The Revealing

Saturday, September 27, 2014

“Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey.”

I heard the sizzle of the bacon before I smelled it, and when I did smell it, I felt as if I were in heaven. My eyes darted around the room. I was in some kind of living room in a house. The sunlight shined through a giant window. It made the place look homey. The voice was coming from another room. I could see into the kitchen from where I was lying on the couch. A blanket covered my body. I was hot. I wanted to move the blanket, but I was still listless, as I’d just woken up.

The only things I could focus on were the sizzles and pops of the bacon. The smell was drawing me toward the kitchen. I gathered enough energy to remove the blanket and walk three steps toward the wall. I leaned against it for support and then walked into the brightly lit kitchen. I tried for a moment to remember how exactly I had gotten to this place, but I couldn’t remember anything after the elders had begun to drain Peridot and me.

I could see someone standing at the stove. He had blond hair and wore a black shirt with jeans. He turned around to reveal a black apron tied around his waist.

“Boy, do you look like a mess! Do you want some coffee?”

I eyed him suspiciously. I couldn’t help but feel as if I remembered this boy. “Where’s Peridot?”

“Sleeping. She had a lot taken out of her, literally and figuratively. Now, how about that coffee?”

I felt I could trust him. We were in no immediate danger, and it was not as if I could fight anyone like this anyway, so I sat down on a chair at the kitchen table. The chair was wooden and sturdy.

“Tea. I don’t drink coffee.”

He raised his light brown eyebrows. “No coffee? What kind of life are you living, girl?”

“A healthy one.” Even as tired as I was, I still could use my sarcasm.

He turned back to the bacon, removed it from the pan and then set the kettle. “Scrambled or sunny side up?”

I put my head down on the table and looked up at him through my eyelashes. “Scrambled.”

He turned back around and started to stir the eggs. I focused on his back and noticed now that there was something under his shirt—pointed white ends were coming out of the bottom. Whatever it was, it reached to about the midsection of his thigh, and it hadn’t been there before. I stood up slowly, but he noticed the sound of my movement and turned around. We made eye contact. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

I didn’t break eye contact. After a few moments, someone normal would have cracked under the pressure of my gaze, but he stood his ground. “Take off your shirt,” I said.

His eyebrows shot up, and his hazel eyes stared at me in surprise. “Honey, you’re going to have to buy me dinner first.”

His smile was intoxicating, but I stood firm. I rolled my eyes and insisted. He sighed and pulled his shirt over his head. Immediately, I blushed. The little amount of blood I had left in my system filled my face. I was staring at a well-defined tan chest, as if he didn’t wear a shirt often. I guessed that if I were a guy with a body like that, it wouldn’t be hard to show it off.

I lost track of what I was thinking. I just stood there staring, every word escaping my grasp. I was speechless.

“Do you like what you see? Because you seem to be drooling.” He poked my bottom lip with his soft finger.

I blushed even more as I looked at my feet. When I looked up at him again, he was blushing. It was a beautiful kind of blush that a Greek god would have been painted with. His tan skin softened with the shallow pink of the blush. He snapped, “So can I put my shirt back on?”

Without thinking, I said, “Why?”

I almost slapped myself for speaking without thinking. He laughed and began to put his shirt back on. That was when I remembered why I’d made my request. I stopped his arm and spun him around. There on his back, tucked together, were two large white wings. I stepped back while he turned around slowly.

“Why do you have wings?” I asked shakily. “Who are you?”

He grinned at me. “You don’t remember me? Jeez, they must have snatched some of your memories before we got them, and might I say, you did a very good job with some of them. Anyway, I’m going a little off track here. I am the boy from the library. You don’t remember the wings because I was concealing them from you. However, I know I can trust you. I also feel it’s the appropriate time to tell you that I am your opposite. Surprise!”

I was at a loss for thoughts and words. It was the second time that day I was speechless. Damian would never believe this. Then the boy smiled a smile full of experience and charm, and the memories flooded back to me like a tidal wave, nearly knocking me senseless.

“What?” He pulled his shirt back on.

Good. At least now I can focus. “Explain the wings.” I was almost surprised at how easily I said that.

He widened his eyes. “A lot of the specials grow wings.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “That’s not a good enough explanation.”

He rolled his eyes, picked up the pan with my scrambled eggs and poured them onto a plate alongside the bacon. He picked up the steaming cup of tea, grabbed the plate and sat down at the table. I followed and sat across from him. He set the plate of delicious-looking food in front of me.

“I’ll explain everything, but you just eat. You need to recover. Last week really did a number on you.”

My mind hovered on the words last week. I sat down, accepted the fork and scooped some eggs into my mouth. They were the most appetizing eggs I had ever eaten, perhaps because I hadn’t eaten for a while. I looked up at him, and he was staring at me. I felt uncomfortable, so I jumped into the conversation—with a mouthful of bacon, eggs and toast. I said, “A week? I haven’t eaten in a week?”

“Well, you have. You woke up a couple times, and I gave you some baby food, not knowing if you were strong enough to be able to digest anything normal.”

Baby food? “Thank God I don’t remember that. I hate baby food.”

He laughed, and then it was quiet as I chewed. I guess I will be the one to start any conversation here. “Well, I think you have some explaining to do,” I said.

He sighed. “Which part?”

I swallowed a mouthful of eggs. I had been expecting him to know what I meant. “Well, who are the specials?”

“The specials. All of us—you, me, Peri, Shannon.”

“Shannon? My art teacher?”

He nodded.

“She didn’t have any wings,” I said.

He laughed. “The girls don’t get them. Only once in a while if you are caught in a situation where you really need them are they given to you. Even then, they are a lot smaller and less noticeable for the girls. Anyway, they don’t get them until later.”

I raised an eyebrow. I wasn’t comfortable with the fact that I might get wings. “How much later?”

“In your twenties sometime. It’s different for all of us, but the majority of the girls get them in their late twenties—that is, if they even get them.” He smiled. “No one else can see them except for us.”

“When did you get yours?”

He shrugged. “Two years ago.”

My eyes widened. “Can you fly?”

“No, the wings are just there to make me look good. What kind of question is that?”

I ignored his teasing comment. “Does it hurt?”

He took off his shirt and spread out his wings. The span was twice my body height. He was beautiful.

“Not really, but I don’t like pinning them down too often. It feels like when you sit cross-legged for too long—they get cramped, you know. Do you mind?”

Stupid question. I obviously don’t mind. “Does everyone need to be shirtless?”

He laughed. It was deep laughter without shame.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” I said. “It’s a legitimate question.” My energy was returning.

He nodded, wiping a tear from his eye. “Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting that question. No, the girls have special tops, although they are a bit uncomfortable with our wings. Any kind of top is uncomfortable; that is why the guys prefer not to wear one.”

I nodded. I sat there trying to think of a question that didn’t involve wings. The thought of having wings freaked me out. Then something occurred to me. “You never told me your name.”

“Ah, yes, my name. Well, I guess you did learn the magic trick, so you deserve an answer. My name is Toby.”

Toby—nice name. Toby had blond hair and hazel eyes, and he was tall. It seemed he was taller than Damian. However, I couldn’t say for sure, because I hadn’t seen Damian in a while. Toby’s nose was straight. He had one dimple near the left corner of his mouth. It only appeared when he smiled. His was tan, and his lips were thin, but he could pull it off. His overall impression was charming.

I continued the conversation, asking, “How do you know you’re my opposite?”

“It’s a feeling. I knew that the elders were trying something. But I didn’t know who they were. Recently, they have been snatching the bodies of humans. All the specials have been assigned to protect the human species.”

My mind instantly went to one question. I took a sip of my tea, swallowed and said, “Who assigned us, and why didn’t I get the memo?”

Toby shrugged. “Don’t know. Sometimes we hear thoughts that aren’t ours. We think they’re from our home planet. It’s in our genes, I guess. The thoughts always tell us to help people and protect them. Humans are honestly as fragile as leaves, and they have a habit of starting wars and putting themselves in danger.”

Something clicked in my mind. “Are we angels?”

“I guess you can call it that.”

I was speechless once again. Then I said, “Who are the elders?”

He took a sip of his coffee. “Well, they are sort of like us. But they are the originals. Every bunch of years, a group of specials are found—well, we technically find each other. Practically every special joined the elders because of greed and lust for power. But the ones who stayed good are with us. Oh, and a special’s opposite can only be a special. A new special is born when an already living special turns away and falls into greed or dies.”

I didn’t like the idea of the opposites.

He continued. “The elders gave in to their greed for power and status. It killed their goodness and their need to protect and instead replaced that need with a need to destroy. They soon became slaves to their self-indulgence. It was the only way they could survive.”

My mind returned to the wings. “So we are specials?”

“Yes.”

“And the elders were once like us?”

“Yes.”

“If they were like us, does that mean they have wings too?”

“Had.”

“What happened to them?” I put another forkful of eggs into my mouth and stuffed in the last piece of bacon, letting him answer with patience.

“The same thing that happens to anything rotten. They rotted, turned black and fell off. A very slow and painful process, I hear.”

I sat thinking about what he’d just said and what it meant. “If they wanted to, could they get them back?”

“Never. They wouldn’t want them anyway. Each time they gave in to their greed and evil, they lost their good. Most of them don’t even know how to be good; it’s going against their nature. Once they choose the side of selfishness and power, it is like a drug. They can never get enough. They are slowly killing themselves. However, they are victims of their own doing. They are no longer good and can never be good again, and they don’t want to.”

My heart sank a little. “That’s so sad.”

He nodded.

I heard light footsteps and turned my head toward the entrance to the kitchen. Peridot, wearing a onesie and bunny slippers, walked sleepily into the room. She pulled herself onto my lap, hugged me and fell back to sleep. I was glad she was there. However, seeing her reminded me of the caves—of Damian and Carson. Oh, Carson. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I glanced at Toby. “Is he really dead?”

Toby stared at me with pity in his eyes and nodded. I hugged Peridot tighter to myself. Carson was gone, and it was my fault. “Did you kill the elders?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“All of them?”

“Yes.”

I smiled through a tear. “What happens to them when they die?”

“I don’t know.”