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Science Page45

An original fanfic by Lyra Sheldon (mailto:stormychica7@hotmail.com)

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    A rogue wind swept over the city. It roved westward over the
skyscrapers and office buildings, swirled around City Hall, and
finally howled all the way to the suburbs. There that wind roved and
swirled and howled right into the heart of a small group of condos
named Tiffany Village. It beat at shutters and rattled doors seeking
to pry and take something for its own. Two plastic bags, one barbeque
cover, and a number of leaves had been appropriated when the wind’s
icy breath reached the home of a girl named Lily Ingrett, whom
everyone called Red for her vivid hair color.

    Red, who was rarely called Lily, was asleep on the couch when a
frigid blast of air set her skin to goose bumps. Eyes bleary and teeth
chattering, she groggily rose and stumbled to the open balcony door.
Slam! Inwardly grumbling she made her way back to the couch - only
tripping on an ataman once - and curled up beneath the throw blankets
once more. She knew that she really should have gone to her bedroom
but she was too tired to care. Red was cozy and that was all that
mattered. She blinked once, then again, then again and didn’t bother
to open her eyes afterward. Pleasantly warm and comfortable, she was
just drifting into sleep when the odd thwunk of something large and
solid hitting the balcony concrete was followed by the sound of a
pained grunt.

    Wide-awake and staring, Red wondered what had just happened.
Rising ever so slowly to her feet she tiptoed over to the balcony’s
glass French doors and pulled back the edge of one curtain. She could
just perceive a shadowy form crouched against the house in the far
corner of the balcony. Pressing the side of her face to the cold glass
and straining her eyes, Red could barely distinguish a human shape
from the shadows. Suddenly insatiably curious, - who or what, how and
why came to mind - the girl put her hand on the French door’s ornate
gilt doorknob and turned it slowly. A slight click sounded and Red
pushed outward softly. The chill night air greeted her as she swung
the door open, waking her fully. She shivered once then took a deep
drought of the night breeze, feeling alive and refreshed. The girl
took another breath then stepped out into the dim moonlight and closed
the door behind her.

    She turned, suddenly looking into the shadowed gaze of whoever was
huddled in the dark corner. Red found herself in fear; the thought
that this person could harm her had crossed her mind for the first
time. Nearly bolting back inside, but then letting her curiosity get
the better of her - she would see who it was and THEN run inside - she
cleared her throat nervously. "Hello..." She croaked. The person only
drew into itself more. Intrigued, Red stepped closer and said, with
more confidence, "Hello." Still no response came. A breeze ruffled her
hair as she waited. "I, I won’t hurt you..." The girl continued
puzzled, "I won’t tell anyone that you’re here either if that’s what
you’re afraid of." She stepped closer cautiously.

    "Don’t!" Red jumped back involuntarily at the stranger’s outburst.
By the voice she guessed that the stranger was a boy her own age,
there was fear in his tone.

    "I’m sorry..." She hastily apologized for whatever wrong she had
committed. Her heart was beating like a jackhammer.

    All was silent for a few minutes. Red stood in indecision, what
could she say? She wanted to see who this person was, wanted to know
why he was here. She could see that she would have to gain his trust.
"I’ll just sit over here and you can stay over there and we’ll talk,
okay?" The boy said nothing and Red chose to take it as an agreement.
"Cold out here huh?"

    After at least a minute the single syllabic answer came, "Yeah."

    ‘Progress,’ Red thought. "So, why are you out in it?"

    "I, er, ran away," the halting reply came.

    "Why?"

    "There was nothing to keep me there. The only things there were
bad. I didn’t look back." The voice sounded cool and resenting. Red
could tell that she had struck upon something.

    "Sounds bad."

    "Yeah."

    Feeling strangely sad and motherly, Red offered, "Is there
anything we could do? I mean, you could stay here for the night at
least, and we could get you help tomorrow. How about it?"

    "I don’t need your help, or anyone else’s. Last time they just
made me go back, and I ain’t doing that," laughing softly he
continued, "I can’t go back now. I can’t go anywhere."

    Red thought a moment, "Then just stay here for the night, you’ll
die of cold outside anyway."

    "I... I... I just can’t"

    "Why not?"

    "I just can’t all right?" The voice was angry now.

    "Okay, okay, I’m sorry I asked." Annoyed, she realized that they
hadn’t even exchanged names. "I don’t suppose you’ll tell me your
name, will you?"

    "For all its worth, I’m Dougal," he replied, "and you?"

    "Lily, but everyone calls me Red."

    "Why?"

    "You can’t tell?"

    "Nah, why?"

    "I know its dark out; you could see if you came closer."

    "I...can’t." The fear was back in his voice.

    "Are you hurt or stuck or something?" Red was becoming less
annoyed and more concerned.

    "Yes...but no, um."

    ‘This is stupid,’ she thought, ‘if he’s hurt he should come
inside.’ Making up her mind, she got to her feet and declared, "Here,
let me give you a hand." So saying, she paced over to him and offered
her arm.

    "Hey, no!"

    Red could see him somewhat in the murky shadows; he had scruffy
sand-colored hair and a tall and slightly gangly build. "You’re
getting up now." She had made up her mind and wouldn’t back down; he
was getting up now. Firmly grabbing his forearm, she heaved him to his
feet. At first he pulled back but then discovered that Red could and
would beat him in a tug-of-war any day.

    "Let go, I ..." He trailed off as he realized that she was staring
at him. He brushed her limp hand of his arm; she let it fall to her
side. Red was still staring. Dougal blushed and mumbled, "It’s not
what you think -"

    "Wings." It was all that Red could say. She stood dumbly, just
staring. It was true, but it couldn’t be, but then it was. The boy,
Dougal, had wings. Feathery, tawny, beautiful wings. She gazed at him
raptly. The moonlight made him shine; shine like - "Are you a angel?"
She hadn’t actually thought about asking; she just did.

    "Not at all."

    "Then why?" Red still could not take her eyes off him. The whole
of it was just so unreal. His jeans and shoes seemed tattered like
second-hand clothes, he didn’t have a shirt - she wondered briefly how
he would have gotten it on over wings anyway - his sandy hair was
tousled; he seemed scruffy. And then there were his eyes; he was
looking down but every once in a while he would glance up and she
could see them. They were filled with fear and wariness. He seemed so
innocent and hurt.

    The silence was thick between them. Unable to take it anymore,
Dougal turned on heel and ran to the railing, making ready to fly.
"Hey!" He paid no heed to the girl. He had almost jumped when in
unfurling his wings he remembered - rather painfully - that the left
one was broken. Dougal gritted his teeth at the fiery burst of pain.
He stood on the balls of his feet, not knowing what to do. If he leapt
he might be able to fly while only breaking his wing further and if -
His thoughts were cut off abruptly as he felt a hand grab his shoulder
and pull him backward roughly.

    "Oomph..." The boy felt the wind knocked out of him and wondered
dazedly at how he had ended up gazing at the stars. Red loomed over
him. ‘Funny,’ he thought, ‘she used to be much smaller.’ She was
saying something, but then his head hurt and he didn’t want to listen.
"Unnnnh," he groaned, he could only breathe out; it felt strange and
terrible. The girl was still saying something and now she was closer,
though she sounded far away. He closed his eyes and all went black.

                        * * * * * * * * * * *

    Red sat in a state of shock. It was three in the morning, there
was a strange boy with wings - yes wings - unconscious on her couch,
and she was the one responsible for it. She could remember with
perfect clarity the events that had taken place, but for the life of
her she couldn’t believe them, and then she would glance over at the
still form on the sofa. Once again she went over what had happened in
her mind. He had looked up at her one more time with those soulful
brown eyes and then he had run the few steps to the balcony’s edge.
She could hear his sneakers pounding the pavement as she cried out,
"Hey!" He hadn’t looked back; only spread his wings. Red remembered
taking a moment to fully comprehend the beauty of the wings then
realizing that he was going to fly away. Without thinking, she had run
up behind him and yanked him back. ‘It shouldn’t have been enough to
topple him like that,’ was all she could think. But the boy had been
on the edge of his feet and totally unprepared. Eyes wide, he had
fallen on his back, wings spread beneath him. The fall had obviously
knocked the wind out of him. "Oh dammit - are you ok?" Red had stepped
to his side then knelt down, careful not to touch his wing. Staring
upward, he had made one strangled groan before closing his eyes and
passing out while Red kneeled beside him frantically. "Hey - oh no -
wake up!" The girl’s cries were in vain.

    She must have knelt there for at least a minute before taking
decisive action. Gritting her teeth and straining her back, - for some
odd reason all she could think of was her uncle Ed saying, "Lift with
you knees, kiddo." - she had put her arms under Dougal’s and after
much trouble in negotiating his wings, her feet, and the French doors,
she had successfully dragged him to the couch. His wings had to hang
off the side but that was fine; at least she had managed to throw a
blanket over him before sitting down at the kitchen table and going
into shock.

    ‘Snap out of it!’ Red knew she had to do something. The boy
couldn’t be there in the morning. Well maybe if she could convince her
dad that he was a friend and he had been kicked out of his house
and...no the wings still had to be explained. Maybe it could be a
Halloween costume...in March? No, no, no! ‘Think, Red, think,’ her
head was starting to hurt, ‘there has got to be something.’ There was
always the truth; Red would have laughed if it had been anyone but her
facing the problem. She could picture it now, "Daddy, this is Dougal.
He has wings, um I found him on the balcony. I really don’t know why I
went outside, I guess that was pretty dumb. Um, he’s on our couch
because he tried to fly away and I knocked him out. Well I didn’t try
to but it just happened and PLEASE don’t ask me why because I really
couldn’t tell you."

    It all seemed like a bad dream. Only she couldn’t wake up. By the
third time Red had pinched her arm she was sure that everything was
real and viciously cursing whoever came up with pinching their self as
a way to determine consciousness or the lack thereof. She didn’t want
to tell her father the truth because it sounded lame and, more
importantly, she knew that that would not be what Dougal would want.
He had been so afraid of anyone seeing him and didn’t want anyone’s
help. Red knew what her dad would do too; he would freak out, attempt
to rationalize the whole situation, and end up calling the "proper"
authorities.

    That was her father’s one sure thing in life, the government. If
anything from a missing homework assignment to a bank robbery came to
his notice the man would ramble on about troublemakers, upstarts, and
that were organized authorities for a reason.

    Once more, the girl racked her brain for solutions. "Mmmmm." She
hummed in frustration; the only thing she could think of was to move
the boy to her room and figure out a way to get him outside in the
morning. The only other option seemed to be to throw him back outside
and hope he would just go away. But Red had been serious when she had
said that he might die of cold outside and the fact that he was still
unconscious because of a stupid move on her part made her feel very
guilty.

    "Here goes nothing," she muttered and made her way over to the
couch. She stifled a groan as, once again, she put her arms under his
and began dragging. It was a long journey down the stairs; Red nearly
dropped the boy twice before she made it to the bottom. The Ingrett’s
condo was a bit strange; the kitchen and living room were upstairs,
two bedrooms and a small den were down. Red was thankful for that at
the moment; she didn’t have to drag Dougal, a very heavy and awkward
load, UP stairs.

    Finally she was carefully opening the door to her room and heaving
a still unconscious winged boy onto the bed. She would take the floor,
it was the least she could do after nearly killing him.

    Fifteen minutes later Dougal was safely tucked in bed and Red was
wide-awake beneath two blankets on the floor. She regretted her burst
of charity; by all means she should have taken the bed and let what’s-
his-face take the cold hard floor. She shivered and pulled the
blankets closer over her head. She also regretted opening the balcony
doors when she had heard a noise that night; it seemed like so long
ago that she had been talking to a figure in the shadows. It couldn’t
have been more than two hours earlier. She growled silently to
herself, ‘ If I had that little voice that tells a person not to do
something stupid then none of this would have happened.’ Everyone else
seemed to have one of those, but not Red. She had always learned
things the hard way. Why?

    Lily Ingrett, whom everyone called Red, pondered and pondered into
the early morning. In fact, she was still pondering as slowly she fell
into sleep.

                       * * * * * * * * * * *

NOTE: Please, please, please tell me what you think. i dont even know
if anyone reads this. feel free to give me ideas and constructive
criticism too!!!