Like a Bird (19 page)

“I’m not sure. It feels weird.”

“So it’s more revealing, is that what you’re worried about? You don’t have the oppressive curtain of hair to hide behind anymore?”

“How are things going with your new case?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“We’re done talking about my hair.”

“I’m not done. Not until I see it.” Elise leaned on her desk and drummed a pen on the hard surface.

Gareth remained silent.

“I’m meeting Mom for dinner in a few days. She always asks about you. I’d like to let her know how it looks. It hurts her that you haven’t called in months. You’re still her favorite, for some reason.”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t think it’s true.”

“Why would I lie about that? What do I have to gain?”

“She told you this?”

“Of course not, you know she would never admit it. I can tell by the way she lights up when I talk about you. The way she always looked at you with soft, forgiving eyes and spoke to you in a gentle singsong. She never did that with me.”

“She’s always been good to you,” Gareth replied.

“Yeah, she has been. Though I didn’t deserve it as a kid. I was a little shit.”

“You were an angel compared to Jonah and a genius compared to Margaret, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Elise laughed. “Yeah, but they took after their father. I guess it wasn’t hard to be outstanding next to those two.”

“You’ve done very well, Ellie. I’m proud of you.”

The compliment stopped his sister short. “Thank you . . . You’ve done even better, considering the circumstances. I’d be especially proud of you if you showed me your haircut.” A sly smile crossed her face.

Gareth sighed, “Everyone said you’d be a lawyer someday.” He turned on the camera. “There. Happy?”

Elise rested her chin in her hand and studied his hair. Long, dark layers just covered the left side of his face, the scars on his neck thinly disguised by wisps of hair.

“It looks fantastic! It’s perfect.”

“You don’t think it . . . reveals too much?”

“No,” Elise said, shaking her head, “it reveals just enough.”

“So, you like it?”

“Yeah, you should have done this long ago. I think Sky will love it. Has she seen it?”

“Uh, sort of.”

Elise waved away the oblique reply. “Whatever, I can’t figure you two out. I’ve gotta go. Talk soon?”

Gareth nodded.

“OK, bye.” Elise hung up.

Gareth let out a deep breath then sent a short message to Kitty.

How are the numbers coming along? Any updates?

- -

Kitty startled at the sound of her phone in the darkness. Her own limp hand hit her in the face like it belonged to an uncoordinated infant. Kitty groaned and gradually realized it was dark because her eyes were closed. When a little light snuck in between her lashes, her eyes clamped shut and refused to open. She rolled around the bed and slid under a pillow. Her phone finally stopped ringing. Kitty lifted her head and opened her eyes the tiniest bit. She was naked and her crotch was on fire. She rolled over onto her back.

“What the . . . hell is going on?” Kitty sat up and peered at the unfamiliar room. The view out the tall window seemed vaguely familiar.

“Hello? Angelo?” There was no answer except a siren passing by.

Kitty forced herself off the bed and pulled her dress on backward. “Huh, it looks better this way.” She thumped down the spiral staircase from the loft bedroom to the main floor. Every piece of furniture about the place was neat and tidy. She poured herself a glass of water, which she drank while leaning against the kitchen counter. She was so parched it hurt to swallow, and she winced as the first gulp went down.

When the glass was empty she went to clean herself up in the bathroom. Kitty sat on the toilet lid, spread her legs wide, and examined the damage with a compact mirror from her purse. The little mirror failed to tell much of a story, other than reveal a dose of extra reddish flesh, which she expected. She let her dress fall to the floor and stepped into the glass shower stall. A flood of soothing water restored sensation to her skin and cooled her flames.

Now more fully awake and aware, she leaned her arm against the wall and let the water hit her back while tears dripped onto the tile floor. Kitty stayed in the shower until her fingers were prune-like, and when she was dressed again, she pulled her wet hair into a ponytail. She checked all around for a condom but there was nothing, not even a crumpled tissue in a garbage can. She collected her things and went down to the lobby to hail a cab.

The city flew by her passenger window, a blur of gray with hits of color. At a stoplight she took out her phone.

“Hmm. One guy wants fuckery and the other wants numbers. Bloody men,” she said mumbled to herself.

“What’s that?” the cabbie asked and half-turned around.

“Nothing,” Kitty replied, putting away her phone.

- -

Though the cage was heavy it swayed lightly as she paced across its diameter. Four steps was all it took to cross the patch of fur that covered the bottom. At the bars on one side she spun on the ball of her foot, lifted her knee, and grabbed the bar with her one hand. In jogging pants cut into shorts, she tossed her leg in the air like a showgirl, the music playing in her mind, as she danced around the perimeter of her confines and twirled in the center until she fell down, dizzy. The chain held strong in the thick wooden beam. Sky jumped up and down a few times to see if there was any give, but it felt solid, as if the metal and wood were one. She leaned against the bars, her back to the room’s door, and slid down until her butt hit the bottom. She let her arms fall at her sides.

Rose walked in the room with a long package and Wisdom followed joyfully behind her. “This came for you,” she said, smiling.

Wisdom tried to get a good sniff as Rose unlocked the door to the cage and passed the box to Sky.

“Who is it from?” Sky asked.

“I think it’s from Gareth.” On her way out, Rose tried to call the wolf after her, but Wisdom ignored her. Rose shook her head and shut the door.

Sky sat down, tucked her dirty hair behind her ear, and picked at a corner of packing tape. She held the box with her knee and eventually got a good grip to rip the whole thing open. The lid of the rectangular box was also taped shut and Sky let out a groan, to which Wisdom responded by peeking through the bars, her ears back. Even with her chewed nails, Sky managed to open the hinged box lid.

The pinkish contents were obscured by an assortment of protective packaging. Sky shook the wrappings until an arm fell out. She tossed the garbage to the side and stared at the life-like object at her knees. It looked as if it had recently been hacked off some poor girl and cleaned before it was shipped. She reached out to stroke the soft flesh-like material with her fingers, the color almost identical to her own skin. The hand had small fingers that looked like a mirror image of her left hand. Sky picked it up; it felt lighter than a real arm ought to, though she figured it was impossible to know how much an arm should weigh. Wisdom forced her nose between the bars and whined.

“Here, check it out,” Sky said softly and held it to the wolf’s black nose that twitched and sniffed as Wisdom inspected the strange synthetic object.

Sky noticed a nice hollow cup where her stump would fit. In a motion so slow it was almost surreal, Sky fit the prosthetic over her arm and wiggled it into place. She found the material held well to her skin. When she realized the arm was on crooked, her elbow pointing toward her, she gave a small laugh that intensified until she wept heavy tears she wiped away with the back of her real hand.

She turned her watery eyes up at the camera in the corner of the room — Gareth’s second eye. Sky blinked until her own eyes cleared, staring at the camera, a lover that didn’t respond. She mouthed
thank you
in a little whisper. Wisdom sat nearby, waiting for attention, which Sky delivered, sticking her hand out of the bars. Wisdom panted, leaning into Sky’s hand and lapping up her affection.

The sun had dipped low, and Sky sat in the middle of her cage, experimenting with her new arm, when she heard the helicopter approaching. A moment later came the repetitive thud of Gareth rushing down the stairs, followed by a slam of the front door as he left, and then the helicopter thrum faded away over dark treetops.

The house was filled with a heavy stillness and the guarantee that Sky would be spending another night in the cage. She looked solemnly at her new appendage that rested in her lap.

- -

In a dark corner booth, Kitty sat with her phone in hand, posting notes on her website. Massive crystal fixtures hung from the ceiling and a candle burned in the middle of her table. Luxurious drapes dampened all senses, and servers with silver platters catered to men in suits and women in glittery dresses.

Kitty uncrossed her legs and ran her hand along the deep purple satin and chiffon dress she had convinced Angelo was a necessity just that morning. She straightened the crystal necklace that pointed directly at her cleavage. The dim lighting was no match for her glow and she caught the eye of every guest in the vicinity of her private table.

A server brought her a glass of champagne and offered hors d’oeuvres while she waited. His gaze drifted from her lips to her necklace and then to her voluptuous cleavage, though he skillfully glanced back at his tray as Kitty nodded yes. He smiled, then spun around as an enthusiastic group of slight men in black suits gathered around the host station to wait for their table. Their singsong chatter was distinctly foreign and broke the subdued trance of the dimly lit space.

Ignoring the new arrivals, Kitty scanned the room for her ominous antihero. Seeing no sign of him, she leaned against the padded wall and swigged her bubbly. Kitty smiled faintly when the food arrived at her table and entertained herself by nibbling while frequently peering like an anxious pet toward the main entrance.

A dark figure approached from the kitchen and slipped like a panther into the booth. Kitty perked up and so did her breasts as she stared into Gareth’s eye and inhaled his scent.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I got caught up in some work,” he apologized, keeping his jacket on and his hood up.

“It’s fine.” Her lips parted to say more but the words were stuck in her throat. She held his gaze, popped bit of cheese in her mouth, and licked her finger. “Are you going to leave your hood up the whole time?” she asked, leaning toward him.

Gareth caught the glimmer of her necklace but looked away as their server arrived with a glass of champagne for him. Gareth nodded in acceptance but left the glass alone.

Kitty crossed her legs and squeezed her thighs together. “How are you?” she asked while she caressed the stem of her glass.

Gareth leaned in on his elbows. “I’m fine. Have you put together some numbers?”

Kitty shifted in her seat and looked at the menu. “Why don’t we order something to eat first? And why don’t you take off your hood so I can see who I’m talking to?”

Gareth backed away and had a sip of champagne. Kitty noticed he didn’t touch his menu.

“Have you been here before?” she asked.

“No.”

“Oh. Well I’m going to look at the menu.” They sat in uncomfortable silence with Kitty pretending to read the menu and Gareth pretending to ignore her.

Kitty pursed her lips and looked at the grim figure across from her. “I’m in the mood for something rich and creamy.” She picked up her glass by the stem and tilted her head. “Did you cut your hair?” She gestured toward Gareth with her glass, nearly spilling her drink.

Gareth’s shoulders rose with a deep inhalation. “Yes.”

Kitty’s lips curled into a coy smile. “Let’s see it.”

He slowly lowered his black hood.

Kitty’s eyes widened and then narrowed into a delighted grin. “Oh. My. You look . . . delicious.”

Gareth’s eyebrow arched and he shifted his gaze to the few hors d’oeuvres left on the plate.

“You like it?” he asked, as if Kitty’s response wasn’t clear.

Kitty paused as her eyes darted around his head. “Very much. I need to touch it.” With drink in hand, she scooted around the booth, his scent getting stronger, until she was less than an inch from him. Gareth sat frozen as she stroked his hair, a few strands shifting under her fingertips and tickling her palm.

“Do you have the numbers?” he persisted.

Kitty smirked and reached for her purse to pull out a folded piece of paper.

Gareth smoothed it out on the table. He scanned the tidy chart as surprise spread across his face. “This is very good,” he said turning to Kitty, a distinct lightness in his voice.

“Thank you.”

Gareth folded the paper and handed it back.

“I spent a week putting this together, you barely looked at it.”

“I wanted to make sure your numbers lined up with mine. You do realize what you’re getting into here. This is going to be a lot of work.”