Cruel and Unusual (Somewhere In-Between)

by C. E. Wilson

  “Don’t,” I said gruffly.

  She stopped suddenly and turned back. “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t go over there. He’s only going to check you out.” I looked at the floor as I said it, my cheeks reddening.

  “I’m a married woman.”

  “And he’s a married man. That won’t stop him. Don’t go over there today looking like that.”

  Her expression shifted. “Like what?”

  I gave her a weak smile. She really had no idea how well she’d cleaned up. It was almost endearing despite the fact she was probably ten years older than me. “I’m saying you should go back to the boat and wait for Felix. It has to be close to five minutes by now.”

  “Three,” Janet corrected me with a smile in return. She went to the door and opened it slowly. “Felix is already heading back to the boat. He’s not messing around. I should go back.”

  “So go.”

  “Remember,” Janet said, poking her face through the door as she went to close it. Her face was silhouetted in the open crack, and I tried not to think about how adorable she could be without even being aware of it. “Anything suspicious. This spy drone thing is a big deal. Take care.”

  The door closed, and her boots crunched across the snow and slush. I walked to the single window in my shelter and watched as Felix helped her back onto the boat, and I could even see Flynn standing there…looking very Flynnish. I was going to hear an earful about that, but I wouldn’t deal with him then. I had so much on my mind. Spy drone? International intrigue? Possibly receiving a pardon? It was so much to take in. Tired from my ten minutes of social interaction, I went over to my bed and lay on my back, staring at the ceiling.

  A pardon.

  A chance to see Mauve.

  A chance for forgiveness.

  Chapter Four

  “I don’t understand. I just don’t freaking understand,” Flynn huffed. “Why get all dressed up and not want to show it off? I thought women loved it when they were married and other men still found them attractive.”

  “I don’t know,” I grumbled, trying to focus on my work. Flynn had been bitching about the Janet incident for days now. It was getting tiresome. “Maybe she’ll be dressed up next month.”

  “And then what? She comes to spend all her time with you, and I’ll get to hang out with Milo? I’ll say no to that, thank you.”

  “Then I don’t know what to tell you, Flynn.” I lowered my head and scrutinized my work. The past few days had been unseasonably warm—in the midsixties—and I was happy to spend a lot of time outside my shack, enjoying it. Flynn wasn’t making it easy—every time I went outside and set up my chair and sketch pad and charcoal pencils, he came staggering outside. He was always overdressed, and he wanted to talk about what happened with Janet and me.

  “It wasn’t professional,” he continued, “for her to come all this way and—”

  “All this way? Sand Point isn’t that far away.”

  “You know what I mean, Mr. Davenport,” he said stiffly. “It was unseemly. To be alone in a room with another man when she’s already married…”

  “So it would be okay if she was with you?”

  “I’m a gentleman,” Flynn said as though that explained everything. He crossed his arms and started to pace back and forth on the coast, only stopping to smooth some stray hairs on his head or dust something off his jacket.

  “You’re an ass,” I muttered to myself, already sick of him.

  It had been about a week since Janet’s strange confession. I wished Flynn would let the whole thing go, but we had talked more about Janet in the last week than we would normally say in a month. It was obvious Flynn didn’t know anything, or if he did, he wasn’t telling me. There’d been no word on the radio about the new elect coming to see the island or representatives from other countries arriving.

  And there had certainly been no mention of the spy drone Janet spoke of.

  “You never did tell me why she needed to have some alone time with a child like you,” Flynn said.

  When I lifted my head, I noticed he was no longer pacing around but standing right next to the fence between his cage and mine. His sharp blue eyes were locked on mine. I felt trapped when he looked at me like that. Despite everything, Flynn Andersen was charming and clever. He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t. And the man was stubborn to a fault. If he wanted something from me, he’d charm his way into getting it.

  “I asked Felix what was going on, but he certainly didn’t have information to tell me. Did Janet say something?”

  “Of course not,” I muttered, desperate not to look in his eyes for too long. “For the fiftieth time, she only wanted to go over my supplies, and they were trying to make the trip quick. There are other people here, you know. They’re not our personal wardens.”

  Flynn snorted. “Yes. I’m aware of that. I have been here longer than you, Mr. Davenport.”

  I hated when he got so formal with me. I hated my last name—it made me sound like such a prick.

  “I simply find it odd that both Felix and Janet went to see you, and then Janet stayed with you.”

  “And then Felix came to see you,” I said. “One was with me, and the other was with you. I seriously can’t believe you’re still so upset about not seeing Janet wearing some lipstick.”

  “I’m not upset,” he huffed.

  The opposite was true, but I wasn’t about to start a fight with Flynn. What would be the point?

  “I only wanted to see a pretty woman dressed up. There’s nothing else to look at! I can look at all the magazines I want and read all the newspapers I please, but nothing compares to an actual woman. I’d rather see a real woman’s body than imagine some perfect one. It’s not the same.”

  “So what about your wife?”

  “That’s none of your business,” he snapped quickly.

  I guessed he was expecting me to put up a fight and beg to know more, but I merely shrugged and lowered my head. I guessed he was right. It wasn’t my business to ask about his wife. Mauve had made no attempt to contact me while I’d been there, and I was lucky to get a phone call from my mom or dad once a month. They were still upset with me for what I had done. They got even more pissed when they found out I’d tried to escape. Yes, Janet might have spent a few minutes alone with me, but at least Flynn had occasional visitors—lawyers and bankers mainly, but it was something.

  “If you really want to know, I’ll tell you,” Flynn said at last.

  “No, you’re right,” I said. “It’s not my business. I’m sorry.”

  “No, I’d like to tell you. One of us at least should be honest with the other,” Flynn tried again.

  I remained silent.

  Flynn took my silence as an invitation. “She called the other day…she called me.”

  “Oh?”

  His voice softened slightly, piquing my interest. “Yeah…” It wasn’t like Flynn to get all soft, but for some reason when he spoke about his wife, he wasn’t as much of an asshole. “Things are going okay. I mean, she’s cheating on me, but I guess I can’t be shocked about it. I’m not there to take care of her.”

  I glanced up. Cheating on him? She was cheating on him, and he was remaining blasé about it? God. When Mauve even looked at another guy, I was ready to start throwing punches. I pinched the pencil between two fingers, willing myself to calm down. Not everyone was like me. That was why I was there.

  “How do you know she’s cheating?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice calm.

  Flynn shrugged. “She told me. We believe in having honesty in our marriage. We don’t keep secrets. If we make mistakes, we own up to them. It’s what keeps our marriage going. I always know what she’s up to, and she knows what I’m up to. Needless to say, I think it’s obvious that I won’t be cheating on her anytime soon. Not with Janet up your ass all the time.”

  “She’s not up my ass. And for the record, she’s aware that you’re checking her out. She doesn’t like it.”

&n
bsp; “How does she know that?” Flynn asked. “Did you say something to her?”

  “I don’t talk about you with her,” I muttered.

  “Oh? So I guess you have all these little secrets together?”

  “Stop acting like a baby.”

  “Screw you. Tell me.”

  “Leave it alone.”

  “What did she talk to you about?” Flynn asked, raising his voice slightly. “If she told you something, I think I have a right to know.”

  Thunder rumbled overhead, but Flynn remained focused on me. The light-gray clouds were slowly turning into dark ones, but Flynn didn’t seem to care about the possibility of his cashmere black pea coat getting ruined.

  “Tell me,” he said. “Even Felix was jumpy in a way I’ve never seen before. Is there something I need to worry about?”

  “It’s nothing,” I grumbled, closing my notebook after a few drops of rain pattered across the pages, causing the paper to wrinkle. “We should head inside. I’d invite you in, but…” I trailed off for effect, smirking in his direction.

  Flynn didn’t look amused. “Aren’t you hilarious, Mr. Davenport? Is that why Janet spends so much time with you? Because of your humor? I can’t imagine why any woman wouldn’t fall over herself trying to win you over. Tell me again, how did you lose your last girlfriend?” His smile turned wicked, and I realized he was no longer playing around with me.

  “That’s…shut up, Flynn.” I tucked my sketch pad under my arm. “You don’t know—”

  “That’s right, Mr. Davenport. I don’t. Perhaps this is because you won’t talk about it?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Your girlfriend broke up with you. I heard Felix mention it once. And even Milo laughs about it. Why won’t you talk about it? What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “So what’s the big secret? You didn’t listen when she told you no?” Flynn asked.

  The rain was coming down in a light drizzle, but Flynn seemed to be enjoying himself. He knew he had me in a weakened state. And despite how much I didn’t want to talk about it, he knew I wouldn’t back down.

  “I never touched her.”

  “Never?” he asked with a chuckle. “Were you interested in someone else? Another man?”

  “Shut up, Flynn. It wasn’t like that.”

  “So what was it like? Tell me, Mr. Davenport. I’m all ears.”

  “Please…shut up,” I said wearily. “I’m going inside…” I trailed off as something bizarre caught my ears. It was like a bird, but I didn’t know if I would say that if a gun were held to my head. Flynn must have heard it as well because he stopped trying to rile me up, and we both looked toward the sky. “You hear that?” I called over to him as the rain started to pick up. The sky began drowning in sheets of rain.

  “This is ridiculous!” Flynn shouted. “It’s birds—” He stopped when he and I both caught the sound of a piercing cry. “What the hell is that?”

  We both stood there, soaking wet, trying to locate the source of the sound. The rain slowed, and my vision cleared.

  A bird, maybe two—then one of them fell.

  Flynn moved around in his cage, trying to see where it was landing, but he couldn’t because it landed on my side. The bird dove down and hit my roof with a loud crash and rolled down into a cluster of bushes.

  “What the hell was that?” Flynn asked.

  “I…I don’t know,” I said, too nervous to check it out. The rain slowed again. “It could be anything. It’s probably best not to go over there if it’s spooked.”

  “Stop acting like a little bitch and check it out,” Flynn urged.

  “What if—”

  “Go!” he shouted. “I’d check myself if it landed on my side. Don’t puss out because you’re a little bitch.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Then go!”

  I stiffened, confronted with the realization that I was scared. I didn’t even know why, but I was nervous about seeing what might have landed in my yard. It had the wingspan of an eagle, but the body looked small. And that scream—that scream reminded me of when I was growing up and heard baby rabbits crying…I didn’t want to see the source of that sound.

  However, I didn’t want Flynn to think I was a baby either. Squaring my shoulders and clenching my jaw, I approached the side of the shack. What could make a sound like that? A hawk? An eagle? An owl? Didn’t a falling body usually make a thud instead of a crash?

  When I reached the house, I dropped my sketchbook and pencils on the stoop. From the cold sweat building on my hairline, I thought the rain had already started again. Frustrated, I brushed it away and slowly walked past the deck toward the side of the house where the bird must have landed.

  “You see anything?” Flynn shouted over.

  “No! Shut up!” I shouted back, angry because his voice made me jump.

  I turned back and peered around the side of my house, looking for a clue about what had landed in my yard. Feathers? No. My curious eyes danced around the area until finally I realized that whatever had landed wasn’t making a sound. Maybe it was already dead? I reached out and rustled the nearest bush in order to freak out whatever was there and make it try to fly, but nothing moved. I dropped the branch and shifted closer. I narrowed my eyes and finally saw a hint of what had happened. A few of the bush’s branches were cracked.

  Something was there.

  I didn’t want to see a bird. I hated birds, and I certainly didn’t want to see a dead bird. Desperate for it to go away, I reached for a closer set of branches and shook them violently, hoping to spook the thing, but still nothing moved. I tilted my head, relieved that Flynn had fallen silent again. The last thing I needed was his annoying voice telling me to “man up.” Geezus, my dad had said stuff like that all the time—I didn’t need it from Flynn.

  With a slowness that would rival a snail’s, I crept to the spot where the branches were bent. They rustled delicately as I approached, but the bird still hadn’t left. It probably really was dead. That other bird must have run into it, and it landed on the roof…and died.

  What the hell was I supposed to do with a giant dead bird?

  As I was weighing the options, something I had not expected caught my eye—a flash of pink.

  Mixed in with the deep greens and browns of the bush was pink—and not just any pink…the best way to describe it would be to say it reminded me of bubble gum. The blue-and-yellow wrapper…only lasted a minute or two, but it was the best damn minute of your life? That type of pink. Bubble-gum pink—which confused me even more. I didn’t know a lot about nature, but I was pretty sure eagle-sized birds didn’t have bubble-gum-pink feathers.

  Wordlessly, I finally crept close enough to look down and see what kind of bird it was. Then my breath stopped. My heart hiccupped, and my eyes widened, not believing what they were seeing.

  “It’s not possible,” I muttered to myself, kneeling down immediately to get a better look. It wasn’t a bird…it was…hell, I didn’t even know what it was. But it had the shape of a doll. A pink-haired doll. It couldn’t have been much taller than a Barbie, but it had wings. They looked like they were made of steel. The skin was paler than a Barbie’s. I leaned closer and saw her shape…a doll. A flying doll? I looked up. A toy? Who owned it? Had I been in prison for so long that I didn’t even know what was trendy anymore?

  My hand hovered over the tiny figure, and with a frown I realized my hand was trembling. What was I so afraid of? It was a doll. A freaking lifelike doll with wings… it must have been blown here from Sand Point. Maybe I could earn some brownie points if someone lost the thing and I gave it to Janet so it could be returned. As I considered this newfound idea, my hand darted forward again.

  “What the hell is it?” Flynn shouted suddenly, making me jump.

  And I wasn’t the only one. Branches shifted and the doll’s eyes opened, landing on me immediately. I took my hand back, falling on my ass as those bright
electric blues settled on mine. Was there a hint of fear? Worry? Its mouth parted as it tried to gather itself, but its wings were stuck in the branches. When it realized it was stuck, it began to struggle, and its eyes darted back to me. I was still stunned, too shocked to move. Its huge blue eyes widened, and its lips parted again.

  I dove toward it and barely covered its mouth as it let out an ear-piercing scream.

  Chapter Five

  Its lips moved against my hand as it struggled to get free. What the hell kind of doll had I found? If it could struggle, maybe it understood that it was in danger. And if it understood that, maybe there was some way to calm it down.

  “Stop,” I hissed. “Stop struggling. You’re going to get hurt…” I tried to pull it out from the branches, but its one wing was tangled pretty badly. Rolling my eyes, I tried to hold the damn thing steady and prevent it from making that horrible sound as I worked to fix the wing, but it wouldn’t stop moving around. “What the hell,” I grumbled. “Stop…please stop. Turn off…shut down?” I tried, hoping maybe it would react to a voice command.

  It stopped moving, and its eyes came up to mine. I didn’t even know why, but I flushed red when our eyes met. It looked so…it looked so real.

  “Seriously, Davenport,” Flynn shouted, breaking our small connection. “What is it? A bird? A hawk?”

  “I…” I started to shout back and glanced down at the doll, “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know what it is? Are you stupid? Is it alive?”

  Good question. Was it alive? It struggled against my hand again, and I managed to tighten my grip right before its wing sprang free. I felt those cold metal wings trying to flutter, and their beating against my cold hands almost caused me to drop her. It. Whatever it or she was, it was making a scene. I had to get it inside before Flynn saw it. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t want to share my find with anyone. Not yet. Now that I was able to use both hands, I clasped the thing against my chest, trying to hide it, but it was too big. I couldn’t hide it under my hands. Its struggling to get away from me certainly didn’t help.