Landed Wings

chapter 8: ENEMIES



MOCHA

“I can feel her. She’s coming.”

Ginger smiles.

“Good.”

ASHLYNN

I fly down at two this time, and to another place. My mother wasn’t home when I got back and I never heard her come in. They didn’t activate the alarm so I just walked out – that was a first but then again, the conversation I had with my mother was a first. It is beautiful out this time at night. The air is slightly cool and the clouds hang heavy and fat above me. The sky is colored a dark blue, with a light band of purple acting as a background to the clouds. It turned what could have been a slightly menacing appearance to one that is breathtakingly beautiful. I fly around lightly drifting in and out the currents. It feels good and helps relieve the tension in my back. I fly up through a cloud, condensation making my wings instantly heavy. As before, I feel a tingle on the spot just below my hairline. I am starting to think it is some nervous thing. I don’t even know why I’m here – I don’t even like coming down here. I pause midair to review my last thought. If I don’t like coming down here, then why am I here? I want to go back and think about this more, but some voice in the back of my head tells me it’s okay and to go on. The tingle continues to grow. So despite my feelings, I’m flying down anyway. I don’t want to be too predictable so I’m flying in from a different angle tonight. I want a chance at spotting Mocha before he spots me. I touch down, and this time I fold my wings through the slits in my shirt even though it leaves me more vulnerable. The way the shirts are designed makes it easy to snap my wings out and fly. Even so, I’m not too worried though. I make my way, cautiously, to the place I last saw Mocha …I hope it is the right place anyway. There is a door in this alley, one I hadn’t seen before. It opens, the smell of vomit and ale comes with the light that spills out. I watch Mocha come out, yelling at someone behind him. He laughs and walks forward, closing the door behind him. When he opened the door, he had seemed drunk, but now he looks sharp and alert. I’ve never seen someone act as strangely as he does. I wait for the right moment to make my move. As I stalk forward - he stiffens like he can sense me here. I don’t have any more time to waste. I grab him and jerk him back into the darkness. I pin him to the floor. This takes about five seconds, and he is clearly surprised. I am on top of him with my forearm against this throat so even while he tries to get up he knows I have the upper hand. He may be more than he seems, but I’m not crystal clear myself. I’m ready for him now. He looks up, sees it’s me, lays his head against the pavement and laughs.

“There is more to you than meets the eye Princess.”

There is only one appropriate response here, I hiss.

“Don’t call me that, you know my name. And I can say the same about you Mocha.”

He stops laughing.

“You don’t know what you are doing. How do you know that messing with me won’t cause you more problems than you bargained for?”

“Because you’re full of hot air. Because I do NOT back down, especially not from someone as arrogant and cocky as you.”

He regards me with interest.

“I thought you would’ve given up since the last time I saw you. But you are more persistent than I thought. But before you continue on your suicidal path,” he pauses and flips me over so suddenly I find myself beneath him, “Don’t underestimate your enemies.”

“So are you saying you’re my enemy?”

“No, I’m saying I could be and others certainly are.”

His disdainful look is back. I’m really starting to hate that look.

“And naïve enough to think you don’t have any.”

He rolls off of me and walks away for the second time. But I’m done with having stilted conversations filled with

innuendo and vague information. I jump after him again and grab his arm. In the moonlight, his eyes aren’t light brown anymore – they are a fierce onyx.

“We are going to talk. You are going to answer my questions. I’m done with you walking away from me and not explaining anything.”

He just looks at me, and then looks away. He looks at me again, grabs my arm and pulls me back into the darkness of the alley.

“Fine. Ask away. What do you want to know?”

“Will you answer all the questions I ask?”

“Yes.”

He has a sly look on his face. I’m not sure I trust him or

anything he will say. On second thought, I definitely don’t. I promise that I was going to ask why he had wings. I was going to ask what he was doing down here. I would have asked a million questions beside the one I did, but it was the one that came out of my mouth.

“Why did you kiss me?”

He looks surprised as I felt after that question left my mouth. I mentally smack myself.

“What?”

Well, there is no backing out of it now.

“Why did you kiss me? There were a million other ways you could have covered us, but you chose that one. Why?”

I hadn’t even realized that I had been thinking about that. I guess that somewhere in my mind, my subconscious was. I can see the question makes him uncomfortable. He just looks at me, not saying a word. I don’t really expect him to answer or show a good side. He’ll probably be as rude and mean as he’s been every other time we’ve met. Still, he looks like he is struggling with something – debating what to do. I see a flash of anger, indecision, and a forced look, like he has to swallow something bitter down. He’s obviously come to some kind of conclusion and sighs. Judging from his expression, I’m guessing I’m not going to like what he is going to say.

“Because…you’re beautiful. And fierce. Your wings…they drew me in. I didn’t think…I just did what was natural to me.”

The words didn’t come easily. He sounded like he had a bad taste in his mouth. Even though he is being honest, suddenly I can’t look at his face. Out of all the possible answers to my question, I really hadn’t expected that.

“Don’t hide your face from me. If you have the guts to come here and tackle me in an alley - then have the guts to look at me.”

He put his finger under my chin and lifted my face up until I was looking right into his face. I don’t particularly like him, but I can’t ignore his appeal. And his words about me being beautiful were unexpectedly tender.

“What’s your next question?”

He asks with much less anger than before. The right question will come out of my mouth this time. He removes his hand from my face.

“Why do you have wings? Why do you live down here?”

“I can’t answer that question. I can’t put an innocent, naive, SkyBound in danger.”

I hear his condescending tone loud and clear.

“How can you not like your own people?”

“SkyBound are not my people. They are merely others who have wings like I do. But I do not consider them my people.”

I admit I am startled by his answer – who wouldn’t want to be SkyBound? I’m not cocky or anything – it just seems like an easier life.

“Why not - our people are responsible for all of societies’

advancements and are responsible for the peace we enjoy.”

Oh no! I sound just like my mother! When did that happen?!

“I almost feel sorry for you – you have no idea what your

people are capable of in the name of societies’ advancements and world peace. The atrocities I’ve seen SkyBound commit over the years are enough to make anyone renounce them.”

“What have you seen? Is that why you are down here?”

“You don’t really want to know the answer to that question. If I tell you, describe in detail what your people have done – what changes? Do you go back and live your perfect little life, flying free while guilt keeps you awake at night? Or do you stay with the LandBound and fight for justice. What happens if you find out the very people you’re fighting against are the same ones who provide the perfectly privileged life you lead? In all your years, have you ever thought about the people who make the lives of SkyBound possible? You live a life of unearned privileges for no other reason than you are SkyBound. Have you ever asked yourself why Sky Patrol governs the sky and land? Do you know why you’re not allowed to be here? The truth is you don’t really want to know what I’ve seen…what I know… because deep down, you’re scared you might have to do something about it. Princess, do yourself a favor, keep your questions to yourself and head home before it’s too late. You have to leave. You have to leave and not come back because there are those who would not hesitate to hurt you for what little you know.”

“I don’t know anything!”

“You know the people down here are not the docile, smiling people you thought they were. You know I’m here. You know all LandBound do not accept their second class status. You know that some LandBound are born that way – despite what you’ve been told. That’s enough to make them worry.”

“Who is "them"?”

“I can’t answer that.”

I feel like flapping my wings in frustration.

“If we can’t talk here, come with me. Up to the sky. So that we can talk freely.”

He flashes me an angry, ironic smile.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I can’t tell you that either.”

“So that’s it? You walk away and I’m supposed to sit on the knowledge that my people were responsible for horrible things but you won’t tell me what those things are? And that I can’t do anything?”

“Yes. And not were responsible. Are, they still are.”

As he’s talking, I can see the emotional struggle on his face.

“Mocha…”

He traces my cheek with his finger and I can’t help but

wonder what he wants.

“Goodbye Princess.”

He walks away and this time I don’t try stop him. Although he is saying goodbye, I don’t believe it’ll be the last time I see him. How can it be?

MOCHA

“Ginger?”

“Mocha.”

“Mission Accomplished.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I got a good read on her thoughts.”

“Good. We’re on the right track.”

“I’m not really comfortable with this Ginger.”

Her voice gets hard.

“Do you remember your mother Mocha? Do you remember that? Because I do. Did you know that they took a video? That I had to watch it? Remember her, Mocha, when you start feeling uncomfortable with this.”

I am silent. There is a mixture of fury and sadness for a mother I couldn’t remember and would never have.

“Do you trust me Mocha?” Ginger asks softly.

“Always.”

“Then just do it.”

She hangs up. I don’t have to send any more thoughts to Ash. Her own mind will do the work for me now. I’ve planted the thoughts deep enough. I know what will happen. I’ve done it before. Something will tell her to come. First, she will question it, then rationalize it, and before she knows it, she will be right back here, looking for me. I turn and walk down the alley towards home. I’m disgusted with myself, but the picture in my mind of my mother dying, with blood spilling out of her mouth, squashes any misgivings. Ginger doesn’t know it but I watched the video too.