Bird Song (42 page)

“And then there were
her
expectations.
 
She expected me to completely stop thinking about you, to pretend that you didn’t exist, but I simply couldn’t do that.
 
I couldn’t ignore the fact that I had hurt you.
 
I couldn’t ignore the fact that you had always been there for me, always been my rock, and I left you to play with a stupid cardboard box, which meant that I disappointed you, too.”

Graham pressed the pause button on the remote control and then threw the remote onto Dad’s recliner with a raspy sigh of disgust.
 
“That sounded stupid—I’m no good at this kind of stuff, Grace.
 
I can’t tell people what I’m feeling or thinking the way that I want to, it never comes out right.
 
That’s why…”

He stopped talking and though I wanted to ask him to continue, he didn’t.
 
He just sat back and stared at the television screen, the movie frozen in time just like our conversation.

As the digital clock on the VCR slowly moved ahead, I sat there and thought about what he had said about failing to live up to the expectations of so many people, myself included.
 
It brought me back to the conversation that Dad and I had had on that first day back to school.
 

He had told me that I expected too much from people, that I had expected too much from Graham and that it was probably a good thing that our friendship had ended.
 
I had left the house that day angry, hurt that he would suggest such a thing, and although Graham and I had worked things out, I still carried a small amount of resentment towards my dad for having said it at all.

Yet now I could see that he was right, and I felt an inordinate amount of guilt for putting Graham through that.
 
Perhaps if I had been the better friend…

“Hey, I’m going to hit the sack.
 
I work the day shift tomorrow and then I’ve got an interview at the sporting good shop next to the Dairy Queen so I need to get some sleep.”

Reluctantly, I stood up and watched as he stretched himself out on the couch, his feet extending way past the arm.
 
I grabbed the blanket that he had thrown onto the recliner and opened it up, carefully placing it on him, making sure to cover his feet.
 
“Goodnight, Graham,” I said to him softly as I climbed the stairs to my room.

“Goodnight, Grace,” he called back just before I reached the landing.

I flipped the light on in my room and shut the door softly.
 
I turned around and let out a softened squeal.
 
Lark was sitting on my bed, her legs folded in front of her, a book in her lap.

“Jeez!
 
Could you at least warn someone that you’re going to be sneaking into their room?” I hissed.
 
I walked over to my dresser and began rummaging for clothes; I needed to take a shower and wash off the wear of the day that was starting to feel like a second skin.

She didn’t even move, didn’t acknowledge that I had said anything at all.
 
I shrugged my shoulders and, after grabbing some underwear and my usual pajamas, I left the room to head to the bathroom, flipping the light off as I did so.

I stayed in the shower until the water ran cold, and I shivered almost violently as I dressed, suddenly angry at myself for not choosing something warmer to sleep in.
 
I wrapped my hair in a thick towel and ran to my room, anticipating the warmth that would soon build beneath my covers with Robert.

“Oh
dangit
,” I said aloud when I entered my room once more and found that Lark hadn’t moved from her spot in the middle of my bed, her eyes still glued to the book.
 
“Are you going to be there all night?”

She finally looked up at me, her face eerily calm.
 
“Robert’s not going to be coming back tonight, remember?”

Oh.

“Oh?
 
Is that all you can say?
 
‘Oh’?”
 
Lark tossed the book aside and stood up, her movements lithe and graceful.
 
“You sent my brother to spy on Erica.
 
You got him to tell you about the others.
 
You got him to tell you about our mother.
 
And all you can say is ‘oh’?”

I started to back up as she approached me.
 
“I didn’t get him to do anything.
 
I didn’t ask him to tell me about any of that, Lark.
 
He did it on his own.”

She laughed, the sound of bells filling my head.
 
The harmonious peal distracted me long enough for her to maneuver herself directly in front of me, blocking out any path of escape.

“You never have to ask him, Grace.
 
He will always tell you everything because you mean more to him than any of us.”
 
She walked away and sighed, her head hanging low.
 
“It’s how it should be when you’re in love.”

“Lark, I-”

She held up her hand, stopping me from continuing.
 
Her body began to float above the bed, leaving behind no impression that she’d even been sitting on it.
 
“I didn’t come here to argue with you about Robert.
 
He’s a big angel; he can deal with his own mistakes.”

Angry, I folded my arms across my chest, tucking my hands away so I could hide the fists they made.
 
“Mistakes?
 
What mistakes?
 
He-”

“He’s spying on a human for another human.
 
He’s told you about a world that your kind isn’t ready for or willing to accept.
 
He’s broken the rules because of you over and over again, Grace, and he’s going to have to face the consequences for it sooner or later.”

The idea that I was going to get Robert into trouble was enough to sober me up and keep me from interrupting her as she slowly drifted back down onto my bed, this time near the foot, and began pulling her legs in front of her, crossing them.
 
“Come, sit.
 
You must be cold by now.”

I nodded and walked briskly to the opposite side of the bed.
 
I climbed beneath the covers, muffling a shocked squeal from their icy smoothness, and settled myself against my pillows.

When I was still, Lark began to speak again.
 
“You know that Graham and Stacy broke up.”

I quickly bobbed my head down once, acknowledging her statement.
 
She smile sadly and spoke, “I’m feeling very torn about it.
 
The rational part of me says that I should be feeling mutual hurt for Stacy because she is my friend.
 
It’s what an angel should do.
 
But there’s a part of me that I don’t understand that is telling me that I should be flying and singing with joy.

“I cannot talk to Stacy about this, obviously, and Robert won’t listen to me speak about Graham at all, so I’m left with asking you why I feel this way.
 
I consider you one of my closest human friends, Grace, and although you are Graham’s best friend and at one point felt the exact same way that I do about him, I know that you are capable of understanding how I feel and can explain to me why it is that I feel this way in the first place.”

I pushed the covers under my chin so that they wouldn’t muffle my voice, and I looked directly into Lark’s eyes as I began to speak.
 
“You care about him a great deal.
 
You care about Graham in a way that makes everything you know about logic and humans seem unimportant and unnecessary, and you like that because you’re like that.
 
You are a walking contradiction—flawed perfection.
 
You’re an angel who cannot see; at least, not in a conventional way, and that makes you different in both of the worlds you live in.

“Your feelings for Graham are the same way.
 
They contradict what you’re used to and you don’t know how to handle it, so you choose instead to fight it, but it’s like a Chinese finger-trap.
 
You keep pulling away from it and it in turn just grows tighter and tighter when all you really need to do to be free is to push towards it.”

Lark sneered at my explanation.
 
“I give you an opportunity to help me and you give me metaphors involving a child’s toy?
 
I know I care about Graham.
 
I care about Stacy, too.
 
I cannot
help
but care about them because it comes with this whole angel thing I’ve got going on here, just in case you’ve failed to notice or anything.”

The mocking tone of her voice felt like needles in my head as her words were repeated in my thoughts.

What I want to know is what can I do to stop this?
 
I want to know how do I stop wanting to be with Graham?
 
You did it.
 
You stopped.
 
Tell me how to do it so that I don’t hurt Stacy.
 
Tell me how to do it so that I can avoid hurting Graham.

My head turned away from Lark and I gazed out of the window.
 
The very same window that Robert used to come into my room that first night, the window that he drifted into that first night I told him I loved him.
 
“I fell in love.”

Lark threw up her hands in annoyance.
 
There’s that love talk again.
 
What is with you humans and your incessant speeches about falling in love.
 
Even Stacy said that she didn’t want to date anymore, that she just wanted to ‘fall in love’ and be ‘blissfully complete’ for the rest of her life.

I watched as a car drove down the street and smiled.
 
“Humans may have long and fancy speeches about love.
 
We might write stories or sing songs about it, watch movies about it and yes, we dream about it.
 
But angels…you physically change because of it.
 
Robert would never have grown his wings if he hadn’t admitted that he loved me.
 
You know this far better than I do, so quit trying to find reasons to hate it and instead find reasons to seek it out.”

Lark glared at me, her pale sage glow growing deeper in hue until it reached a deep emerald.
 
You humans always think you know everything, but history proves that you’re consistently wrong.

I pulled my comforter down to my waist and glared back.
 
“And yet who’s the one coming to a
human
for advice?”

I saw the flicker of anger in her eyes in the same instant I noticed the muscles in her neck clench with frustration.
 
Every instinct in my body told me to try and get as far away from her as possible, but I ignored it.
 
This wasn’t Sam I was facing.
 
This was Lark.
 
Confused and hurt though she may be, she was still my friend and I wasn’t going to run away from her when I was the only person she had to talk to.

I misjudged you again it seems.
 
Just when I think I have your kind figured out, you go and prove me wrong.
 
You, Stacy, and even Graham.

Feeling brave, I finally asked her the question that had been weighing on my mind for the past few days.
 
“Why did you tell Graham to come and help me?”

She looked up and I could see nothing but raw pain in her gilt eyes.
 
He’s your friend.
 
I knew Robert wasn’t able to help you, and I couldn’t lie about why I’d be there.

My chin jutted out as I listened to her half-answer.
 
It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth, either.
 
“You know there’s more, Lark.”

She stubbornly set her feet onto the floor and began to leave.
 
I quickly grabbed her arm and tried to tug her back onto the bed; it was like trying to move a house.

I did it for you.
 
I saw what was in your head.
 
I saw what you were thinking and I knew you needed someone who could support you and help you.
 
I knew you could count on Graham.

Lark pulled her arm out of my hand and faced me.
 
I could see the twinkle of light reflecting in the corner of her eyes as small, crystal tears began to form there.
 
They fell like snow drops onto the floor, first one, then two, and eventually twelve little spots of glistening crystal glittered there.
 
It was the most emotion I had ever seen expressed by her that didn’t involve anger.

“You also did it for yourself.
 
You needed to see what was in his head, needed to see if he’d reject your voice or if he’d welcome it,” I accused.
 
“And when he didn’t reject it like you had hoped, you knew that there was no excuse left to not admit that he’s a good person, a good human-being and that there was nothing wrong with you feeling the way you do.”

She turned away and stared at the blank wall opposite the bedroom window.
 
You know, for a human, you’re a pretty good mind-reader.