Several moments go by, at once both fast and slow. Quickly approaching my death. Slowly drawing out my torture. I was about to give up and call the police when I saw a little shadow tottering into the woods.
“Adam!” I called.
“Did you see him?” Elysian asked, flying overhead.
“I think he just went into that woody area. Go around to the other side and see if he comes out. I’ll go in after him.”
Elysian didn’t question me (for once) and flew off. I hurried through the snow and icy patches toward the trees.
I caught sight of my brother’s jacket and exhaled, slowly, abnormally. He’s not too far from me; thankfully, he’s not running anymore. I had almost rejoiced when a sliver of pain leaked out of my marked wrist again.
My feet stopped. My heart raced. Could we be in danger? I looked at the mark on my wrist, peeking out from underneath my hoodie. It’s glowing again.
Oh crap. What if Adam got his soul sucked out? Cheryl would kill me for sure!
That had to be it, too, because I suddenly see him, and he’s just standing there, his gaze transfixed. I inched closer, trying not to make a lot of noise. Maybe I could interfere enough without transforming and still get Adam’s soul back.
I was three thick trees away when I stopped.
Adam wasn’t getting his soul sucked out of him. He was staring at a girl.
A girl, sitting on a blanket on a rock. She had a light jacket on, and her plain, brown hair was pulled back behind a winter headband. Her nose was red, and her eyes were focused on the canvas in front of her.
I could hear Adam whisper. “Pretty,” he murmured. I was surprised; he almost never talked outside of the house. It was for this reason I curiously stood to watch him.
Cheryl believed Adam was autistic. She was thinking of getting him into see a few specialists before, as he was three and he didn’t really seem to communicate well with a lot of people. I didn’t really pay attention, but it was true there were only a few people Adam really warmed up to, and he was usually shy unless he’d known them a long time.
I watched as he leapt out from behind his bush. “Roar!” he called out.
“I heard you coming,” the girl said; I could hear the smile in her voice, even as it was muffled. “Sorry to ruin your surprise.”
Adam walked up closer. “Pretty,” he said, pointing to her.
“I thought you looked familiar,” the girl said. “You're that same little boy wandering around the woods last fall. I found you and took you to Gwen Kessler. What are you doing here?”
What? I remembered that day as though it was yesterday. It was the day I accepted my duty as Wingdinger, although the name hadn’t yet been given to me. I’d lost Adam while I’d been arguing with Gwen and Tim, and then an eela, a shadow demon, had shown up, distracting me. It hadn’t been until later Adam had been found . . . by a girl. Who’d turned him over to Gwen.
A girl who’d looked familiar to me, but I couldn’t place her at the time.
Now I watched as she climbed down from her seat, and knelt at eye level with Adam. He pointed at her, touching her nose lightly. “Angel,” he said.
“You can call me Raiya,” she told him, taking his hand, and I nearly choked.
“Raiya?”
She turned and saw me staring at her. “Oh. It's you. What do you want now?”
“That's my brother.”
Raiya stood up and brushed the snow off her knees, still holding onto Adam's hand. “He's your brother?” she asked. Her eyes widened in what looked like surprise. Or maybe shock. “You’re Cheryl Dinger’s son?”
Huh? That was a bit weird. “How do you know my mother?” I asked.
Raiya immediately bristled. “Who doesn’t know your mother?”
“Hammonton!” Adam called, waving.
“Hey, Adam,” I waved back. “You want to go get something to eat? You must be tired after running away from me and Gwen.”
Adam giggled.
“Mischievous little fellow, are you?” Raiya smiled down at him, who looks up at her with an expression of wonder and reverence. “Well, it was nice meeting you. But time to say good-bye, Adam.”
He let go of her hand quietly, and then stomped over to me, as if it was some kind of chore.
I rolled my eyes on the side. Of course my brother had a crush on the girl who was the biggest pain in my life, I thought bitterly to myself. I cleared my throat. “Thank you.”
“You're welcome,” Raiya replied. She brushed back her bangs and sat back down on her blanket. There was a glint in her dark eyes as she added, “Humdinger.”
I said nothing to that. As I made my way back to the play area with Adam in tow, I tried not to curse at my bad luck (I had to clean myself up around Adam–Cheryl would’ve tanned my hide for teaching Adam any words more offensive than 'butt'.)
“What's wrong?” Elysian asked as he transformed and jumped back into my jacket hood. “Is Adam hurt?”
“No . . . I just . . . We’re fine. Let's not worry right now,” I muttered. I didn’t want to think about Raiya anymore. I didn’t like her. And I really didn’t like the idea of Adam liking her (Was there really any doubt about that?) “Let's get something to eat, Adam. And none of this Russian meat diet junk Cheryl’s been making us eat.”
Cheryl’s latest and greatest inspiration for a diet had been freshly slaughtered organic meat. Her new chef, Helga, was very scary. Like KGB scary. Needless to say I didn’t find it an appealing diet.
“So, where are we going?” Elysian asked, clearly too interested for his presence to seem like a coincidence to me any longer.
“What does it matter to you? You don't need food to survive,” I reminded him.
“I know,” Elysian leered back at me. “However, I do like to occasionally snack on some human treats . . . things like cookies, cakes, those muffin things, and some pudding–”
“You're pathetic,” I cut in. “Come on, we need to go get Gwen. She’ll probably be wondering where we are by now.”
☼8☼
Date Night
Walking into Rachel's Café was like walking into Florida after being trapped in Canada for the winter; it was warm and welcoming to the point of nearly being overwhelmed. It was a perfect day, I thought, for a hot chocolate and a bowl of soup. And maybe a scone. Or a bagel.
It was easy to see why Rachel's was my favorite place to eat. Or my favorite place period.
Adam hurried to a booth near the main counter and tried to sit down (he needed a booster seat) while Elysian sneaked onto his thick sweatshirt. After promising to secure us a table, Gwen hurried after him, determined not to lose him in the small crowd.
I was just about to head over towards them when I noticed a new painting up by the door.
One of the reasons I like Rachel’s Café so much was because of the atmosphere. It was cultured but unique, charming in both demeanor and décor. Her paintings were hung with care and class.
For this new painting, there were birds and other winged creatures in it–including a dragon . . . one that looked a lot like Elysian.
“That's weird,” I muttered to myself. It had the same black wings, and the same long body . . . the face was slightly different, but not to a very high degree. Someone must’ve managed to get a good snapshot of Elysian in these past couple of months, I thought, as a small tingle of dread crept through my body.
“Hey, Hamilton!” Rachel called out, waving.
“Hi Rachel,” I smiled. “Busy day?”
“You'd better believe it.” She hopped around the counter and came over to me. “I must've had close to three hundred people since morning. Let me tell you, there are days that end in 'y' and then there are days that end in 'why!?' and I think this is one of the latter.” She laughed before catching sight of Adam as he made his way back over to me. “Aw, are you babysitting today?” Rachel gushed.
“Er, yeah.” I tried not to grimace. I didn't want to think of it as 'babysitting.’ It sounded really
girly when someone put it that way. “This is my brother, Adam. He's three years old.”
Adam just looked up at Rachel. He didn't say anything.
“He doesn't talk much,” I warned her.
“That's all right,” Rachel brushed the issue aside. “How about I get you some food?”
“Sounds perfect,” I grinned. “I'll have a hot chocolate and the special. What do you have for kids here?”
“I know just what to make him, don't worry. Anything else?” Rachel grinned.
“Some jumbo cookies and a glass of milk,” Elysian spoke up, hidden in the folds of Adam's sweater.
“Huh?” Rachel looked down at Adam in wonder as I clenched my fists, hoping I wasn't going to have to explain why my pet lizard-chameleon was talking.
Rachel blinked. “Well, what do you know? He can talk. He sure has a deep voice for his age though.”
“Uh, yeah,” I laughed, nearly maniacally. “Guess so.”
“I'll be right back with your drinks,” Rachel promised.
When she left, I looked around nonchalantly. Then I grabbed a hold of Elysian, nearly choking him. “You want to give up your cover for food you don't need to survive on?”
“Well, no, but I can smell the cookies from here. They're fresh,” Elysian pouted. “Give me some leeway.”
I stuck Elysian on my back and said, “Don't pull that again. Ever.”
Elysian rolled his eyes and huffed, irritated.
“As if today could get any worse,” I groaned.
“What's wrong?” Rachel asked.
I flinched, unaware Rachel had come back. “Nothing. Hey, Rachel, I forgot to tell you. I’m here with Gwen tonight, so get her whatever she wants and put it on my tab.”
Rachel’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, on a date, are you?”
“Yep,” I grinned proudly as I moved over to the table with Gwen. “Gwen, you remember Rachel, right?”
Gwen smiled up at our pretty hostess. “Yes, I do,” she remarked. “You have the best food here. And the music nights are great, too. I came to the last one.”
Rachel beamed. “Thanks. We’re hoping to get some more of those going this year. It’s a nice change. And the new regulars Hamilton’s brought in for me seem to like it.” She gestured towards the booths, up and down, as many of my friends, followers, and cohorts chattered happily across from each other. Several were even holding conversations over several tables.
I grinned. “Glad to help. Although,” I added, “It’s more Jason’s doing than mine. He raves about this place.”
Gwen’s smile widened. She seemed to like it when I was nicer to other people, even if it was really unnecessary.
Rachel quickly took our orders and then left us alone. Well, alone with Adam. It was more or less being alone.
“So, how’re your classes going?” I asked, trying to jumpstart our conversation.
Gwen shrugged. “I’m really kind of worried about the benchmark for Mrs. Smithe’s class coming up,” she started, and went on to tell me about how she had a new study schedule, and her parents wanted her to do this, and that, and something about college applications, and . . . other stuff.
I was just reassuring myself that it was good to be this comfortable, even if it was a bit boring, and Gwen was so pretty, and I was lucky to be here, when the four-point mark on my wrist began to burn, slowly but surely.
“Hammy?”
“Huh?” I jolted back to Gwen, shifting in my seat to cover up the discomfort of my arm. “Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about the presentations today.”
“In history?”
“Yeah. Some of them were pretty lame.”
“Oh.” Gwen seemed a bit confused. “I thought it was all pretty interesting.”
“Come on, Gwen,” I heckled, “Wingdinger and Starry Knight are not topics for history class, even if it a topic on propaganda and the press making up lies.” The pain tingling up my arm did not enhance this conversation.
“They are part of current events,” Gwen pointed out.
“So what?”
Gwen shrugged. “If you don’t want to talk about it, we can always talk about something else.”
I nodded. “Good.” At that, the twinging tickle in my right arm decreased. Just a bit.
“So. How was your day?” Gwen asked.
“Well, it would’ve been better if the new girl would’ve kept her mouth shut during history,” I started. “I don’t know why some people insist on being a pain in the neck.”
“Whoa, sounds like you've got quite a problem there,” Rachel interrupted as she handed us our drinks.
“Yeah. I wish my teacher would move her, but she won't. I’ve already asked.”
“Hammonton!” Adam gurgled up, as I finally realized he was eating his napkin.
Rachel looked at him, confused. “I thought his voice was–”
“He can do voices sometimes,” I quickly interrupted as I tried to clean out the wet napkin from Adam’s mouth. “Anyway, this girl has just been the icing on the cake of death destiny has decided to serve me.”
“Oh, I see. Nice imagery,” Rachel said with a smile.
“Girl troubles, lad? It must be true love!”
Neither of us had apparently heard Rachel's grandfather come inside. I groaned more loudly this time.
“Who’s that?” Gwen asked, leaning forward in interest.
Grandpa Odd was quite a character; I was pretty sure he was senile, but Rachel and her family couldn't keep him in a nursing home anymore (especially since he was a lot of trouble and frequently ran away from them) or under a nurse's careful watch (he was still normal enough to be ineligible for the mental institution and it was very expensive to pay someone qualified enough to watch him, apparently.)
I snorted at the old man's remark. “He’s Rachel’s crazy grandfather,” I replied, not really trying to be quiet about it as the old man came up to our booth.
Grandpa Odd laughed. “That's good, lad, that's good.” He pulled a chair up to the table and made himself at home, much to my disgust. “Rachel, get me some coffee, would you?”
Rachel looked at me apologetically as she headed off.
Grandpa Odd grinned his old-folks grin at me. “You might think I'm insane, young man, but you are more out of place than I.”
“What?” I asked. What was he talking about? He couldn't possibly know about . . . all that superhero stuff. “What are you talking about?” As if on a cue, my arm once more sparked with pain. Supernatural calling. And it was getting stronger.
Grandpa Odd, fortunately or unfortunately, demanded more of my attention. He had an innate ability to badger me with babble which didn’t make any sense. I always felt like a test I hadn’t prepared for was coming on when he was around.
There was a playful twinkle in the old man's eyes. “Oh, you know what I mean . . . You count it strange, but then, so once did I.”
“No I don't,” I huffed.
Grandpa Odd grew silent. He sat back in his chair and folded his hands together neatly on his lap. “Behavior is what a man does, not what he thinks, feels, or believes,” he said. “Ah . . . Dickinson was always a favorite of mine.”
It was a favorite thing of his to quote books or dead people. “So?”
“Do we love people for who they are, or for what they do?” He leaned forward for further emphasis, his eyes bugging out. “If behavior is what a man does, not what he thinks, feels, or believes, do we love people–”
“Grandpa, don't bother him,” Rachel admonished as she set down a hot mug on the table. “He's had a hard day and he doesn't need you to try to make him feel better.”
Oh thank you, Rachel. Thank you for your wonderful timing!
“I was only asking him a question,” Grandpa Odd huffed as he took his drink. A second later he spewed it out, retching. “I asked for coffee, Rachel, not tea!”
“You know the doctor says–”
“I don't care what the doctor says–”
“You need to
start caring.”
“You need to start listening.”
It was entertaining to watch Rachel’s patience finally break; so entertaining to me, anyway, I didn’t notice Adam had shifted out of his seat until he was halfway across the diner.
I groaned, carelessly pushing my way past Grandpa Odd's chair and carefully excusing myself to Gwen. She just smiled back and nodded, sweet and patient like a saint. Between Grandpa Odd and Adam, I could only hope she wouldn’t be turned off from a second date.
At least this time Adam was inside, I thought. And it did give me an excuse to leave the fight scene (it was starting to get too personal; Rachel was barking about the rubber sheets messing up the laundry, and Grandpa Odd was combating with the rising bills for her upcoming wedding.)
Adam stopped by the door. Good, I mused, I can just pluck him up and–
Raiya walked in.
“You!” I couldn’t stop myself from exclaiming.
What was going on? I wondered. I had another stalker to deal with? Wasn’t Samantha Carter bad enough?
Raiya hung up her jacket calmly. “What?”
“What are you doing here?”
Raiya smirked as she reached down and picked up Adam, who'd been tugging at her stupid Rosemont skirt. “Why do you need to know? I could've just come in here for a cup of tea.”
“I–”
The door creaked open between us. “Hey, Humdinger!”
I looked over to see Jason. “Jase,” I greeted, a little surprised (and maybe even a little disappointed) at the sudden interruption.
Jason looked at Raiya. “Hey, Raiya,” he smiled. “Is your cousin here? I have an application for her.”
Raiya nodded and pointed to where Rachel and Grandpa Odd were still arguing over his dietary requirements.
“Cool, thanks!” Jason said, heading over.
It was a definitely a dumbstruck moment for me. “You're Rachel's cousin?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes.” Raiya frowned. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll see if I can't drop your brother off so I can get started on my homework.” She walked back to the table and put Adam back down in his seat. She casually started chatting with Gwen, who was straining to hear her over Rachel and Grandpa Odd’s argument.