Landed Wings - By Skylhur Tranqille Page 0,22
teachers, my friends, everyone will know I’m gone. Sky Patrol will start looking for me.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. Your mother will take care of that. I told her I would eradicate the problem and she agreed to spread a story about your leaving home with a boy you met – to another town in SkyBound. She’s going to tell them she’s not happy of course but eventually, everyone has to find a mate.”
“Oh.”
“Don’t let it hurt you, Ash.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“Do you want to leave?”
“Yes.”
“Ok.”
He understands me perfectly. It’s strange. I only known him a short time and he understands me better than people I’ve know my whole life.
“What will we do?”
“Live.”
“How?”
“Let’s find out.”
So we leave the little land park and walk to Mocha’s home. It doesn’t take long to get to his home from the park, even though we have to walk there. I would rather fly, but of course I can’t. All this walking makes me tired but before I have to ask about where I’m going to sleep, I see a second bed had already been put out, sheets and blankets perfect. As if he knew I’d one day be sleeping here.
“How did you know?”
“Know what?”
I notice that lots of my favorite books and CD’s are on the shelves. How does he know so much about me? It’s like he’s in my head.
“That I would be coming here.”
He hesitates looking at me for a second before he answers.
“I had a feeling.”
I turn away from him because I can feel myself getting
uneasy.
“You’re safe here, Ash. Trust me, I won’t let anything
happen to you.”
Some tiny part of me doesn’t trust him like the rest of me does. If what Mocha says is true, then I’m in danger if I go back to SkyBound. But how do I know that this is right just because it feels right? Where did that voice I heard when I flew down here, come from? I thought about the tiny voice I had heard, right before he came, a tiny voice that seemed to whisper She’s here…
Chapter 12: REMEMBER
MOCHA
I feel like washing the sweetness I just had to spew from my mouth. I can’t sleep. Ash is different than I thought she’d be - I’m not immune to her. Tonight, my mother also creeps into my thoughts, unwanted yet unwilling to leave…
Mocha’s mother runs towards him in the park, joy highlighting her face. Before Mocha knew better, he thought his mommy was an angel, an angel with a soft-hard voice, and angel who sometimes threw things at their walls, who sometimes screamed in frustration, who sometimes cried quietly in her room, but Mocha could still hear. Yet, his mommy-angel always was nice to him, she never got mad, she blew on his stomach to make him laugh, gave him ice cream when he was ill, and always whispered that it was their little secret. Even at three, Mocha knows there is no one else to keep the secret from. Mocha never knew about Daddies, never knew you were supposed to have one. His mommy never mentioned one. And even if he had known, he loved his mommy so much he wouldn’t think there’d be any left over to share with a Daddy. Mocha is very smart for his age. Very very smart his mommy said. That’s why he had to stay inside all the time, his mommy said. Because if he didn’t, the people outside would come to steal his smartness. And they would take him away from mommy. Well, this scared him so much, he never even thought about going outside. But he did look. He looked all the time. Outside was dusty and brown and young Mocha decided he liked Inside better anyway. But one day, mommy didn’t come back from Outside. Mocha put himself to bed. He brushed his teeth, his little feet stepping up the ladder mommy had brought him. He used the same ladder to take the sweetbread down from the top of the cabinet. Mommy had caught him one time, and Mocha stood very still, thinking maybe she might not see him. Mommy saw him, but she said “Mocha, I don’t know where you are Mocha, but I’m turning a blind eye.” Mocha didn’t know what that meant. He just knew that he still got the sweetbread and didn’t get in trouble. He never got in trouble. Little Mocha put the sweetbread into the toaster with pudgy little hands and sat on the counter. When