Triune Page 14

  “Gonna need a haircut soon. So... lunch?”

  “Dinner, more like,” said Brian, looking at the time. “Supper. Whatever.”

  “Afternoon tea?” suggested Mike.

  “Too early,” said Barrett. They shrugged, having no further suggestions, and Mike put on his usual boots.

  “So where are we going next? Brian’s place, or yours?” he said, nodding at his older brother.

  “I’ve at least got clean pajamas on. I vote for Bri’s place,” said Barrett. “And it’s not like anybody’s going to see us. I mean, I could just go out naked, and...”

  “You wouldn’t!” squeaked Brian, making them all laugh.

  “No, I wouldn’t. But I could...” Barrett said in a humorously threatening tone.

  They ribbed each other most of the way to Reno, enjoying each others’ company immensely, living in the moment. The excitement and joy of flying, of spending time together, it was like a perfect dream, overriding the growing apprehension about the future, and the argument they’d had over the fire. They landed lightly on the roof together, Barrett barefoot once again, but carefully avoiding stubbing his toes this time.

  “Gotta do something about this skylight,” grumbled Mike, kicking at the wooden patch.

  “I’m gonna call about it Monday,” Brian said, fishing the key to the front door out of his pocket. He was about to push off and drop gently to the ground to open it for them, but stopped himself. Thinking, he cocked his head a little, looked down at the rooftop, then back up at them. Mike’s brows lifted, picking up on what his younger brother was thinking. Then Brian gracefully slipped down through the surface and into the studio below, disappearing from sight.

  Barrett and Mike looked at each other for a minute, blinking, then shrugged and did the same.

  “That was cool looking,” Brian said with a grin as they descended out of the ceiling. Suddenly he laughed loudly and bumped Mike. “Hey! Remember when you first got here? And I asked if you were dead? And...”

  Mike chuckled, nodding. “You asked me to check if I could walk through walls. And the irony just keeps on coming.”

  Barrett smirked at them, amused. “The comedy team of Mason and Mason. Are you going to change or what?” he said, waving a hand at Brian. Their youngest grinned and took off for the closet, which was downstairs next to the tiny bathroom and kitchenette, underneath the sleeping loft.

  Eventually they made it all the way back to San Jose, stopping in Sacramento for Barrett’s forgotten wallet and keys, everyone in fresh clothes and showered. On the way down they had skimmed over the fire site, which was out but in the clean-up stages, and smiled at each other. A job well done despite the rough edges.

  “Okay, now it’s dinner time,” announced Barrett, “and I’m starved.”

  NINE

  “Wow. Look at that sunset.”

  They were reclining on the roof of the Heritage Bank Building, watching the sun go down over San Jose. Barrett was playing with a toothpick, moving it around with his tongue as it stuck out from between his teeth. Mike was sitting on the very edge of the building, heels kicking the wall, black feathers occasionally ruffling in the light evening breezes.

  “Yeah.”

  Still they sat, watching as the sky darkened and the stars started to come out, the air turning slightly chill, not that they felt it. They were immune, and watching the airplanes flying low overhead and landing at the airport now that the post-attack ban had been lifted, watching people walking into the Center for the Performing Arts to watch that night’s ballet.

  They all shared the unsettling feeling that came every time they thought about separating. At some level they all knew that was why they were continuing to procrastinate on the roof of Barrett’s office building, but none of them were really willing to give more than a half-hearted effort to do anything about it.

  Mike cracked his back, wings stretching out wide. He didn’t really care if someone from the building across the street saw them. He knew they would have needed a good telescope to make out any faces anyway.

  Maybe it’ll give somebody hope, if they see us here.

  “Hey, did you hear something?” Brian hopped down from the ledge he’d been sitting on and looked over the edge of the building.

  “Like what?” asked Barrett.

  “Like... somebody talking.” Brian thought perhaps he was hearing someone’s voice carry up from the street, now that the Sunday evening was turning darker and quieter.

  “Maybe I was thinking too loud,” said Mike with a little amused snort. Brian turned, eyes wide.

  “Wait, maybe you were.”

  His brothers looked at each other for a moment, not quite understanding where Brian was going with it, but dots slowly started to get connected.

  Barrett’s brows furrowed. “What are you saying?”

  “The fire. Remember? We both got out first, and we were calling to you, Bear, but there’s no way you could have heard us. But you answered, and at the time, we weren’t sure what we were hearing. But...”

  Barrett nodded slowly, taking this in. He had to admit that something else strange had happened at the fire, besides them going through the walls, and with so much going on at the time, they’d all glossed over or forgotten it.

  This ride just gets wilder and wilder, Barrett thought, but not to himself. He looked at them, trying to do... something... to project his thoughts outward. The startled looks on their faces marked his success.

  “I heard you.” said Mike with a note of astonishment. Brian grinned so brightly it felt like the sun might reverse its course and come back up behind him. Barrett couldn’t help but smile a little too.

  I wonder what the range is on this, he said, ever-analytical. Do you think we could go to our houses, and...

  “You guys!” interrupted Brian, grinning hugely. “It’s like we’re suddenly all ventriloquists, but like the best ventriloquists in the universe!”

  “Yeah, quite an act. First comedy, and now ventriloquism. Too bad vaudeville doesn’t exist any more,” said Barrett with a chuckle. “Could even throw in The Flying Mason Brothers as the grand finale.”

  That made Brian laugh, which made them laugh, which made him laugh harder, which eventually turned him into a giggling pile. The giggles subsided, Brian wiping at his eyes a little, all of them slowly sobering up as they again faced the eventuality of having to go to their separate homes and get some sleep.

  “We can’t just screw around on this roof all night,” said Barrett softly. "For one thing, my poor car’s been here all night. Hopefully people don’t think I jumped off a bridge or worked the entire time. I’m going to drive it home tonight, as long as I’m here. I gotta at least move it.”

  “Right.” Mike smiled back a little. He was still talking himself into the idea that it would be okay to be apart for the night, ignoring the feeling of unease in his gut. The logical, familiar part of his mind was telling him there was no reason to feel how he did. That there was nothing normal about the weird pull toward his brothers that he was getting. That he could feel them all getting. He shook his head a little, cleared his throat, and looked out at the lights of the other buildings.

  Barrett touched their shoulders and made the first move, pushing off and gliding swiftly toward the ground without another word.

  They watched him touch down, then put his wings away as he walked into the parking garage, his brothers still feeling where he was. Brian sighed, gazing in the direction he’d gone.

  See you tomorrow, Bear, he said.

  See you tomorrow, came the reply out of the darkness.

  For a while, the two remaining brothers stood on the roof, looking out at the view, still not wanting to move. Not wanting to get any farther away from Barrett, even as they could feel him moving south toward his condo. Mike sighed, knowing that Brian would stay there with him all night looking at the view unless he did something about it.

  “Fly with me to my place?” Mike put a hand on his younger brother�
��s shoulder gently.

  “Yeah,” Brian said with a nod, still looking over the edge of the building. Then he looked up at Mike with a little smile. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

  They took off together, heading north, following the freeways’ ribbons of red and white lights. They didn’t speak much, occasionally playing with their newfound telepathy. Barrett almost told them to be quiet, since he could hear them too, but didn’t have the heart. It reminded him of long ago, being in foster care, listening to them whispering to each other in their shared bedroom while he pretended to be asleep.

  They found Mike’s apartment easily enough, the route from the air becoming more familiar with each trip. Brian followed him inside, the feeling of something being “not quite right” persisting the longer they were apart from Barrett, and the more the miles separated them. Finally Mike turned to him and sighed.

  “You know you gotta go home some time, right?”

  Brian looked up at him, eyes a little sad. “Yeah. I know. So what do you think of working for Mason Imports?” he said, procrastinating by changing the subject. “Will he drive you nuts? I give it a month,” he said with a little chuckle.

  “I give it two weeks,” Mike quipped back, smiling. “No, I don’t think it’ll be that bad. Looking forward to it, actually.” He looked at his watch meaningfully and stretched until his back cracked a little. Brian took the hint.

  “Yeah, all right. Been a trip. Well, lots of trips today,” he said, smiling. “I kind of like this angel business. I wish I knew why, though. You know?”

  Mike nodded. He did know, and they’d all pondered separately and to themselves why it was happening to them. It was easy to get caught up in the moment, in the strangeness and the discovery, and put aside the “why?” But knowing why would help answer a lot of questions, like what they were supposed to be doing with it next, and if it was happening to others.

  “Okay, get out of here, I'm going to bed,” Mike said with a chuckle, nudging his brother toward the door.

  “The door? Doors are for chumps!” said Brian brightly. He grinned and unfurled his wings, making both his brothers’ backs ripple, then launched himself straight through the ceiling, intangible. Mike whistled and rubbed down the gooseflesh on his shoulders.

  Still gonna take some getting used to, he sent out.

  Small price to pay, said Brian. Barrett’s contribution was a slightly annoyed mental grunt in their general direction. They both grinned, recognizing the “knock it off, I’m trying to sleep,” signal.

  Radio silence ensued, and they all felt cut off. They could use cell phones, but it wasn’t the same at all. Instead, each decided to focus on getting to be together for all of the next day, too, which was spent almost exactly the same as Saturday had been, with tea, and flying, and good food, and practicing their newfound abilities together.

  The sun was just coming up on Monday morning when Mike found himself in an odd dream, tossing and turning a little. He was watching the NASA channel, when Mission Control started playing the day’s “wake up” song to the Space Station crew, but the song he was hearing was perfectly crystal clear, as if he were listening on his home stereo. The other odd thing was that it was a song he’d never heard before.

  He rolled over and cracked his eyes open, and still the song was going through his head. Blinking, he sat up, confused. He looked around, and even went into the living room, trying to hunt down the source of the music, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. It almost seemed to be coming from...

  Good morning, said Brian’s voice in his head, making him jump a little.

  Gmhng... huh...? he managed to say back.

  Did it work? I was trying to see if I could do like a NASA wake up song. It’s “It’ll Be a Good Day” by Yes.

  “Uh... yeah...” he said aloud, before shaking the rest of the fog out of his head. Yeah. I got it. Was pretty weird. I couldn’t figure out...

  So that’s what that was, came Barrett’s voice, awake, but more concerned than excited. I was about to start pounding on the neighbor’s walls.

  Brian chuckled softly and stopped sending whatever music he was listening to. Even Barrett couldn’t help but smile a little at his brother’s enthusiasm. Playing with a new toy. One that, Barrett realized, would come in extremely useful, along with a few of the other things they could now do.

  The oldest Mason brother looked at his watch, then adjusted his French cuffs. Today he wanted to project a little extra authority and reassurance, just in case anybody questioned his decision to bring on Mike, or wondered about his car being in the garage too long. It was only seven in the morning, but he tended to get ready early, especially since he slept less than most and laid things out in advance.

  Mike, now that he was vertical, was struggling with what to wear. He’d narrowed the shirts down to two choices, a burgundy long sleeve button-up, or a more casual sage green polo. He knew that Barrett usually wore suits, but it wasn’t his thing. He could manage some nice linen slacks, however, and a cotton blazer, all of which were provided by the kindness of his brother and his brother’s bank account.

  “Red... green... red... green... aw dammit.” He sighed, still holding up the burgundy, leaning that direction, when Barrett’s voice out of nowhere made him jump.

  Green polo.

  “What...?” Oh... thanks...how did you know what...

  You should get going.

  Yeah, yeah, I still have to eat breakfast. If I run late I can just meet you at the office, you know.

  Suit yourself.

  Mike smirked a little. There was Barrett, falling into his bossy, big brotherly ways. And now that they could be in constant communication...

  And I suppose you’re going to listen to me take a crap next?

  The only response from his older brother was something between a snort and a laugh, then nothing. Mike chuckled to himself, then rummaged around and poured out some cereal. As much of a pain as Barrett was sometimes, one thing he did do well was take care of his brothers, which included buying some basic groceries for Mike’s new place, like cereal, milk, juice, peanut butter, bread, and other staples.

  At last he laced up his distressed brown oxfords, packed up a couple of things, then brought his wings out. Barrett, feeling it, resisted the urge to mentally comment about how long he was taking, instead chuckling to himself as he started making a fresh pot of coffee for the both of them. Shortly before eight, there was a knock at the door.

  “It’s not like I couldn’t tell who it was,” said Barrett with a laugh, opening it. “You gonna leave the boys all hanging out there, or what?” he said, nodding at his brother’s wings.

  “Why? Something wrong with ‘em?” Mike smirked at him a little and pushed past, scenting the fresh coffee.

  “No, no... just got some fragile stuff in here.” Barrett knew it was an excuse, that he was mostly having a wave of needing to feel normal for a bit. But he merely shrugged and poured coffee for them both. Mike, picking up on it, put them away and slid into an armchair. Something else he picked up on was that Barrett was much better dressed than himself, and guessed that his brother had suggested the polo on purpose.

  “You know, I think I will go with the red one. Excuse me a minute.” He took his bag into the bedroom and swapped shirts, having brought the spare just in case something happened to the first one. Barrett figured that it was probably in response to his suit, but didn’t say anything. He was still more nicely dressed and projected leadership, that was what mattered.

  Mike came back out, buttoning his cuffs. “So, I know you go around to other countries, buy stuff, and sell it wholesale to other companies. obviously there’s more to it than that, right?”

  “Yes and no,” said Barrett, handing his brother a cup of coffee made just the way he liked. “You have to get a sense of what the market trends are, sometimes a year in advance if you can manage it. You have to do trade shows. The San Francisco International Gift Fair is a big one, that’s coming up in August and aga
in in February. You have to be able to work orders with your foreign contacts. Sometimes it’s a family in Laos that makes the best bamboo baskets you’ve ever seen. Maybe it’s a small company in Egypt you can hand a design to and say ‘make five thousand of these for me.’ But... yeah, basically it’s just buying and selling what people in other countries make.”

  Mike sipped his coffee, listening carefully. It actually sounded a lot more complicated – and interesting – than he’d realized.

  “So what do you see me doing?”

  “Not sure yet. Have to give you the grand tour and see what might be a good fit. Meet the team. All that.” Barrett finished the last of his coffee and glanced at the time.

  Mike nodded, thinking. He’d been to a good chunk of the world, but only from the military side of things. The idea of really examining what people were making in the context of their native places intrigued him. He looked up at Barrett suddenly, an idea springing into his head.

  “Hey... it’d be easy for us to get to these other countries now.”

  Barrett’s brows lifted a little. “Yeah. It would.”

  They both pondered it for a moment, Barrett much more aware of how that gift of flight could benefit his company. Along with...

  “Languages,” they both said at the same time, Mike snapping his fingers. A little smirking smile slowly crept up on one side of Barrett’s mouth.

  “This could be a really good thing for the company. Come on, let’s get to the office. We can brainstorm on this more once you have a better idea what we do.”

  The drive was both short and long. Blossom Hill was only about a half hour from downtown in rush hour traffic, but the fact that they had to sit in the car for that long at all was tedious, considering. Barrett’s Lexus was nice enough, but even leather seats and the best sound system couldn’t begin to compare to flight. They stole knowing glances and smirks at each other all the way up the elevator, only sobering at the last minute when they reached the doors to Mason Imports.