Triune Page 12

  “Wow, it’s later than I thought,” said Barrett, glancing at his phone, then showed them the time – just after eleven. He ordered a grilled cheese, Brian got his favorite again, waffles, and Mike went with a BLAT: Bacon, lettuce, avocado and tomato. They chatted quietly for a little while, talking about a bit of everything. The subject that kept popping up the most was the windows, however, and they were still clustered around Barrett’s phone when the food arrived, each man scooting back to his proper place around the table and settling in to eat.

  “What the...”

  They looked at Barrett, who was staring at his plate. He blinked a few times, then looked back at them, one eyebrow up, with a mixture of amusement and disturbance. Then he held up his sandwich. Cooked into one side, much like the figure of the Virgin Mary that had made her appearance on other grilled cheese sandwiches, was the vague image of Barrett Mason. And not just his face, but wearing a three-piece suit, and with wings. They gazed at it for a moment, then snorted and laughed.

  “That is too cool,” said Brian. All Mike could do was snicker and shake his head.

  “I guess it’s no weirder than seeing yourself in a stained glass window,” muttered Barrett, trying to decide whether to eat it or frame it. He shrugged and took a big bite, washing it down with some lemonade. “Good sandwich, anyway. What do they use on these, cheese bread?”

  Brian jumped a little as his brother bit his own grilled cheese head off, but then recovered. “Uh, yeah, actually. They get it from some bakery in San Francisco.” He turned to his waffles, dousing them liberally in boysenberry syrup. Mike was quietly eating, thoroughly enjoying the first BLAT he’d had in about five years. Something nagged at him, though.

  “Brian, how long have you been vegetarian?” he asked, looking at his sandwich.

  “About seven years. Something like that. Why?”

  Mike shrugged. “Just curious.” They ate quietly, sharing food here and there so that they all could taste a bit of what the others had. Just like when they were kids. Finally they’d eaten their fill, the check arrived and was paid, and a generous tip left. Together they stepped out of the restaurant and into the warm midday sunlight, walking back to the studio as they discussed the windows.

  As they approached, Mike was on the lookout for more candles or anyone hanging around the alleyway, and was relieved to see neither. Barrett retrieved his jacket and tie, and Brian locked the door. They looked at each other, pausing.

  “Alley?” suggested Mike, and they nodded, following. Brian giggled, feeling a bit like Clark Kent about to step into a phone booth. Barrett, smirked a little at him, brought out his wings, cleared his throat, and focused on finding whatever that “nobody can see me” feeling was inside him. The others shivered and brought their wings out as well.

  “Hey,” said Mike, “I think you’re doing it.”

  Barrett looked at him, then at himself, putting out the arm not holding his jacket. He did seem slightly less solid than usual, but otherwise looked normal. Brian nodded.

  “You feel different. You look mostly the same, but somehow I know you’re doing it, even when I’m not looking at you.” He pulled himself into that state with his brother, then looked between them.

  Mike nodded in agreement, then joined them, the three now invisible to anyone passing by. They looked at each other with an almost conspiratorial look, then took off, one by one. Brian was first up, then Barrett, then Mike, habitually “covering their six” since it was broad daylight, half forgetting that nobody could see them, and that he wasn’t in the Middle East any more. This also gave him the advantage of being able to watch his brothers fly in the sun for the first time.

  He could see them at night okay, and he could feel them, he was realizing more and more, but to see them in front of him like that sent a chill of awe to his very core. First he studied Barrett’s feathers, a indescribable pearlescent warm gray, like that of a great ethereal dove captured by an old master painter, but even that kind of idealized perfection could not touch what he was seeing. Then he drew closer to Brian. The pure whiteness was almost blinding in the sun, the subtle rainbow of a slight iridescent sheen glistening off each flawless feather as they moved. He watched them both then, mesmerized, and glided a little higher himself so that he could see them from above. But they both came up level with him, and it was then that he realized they’d been watching him, too.

  He smiled at them, a little soft, shy smile. He couldn’t see what his own looked like, since they were behind him, and he hoped they were even close to being as beautiful as theirs. Barrett slid over next to him and nodded.

  “Like a raven. Glossy black, turning gray at the base a little... iridescent, with blues and... purples... n...” Barrett’s soft voice trailed off a bit as he became lost in his own thoughts. His gaze wandered back to his brother’s wings, a hand running down along the lead edge. Mike’s wing spread in response as his older brother slowly drifted away, his hand sliding down the front primary feather to its end. Their eyes met, Barrett’s shining with emotion, and Mike wondered how he had known what he was thinking, why Barrett had moved over just then to murmur in his ear exactly what he wanted to know. He wondered, but didn’t question it further, because he realized that he could feel the answer, just as Barrett had felt what he was thinking. They looked into each others’ eyes for a few more moments, an understanding and realization forming between them, then as one they turned and started to focus on their flying again.

  They were riding the thermals over the Central Valley, a patchwork of farms that ran for hundreds of miles, dotted with cities, the twin highways of 99 and 5 running the length, north to south. They found themselves following the highways, almost like following a map, since the roads went where they wanted for the most part, and took them there in a straight line. They could take shortcuts, of course, but as long as they were within sight of the familiar freeway system, they couldn’t get lost.

  Soon they were over the confusing maze of San Jose, but Barrett knew the way. The only thing that threw him off was trying to find his condo from the new angle. After only a couple of missed tries, he said “Ah!” and led them to the right building, landing carefully behind it out of sight. They put their wings away and became visible again, casually strolling out around the corner, going in the front door as if everything were perfectly ordinary.

  Brian was struck by how empty the place was and opened his mouth to comment on it, but stopped himself. Mike chuckled softly – the look was a lot like his Sacramento apartment that Barrett had rented for him.

  “Excuse me a minute,” Barrett said, then ducked into the overly large master bedroom to change and shower. The other bedroom was completely empty except for a few furnishings that hadn’t found a home yet, and a couple of boxes of papers. Mike helped himself to some tea in the kitchen, making some for all of them. Brian looked around, taking his tea when it was ready, and peeked out the blinds to see what kind of view his brother had, which turned out to be not much. An adjacent wall, a swimming pool and a street.

  “Wow, inspirational,” muttered Brian just as Barrett came back out in jeans, hair still wet, buttoning up his casual shirt. Even if he hadn’t heard his youngest brother’s words, he felt his intent, and nodded just the same.

  “Yeah, well... it’s not an art studio, that’s for sure. I overbought,” he said with a sigh. “I should start looking for something smaller.”

  “At some point,” said Mike, shrugging. “All our places are big enough for crash space, so that’s nice.”

  “Crash space?”

  “Yeah, you know, in case we want another sleepover,” he said with a chuckle. Brian grinned, partly thinking of how Mike had crashed through his ceiling.

  “I really liked that a lot, last night,” said their youngest. “Just like old times. Only thing missing was Mystery Science Theater 3000.” They all grinned and finished their tea, then looked at each other.

  “So, now what? And that’s like the second or third time
I’ve asked that,” said Barrett with a chuckle.

  “And we still don’t have an answer,” said Mike. “Other than... see where this roller coaster’s going. Remember to raise your hands just before the big hill,” he said, smirking.

  “I think we already went over that part. I was in the last car, that's all,” tossed back Barrett. He couldn’t help but smile softly at them, looking at their faces, thoughtful.

  “I could use a change of clothes too,” said Mike at last. “You with me?” Brian grinned from ear to ear, eager for another flight with them.

  “Hell yes, I could do this all day,” he said, almost bouncing. “And I haven’t seen your place either, so...”

  Barrett nodded, then put the mugs in the sink. “Okay then. Let’s go.”

  Brian could hardly believe it. “You’re coming too?”

  “Sure, why not?” said Barrett with a shrug. “It’s Saturday. What else am I gonna do?”

  A few minutes later they were back in the air, and a few minutes after that, Brian struck up a song they all knew well, Mike bobbing his head in time and singing dramatically loud, making them all laugh. They followed the freeways north, skimming the air as if they had been born there, three thousand feet up and cutting through the thermals and currents, enjoying the temperature differences, the different scents of spring, the occasional hint of sea air from far away.

  Mike squinted at something as they approached what he guessed was probably Stockton. “Where’s all that smoke coming from?”

  Brian looked up to where he was pointing. “Probably some farmer burning off his fields. But,” he said, thinking about it a little more, “they usually do that in the fall.”

  They were all drawing closer, squinting and trying to see what the cause of it was, when the wispy column turned into a darker mushroom and billowed up.

  “That’s a shopping center,” muttered Barrett.

  EIGHT

  Mike darted forward, and could now see the cause of the sudden mushroom of smoke. The roof of the shopping center had collapsed, the fire trucks not enough to keep up with the spreading flames. At the epicenter was a massive book store – not a modern chain, but an old used book store that the center had been built around, three stories of out-of-print treasures, up in flames. Along with the antiquated sprinkler system that had failed to turn on when the popcorn in the break room had caught fire inside the microwave.

  “There’s people in there,” said Brian. His brothers didn’t question how he knew, they could feel it too. There was a tiny pull along with that knowledge, like the pull that had made them drive off the main road and find the car wreck where Brian had manifested. A feeling. A call.

  Still invisible, they moved lower to see how they could help most, finally landing together on a nearby roof. Now that the open roof was letting in more oxygen, the fire was spreading rapidly to other stores in the complex.

  “God, what an inferno,” muttered Mike, pacing nervously as he looked for a way to get to the people trapped inside. He was interrupted, however, by Barrett apparently talking to himself in an agitated manner.

  “No, no... stop. Slow down.”

  His brothers looked at him, confused, then realized he was on the phone. Barrett paced back and forth on the rooftop, scowling, and after a minute, they realized he’d slipped back into being visible. They tried to pull him back away from the edge of the building, but he shook them off, irritated.

  “Dammit, this isn’t a good time,” he was saying. “You already got... you’re nuts. You’re freaking nuts. I’m not gonna pay for your dog’s... That was YOUR dog the whole time!” His brothers looked at each other, then at the crowd below, who seemed focused on the fire. Nobody was looking up, fortunately.

  “Bear...” Mike whispered hoarsely, trying to get his attention, but Barrett turned his back and stuck his finger in his ear.

  “No, you’re the one that’s... you know what? Talk to my lawyer about it. I’m sure he can tell you to screw off better than I can,” he growled, stabbing the button on his phone to disconnect the call. “What is it?” he snapped at them, turning. They took a step back, Mike’s wings flicking in alarm.

  “Dude, people can see you,” Brian said, his voice rising with stress. Mike nodded.

  “At least get back from the edge of the roof, okay?” Their middle brother beckoned toward Barrett with a nod, like trying to coax a child or a dog away from a land mine. With an annoyed grunt, he did as he was told, then concentrated and slipped from everyone’s view but theirs, wings twitching with irritation.

  “Stupid... you wouldn’t believe what she’s trying to do.”

  “Bear, the fire...?” Brian nodded toward the adjacent roof, nervously shifting from foot to foot, Mike already back to looking for an entrance to get the people out. “Not much time...”

  “Yeah.” Barrett took off without a word and flew around to the back of the building where the alley was too narrow for emergency vehicles and unsafe for firefighters in case the wall collapsed. He kicked at a back door and discovered it was locked, then did the same with a lower story window, cussing as he tore his pant leg on some glass, the fabric staining with blood before the cut healed itself. His brothers were right behind and saw what he was doing, then started to help. Soon, they were in and trying to find a way up to the people trapped on the second floor.

  “What if we...” started Mike, yelling over the roar of the fire, but Barrett cut him off.

  “Brian, take the front by the water. Mike, you’re on the right, I’m going up the stairs.” Without waiting for their answer or approval, he charged forward into the smoke, coughing. Mike growled through his teeth, but did as he was told – he knew better than to try and rearrange everything once somebody had taken charge and given orders, even if they weren’t the best orders, in his opinion. Now that things were set into motion and his brother had disappeared into the inferno, it wasn’t a good idea to change horses in midstream.

  Doing as his oldest brother had commanded, Brian headed for the front of the buildings where most of the fire equipment was stationed in the parking lot. He could see the frantic efforts from the other side of the dirty, broken windows, half tripping over scorched and waterlogged books as he made his way along the front, still carefully invisible.

  The crew had managed to douse the lower part of the fire where Brian was standing, but not before a portion of the building and floor above him had crumbled, allowing him to fly carefully through the gap to where the fire was still raging uncontrolled on the second floor. Water suddenly slammed into him through the front wall, throwing him against some shelves and drenching him, temporarily cracking a rib. Coughing, he shook his dripping hair out of his eyes as the pain disappeared.

  This is turning into suck... where are the...

  Meanwhile, Mike was fighting his way up a small dumb waiter shaft. The old ropes had burned away and dropped the small utility elevator into the basement before he’d gotten there, leaving a narrow vertical space to navigate. Using his wings was impossible in the limited space, but he was finding that, with enough concentration, he could scale the inside quickly with a combination of levitation and climbing techniques.

  At the second floor, the walls became too hot to touch, and several feet up, flames were starting to poke through the wood, so he delivered a firm kick and broke through. Fire rushed into the shaft. He kicked the hole large enough to jump through, covered his face with his arms, and kicked off from the opposite wall, rolling through the flames and kinking a few feathers in the process.

  Ow, dammit...

  He shook the damaged ones out of his wings, much like removing an annoying splinter, and tried to breathe in the heated, smoky air. He expected to have a coughing fit, but it was surprisingly easy. Reaching out gently with his mind, he felt where the trapped people were. Two of them, and they were nearby. He knew that if he could feel them, so could his brothers, so he headed in the direction the pull was coming from, knowing they’d be along shortly.
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br />   Barrett had gone up the main open staircase in the center of the building, where the fire had rushed up to begin with. The metal railing was still nearly glowing with heat, and he left some fingerprints behind with a yelp of pain before healing again. The remains of the carpeted stairs smoked and threatened to give way under him, until at last he found his way through the thick smoke at the top. Water from the fire trucks poured onto his head from the roof above as flames danced and leapt.

  The trucks had managed to douse the central blaze, but now there were two separate fires, one heading for the back corner of the store, where the two people were trapped, the other heading into the rest of the attached shopping center. He ignored the fire spreading toward the mall, sensing that no one was in danger there, and tried to fight his way through the flames toward the people and his brothers.

  He weaved between the rows of bookcases, cut off at every turn, then finally got a break when the water shifted, cutting a path near the windows where Brian had just been. He rounded the corner and saw a flash of white through the chaos, then breathed a sigh of relief. Not that he couldn’t feel where Brian was somewhat, but seeing his exact location was more reassuring.

  The fire blazed up again next to him and he found himself using a wing as a shield against the intense heat, blinking from the smoke in his eyes. He’d gotten slightly turned around, the density of the smoke making it hard to tell which way the front windows were.

  Goddamn it! I think it’s this way...

  He got far enough away from the flames to think properly, and tried to feel out where everybody was located. Brian was in front of him, Mike was on the other side of the room, and the two people were near Brian...

  There. Got it.

  Skirting the fire by pressing himself against the wall, basically following Brian’s path, he eventually made it over to the back corner where the bathrooms were. Mike arrived at the same time, having been slowed by going up the dumb waiter shaft. Brian had his hand on the door handle of the men’s room. But they knew what he was going to say, even as he opened his mouth to speak.