Wings of Boden (24 page)

After she drew back, a tiny white bird
fluttered to a branch. A sparrow, no, a canary?

“Oh, Angie, look at that white bird.”

“Wow, that’s pretty, isn’t it?”

Eyes on us, the bird started to whistle a
song. It flittered down and landed on the tip of my bow limb. The
little head flicked back and forth, as it twittered a few musical
notes, and then flew away into the forest.

“What was that about?” Angie wanted to
know.

“I have no idea.” I stared after the bird,
before adding, “C’mon, let’s go.”

Approaching the front lawn on our way back, I
glanced at the ceramic faerie lawn ornaments and said, “Hey, you
ever notice that lawn faerie over there looks just like Faye?”

“What? Oh, really.” She walked over and stood
on the lawn before the faerie. Her hair hung forward as she bent
over, hands on knees, staring at it, tilting her head and studying.
She tucked some hair behind her ear and said, “Wow, you’re right,”
then lifted her head and raised her eyebrows at me. “It looks just
like her.” She dropped to her knees, placed her palms on the
faerie’s ceramic head, and bowed as if in prayer. “Oh wise and
great Faye, please tell me the secret to my wedding cake.”

I snorted a chuckle.

Mom said from the porch, “Girls, what are you
doing out here?”

Angie lifted her gaze.

Mom added, “Why don’t you come in now. Angie,
I baked a cake for you.”

Angie’s eyes widened with surprise. She
looked at the statue of “Faye,” then me.

I grinned and giggled at my sister.

Water splashed from the swooping bath faucet
as I sat on the edge of the porcelain tub, watching the bubbles
gather into clouds. Every muscle in my body pleaded for that water.
Next thing I knew, my clothes were on the floor and I was sinking
into a luxurious, warm and foamy heaven.

After rotating the faucet handles with my
toes to shut the water off, I lowered my wings to rest on the
wing-ramps of the tub, and spread a damp washcloth over my eyes.
The scent of cherry bubble bath pulled a smiling sigh from me.

Ah
, the cherry trees … Immersed in
clouds of foam, I drew in a lungful of sweet scent.

****

“Elle?”

“Hmm,” I hummed in response, eyes still under
the cloth.

“Elle,” Steff’s little voice outside the
bathroom door, “are you in there?”

“Yes, sweetie. I’m in here.” I pulled the
cloth off my face, placed it over my chest.

“Can I come in?”

“Of course you can, come on in.”

The door inched open with Steff peeking
cautious eyes around it. “Are you sure? You’ve been gone for a long
time. I was wondering where you were.”

“Come in and talk to me, sweetie, and close
the door, okay.”

She stepped in, tapped the door shut, walked
and stood before the tub.

“You have pretty wings, Elle, just like
Mommy’s.”

“Well, thank you, Steff.” I reached out,
cleared some hair off her forehead to get a better look at those
little blue gems. “What’s everyone doing down there?”

“Playing some game. They pulled a special
table out and everything, and they have little colored chips
tossing around. I asked if I could play with the chips too, but
Mommy said it’s not for kids. I was getting bored and I wondered
where you were. I hope it’s okay.”

“Don’t be silly. I love talking to you.”

Her face brightened. She looked around. “It
smells nice in here.” A mouse skittered across the floor behind
her, skipping my heart for a moment before Steff turned and said,
“There you are, Tinkle, do you wanna blueberry?” Tinkle put two
little feet on Steff’s foot, looked up at her, twitching its nose
and whiskers. Steff pulled a blueberry out of the baggie she was
holding. She reached down and Tinkle took it from her with two
paws, or feet, or hands? Hmm? Tinkle nibbled the blueberry at
Steff’s feet. Then hovered, clear wings buzzing, and landed on the
edge of the tub. What the—?

“I think Tinkle likes you, Elle.”

I crinkled my nose. “Yeah, that’s what it
looks li—”

“Steffunnie Rhea, are you bothering Elle in
there?” Ginelle said outside the door.

Steff swiveled her head around. “Uh-oh, Mom
said my big name.”

I snickered, called out, “It’s okay, Ginelle,
she’s fine.”

“Are you sure, do you mind if I come in?”

“No, of course not, come on in.”

Ginelle stepped in, clicked the door shut.
She must’ve borrowed Mom’s blue sundress, I noticed, as she padded
bare feet across the tiles, crouched down in front of Steff.
“Steffunnie?”

“She said I could come in, Mommy.”

“It’s really okay, Ginelle. She’s no bother
at all.”

Tinkle flew over, landed on Steff’s
shoulder.

“Oh, Steff,” Ginelle sighed. “You brought
that mouse in here too.”

Steff cut eyes at Ginelle, squished up her
face all serious like. “His name is
Tinkle
, Mommy.”

“Okay, well, you brought
Tinkle
in
here too?” Ginelle turned to me. “What am I supposed to do now,
aren’t those things supposed to be dirty?”

“Are you dirty, Tinkle,” Steff said. “I
know”—she toddled off—“let’s give you a bubble bath in the
sink.”

Ginelle lowered her forehead into her hand,
blew out a sigh. “Oh my.” She lifted her head, eyes on me. “Did you
hear that, she’s giving the mouse a bubble bath?”

A chuckle slipped from my mouth. “Well, you
did say it was dirty.”

“Yeah, I guess I should be more careful what
I say around her.”

“She’s great, Ginelle. She’s absolutely
perfect.”

Ginelle angled a soft look at Steff. “Yeah,
she is, isn’t she?” She took a moment, gave Steff a motherly grin,
and then moved to sit on the edge of the tub by my feet. She
crossed a leg and laced her fingers to hold her dress knee.
“Listen, I talked to Celeste. We think you and Angie should relax
tomorrow. No practice. Spend the day with us before we go back to
town. It might be a while before you have another relaxing day off.
Besides, I wanted to talk to you about something. I heard you like
Dahlia Emil, so I gave her a call. She’s coming to your
birthday.”

Nerves shot up my spine. Stiffening up, I
instinctively adjusted the cloth on my chest.

“Now don’t you be embarrassed about anything,
especially in front of me. You do realize I spend most of my time
in a locker room with a bunch of other cheerleaders, right?”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just— Dahlia’s coming up
here to meet. Me?”

Tinkle floated by covered in bubbles,
distracting me from the overwhelming news.

“Tinkle, get back here,” Steff called
out.”

I couldn’t help but snicker at the flying
bubble with whiskers.

Tinkle floated back to Steff’s shoulder.
“That’s better, now don’t do that again. Mommy said if we swallow
bubbles it will make us sick.”

Ginelle shook her head, sighed … “Anyway,
you’ve been soaking for a while. I bet that water’s getting cold.
We’ll talk tomorrow.” She got to her feet, looked down into my
eyes. “And the subject of your birthday might come up. So you might
want to wear a helmet, or elbow pads or something. You know, in
case you pass out again.”

“Very funny. Has anyone ever told you, you
might be a little bit crazy?”

“All the time.” She flashed a grin. “Okay,
sweetie, we’ll get out of your hair now. If you have time before
you go to bed, I’m sure Steff would like some help tucking her
in.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

Ginelle gathered up Steff, tapped the door
shut behind them.

Steff said out in the hall, “Isn’t Tinkle
pretty, Mommy? Just look how clean he is.”

I giggled, pulled the drain chain with my
toes.

Monday morning, knees down on the dirt and
pine needles with my bow in hand, I spied around the trees and
through the underbrush. The scent of smoke lingered through the
forest near the Crag Mountains. What was I seeing, and what were
they doing? Four dreks sat on large stones around a fire pit,
surrounded by sparse pines and dirt, a sheer-cliff wall as a
backdrop. They seemed to be roasting something on sticks. Almost
like a family?

It was surreal. My skin chilled in the dim
forest under the shade of the cliff. The morning sun lit the tips
of the towered stone mountains thousands of feet above, like
torches in a blue sky. With my eyes and ears on alert, I noticed
something strange; silence. Do the animals and birds avoid the
dreks? All I could hear was, well, me … breathing. I waited for the
familiar call of the red-tailed hawk that I’d become accustomed to
over the years. It never came.

After lifting to a crouch, I spun around on
my bare heals, yes, bare heals, it was quieter and my shoes were at
a makeshift base camp we had set up. More like a spot by a tree
where we had dropped our backpacks, but, whatever. I liked the
sound of base camp, more official or something.

I straightened up and walked along; curling
my toes on the hard dirt to block out the cold and twigs, and
whatever else was trying to cut into the pads of my feet. Yeah,
real bright. Go barefoot in the woods. Idiot … Then memories began
to pull my attention away from the annoyance, and I thought of
yesterday: When Ginelle and her family had left for home, it’d felt
like a kick to the stomach. Little Steff had become part of me. The
family had spent the entire day together, relaxing, talking, and
swimming. I’d even taken Steff for a horseback ride, Steff
wide-eyed and full of questions while we clopped along. I will
never forget that Sunday.

Now, I traipsed along through the wild-grass
meadow on my to the “base camp” tree on the far side. A light,
continuous drone of bug song,
shiik-shiik-shiik
… and pollen
smells filled the air. The ground was softer underfoot, so I could
relax a bit and stroll. The sun, shining through scattered clouds,
felt so good after being in the cool shade of the cliff. Angie and
I both wore jeans and long-sleeved T-shirts that Mom had loaned us.
Mom had said the stretchy shirts are thermal and would keep us
warmer. I was beginning to doubt whether it worked, because I could
feel the air through the thin fabric. Approaching Angie, I was
nearly silent as I watched her dig through her backpack. With plans
to scare her, maybe tug on her long ponytail, I lightened my steps.
It didn’t work. Even as I crept along, she said over her shoulder,
“Don’t try to scare me, sis. I know you’re there.”

Shoot. Anyway. My innocent reply, “I wasn’t
going to.”

“Uh-huh. I need a drink.” Angie pulled out
her Boden’s Brew tea bottle. She twisted the cap open with a
pop
as she rose. “How’d the bare feet thing work out for
ya?” She tipped a drink.

“Well, I found some dreks if that’s what you
mean.”

A light choke as she lowered her bottle.
“You’re lying.”

“Angels do not lie. Angie.”

A few snorted giggles exchanged …

“No, seriously though, there’s a group back
there by the cliff wall. They’re like a family or something. How
can I shoot a family?”

“Really, show me.”

“I will. But I need shoes first.” I dropped
my bow and sat next to the tree, pulled my backpack open and
removed my shoes. “I tried the bare feet thing, never
again”—unlacing and pulling my shoes on—“The sticks were biting
into my feet. I don’t care if it’s quieter.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t want to hurt those
model
feet.”

“Whatever. I knew you’d start that
eventually. I knew I shouldn’t have told you.” My shoes tied, I
pulled out my tea. The cap went
pop
, and I took a long
swallow.

“I’m just kidding. You know that.”

“Uh-huh.” I wiped my mouth, put my tea back
and got to my feet. “I wanna warm up first. It’s flappin cold over
there.” I rubbed my arms. “You might want to put your hair
down.”

She gave me a quizzical look. I thought she
was about to laugh, but instead she crinkled her nose and said,
“Put my hair down, does that help?”

“It helped me. My ears were freezing until I
let my hair down.” Out of the corner of my eye, I caught site of a
twig hanging from my hair, so I picked it out.

“Hmm, okay.” She followed my advice, untying
her hair and putting the elastic thing around her wrist like a
bracelet. Her lustrous fall of brown hair glistened in the sunlight
as she shook it out, running her fingers through it with a grin.
“It feels like it’s warming up already. Like I just stepped onto a
tropical beach. I smell coconuts, do you smell that?”

A smirk. “You’re such a turd. C’mon then,
let’s go.”

As I was walking off with my bow in hand,
Angie said behind me, “Hold on, sis.” She caught up to me. “You got
grass and dirt on that cute butt a yours.” I did a mental eye roll.
She began brushing off my rear as I stood waiting. “All right, all
better. Now, show me those dreks.”

A few minutes later we were approaching the
spot, so I slowed my pace, bent my knees into a walking crouch.
“They’re right up here,” I whispered.

Crouched behind an alder bush, we observed
the dreks.

“I told you,” I said on a half breath.

“That’s so weird. I see what you mean.”

“How can I shoot them? I mean …”

“Well, think of it this way, you see what
they’re eating. What do you suppose that is? A rabbit? Squirrel
maybe? Or, could that be parts of an angel, like Steffunnie for
example.”

Oh, flap, NO!
In one motion I nocked
an arrow pulled back and let it fly. An adult drek disappeared into
a pool of goo before the fire, my arrow skipping off the ground and
hitting the cliff behind them. Without wasting any time, the other
adult was finished off. Angie fumbled with her bow beside me.