Landed Wings - By Skylhur Tranqille Page 0,21

hope I can help take some of that pain away.

“So what do you do?”

“I take notes. I go to their laboratories, watch the experiments, make copies of their plans.”

He looks down.

“I even have videotapes of the experiments that had gone

horribly wrong – people, even children who the virus affected in unexpected ways.”

“Mocha.”

He looks at me.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? I chose to do this.”

“Why?”

I sensed that this was the question I should have been asking all along.

“When I was four…when I was four, they took my mother. Even at four, I knew enough to understand that my mom wasn’t going on vacation. They tortured her for hours, in the way your mom did to you. They pulled her feathers, but they also beat her, whipped her, and cut her. But she wouldn’t talk. My mother was the bravest person, man or woman, I ever knew. She faced all that and wouldn’t say a word. She was part of the resistance against them, and somehow, they found out she was a spy. She got burned as a spy. She was left to deal with it, with the knowledge that no help would come. So when she wouldn’t talk, they kidnapped me. At first, they just forced me to watch her be hurt, and she knew I was there. She never made a sound. While I was there, one of the guards, an especially cruel one, bent down and whispered in my ear, Do you know why your mom doesn’t scream? I shook my head no, too scared to answer. The guard seemed to take pleasure in my fear, laughing.

Because one day, she screamed so hard and loud, her throat bled out.

I don’t remember what happened after that, I must have passed out. Soon after I got there, she died. She looked out and said, Mocha, love, and died. She didn’t fall gracefully to the floor, or collapse in an elegant heap, like in books or in movies. No, reality is much worse. I watched an avalanche of blood gush out of her mouth and my mom fall backwards, twitching. The whole time, she didn’t make a sound. Even then, she didn’t make a sound. I didn’t fully understand yet that she was never coming back. They took me away and strapped me to a chair for days. I was bound with steel wire, and was left with no food or water. Can you imagine how that felt? I don’t know how long I was there but I was eventually saved. By the resistance who had left her. Ever since, I have been working for them. Even though they abandoned her, I don’t hold it against them. They tell everyone from the start that if you are captured, you are alone. They only rescued me because it was their fault. Also, I believe even then that they knew I could be useful.”

I can’t speak. His story scared me. We are civilized now. Things like that shouldn’t happen. Maybe people were hurt during the war but not now. Mocha stands up. He turns to show me his back.

“That steel wire…left me marked. But it helps me to

remember.”

He takes his shirt off. I hadn’t noticed his strong arms, or his resilient back. They were as attractive as the rest of him. But what really drew my attention were his wings. They were beautiful, more beautiful then mine. I’d never really seen them up close or in the daylight. They are a frothy creamy gold, toffee, butterscotch, amber, wine, caramel, peanut butter, goldenrod, brown, wheat, impossible to describe. They are all those colors mixed together. He opens his wings to their full length. I can’t help it, I gasp. They are about two feet longer than mine on each side, and the feathers are bigger too. But…Mocha’s wings are marked. Crisscrossing over them are white bands were the sinew and bone can be seen. The wire.

“For years, I didn’t grow feathers in or around that area. Now the only spots that don’t grow feathers are the spots where they were directly on. I don’t show people my wings because it is private to me. Suffering shouldn’t be shared. But if we are going to work together, then you have to see and know. I’m sorry if you find them repulsive.”

He starts to fold them back in. I got up and slowly wrap my arms around him holding him close.

“Where will I go Mocha?”

“With me.”

“Don’t you live with someone?”

“No.”

“Even so, I don’t see how that would work, my