Wings of Boden

by Erik S Lehman

  “I want everyone to hear this. Can you please come up to the house?”

  “Okay, honey.”

  Angie’s eyes were already on us while she moved across the pool floor toward the ladder, pushing her legs through the water. I padded over with a towel, waited for her. She pulled up the ladder, took the towel, went through all the motions of drying off while I asked her, “Can you come up to the house, please? I have something to say to all of you.”

  She didn’t argue, just nodded a look and toweled her hair.

  The flagstone patio surface was cold underfoot, and my skin chilled in the late afternoon air. Over by the multiple-paned french doors of the house, Bub had his face buried in a large potted plant, snuffing at the dirt. The boys were lost in small talk, sitting around a table that held a bowl of chips and glasses of iced tea. Mom stood behind Dad, appearing concerned, her arms folded over her chest while she gazed at me. I stood back, waiting. Angie was kneading a shoulder rub into Jaydenn. Until she leaned over him, reached to the table, grabbed his glass and took a long drink. I waited. The boys were still jabbering. I waited long enough.

  Adding some stern to my voice, “Can you boy’s listen up for a second, please?”

  They caught the tone. Dad dropped his brows at me, waved a flying bug away from his face.

  “I want all of you to know. I don’t want any more sweet innocent Ellie talk. I’m grown now. My name is Elle. Do you hear me?”

  Dad cleared his throat, grumbled, “Okay. Elle. What’s with all the drama?”

  “Dad”—I cast a glare—“I’m not finished, so please save your comments for the closing credits.”

  “Now listen, young lady, don’t—” Dad started to say.

  Mom silenced him with a hip bump and a click of her tongue.

  “My name is, Elle, understand? I’m an adult now, and it’s time you all treat me like one. I may have nightmares. I’ll deal with them. I already had one back by the pool and I’ve come to a decision. I’m not afraid anymore, so I’ve decided I’m going to fight the hunters with you. The little angels need my help. And another thing, just so you know, I, am going to kill, Dakarai.”

  After a beat of silence, the boys couldn’t hold back their snickers, well, except Vyn, he knows better. Mom’s face had gone white, open mouth and wide eyes. Angie had a towel over her shoulders as she stood behind Jaydenn, grinning at me. She lifted her glass for a drink.

  Arms crossed over my chest, I mocked along with them, “Ha, ha, oh sweet little Ellie is having a tantrum. Yeah, well, we’ll see about that. Laugh all you want boys. My name is, Elle. I’m flappin pissed and I’m gonna do something about this.”

  The laughter finally receded.

  Dad scratched his chair back, pushed to his feet, keeping his gaze on me.

  What did I do? He’s going to kill me.

  He ambled around the table to stand before me. From his towering height, he looked down into my eyes. I tried not to blink, to hold my ground … I blinked, swallowed, feathered some hair behind my ear, hung my head and began to cower in the suffocating silence.

  A twitching flinch ran through my wings as his huge hands came up and wrapped around my upper arms. He lifted me up and studied me like a piece of paper. I felt like I was about to pee my bikini. Yeah, I could just see that—my feet dangling above the patio stones while pee ran down my leg. Yeah, that’s real mature, that would help my cause, so I pushed the feeling down. Then felt a nervous tick in my left eye, and my lip started to twitch.

  He finally smiled and pulled me into a rib-crushing hug. When he set me down, my heart started back up, numbness subsided. His sincere green eyes met my gaze as he said in his gruff voice, “I’m proud of you, Elle. I’ve never stood in the way of anything you girls wanted, and I will not start now. I’d be glad to have you on our team. I love you, my angel, and you’re absolutely right, you’re not a little girl anymore.”

  “Phillip! You’re not going to allow this? Phil, I will—” Mom tried to say.

  Dad stopped her with a sideways glance. “You can’t stop it, Celeste. She’ll find a way, even if I said no.” Eyes back on me. “And I’d much rather have her near me.” He gave me a wink. “So I can keep an eye on ‘er.” I grinned at my wonderful dad.

  Mom stormed off in wails of disagreement: “There’s a difference between growing up and getting killed! You’re not taking my Ellie! Do you hear me Phil? You’re not taking my Ellie away from me! I’ll break your arm first!” … Her ranting faded away through house. Cupboard doors slammed in the distant kitchen.

  “She’ll be all right,” Dad said as he made his way around the table and sat. “She just needs some time. That was quite a show you put on there, Elle.” He lifted his glass, took a drink.

  Angie sat on Jaydenn’s lap. She wrapped her arm around his broad shoulder, then gave me a lopsided my-sister-is-crazy smile. Vyn had been silent the entire time. Judging by the look of his grin, he was okay with my decision—or the bikini had him under some sort of trance, I wasn’t sure which.

  After stepping over to Angie, I drifted my hand down the back of her head, palming her damp hair as I said, “Whattaya say, sis. You wanna join me?”

  She snorted a chuckle. Jaydenn pitched me the father of all scowls.

  “Don’t even think about that, Angie,” said Dad. “Your mother would, well, you know. Besides, we need you to help hold the fort down while we’re away.”

  Vyn was still eyeing me so I padded over and sat crossways on his lap, touched my lips to his forehead, then cuddled up into him and enjoyed his arm around me.

  Angie sent a glance my way, then reached out, snatched up Jaydenn’s glass, grinned into it for a second, and tipped it to her lips.

  Dad said, “How would one of you like to make ten diamonds and go pick up what Bub left in the yard over there.”

  “Eew. I’m not doin it,” I said as I wrinkled my nose.

  Vyn offered in his polite way, “I’ll do it.”

  Dad chuckled, grinned at Vyn, gave him a father nod as if he approved. “I was just kiddin’ around. Just relax. Elle seems pretty comfortable there, don’t maker mad at me now.”

  I gave him a teasing glare. “That’s right, don’t make me hurt you.”

  “Here Phil,” said Jaydenn, as he slid the bowl of chips across the table to Dad. “Have some of these chips. With got ‘em from this new place at the mall. They’re pretty tasty.”

  Angie was trying not to laugh, so she took a long drink. I put my hand over my mouth to cover a snicker. Jaydenn sent me a little sideways wink. Vyn held his grin.

  “Don’t mind if I do,” Dad said, then grabbed a handful of chips. Crunch, crunch, crunch.

  We all watched him. When he finally finished crunching, he brushed his hands together, took a drink, set it down and folded his hands on the table, sent a purple-toothed smile around. “Well,” he said, “let’s talk weapons then, shall we?”

  A snorted giggle fell from my mouth. Dad sent me a confused, lavender look. Angie got up and went in the house, laughing all the way.

  “You know,” Dad said to Jay, “I’ll never understand females.”

  Jaydenn grinned. “I hear ya. You got a little stuff on your mouth there.”

  CHAPTER 10

  It had taken us two hours to calm Mom down last evening. She had brooded over my decision for a while, didn’t speak to any of us for over an hour. And while the rest of us sat around the evening living room, Mom had strolled in. With puffy eyes, she’d walked over, snuggled up next to me on the couch and covered my face with kisses.

  Now, though, we sat gazing through the glass of the skybox at a mass of fans in the domed stadium of the hometown Boden StarWings, all energy while they waited for the team to arrive on the field. In the padded row of seats, Mom and Angie were on my right. Vyn sat to my left, entranced by the size of the stadium. He’d never been here, but this was my childhood so it was no shock to me, well, except for one thing:

  The crowd held beings I’d nev
er paid attention to before. What have I gotten myself into? entered my mind while I scanned across the forest of angels, and specks of dark spirits peppered throughout. Drekavacs. I began to talk myself out of my decision, out of fear of numbers, I assumed. Then the ghoulish sound of a hungry vulture swept through my mind … until I stopped it with a headshake and focused out the windows.

  The enemy before me watched the game alongside all the angels, not a care in the world.

  So there I was, in the standard skybox game attire for a female: A sleeveless white cocktail dress with matching pumps, angel-wing earrings dangling under my hair, feather-glossed wings folded to my back. And I wondered how long it would be before I became food for the drekavacs.

  At the sound of male chatter behind me, I looked over my shoulder to see the old team coming through the open skybox door at the far end of the long room. Dad and Jaydenn stood at the island table near the back of the room. Until Dad marched to greet his former teammates as they entered the space in all their mountainous mass, all wearing team-white polo shirts and blue slacks, fabric strained under the pressure.

  Handshakes, patting and punching, before they made their way to the table.

  Dad began handing out glass mugs the size of my head, filled with white-foamed amber beer. With their bear paws grasping the handles, the team lifted and boomed, “StarWings!” then sucked down half their mugs.

  Jaydenn waited for their formalities to end … He hoisted his mug and said, “Cheers, boys,” and poured the beer down his throat while the team followed his lead.

  Of all the feather-brained ideas, what in the name of Source did I get myself into? The question brewed in my mind again. Dakarai’s grinding voice chased it away once more, taunting me, daring me to hunt him down.

  After turning and settling back into my cushioned seat, I crossed my legs, grabbed my glass of iced tea from the cup holder in the armrest, took a drink and set it back.

  “Have some chips, honey,” Mom said as she held a bowl of dried daisy petals before me. I took a handful, popped a few in my mouth, crunched away while gazing through the glass. Was this senseless game ever going to start? Crunch, crunch.

  Vyn, with an arm on the seatback, looked over his shoulder at the team, his eyes wide as if he’d just seen his hero. I didn’t think he liked sports, hmm?

  “Vyn, why don’t you go meet the team?” I said.

  “Huh?” His concentration broke for a second with a glance at me. “Oh. Yeah. I should, shouldn’t I?” He pushed from his chair, looked down at his T-shirt that read StarWings in a blue scripted font, like a loyal fan. A tint of regret filled his cheeks as he dropped a scowl at his chest. Earlier this morning, back at the house, Dad had offered Vyn a team shirt, but when Vyn had tried it on, he realized he needed a couple more Vyns to fill it out, so he’d opted for the T-shirt.

  I motioned for him to lean down … whispered into his ear, “I always hated that dorky shirt, and I knew you’d eventually understand, so I packed a nice white polo shirt for you. It’s in my bag over by the door. Go change if you want to, sweetie.”

  He stood straight, let out a sigh of relief. “What would I do without you?”

  My smile widened.

  “Yeah, okay then, I’ll be right back. Thank you.” And he just stood there, looking at me, looking, looking … I thought he was about to tell me loves me, but then he spun around and crossed the room, snatched up the bag and pushed out the door.

  “Elle,” Dad called, “come over and say hi to the team.”

  Angie gave me a crooked grin filled with the message “better you than me,” and popped a chip in her mouth. I curled my lip at her. After a minute of contemplation, I pushed out of my chair on a sigh, and went over to the boys.

  At the table I stood, so small under the shadows of the mountains. I still remembered them: Tyr Oden, Jari Volundr, Lugus Fedelmid, Bran Conor, Aeron Conall, and another one I didn’t recognize. Dad called them his offensive line, whatever that meant, but I knew they could be offensive. Dad was what they called the quarterback. Jari let out a beer belch, at which I lifted a fermented grin.

  Tyr walked to me and stood tall, maybe seven-five, and thick, unnaturally thick, freakish—same as the rest of the team. I wondered if there was a factory somewhere spitting out monsters such as them. Tyr dropped his gaze on me, held out his paw of a hand and said in a tone that grumbled from the depths, “Well, Ellie, you’ve grown up girl. It’s nice to see you got your mother’s looks.” He reached out his hand and mine disappeared into his. As we shook, it felt as if he was going to rip my arm off. I pictured him standing there in caveman-confusion while he held my detached limb.

  “Careful, Tyr,” Dad said. “She’s not built like your wife.”

  The mountains of muscle let out a tremor of laughter.

  Jari slapped Dad on the back. “Ha, I’ll drink to that.” He lifted his mug and tapped it to Dad’s, a light splash of beer sent to the table, then took a hefty drink. The rest of them followed the evidently great idea.

  They all re-introduced themselves to me, gentle and polite in the presence of a female. Dad lifted a bar rag off the stack he’d prepared for this party, wiped up the spill with a smile.

  While the team noticed me, I stood as straight and strong as I could manage, clenching my jaw and holding what I considered a stern face. A face of a soldier, I hoped, when Dad asked, “You feelin okay, Ellie? You’re turnin a little green there.”

  Not the look I was going for. Wait, I’m not really green am I? After a quick glance at my arm to check my color, I said, “I’m fine”—a careful look at Dad—“I just need a beer?”

  The entire team directed their eyes on Dad, and waited.

  Dad finally grinned, said, “Well, you know where the tap is honey. Help yourself.”

  The team nodded a collective animal grunt of approval. Bran lifted his mug. My gaze went across the room to Mom. She gave me a pinched-face disagreement while I mouthed the words “I’m sorry” to her.

  Then I marched over to the tap and poured myself a mug. Probably didn’t do it right, it was half foam, but, whatever. On my way back, the weight of the mug forced me to use both hands, so I balanced the foam-filled glass with one hand on the bottom.

  Dagda Culhwch, they called him Dag, pushed out a chair for me with his foot. I set my imbalanced mug to the table, climbed up onto the stool—and felt like a third grad-er. My pumps dangled down, beer mug hid half my face while I perused the team.

  Did I ever meet Dag? I couldn’t remember, but picked up pieces of a conversation that seemed to explain that he had moved home to the Netherlands, and had recently returned to Boden with his family. This got me thinking about how awesome it must be to take an ocean trip. Images of the green landscapes of Ireland came to mind, and the great ships slipping through the sea. You’d think angels wouldn’t need stuff like that, but we can only fly for about three hundred miles before needing a rest. And we can’t haul anything bigger than, well, a couple shopping bags for instance. History class had taught me that all our vehicles are replicates of old-world designs, with a few electrical modifications. We had rebuilt the factories to honor the lost. My pink motor scooter, for instance, is a Vespa—that just happens to be the cutest thing in the world—and our family car is a Jeep.

  “So, young lady,” Dag said, pulling my attention back. “The last time I saw you, you weren’t much bigger than that there mug. Whatcha you been up to all these years?”

  “Oh, nothing,” I tried to lower my voice, tucked some hair behind my ear, reached out and slid the mug across the surface of the table to my mouth. I took a sip off the foam edge, and then tried to let out some sort of belch, but it came out more like a bubble-burp. My eyes went to Dag. “School, you know. Same old crap.” I slid a glance to Dad. He gave me a grinning look as if to say, Doin’ good, Elle. Pride began to fill me, because Dad was proud of me, it was in his fatherly green gaze.

  The stadium erupted into cheers and roars outside the windows. Dad sen
t a glance to his left, behind me, and I followed his sight line. Vyn was strolling in, looking much better.

  “Here we go,” Lugus grumbled, drawing my attention back to the table. “Team’s here.” He lifted his mug. “May Source be with the Belt Boars. They’re gonna need all the help they can get.” He emptied some beer down his throat while the others did the same. Then slammed his empty mug to the table with accomplishment, and scrubbed his mouth with the back of his paw. “Should we go watch the massacre?”

  Peeking up from my mug, I sipped from the edge again.

  “Hold on a second, boys,” Dad said, “there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

  Vyn stood behind me, his warm hands on my shoulders. I reached up, placed a hand over his, trying to communicate encouragement.

  Jaydenn smirked, commented, “How ya doin there, Vyn? Nice shirt.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, son,” said Jarl. “I take it you’re with our, Elle? You treat her good, now, and we won’t have to hunt you down and mess up that pretty face.” Jarl pitched eyes to Dad. “You gonna put some muscle on that boy, or what?”

  Why do males always have to be so flappin mean? I’ll never understand.

  “Don’t you boys be pickin’ on Vyn there,” Dad said. “He’s important. Matter of fact, he may be more important than all of us, than everyone in this stadium put together.”

  I beamed a thank-you look to Dad but he didn’t notice.

  “That a fact?” Jarl said. “And how’s that?”

  “I’m glad you asked,” Dad said. “Vyn, looks like we have some explaining to do. Pull up a chair. I’ll grab you a beer.”

  Dad ambled off while Vyn pulled a tall wooden stool from a row against the wall. He slid it up next to mine as I scooted over. When he sat down, I placed a caressing hand on his back, under his wing. My Vyn, I was so happy he was here to take a little weight off me, since I could already feel nasty sweat building under my arms, warmth on my face, dizzy in my head.