.
When he got to the living room, Mimi was bent over a suitcase, forcingit closed. Two more were lined up beside the door, along with threeshopping bags filled with tupperwares and ziplocs of food from hisfridge.
"I've borrowed some of your clothes," she said. "Didn't want to have togo back for mine. Packed us a picnic, too."
He planted his hands on his hips. "You thought of everything, huh?" hesaid.
She cast her eyes down. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice. "Icouldn't go home." Her wings unfolded and folded down again nervously.
He went and stood next to her. He could still smell the sex on her, andon him. A livid hickey stood out on her soft skin on her throat. Hetwined her fingers in his and dropped his face down to her ear.
"It's okay," he said huskily. "I'm glad you did it."
She turned her head and brushed her lips over his, brushed her hand overhis groin. He groaned softly.
"We have to get driving," he said.
"Yes," she said. "Load the car, then bring it around the side. I'll liedown on the back seat until we're out of the neighborhood."
"You've thought about this a lot, huh?"
"It's all I've thought of," she said.
#
She climbed over the back seat once they cleared Queen Street, gigglingas her wings, trapped under her jacket, brushed the roof of the bigCrown Victoria he'd rented. She prodded at the radio and found a collegestation, staticky and amateurish, and nodded her head along with themash-up mixes and concert bootlegs the DJ was spinning.
Alan watched her in the rearview and felt impossibly old andstrange. She'd been an incredible and attentive lover, using her handsand mouth, her breasts and wings, her whole body to keep him quiveringon the brink of orgasm for what felt like hours, before finally givinghim release, and then had guided him around her body with explicitinstructions and firm hands on his shoulders. When she came, shesqueezed him between her thighs and screamed into his neck, twitchingand shuddering for a long time afterward, holding him tight, murmuringnonsense and hot breath.
In the dark, she'd seemed older. His age, or some indeterminateage. Now, sitting next to him, privately spazzing out to the beat, sheseemed, oh, 12 or so. A little girl. He felt dirty.
"Where are we going?" she said, rolling down the window and shoutingover the wind as they bombed up the Don Valley Parkway. The traffic hadlet up at Sheppard, and now they were making good time, heading for thefaceless surburbs of Richmond Hill and Thornhill, and beyond.
"North," he said. "Past Kapuskasing."
She whistled. "How long a drive is it?"
"Fifteen hours. Twenty, maybe. Depends on the roads -- you can hitcottage traffic or a bad accident and get hung up for hours. There aregood motels between Huntsville and North Bay if we get tired out. Niceneon signs, magic fingers beds. A place I like has 'Swiss Cabins' andmakes a nice rosti for
dinner."
"God, that's a long trip," she said.
"Yeah," he said, wondering if she wanted out. "I can pull off here andgive you cab fare to the subway station if you wanna stay."
"No!" she said quickly. "No. Want to go."
#
She fed him as he drove, slicing cheese and putting it on crackers withbits of olive or pepper or salami. It appeared that she'd packed hisentire fridge in the picnic bags.
After suppertime, she went to work on an apple, and he took a closerlook at the knife she was using. It was a big, black hunting knife, witha compass built into the handle. The blade was black except
Someone Comes to Town, Someone Leaves Town Page 39