Chris sat in the room or his apartment in Orlando. He was going to be moving into a house now with the hiatus and all, so he planned on spending time in it a lot more often than he would have four months ago. Tomorrow Joey and Lance would be coming over to help him move his stuff. JC was in LA writing and partying it up while Justin was touring in Europe. He had some lady friend with him, apparently, which was why he wouldn’t stay on the phone when Chris called to bug.
Chris looked out his window at the darkening sky. The stars were dull compared to the city lights. He’d like having a house. Then he could watch the sky and see the stars and the moon for all they’re worth, which is more to him than people believe. One night, when he was a little boy, Chris saw something small fly across the night sky. From the beat up car window it looked like a bird, but the wings were too big. And really, it wasn’t shaped like a bird at all. He didn’t remember much from that particular night; just that he thought it was the coolest thing. No, what he remembered was a few weeks later when he was lying on the floor of the tattered apartment his mother managed to get them. It wasn’t big, but the lack of furniture made it seem that way.
~*~
Ever since that first night in the car you stayed up as late as your body would let you, trying to see if you could catch a glimpse of that beautiful bird again. Numerous times your mother has woken you and told you not to fall asleep so close to the window. The breeze that sneaks in is bad for neck or you might catch cold. You never listen though. What you’re doing is important after all and you can’t be bothered with petty colds and stiff necks.
Just when you’re on the verge of sleep something flashes in front of you. You jump back, surprised, landing on your back, arms outstretched. The bird comes back right away and you think maybe it saw you, too. Its face is black because of the bright moon shining behind it. You think maybe it’s a girl because of its long hair coming slightly past its--her shoulders. Her hands are cupped around her face as to see inside.
You stare at each other for a few moments, then you decide that she can probably see you pretty well, but you can’t really see her at all, except that her hair is black.
She knocks on the window, and that catches you off guard. She motions for you to come towards her when you don’t move. She does it again and this time she talks. You can see her mouth move and hear the faint reverberation of her voice. She sounds like all the other little girls at your school, her voice light and high pitched.
You move to go to the window when suddenly she dips out of view, her feather wings, which you thought were white but are actually black, flutter behind her. You move even faster to see where she went and just as you get to the window she pops up again.
And you jump back again landing on your back, arms splayed. There’s a large rustling and you turn around quickly. You forgot that you mother was back and you hope to god she hasn’t waken up. The rustling stops and you turn your attention back to the girl in your window.
The one who isn’t there anymore.
~*~
When Chris got to the house Lance and Joey were already snooping around the property. “Hey! What do you guys think you’re doing? This is private property!” Lance and Joey glanced up, shielding their eyes from the bright sun.
“Dude, you picked the best day to move into your new house. Really,” Lance said, fanning himself from the harsh temperature.
“I should call the police on you delinquent fuckers,” Chris said as he got of his SUV, the Uhaul truck trailing behind him. Lance had his forerunner, so Chris eyed Joey’s BMW critically. “And what, my friend, do you plan on Uhauling in that thing.” Chris pointed an accusing finger at the black exterior.
“Absolutely nothing.” The two men were making there way towards Chris. It was then that he noticed the baby on his hip. “I have babysitting duty. Kelly has to go in today.”
“Where’s your mama?” Chris asked, with a raised eyebrow. Lance snickered and tried unsuccessfully to hide it behind his palm.
“Egypt.”
“And your dad?”
“He’s there, too.”
“Uh huh. Well in that case I expect gold from King Tut’s tomb in exchange for your bailing out on me.”
“Sure thing,” Joey saluted with his free hand. Briahna did the same thing, then spit for good measure. When they were close enough she wiggled and reached for Chris who grabbed her out of her daddy’s arms. She laughed and clawed and his wrists as he held her in the air. Lance tickled her sides until she squealed and Chris brought her face to his and peppered her with kisses.
“Here, you can move my car then,” and Chris dug his keys out of his pockets, threw them at Joey’s chest, and hurriedly walked off as if hoarding the little girl before Joey could object.
“I’m impressed,” Lance said as the trio walked towards the front door. Chris reached for the knob, then remembered that it was locked and Joey had his keys.
“Oh yeah? How so?” Lance shrugged.
“Didn’t know you were into contemporary. And there’s a lot of white. I can see that just from looking in the window,” Lance said as he peered through his hands. On Chris’ hip Briahna tried to mimic Lance.
“Ah, but you see, there’s all the time in the world for remodeling.”
“Remodeling that will never get done.”
“Have faith, Lance, have faith.” Someone was creeping up behind him, but by Briahna’s giggling he figured it was Joey, so he took her from his hip and held her to his chest.
“Dude, give me my kid,” Joey said as he reached for her. Through Chris’ chest her laughter could be heard. “Briahna.”
“Help me, daddy!”
“Dude, she’s my daughter and her names is Francesca. I’d appreciate it if you would call her by her name.” Chris poked out his ass when Joey tried to spring for her.
“Whatever,” Joey said as Lance said, “Hardly, she doesn’t look like a Francesca at all.” Chris gave one last thrust backward, clearing enough room to let Briahna down.
“Run Francesca, run! Don’t let the mean man get you!” Joey pinched Chris’ side for good measure, then ran after his little girl. When Joey picked her up he threw her over his shoulder. She squealed all the way to the car, making efforts to get away while Chris reached out for her.
“So, are you gonna let me in so I can see?” Lance said, once Joey’d ushered Briahna into her car seat.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Chris into his pocket for the key that still weren’t there. “Hey Joe--” A sharp, hard pair of keys hit him smack in the middle of his forehead before he could finish his sentence. “I knew I should have called you the police you trespassing fucker!” Chris yelled as Joey started his car and pulled away from curb. “Oh yeah, that’s gonna leave a mark.” He rubbed at the sore to test for cuts.
Chris showed Lance around until the other truck came with his furniture. The house wasn’t big, just enough to be considered luxurious while still a bit humble. He didn’t like flashy things and preferred houses unlike Justin’s who had something shiny and or expensive everywhere you looked. When he asked Justin why he had a big screen TV in his guest room, why he had three guest rooms with their own private bathroom he just shrugged.
After all the heavy furniture was moved in and settled Chris tipped the moving guys and settled into a nice spot on his den floor. The carpet was plush and soft under his fingers. He knew he was going to love it here. Lance turned on a mini fan and held it over Chris for a few seconds before sitting in a chair, propping his feet on the ottoman. They sat in comfortable silence while they cooled off.
“It’s fucking hot outside,” Chris said wiping at his face.
“I told you, you picked the perfect day for moving.” Lance fanned himself, then stopped when it didn’t do any good. “Is this all of your stuff?”
“Most of it. There’s still everything that in the Uhaul I brought, but that’s mostly my clothes and small furniture. We won’t need the big trucks anymore. I planned this all out to take one day.” He turned over on his stomach and inhaled. It had a new smell. He didn’t have it built specifically for him, but the neighborhood is new, most of the houses sitting in between empty plots waiting to be filled. “I’ll probably get what I need out of it tonight and finish the rest later.” At that Lance stood and started pulling Chris to his feet.
“No you won’t. If you don’t move that stuff in now you’ll be living out of there you lazy ass.”
“I beg your pardon. My success in the music industry clearly shows that my ass is not lazy thank you very much.” But he got up anyway, knowing that Lance was right.
They got everything in a few hours after dark and Chris was glad he decided to get an early start. Lance ordered pizza and then started putting things away in the kitchen, mumbling about going grocery shopping. Chris planned on being asleep for the next couple of day so he was pretty Lance was talking about someone else when he said, “We’re gonna have to buy lots of healthy food. Your blood sugar’s been going crazy these last few weeks.”
“I could have sworn my mom lived in Pennsylvania. That’s what it said when her name came up on the caller ID the other day.” Lance hit him on the back of the head with a frying pan, but not hard enough to hurt too badly.
~*~
It’s the night of your tenth birthday. Your mother bought you a cupcake home from the bakery she worked at during the day and you shared with your sisters, which means you really didn’t get any. It’s okay though. If your mother had been able to get a whole cake you would have given most of it away.
It’s become some kind or ritual. You came so close the last time that you never forgave yourself. If you’d have just moved forward the first time she called you then maybe you could have seen her face. You dream about her all the time, though you never see her. Even in light her face is silhouetted by darkness.
You think that maybe, if she came, it would be the best birthday present you could ask for.
While you’re waiting you wonder if maybe she’s gone back to the apartment you lived in then. It’s changed at least six times in the last year and maybe she’s trying to find you just like you’re trying to find her. No, you saw her in the car that one time and that definitely wasn’t something that stayed in one spot. She still found you then.
Two hours later your tired eyes take you to sleep.
~*~
Lance decided that he needed to spend the night.
Or at least that’s what Chris thought when Lance ripped the covers off of him and was still wearing the same blue shirt and jeans from the day before. Lance was a bitch about being clean and wouldn’t dare wear the same clothes two days in a row. Unlike Chris who, out of sheer laziness, would stay in the same boxers and t-shirt for days at a time without showering because really, who cares?
“Lance, why are you still here? You’re wearing out your welcome before I’m fully settled in,” Chris grumbled.
“Come on, man, I gave you until noon. I still have to go home and get changed.”
“You go home. I’ll stay here and lock the door afterwards. So no one cane come in and kill me in my sleep of course. I wouldn’t try to lock you out.”
“You won’t have to worry about that because you’re coming with me,” Lance said as he poked at Chris, making him squirm on the bed. Chris slapped at Lance’s hands, but in his sluggish state he wasn’t quick enough. Finally, Chris heaved a sigh and rose from his bed. He was up later than Lance though, waiting.
“Alright, alright. I’m up, I’m up. You can go away now.” Chris stood and stretched his tired muscles as Lance walked out of the room. He contemplated locking the door and getting back in his bed, but decided it wasn’t worth it. Or it was, but there wasn’t a point. Well…
Chris took his precious time showering and spiking his hair just to annoy Lance and it was two hours later before he was ready to go. When he got downstairs Joey was moving things around; there were still things they had to do, but not much. Lance was sitting in the same chair as yesterday playing with the hand held fan. “It’s about time,” Chris called as he made his way down the stairs. Joey flipped him off as he set down a chair inside the media room. “Later,” he promised with a wink. Joey rolled his eyes.
“You know Chris, I expected this house to be ugly as hell, despite how nice the outside was, but it’s alright.”
“I’m so glad I have your approval. I swear if you didn’t like it I was gonna find another one.” Chris rolled his eyes as he grabbed his keys off the table by the door.
“So,” Lance said as they walked down to Chris’ car, “Everything’s in the house, but it doesn’t look like anything,” he said, referring to the way the furniture was arranged, or not. And there were loads of boxes in his garage with pictures and awards and the such.
“I don’t know what you guy’s problem is, but it takes more than one day to move into a house. Now quit bitching and let’s get some food.” They took the Uhaul back first, then went to tie up some loose ends at Chris’ old apartment, which was mainly looking for things Chris surely left behind. Lance found some CDs and shirt in one of Chris’ closets, but that was it.
After they went grocery shopping Joey ditched them to hang out with some other people he and Kelly knew together. Chris yelled obscenities about real friends, but Joey ignored him. He did help put up the groceries though.
Lance and Chris alternated between lounging around and putting various things away. JC called and Chris took the opportunity to direct Lance, claiming he had a very important phone call and that his old bones needed the break anyway. Lance snorted.
“So how’s the new house?” Chris went out to the back patio and sat down in a lawn chair.
“S’good. Lance is helping put things where they’re supposed to go since you, Justin and Joey, no good nobodies, wouldn’t help.” Chris huffed for good measure. He heard JC shift on the other side of the line.
“I thought Joey was there, too.”
“He claimed he had to babysit yesterday and today he went shopping for food with us and then left again to schmooze with Kelly’s friends.”
“He told me about that. It’s supposed to be good for Kelly’s job reputation or something like that.” Chris snorted.
Out in the garage Lance was going through all of Chris’ photo albums, preening over the awards that, too, hung on the walls of his house. He filtered through the more recent pictures; most of those were of people Chris knew outside of the group. Ever since they decided to call it quits two years ago and really “do their own thing” they gained friends outside of each other. He recognized one face that came up a lot, but couldn’t put a name to it. He decided that he would ask Chris about it later.
The next photo album he looked at was from the year Justin decided he wanted to do another album; decided that N Sync was over because they all pretty much knew it was done right then and there. It was a somber moment because as soon as the words formed at Justin’s lips they all knew what was coming; knew what he was doing meant for the rest of them. Surprisingly enough it wasn’t as heart breaking as any of them thought it would be. Five years apart had dulled it down to some extent and they were all okay with it. Joey had a cooking show; Lance managed his movie and music companies; JC wrote songs and performed occasionally for a small crowd every here and there; Justin was doing the same, except for a bigger crowd, more frequently and with more flash. Chris’ solo CD didn’t do as well as he’d liked, but good enough. He still writes songs and manages other groups with his company. Ron, that was his name, they hang out a lot, too, doing things. Lance idly wondered if anything was going on between them.
Once he got down to the bottom of the box there were mostly pictures that had fallen out of somewhere. He sifted through them, not really paying any attention, when he came to one of a brown skinned girl who didn’t particularly look like she wanted to be photographed. Her hair was black, shaved in the back; cut short and curled on top. Her nose was pierced and she had three earrings in each ear. There was something big and black behind her, but he couldn’t tell exactly what it was.
Lance thought it was that ugly statue Chris has in his living room.
~*~
It would figure that on the night you’re least expecting it the thing you’ve tried to push to the back of your mind would show up once again. This time you’re walking home from work. It was a prized day when you you’re mother actually only had to work one shift so you decided to do odd jobs for Mr. Atkins down the street at the grocery for a little extra cash. The street is dark and almost deserted and most eleven year olds wouldn’t be out alone after dark, but you realized a long time ago that you weren’t like most other kids and try not to think about it so much. You live a sad, miserable life and hate everything about it. You hate your mother sometimes, when you want something and you know you can’t have it; and then you hate yourself for hating her. She works her ass off trying to take care of you and your sisters. But always, in the back of your mind, you wonder why she keeps having children she knows she can’t take care of.
A little ways down the road you see a shadow cross your path, something from above you. You look up into the sky and it’s clear with brightly shining stars; the moon is big and luminous. A few feet ahead of you is the alleyway you and a few friends play in during the day. When you pass it by you look down its dank realm and find the planks of wood from earlier this afternoon still lying there.
You would have continued walking, but a motion catches your eye. You can’t really see down the alleyway, only recognizing the dumpster because you know it’s there. From behind it though, comes a little girl; you can tell that much just by the outline. Her shirt is ratty and you can see that it’s terribly stained and torn. Her jeans look similar, threadbare across both knees and tattered at the ankles. Her hair is tangled, face smudged with dirt and grime. She crosses her arms in front of her as to warm herself. You don’t think twice about walking towards her, already removing you jacket from your body. It doesn’t take you long to notice the wings behind her, wings big and black; that she’s the girl from your apartment window. You wonder if she wore that frown then, too. You let jacket droop to your side, not knowing what to do with it since you’re pretty sure it wasn’t made for people with wings. She doesn’t speak.
“Hey,” you whisper, not sure of what else to say. She looks at you, but her eyes are concealed by the shadows in the alley. “You talk?”
“Why aren’t you running away from me?” she says, her voice too hard for her age; or what you think is her age anyway, and she catches you off guard. You almost take too long to answer.
“Should I be?” you ask. She hesitates for only a second.
“Everybody else has.”
“You seem different.” You say all of a sudden. She doesn’t flinch, but she does back away. “No! Don’t go away.” She continues to shy away for a few seconds, then stops when her wing hits the dumpster. Something swishes behind her. “I mean, since the first time I saw you. You were smiling the first time.” Maybe.
“Yeah well, this isn’t the first time. It’s the third.” Wait. What?
“Third?”
“Yeah.”
“When was the second?” She shifts and doesn’t answer your question. Something behind her switches behind her again and you star at it. She seems to notice you’re staring and calls you on.
“What are you looking at?” she sneers.
“Is that a tail?”
“So what if it is?”
“No, I was just asking.” It’s quiet and you try to step closer to her.
“Where are you going?”
“I. I was just. I don’t know. Can you come into the light so I can see you?”
“No. There’s nothing to see.”
“I’ve been wondering about you for the last few years. I just want to see your face,” you plead.
“There’s nothing to see.”
“Are you cold?”
“You ask a lot of questions.” There’s a hint of a smile in that statement and you can’t help but to return in. “You’re the first person that’s really talked to me you know.” You almost want to ask why anyone would be afraid, but you don’t; figure it’s not such a good idea.
“Can I please come over there? I just have to see your face.” There’s a long silence where she contemplates the answer to your question.
“Okay, but you have to come down here. I don’t want to go out there.” Before she even finishes you’re stepping into the darkness. She doesn’t move when you get too close and you think maybe she trusts you somewhat. Her clothes are just as bad as you thought they were. Her skin is chocolate brown, a strong contrast to yours. Big bright eyes--you can’t see the exact color but you can tell they’re beautiful--and a small nose. Her hair is tangled and disheveled and you’re already going through all you own in your mind, picking out things to give her. She pulls on her shirt as it is slipping down her shoulder.
“I can get you some clothes if you want,” you say in the nicest possible way. You know how much you hate it when your teachers offer you things even though you know you need them. “It gets pretty cold at night. I don’t want you to be cold.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“Doesn’t matter.” That catches her off guard and her eyes shoot up, staring at you confusedly.
“No?”
“No.”
“Okay.” You nod and turn away from her. You think about the excuse to tell your other when you come home. You don’t have a watch, but you’re sure it’s pretty late; later than it should be when you’re walking in the door for the first time that night. Sure enough, she’s standing right there when you open the door. Hell she practically rips your arm off because when she opens it because your hand is still on the knob.
“Christopher Alan Kirkpatrick where the hell have you been for the last hour?!” Sure didn’t seem like that long. “I’ve been worrying my ass off because it never takes you this long to come home.” She goes on, but quietly. Your sisters must be asleep in the bedroom. She makes sure you’re settled in and tells you how much she loves you before going to bed herself. You take a pair of pants and a clean shirt from the closet on the floor. Before you leave you grab some bread from the kitchen counter.
You sneak out of the door easily enough; it’s not like you haven’t done it before. You run down the sidewalk, hoping she didn’t leave. Just as you reach the alley her wings are spread wide as if she’s about to fly away.
“No!” You run down the alley. Her wings close, the strong, cold air pushing against you causing you to sway in the night.
“You took too long.” She holds her shirt close to her body as she settles down once again.
“I know. I’m sorry.” You walk up to her and hand the clothes and catch the bread before it falls to the ground. “I didn’t know if you were hungry or not.”
“No. I don’t eat that often.” She takes the clothes from you, but leaves the bread in your hands. She stares at you for a moment before you decide maybe she wants a little privacy.
“Well, okay. I’ll let you, um, get dressed. Yeah.”
“My name’s Malaika.”
“Chris.” You smile and she returns it, her canines longer than they’re supposed to be.
~*~
Lance lugged the last box through the kitchen into the
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