Triune Page 9

  “I can’t do this.”

  “Can’t...?”

  “This job. It’s... gray.”

  Brian breathed out a little sigh of relief that Mike wasn’t talking about their recent changes, then blinked a few times at his brother’s odd way of describing a job.

  “...Gray?”

  Mike paused, also realizing that it was kind of a strange thing to say, but kept going. “Yeah, you know, colorless, soulless... I gotta get out of here. I... can I come over...?”

  Remembering Barrett’s admonition, he glanced at the clock, somehow knowing what his middle brother had in mind. He was going to fly.

  “You can’t. I mean, not yet. Barrett said that what we were doing was messing with him.”

  “What?”

  “Messing with, like... he can feel when we do things. And he called and asked that we not do stuff during business hours, he said.” He could hear Mike mutter something unpleasant under his breath.

  “Fine,” he said tightly. “I’ll wait.” Mike hung up abruptly and tapped his pen on his desk with a metallic sound. The clock read 4:36, the second hand seeming to move slower and slower by the moment. After about ten minutes of torture, however, the C.O. came in and gave him a break.

  “You’ve had enough fun for one day, Mason, why don’t you go home. See you Monday morning.”

  Mike, in disbelief, blinked at him and nodded. “Thanks, sir. I’ll... yeah.” He gathered up his meager things, consisting of a file folder, a new pen, and the stuff he’d walked in with in his pockets, and had to stop himself from running to the car. Once there, he sat for a moment in frustration at having to even use a car, but then managed to get himself to his new apartment without incident.

  As he’d suspected, it was mostly furnished to Barrett’s modern lacquered wood and brushed metal tastes, but after the military bunks and hospital beds he’d had to endure, it was the most perfect thing on the planet. Clean, off-white walls led from the front door down a short entryway to where a small living room opened up, a pleasingly neutral sofa facing several windows with a decent view, a small table and lamp in front of that to give a gentle light from that side of the room after the sun had gone down and the blinds were pulled.

  He moved past the sofa to the dining room table behind it, simple dark wood with an interesting green vase in the middle. Beyond that was the small kitchen that was the perfect size for a couple, or for one person who tended toward being a foodie. He opened the cabinets and chuckled as he found a large supply of tea in one of them.

  The bedroom was next to the front hall, and it was spacious and filled with light from two large windows, a cherry tree outside leafing out, the glossy leaves still a bright green and half sized. He was sorry that he’d missed the flowers. Growing up in San Francisco, before going into foster care and before Brian had come along, he and Barrett had a huge cherry tree in the back yard that created a snowfall of light pink petals every spring when they fell, and it was one of his fondest childhood memories.

  He flopped backwards onto the king bed, smiling at the perfect combination of soft and firm under him. It was such a contrast to where he’d been for the past few years that he half expected to wake up. Rolling to one side, he gazed sideways at his spacious closet, then squinted. Something was sitting on the top shelf. He got up to investigate and discovered several sets of new sheets, his brows lifting with a smirk as he realized that one set was satin. He could almost hear Barrett’s voice in his head, also smirking, saying “you never know when you might need them.”

  He started unlacing his boots, but then realized what time it was. Half past five. After business hours. With a grin, he made sure nothing was in danger of getting knocked over and closed his eyes. A shiver of pleasure rippled up his back as he let his wings out, and he breathed in the feeling of freedom that it gave. They were free and unconfined, and he was free to fly wherever he wanted now. The one place on his mind was Brian’s studio, but he knew he’d have to wait until at least dusk to get away with it.

  Barrett had been in the middle of a private meeting with David, his second in command, when the feeling washed through him and over his shoulder blades, derailing him in mid-sentence. He took a deep breath and tried to recover, but David was already next to him, making sure he was all right.

  “Yeah,” said Barrett, putting up a hand to wave the man off. “I’m sorry... I think I’m coming down with something.” He chuckled weakly and rubbed at the goose bumps on his forearms. “Chills.” When the second wave hit, he knew that the other brother had probably let his wings out in response to the first, and could only sit back in his chair with his hand over his eyes, fighting it.

  “I think I should... I’ll talk to you more about that project tomorrow,” he muttered, David agreeing and leaving the man to collect himself. After all, whatever Barrett had, he didn’t want to catch it.

  In the now-silent office, the leather of his chair squeaked underneath him, almost magnified somehow. It proved he was still there in his normal surroundings, just as before. The only thing that had changed was him. And that was what scared him the most.

  As the sky began to darken outside, the sensations continued but lighter, like aftershocks from an earthquake. He knew that the first waves were them bringing out their wings, and the smaller sensations were them doing... something. He found himself trying to guess what. Healing themselves? Healing someone else? Flying? Something new?

  As if watching himself in a dream, he slowly started making his way out of his office, into the elevator, and up to the roof. A light breeze teased at his hair as he stared out over the twilight city, gaze distant and only half seeing. The feeling had moved from light waves to a near constant urge, pulling him, pulling at what was inside him. He closed his eyes and stood at the edge of the building, wondering what would happen if he fell.

  Judging the sky to finally be dark enough, Mike put on a slate blue tee and some jeans, along with his familiar lace-up leather work boots. When not forced to be in combat boots, he preferred the more comfortable civilian version, familiar yet offering protection and ankle support. One never knew when one might need them. He poked his head outside the back door and was relieved to find nobody around. With a muscular push off, he went as high as he could as fast as he could, doing his best to send out “do not see me” vibes.

  Looking down, the darkening city of Sacramento stretched out underneath him like a crazy spider web of movement and color and lights that were just going on. The huge Sacramento river looked like a golden Chinese dragon as it lazily meandered through the heart of the state capital, reflecting the twilight sky where Michael now flew. Tears came to his eyes at the sight, and at the same time he was grinning like a little kid. This was his now.

  He turned eastward in the cooling air and wondered if he’d made a mistake in not bringing a jacket. The temperatures, he knew, fell three degrees for every thousand feet of altitude, so what seemed warm at the ground was probably...

  I wonder how high up I am?

  Using his paratrooper’s knowledge of calculating height, he estimated he was at about two thousand feet on the assumption that the city was at sea level. He chuckled to himself as he remembered the last time he was trying to calculate the distance from the ground – when he was busy falling out of an airplane and saving a woman’s life. His first angelic act.

  Or was it? As he flew farther east, over the foothills toward Reno, he pondered. Had he always been like this and just not known it? He thought back to his time in the military and realized that there had been so many times that he’d saved other peoples’ lives that he was beginning to get teased about it. Not a cruel teasing, but a light-hearted grateful nudge from his troops.

  Wings out wide, riding the thermals coming off the mountains, he easily glided toward his brother’s studio, somehow knowing the way even from a completely new perspective and in the near-darkness. He realized he was feeling it more than seeing it, and rubbed down the goosebumps that came. Then he real
ized that he wasn’t cold in the least. He was aware of the difference in temperature due to the altitude, but it wasn’t affecting his body.

  Touching down lightly, he quickly looked around and put his wings away, then knocked. Brian cracked the door open, a huge grin on his face, then stepped behind it to let his brother in. Mike realized with a start, once inside, that Brian had his out. They grinned at each other and Mike brought his back out too. Brian shivered.

  “Getting easier, isn’t it,” Mike said, and Brian nodded in agreement.

  “Feels more intense, too. Can’t explain it. Something changed today, though. Does that make any sense?”

  Mike cocked his head, then nodded. “Yeah. It does. It did.” He was starting to think more about what the difference was when his brother nudged him.

  “So how was your flight? Any turbulence?” Brian was grinning and smirking at the same time. “Did you get a snack and a pillow?”

  Mike snortchuckled and smirked back. “No, I was going to charge myself extra for a pillow, so I skipped it. A snack sounds great, though. Hey, you want to order a pizza?”

  Brian’s eyes and grin widened. “Yes! I haven’t had a pizza in forever! Where’s the phone book..?” He rummaged around in a pile of papers and Mike just watched him, chuckling softly. He looked both unfamiliar and completely natural somehow, pure white wings tucked neatly out of the way behind his back. An angel looking for a phone book. The dichotomy was very entertaining.

  Just then, they heard a soft thump against the front door and then some kind of sound on the doorstep. Hair and feathers stood on end a little as they looked at each other.

  “Doesn’t feel dangerous, though,” Brian whispered. Mike nodded, then cocked his head, not knowing how they both knew that, but there wasn’t time to think about it. Brian looked through the peephole and saw nothing. Brow creasing, he got behind the door, ready to open it for his brother, as Mike stood on the other side and up against the wall. Old habits died hard, and it was better to take on the unknown military-style than to potentially get a bullet in the brain if it was one of the alley gang-bangers coming back.

  He was just starting to smirk a tiny bit at the memory of how that previous encounter had gone when Brian opened the door.

  There, on his knees, sobbing, was Barrett, pearl gray wings trembling with fatigue and emotion behind him.

  SIX

  Both his brothers gasped in shock, eyes widening, and they hustled Barrett inside, quickly shutting the door once he was in.

  “Did you just...” gasped Brian, and their oldest nodded.

  “I couldn’t... it was like I was on autopilot, and I just... went to the roof... and... couldn’t stop myself...” He started sobbing all over again, a mixture of frustration and relief washing out of him, and he reached for them blindly.

  “We’re here,” said Mike, and they knelt down and held Barrett tight until he finally stopped shaking, which took a good five minutes.

  “Here, I’ll get some tea.” Brian slipped off to the kitchen to make some for all of them while Mike kept holding onto his older brother, gently brushing back his windblown hair and wrapping a black wing around him protectively. He’d only seen Barrett this vulnerable a few times in his life, so he knew it must be bad, and that his job was just to be there for him and help keep him together.

  Finally Barrett looked up, eyes bloodshot, but as Michael watched in wonder, they returned to normal now that his brother was done crying. Healing and going back to some natural resting state all on their own.

  “What...?” Barrett said softly, seeing that his brother was staring at his face.

  “Nothing, just making sure you’re okay. You think you can put ‘em away yet?”

  “Put... oh...” said Barrett, still a little dazed. Eyes blank and seeing something inside himself only, he found what he needed. The light inside his center that the wings were coming from seemed brighter now, and he gently nudged the pearl gray feathers back into their hiding place there. All three of them shivered a little as it happened, Brian stopping in mid-stride to be sure he didn’t spill any tea. In deference to Barrett, the other two put theirs away as well, causing them to all close their eyes and take a few deep breaths as the sensation rippled through them. It was getting stronger.

  “So now what happens,” said the analytical Barrett, more as a statement than a question. He didn’t have any issues with venturing into unfamiliar waters – his job as CEO of an import company required it – but he did prefer a good map before setting sail. This trip, however, didn’t seem to have one.

  “Um...” said Brian quietly, handing them both some strong decaf tea, made just the way they liked it. “I guess we see where the rabbit hole goes, Alice.”

  Barrett merely grunted a little and sipped at the tea like it would help keep things from turning sideways further. Mike took the opportunity to uncramp his legs and sit properly on the floor with them, idly looking over at the wall of stained glass, now dark with the night. His mind wandered as his eyes wandered over the silvery shapes of metal that held the colored glass within. Finally his gaze settled on a huge oak tree, and an interesting geometric pattern in the bark...

  “Ow,” Barrett said as he shifted, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. “I think my butt went to sleep.” They snickered at him a little and all hauled each other up off the cold floor. Tea was retrieved and sipped quietly together in a silence that was both comfortable, because of the presence of the others, and awkward because of the elephant in the room. Barrett smacked his tingling butt into wakefulness, then sighed.

  “Well, I’m here now, and unless I want to rent another car, not that I probably can at this hour, only one realistic way home,” he said, twisting his back until it snapped a little. He gave another deep sigh, pressed his lips together, and looked around. “Dinner?”

  “Believe it or not, I was just about to order a pizza,” offered Brian, and they nodded at him. He was making the call for a large veggie supreme to be delivered, along with some green salad and breadsticks, when Barrett strode over to look at the windows. He cocked his head a little at them, but without the sunlight coming through, their stories were hidden for the most part.

  They watched him walk out the front door, then followed, until all three of them were standing outside the studio, the windows darkly luminous. Brian jogged back in, turned up all the lights, then returned. Barrett grunted again, which could have meant “that’s interesting” or expressed displeasure. It was hard to tell with him sometimes. He moved a little closer to the last angel window, now to their left and backwards, and crossed his arms.

  “So that’s me,” he said quietly.

  His brothers looked at each other, then Brian spoke up. “Looks like. Ours are over there,” he said with a nod toward the other two windows. Barrett glanced over and nodded back in acknowledgment.

  “I see you guys are in... mine. And a few people from my office, strangely. But the rest I don’t know.”

  “People from... really?” said Brian, stepping closer to examine their hand-painted faces. “Like who?”

  “Well, that one’s Angela, and there’s David,” he said, getting as close as he could and pointing up at them. His mind was changing gears fairly quickly, acceptance filtering in to replace the ulcer-inducing stress of denial, not just of what he was, but of his natural role as the head of their family. The leader. After what he’d just done to get there, it seemed foolish to keep rejecting everything. The flight and subsequent breakdown had been cathartic, and now he could see more clearly and finally move forward. He still rankled that they hadn’t been given any kind of a roadmap or user’s manual, but they’d get through somehow. He’d make sure they did, just like always.

  “Angela, huh?” put in Mike with a little snort. Barrett turned to look at him with a smirky smile.

  “I know, right? And she was talking to me at the office after all this first happened, and I was thinking, ‘somebody up there’s messing with me.’”

&
nbsp; They all chuckled, then turned back to looking at the windows. The moon was just coming up in the eastern sky, gently illuminating them as the light finished fading behind them. It was a beautiful spring evening, and they just stood in silence, enjoying the balmy temperatures and the stained glass before them. Even the mosquitoes seemed to ignore them.

  Eventually the pizza arrived, but instead of going into the cramped kitchenette at the back of the studio, they decided to take everything outside and have an impromptu picnic in the vacant lot that separated Brian’s building from the street. Glass was kicked out of the way, a sturdy Mexican woven blanket was laid down, and plates and sodas completed the setting. Barrett even took off his dress shoes (wingtips, ironically) and belt for the occasion, sitting cross-legged on the blanket in the dirt lot with his brothers, feeling better about things by the minute. Not stressing over when it would happen to him and surrendering to the inevitable was turning out to be a huge relief. Even though he still didn’t really know what the future would bring, that kind of stress he could handle. Especially because they were all in it together.

  “My god, this pizza’s good. And what’s the deal with that tree?” he mumbled around a mouthful of food, pointing at the huge glass oak panel.

  Mike blinked at his older brother. “You know, I was looking at that earlier. Something in the bark...”

  “There’s a pattern there. See it? But it seems like something’s missing. I can’t put my finger on it.”

  Brian merely watched and listened, eating and enjoying their company, idly looking at the windows he’d seen hundreds of times before. Why the oak tree would capture each man’s attention, individually yet all on the same night, was intriguing, however. They were quiet for some time, until finally Barrett spoke up again.

  “Okay. We see ourselves in each of those panels, right?” He couldn’t bring himself to say the A-word either. Yet. “Mike, yours is first. Describe it for me.”