I walked for three more days, until my body knew it was time. I felt my wings responding to the environment around me. My wings, alive again, carried me high above the ground at last, far from the hard earth. Being in the air so often and so freely had given me a new strength, and I found I had endurance I’d never known before. My wings didn’t tire, and I went as far as I could during the day and well into the night; the darkness, like a familiar caress, welcomed me back into its embrace.
As I approached the populated areas and then the Russian cities, I flew only at night. I’d betrayed my people by leaving, but I wouldn’t betray them by being caught. As soon as I reached the first city, I changed back into my fitted black attire. I stuck to the rooftops, to the unpopulated areas, or to those places so riddled with crime and decay that nobody would notice me there. This time, when my food ran out, I went without for as long as I could and then turned to gathering at city dumps and in farmers’ fields. I spent this first part of my return sick, as a result. The adjustment from the natural diet of my family to the one I found necessary was painful and unpleasant. But I marvelled at how much easier the trip was, now that my wings were stronger. I pictured my mother and siblings. Would they have to grieve for me again? Or would they, like me, feel our connection even over the miles between us?
Eventually, I could feel myself nearing my destination. The air was different, and my body knew I would soon be there. I’d thought, at first, that I would go right to Lexi but, somewhere along the way, I realized I needed to make a stop first. Gradually it came into view. The large expanse of empty field and the modest house near the end of the long gravel driveway called to me. Nik’s place. I had to be sure he was still there, that he hadn’t gone after Eric or Lexi. I landed softly in the field and, folding my wings tight against my body, walked up towards the house. If he were there, I didn’t want to give him any warning. I looked out, as I went, at what appeared to be an endless expanse of grass and grain. There were no houses for miles, and his property stretched far enough to render the fences marking its boundaries invisible to me from my vantage point. I pictured tall trees planted along the edges, providing privacy during the day, and, with no close neighbours to light up the sky, darkness concealing me at night. If I had land like this—I didn’t allow myself to finish the thought. Slowing, quietly, I pushed open the door and went inside.
There was a faint smell–of musty, unused furniture perhaps. I cautiously made my way down the hall to Nik’s room. No movement. It seemed he was gone. As I entered his room, I saw immediately that he had indeed left and that his departure was permanent. Skeletal remains were all that was left of Nik on this earth. The window, partially ajar, had let enough of the wildlife in to speed up his decay; any tissue that may have been left to testify to his humanity had long since been carried away. The bones were scattered across the bed and onto the floor. I sat on the bed beside what looked like his thorax. He may have hated me and nearly everything else on this side of the world, but he had truly loved my mother. I lifted it up, mildly surprised by its weight and lack of brittleness, and looked closer. On the underside were four notched markings where the wings would have been. Our wings grew from bone; they were an integral part of our makeup. I gently put it back down on the bed.
Maybe I should have been more conflicted than I was, wondering if I’d done the right thing, leaving the safety and freedom of my home and not honoring his final wishes. But I wasn’t worrying about that at all. Instead, I was trying to decide whether or not I needed to bury him and looking, with curiosity, at the edge of a large manila envelope peeking out from under his pillow. Was it morbid, sitting here beside his bones, reading his mail? Couldn’t be any worse than picking up parts of his skeleton. I pulled the envelope out and turned it over in my hands. It wasn’t mail at all. It was unsealed and unlabelled. It had belonged to Nik.
I opened it and slid out the contents. Several deeds. My name was on all of them. If I could find a way to sell the properties, I could live on the proceeds. Money would never have to be an issue. As I flipped through, I stopped at the one for the farmhouse. A yellow note was paper clipped to the top. Nik’s almost illegible scrawl was unmistakable.
Joshua—If you didn’t make it home, you can stay here if you want. Place is paid for, after all. That was all. No parting insights, last epiphanies, not even a final salutation. But it was a goodbye, nevertheless. What would I do in a place like this? Was it far enough from the neighbouring farms to make any flight feasible? Or was he, by offering me this place, sentencing me to be locked on the land like he’d been?
I buried him then, carving a wooden marker from the frame of the bed. I burnt the rest of the bed; Nik had died in it and I didn’t want it, especially if I were thinking of making this place liveable. And I realized, as I watched the flames devour the soiled bed, that I might be. Whether or not Lexi would have me, I could live here if I needed to. It was far enough from the rest of the world, with a large enough piece of property to allow for privacy and, besides, it reminded me of home—both the home I grew up in and the one I returned to. It reminded me of Goodnight Moon and goodnight kisses, of hugs and games, of working the land with my sister. I imagined Lexi and I years in the future, sitting by the large fireplace, my arm around her shoulders and her small frame tucked in close to mine. Not that we’d need to settle here, but we could. I reminded myself of a truth that Nik had taught me long ago. Wishes are for fools and children. But it didn’t stop me, this time, from wishing.
The fire smouldered outside, and I stood in front of the large, square mirror in the bathroom. Using Nik’s razor, I carefully shaved, slowly seeing the old me returning. As I looked into my own face, smooth and familiar, I felt shame wash over me. “I’m sorry,” I whispered aloud. Before me was the man who had spent his life stealing from people, who had watched suffering and pain and had felt nothing, done nothing. This was the man who consistently left the only people who loved him. And somehow, this same man was planning to go back to Lexi. How could I possibly expect her to want a life with me?
Dragonfly, I heard her voice in my mind, feeling her certainty and faith again. She didn’t care who I’d been. Neither, I realized, did my family. That’s what love did. I thought again of the image of my mother, surrounded in light. The unwavering hope she had. I closed my eyes, shutting out my reflection, focusing only on the faith they’d been showing me. I’m so sorry, I whispered again. A slow warmth washed over me and I exhaled deeply. I opened my eyes and blinked quickly, turning from the mirror. I might look like the man I was, but I wasn’t him anymore.
Chapter 19
I spent the next two nights cleaning. I was pretty sure it was a stalling technique. But I scrubbed the floor, and I washed and dried and pressed the sheets and bedding for the small room Lexi and I had shared that night. I did the dishes and wiped down the walls. As I fell into bed with the sun, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d end up coming back here alone after all. I comforted myself with the fact that even perpetual bachelors could use a clean floor.
When I finally set out towards Lexi, I breathed the sky air deeply. The trip was infinitely nicer than it was in the confines of a car. I could see the landscape change, not just its climate but also the shape and texture of the terrain. It was amazing. The drawback, as always, was finding areas to rest, since the journey, even with my newfound flight speed, took days. I stopped to sleep only when my body refused to give any more, and tall hotel rooftops along the way served my purposes well enough.
It gave me time to think, though. Even if Lexi still wanted me, how could I possibly ask her to leave her family? I’d had to choose. But maybe she didn’t. Not yet, at any rate. I didn’t want Lexi to leave everything for me. I didn’t want to tear her away from her family, without them ever knowing why. And I didn’t want to fly away to some selfish existence. I wanted us both to be happy. I pictured the New York skyline again, in all its brightly lit beauty. I’d used the dark as cover for obscurity and theft. Maybe I co
uld use it for something else. The last time I’d tried to rescue someone, I’d nearly been killed. But that had been on impulse. No planning, no equipment. No training. I’d be prepared next time. Next time. It was insane to even think it. But somehow, it felt right. Teket had trained me as a watchman. Those months, learning how to defend and attack, honing my strength and speed, equipping myself to use my wings in battle, hadn’t been a loss. I’d called myself a villain, but maybe I didn’t need to be one.
As I flew, the remnants of winter remained and the cool weather reminded me, pleasantly, of home in the caves. As I neared her city, I felt my palms begin to sweat. It had been so long. Even if she were still there, it had been over a year since we’d last seen each other. What would I say to her?
I arrived in the city as night was ending and I realized I had no idea what day it was. I reviewed my options. I had very few, and the sky would soon be light. I went to the only place I could think of; I returned to my small, derelict apartment. I’d left the screenless window open, and I entered quickly. Home, for now. As I walked towards the small kitchen area, I looked around; it was dark, as usual, except for a small tea light set up in the middle of the table. It was lit. I froze. My heart thudded in my ears. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Slowly, I stepped backwards.
“You’re here.” Marcus’ gravelled voice broke through my blind fear and I almost laughed in relief as he rose from the couch.
“Marcus!” I wasn’t sure I’d ever been so grateful to see anyone as I was to see him. “I didn’t realize you’d be here!”
“You hadn’t been back for a while, so I didn’t know when to expect you. I’ve been checkin’ our spot still. An’ it was getting’ cold in my old place. I thought—heck, if this place’s good enough for Joshua, it’ll be good enough for me.” He limped towards the table. “Like what I done with the place?”
“It’s great.”
“Want it pretty. It should be presentable when my girl and the kids get back.” A new story. “But if you need me ta clear out, I can be packed in a little minute. You can even keep the candle.”
“No. It’s great Marcus. It’s a great place for you.”
“Well, you’re welcome to stay here with me. Haven’t had a roommate for years. Might be kinda nice.”
“Thanks for the invitation. I might take you up on it.”
“Hope you do.” Marcus opened the cupboard. “Hungry?”
“I am.” I watched curiously as he pulled out a half-loaf of bread and a small jar of strawberry jam. Placing two pieces of bread on the counter in front of him, he spread on the jam with a tarnished but clean butter knife.
“Been working,” he said as he brought the bread over. He placed one piece in front of me and took one for himself, sitting down across from me. He gestured towards a small, plastic bucket and a squeegee propped up against the wall by the door. “Been washin’ windows. People waitin’ at lights always appreciate a clean window.”
“That’s great. Really great.” I meant it.
“Real glad to have some company,” he said, sounding almost warm.
“Me too.”
“So, what’s your next move?” he asked me, his mouth full.
I imagined myself telling him about my trip home, about my family, about my decision. Instead, I asked, “Remember that girl?”
“’Course. The gullible one.”
I smiled at his description and then couldn’t help but be serious again. “I came to see if she’d still have me.”
“Well, that’s great, I guess.” He hesitated. “Do you think she can be trusted?”
“I think so. I’m willing to give it a shot, if she’ll let me.”
“Well, be careful,” he said. He looked like he wanted to say something else but changed his mind.
“Always am.”
After we had finished our meager meal, he rose and put the remaining loaf, with the tightly sealed jam, back into the cupboard.
I watched as he began preparing to work. He added soap to his empty bucket, which he planned to fill in the fountain down the street, and then he grabbed his squeegee. “See you later, Joshua,” he said, as he headed out the door.
“Marcus,” I said, stopping him. “What day is it today?”
He shook his head at me. “You really have been gone a long time.” As he pulled the door shut, he said, “Thursday.”
Thursday. I couldn’t have asked for better timing. It made everything suddenly more real, more urgent. The light, as usual, imprisoned me.
I forced myself to lie down. My body didn’t care that I’d been up for days before this or that I needed to rest before what could be the most disappointing moment of my life. All I could think about was Lexi.
The quiet click of the door woke me, and I saw Marcus setting down the half empty bucket, after ringing out the squeegee. He walked softly to the kitchen table, where he lit the candle, emptied his pockets, and began counting his change. I glanced immediately at the window; it was dark. Sitting, I asked, “What time is it?”
“Anxious to see your lady?”
“Yes.” There was no sense denying it.
“Well, not sure for sure. But the time on the bank sign when I passed it a while back said nine.” Nine. Her folks would be gone. She might be too, but I couldn’t really ask for a more opportune time. “Well, go get your girl,” he said, after the silence began to stretch.
“Okay. How do I look?”
“Stealthy,” he said, eyeing my tight black shirt and fitted jeans. Was he being funny? The corners of his lips turned up into the smallest hint of a smile. Marcus had made a joke. No matter what else happened, that in and of itself was a small miracle. “See you, Joshua.”
“See you, Marcus.” And then, I was up in the air again, allowing my wings finally to take me, as fast as they could, to Lexi’s. The rooftop across from Lexi’s apartment seemed to be waiting for me. I’d spent so much time there, first when I was studying my mark and later when I was watching Lexi.
I set down and peered through the darkness at the living room window. There was no movement, and I felt the quick sting of rejection. What did I expect? I continued to watch until my shoulders ached from being so still.
Finally, a soft light came on in her room. The lamp. She opened the curtains, and I saw her clearly. Bright pink hair, cut into a bob. I suspected her eyes would be a wild color, too, and I wished I could see them from where I stood. She reached out and put her palm against the glass, leaning forward and resting her forehead against it too. She pulled the glass open, and then, looking out for a long moment again, turned away and disappeared into her room. I could picture her sliding into bed, pulling the covers over her body. Without thinking, I rose into the air, allowing myself to be carried over the street far below and to her window. As I got there, I noticed that the curtain was moving very slightly with the breeze. On impulse, I reached out. No screen.
She’d left the window open for me. She’d kept her promise, with a weird, unshakable confidence in my ability not to disappoint. I moved the curtains gently and, as I did, she turned her head and opened her eyes. She looked at me, blinking slowly at first, and then she gasped and sat up straight. She was wearing the blue nightshirt again. I smiled in at her as she shook her head in amazement. “Weren’t you expecting me?” I forced my tone to be light, teasing.
“You’re really not a dream.” Clapping her hands together suddenly, she threw her head back and laughed. “I knew you’d come!” Shoving the covers off her lap, off the bed, she ran to the window. She hugged me frantically through the window and then, impulsively, lifted herself through, thrusting herself out into my arms, trusting me entirely. I surprised myself by being unfazed. She was no burden at all in my arms, and I lifted her easily above her apartment and landed, still holding her, on her rooftop. I set her gently down, and she grabbed hold of both of my hands in hers, looking up intently into my face. “You really came back for me.”
“How could I not? You were right.”
“I usually am,” she said. She slid her arms around my neck. “Are you going to say it, my sweet dragonfly?”
“Say what? That you’re right? I already did.”
“No, the other thing. The reason you came back.”
“Oh, that,” I said. I didn’t even hesitate. “I love you. You’re where I belong.”
She answered me by pressing her lips against mine, part passion and part tenderness. She pulled away slightly, whispering against my mouth, “Me too. To all of it.”
We stood in embrace, looking out into the city before us, my arms wrapped tightly around her body and hers around mine. Finally, she broke the silence. “So, what now?
“What now?” Whatever the future held, we’d face it together. There was no rush. I looked down at the city, the light from below illuminating the dark. “Anything’s possible, Lexi. The sky’s the limit.
Also by Alyssa Thiessen
Dragonfly
Dragonfly Page 14