First Flight

Thank you: To my mother, for a love of all things corvid; my father, who always told me I could do anything (except dress badly); Chris C. for her invaluable advice regarding emergency dispatch procedures; and especially to Michelle and Reesa, for encouraging me, even when they should know better.

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Chapter One THE music really couldn‟t go any louder, mostly because the crappy little speakers in the doors would start cutting out. Jesse Swanson flicked the knob anyhow, just a bit, pushing the sound system to its limit and reveling in the angry clashing-thrashing sound of the music. What the hell was Kevin‟s problem, anyhow? Edie and Lucas had invited both of them to go to the movies, and Kevin had said no. And then he‟d gotten pissed off because Jesse had gone without him. Jesse shouted along to the song, as loud as he could, keeping an eye on his speed as he steered his car down the unplowed length of Collins Road. It was mostly wet and sloppy, but slush turned to ice on the edges, and he didn‟t want to go into the ditch. The music trailed off into something that sounded like metal garbage cans being thrown down concrete stairs, and his hand flashed out to skip to the next screamy track. A quarter of a mile ahead, an old oak tree stood at the side of the road, its dark branches wide against the sky. Jesse decided to just drive, now; to yell along with his music and get his annoyance out of his system before he went home. If it had been warmer, or if the sky had been less threatening, he would have stopped to bask in the isolation of the area while his music poured over him. Something dark lay on the side of the road, just the other side of the tree. As he got closer, Jesse realized that it wasn‟t the garbage bag he‟d assumed it was. No, it was a

First Flight | Connor Wright 4 dead bird, lying on the shoulder. The sight of it pulled him out of his little bubble of indignation; feeling strangely sorry for it, he turned the music off as he pulled over. He picked his way through the slush to the bird. It was a raven, lying on its back with its eyes closed and its feet curled tightly on nothing. Maybe someone had hit it—a halfdozen pigeons usually met the same fate every summer. Jesse returned to his car and dug around in the space under the hatchback, finally finding his gloves under an old towel burned through in places by spilled bleach. He gingerly put his hands on either side of the slightly outspread wings and scooped it up, frowning as its head lolled. It seemed both strangely heavy and strangely light at once, and he wondered briefly if it was the fact that it was dead that made it heavy. Then he shook his head and dismissed the thought, gently placing the bird on the towel. It was impulse, really—probably something left over from when the raven‟s ancestors used to eat his own—but Jesse folded the towel over the dark form before dropping his gloves and closing the hatch. Ten minutes later, squinting through late-spring sleet and wondering what he was going to do with the bird once he got home, Jesse heard an odd sound. Kind of a shuffling noise, and then a kind of patting, like someone feeling around in the back. As he came to a stop at a red light, he glanced into his rearview mirror, just to see what he could see— He was… cold. Warm and cold, both at once, but mostly cold. And moving, without wanting to move. He opened his eyes. The world was stranger than he’d expected it to be; the colors were different and the scents were all wrong.

First Flight | Connor Wright 5 Something inside him got his body moving; he shoved himself upright, turning his head this way and that. The cold, boxy metal things were all around him, and he was inside one! Had he been eaten? He recognized the sound of a man, ahead of him, and tried to speak. “Keh,” he said. “What the hell?” Jesse turned around in his seat, staring at the head and shoulders he could see. Dark hair, wet and sticking to his forehead, skin so pale it was almost blue, dark eyes. “Who the hell are you and how did you get into my car?” The words didn‟t mean anything to him, but he tried to respond anyhow. Some little thing inside him, voice or sensation or a combination of the two, told him that it was important. Very important. “Uh.” The young man blinked, opening and closing his mouth a few times as if he wasn‟t sure how it worked. “Who are you? What‟s your name? Do you—damn.” Jesse settled back into the driver‟s seat as people honked at him. He turned in at the first parking lot he came to, pulled across two spots, and nearly fell out of his car in his haste to get around to the back. When the cover over him rose, he got his first close look at the man. The voice (it had a whispery quality to it) said: Yes. This is the right one. Maybe the man could explain, could tell him the right what. With this hope in mind, he looked up into the man‟s face. Jesse was ready for a lot of things: apologies, lies, even laughter and an explanation of some kind of weird prank. He was not at all ready for the look the guy gave him, a look that clearly said I am possibly more helpless than a newborn opossum. Once he was past that, however, the guy was

First Flight | Connor Wright 6 naked, wet, and shivering, the old towel draped across his lap. The towel reminded Jesse that there had been a dead bird in the back; was the guy sitting on it? “What happened to”—to hell with the stupid bird—”you? Are you all right? What‟s your name? Why are you wet and naked, and more importantly, why are you wet and naked and in my car?” Not that Jesse objected, generally speaking, to guys being naked around him. Or wet. Or wet and naked; however, he preferred to get to know them beforehand. Besides, the guy was in his car without so much as an “excuse me,” which was the pimento olive on top of a very weird sundae. He remained silent, just absorbing the sound of the man‟s voice. “Okay. Uh.... ¿Usted habla español? And that‟s about all the Spanish I know, sorry.” After another minute of being stared at like there was nothing else to see, Jesse sighed. “Here,” he said, taking off his jacket and offering it to the guy, “at least you‟ll be a little warmer.” The thing that was offered to him was warm. It smelled good, too, and he pressed it to his face, trying to sort out and memorize the notes that made up its scent. The smell made him want something, but he didn‟t know what it was. “Uh, don‟t—well, I guess it would have gotten wet anyhow, but….” Jesse tugged at his jacket, mildly surprised when the guy let go of it. “Here, like this.” He draped it around the other young man‟s shoulders, carefully keeping his eyes on the fabric as he fastened the middle three snaps. “There. That‟s better, right?” No answer but that same constant gaze. “Okay, you know what? I think we should go see a doctor or something, make sure you‟re really okay. So, um,

First Flight | Connor Wright 7 you just stay right there and we‟ll do that,” Jesse said, then sighed as the guy tilted his head. “Watch your head.”

THE next morning, the two of them sat at the dining table: Jesse with coffee and toast, the guy with a bowl of cereal. “Since the doctor said you‟re basically okay, and Mom and Dad said you can stay here, and you didn‟t mind me deciding that you needed to be Christopher Valentine Swanson instead of John Doe, I‟ll talk to Betsy and Tanner while I‟m at the store today,” Jesse said, between bites. “It‟ll have to be an under-the-table deal, because you don‟t have any ID or anything, but as long as you‟re working, Dad‟ll be happy.” Chris nodded, but his eyes were on the sunlight that fell on his spoon. The cereal that Jesse had fixed for him had long since absorbed all the milk, and he hadn‟t even tasted it. “Are you, uh, not hungry?” Jesse pointed at the bowl. “Or do you not like cereal?” Chris considered it, then stuck a finger in and scooped up some of the resulting mush. It didn‟t look very tasty, but his little voice reminded him that he liked things that didn‟t look as if they‟d taste good. He stuck his finger into his mouth, nodding at the sweetness that spread across his tongue, then pulled the bowl closer and helped himself to more. “Uh, Chris?” Jesse was looking at him. “Use the spoon, not your hand, okay?” Spoon.

He

looked

at

the

metal

thing

he

held,

First Flight | Connor Wright 8 remembering last night‟s instruction on using a fork. Wondering what would happen if he tried repeating the sounds—they seemed easy enough—he gave it a try. “Sssp— sspoon,” he said, his voice raspy. “Oh hey! You said spoon!” Jesse‟s face stretched, the man showing his teeth the way he did when it seemed he was pleased about something. Chris nodded again, thinking about the sounds that the other man used to refer to himself. “J-Jesssssee.” “Awesome,” Jesse said, ignoring the strange feeling that hearing his name had kindled. “I‟m Jesse, that‟s a spoon, and you are?” He pointed at the other young man. “C-Chriss?” “That‟s right, and this is excellent,” Jesse said, then frowned as his phone beeped at him. He got up and took his dishes to the sink. “I gotta get out of here, Chris, but I‟ll be back for lunch, okay? Eat your breakfast, don‟t burn down the house, and I‟ll see you in a little while.” Chris nodded and picked up more of the sweet goo with the spoon, the admonition lost on him. “Okay.” Once Jesse was gone, Chris abandoned the cereal in favor of opening the refrigerator. There were all sorts of intriguing boxes and bottles and other packages inside, and he wanted to know what was in each of them. The first thing that caught his eye was a white container with black scribbles on top. The scribbles didn‟t matter, because the little voice reminded him that the shape of the container meant food. He pulled it open and was delighted to discover that it held—well, he wasn‟t entirely sure what it was, other than brown and green lumps, with a pile of white grainy stuff that had smaller, fuzzier green lumps on it.

First Flight | Connor Wright 9 He sat right down on the floor and happily, messily, began to eat. As he was licking his fingers clean, Chris noticed a box on the lowest shelf with a picture of something he didn‟t recognize on it. He knew what the thing beside it was: a nest. In the nest were eggs, and the thought of eggs made him feel strange: excited, hungry, the faintest hint of worried. Hunger and excitement won out, though, and he pulled the box into his lap. The top came open easily, and he stared. Eggs. Lots of eggs. More eggs than he‟d ever seen in his whole life, as far as he knew. Chris picked one out and held it up, suddenly realizing that he didn‟t know how to get them open. He needed help. He needed a tool. He needed… a spoon. Spoon retrieved, Chris broke the top of the egg and tipped the contents into his mouth. Cold and thick and the rich oiliness of the yolk—oh, it was even better than finding the whatever it was in the white container. Speaking of which, Chris looked back and forth between the eggs and the remaining stuff in the container, then picked up a second egg, broke the top, and poured it onto the green and brown stuff. He added another egg, then stirred everything together with the spoon. It was delicious. When he‟d finished off the brown and green and white stuff, he focused solely on the eggs. He had eggs, Jesse had been happy that he‟d spoken, Jesse would come back, and all was more than well in his world.

“CHRIS? I‟m home!” The house felt empty. Well, Chris might have gone out for a walk, since no one had told him not to leave the house. On the other hand, he might have decided

First Flight | Connor Wright 10 to take a nap or a bath or something. Jesse trotted up the stairs and discovered that Chris was nowhere to be found: not in Jesse‟s nor his parents‟ room and definitely not in either cold, dark bathroom. Downstairs again, he checked the living and dining rooms for a note, finding nothing but Chris‟s cereal. After thinking about it, he realized he had no idea if Chris could read or write, so looking for a note was really sort of silly. He glanced into the kitchen and forgot about notes. “What the hell?” Jesse threw away the half-dozen eggshells and the empty box from the leftover Chinese his dad had brought home, what, almost two weeks ago, now? He couldn‟t remember. Then he put what was left of the eggs back in the fridge, shaking his head. Now he really wanted to find Chris, because that was entirely too bizarre. As he walked back into the dining room to get the bowl, he realized that the curtain over the back door was moving in the breeze. He stuck his head out and looked around. “Chris?” The guy was hunched up in the corner formed by the house and the railing of the porch. “Jesse.” Jesse was back. Maybe he could fix it, fix the horrible way he felt. Jesse looked around the porch and noticed that there was a large puddle of something not too far from Chris. “Oh my God, you did eat the leftovers.” Chris opened his eyes, peering through hair made stringy with sweat. Jesse was standing there and shaking his head, but Chris was too miserable to care. His body hurt, his stomach had been trying to turn itself inside out, and he was pretty sure that he was going to die.

First Flight | Connor Wright 11 “Let‟s get you in the house, okay? And we need to get you some water, too. I wonder if you‟ve got salmonella. Mom might know, but she‟s at work.” Jesse moved toward Chris, who lurched forward onto his hands and knees, his body curling up tight as he was wracked with dry heaves. Yes, Chris decided, death would be a mercy. It would be so much better than this deep, wrenching pain that came with bitter slime at the back of his throat. He coughed and curled up, hoping that Jesse would come over and kill him. “Come on,” Jesse said, leaning down and getting hold of his arm. “You need to come inside now, okay?” Chris was shivering, whether from reaction, fever, or just the breeze over his sweat-soaked clothes, Jesse didn‟t know. His eyes mostly closed, aching and miserable, Chris stumbled along beside the other young man as they made their way upstairs. “I‟m not trying to make you feel bad, but you really need a shower,” Jesse said, coming to a halt in front of the door to the upstairs bathroom. The sour smell of vomit made him wrinkle his nose as he turned on the light. “It‟ll help you feel better, too.” “Okay.” Shower. The thing in the big trough that was like rain without clouds or wind. Jesse started the water, then turned and helped Chris out of his soggy pajamas. “All right. I‟m going to go get a glass, a towel, some dry PJs, stuff like that. I‟ll be back as soon as I can. You get clean and warmed up.” “Mm.” The hot water felt good running over his skin, helping to ease the knots in his belly and to take the chill off. He stayed under the spray until Jesse reached in and took his arm, helping him out to stand dripping on the bath mat.

First Flight | Connor Wright 12 Once he was mostly dry and in clean pajamas, he curled up in his cot and fell into an exhausted sleep. Chris woke in the dimness of Jesse‟s room. “Jesse?” “Hey.” Jesse‟s voice came from somewhere behind him. He turned over, teeth clenched tightly together. Other than another wave of cramps, he seemed to be all right. “Are you feeling better?” “Okay.” Jesse was sitting in the chair in front of the flat panel that glowed in the dark. He could see a picture of a man on it, parts of the man covered up by boxes, one of which began to blink as he looked. “Good, glad to hear it,” Jesse said. “You should drink some more water.” Water. Yes, that sounded very good. His mouth was sticky and dry, his throat raw. “Water,” Chris said. He sat up slowly, then looked around. “Water?” “Oh, crap, I took your glass downstairs. Hang on and I‟ll go get you some, okay?” “Okay.” Chris watched him go, then looked at the flat panel again. The blinking box was covered up by another one, and then another, and then nothing more. He looked at the man instead, wondering if he was alive, and if so why he was on (or in) the panel. Then he wondered if he was important, important to Jesse. The thought of him being important to Jesse made him feel strange, but in a different way than the eggs had. “Here we go,” Jesse said, coming in. “I would have been back sooner but Mom made some soup and brought home some more crackers, so she made me bring up enough for an army.” He carried a tray with a couple of bowls, a square white thing, and a couple of glasses of water on it. “Well,

First Flight | Connor Wright 13 enough for us, anyhow. Here. Careful, it‟s hot.” Chris took the bowl that Jesse offered him, setting it on his knees. “Spoon?” “Yeah, here you go.” Jesse handed over a spoon and a piece of paper towel. “Here‟s the water, too.” “Water.” It tasted good, better by far than the eggs. He drained the glass, then held it out, gasping as he did. “Slow down,” Jesse said, taking the glass back. “You‟ll make yourself sick again, and you don‟t want that.” “Water,” Chris said, plaintively, then burped. What had that been? Jesse smothered his laughter at the look on Chris‟s face. “I‟ll be right back.” He stirred the soup, then lifted a spoonful and blew across it as Leanna had demonstrated at dinner. It was warm, salty, and tasted almost as good as the water had. Chris was careful to use the spoon, but it seemed terribly inefficient. Jesse came back with two glasses of water, and the two of them spent the next few minutes eating. Chris finally gave up on the spoon and picked up the bowl and sipped from it, though he turned away from Jesse as he did. “It‟s okay to drink soup like that,” Jesse said, leaning over and bumping his hand against Chris‟s shoulder. “Just don‟t use your fingers. Here.” Chris turned back and took the crackers that Jesse held. “Okay.” Jesse glanced at the panel, grumbling and sighing. He touched the rounded block that made clicking sounds, then pulled the long flat thing with buttons on it toward himself.

First Flight | Connor Wright 14 “Didn‟t have to be a bastard about it,” he mumbled. “Okay?” Chris scooped up noodles with half of a cracker. “Yeah, more or less,” Jesse said, but Chris didn‟t like the sound of his voice. “Oh, hey. I talked to Betsy and Tanner, today. They both said they‟d be thrilled if you‟d like to come work in produce, but they don‟t wanna do an underthe-table thing. We‟re gonna have to figure out how to get you some ID, which will probably take a couple of weeks.” “Oh.” Chris ate some more noodles, watching Jesse as he poked at the flat thing with buttons with one hand and stirred his soup with the other. “Okay.” “The other thing is….” Jesse turned away from his desk and looked at Chris for a few moments. “The other thing is, you kind of need some more vocabulary. „Okay‟ is good, but you‟re gonna need to know things like „potato‟ and „mango‟ and „please‟ and „thank you‟ and „right this way.‟ And I‟m kind of worried about you eating stuff that you shouldn‟t, like Dad‟s leftovers. Why‟d you eat them, anyhow? Weren‟t they moldy?” Chris just shook his head and finished his soup. “Okay.” “Yeah, that‟s what I thought you‟d say,” Jesse said, smiling a little. “Don‟t worry about it, okay? Do you want some more soup?” “Okay.”

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Chapter Two “THERE he is,” Jesse said, waving at someone in a hooded sweatshirt. “Hey.” “Hi,” Kevin said, glancing at the guy beside Jesse. “Who‟s this?” “Kev, this is Chris. Chris, this is my good friend, Kevin Woods. Chris is staying at our house for a while.” Jesse waved back and forth between the two of them. “Yeah?” Chris held out his hand and tried a smile, even though he didn‟t think he liked Kevin. The little voice inside him was silent, but even the silence seemed disapproving. “Hi.” “You‟re pretty short,” Kevin said, keeping his hands nestled in his pockets. “I guess so,” Chris said, keeping his hand out. Jesse had said he was kind of short, earlier, when they were buying clothes. In his mouth, it had sounded like nothing special; in Kevin‟s, it sounded like something was wrong with him. “Kev, come on. Be nice.” Jesse shifted over and nudged him with an elbow. Kevin finally reached out and shook Chris‟s hand, briefly and limply. “So why‟re you staying at Jesse‟s?” “Because Jesse—” “It‟s kind of an exchange-student thing,” Jesse said, glad to hear his explanation sounded smoother than he

First Flight | Connor Wright 16 thought it would. “Exchange student? Oh, is this that guy you said you had to keep an eye on ‟cause he was sick instead of coming over and watching a movie with me?” “He had food poisoning,” Jesse said, rolling his eyes at Kevin‟s offended tone. “He was seriously sick and my parents were at work.” Kevin shrugged at Jesse‟s words, but all he said was, “So where‟re you from, Chris?” “He‟s from Manitoba,” Jesse said, picking the first place he thought of. “Winnipeg.” “Huh.” Kevin gave Jesse a funny look, then turned his attention on Chris again. “You don‟t have much of an accent.” “I‟m sorry,” Chris said, looking at Jesse. Maybe he‟d know where he could get an accent, whatever that was. “I‟m not that disappointed,” Kevin said with another shrug. “C‟mon, the movie‟s gonna start soon.”

CHRIS took a deep breath as he followed Jesse through the doors into the back of the store. The smells out front were always fascinating, but they changed beyond the doors, into something altogether different. There was the scent of earth, of things that were food and things that were past being food, scents that made the little voice whisper about gathering and saving for later. “Jesse?” “What?” He glanced over his shoulder. “Jesse, the smells….” Chris inhaled again, closing his eyes. “They‟re like the store, but more.”

First Flight | Connor Wright 17 “Yeah, I know, it smells kind of like stuff going bad back here,” Jesse said, waving at the boxes of fruit and vegetables that sat off to their left. “Come on, the breakroom is this way.” “Okay,” Chris said, following him once more. Going bad wasn‟t what he meant, but he didn‟t quite know how to tell Jesse about the little voice or the things it suggested. “This is the breakroom, and you can put your stuff in my locker for now, okay? The employee bathrooms are right over there, through the door helpfully marked by the really obvious sign.” Jesse pointed across the room. “Once we ditch our stuff, we‟ll find you an apron, and then you and Betsy can get on with your day.” Betsy. Chris remembered her from one of the previous trips he‟d taken to the store with Jesse—a round woman just about the same height as himself. She‟d seemed kind of rough, but she‟d shaken his hand, smiled at him, and hadn‟t said anything about him being short. “All right. I will work in produce, which is fruit and vegetables, yes?” “Right,” Jesse said, sliding the key into his lock and opening it with a metallic pop. “And I‟ll be up front, at the checkout. I‟m usually on lucky number eight, if you need anything.” He traded his jacket for his apron, then put his lunchbox on the shelf. “Okay.” Chris put his jacket on the other hook, then watched as Jesse made sure he had his keys, closed and locked the locker, then put his apron on. “You look important.” “Important? I guess so,” Jesse said, looking down at himself. “I‟m just a cashier, though. If you want someone important, you want Betsy or Tanner. Anyway, the aprons

First Flight | Connor Wright 18 are over here.” Ten minutes later, Jesse handed him off to Betsy. “All right, Christopher, just make sure that all the fruit and veggies look okay, toss out any that fall on the floor, and just make sure everything stays nice and tidy, okay?” Chris nodded at her. “Okay.” “Great. If you have any problems or questions, just ask me, okay?” “Okay,” Chris said, nodding again. The day was not okay. He had no problems with the produce, other than getting strange looks when he took the “bad” things into the back and put them aside… but the people who came into the store! There was the woman who wanted strawberries, and when he led her this way and that through the bins and displays, she‟d called him a dummy. Then there was the man with the two small children who shouted and ran and threw grapes at one another; and the other man who complained about the broccoli; and the woman who was disappointed in his lack of conversation on the topic of cantaloupes. By the time he was free for lunch, he was more than ready to go back to Jesse‟s room and stay there. “Hey, Chris,” Jesse said, sitting down beside him. “How was your morning?” Chris shook strawberry.

his

head

and

ate

another

bruised

“That good, huh?” Jesse unwrapped his sandwich and took a bite. “Well, you can go home whenever you‟re ready, so that‟s okay. I‟ll be home about four thirty.”

First Flight | Connor Wright 19 “Okay.” And that was life, for the newly expanded Swanson family. Jesse and Chris went off to Meyer‟s Market, where Chris puzzled and unnerved patrons and staff alike. They ate lunch together, Chris went home after, and Jesse followed in the late afternoon. Between times, Jesse took him all over: to the movies, out with friends, and sometimes just out on long aimless drives with the windows down and the music up. For three months, everything was almost perfectly normal.

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Chapter Three “SO WHAT‟S the real story behind Shorty?” Kevin‟s voice was sharp. “„Real story?‟ There is no „real story‟. And his name is Chris.” Jesse shrugged and wondered where the conversation was headed. He rubbed his thumb across the back of his phone and wandered toward his bedroom window. “Yeah. Right.” “There isn‟t!” “Sure. Except for the one where you‟re mackin‟ on him, right?” “„Mackin‟ on him‟?” Jesse laughed and shook his head. “I haven‟t heard that in years.” “But you didn‟t say you weren’t.” “Because I was busy being distracted by that word,” Jesse said, rolling his eyes. “And no, I‟m not doing anything with Chris except hanging out with him and going to work and stuff.” “Stuff? Stuff could be anything.” “I just meant, y‟know, going to the movies and driving around and watching TV and, I dunno, stuff. You know, like a friend?” He rolled his eyes again and turned away from the window. Trust Kevin to try to make being friends with someone into a felony. “A boyfriend?”

First Flight | Connor Wright 21 “What is wrong with you? I‟m not going out with Chris! You are my boyfriend. I‟ve never cheated on anyone before and I‟m not going to start now.” “You‟re sure?” “Yes!” He sighed and checked his watch. “Look, how about if I come over and show you everything I‟m not doing with Chris?” “Well….” “Just you and me, all alone.” It had been a while since they‟d spent any time alone, so Jesse was pretty sure it‟d be the perfect step toward reconciliation. And if not, at least they‟d both get something out of it. “Okay. Yeah, okay, twenty minutes?” “Thirty. I need to make a stop first.” “A stop? For what?” The suspicion in Kevin‟s voice was beginning to get on his nerves, but he pushed the irritation away. “For a couple of things that‟ll make our evening a lot more fun. And slippery.” “Oh yeah? Okay, then. See you in thirty.” “Yeah. Bye.” Jesse grabbed his jacket, then went thumping down the stairs to find his parents. His mother was in the living room, listening to a basketball game and reading something. “Hey, Mom,” he said, pulling his jacket on as he leaned over the back of the couch. “I‟m gonna go hang out with Kevin for a while.” “Okay. Drive carefully,” Leanna said, then stretched up and kissed him on the cheek. “I will. Where‟s Chris?” He kissed her back and

First Flight | Connor Wright 22 straightened up. “He and your dad are cleaning up the grill so we can have steaks tomorrow night,” she said. “Are you taking him with you?” “Uh, no. This is, um, you know. Kind of a solo thing for me.” “Ah.” She tilted her head back and looked at him. “Is everything okay? And what do you want me to tell Chris, when he asks?” “Yeah! Yeah, everything‟s fine.” Mostly, anyhow. “Just tell him I went over to a friend‟s house. Since it‟s my thing, I‟ve gotta be the one to tell him. And I will, I swear, just not tonight.” Jesse kissed the top of her head and turned around, as if he could outrun his cowardice. “I gotta get going. See you later.” “Okay, then,” Leanna said, but she didn‟t push it. “You‟re a grown-up. Just be careful.” “Yeah. Love you.” “Love you, too.”

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Chapter Four A COUPLE of weeks later, Jesse was idly browsing one of his favorite music sites before bed, when his phone rang. He pressed the accept key, cutting off the ringtone he‟d set for Kevin. “Hey, what‟s up?” “Hey. I was thinking that maybe we could go out tomorrow night.” “Tomorrow night? Sorry, Chris and I are gonna—” “Chris? You and Chris? “Yeah, Chris and I are—” “You‟re what? Screwing?” “No! God, will you let me finish my sentence?” “Fine. Finish.” “Chris and I are going out to dinner—” “I knew it!” “With my parents. My mom and dad, remember them? Leanna and Desmond?” “Yeah, but that doesn‟t mean you‟re not screwing Chris.” “Kev, I‟ve told you—” “Yeah, but just because you tell me doesn‟t mean anything! You could be lying to me!” “Sure, I could, but I‟m not. Kevin, you‟re the only—” “I‟m the only one you‟re cheating on?” “No. You‟re the only—”

First Flight | Connor Wright 24 Behind Jesse, Chris blinked, then closed his eyes as he tried to figure out why he was awake. “I‟m not the only one you‟re cheating on?” “Kevin. Kevin, listen to me. Chris doesn‟t even know.” Oh, that was why: Jesse was talking. He turned over, away from Jesse, wondering what he didn‟t know. There were so many things it could be, after all. He tried to go back to sleep, but Jesse shifted in his chair and sighed again. “He doesn‟t know you‟re my boyfriend? Or he doesn‟t know you‟re cheating on him?” Jesse took a moment to rub his face, trying to wrap his mind around the raging paranoia in every word of Kevin‟s questions. Something snapped then, something that had been growing more and more brittle over the last two months. “Look, I can‟t keep doing this. I‟m tired of it, okay? I‟m tired of you asking me about Chris every time we talk. I‟m tired of you not listening to me, and I‟m tired of you not—” “You‟re tired of lying? Cheating? Maybe we should fucking break up.” “Yeah, we should,” Jesse snarled, anger drowning hurt. Kevin asked about him? Why should he? How strange. Chris gave up on sleep but stayed on his side, facing Jesse‟s bed. “You‟d like that, wouldn‟t you? You‟d love to be free to screw whoever you want.” “I‟m done. We are done. Delete me from your phone and from everything. Unfriend me, block me, whatever, I don‟t give a flying fuck, okay? Because I plan on doing exactly the same thing to you. I don‟t want to see you again.” And that

First Flight | Connor Wright 25 was it. His thumb slid over, pressed down, breaking the last tenuous thread between the two of them. Chris jumped a little at the crash as Jesse slapped something—his phone, probably—onto the desk. There was a new strange sound in the darkness afterward, like Jesse couldn‟t breathe. It was a bad sound, one that Chris wanted to make stop, but he had no idea how he might. He could at least try, though. Pretending to wake up, he turned over onto his back. “Um, Jesse?” “Fuck,” Jesse said, his voice thick. “Sorry, Chris, I didn‟t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.” Chris. He couldn‟t believe he‟d ever introduced Chris to Kevin, then he wondered how much Chris had heard. The odd sound of Jesse‟s voice did nothing to convince him. “Are you okay?” “Yeah, sure. I just dropped my phone.” Jesse turned toward the computer and began clicking on things, his voice returning to normal. “Like I said, I didn‟t mean to wake you up.” Facebook first, then everything else. “You are angry?” “No, just a klutz.” Jesse hoped Chris wouldn‟t realize that he was faking his cheerful tone as he opened a halfdozen tabs. “Seriously, it‟s cool. Get some sleep or you‟ll be cranky in the morning.” Under the jostling shards of his pain, disbelief, and hot anger was a slowly uncoiling knot of cool relief. “All right.” Chris knew Jesse was not being truthful, but he wasn‟t sure if he should say so. Instead, he just turned over, watching Jesse‟s back as he did whatever it was he was doing.

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“OKAY, Jesse,” Ellen said as Chris came into the breakroom, “it‟s been two weeks. Time for you to go dancing with us.” “Well….” Jesse waved his sandwich. “I don‟t know.” “Come on,” she said, flashing a grin at Chris. “Chris is going. Aren‟t you, Chris?” “I like dancing,” Chris said, as he retrieved his lunch from his locker. There was something familiar about dancing but what exactly eluded him. “When are you going?” “Tomorrow night. Edie and Lucas are all thrilled about their anniversary, so they want to start the night where they met, at Club Le Monde.” Ellen leaned across the table and poked at the back of Jesse‟s hand. “You don‟t even have to dance, if you don‟t want to. Come on, come with us! You know you want to.” “Are you going, Chris?” Jesse took a bite of his sandwich. “I‟d like to,” Chris said, finding his fork at the bottom of his lunchbox. “Then I‟ll go, too,” Jesse said. He carefully took another bite of his sandwich and watched closely as Chris set about digging into the chunk of leftover meatloaf he‟d brought. Doing so allowed him to ignore both the fact that he liked to watch Chris dance and that he did not like the idea of letting Chris go off to the club by himself. “Good!” Ellen bounced in her chair and stretched over, this time to pat Jesse‟s shoulder. “A breakup isn‟t the end of the world, you know?”

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CHRIS followed Jesse through the crowd, puzzled by the way he was acting. Everything about him seemed off, somehow. While Chris hadn‟t intended to follow Jesse through the door with the little man-picture on it, the people behind him had other ideas. They swept him right into the chilly echoing space, right up against two warm bodies ignoring everything except one another, their mouths touching. Right up against— “Jesse? What are you doing?” Jesse turned his head, fast enough to send pins-andneedles down the side of his neck. “Um. Hi, Chris.” The guy against the wall glared at Chris. “What the hell? This your boyfriend? I don‟t do threesomes.” Boyfriend? “No,” Chris said. “Fuck, never mind. Sorry.” Jesse pushed himself away, grabbed Chris‟s wrist, and shoved his way back out into the hallway. “C‟mon.” He dragged Chris through the club and out into the parking lot. “Jesse….” Chris tried to pick a question out of the dozen or so that were bouncing around his head. His little voice was of no help. It was pleased by this development, but that was all the information it offered. “I‟m sorry, okay?” He crossed his arms and stared at the ground. “I—screw it. You can go back inside if you want. I‟m just gonna go home, okay? Ellen‟s the driver tonight, so you don‟t have to worry about getting home.” “Jesse, tell me why. He said boyfriend. You are a man; you have a girlfriend, right?” Chris had seen it, over and over again, in movies and TV shows and wherever they went in

First Flight | Connor Wright 28 town. Men and women, together. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Then he realized that he‟d never seen Jesse with any women, aside from his mother and the women he was friends with. Well, not every man had a girlfriend. He didn‟t, after all. “He thought you might be my boyfriend. And no, I don‟t have a girlfriend,” Jesse said, looking up but not at Chris. He took a breath. “Because I‟m gay. Means I like guys instead. And I should have told you sooner, but I wasn‟t thinking and… anyhow, I‟m sorry, and I should just go. Are you gonna stay with Ellen and everybody?” “You like guys instead,” Chris said slowly. Instead of what, he wasn‟t sure, so he did what he always did. “Instead of… what? Eggs?” “Eggs?” Jesse stared at him for a few seconds, then shook his head and made an amused sound. “You‟ve got eggs on the brain, you know that? No. Instead of, instead of women. I‟m not interested in kissing women, or getting married to a woman, or going on dates with women. But guys, yeah.” “That‟s because eggs are best,” he said, nodding at Jesse. “Oh. Why are you going home?” “You always say that.” Jesse shrugged and waved at the building behind Chris. “Because I didn‟t really want to come out here anyhow, but I thought maybe I‟d change my mind once I got here, and that guy probably wouldn‟t be too thrilled to see me again. Are you gonna stay?” “It‟s true.” Chris put his hands in his pockets and walked toward Jesse‟s car. “No, I will go. I like to dance, but I want to think, now.” “Yeah, me too. We‟ll take the long way home, okay?” “Okay.”

First Flight | Connor Wright 29 Chris thought, as Jesse turned the car in the opposite direction of home. Jesse wanted a man. It was a fascinating idea, and he turned it over and over, like a spoon in sunlight. The farther they drove, the more he thought, the more certain he became: Christopher Valentine Swanson would become Jesse Noel Swanson‟s boyfriend. It was right, like the way eggs were right or the way going to bed when the sun went down was right. Jesse‟s thoughts ran along a different line, ranging over what he‟d seen in Kevin in the first place and not quite acknowledging that he‟d agreed to meet the guy at the club because he‟d reminded him of someone, someone he wasn‟t entirely sure he should be thinking of like that.

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Chapter Five The first day: “G‟MORNING,” Jesse said, shuffling into the kitchen. “Good morning,” Chris said, “I made you breakfast.” Jesse blinked. Toast, coffee, cereal, and…. “Eggs,” he said. They were hard-boiled. Not his favorite breakfast item, but reasonable given Chris‟s current culinary skills. “Yes. Cooked.” “Yeah.” Jesse sat down and picked up a piece of toast. “Thanks. This is, uh, nice.” “You are welcome. I made your lunch,” Chris said, holding up the plastic bag in which he‟d placed it. “My lunch?” Jesse frowned over his coffee cup. “Okay, thanks.” “Yes.” The second day:

JESSE frowned at the little piece of paper on the bottom of his locker. Someone must have slipped it through the vents, which was odd. His co-workers usually used sticky notes. Unfolding it revealed familiar handwriting. jesse -

First Flight | Connor Wright 31 hope u have a good day! —k He threw it away and went on with his day. The third day:

CHRIS opened his eyes as the morning‟s first light edged around the blinds in Jesse‟s room. He could hear Leanna and Desmond moving around, Jesse‟s breathing, and a single bird somewhere in the yard. He slipped out from under his blanket and straightened his bedding, then padded out to start his routine. As Chris washed his face, he thought about breakfast. Coffee was a given, as were eggs; perhaps cinnamon toast? For lunch he would make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Today would be different. Today, he would put the first gift beside Jesse‟s cup. The fourth day:

SOMEONE had left a business card under his wiper. Grumbling, Jesse pulled it free and looked at it, intending to call and complain—except that it wasn‟t for a business. jesse— just a note to say hi! —k “Give it up, seriously,” Jesse said, rolling his eyes and

First Flight | Connor Wright 32 stuffing the card into his pocket. The fifth day:

JESSE sat down at the table, eyes half-open, seeing nothing more than eggs (of course) and toast and coffee (thank God, coffee) and a bottle cap and a glass of orange juice— Bottle cap? He picked it up. Just a Bud Light bottle cap, bent and a little scratched, a little shiny. Come to think of it, there had been one of those annoying knockouts beside his breakfast the other morning, looking like a quarter. He‟d taken it upstairs and had almost put it in his pocket before he realized that it wasn‟t money. The sixth day:

REBA MCENTIRE‟S voice was interrupted by a bright, “Hi!” “Hi, Kevin. Why are you leaving me notes?” “Because it‟s nice to leave friendly notes for people. Didn‟t you tell me your mom used to put notes in your lunchbox when you were a kid?” “Well, yeah, but she‟s my mom and we‟re not going out, Kevin. Could you, y‟know, stop?” Jesse rubbed the side of his face with his free hand. “I‟m your boyfriend,” Kevin said. “I can leave you notes if I want to.” “Um….” Jesse looked around the parking lot, but everything seemed normal. “I‟m sorry, what?” “I can leave notes for my boyfriend if I want to.”

First Flight | Connor Wright 33 “Except for the part where I broke up with you,” Jesse said. “I never agreed to it,” Kevin said, sounding puzzled. “Uh…. You know what? I have to go. Bye.” He hung up and got into his car, staring at a tree across the street for a few minutes. Jesse couldn‟t decide how he felt, and in the end he gave up and headed home. The seventh day: “GOOD morning, Christopher,” Leanna said, with a smile. “Good morning,” he said, tilting his head. “Can you please show me another way to cook eggs?” “Sure.” She moved toward the fridge. “How about scrambled? They‟re pretty easy, and a lot faster than boiling.” “Scrambled,” Chris said, opening the cabinet where the pans were kept. “All right. Which pan?” “Grab the smaller skillet, okay? Good. Let‟s see. Eggs, a little milk, the pepper‟s over there. Okay.” Leanna carried the eggs and the milk over to the counter and retrieved a bowl. “Okay, so you start with some eggs. Are you going to share with Jesse?” “Yes. It‟s good to share,” he said, solemnly. She raised her eyebrows and gave a little shrug. “Okay, so we‟ll say four eggs to start with.” The eighth day:

First Flight | Connor Wright 34 when ur ready 2 come back 2 me, ill be here —k “Not gonna happen,” Jesse muttered, as he wadded up the note and tossed it into the back seat of his car. The ninth day:

JESSE shuffled into the kitchen, lured by the scent of coffee. Coffee duly obtained, he squinted at the table as he dropped into his usual chair. Eggs, toast, milk and cereal, and someone‟s key. That was strange. “Hey, Chris?” “Yes?” “Did you lose a key?” “No, I have all of my keys. That one is for you.” “Okay.” Well, whatever. Maybe it was just because it was early. The tenth day:

JESSE missed looking forward to getting to his car after work. There was another note, under the wiper blade, and he groaned as he pulled the paper free. every move u make every step u take im watching u—cuz i luv u! —k “What the—” Jesse pulled his phone out and dialed, scowling at the fact that he still knew Kevin‟s number.

First Flight | Connor Wright 35 “Hey, baby.” “I‟m not your baby. And this note? About you watching me? Is really fucking creepy. You‟d better not be watching me.” “You‟re always in my heart, Jesse.” From his grandmother, it would have been sweet; from Kevin, it made him want to take a shower. “I don‟t care! I don‟t want any more notes.” “Why? I love you. Why don‟t you want me to tell you that? It‟s a little disappointing that you‟re so upset by this.” “Disappointing— You— Wow. Okay, just what do you want me to say? You want me to lie to you?” “No. Never, ever lie to me, Jesse. I will find out, and you will be sorry.” Kevin‟s voice was colder than the nasty little north wind that bit at the nape of Jesse‟s neck. “Well, then, you‟d better get used to the truth, Kevin, and the truth is, I broke up with you. Stop leaving me notes.” “Well, if it will make you happy, I‟ll stop for a couple of days. You just need some space, right? Take a couple of days and see how right I am for you. How I‟m your one and only. Take care, Jesse.” He was still spluttering when Kevin ended the call. The fifteenth day:

CHRIS picked through his little collection of interesting things he‟d found on his travels through the city. This morning, it would be…. Ah. One of the discs that looked like a quarter but wasn‟t. He put it in his pocket, then went downstairs to start breakfast.

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The twentieth day:

BAGELS, coffee, juice, eggs, and a Corona bottle cap. Jesse pushed it across the table as he sipped his coffee, trying to decide if he should say something about it. Then Chris sat down, humming over his own food, and the bottle cap was suddenly a lot less important. “Hey, Chris?” “Hm?” “Seriously, thanks. You‟re always making me breakfast, and it‟s just…. Thanks. A lot.”

JESSE grumbled as he caught sight of the piece of paper under his windshield wiper. No matter how many signs the management put up, people couldn‟t be bothered with reading them, which meant one more tree had to die. He grabbed the sheet and yanked, glancing at it before he crumpled it into a ball. Jesse straightened it out again, scowling at the page. jesse – just a little note 2 remind u that im thinking of u :) —k His free hand let go of his keys and wrapped around his cell instead. A few button-presses later and he was listening to the annoying strains of Reba McEntire‟s “Fancy”; Kevin answered halfway through the first line of the chorus.

First Flight | Connor Wright 37 “Hi, Jesse.” “You left another note on my car.” “Aw, you found it!” “It‟s creepy. Could you stop?” “Creepy? How can it be creepy? I just wanted you to know you‟re on my mind.” Jesse took a deep breath. “Kevin. It‟s creepy because we broke up. No longer going out. Exes. Finished. Through. Done. Over.” “I know we‟re just taking a break, because that‟s one of those things that happens,” Kevin said, his voice serious. “When you‟re ready to come back to me, I‟ll be right here.” “Wait, what?” Jesse wadded the note up again, stuffing it into his pocket. “What did you say?” “When you‟re ready to come back to me, I‟ll be right here. Just like I‟ve always been. I‟ve always been there for you, Jesse. You know I have.” “Kevin, I‟m not coming back. I‟ve got to go, Mom wanted me to get some stuff for her and the place closes early on Tuesdays.” Jesse ended the call, then leaned against his car for a minute. His thumb tapped at his phone as he straightened up and he fished his keys out of his pocket with his free hand. “Swanson residence,” Chris said. “Hey. You wanna do something this evening? Maybe see if Edie and Lucas wanna catch a movie?” “All right. Edie said last week that she wanted to see The Boys Of The Maginot Line, which I think is playing at the Big Timber.” “Oh yeah, that‟s right,” Jesse said, smiling a little as

First Flight | Connor Wright 38 something eased inside him. “Awesome. I‟ll give ‟em a call when I get home. See you in a minute.” “Yes. Drive carefully.” “I will.” Three minutes later, Jesse‟s phone rang. “Hello?” “Why did you lie to me, Jesse?” “What? Why the fuck are you calling me?” The tight feeling was back, compounded by a sick twist in his stomach. “You lied to me, Jesse. You‟re going home, not anywhere else. Why? Don‟t you know it hurts both of us when you lie?” “Kevin, I—” Jesse glanced into the mirror. “Why are you following me? Why the fuck are you following me?” “I‟m just looking out for you, Jesse.” “I don‟t need that! I don‟t need you!” “Yes you do, Jesse. You need me like I need you. I‟ll forgive you, this time, but never do it again.” “Don‟t fucking follow me!” Jesse ended the call and headed home. He pulled into the driveway and watched Kevin‟s car pass by, then went inside. The twenty-first day:

CHRIS set out breakfast. Today, it was cinnamon toast, coffee, cereal, no eggs (they were out), muffins from the Market‟s bakery, and a scrap of a Mylar balloon. It was bright green on one side, silver on the other, and each surface was creased where it had gotten wadded up in the bottom of his pocket.

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“WHAT‟S that?” Chris pointed at the fuzzy brown thing on the front porch. “I don‟t know,” Jesse said, putting his car in park and unbuckling his seatbelt. “I‟ll go see.” It was a stuffed bear, about ten inches tall, holding a red satin heart with “I luv u” embroidered on it in white. There was a folded piece of paper tucked between the bear‟s arms, behind the heart, and Jesse‟s stomach went sour as he pulled it free. i know ur sorry for lying to me i 4give u i know we’ll b 2gether again soon “Jesus,” he said, grabbing the bear. He stalked down the path toward the driveway, pausing to shove the toy and the note into the garbage can that sat at the front corner of the garage before returning to his car. “What was it?” Chris said as Jesse dropped into his seat. “Kevin! He‟s completely lost his mind. And why did I never notice that he doesn‟t use real words when he writes?” Not that Jesse really knew why that of all things should bother him. “Do you think we should help him look for his mind? How did he lose it?” The few things that went missing around the Swanson household tended to be keys, socks, and the remotes. “No. No, he lost it when I told him that I didn‟t want to see him anymore. Don‟t worry about it, okay?” Jesse

First Flight | Connor Wright 40 fastened his seatbelt and put his car into reverse again. “Let‟s just go to work.” The twenty-second day:

THERE. Everything was perfectly arranged, just as the water gurgled through the pipes overhead. Breakfast was ready, Jesse was awake, and Chris had found the perfect shiny hex nut for him. The twenty-third day:

JESSE looked into his locker, pinched the bridge of his nose, then bent down and picked up the piece of pink construction paper that had been cut into the shape of a heart. roses r red violets r blu ur my jesse and i luv u —k “A note from a secret admirer?” Betsy said, nodding at the heart. “No. A note from a pest,” Jesse said, wadding it up. He pushed up on his toes and tossed the ball toward the trash can, raising his hands over his head as it went in. “Two points!”

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Chapter Six The twenty-fourth day:

JESSE shook his head. Almost a full month of breakfasts accompanied by little bits of junk and he simply had to know. “Hey, Chris?” “Yes?” “Sit down, okay?” He pointed at the chair next to his own. “I wanna talk to you.” “Okay.” Chris, holding his favorite spoon, went over and sat. “I don‟t get this,” Jesse said, holding up the bottle cap that had been sitting by his favorite coffee cup. “I don‟t collect bottle caps or keys or any of the other stuff. You fix me breakfast, so you have to know where these things are coming from. Can you, y‟know, explain?” Chris shrugged. “It is right.” “Right?” That made no sense, even for this time of the morning. “It is what I am supposed to do.” Chris frowned, looking up from his spoon. “Something tells me to give you things.” “That‟s not funny, Chris,” Jesse said, giving him a sharp look. “Are you hearing things?” “Hearing what?”

First Flight | Connor Wright 42 “Voices? Demons?” Jesse got up, moving toward the phone. “‟Cause if you are, then we gotta get you some help.” Jesse was afraid of him? The idea was painful to think about, and he shook his head. “No! I just know it. As I know…. As I know eggs are good. To tell you that you are important, that I chose you, I give you things. And I feed you.” “You just know?” Jesse crossed his arms but stayed where he was. “How do you know about eggs? I mean, you didn‟t even know about silverware or names or clothes when I met you.” He pushed the bits about being important and chosen aside, for the moment. “Eggs…. It is something inside,” Chris said, trying to find the words for it. He touched his chest. “Here. Eggs are food, and eggs are… eggs are alive. Living. I remember, before, knowing that. As I know how to fly.” That was what dancing was like, his little voice said. Oh, well, that was different. That was more like— “Instinct?” Jesse had known that Chris wasn‟t quite right, but it was another thing altogether to have it made plain. On the other hand, the look on Chris‟s face seemed to speak to feelings that ran deeper than merely confusing fantasy and reality. “Uh, fly?” He hadn‟t really thought about it until just that moment, had been too busy learning words and how to dress himself and about fruits and vegetables and how to tell if something was okay to eat to think about it. Now, though, it was as if something had fallen on him, heavy and inescapable. “I miss my wings,” Chris said, touching his face as his throat closed up and his eyes began to sting. “Hate listening to them, hate hearing them laugh about it. I want to fly again.”

First Flight | Connor Wright 43 “Listening to who?” Jesse stepped sideways, toward the phone. “The ravens and magpies,” Chris managed, before he fled kitchen and house alike through the back door. Jesse bolted after him, the memory of Chris naked and silent in the back of his car flashing through his mind. It didn‟t really matter if Chris was delusional or crazy or… or anything, he wasn‟t going to let him go off on his own. “Chris!” He turned to his left as a harsh sound caught his attention, surprised by the ferocity of his relief. “Chris.” He knelt beside the other young man, who was scrunched up in the same corner he‟d retreated to that disastrous first day he‟d lived with the Swansons. Chris shuddered, another rough noise escaping him. He couldn‟t speak, couldn‟t look at Jesse, could hardly breathe. “Chris, it‟s….” Okay would have been a lie. Whether Chris was imagining things or not, it was clearly affecting him. “Hey. I‟m gonna go call Betsy and let her know we‟re gonna be late or something. Do not go anywhere. I‟ll be right back. Okay?” He nodded, though he stayed tucked into the corner. “Okay. I‟ll be right back.” Jesse returned within two minutes, his phone held to his ear. “Uh-huh, I‟ll let him know. Okay. Yeah. Yeah, if we can, we will, and I‟ll definitely be in today, I swear to God. Yeah, thanks, Betsy. Bye.” He sat down beside Chris, leaning against him. “Betsy says she hopes you feel better,” he said. Jesse was warm, and it felt good to have him so close. It didn‟t take away the press of sorrow, though; it didn‟t make him feel any less alone.

First Flight | Connor Wright 44 “I don‟t understand, you know?” Jesse copied Chris‟s pose, knees drawn up and arms around them, though he kept his head up. “I still don‟t know how you got into the back of my car, but there you were. I brought you home, even though I didn‟t know anything about you except that you weren‟t on drugs and you needed help. “I still don‟t really know anything about you, Chris, even after all this time. You don‟t talk about anything. Your mom and dad, your friends, nothing before I met you. If you don‟t know, you don‟t know.” He shrugged. “Mother and father….” Chris could only remember red mouths and warmth, raucous mornings and quiet nights. It was the same with friends, with anything from before, it was all a jumble of pictures and feelings. He tried to remember names, but there were none like Jesse or Christopher or Ellen or Betsy. It was all just feelings. He felt that they were things like feeds-and-straightens and feeds-and-laughs and plays-with-stones and fell-from-tree. And other than the red mouths, there was nothing but black—blue-black, greenblack, gray-black, brown-black; glossy and matte and leathery. “You don‟t even talk about where you came from. And like I said, if you don‟t know, then there‟s no way you can, so it‟s not a big deal.” “I fell,” Chris said, turning his face toward the porch rail. “There was light and dark, and I fell and then…. Then I was awake. And my wings were gone. And I have stupid feet, and I‟m not doing things right.” “Who said you were doing things wrong?” Having stupid feet was weird, but what else was new? Jesse leaned his head on his hand and propped his elbow on his knee,

First Flight | Connor Wright 45 looking at the back of Chris‟s head. “No one said. I see it,” Chris said, and a fresh wave of misery broke over him. Again, he hadn‟t really thought about it, but now it was obvious. “I found things, and I make food, but—and I can‟t fly and I‟m all wrong. And you….” How could he have fooled himself into thinking that Jesse would want him? Jesse was torn between putting his arm around Chris and calling his mom to ask her for advice. Instead of doing either, he decided to start with the thing he knew the most about and work toward the rest. “People can‟t fly, not without an airplane or a hang glider or something. I can‟t fly either, you know? And what about me?” I chose you. The idea was distracting, so he ignored it again. “I don‟t know!” Chris‟s voice cracked on the last word, and he buried his face in his arms, fighting for breath. Each exhalation hurt, the air forced out in a choked sob. Jesse gave up and put his arm around Chris‟s shoulders. By the time he‟d calmed down, Jesse‟s backside had started to go numb, but he could live with it. “Better, now?” “Don‟t know,” Chris said and took a shuddery breath. “Uh, you started to say something, about me, earlier. You said „And you‟, but then you stopped. Was it, uh, important?” Jesse hoped the question wouldn‟t upset him again. “Don‟t know,” Chris said. He felt muffled, empty; the thought of facing the public made him want to hide for a while. There was only one other place he could think of, besides the corner. “Want to go back to bed.” “Yeah, I bet you do. Come on.” Jesse got to his feet, then

First Flight | Connor Wright 46 leaned over and helped him up. “Do you want to be by yourself for a while?” “I think so.” He must be doing something wrong, if Jesse wasn‟t interested in his offerings. In him. Maybe if he thought about it, he could figure out the right thing to do. “Okay. Will you be okay if I go to the store?” “Wait,” Chris said, as he stepped into the house. “You have to finish breakfast.” “I‟ll take the muffin with me, I promise,” he said, and gently pushed Chris in the direction of the stairs. “I gotta get some clothes on, anyhow. If I show up in my jammies, Betsy will have a fit.” Chris let himself be jostled, remembering the night he‟d been carried into the bathroom and bumped into Jesse and the stranger. They‟d been kissing, that was the word for it. But then they‟d stopped, Jesse had dragged him outside and…. He sighed and climbed the stairs. “Okay.” Upstairs, Jesse pulled back the covers on his bed. “I know you like sleeping in my bed, so in you go.” It wasn‟t so much the bed itself as it was being wrapped up in the scent that was Jesse, but it was one more thing he wasn‟t sure he could explain. “Thank you,” Chris said solemnly, and crawled in. He caught Jesse‟s hand as he pulled the blankets up to his chin. “I would tell you.” “I know you would,” Jesse said and ruffled his hair. “Get some rest. If you want to come in for the afternoon shift, Betsy wouldn‟t mind, but you don‟t have to. I‟m gonna be a little late, maybe as late as after dinner, so don‟t worry if I‟m not home before then, okay?” “Okay.” Chris turned onto his side and wriggled around until he was curled up in the corner, watching Jesse dress

First Flight | Connor Wright 47 through mostly closed eyes. “Have a good day.” “I‟ll try,” Jesse said, buttoning his shirt. “You too.” Chris closed his eyes and everything faded away.

THE world was spread out below him, a lumpy carpet of greens and browns and grays, shot through with silvery flashes of water and human-made things. The sun shone on him, warm and comforting. The cool fresh air held him up and brought him little bits of information. This way, it said, there is food this way. He ignored it in favor of looking at the familiar shape that hung just off to his right. A bird, black, with the sun bringing out blue and green and even violet glints in its feathers. “What is your name?” “Sings-like-water. What is yours?” “My name is— I am— I don‟t know.” “How do you not know your own name?” “I don‟t know anything except your name. I have lost everything. Even flying, even my wings.” “That cannot be.” “It is! I have lost everything!” “Then this is impossible.” Sings-like-water‟s claws locked with his and they wheeled in the sky, falling for one long heart-stopping instant before parting and soaring joyously upward again. There was a cloud before them, just a small puff of gray-white vapor. The two of them scythed into it, but when he emerged on the other side, he was alone. “Hello, little one.” Not alone, after all. He looked up and up and up. He

First Flight | Connor Wright 48 was standing at the feet of the largest raven he‟d ever seen. It was larger than an eagle, than a tree, than the buildings in the city. “Hello,” he said, softly. “You watched that man for a very long time.” The big bird tipped its head and he could see the man, smiling, his mouth open and moving—Jesse. “Yes. He‟s interesting! He makes unusual sounds that I like.” “You gave up food to watch and listen.” “Yes.” How did he know that? He had, and he‟d do it again. The big raven was suddenly much, much smaller, just a little larger than himself. It carefully straightened some of its feathers, then said, “You wanted something you could not find in the sky.” “Yes,” he said, only mildly surprised by the statement. “Yes, I wanted to know more. About the man. About the sounds.” “Ah,” the raven said, straightening a few more feathers, “and have you learned about them?” “Yes.” “Has the price been worth it?” “Price?” “The cost. You are as a hatchling: hungry and knowing not what you hunger for, flightless and wanting flight. Aren‟t you?” “Yes. I am. Who am I? Why am I like this?” “You wanted what could not be had in the sky, and you gave up all you knew to have it.” “Who are you?”

First Flight | Connor Wright 49 “I held you close until your mother joined with your father; I whispered to you as you pipped. I know the names of your hatchlings, and I know the names of your hatchling‟s hatchlings.” The bird stepped toward him and put a wing around him, tucking him close to its body like a mother. “I gave you what you wanted. Is it worth it?” “I don‟t know. I am missing parts. He wants to know, and I can‟t tell him.” “You gave up all you knew for something you could not find in the sky.” Chris woke up enough to turn over, wondering vaguely if the dream meant anything. He certainly didn‟t feel like he‟d found anything except unhappiness, and if he couldn‟t find that in the sky…. If he couldn‟t find that in the sky, then why had he wanted it in the first place? Nonsense, as most dreams were. He closed his eyes and drifted off once again.

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Chapter Seven CHRIS was putting the last of the dinner dishes in the dishwasher when Jesse came in. “Hello.” “Hey.” Jesse held up the bag he carried. “I, uh, brought you something.” “A gift? For me?” Uncertainty nibbled at the edge of his delight, and he didn‟t smile. “Yeah,” he said, a corner of his mouth turning up at the seriousness on Chris‟s face. “Thank you.” Chris closed the dishwasher, washed and dried his hands, then gave Jesse an expectant look. “Here you go,” Jesse said, handing him the bag. “Eggs!” The carton was decidedly smaller than the egg cartons he was used to seeing. Ah, the picture on the top explained it all. “Quail eggs. Thank you.” “No problem.” Jesse waved a hand and headed out of the kitchen. Something went warm inside him and the little voice whispered Maybe? Try again. “Jesse?” Jesse glanced over his shoulder, then turned back at the expression on Chris‟s face. “What?” Chris held the carton out. “Would you stay? Share these? I will cook them.” He hadn‟t meant the eggs to be anything more than a treat, something to maybe take Chris‟s mind off of the morning‟s unpleasantness, but he hadn‟t thought about how

First Flight | Connor Wright 51 Chris might have interpreted the offering. Or had he? You are important. I chose you. Chris‟s words had been chasing themselves through his head all day, and now he absolutely had to think about it. Jesse took a deep breath and nodded. “Only cook a couple for me, okay? ‟Cause I‟m not sure if I‟ll like them or not.” “Okay.” Chris‟s smile was bright, and Jesse wondered briefly why he hadn‟t tried to make him smile more often before now. Then they got busy with a pot and water and salt and wondering if quail eggs cooked more quickly because they were smaller. “Wow, these things are tough to peel,” Jesse said, frowning at the tiny egg. Then he shrugged and sliced off the end of it. “Oh, I see, the lining of the shell is really thick.” “That is good to know,” Chris said, retrieving another paring knife. He gingerly worked the point of it into the shell and pried the top off, revealing the precious contents. “Ah!” Jesse watched as Chris tilted his head back, his own eggs forgotten as he stared at the line of his throat, as he followed it down into the collar of the shirt Chris was wearing. He wanted, suddenly, wanted more viscerally than he had before, wanted to follow that line all the way down, wanted to touch and taste and— “Huh?” “They‟re delicious,” Chris said, holding up the empty shell. “Try it.” The eggs! Right. “Oh, great! Yeah, uh, hang on.” He fought with the tough membrane, managing to get the egg out in almost one piece. Jesse popped the little bite into his mouth and chewed. It tasted like any other hard-boiled egg he‟d ever eaten, which was both a relief and a mild disappointment. He nodded, humming appreciatively. “Those

First Flight | Connor Wright 52 are good.”

A

WEEK and a half later, Jesse‟s curiosity got the better of

him. “Chris?” “Yes?” “Uh, have you changed your mind?” Chris glanced at him, then went back to watching the city go by. “Changed my mind about what?” “About me. You said, uh, that I was important, and that you, um, chose me. But you still make me breakfast and lunch, only you don‟t give me stuff, anymore. Or did you just run out?” Jesse smiled a little, but it faded into concentration as he slowed to make a turn. Chris looked over at him again. “I thought you did not— You said you did not collect any of the things I gave you.” “Yeah, that‟s true,” Jesse said, as he turned into a parking lot. “But I didn‟t mean to make you think that I, uh, hated ‟em or something. And I didn‟t throw ‟em away.” He found a parking place and pulled in. “We‟re here, so c‟mon.” “Oh.” Oh. The same little warmth that had sprung up the night before flared again. “So you would not mind if I gave you more?” Chris said, as he got out of the car. “You can if you want to.” Jesse said, joining him on the sidewalk and tilting his head toward the entrance. Whatever else Chris might have said was forgotten as they walked in the door. The store was like Meyer‟s, in that it carried food and a selection of household necessities, but it was not like Meyer‟s in that most of what it carried would never be found on Meyer‟s‟ shelves. The place was a riot of

First Flight | Connor Wright 53 scents and colors, and Chris flitted happily from thing to thing. Jesse followed him, content to just watch. “Can I live here?” Chris asked, his hands and nose pressed against the front of the lobster tank. “I would have good food forever and forever!” Jesse laughed and shook his head. “Sorry, but I don‟t think they‟d let you. Do you want some shrimp?” “Yes, please!” Shrimp procured, they wandered on. “Oh, hey, look,” Jesse said, pointing at the cold case they were approaching, “they‟ve got—” “Eggs!” Chris, intent on the cartons, missed the startled looks his exclamation got him. He was delighted to discover that not only were there plain old hen‟s eggs, the case also held stacks of quail, duck, and goose eggs. Two cartons of quail eggs and one each of duck and goose went into the basket he carried. “This is a good store.” “I like coming here,” Jesse said, pleased that he‟d managed to refrain from laughing at the gravity of Chris‟s statement. He couldn‟t explain why Chris‟s reaction delighted him, nor why he wanted to kiss him for it. There would be no kissing, however, so he just put his hands in his pockets. “You want to see what kind of ice cream they have?” “Yes. Very much.” Thirty-five minutes of wandering later, the two of them stood in line. When it was their turn, Jesse took advantage of the fact that Chris was inclined to do as he was told and said, “Why don‟t you give me the basket and go wait at the end of the counter, okay?”

First Flight | Connor Wright 54 “Certainly.” Chris handed it over and walked down to stand beside the bagging area. He watched, expression darkening as the total was announced and Jesse paid it. “Jesse—” “This is for you,” Jesse said, picking up the first of the bags and holding it out to Chris. He wasn‟t sure if Chris would understand it, but maybe he would. He‟d figured out the quail eggs, after all. “But—” “And this.” Jesse picked up the second bag. “All of these, they‟re for you.” Chris took the bags as they were handed to him, a funny look on his face. “You are giving these to me?” “Yeah,” Jesse said, feeling his neck getting hot. The cashier and the bag-boy were probably staring at them, but he couldn‟t stop. Wouldn‟t stop for anything, really, short of perhaps a natural disaster. “They‟re all good things, right? Uh, important things?” “Yes,” Chris said. He cocked his head, looking back and forth between Jesse and the bags of food. His little voice seemed to be holding its breath. “A gift?” “Yes,” Jesse said, feeling weirdly giddy as Chris took the last of the bags from him. “For you.” He has given a gift in return, and from a place of good food, his little voice said. “Thank you,” Chris said, and then he looked over Jesse‟s shoulder. “We are in the way.” “Crap!” Jesse jumped and scurried forward, looking over his shoulder, his face hotter than the back of his neck had been. “Sorry!” The woman in line behind them waved. “It‟s okay,” she

First Flight | Connor Wright 55 said. “Sorry,” Jesse said again, catching Chris‟s sleeve and tugging him along toward the doors. In the car, Chris said, “Did you also give me the candy you chose for you?” “Huh? Oh, I completely forgot,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “Well, no, I guess not that.” “I didn‟t think so.” Chris nodded and settled down in his seat. Jesse had given him food. Good food: eggs and shrimp and ice cream. Silence reigned as they made their way out of the parking lot. Jesse‟s curiosity bubbled over again as he stopped for a red light. “Chris?” “Yes?” “I, uh, I‟ve been wondering. You said I was important. Did you mean, you know, important to you?” “Yes,” Chris said. “Okay. And, uh, you said…. You said you chose me. What‟s that mean?” “I picked you out,” Chris said, and then he frowned as the strange dream came back to him. You gave it up for something you could not find in the sky. And if I gave it up, that means I have not lost anything.... An idea formed, small and bright and almost as intriguing as the idea of Jesse and boyfriends. So he closed his eyes and tried to remember if he‟d known Jesse before. He could remember a tree, heat, and the sounds from a car. “You came to the tree.” Jesse frowned at that. “You picked me out because I came to a tree? I‟ve been by millions of trees.” “No,” Chris said, curling up, his head in his hands and

First Flight | Connor Wright 56 his elbows on his knees. “Singing. You, and the tree, and music, and I knew you, before.” “I think I would remember meeting you,” Jesse said as he changed lanes, “especially if it involved a tree and some music.” “Summer,” Chris said, running through the few images and sensations once more. “Hot. The tree and singing, and I know it was you. Sometimes, sometimes you and someone else.” Jesse made an abrupt turn into a church parking lot and put his car into park. “Wait, Chris, just wait a second, here.” He suddenly remembered, remembered how all of last summer and part of this summer, too, he‟d gone down Collins Road to where the giant old oak spread its branches over the road. He remembered parking there, letting music and solitude wash away the thousand irritations of his day. He also remembered taking Kevin out there when privacy couldn‟t be had anywhere else. He hadn‟t been out there in months, though. Not with Kevin, and not to just lie under the tree and listen to music. He‟d driven Collins Road but he hadn‟t stayed, not since he‟d met Christopher. “What, do you live out by that big tree on Collins Road? I know some people do,” he said, turning in his seat and looking at Chris. “Maybe?” Chris rubbed his face. “I can‟t remember.” “I never saw anyone,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “There were birds and rabbits and once some deer, but—” He stared at Chris. It was crazy, utterly and completely insane. “You were in my car. After I— That dead— Birds. Eggs and wings and flying. Chris, were you a, were you a bird? Were you— Were you that raven I picked up?” Yeah, it sounded

First Flight | Connor Wright 57 even crazier when he said it out loud. “He told me I didn‟t lose anything,” Chris said, looking at his knees. “He said I gave it up for something I could not find in the sky.” “Okay,” Jesse said, because it was the only thing he could think of. Just as he inhaled to ask who? Chris spoke up again. “I didn‟t know what he meant, because when he told me it was the day you brought me the quail eggs, and I could only think that I had only found unhappiness. But now I think….” The quiet stretched out until Jesse said, “Now you think what?” “I think… I think it was you.” Chris sat up and looked at him. “Because I would not find you in the sky, would I?” He no longer cared about who Chris had been talking to. “Well, not unless I was in an airplane.” Jesse swallowed as he discovered that he still wanted to kiss Chris, former bird or current crazy man or whatever he was. “I suppose not.” Chris looked at him for a few seconds more. “The ice cream is melting.” Jesse laughed, glad that there hadn‟t really been much of a mood to spoil. “And the shrimp are getting warm. Home we go, then.”

JESSE‟S phone buzzed against his leg in the middle of putting things away. He glanced at the number, then answered the call. “Yeah?” “Hi, Jesse.”

First Flight | Connor Wright 58 “What do you want, Kevin?” Chris pulled a shrimp out of the bag and carefully worked the meat free of the hard orange tail. The tone of Jesse‟s voice was unsettling, but he hadn‟t asked him to leave, so it must be all right. “I just called to see if you wanted to hang out.” “You want to hang out?” Jesse considered the carton of ice cream he held, then put in the freezer. “Why?” “Because I miss you,” Kevin said. “Don‟t you miss me?” “Oh. Well….” He glanced at Chris, then put the last of their ice cream away. “Come on. I‟ll make it worth it. You know, just the way you like it.” Chris‟s head was bent as he concentrated on another shrimp. Jesse caught the little flash of satisfied triumph as the shrimp came free of its former exoskeleton and shook his head. “No. I‟m just gonna stay home. Bye.” “What, with Chris? I‟m offering to blow you and you want to—” “I‟m not interested,” Jesse said and hung up. “You‟re not going to go hang out?” Chris started on a third shrimp. “Nope. I just wanna stay here, see what‟s on TV or watch a movie or something,” he said, smiling as Chris offered him the shrimp. “With you. Thanks.” Chris watched Jesse‟s face as the man took the meat from him, their fingers barely touching. His little voice approved of touching, as well as Jesse‟s plan to stay home with him. “Okay,” he said and retrieved another shrimp.

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Chapter Eight “OOPSIE!” Chris turned at the exclamation, certain that it was not a genuine expression of remorse. To his dismay, nearly all of his carefully stacked apples were now on the floor. He looked around, but the only person to be seen was the back of someone looking at broccoli, on the far side of the display that held the apples and oranges. An hour later, a strange soft thumping and bumping caught his attention, and he hurried around Mrs. Schultz just in time to see a last half-dozen oranges roll off the display and onto the floor. Chris grumbled to himself as he knelt to check each one and decide if it went back on display or not. Forty-five minutes after that, Betsy‟s voice interrupted him as he was discussing cantaloupes. “Chris!” “Yes?” Chris peered around Mr. Bunting‟s shoulder. “Chris, why did you leave the one off of the price of melons? We‟ve had a half-dozen pi— unhappy customers who‟ve insisted that they‟re ninety-nine cents!” Betsy crossed her arms and glared at him. “So I checked the specials sign, and sure enough, it says they‟re a dollar instead of two dollars. All the other prices are wrong, too.” “I wrote them down just as you said,” Chris said, a strange feeling coming over him. It was almost like his first morning all over again but much worse. “I need to finish

First Flight | Connor Wright 60 helping Mr. Bunting and then I will talk to you.” “Just fix the sign when you‟re done here, okay? Great.” The sign, a blackboard on which the specials were chalked, showed clear evidence of someone else erasing his carefully placed numbers. Chris just shook his head and wrote them in again, then went off to finish straightening up the celery. Or he would have, had there been any celery to straighten up. He rubbed his eyes, then walked along the display case. Red potatoes, white potatoes, baking potatoes, carrots, a gap with sad little celery leaves stuck to the bottom of it, cucumbers, avocados. No, the celery was still gone. There was some in the back, so he‟d simply restock it. “Excuse me, young man,” a voice said, as he pulled a cart laden with boxes through the double doors that led to the loading dock. “Yes?” Chris turned and smiled at the small old woman—Mrs. Fitzpatrick—who was standing by the radishes. “The man stacking celery is very rude! I‟d like you to speak to him about how he treats paying customers!” “Celery?” Chris nodded, trying to put on a mean expression. He had no idea how well it worked. “Oh. Yes. I shall speak to him immediately.” He trotted off toward the celery. Circling around behind the apples and oranges, he could see a semi-familiar figure feverishly replacing the celery in its spot. Chris crept up behind him and grabbed his arm. “Excuse—” Something hit him in the stomach and he couldn‟t catch his breath. “Help! Police! Fire!” Mrs. Fitzpatrick said, somewhere behind him.

First Flight | Connor Wright 61 Chris held onto the person who had hit him, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. There was a lot more shouting than necessary, if you asked him, not that he could say anything about it. Then there was the man and the celery. He looked up and almost lost his grip on the guy. “You!” “Let go of me!” Kevin shook his arm, but Chris wouldn‟t let go. Kevin pulled his free hand back and hit him again, landing a solid blow just under Chris‟s left eye. “Help! Fire! Help! Police!” “Shut up, lady,” Kevin snarled, trying to round on her; he was hampered by Chris. “How dare you! Help!” “All of you be quiet,” Tanner bellowed, and silence fell. “Now, what is going on?” Kevin and Mrs. Fitzpatrick launched into explanations, complete with finger-pointing. Tanner held up his hands and shook his head. “Okay, no, you two please be quiet. Christopher! What‟s happening?” “I feel sick,” Chris said, because most of his world was consumed by the misery that was nausea. “And Kevin hit me.” “Because he hit me first!” “I did not,” Chris said. “Christopher didn‟t hit anyone,” Mrs. Fitzpatrick said. “But this Kevin character, he was rude to me! You should fire him, right now.” “He doesn‟t work here,” Tanner said, a funny look on his face. “He doesn‟t? Then why was he putting out the celery?”

First Flight | Connor Wright 62 Mrs. Fitzpatrick put her hands on her hips and glared at Kevin. “I don‟t know,” Tanner said. “Do you, Christopher?” “I think he took it,” Chris said. “And I think he made the apples and oranges fall on the floor.” “You can‟t prove it,” Kevin said smugly. “He did it,” she said, pointing at him again. “Anyone who says that first thing, they‟re guilty. And I bet you anything the tapes will tell the tale.” “Why would he take the celery?” Tanner‟s face was pinched. “And yeah, we can check the tapes. We‟ll have to, anyhow. I think it‟s time we moved this into the office.”

“THERE you are. I was beginning to worry that you‟d been eaten by yams or something,” Jesse said as Chris entered the breakroom. His amusement disappeared at the expression on the other man‟s face. “Hey, is everything okay?” “I was not eaten by anything. I was hit by Kevin.” Chris sat down. “It has been a very bad morning.” “Kevin hit you? What the fuck was he doing here?” Jesse sat up straight and gathered his lunch things together. “Is he still here?” “Yes. He was making things fall on the floor, and then he was moving celery.” Chris shrugged and unpacked his own lunch, though he wasn‟t very hungry. “He may still be in the office. Or—” Jesse was already moving, and by the time Chris got to his feet, he was out the door. “Kevin!” Jesse threw the door to the office open,

First Flight | Connor Wright 63 heedless of anyone inside. “Where the— What the hell is wrong with you? You think it‟s funny, coming here and hitting Chris?” “I, uh—” Kevin‟s eyes widened as Jesse stalked across the room and grabbed the front of his sweatshirt. “You want to see how funny it is?” Jesse tried to punch him in the face, but Kevin moved his head and Jesse‟s fist glanced off of his cheekbone. “It‟s not, is it?” “Jesse,” Chris said, “don‟t—” “Pussy,” Kevin said. “You hit like a girl. Fuck like one, too.” And with that he shoved himself up, out of the chair, and the two of them went down in a tangle of limbs and insults. “Oh my God,” Tanner said, shaking his head. “They do not pay me enough for this.” “Those boys have filthy mouths,” Mrs. Fitzpatrick said. “I‟m going home,” Chris said and left.

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Chapter Nine “CHRIS? I‟m sorry.” Chris looked up from the book he‟d been paging through. “Sorry? Why?” He frowned; Jesse‟s hair was disheveled and his lower lip was swollen, a scab making a dark line down the center. A small smear of blood remained on his chin. “‟Cause Kevin hit you.” He sat down beside Chris. “Sorry I let him get me pissed off. Tanner and Betsy spent an hour yelling at me, and said I‟m off for the rest of the week. Like a kid, sent to his room, you know?” “You did not make Kevin hit me,” Chris said, puzzled by the idea. “So I will be going to work alone?” “I‟m pretty sure he was messing with you because he‟s pissed that you spend more time with me than he ever did.” Jesse sighed and crossed his arms, slumping against the cushions. “Part of which is all his own fault, because he’s less out than I am. Let me tell you, having a boyfriend who freaks out because someone might know? Not fun. At all. And I‟m allowed to walk to the store with you or drop you off, but I‟m not supposed to go in and work ‟til next Monday.” “Oh. Out where?” Chris gave up on the book and put it on the coffee table, then turned a bit so that he could see Jesse. “I do not know what it is like to have a boyfriend. I will come home for lunch with you.” “Out, you know— Oh, right, you wouldn‟t. He doesn‟t

First Flight | Connor Wright 65 like other people knowing that he likes guys. Not everybody is okay with it, which is stupid, but that‟s the way it is.” Jesse put his feet up beside the book and looked at his shoes, frowning as he noticed a round bloodstain on his left toe. “I suppose you don‟t. Uh, I never asked you.” He looked at Chris, then went back to watching his shoes. “You‟re not, like, completely—I mean, me being gay, liking guys, that doesn‟t bother you, does it?” “I do not like Kevin,” Chris said, rubbing the sore spot on his face. “But Kevin does not like me. Does that make us not guy-likers?” Jesse made a strange face, but then he smiled a little and shook his head. “It means you don‟t like one another,” he said. Reviewing Chris‟s words again, he blinked. “You just said that you, uh, like guys?” “I like you.” Chris‟s voice was matter-of-fact. “But I also like Betsy and Ellen and Lucas and Mr. Bunting and your mother and father. So I like people?” “I like them too, in a general kind of way. What I meant was if, Chris? If a guy wanted to, I dunno, kiss you? Would that be something you‟d say no thank you to?” Jesse tilted his head back and watched a chunk of rainbow from the crystal snowflake that hung in the window slide across the ceiling. The conversation was one he‟d been dreading and dying to have all at once, but he still had no idea what would happen at the end of it. “Maybe,” Chris said, thinking about it. “I don‟t think I would like to be kissed by Albert.” “Uh, yeah, I don‟t think anyone wants to kiss Albert, except maybe his mother,” Jesse said with a laugh. “But then, Albert is also a stuffed and mounted moose head, so

First Flight | Connor Wright 66 it‟s not likely that he‟d try to kiss you.” “True.” Chris smiled at him. “So, anyway,” Jesse said, still looking at the ceiling and missing the expression, “you didn‟t tell me. It‟s okay with you that I‟m gay?” Chris tilted his head. “Am I supposed to be unhappy about it?” “No! Well, I don‟t know, I mean, you get to make up your own mind, that‟s all. If it‟s cool with you, that‟s great. If it‟s not, well, I don‟t know what we‟d do, but we‟d figure something out.” Jesse folded his hands behind his head. “Oh. I suppose I am cool with it. I don‟t see why I should not be.” Chris decided to keep the thought to himself that it meant Jesse might someday kiss him. Other than discovering that Jesse had kept Chris‟s gifts and the end of the trip to the market with all the other eggs, Jesse had seemed oblivious to his interest. “Okay?” “Awesome,” Jesse said, and sat up. “Hey, uh, since we have the rest of the afternoon free, you wanna take a drive?” “Okay,” Chris said, “let‟s.”

THE two of them looked up at the oak tree. “I thought maybe coming out here might help, or something,” Jesse said. “Help what?” Chris picked up an acorn and shook it, dislodging an ant. Jesse shrugged. “Help you remember or something. Like I said, I don‟t know what I was thinking, really.” “Oh.” Chris turned the acorn around and around, then

First Flight | Connor Wright 67 dropped it again. He wandered toward the tree, looking up into the branches, but whatever he was looking for didn‟t seem to be there. “Chris?” Jesse followed him, indecision tugging at him. Now was probably not a good time for it, but the desire to kiss Chris was almost enough to drown out his good sense. “Yes?” One of the lowest branches had grown out to nearly touch the ground, and Chris seated himself upon it. “I….” Jesse sat beside him, close enough that he had to put his arm around the other man to really be comfortable. “Uh….” Chris stopped peering up into the foliage and blinked as he focused on Jesse. “You?” “Yeah. Um.” He sighed and gave up on words, turning and putting his free hand on the side of Chris‟s face. He leaned in, then pressed a kiss to Chris‟s mouth. Jesse was— Jesse was kissing him! Startled, he leaned away and covered his lips with his left hand. “You… you kissed me.” “Yeah.” Jesse let him go and scooted over a couple of inches. “I wasn‟t on the list of people you didn‟t want to be kissed by, was I? If I was, I‟m sorry and I won‟t—” “No!” Chris slid off the branch and stood in front of him, resting his hands on Jesse‟s shoulders. “No, you are not on that list. Please kiss me again.” A terrible thought occurred to him and he stepped backward, crossing his arms. “Unless you don‟t want to.” “It‟s less about wanting and more about what my lip will let me do,” Jesse said, getting to his feet and putting his arms around Chris. “I hate the way blood tastes.”

First Flight | Connor Wright 68 “Oh,” Chris said, gently putting a fingertip on Jesse‟s chin. “I didn‟t think about that.” “That‟s all right.” Jesse tipped Chris‟s head back and kissed him again, but Chris made an annoyed sound. “What?” Chris put a little distance between them, but not enough that Jesse had to let go. “I want you to kiss me again. But I don‟t know about mouths and kissing. I don‟t remember.” Chris closed his eyes as he thought about it. “Other than Sings-like-water, I don‟t remember anyone else. And no kissing, because if I was a bird, birds don‟t have lips.” “Oh, well, there‟s not much to know,” Jesse said, brushing dark hair out of Chris‟s eyes. “Do whatever it is you feel like. Just be careful with my lip, okay?” Chris sighed. “Kissing needs pictures. A map.” Jesse pulled him close again, laughing and resting his forehead against Chris‟s. “Pictures aren‟t nearly as nice as figuring it out on your own, though, trust me.” “Which means there are pictures. Good.” Chris nodded as well as he could. “Show me.” “We‟d have to go all the way home,” Jesse said, wondering if kissing Chris a little more enthusiastically would be enough to derail his train of thought. “Which means we couldn‟t kiss until after we got back. Besides, you‟re brilliant. You‟ll figure it out in no time.” “Hmm.” That was a problem. On the one hand, pictures. On the other, kissing. Chris‟s dithering was interrupted by the trill of Jesse‟s phone. “I really hope that‟s not one of my parents,” Jesse grumbled, digging his phone out of his pocket and checking

First Flight | Connor Wright 69 the screen. Withheld. “Not helpful. Hello?” Chris stepped back as Jesse‟s face went dark, then just as quickly took on a rather different expression, one Chris hadn‟t seen before. “Funny you should call,” Jesse said, looking at Chris and trying not to smirk, “I was just thinking about you. I‟m a little busy, just now, but I‟ll get back to you in a minute, okay? Awesome. Mm-hm. Bye-bye.” That was a strange tone, too, and Chris didn‟t remember hearing it before. “Jesse?” “Just a second,” he said, fiddling with his phone. “Okay, c‟mere.” “What—” Chris‟s eyes went wide as Jesse put his free hand around the back of his head, holding him in place. Jesse‟s mouth came down against his and his tongue was pushing at his lips, wanting in, and the idea was so strange that he couldn‟t decide what he should do. On top of that, Jesse had gotten a leg between his own and it was rubbing against the front of his pants and he simply could not think. He tried to say something, but all that came out was a kind of squeak. Jesse‟s lip stung, but he ignored it in favor of kissing, in favor of moving his hand from Chris‟s hair to his hip, hitching himself closer at the sound Chris made. He answered with a hum of his own, but as his overtaxed lip split again, he jerked his head back. “And yeah, that was a giant fuck you,” Jesse said, to his phone. “I don‟t want to see you. I don‟t want to talk to you. Here‟s your proof that it‟s over.” Chris blinked stupidly at Jesse as he fiddled with his phone again, licking his lips and breathing fast. “Jesse?”

First Flight | Connor Wright 70 Guilt smashed into him, hard, and Jesse looked at the tree instead of at Chris. “I‟m sorry, Chris, I shouldn‟t have— I‟m sorry. That was really, that was— I‟m sorry for being a dick. For dragging you into it.” “Your lip is bleeding.” Chris sidled up to him, then blotted at Jesse‟s chin with the cuff of his shirt. “Don‟t do that,” Jesse said, shaking his head and gently pushing Chris‟s hand away. He felt strange, his guilt mixed up with remorse, horror, and disbelief that he was at all concerned about laundry. “You‟ll stain your shirt.” “But you‟re bleeding.” Chris pressed cloth against the cut. “You‟re not food yet. Blood means you might be.” His guilt poked more sharply at him. He‟d childishly thrown more at a possible lunatic than he should have and Chris was worried about him. “Chris, I—” His phone rang again. Withheld. Taking a deep breath, he answered anyhow. “H‟llo? Oh.” He dropped his hand again and pressed the endcall button. “Christopher, I shouldn‟t have done that.” “Answered your phone?” He moved his hand, frowning as more blood welled up. “No. Well, yes and no. I shouldn‟t have kissed you like that.” Among other things. “I should‟ve been slower.” Sweeter. Kinder. Less selfish. “Oh. Well….” Chris moved his hand away from Jesse‟s mouth and tilted his head. “You could try again?” It had been overwhelming, yes, but not so much that he was frightened. The thought of trying it again, moving more slowly, intrigued both himself and his little voice. “I‟d love to,” he said, touching his lower lip, “but I think I‟d better not.” Jesse wrinkled his nose as he looked at the

First Flight | Connor Wright 71 blood on his fingertips. “Not until things heal up here, anyhow.” “All right.” Chris nodded, dabbing at Jesse‟s chin again. He could smell the coppery-ferrous scent of Jesse‟s blood; it reminded him that he had other, more vital concerns. “I never ate lunch. Could we go find some food?” “Really?” Jesse took Chris‟s hand. “And I never finished mine, so yeah. Let‟s go find something to eat.”

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Chapter Ten “SO

EXPLAIN this new look of yours,” Desmond Swanson

said, his mouth twisting as he lifted his chin in Jesse‟s direction. “Have you two not been getting along?” “Kissing is getting along, yes?” Chris said, frowning in thought. “I would say it was, as long as you didn‟t hit him because of it,” Leanna said, glancing from Chris to her son‟s split lip. “No! I didn‟t hit anyone, even when Kevin hit me.” Chris put his fork down and touched the sore spot on his face again. “And he was moving celery.” “Kevin hit you?” Desmond glanced at Jesse again. “Maybe you should explain.” “Kevin came to the store, today, to mess with Chris,” Jesse said, tiredly, not looking at his father. “Somewhere in there, he hit Chris a couple of times, over the celery. I have no idea about that, though. When I found out, I kind of lost my temper and Kevin and I, uh, got into a fight. I, um, got told to stay home ‟til Monday.” “I thought you and Kevin were an item,” Desmond said. Chris didn‟t like the way he said it, but he stayed quiet. “Well, we were, until a couple of months ago,” Jesse said, with a quick tilt of his head. “He‟s an a-absolute jerk, so I broke up with him.” He glanced at his mother before he went back to poking at his lasagna.

First Flight | Connor Wright 73 “Oh good,” Leanna said, serving Chris more lasagna without asking. “And now you and Chris are going out?” “Thank you. You did not like Kevin?” Chris had learned not to tell people why he liked certain foods. No one wanted to hear that the noodles made him think of the skin of carcasses, hiding delicacies in the same way. “There‟s just something about him that I didn‟t care for. He seemed…,” Leanna said, frowning and bobbing her head as she thought, “unhealthy.” “No, Chris and I aren‟t official or anything like that,” Jesse said, “I know the rules. Anyhow, so that‟s why I‟m kind of a mess. Could you pass the bread, Dad? Thanks.” “If you‟re not official, then why‟re you kissing?” Desmond‟s expression darkened as his brows drew down over his nose. “Because I—” “Because kissing is nice,” Chris said, the look on Desmond‟s face worrying him. “And because I chose Jesse.” “Chose—” “Chose me as a friend,” Jesse said, quickly, “just a friend. That‟s all. It won‟t happen again.” “Good.” Chris ate his lasagna, quietly, sitting on the questions that the little discussion had stirred up.

“JESSE? At dinner, you said we weren‟t official. Official what?” Jesse dropped into his desk chair and nodded at Chris. “Yeah. I‟m sorry, I should have— Well, I really should have

First Flight | Connor Wright 74 been thinking, but anyhow. So. Uh, you remember that I told you how some people don‟t like gay people?” “Yes. Why?” “My dad‟s not— I mean, I know I‟m lucky, because he didn‟t kick me out of the house or anything when I told him about being gay. But he doesn‟t like me to talk about liking guys, or talk about dating them or anything like that. So I‟m not supposed to. And I‟m not supposed to have guys over for, um, kissing or anything else,” Jesse said. He kicked his shoes off and pushed them aside. “So it‟s important that he knows you and I aren‟t officially boyfriends or anything like that. And besides, we aren’t, because neither of us has said „wanna go out with me‟ or anything.” “Oh,” Chris said, sitting on the end of Jesse‟s bed. “I thought there was some sort of form to write on.” After a few more thoughtful moments, he said, “And we will not be kissing, anymore.” “Well….” Jesse got up and closed the door. Returning to his computer, he started up an old episode of Battlestar Galactica, then sat down beside Chris. “Okay, you have to promise me that you won‟t tell my parents about this.” “I promise,” Chris said. “I haven‟t exactly been the good son they think I am.” Jesse‟s expression was sheepish and pleased all at once. “I figure that as long as they don‟t know about kissing or anything else, that‟s as good as not having done it in the first place.” “You broke the rule? But they don‟t know, which makes it all right?” Chris didn‟t think that was right. If Jesse said so, then that was what happened, but it didn‟t fit with the picture he had of Jesse.

First Flight | Connor Wright 75 “It sounds bad, when you say it like that.” Jesse‟s pleasure faded, leaving only embarrassment. “But yeah, basically. I mean, it‟s not fair, being able to have a boyfriend, but I can‟t do anything, I can‟t say anything? I might as well not have one.” “That does seem wrong.” Chris shook his head. “But we are not official. So there will be no more kissing.” “And that sounds really depressing,” Jesse said with a sigh. “We don‟t have to be going out to kiss or anything else.” “We don‟t? Oh.” That was an interesting idea. “But….” “But what?” Hope lurched to life; Jesse would not push. “But the rules say we can‟t. And I don‟t know who is supposed to do the asking.” Chris shrugged. “I thought that maybe you don‟t want to be boyfriends, because you have not asked, but then I thought maybe I am allowed to ask. But I don‟t know.” “You‟re allowed to ask,” Jesse said, taking Chris‟s hand. They could think about the rules later, when there was room in his head for more than just the ringing incandescent yes that filled it. He had to swallow before he could speak, and even then his throat was dry. “But if you want me to, I can.” Chris nodded, eyes wide. There was something about the look that made Jesse‟s heart kind of fall over, maybe, since it wasn‟t really a skip. It also served as a reminder that Chris wasn‟t as worldly as he seemed at times. “So, Chris? You wanna go out with me?” “Yes!” And then, greatly daring, Chris leaned over and tried to kiss Jesse. “Mmph, ow,” Jesse said, leaning back and touching his lip. “Stupid Kevin.”

First Flight | Connor Wright 76 “I‟m sorry.” Chris touched Jesse‟s lip as well. “Maybe tomorrow?” “Maybe. And we shouldn‟t really be risking having Mom and Dad catch us, anyhow.” Jesse sighed and went back to his desk chair, pausing the show they weren‟t actually watching. “You wanna finish watching Lord of the Rings? We stopped right before your favorite part, I think.” “Yes, please!”

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Chapter Eleven THERE was something looming over him. Looming, and then something touching his mouth— Chris put a hand up and ran into warm fabric over something—no, someone—and opened his eyes. Jesse moved back, just enough to let Chris‟s eyes focus. “Hey,” he said, “I made you breakfast. Your favorite.” “Hi,” Chris said, and moved his hand up to Jesse‟s lower lip. “You did? Why?” “Because I‟ve been a huge dick, lately. You made me breakfast and lunch for weeks, and I only said thanks, instead of, you know, fixing anything for you.” Jesse took a breath and moved his hand, carefully perching on the edge of Chris‟s cot. “Among other things. We should go eat.” Because if they didn‟t, he was pretty sure he was going to try things that would do his lip no good at all, in addition to making Chris late for work. “Oh.” Chris still wasn‟t entirely sure why being a dick was a bad thing. Jesse had told him that was what the thing between his legs was, but the thought of food was more compelling than worrying about what Jesse might be. “All right.” Downstairs, he discovered that Jesse had indeed set out his favorite breakfast (cereal with a couple of eggs broken over it), in his favorite bowl, beside which was his favorite spoon. Chris sat down, added milk and honey to the mess in

First Flight | Connor Wright 78 the bowl, and began to eat. “Do you wanna walk this morning? It looks like the weather‟s okay,” Jesse said, from where he leaned against the counter. “I can drive you, too.” “Walking is fine,” Chris said, stirring his breakfast. “And I will come home for lunch with you.” “All right.” Jesse sipped his coffee, then shook his head. “I have no idea what I‟m going to do with myself.” “Your mother said you should clean your room.” Chris shrugged and picked up his bowl, drinking the milk. “Yeah, I guess I could do that,” he said, frowning at the idea. “Whoopee.”

“SO,

WE have the afternoon to ourselves,” Jesse said, then

finished off his fries. “You wanna do anything in particular?” “I don‟t know,” Chris said, licking salt from his fingers, “do you?” “Uh, no, not really.” Jesse shook his head, but the image of Chris‟s tongue stayed with him. “Oh, I know, we could go to the zoo.” They hadn‟t been there yet. The aquarium, yes, but not the zoo. And what better way to make sure he behaved himself than being surrounded by packs of small children and humorless parents? “What is the zoo?” Chris tried to remember if they‟d ever talked about it before and couldn‟t, so he ate the last of his burger instead. “It‟s a place where you can see all kinds of different animals, like elephants and flamingos and snakes and stuff. It‟s pretty cool.”

First Flight | Connor Wright 79 Chris nodded and rounded up the trash nearest him. “All right, let‟s go to the zoo.”

“THERE‟RE more birds this way,” Jesse said, checking his map against the signs posted at the intersection of pathways. “Uh, looks like…. Oh.” He blinked up at the sign. Raptors, Carrion Birds, Tropical Aviary. “Looks like what? A sign?” Chris waited politely, until a familiar sound brought his head up. “Oh. That was—excuse me,” he said, and walked off. “Chris!” Jesse hurried after him, catching up just as he arrived at a large enclosure holding two huge black birds. “Hey, what‟s—” “Why are they locked up?” Chris‟s face was strange and his knuckles white as he gripped the fence, leaning over as far as he could. “All the other animals have not been locked up, why are they?” “I don‟t know,” Jesse said, “uh, maybe to keep them from flying away? Or to keep them safe?” “But that‟s wrong, that‟s wrong, they need to fly, to, to….” Chris made a plaintive sound, a creaking little cry. The ravens hopped closer to the bars of their cage, tilting their heads this way and that as they looked at him. The one nearest Chris made a liquid pinging and he closed his eyes. “Chris?” Chris cried again, and the second raven made an inquisitive noise in return. A third sound escaped him, this one slightly different, and the first raven spread its wings.

First Flight | Connor Wright 80 The right wing was whole, but only a third of the left remained. The bird settled its wings and pinged again. “Oh,” Chris said. “Oh, that‟s….” The second one stretched, too, but its wingspan was only half of what it should have been. He screwed up his face and made a sad imitation of the first one‟s ping, then tried for something that came out as quork. Jesse stared as the first raven laughed. The second one folded its wings and very clearly gave a wolf-whistle, and Chris just said quork again. His boyfriend talked to ravens. It was bizarre, yet sort of charming. He waited for a lull in the conversation, then quietly asked, “Everything okay, now?” “Yes,” Chris said, nodding at him. “They‟re safe and eat good food every day.” “Good,” Jesse said. He pointed at the informational plaque to their right. “The sign over there says they were found out in the woods, hurt, and that they were brought here. If they could have let them go, they would have. The zoo gets a lot of its animals that way.” “Oh,” Chris said, but he didn‟t bother to look. He tried to make a pinging sound, but as before it just sort of sounded strangled. The second raven clucked at him, and the first trilled. “They only know that I am a man.” “I‟m sorry,” Jesse said, looking around. They were alone, so he slipped his arm around Chris. “I am not surprised.” Chris sighed and leaned into the embrace, letting go of the fence. “Someday, I will know who I am. And then I will have two names.” “And I‟ll call you whichever one you want. Are you ready to go see the vultures?”

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Chapter Twelve “YOU guys take care!” Edie hugged Jesse and Chris in turn, then bounced off after Lucas, leaving them alone in front of the movie theater. Chris waved as she looked back, then glanced at Jesse. “Jesse? Could we go out to the tree?” “Sure,” he said and led the way through the parking lot. Jesse saw them first, four black shapes winging their way through the evening sky. He nudged Chris and pointed them out, watching in fascination as they came closer, drawn by the distressed sound that Chris made. The ravens were large, with bright sharp eyes and heavy sharp bills, their glossy feathers reminding him of Chris‟s hair. One of them perched above Chris‟s head, within arm‟s reach, and clucked at him. Chris blinked up at the bird, then made a more inquisitive rusty-gate sound, followed by a quork. Another of the birds hopped down from its branch and lit beside the first one, twisting its head this way and that to get a look at Chris. The two of them murmured together, then the first raven clucked and chirruped at the man. Jesse held his breath as they spoke, human and bird, trying to decipher the look on Chris‟s face. Were these his parents? Or maybe aunts, uncles, or other relatives? Was this a happy reunion? Did either of them truly understand what was being said?

First Flight | Connor Wright 82 And then came other questions, like what if Chris turned back into a bird? What if he turned into a bird? (On the one hand, he and Chris could be together and no one could complain. On the other, his parents would be really upset, and he would miss his friends and stuff. On top of that, eating garbage didn‟t appeal to him.) They were men, sitting in this tree, men who smelled of the city. It would have been prudent—normal—to avoid them. However, one of them had sounded like a hatchling, alone and needing succor. A hatchling alone was not something Light-on-water could ignore, not after five broods of her own. She could not understand how this big pale lumpy man, who was nothing like her sleek mate or their perfectly shaped offspring, could speak to her. Light-on-water could hear, in the strangely accented notes, the echoes of her lost one, the one who had disappeared. “Leave men,” Fell-from-tree said, from the far end of a branch. “Bad.” “Bad!” Plays-with-stones echoed, ever the little sister. “Bad, bad men.” “Not bad!” Chris said, putting his arm around Jesse. “This one is good. He feeds me good food, feeds me eggs and liver and meat.” “Liver!” Plays-with-stones said, and fluttered up to sit right above Jesse‟s head. She leaned over and peered at him. “Liver? Give it!” “He doesn’t have any,” Chris said. “Not now.” “Sings-like-water?” Chris wobbled sharply as he turned to look at Light-onwater, his mouth hanging open. “Sings—Who is that?”

First Flight | Connor Wright 83 “You, you are my lost Sings-like-water,” she said, dropping from wood to warm shoulder. She pushed her beak into his hair and tried to straighten it, but it wasn‟t nearly as cooperative as feathers or baby down. “What happened? Why are you like this?” “He is a man! Not yours!” Fell-from-tree squawked. “He has not been right since he fell,” Light-on-water said, then nibbled at Chris‟s hair again. “My mother was Laughs-and-straightens,” Chris said. “Is that you?” “You called me that as a hatchling, but my name is Lighton-water,” she said. “Why? Where are your beautiful wings, your fine tail?” “I don’t know,” Chris said. “I remember I fell. I fell, because I gave up my wings. For something I could not find in the sky. This one.” He patted Jesse. “How?” Sees-caches said, creeping along the branch toward the man and his own mate. “I don’t know,” Chris said. “I don’t know anything.” “Strange,” Plays-with-stones said. “Strange, strange Sings-like-water.” She stepped forward and flitted gracefully onto Jesse‟s shoulder, the better to see him. “Hello.” “Hi,” Jesse said, leaning back to look at her. He still had no idea what was being said, but it seemed like the proper response. Plays-with-stones tugged at the fleshy bit that stuck out from the side of Jesse‟s head. “Ow,” he said, twisting his head, trying to get his ear away from the curious bird. “Please stop that.” Hm. Stuck fast, and apparently not to eat. Too bad. She

First Flight | Connor Wright 84 turned her attention to the soft stuff under her feet, pulling at the edge of it. It didn‟t seem to be edible, either, and she muttered to herself at the discovery. Sees-caches jumped and hopped along until he could settle on Chris‟s other shoulder. “You chose this one?” Chris nodded. “Yes. He came in summer, singing.” “I remember!” Plays-with-stones bounced onto Jesse‟s head, ignoring his exclamation of surprise. “Lots of noise, and Sings-like-water always watching.” “No noise!” Fell-from-tree snapped. “Hush!” “Will he feed hatchlings?” Light-on-water leaned forward, looking at Jesse. “Can he build a strong nest?” “Twice as much as he feeds me,” Chris said, though he didn‟t actually know. The answer felt right, though, and he nodded again. “We have a good nest, strong and safe.” “A nest now? How many eggs?” Light-on-water knew men were strange, but nests and eggs out of season? That was almost incomprehensible. “No eggs,” Chris said, and realized that he didn‟t know anything about humans and offspring, other than they were noisy and sometimes terrible. “Not yet.” Pronouns were a human thing, so the fact that Jesse was a man didn‟t register with Chris‟s family. It also didn‟t exclude the possibility of the two of them producing eggs. “No eggs.” She clucked and pushed hair behind his ear. “It is not time for eggs, that’s why. They will come in spring.” “Yes.” Maybe. Chris had no idea, so he‟d have to ask Jesse or Leanna. “It is late,” Sees-caches said, cocking his head and casting his gaze at the dimming sky.

First Flight | Connor Wright 85 “It is,” Light-on-water said. “Bad late,” Fell-from-tree said. “Then go,” Chris said. He wanted to touch them, hold them close, but he didn‟t know if they would let him. “Rest well, eat well.” “Rest well, eat well,” Light-on-water said, then attempted to straighten his hair one last time. “My not-lost Sings-like-water.”

“CHRIS?” The ravens had gone an hour ago, and it had been dark for about forty-five minutes. “Sings-like-water,” Chris said. “What?” “My name. She called me that, Sings-like-water.” “Your mother?” “Yes.” Chris turned toward Jesse, though he couldn‟t really see him. “Who am I?” “You‟re Christopher and Sings-like-water,” Jesse said. “Who are they?” “They‟re my friend,” he said, patting along the bark of the tree until he found Chris‟s hand. “I love them.” The words slipped from his mouth, easily, and for a moment he wondered just when he‟d fallen for the strange young man. “You only love Christopher,” Chris said, pulling his hand away. “You were Sings-like-water first,” Jesse said, scooting over and putting his arm around Chris. “You‟re still Sings-

First Flight | Connor Wright 86 like-water. You love your spoon and eggs and liver and all good things like that, and, I don‟t know, you‟re better at being human. Even so, there‟s still something different about you. Even Lucas noticed it and he doesn‟t really know you. I love you, no matter what your name is. True, it‟d be kind of weird to try to kiss a raven, and I‟d never fit in a nest, but….” “They don‟t understand, either.” What could he say to that? “I‟m sorry.” “I want to get down, now.” It took them some doing to get out of the tree, but they managed. On the ground, in the faint light of the stars and the quarter moon, Chris caught hold of Jesse‟s shirt and looked up at him. Jesse didn‟t think about it, he just tipped his head, leaned down, and kissed him. He was gentle, this time, as he touched Chris, as he teased Chris‟s mouth open; this time was theirs alone. Chris whimpered as Jesse deepened the kiss, as Jesse touched him. He wrenched his mouth away, gasping. “More? Is there— I want— Show me,” he said, “Jesse—” “Shh,” Jesse said, and led him over to the car. “Just lean there, yeah. Okay.” He started off with another kiss, slow and sweet, sliding his hands over Chris‟s sides. The heat of Jesse‟s body, the feel of his hands and the taste of his mouth, they all drew him away from thinking and Chris was grateful for it. He tried to reciprocate, but he kept getting distracted and settled for just holding onto Jesse. He shifted his weight, easing his left leg between Chris‟s. “All right?” “Uh-huh,” Chris said, letting his head fall back. Jesse was kissing his throat, the side of his neck, stopping when

First Flight | Connor Wright 87 he got to the collar of his shirt. “Should I?” He let go of Jesse and put his hands on the top button of his shirt. “If you want to,” Jesse said, and brushed a kiss across Chris‟s lips. “Yes,” he said and started unbuttoning. The idea of Jesse‟s hands touching his skin, touching him without fabric in the way, made the little voice buzz with approval. Chris looked down as Jesse‟s hands moved, but he was just undoing the buttons at the bottom of the placket. A few moments and their fingers met in the middle, getting in each other‟s way instead of opening the last button. “Let me,” Jesse said, “please?” “Okay,” Chris said, nodding and letting his hands fall away. Once his shirt was open, Jesse pushed it back and pulled up the thin T-shirt he wore underneath, his hands spread wide across Chris‟s skin. He hummed and moved his feet as Jesse‟s fingers found his nipples; he made a throatier sound as he accidentally rubbed up against Jesse‟s hip. “Are you okay?” Jesse let go of him, peering at what he could see of Chris‟s face. “Did that hurt?” He shook his head and pulled the other young man closer. “It was good,” Chris said, curling his hands in Jesse‟s shirt. “Good,” Jesse said, and then he kissed Chris again, sweeping his thumbs over hard nipples. Chris was beginning to get the hang of kissing, parting his lips in invitation and pressing his tongue to Jesse‟s. His concentration moved lower almost immediately, however, as Jesse was pinching him. Not hard enough to hurt, but he‟d never paid any real attention to the little round brownishpink bits on his chest. He had no idea that they could feel

First Flight | Connor Wright 88 like that. Each squeeze seemed to run straight down between his legs, and when he pushed himself up against Jesse, it was…. He tried to say something about it, but it just came out as a strange noise. “Hey,” Jesse murmured into his ear, putting a scant inch or so of distance between them, “Chris? Can I”—he let his left hand drop down, covering the fly of Chris‟s jeans and the definite erection behind it—“can I see you?” “Dark,” Chris pointed out. His body wanted something more, but he didn‟t know what and he had no words to ask for it. “Yeah,” Jesse said, and pressed the heel of his hand down over denim. “Do you want me to, uh, go down?” “Down where?” He didn‟t want Jesse to go, not now. “Do you have to leave?” “I‟m not gonna leave you,” Jesse said and kissed him on the cheek. It was weird: Chris wasn‟t refined or delicate or sheltered, he simply didn‟t know. Still, somehow, talking to him about blow jobs just seemed wrong, like it would sully him or something. “No, I meant, uh, I can do something about this, if you want. I‟d like to, but it‟s up to you.” He pressed his hand down again. “You can?” Chris pushed up into the pressure, closing his eyes. “Yes, please.” “All right.” Jesse kissed him again, short little kisses from Chris‟s cheek over his lips to his chin, bending his knees as he worked his way lower. Chris opened his eyes because Jesse was kissing his chest and licking him and then— “Oh, what, what was that?” “This?” Jesse carefully bit Chris‟s right nipple and flicked it with the tip of his tongue, smiling as Chris moaned

First Flight | Connor Wright 89 yes above him. Switching over to the left earned him a Jesse! and at that, he dropped to his knees. Chris could only breathe and watch Jesse‟s shadowy figure as he popped open the button on his pants, as he pulled the zip down. “Oh wow,” Jesse said, his smile turning into a smirk as he discovered that Chris hadn‟t bothered with underwear. “Bet that feels better. Look at that, mm.” He worked Chris‟s jeans down a bit, then leaned forward and wrapped his hand around Chris‟s cock. “Uh-huh,” Chris squeaked, “I like that.” Jesse made an amused sound and stroked him, slowly. He resisted the urge to say something cheesy, leaning forward instead and gently closing his mouth over the head. The half-expected cry still surprised him, the sound lost and wild. Panting, he touched Jesse‟s hair. “Jesse, what are you doing?” “Going down on you. Do you want me to stop?” “No! But….” “What?” Jesse kept stroking him, slow and steady. “It‟s dirty?” But it had been so much better than just touching, and he really wanted Jesse to do it again. His little voice was somewhat confused, but didn‟t object—couldn‟t object, really. “You took a shower this morning,” Jesse said, “you‟re fine.” “No, you have to wash your hands after the bathroom. So it‟s dirty.” Oh. That made an appalling amount of sense. “I love the

First Flight | Connor Wright 90 way your mind works,” he said. “It‟s okay, this time. If you‟re really worried, I might have some condoms in the glove box.” “It‟s okay?” Finding condoms, whatever they were, would take time. And that meant he wouldn‟t be going down. If Jesse said it was okay, then it must be. “Yeah,” Jesse said, though he was compelled to add, “but it‟s seriously up to you. If it‟s going to bother you, I‟ll find a rubber.” “It‟s okay,” Chris said, petting Jesse‟s hair. “Go down again?” “Awesome,” Jesse said. Chris didn‟t have a thought to spare for looking, though he was curious about what Jesse was doing; his whole world had become sensation. The wet heat of Jesse‟s mouth and the touch of his hand—No, hands, Jesse was touching him with both hands, all of it good but not quite enough. “Almost—Jesse? More!” The last word was a moan as Jesse hummed around him and touched him again, another of those places he‟d never thought of. Bright fire consumed him, a sharper, clearer pleasure than he‟d ever known. Jesse hummed again and ran his tongue around the head of Chris‟s cock, teasing at the edge of his foreskin, hand moving steadily as Chris shivered and cried out above him. He could do nothing but breathe as he regained his senses, breathe and settle back into his body, which felt strange. “Jesse, I can‟t—” Chris wobbled and abruptly slid down the fender to sit on the ground, breathing fast and brain still fuzzy. Jesse moved to sit beside Chris, putting his arms around him and tugging at him until Chris was more-or-less

First Flight | Connor Wright 91 sitting in his lap. “You okay?” “Don‟t know,” Chris said, then yawned. He kissed Jesse, awkward but determined. To his delight, Jesse kissed him back, still holding him close. He scrunched down and curled up, tucking himself under Jesse‟s chin. “That was good,” he said, after a few minutes of quiet. “Yeah? Good. You ready to go home?” “Okay.”

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Chapter Thirteen “HAND me the top sheet, would you?” Jesse held out his hand. “Thanks.” Chris passed the soft cotton sheet over, silent. Jesse spread the sheet out on his bed, then turned around. “You‟re still thinking about yesterday, aren‟t you?” “Yes.” Chris lifted his hands, then let them fall again. He shook his head. “Screw it,” Jesse said, and walked around the end of Chris‟s bed to put his arms around the other young man. “I‟m sorry, Chris.” “Why?” “I‟m sorry that I can‟t help.” Jesse put a hand on the back of Chris‟s head. “Sorry I can‟t make it right.” Chris wrapped his arms around Jesse, let his head rest on his shoulder. “I want to. God, I want to fix things. I love you, and I wish saying that would just fix it.” Neither of them noticed Desmond creep by the open door.

DESMOND knocked on the doorframe. “Jesse? I need to talk to you.” His mouth went dry, but he nodded at his father and set his book aside. “Okay.”

First Flight | Connor Wright 93 “Let‟s go down to the garage.” Desmond jerked his head in the general direction of the stairs, then walked off. Jesse followed, anxiety making him twitchy as he tried to figure out what his dad wanted to discuss with him. “So, uh, Jesse. I was walking down the hall yesterday.” Desmond opened the bottom drawer of his toolbox and closed it again, then opened the next one up. “I saw—” “We‟ll move out,” Jesse blurted. “Just give us a couple of weeks to find a place.” “Let me finish,” Desmond said, shaking his head and realigning wrenches that didn‟t need it. “I saw you and Chris, but I heard you too. Talking to him.” “Oh.” “And…. And, son, I….” He crossed his arms, stepping back from his workbench and turning to face the back wall of the garage. “I think I‟ve been, uh… wrong. And maybe, probably, unfair.” “Wrong?” Jesse shook his head and frowned at his father‟s back. “What—” “Because I didn‟t listen to you. Or your mother. And yesterday….” He hunched up. “Yesterday, I heard you saying things I said… to your mother. Before you were born. And… I‟m, uh, I‟m sorry.” “It‟s okay,” Jesse said, a little absently, as he tried to grasp the idea that his dad was apologizing to him. “I don‟t think your mother would agree with that,” Desmond said, moving back to the workbench, a wry little smile coming and going. “But you and Chris don‟t have to go anywhere. If you don‟t want to. Just, uh, no details, and, uh, keep it down. Oh, and nothing excessive, uh, in front of company.”

First Flight | Connor Wright 94 “Well, there go our plans for the next barbecue,” Jesse said, his face as straight as he could make it. Desmond looked at his son, and then he started to laugh with deep guffaws that seemed to leave him feeling lighter than when he‟d started the conversation. “Sorry, Jess, but I just don‟t want to have to explain to the insurance company how it is that Mr. and Mrs. Hanson died in our yard.” Then he sighed and glanced at the young man. “I don‟t want to pry, and you can tell me it‟s none of my business and I‟ll leave you alone, but is there anything that you two need help with?” Jesse laughed, too, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He sobered and shrugged. “It‟s not that it‟s none of your business. It‟s just a complicated family thing, and it‟s nothing that can be changed right this second.” “Okay,” Desmond said. “You‟re my boy, you know.” “Yeah.” Jesse nodded at him. “I know. Thanks, Dad.” “Wait a second,” he said, looking up from brushing invisible dust off of the bench. “I thought he didn‟t have a family?” “He has a family. It‟s just that they‟re, not, uh….” Jesse waved a hand. “They weren‟t, um, happy. To find out about him. Us.” “They kicked him out?” Desmond looked grim. “Kind of. Like I said, it‟s complicated.” “That‟s not right.” “No, it‟s not.” Jesse hoped Chris and his parents would forgive the minor slander.

First Flight | Connor Wright 95 “WE‟RE home,” Chris called, from the kitchen. “Hey,” Jesse said, hurrying through the door that Chris held for him. “Thanks.” “Hi, sweetie. Can you get the big stuff?” Leanna said as Jesse came around the end of the car. “Chris has the soft stuff, and I can get the rest of the bags.” “Sure,” he said and gathered up jugs and boxes. After the groceries were put away, Chris went off to look at the new issue of Birds & Blooms. “Jesse,” Leanna said, leaning against the counter, “I know you‟re fond of Christopher.” “What‟s the matter?” Jesse crossed his arms, wondering if his parents had actually swapped bodies. The idea was ludicrous, of course, and he discarded it. “You‟re not gonna—” “Chris and I had a little talk on the way home,” Leanna said, holding up a hand. “You and I both know there‟s something not quite right about him. Don‟t you dare take advantage of him, young man.” “Take advantage—uh, just what did you, um, talk about?” “The night before last. When you went out to your tree.” Oh. Oh. Jesse covered his face with his hands, wishing he could melt into the linoleum. “Oh. Mom, do you really think I‟d do that? What is with you and Dad today?” “No. I just wanted to remind you,” she said, frowning. “What about your dad?” “He came upstairs and asked me down to the garage, and then he said he was sorry,” Jesse said, folding his arms again. “About the rules. And then he basically said that they

First Flight | Connor Wright 96 didn‟t apply anymore. Or maybe just not to me and Chris.” “Oh.” Leanna‟s frown deepened as she thought about it. “How about that.” “Except for the details part, but that‟s not a problem.” Jesse sighed. “Anyhow, uh, did Chris say anything about, uh, his family?” “No, he didn‟t. Why?” Leanna brightened and straightened up. “Did you find his family? I bet they were so relieved to find out that he‟s safe.” “Well, kind of. They‟re kind of—they weren‟t, uh, thrilled. About me. And really not thrilled by the idea of me and Chris, uh, together.” “Oh, sweetie,” she said, putting an arm around his shoulders, “I‟m sorry.” “It‟s okay. More or less, anyway.”

“JESSE said you two had a talk, today,” Leanna said, pulling the elastic out of her hair and running her fingers through it. “Yeah,” Desmond said, as he dropped his socks into the laundry basket at the foot of their bed. “Something about changing the rules?” He watched his wife brush her hair for a moment. “Yeah. Uh, yesterday, I was goin‟ down the hall and I heard Jess say „screw it‟, so I looked in his room and he was huggin‟ Chris. I was gonna yell at him, but….” Desmond took off his shirt. “That was all they were doing. And Jesse started talkin‟ to him, tellin‟ him he was sorry he couldn‟t make things better for Chris. Sorry that loving him, saying „I love you‟, that wasn‟t enough.

First Flight | Connor Wright 97 “And I started thinking. Thought about you and me, when we were just married, and the bad time we went through. And I thought about how you and Jesse both tried to tell me I was being stupid. When he told us.” “So you changed your mind?” Leanna put her brush down on the dresser and walked over to him. “Yeah.” He framed her face with his hands and stood there, just looking at her. “Did you know you‟re beautiful?” She smiled and closed her eyes. “You‟ve mentioned it a few times.” “He‟s my boy,” Desmond said, slipping his arms around her and pulling her close. “You told me it wasn‟t fair. Wasn‟t right. That he was my son.” “Has he forgiven you?” Leanna returned the embrace. “You‟re perfectly imperfect, like the rest of us.” “I think so,” he said with a sigh. “Maybe. Maybe I don‟t want to be imperfect. I was supposed to raise him right.” “He hurts when the people he loves hurt,” she said, holding him a little tighter. “Along with the million other good things. I think we did all right.” “You think so? God, I hope we did.”

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Chapter Fourteen HARUMOYA SUSHI + IZAKAYA

CHRIS looked up at the sign over the doors. “Sushi. You‟re sure I will like it?” “Yep,” Jesse said, holding the door for him. “I would be really surprised if you didn‟t.” He went through to the second set of doors, distracted by the scents filtering out to him. “Where does sushi come from?” Chris said, as he opened the inner door for Jesse. “Japan, and mostly from the ocean.” Jesse ducked his head as he passed. “They have other stuff, too.” “Japan. That‟s where video games come from.” Chris inhaled, looking around the little arrival area, taking in the giant aquarium, the long counter with glass panels at the back of it, and the woman in a fancy robe who was looking at them. The air carried the scent of fish, of frying, of spices and other things that he had no name for. Every single one made his little voice burble happily about food, though. “A lot of them, yeah,” Jesse said. He smiled at the woman and held up two fingers. “Hi. Just two, tonight.” “Sure,” the woman said. “Would you like to sit at the counter or a table?” “A table, please,” he said, and they followed her through the restaurant.

First Flight | Connor Wright 99 “Tonight‟s special is nigirizushi with salmon roe and the yolk of a quail egg,” she said as she handed over the menus. “California rolls, too, both half-price. Want something to drink to start?” “Salmon roe?” Chris said, glancing at Jesse. He leaned over and murmured, “Fish eggs.” “Oh!” Chris nodded at warmth swelling inside him chosen this place for him, source of good food. “I‟d like please.”

the woman, the same little as he realized that Jesse had had brought him to another the special with the quail egg,

“Okay,” she said, writing it down. “How many?” “I can have more than one?” “Yes,” she said, her eyebrows quirking as she looked at him. “They‟re not very big,” Jesse said, making not quite a complete circle with his thumb and forefinger. Chris nodded at him, then looked up at the woman again. “Um, three? Please?” “Sure,” she said. “And anything to start for you, sir?” Jesse shook his head. “Um, two Cokes, please. And I need a minute to make up my mind,” he said, holding up the menu. “Sure. I‟ll be right back with your drinks.” She nodded and walked off. “Okay, so, when you order sushi, you order it by the piece,” Jesse said, opening Chris‟s menu to the pictures in the middle. “Or you can order an assortment that gets you two pieces of four or five or more kinds, or you can ask for whatever the chef wants to make and take your chances.

First Flight | Connor Wright 100 This is what they‟ve got, here. Anything with a star by it is, uh, raw.” “Really?” Chris‟s eyes went wide as he looked over the selection. Yes, he‟d chosen very well in Jesse. “And I can ask for as many as I want?” “Basically. You can‟t order everything they have, though, because other people want some too.” “Sharing is good,” Chris said, nodding at the mild admonition. “What‟s this?” “Oh, that‟s sea urchin eggs.” Jesse didn‟t care for it, but he knew Chris liked all sorts of odd food combinations. “And this?” “Grilled eel.” “Eel! Like the fish at the aquarium with the teeth?” Chris frowned at the idea. “Kind of. This is a different kind of eel.” “Oh. What should I get?” It was more a request for a starting place than anything. Everything looked—smelled— so very good. “Whatever sounds good,” Jesse said. “This one is egg and rice, this one is a shrimp, and they‟ve got things with more than one ingredient down here too.”

“JESSE?” “Yeah?” He opened his eyes, not bothering to make them focus on the black-on-black shape that was the back of Chris‟s head before closing them again. Lying in bed with Chris still felt almost illicit, despite knowing that they had tacit permission.

First Flight | Connor Wright 101 “Dinner was really very good. I think I could eat there always.” Chris licked his lips in memory. Jesse laughed. “I knew you‟d like it.” “I did. Very much.” Chris was quiet for a minute. “I like you.” “Aw. And I like you too.” “You said you love me.” “Yeah, I do.” “I don‟t know about love. I want to feed you and give you things and show you that I am strong and trust… trust… trustable, and that those are important things to do, for me. Is that love, like when you say it?” “I‟ve been waiting for you to ask,” Jesse said, rubbing his hand over the center of Chris‟s chest. “The thing is, love is one of those things no one can explain, not like why the sky is blue or where sushi comes from. Maybe that is love, for you. Me, I want to feed you, too, but I want to just… hang out with you and talk to you and show you stuff and discover cool things with you and listen to you talk to ravens and… and all kind of things.” “Oh. Good,” Chris said, turning over so they were faceto-face. “Awesome,” Jesse said, then covered a yawn. “Sorry. Um….” “It‟s time to sleep. Rest well.” “G‟night; you too.”

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Chapter Fifteen “CALL for Swanson line three—er, sorry, Jesse Swanson, line three.” That was strange; his parents usually called his cell, and if Chris needed something he just walked over and said so. Jesse turned around and took the call. “Thank you for calling Meyer‟s Market, this is Jesse. How can I help you?” “Hi. I‟ve missed you,” Kevin said. “I‟m sorry, why are you calling me here? I‟m busy.” “Because I miss you. Don‟t you miss me?” Jesse shook his head. “No, Kevin, I don‟t. Look, I‟m on the clock. I have to go. Bye.” And he hung up. Ten minutes later, he was ringing up Mrs. O‟Malley when the PA system pinged overhead. “Call for Jesse Swanson, line three. Call holding line three for Jesse.” “You‟re a popular young man, today,” she said. Jesse pasted on a smile and nodded. “It seems like I am. Do you have any coupons, ma‟am?” “Oh yes, I do. One for the soap and one for the spinach. I like that young man, Christopher? In the produce section. He‟s wonderfully polite.” He took the slips of newsprint and scanned them, a real smile crossing his face. “That‟s nice to hear, thank you. I‟ll be sure to tell Chris you said so.” He pressed the enter key a

First Flight | Connor Wright 103 couple of times. “All right, that comes to twenty-seven fiftynine.” Once Mrs. O‟Malley had taken her groceries, he picked up the phone and pressed the button next to the note that said Line 3. “Thank you for calling Meyer‟s Market, this is Jesse. How can I help you?” “Are you busy now?” “Yeah, I am. I‟m at work. Do you need something?” “I just needed to hear your voice and tell you that I miss you. That I think we should get back together.” “Okay, well, that‟s not going to happen and I‟ve got to get back to work.” Jesse hung up without further ceremony.

JESSE checked the screen of his phone, despite the fact that it was playing the Mom and Dad ringtone. It was indeed his home number, so he answered it. “Hey, Chris.” “Hi. Um. Kevin was standing outside the store when I went home. He asked me where you were. I said you were inside, but I didn‟t say anything else.” Jesse blinked and put what was left of his cookie back in the bag with its brethren. “Uh, that‟s bizarre. Did he try to hit you again or anything?” “No, he was just standing there. I looked to see if he was following me, but he wasn‟t.” “This is getting creepier,” Jesse said. “Thanks for telling me. If he comes over to the house, pretend you‟re not home and don’t let him in, okay?” “Okay. Does he have a key?” Chris put his hand in his pocket and closed it around the set of keys he carried.

First Flight | Connor Wright 104 “No, thank God. I never gave him one.” He sighed and checked his watch. “I gotta let you go, ‟cause I‟ve gotta get back out front. I‟ll see you later, okay?” “Okay. Have a good afternoon.” “I‟ll try. You too.”

“I‟M HOME,” Jesse called, kicking off his shoes. “In here,” Chris said, from the living room. “Baseball is on.” “Yeah? Who‟s playing?” Jesse wandered in and plunked down beside Chris, then flopped over into his lap. “You‟re comfy.” “Birds,” Chris said, tilting his head and looking down at him. “Blue jays and orioles. I am?” “I didn‟t know birds liked baseball,” Jesse said, reaching up to touch Chris‟s face. “Yeah. Uh, did Kevin come over or anything?” “I like baseball,” Chris said, amused. He put his hand on Jesse‟s face, mirroring his actions. “Comfy is a good thing, right? No, he didn‟t. I didn‟t see him, and no one knocked or rang the bell.” “Well, yes, but you‟re an odd bird,” he said, patting Chris. Then he moved his hands and wriggled into a more upright position. “Yeah, it‟s good. And so‟s no one at the door. C‟mere.” Jesse pulled him close and kissed him, humming approval as Chris‟s lips parted and he kissed back. Chris put aside all thoughts of oddness, birds, baseball, and ex-boyfriends as Jesse‟s hands got into his hair, as

First Flight | Connor Wright 105 Jesse‟s mouth moved against his own. “I like kissing,” Chris said, when Jesse let him go to adjust his position again. “Can we— Mm.” He slipped his tongue past Jesse‟s lips, opening his eyes as Jesse picked lifted a hand and set it on Chris‟s leg. “Hm?” “Wanna touch,” Jesse said, putting his hands on the top button of Chris‟s shirt. “Can I?” “Yes,” Chris said, nodding enthusiastically, “please!” Jesse kissed the edge of his jaw as he worked the first button free. “You can touch me, if you want.” “Okay,” Chris said and began patting his way up Jesse‟s leg. He found Jesse‟s shirt and buttons, his own fingers making short work of them. “Before, you touched me… here?” His hands settled over Jesse‟s chest, all warm curves and soft fabric over skin he wanted to see, wanted to feel. There was something else, small rounded irregularities, and he smoothed his palms over them. “Mm, yeah, that‟s good,” Jesse said, tugging at the hem of Chris‟s undershirt. “You liked that, didn‟t you?” “Uh-huh,” Chris said, as Jesse‟s hands slid up under fabric and then fingertips closed on him, pinching. The sensation was far from painful. “Yes, that.” “Sounds silly, but I like that you like it,” he said, bending forward so he could kiss Chris again. More than that, however, he loved hearing the sounds Chris made; couldn‟t wait to discover what else Chris liked. Chris was just pulling Jesse‟s shirt free of his pants when the phone rang. “Dammit,” Jesse sighed and gave Chris a quick kiss. “Might be Mom.”

First Flight | Connor Wright 106 “Right,” Chris said, and let him go, watching as Jesse picked up the handset from the coffee table. “Swanson residence,” Jesse said. “Hi, Jesse,” Kevin said. “Hi. Is there something I can do for you?” “Yeah, there is. Go out with me tonight?” “No. That‟s not— Look, you and I both know that it‟s over and done, okay? It didn‟t work out. I‟m not going out with you, not tonight, not tomorrow, not again.” “Come on, Jesse, let‟s give it another try. Please? I‟ll be better about things. I‟ll be good. You‟ll love me. I‟ll let you hold my hand and everything.” “No. Find someone else.” Chris shifted on the couch, distracted from the replay of an unassisted double play. Why was Kevin calling Jesse? “I don‟t want someone else, I want you.” “I don‟t care. Stop calling me.” Jesse hung up and put the phone on the cushion beside him, then looked at Chris. “That was Kevin?” “Yeah, that‟s the third time today,” Jesse grumbled, trying to remember that more pleasant things were to be had. “He wants to get back together again.” “Oh.” That was a bad thing, wasn‟t it? Chris didn‟t like the idea, but he wasn‟t sure how to say it. He also wasn‟t sure if boyfriends was a one-at-a-time thing, like mates, or if it was different entirely. “Chris….” Jesse slipped off the couch and knelt before him, his hands on Chris‟s knees. “Christopher, this is really important, okay? I don‟t tell people. When I say I love you, it‟s not something—” He huffed, then started over. “I never

First Flight | Connor Wright 107 told Kevin that I loved him. I never really felt, I don‟t know, I never felt like I do when it comes to me and you, which sounds kind of dumb, but anyway. That‟s part of why I broke up with him, too, because I didn‟t think—I mean, after a little over a year, you‟d think I would love him, and I didn‟t.” Well, that was interesting. Chris looked up from Jesse‟s hands. “So you will not get back together with him?” “No, and especially not after he hit you. I can forgive him for the fight I started, but not that.” Jesse patted Chris, then stretched up to kiss him again. He slid his hands over the tops of Chris‟s thighs, then straight up under his shirt to his nipples, which he pinched once more. After a minute or so, Chris turned his head a little. “Jesse? Can I touch you again?” “Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry,” Jesse said, getting to his feet. He knelt astride Chris‟s lap, catching Chris‟s chin and kissing him a little more insistently. There was something about the way Jesse felt, sitting on him as he was, that reminded him of Saturday night. Chris couldn‟t really figure out what it was, and he was too busy getting Jesse‟s shirt up so he could finally see what he was touching besides. Not that he could see, not with Jesse kissing him, sucking on his lower lip and gently biting. “Jesse….” “What, too hard?” He leaned back and touched Chris‟s bottom lip. “No, it was just strange.” Chris went to lick his lips and ran into Jesse‟s finger; Jesse moved it up a little. Without even really thinking about it, Chris tipped his head and sucked it into his mouth. “Oh my God,” Jesse breathed, closing his eyes. “Uh,

First Flight | Connor Wright 108 Chris?” “Hm?” Jesse‟s finger was dry at first, salty and with a faint hint of soap. It wasn‟t terribly appetizing, but the way Jesse was reacting was intriguing. He‟d gone very still, his mouth open and breath short. “We gotta move. Upstairs would be good.” He hoped he could make it upstairs. Probably, as long as Chris followed him. “Okay?” He moved his head, letting Jesse‟s finger slip out of his mouth, not really interested in going anywhere. “What‟s upstairs?” “Bed,” Jesse said, getting up. He held his hands out to Chris. “More comfortable and roomier than the couch.” “Okay,” he said, letting Jesse help pull him upright. Sometimes they napped, but that was normally on Saturday afternoons. “Are you tired?” “Not in the least,” Jesse said, holding Chris‟s right hand and pulling him toward the stairs. “No, uh, I want to get naked with you and it‟s not a good idea to do it in the living room. If you want to, I mean.” “Oh.” Jesse wanted to get naked. With him. He had no idea what that really meant, but the little voice inside him approved wholeheartedly. “Then we must go upstairs. Now.” Jesse laughed, and the two of them scrambled up the steps, crashing into one another in the doorway. Jesse caught Chris before he could fall and kissed him, Chris pushed Jesse against the doorjamb with his hips, and then they were standing in the middle of their room. “Naked,” Chris said, but he frowned a little. “Yeah, naked together,” Jesse said, “but what?” Maybe

First Flight | Connor Wright 109 Chris had changed his mind? “Should I take off my clothes? Or will you?” “Oh,” Jesse shrugged and grinned at him, “I don‟t care. Do you want me to undress you? I will.” “Okay,” he said, nodding at the other young man. Maybe it didn‟t matter. “Great,” Jesse said, and started getting Chris out of his clothes. “Heh, been a while since I did this.” Helping Chris with his clothes when they‟d first met hadn‟t been the same, since he‟d been diligently ignoring Chris‟s body. “I‟ve never done this,” Chris said, slightly muffled as his undershirt covered his face. “I like it so far.” “Right.” Jesse dropped the shirt on the floor, then unbuttoned Chris‟s pants. “And you‟ll tell me if you don‟t like something, right?” “I don‟t like having my pants on,” Chris said, then laughed at himself. “Well, there, now they can come off,” Jesse said, smiling as the zipper tab reached the bottom of Chris‟s fly. “Good. I don‟t like you having your pants on either. I want to see, please.” He put his hands on Jesse‟s waistband, his lower lip protruding as he concentrated on getting the button open. “And now I can get mine off,” Jesse said, wiggling a little. “I want to— Is it okay, if I look?” He‟d seen Jesse without clothes before, when they were getting ready for bed or dressing in the morning, but that was different. This was naked together, and naked together with kissing. “Yeah! Yeah, that‟s fine.” Jesse took a step back and

First Flight | Connor Wright 110 held his arms out to either side. “Look all you want. Touch all you want, whatever.” Chris tipped his head and gestured at Jesse. “But I can‟t see. Pants!” Jesse laughed and shook his head, hooking his thumbs in the waistbands of his pants and underwear alike. “It‟s only fair, since I can‟t see you either.” “Oh.” Chris skinned out of the rest of his clothes and put his hands on his hips. “Now you can.” “Okay, okay,” Jesse said, as he got undressed. “There.” “Tell me again why yours is different, please?” Chris looked down, then back and forth between their bodies. “My—oh, right,” Jesse nodded and glanced down at his erection, “because I‟m circumcised and you‟re not.” “Right.” He stepped over his clothes, closing the distance between them. Chris looked up as his curious fingers touched Jesse‟s belly, his attention drawn by the odd sound that the other young man had made. “Okay?” “You‟re fine,” Jesse said, then bit his lip as Chris‟s hand dropped onto his cock. “Mm.” He spent a lot of the following few minutes with his lip between his teeth and his hands curled up, while Chris touched him all over. “You…. Hm. Like this….” Chris murmured to himself as he knelt on the carpet, one hand still wrapped around Jesse. “And then like this.” “Oh,” Jesse said, folding his hands together on top of his head, “God.” “God?” Chris sat back and looked up. The look on Chris‟s face—right, he‟d never done this before. Jesse brushed Chris‟s hair back and said, “You‟re

First Flight | Connor Wright 111 perfect, I swear. If you want to keep go—oh-kay.” He yanked his hand back to keep from spoiling the moment. Meanwhile, his little voice was busy wondering why Chris was trying to eat Jesse when he was not food. Chris ignored it because Jesse had done it to him, he‟d liked it, and he was trying to see if he could fit all of Jesse into his mouth. “Chris,” Jesse said, gently putting his hands on dark hair, “Chris, you need to stop. Please.” God, Chris‟s nose was right up against his skin and he could feel Chris‟s tongue, there at the base of his dick; if he didn‟t stop— Chris sat back once more, disappointed and worried. “What‟s the matter?” “C‟mere.” Jesse leaned over and helped him to his feet, then kissed him. “I just, uh, I just didn‟t want to hurt you. It felt amazing, but I didn‟t want to, y‟know, forget that you‟re kind of new at this.” “Okay,” Chris said, more puzzled than mollified. “Did I hurt you, last time?” “No! No, it‟s just that I didn‟t want to pull your hair or anything.” “Oh! I see.” He nodded, then stood on his toes to kiss Jesse again. Jesse pulled Chris up against himself, sliding his hands over pale skin as he deepened the kiss. “Jesse? Did you still want to get in bed?” “Yeah,” Jesse said, then cleared his throat. “Yes. That would be great.” Chris bounced on his toes, then scrambled into Jesse‟s bed. He closed his eyes as the smell that was Jesse filled his

First Flight | Connor Wright 112 senses, wrapping around him and making the little voice say things like more! and so good and right and mine. He leaned over and gently pushed at Chris‟s shoulder, then crawled up onto bed and boyfriend alike, a pleased sound escaping him as their cocks touched. “Good,” Chris said, then hummed and pushed himself up against Jesse. It felt… it was beyond words, the way it felt to have so much of Jesse‟s skin touching him, to be rubbing against him. It was like Saturday but so much more, so much better, that he couldn‟t think of anything else. “More. More?” “Ah,” Jesse held himself still, eyes closed for a few moments. “More how? Like this?” He let Chris bear a little more of his weight, tilting his hips so that their cocks slid together. His fingers curled into the sheet as Chris moaned and thrust up against him in response. God, he wanted so much more than just this, wanted to taste Chris again, wanted wanted wanted. Jesse also did not want. He didn‟t want to push Chris into anything, didn‟t want to push too far too fast. Not like he had with the kiss under the tree. “Kiss me,” Chris gasped, running his hands over Jesse‟s body, trying to touch as much as he could reach. “Kiss me and do that again.” “Okay,” Jesse said, and leaned down. The kiss was sloppy, all need and no grace, their bodies rising and falling together as thought was subsumed by desire. Chris‟s hands swept over him, leaving an electric thrill in their wake, and Jesse was losing what was left of his self-control. Chris couldn‟t keep kissing Jesse. There was something coiling, pushing, driving him to arch up and pull Jesse down and he could not get enough.

First Flight | Connor Wright 113 Jesse could feel it, in the way Chris was tensing beneath him, could hear it in every needy pant. “C‟mon, Chris,” he said, grinding down, “c‟mon, c‟mon.” That was it, what he needed, just that much more friction and Chris cried out as he slipped away, into a fiery brilliance that held him close. Jesse put his head down and redoubled his efforts, mumbling against the side of Chris‟s neck. “Please, please, pleasepleaseplease—God, God—” He came, shuddering and gasping. As his orgasm faded, he went boneless, draped over Chris. “Jesse?” Chris‟s voice was soft. He slid off to Chris‟s left. “Hm.” Jesse knew they should really get up and shower before his parents came home, but it was really, really nice to just lie there. “Jesse, that was, that was liver and brains and flying and eggs all at once,” he said, swiping fingers through the viscous stuff on his skin. He sucked them clean and hummed. “You taste good.” “That good?” Jesse made an amused sound. “I do? You‟re not bad yourself.” “Maybe better. But eggs and liver are very good. Hm.” He turned over and kissed Jesse, briefly. “Good. Now what?” He laughed. “I‟ll help you compare them whenever you want,” he said. “Now… we should clean up and put on some clothes, at least before Mom and Dad get home.” “Good, because I will need to. I might forget which is best.” He grinned brightly, then sighed in contentment. “All right. But first I think I will kiss you again.” “And that would be bad.” Chris‟s kiss forestalled further conversation, not that Jesse cared.

First Flight | Connor Wright 114 The phone rang again, in the middle of everything. Chris grumbled and picked up the handset, passing it over to Jesse. “Uh, hey, Swanson‟s,” he said, hoping he didn‟t sound too winded. “Aw, did you run to answer the phone? See, I knew you‟d change your mind about me.” “No. I didn‟t. I haven‟t. I won’t. Stop calling.” He hung up, his pleasant mood shattered. “Kevin, again?” Chris sat up and pulled his legs in, wrapping his arms around them. “I don‟t like that.” “I don‟t, either,” Jesse said, looking at him. “Come on, let‟s go get cleaned up and see who‟s winning the game.”

“HELLO, Swanson‟s,” Leanna said, her mouth turning down as the caller spoke. “Yes, he‟s right here. Just a moment. Jesse, it‟s Kevin, for you.” “I‟m eating dinner,” Jesse said, but he got up and went into the kitchen anyhow. “What?” Leanna‟s brows pinched together as she returned to the table, but she didn‟t say anything. “Jesse, come on. I‟m gonna change, you‟ll see. I‟ll come out to everyone! And then you‟ll be happy, right? Come back to me. I‟ll let you fuck me.” “No. I‟m not interested. I‟ve got to go, it‟s dinner time. Bye.” He hung up and sat down again, scowling at his peas. “You told him not to call,” Chris said, turning his favorite spoon over and over again. “But he did.” “Yeah, I know,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “Kevin‟s been calling you? I thought you broke up with

First Flight | Connor Wright 115 him,” Desmond said, pulling the pot roast toward himself. “I did. He doesn‟t seem to feel the same way, and he keeps trying to convince me to come back to him.” Jesse shrugged. “I don‟t want to. And I‟m not available anyhow, and even if I was I wouldn‟t be for him. So, um, if he calls back in the future, I‟m not around or available or whatever.” “Not available?” Desmond‟s brows rose. “Um.” Jesse ducked his head and raised his shoulders. “Um, Chris and I, we‟re going out. I asked him a little while ago. After I told you we weren‟t.” “Ah.” Desmond looked back and forth between the two of them. “Okay. Just….” “I know, you don‟t wanna know,” Jesse said. “Right,” Desmond said, waving a hand. “You don‟t wanna know about me and your mother, so it‟s only fair.” Jesse laughed. “Yeah, that‟s true,” he said. “Why not?” Chris said, looking up from stacking slices of his potatoes au gratin. “Because they‟re my parents,” Jesse said, making a face. “I love them, but I don‟t want to know anything more than they still love one another.” “Okay,” Chris said, pressing his fork through the stack and lifting it from his plate. He still didn‟t really understand it, but apparently “no details” applied to why as well. “I‟d be the same way if you were, uh, dating a girl,” Desmond said with a shrug. “Just so you know.”

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Chapter Sixteen “GOOD morning!” Kevin smiled and waved at the two who approached him. “Good morning,” Chris said politely, though he was not at all pleased to see the other man. “Go home, Kevin,” Jesse said, scowling at him. “I don‟t know why you‟re here, but if it‟s to ask me—” “No! I‟m here to apologize.” He looked sad, hanging his head and folding his hands together. “To Chris.” “Apologize?” Chris frowned. “Why?” “For hitting you. For the whole produce thing. I‟m sorry. I shouldn‟t have done that. Will you forgive me?” He looked up, eyes wide and face guileless. Jesse frowned but kept his mouth shut. Chris deserved the apology, and he could just keep his doubt about Kevin‟s sincerity to himself. “You should not have,” Chris agreed with a nod. “Okay.” “Thanks! So, maybe we could be friends?” There was something about the way Kevin spoke that bothered Chris, but Leanna‟s examples of politeness overrode his discomfort. “I don‟t know,” he said. “Maybe?” “That would be awesome,” Kevin said, smiling and nodding. “We could go to the movies tonight!” Chris looked at Jesse, then shook his head. “I don‟t think so,” he said. “I have to work tomorrow morning. I can‟t be up late.”

First Flight | Connor Wright 117 “Maybe tomorrow night?” Kevin leaned forward, a bit of anxiety on his face. “Or this afternoon? You still have the afternoon off, right?” “I‟m going to be late,” Chris said, gesturing at the building beside them as Jesse pulled at his sleeve. “So is Jesse. We have to go.” “Okay, sure,” Kevin said. “I‟ll ask you later, okay? Have a good day!” “Yeah, sure, you too,” Jesse said and tugged Chris along as they went into the store. “That was strange,” Chris said, looking over his shoulder, just in case. “Is he sick?” “Sick? I don‟t know,” Jesse said, “but he‟s definitely creepy. I don‟t think you should go anywhere with him, especially not alone.” “I don‟t want to,” Chris said. The idea of being alone with Kevin made him want to hide or put his back up against a wall so that he could see everyone and everything. “I will not.” “Glad to hear it.” Jesse sighed, then turned his thoughts toward more cheerful topics. “Let‟s go out for lunch, okay? I‟ll drive you home after.” “Out? Oh! Could we go to Betzalel‟s Deli?” Chris closed his eyes for a moment of contemplative bliss. “Liverwurst.” Jesse laughed and nodded. “Sure thing.”

“CALL holding line two for Christopher. Call holding line two Christopher.” “Hello?”

First Flight | Connor Wright 118 “Hi, Chris,” a vaguely familiar voice said. “So how about that movie?” “Um, I‟m sorry, who are you?” A few girls had tried to invite him to movies, but the voice was a man‟s. It wasn‟t Jesse‟s, either; maybe it was Jesse‟s friend Lucas? “It‟s me. Kevin. You didn‟t recognize me?” “I‟m sorry, you sounded different. I didn‟t know it was Jesse the first time he called on the phone.” Kevin. He wondered if it would be a bad thing to just hang up. “Oh! That‟s okay then. So, we‟re still going to the movies this afternoon, right?” “Um….” Chris tried to remember agreeing to go. “I don‟t want to.” “But we‟re friends,” Kevin said, sounding hurt. “Why not?” “We aren‟t friends. I said maybe, that is, not are. And I do not know you. I do not like you. I do not like the way you make me feel. I do not want to go anywhere with you.” Chris hung up and rubbed his hands on his apron, unsettled. “Excuse me,” a woman‟s voice said from behind him. He jumped slightly and turned around. “How can I help you?” Chris tried to smile. “I was just wondering if you knew anything about avocados,” she said, holding out a couple of them. Her hair was a strange mixture of dark brown, caramel, and bright pink. “I‟m supposed to be making guacamole for a party tonight, and I can‟t remember how to tell if they‟re ripe or not.” The business of fruit and vegetables helped to restore some of his usual calm. “Um, yes. Let‟s see. They‟re ripe if,

First Flight | Connor Wright 119 when you squeeze them, they‟re very faintly squishy.” Chris took the avocado from her left hand and squeezed it gently. “This one seems about right.” “And this one, too,” she said, holding up the other one with a smile. “Great, thanks so much.” “You are welcome,” he said, solemnly handing over the avocado. “Liverwurst, liverwurst, liverwurst,” Chris sang to himself, ten minutes later, as he straightened up the carrots. “Livery livery liverwurst.” “You like liverwurst?” “Yeeark!” Chris jerked around, hands and a carrot held up in front of him. “Oh, it‟s you. Are you shopping for fruit or vegetables?” Kevin shook his head. “No. I came by to see you. Do you like liverwurst? I could get you some.” “I hate liverwurst,” Chris said, even though part of him didn‟t want to. “I just like the way the word sounds. You don‟t have to get me anything. Is there anything I can help you with?” “What kind of things do you like? I‟ll get you those instead,” Kevin said, moving closer to Chris. “You can help me, sure. If I‟m nice to you, Jesse will love me again.” “You don‟t have to get me anything and I don‟t want you to be nice to me,” Chris said, backing up and putting the carrot down. “I want you to go away, please.” “Why are you so mean? Why do you hate me?” Kevin glared at him, crossing his arms and taking another step forward. “What did I ever do to you?” “I don‟t hate you!” Chris shook his head and backed up

First Flight | Connor Wright 120 again. “But I am not your friend. You scare me. I don‟t like that. And you hit me.” “I‟m a nice guy,” Kevin said, stepping forward again, ignoring the last statement. “Come on, hang out with me. You want to go to lunch? To the movies, or to a bar? Anywhere you want, we can go.” “I—” Chris looked around and spotted Mr. Bunting frowning at the broccoli. “I need to help Mr. Bunting. Excuse me.” He turned and hurried off toward the older man. “Christopher!” Mr. Bunting smiled at him. “I was just thinking about finding you. I want to have a word with you about cauliflower.”

“HEY, ready to go?” Jesse smiled at Chris and headed for his own locker. “Yes please,” he said, pulling his jacket on without bothering to remove his apron. “Now.” “Okay,” Jesse said, giving him a funny look. “Is everything all right?” “Kevin came to see me.” Chris crossed his arms and looked at the floor. “Can we go now?” “God,” Jesse groaned, slinging his jacket over his shoulder. “Yeah, let‟s get out of here.” Fifteen minutes later, Chris was leaning against him as they waited for their sandwiches. “He scares me,” he said. “Yeah? I‟m not excited about him, either,” Jesse said. He sighed and moved so he could put his arm around the other man. “But I don‟t know what we can do about it. I mean, he‟s not doing anything really wrong, so it‟s not like we can call

First Flight | Connor Wright 121 the police.” “He wanted me to go to the movies. He wanted to bring me liverwurst, so I told him I hate it.” Chris wished he could kiss Jesse, but his little voice told him not to. “I said I didn‟t want to go. He said if he was nice to me you would love him again.” “That is very wrong,” Jesse said, his stomach complaining at him with hunger and stress alike. “So wrong I can‟t even tell you how wrong it is.” “You said you did not love him,” Chris said, worry gnawing at him. “Did—” “I didn’t,” Jesse said, his arm tightening around Chris‟s shoulders. “And no matter what he says, I‟m not going to love him. Because he‟s being an asshole and he‟s scaring you and, honestly, he‟s kind of scaring me too.” “Okay,” Chris said. He looked up and spotted a waitress with a tray coming their way. “Food!”

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Chapter Seventeen CHRIS squinted at the nightstand, where Jesse‟s phone was ringing. He reached over and answered. “H‟llo?” “Chris! Thank God. Is Jesse there? I need to talk to him.” “Wha‟time‟s it?” Chris rubbed his face with his free hand and stared at the clock until it came into focus. “Is two thirty. Um. Jesse‟s‟sleep. Bye.” He pressed the key that made the phone hang up and put it back on the table. A minute later, Chris jumped as the silence was fractured by the ringing of the house phone. He grabbed the handset and answered. “Swanson!” “I need to talk to Jesse. Right now. It‟s a matter of life and death.” “Jesse‟s asleep,” Chris said, as quietly as he could. “Quit callin‟. Time to sleep.” “Fine. But I‟m going to kill myself.” “Okay.” Chris hung up and dropped the phone on the floor, then turned over and snuggled up to Jesse. “Phone?” Jesse mumbled, pulling Chris close with an arm and a leg thrown over him. “Mm.” “Kevin,” Chris sighed, almost asleep again. The phone rang again. Jesse whined, and Chris actually said, “Fuck.” He turned over and tried to find the handset, but the ringing stopped just as his hand closed over it. “Wrong number?” Jesse hoped so, because the idea that

First Flight | Connor Wright 123 maybe his parents had answered the phone was not one he wanted to think about. “Maybe?” Chris sighed again and put the phone back on the table, then turned over once more. “C‟mere.” “Hm, gotta behave,” Jesse muttered, even as he bumped his nose against Chris‟s. “Gotta go back t‟sleep.” “I know,” Chris said, just before he let the pull of sleep drag him down once more. Six hours later, the phone rang again. Jesse almost decided not to answer, but he checked the caller ID just in case. “G‟morning, Mom.” “Hi, sweetie. Um, Kevin called this morning, about two thirty,” Leanna said. “You need to talk to him and make him understand that he can‟t do that again.” “God, I‟m sorry,” he said, stirring sugar into his coffee. “I‟ll see what I can do, okay? I‟m really sorry.” “I know, and it‟s not like you asked him to,” she said. “But he doesn‟t seem to be listening to either me or your dad.”

“CALL holding line three, Jesse. Call on line three for Jesse.” Bracing himself, Jesse turned around and answered. “Thank you for calling Meyer‟s Market, this is Jesse, how may I help you?” “Thank God! It‟s finally you.” “Kevin—” “Look, Jesse, I need you back in my life. I just can‟t really live without you.” “You‟re going to have to, because I‟m not interested. And

First Flight | Connor Wright 124 if you call the house in the middle of the night again, my dad‟s gonna be really pissed off. So don‟t do it.” “Please. Jesse, God, you‟re all I can think about. You‟re the only one I can really trust; you‟re the only one I can love. Please.” “No. I don‟t love you. I won‟t love you. You scare Chris, you wake up my parents, and you‟re creeping me out. Stop. Fucking. Calling. Me.” Jesse hung up. Two minutes passed without anything more interesting than a kid with green hair wandering by. “Call holding line two, Jesse.” He took a deep breath and tried to sound polite and professional as he answered. “Thank you for calling—” “You have to come back to me.” “No, I don’t. Nothing you can say will „make‟ me want to go out with you again, Kevin,” Jesse said, “and I am at work. I cannot waste any more time on this.” “I‟m going to kill myself.” “What?” “If you don‟t come back to me, I‟ll kill myself. But you don‟t love me enough to care whether I live or die, right?” “I—” Jesse shook his head. He couldn‟t remember if Kevin had been as excitable when they‟d been dating, at least before everything had disintegrated over the fact that Jesse had made a new friend. They‟d had their arguments, sure, but nothing like this. “You can‟t be serious.” “I‟m very serious,” he said, a rattling noise in the background. “I‟ve got pills. I‟ll take them all and kill myself and it will be all your fault.” “Stop it. This is stupid, okay? We broke up. Because you

First Flight | Connor Wright 125 were being an asshole about Christopher. It wasn‟t the end of the world, okay? There are lots of other guys out there. Go find one of them.” Jesse watched a couple stroll past his checkstand, their basket full. They ignored his silent pleading to come over and get him out of the conversation. “I don‟t want anyone else, Jesse, I want you. I need you, Jesse. You‟re the only one who understands me. What it‟s like to be me. You always made it better, Jesse.” “There are plenty of other guys who‟re in the same boat, I swear to God,” Jesse said, guilt and pity stinging him though he knew Kevin was trying to manipulate him. “Look, I have to go. I‟m at work and I need to help someone out, here. Goodbye, Kevin.” He hung up. “Jesse to customer service, please. Jesse to customer service.” Jesse groaned as Tanner‟s voice summoned him, then locked his register and headed over. “Here I am.” “Hey. Look, you‟ve been getting a lot of personal calls, lately—” He held up his hands and shook his head. “No, Tanner, I haven‟t. Because the only people who are supposed to be calling me here? Are Chris and my parents. And they call my cell, which I don’t answer, and when I can I call them back. These calls? I don’t want them.” Jesse crossed his arms and shifted from foot to foot. “Look, this guy? He‟s my... exboyfriend. And I broke up with him months ago. Next time he calls, just hang up on him, okay?” “Okay,” Tanner said, nodding at him. “Is, uh, everything all right?” “He‟s just being a pest,” Jesse said, rolling his eyes. “He called, like, three times in the middle of the night last night.

First Flight | Connor Wright 126 He woke up my parents, which is so very uncool that there may not actually be a word for it.” “That sounds like more than a pest,” Ellen said, shrugging at him. “All right, we‟ll let everyone know that this guy—what‟s his name?” “Kevin. Kevin Woods,” Jesse said, rubbing his face again. “Okay. So, Kevin should not be passed on to you, but rather disconnected,” Tanner said. He crossed his arms and considered Jesse for a moment. “It‟s a good thing you‟re a valuable employee.” “Thank you. I‟m really sorry about this, Tanner,” Jesse said.

“HEY, Chris.” “Hi. Kevin‟s standing in front of the house.” “What?” Jesse leaned forward and rested his head on the steering wheel. “Why?” “I don‟t know why. Should I go ask?” “No!” Jesse sat up again. “No, I didn‟t expect you to know, sorry. Don‟t go near him. Is he doing anything, or is he just standing there?” “He‟s just standing there. He‟s been there since just after you left.” Chris peered through the tiny hole in the blinds where the cord ran through. There was Kevin, standing on the sidewalk, staring at the front of the house. “That‟s all.” “Okay. I‟m coming straight home. If he comes to the

First Flight | Connor Wright 127 door, you‟re not home, okay?” “I do not like this, Jesse. Can we make him go away?” Chris had always thought of the house as an incredible fortress, a warm and unusually shaped nest. He wanted to go out and drive Kevin away; wanted to run at him and shout and— Well, pecking at him was impossible, but he could figure out a suitable replacement. “I should… I should make him go away. Protect you, protect our nest. Then you would see I am strong and trustable and good.” “I already love you,” Jesse said, touched despite the strangeness of the idea. “I‟m beginning to think we need to talk to the police about this. Anyhow, no, stay inside. I‟ll be right there, okay?” “Okay,” Chris said, but he wasn‟t happy about it. Then it occurred to him that if Jesse wasn‟t home, he would miss Chris‟s display of fitness, which would defeat the whole point. “I will stay in. Drive carefully.” “I will, I promise.” Five minutes later, Jesse leaned against the side of his car. “Kevin, go home. Neither Chris nor I are interested in any sort of relationship with you. You need to quit hanging around, and you really need to quit calling.” “I can‟t,” Kevin said, walking toward him. “I can‟t, because I love you. I need you. Can‟t you see, Jesse? We‟re meant for one another!” “No, we‟re not,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “Go home.” “Yes, we are. Why can‟t you see it?” Kevin glared and put his hands on his hips. “You‟re just like everyone else, like your mom and dad, and those people at the store, and even goddamn Chris. No one else can see it, either, but I

First Flight | Connor Wright 128 know. We‟re supposed to be together forever.” Jesse rubbed his face with both hands. “I don‟t know why. And you know, I never loved you. I‟m not going to love you. Go home, or I‟ll have to call the cops.” “If you call the cops, you‟ll be sorry,” Kevin said, turning around. “You‟ll see. You‟ll all be sorry.” “If you leave, then I won‟t have to,” Jesse said, watching him go. “Leave us alone, Kevin. Go find someone else.”

“WOULD you like something to eat?” Chris said as Jesse came in from the mud room. Even if he couldn‟t protect his home, he could at least feed Jesse. “Not really, thanks.” Jesse looked at Chris, taking his time, studying the way his face was put together and the way the light fell on his hair. He looked perfectly normal, if rather pale. “What?” Chris tilted his head as he noticed Jesse‟s regard. “Nothing,” he said, smiling at him. “I just like looking at you.” “Jesse?” There was something about the tone of Chris‟s voice that disrupted the pleasant flow of his thoughts. “What‟s the matter?” “I just need to do something, to show you I‟m right. That I‟m the best one, the right one, for you.” Chris fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt. “Unless people don‟t do that? Is there only one who finds the food and builds the nest and protects it?”

First Flight | Connor Wright 129 “Oh, that’s it,” Jesse said, blinking at him. He‟d spent part of the afternoon trying to figure out the difference between Kevin‟s issues and Chris‟s apparent previous life as a bird, wondering why Chris didn‟t bother him, but Kevin did. “You‟re logical and you make sense. And to answer your question, it depends. Some people think that men are supposed to provide all the money and housing and stuff, while women are supposed to stay home and raise the children. Other people think it doesn‟t matter who does what, as long as it gets done.” “I do?” It seemed to be a good thing, so he decided not to worry about it. “But what about you? And am I not supposed to do anything? For you?” “Yeah, you do. You think about things like a bird does, but like I said, it all still makes sense.” Jesse waved the words away and closed the distance between them. “I‟m glad you said something,” he said, slipping his arms around Chris, trying to soothe away his unhappiness and uncertainty. “Me, I‟m more of a „let‟s decide who‟ll do what and then do it‟ kind of guy. And if you want to do something to show me you‟re right for me, then I won‟t stop you. It‟s just that you don‟t have to prove anything to me, okay? Because I‟ve already accepted you, or agreed, or whatever. I wouldn‟t have asked you to be my boyfriend, wouldn‟t have wanted to kiss you or anything, if I hadn‟t. Okay?” “Okay,” Chris said, “and I know you asked me, and that was a good thing. But something tells me to do this, inside.” “Instinct again?” Jesse kissed him on the cheek and stepped back. “That‟s all right, then. I—” The phone rang.

First Flight | Connor Wright 130 “I don‟t want it to be Kevin,” Chris said, frowning at the phone. “I‟ll see who it is.” Jesse sighed and walked over to check the caller ID, brightening as he recognized the number. “Oh, good. Hi, Mom.” “Hi, sweetie. Have you and Chris eaten, yet?” “No. I just got home and Chris offered to make me something to eat, but we haven‟t.” “Oh, good. Your dad called me and said he wants to stop by Salvatore‟s on his way home.” “Ooh, Salvatore‟s?” “Mazzafegati!” Chris said, bouncing a little. “Please.” “Chris would love some mazzafegati, please. Me, I‟m happy with two loaves of garlic bread and a huge house salad.” Leanna laughed. “I‟ll let him know. Mazzafegati, bread, salad. Anything else?” “Just a sec,” Jesse said, then turned to Chris. “Is that all you want?” Chris grinned and nodded, his hands folded behind him. “I love mazzafegati.” Jesse smiled everything, Mom.”

and shook

his

head.

“Yeah,

that‟s

“All right, I‟ll go call him back, now. Love you.” “Thanks. Love you too.” “Mazzafegati, mazzafegati,” Chris said, rocking heel-toe, watching Jesse hang up. “Mazzafegati!” “You‟re so silly,” Jesse said, grinning at him. “Not just mazzafegati! Bread, too, and probably soup, and who knows what else?”

First Flight | Connor Wright 131 “Salad,” Chris said, smiling back. “You said.” “Well, yeah, but I meant—” The phone rang again. He looked at the little screen, but it said withheld. “Swanson residence.” A pause, and then a low voice said, “You‟ll be sorry. You‟ll see.” The line went dead. “Okay.” Jesse put the receiver back and looked at the phone as if it could offer an explanation. “That‟s not funny.” “What‟s not funny?” Chris‟s cheer faded at the look on Jesse‟s face. He gestured at the phone. “I think that was Kevin. He just said „You‟ll be sorry, you‟ll see‟ and hung up.” Chris crossed his arms. “What does that mean?” “I don‟t know.” Jesse sighed. “This isn‟t your fault, just so you know, okay? If he tries to blame anything on you, don‟t believe him or think that it is or anything. It‟s all his fault.” “Okay. Why would he say that?” “Because he was certain that you and I were sleeping together back when we first met,” Jesse said, rolling his eyes. “Never mind the fact that, you know, we weren‟t allowed to, plus at the time I wasn‟t thinking about you like that.” Or at least not more than in passing. “Why?” That was such a strange idea. “I didn‟t say anything. I didn‟t know that I even wanted you. I couldn’t say anything to him that would make him think that.” “I know. You know. And that‟s why I said this is not your fault,” Jesse said, putting his arms around Chris again. “Because he‟s the one who started imagining things.” “Leanna says having imagination is a good thing,” Chris

First Flight | Connor Wright 132 said, frowning even as he relaxed into the embrace. “But this isn‟t.” “She‟s talking about things like… like imagining what would happen if a talking dog became president, not this,” he said, patting Chris on the back. “It‟s one of those things, though. If you can imagine the dog, you can imagine your boyfriend cheating on you. The difference comes when you say something about being worried about the cheating.” Jesse let him go, stepping around him to wash his hands. “Cheating? Like at a game—no, this is the other cheating. Where you say you‟re going to the library, but you go on a date with someone who is not your boyfriend or girlfriend.” Chris watched Jesse, then took his place when the young man went to dry his hands. “Are we setting the table now?” “Right,” Jesse said, nodding as he opened the cabinet where the plates and bowls lived. “It‟s nice to surprise your parents every once in a while.” “I still don‟t understand that. Once you‟ve chosen someone and showed them you‟re the right one and they show you that they‟re right, too, then don‟t you stop thinking about others like that?” Chris dried his own hands, then took the plates that Jesse held out. “Not really, not for humans. But there‟s looking at someone and thinking, „huh, they‟re cute‟, and then there‟s going over to that person and saying „hey, you‟re cute, kiss me‟,” Jesse said, taking down some bowls and following Chris out to the dining room. “I‟m your boyfriend, but that guy who delivers the magazines at the store, mm.” “But you‟re my boyfriend, so you will not kiss him?” He set the plates out in their usual places.

First Flight | Connor Wright 133 “I‟m your boyfriend, I love you, and there‟s the little fact that he‟s completely straight and married besides,” Jesse said, putting the bowls on the table. “And after Kevin‟s freakout over you and me being friends, I am not interested in doing anything like that for real. I‟ve never been interested in it, actually.” “I didn‟t think you would.” Chris returned to the kitchen and picked out silverware. He hadn‟t even considered the possibility, either. The idea was as foreign to him as shoes had been. “Good.” Jesse crossed the kitchen and hooked a finger through one of Chris‟s belt loops, turning him away from the silverware drawer. “Hey.” His mouth was dry as the other young man looked up at him, Chris‟s gaze as direct and serious as it had been the first day they‟d met. “What?” “I couldn‟t. Ever. To do that—I‟ve been a jerk before, but to lie to you, like that….” He shook his head, his free hand rising and falling in a futile attempt to grasp the right words. “I know,” Chris said, the words backed by the quiet strength of his little voice. It had been unerring in its guidance, aside from the misadventure with Desmond‟s leftovers. Jesse rested his forehead against Chris‟s, a complicated mess of emotion keeping him silent for a moment. “God, it‟s a little scary how much you trust me,” he said at last. Certainty turned to dismay in the space between heartbeats. “I scare you?” “No, not you, just….” Jesse brushed a kiss across Chris‟s mouth, then moved back a little so they could actually see one another. “It‟s a good kind of scary. Don‟t

First Flight | Connor Wright 134 worry about it, okay?” “You‟re sure?” Chris looked at Jesse, but he seemed to be telling the truth. “Absolutely. Kevin is bad-scary, this isn‟t.” He kissed the corner of Chris‟s mouth, then let him go entirely. “Let‟s finish setting the table.” “All right.”

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Chapter Eighteen CHRIS was singing to himself as he walked home, a little song he‟d made up about Jesse being as good as a liverwurst-and-egg sandwich, when he noticed a car creeping along beside him. It stopped when he stopped; it moved when he began walking again. He stopped once more and bent over, peering through the open window. “Hi, Christopher,” Kevin said. “Oh, it‟s you.” Chris straightened up and started walking. “Come on, Chris, get in! I‟ll take you where you‟re going!” He stood still and leaned down, trying to stay polite. “No thank you.” “Jesse told me to come get you,” Kevin said. “Jesse doesn‟t want to talk to you,” Chris said and started walking again. The feeling that Kevin was somehow wrong, sort of like his brother Fell-from-tree, grew stronger. Kevin stepped on the gas and wrenched the wheel sideways, running his car up onto the sidewalk in front of the other man. He got out and sprinted around the front of his car, hands out in front of him. “You‟re coming with me,” he said. Startled, Chris froze and could do nothing but watch him approach. Anger and fear twisted around one another, filled his head and sent cold prickles down his back. This

First Flight | Connor Wright 136 was wrong, this was dangerous, this was a threat— Kevin threw up his hands as a bright flash of light enveloped Chris. There was a metallic clinking and a strange squawk, but the only thing he could see when he lowered his arms was a set of keys and some last bits of ash lying on the sidewalk. Sings-like-water made a tight circle, then let himself fall out of the sky, toward the man‟s head. Grim satisfaction settled in his chest as his claws found purchase in the vulnerable skin, as his heavy bill dove into the hair below and the man cried out. A blow to his side knocked him awry and he jumped away, laboring into the air to circle again. Kevin ran a hand through his hair and stared when it came back bloody. Kevin looked up, trying to find the bird that was attacking— So soft, so fragile, this uncovered pale skin. Sings-likewater dug his claws into the rubbery lips, flapping to keep his balance, and darted his head toward the thin skin covering gleaming tasty eyes. He ignored the sounds coming up from under his feet, though they were loud and irritating; all that mattered was driving this man away. Kevin flailed at the bird, and when he managed to shove it off of his face, he turned and ran for his car. He left smears of blood on the door as he gained the safety of the driver‟s seat. Frustration mingled with relief as Sings-like-water watched the door slam shut. Yes, the man was closer to going away than he had been; however, he was also protected. He made another tight circle, watching, watching. The car started and bumped back into the street, which was good. Away was good. The small glimmer of metal on the

First Flight | Connor Wright 137 dull expanse of concrete caught his eye again and he dropped down to land beside it. His keys! Kevin had not picked them up. He sidled over and closed his foot on them, then hopped, flapped, hopped again and climbed skyward. Sings-like-water aligned himself with sun and wind, taking a moment to savor the sweet joy of flight. The weight of the keys reminded him that he needed to find his… mate? No, they weren‟t yet mates. He needed to find his chosen one, his Jesse, who was at the store. The store was…that way.

“HELLO, raven!” Sings-like-water peered over the edge of the roof, surprised to see the woman with the pink and brown hair again. She waved, then disappeared under the overhang. He looked around again, but the parking lot was empty of people. He stepped off the metal flashing and fluttered to the asphalt, pausing there to pick the keys up in his beak before hopping toward the big glass doors. No one noticed him, as he hopped through the doors and into the area where the shopping carts were kept, because there was no one there. He walked up to the second set of doors, which opened for him, and then into the store proper. Oh, the smells! The air was a mélange of scents, most of them enticing. Meat and bread and fish and all kinds of other delicious things—Jesse. He had to find Jesse. Jesse first, and then food. He had forgotten what it was like to be smaller, to be unable to see from where he stood. There was an advantage to being a bird, though, and he simply flapped up to perch

First Flight | Connor Wright 138 on the top of the number-light of the nearest checkstand. “Birdy!” A little boy, sitting in a cart, pointed at the big black bird. His mother, busy with the latest issue of People, snapped her gum and said, “Uh-huh.” “Look, Mama, birdy!” He bounced in his seat and pointed. “Birdy!” “It‟s just a balloon,” she said, putting the magazine back and pushing the cart toward the deli. He waved. “Bye-bye, birdy! Bye-bye!” He‟d never had so many people speak to him before, at least not as a bird. It was strange, unsettling, but they didn‟t seem dangerous. Sings-like-water looked along the row of cash registers, seeking a familiar shape among the straight lines of man-made things. There! There he was, Jesse, only a half-dozen counters away. “Oh my goodness!” Mr. Bunting blinked and tipped his head toward Jesse. “Is that a friend of yours?” Jesse, who‟d had a vague impression of something large and dark passing by, looked up from scanning soup. “I‟m sorry, what?” “There‟s a raven behind you,” Bunting said, pointing beyond the young man. “I wonder how it got in here.” “Cr-criminy!” Jesse turned and looked at the bird, who was indeed perched on the wall separating him from the line for checkstand eight. “I don‟t know. I‟m sure he won‟t hurt anyone, though. Um,” he said, then frowned as he noticed the keys. He held out his hand, nodding as they fell into his palm. “And yes, I know him. As soon as I‟m finished helping you, Mr. Bunting, I‟ll take care of him.”

First Flight | Connor Wright 139 “Such a handsome bird,” Bunting said, admiring the glossy shine of his feathers under the lights. “Don‟t hurt him.” “I won‟t!” Jesse returned his attention to the man‟s groceries. “No, I‟ll be very careful with him.” It was boring, watching Jesse move things from one side to the other. There was food, though, a thick slab of dark red meat that went into a bag; a long loaf of bread that was set aside. He knew better than to try to eat things that weren‟t his and took the opportunity to preen instead. “All right, here‟s your receipt, Mr. Bunting. Have a good afternoon.” “Thank you, Jesse. Good luck with your friend, there.” He smiled at the young man and the bird, then took his groceries and left. “Thanks.” Jesse turned off his light, set out the Lane Closed sign, and locked his register before he held out his hands to the bird. “Um, hey. You‟re Sings-like-water, right?” Sings-like-water stepped up onto Jesse‟s outstretched arm and nodded, then said, “Yes.” “Oh, thank God. What happened?” “Don‟t know.” He wished he did, but it was like before: there was light and dark and he simply didn‟t know. One moment he‟d been a human, the next…. “Bad man.” “Kevin? Okay. I‟ll have to take you home, since you‟re not a service animal.” He reached into his pocket and touched the keys Chris had brought him. “Those were your keys, right?” “Yes.” He crept the rest of the way up to perch on Jesse‟s shoulder, doing his best to straighten and order the

First Flight | Connor Wright 140 hair over Jesse‟s ear. It didn‟t work very well, but that was all right. “Let‟s go find Tanner.” “So. This bird is yours, he somehow got out of the house, and you have to take him home?” Tanner‟s brows were attempting to hide in his hairline. “That‟s the shortest version of it, yeah,” Jesse said. “Look, it‟ll take me fifteen minutes, tops. I‟ll stay an extra fifteen minutes, okay? I just need to run home. I‟ll be right back.” “Please,” Sings-like-water said, turning his head to look at Tanner. “Uh….” Tanner glanced at the raven. “Okay, fine. But however long you‟re gone, you have to stay later. No more than twenty minutes. Make it snappy.” “Yeah, I swear,” Jesse said, nodding at him. “Thanks. I‟ll be back as soon as possible.”

“OKAY, so, there‟s some water there, and a snack for you, and, um, things are set in the bathroom.” Jesse shook his head. “Will you be okay, by yourself?” “Yes,” Sings-like-water said, cocking his head and looking up at Jesse. “All right. I‟ll be home a little after five, okay? I have no idea what we‟re going to tell Mom and Dad.” He sighed and ran his hand over the sleek feathers of Sings-like-water‟s head. “I‟ll see you in a little while, okay? Be good. Don‟t set the house on fire.” “Okay,” Sings-like-water said, nodding at him.

First Flight | Connor Wright 141 “Right.” Jesse waved and left. A few hours later, he opened the door into the house from the garage. “Chris—Uh, Sings-like-water? I‟m home!” Jesse headed into the kitchen and picked up the dishes left from earlier. He looked toward the archway that led into the hall, surprised for a second at the sight of the large black bird that glided through it. “Hey,” he said as Sings-like-water landed on his shoulder. “How was your afternoon?” “Okay,” he said, running his beak through Jesse‟s hair. “You?” “Eh, it was a typical Tuesday,” Jesse said, setting the plates in the sink. “I need to go for a drive, and I was thinking about going out toward the tree. Do you want to go?” He bounced a little at the idea of getting out of the house. “Yes.” “I bet you‟d rather fly than ride with me, huh?” Jesse smiled and touched him. “Which I can understand completely. Let me just call Mom and then we can get out of here.” “Okay.”

“I‟VE been trying to figure out what we‟re going to tell Mom and Dad,” Jesse said, looking up through the branches at Sings-like-water. “I‟m thinking that I‟ll tell them your parents want to spend time with you, so you‟ve gone back home for a few days, until, I don‟t know, until you‟re back to normal.” Sings-like-water fluttered down to a lower branch, leaning out and eyeing him. “Stay here?”

First Flight | Connor Wright 142 “You can if you want,” Jesse said, petulant worry lancing through him. He knew it was kind of silly, to be upset about the whole thing. It wasn‟t as if Chris couldn‟t survive perfectly well on his own, or that he would forget about Jesse, but…. “Visit your family, enjoy your wings again. I‟ll miss you, but it‟s up to you.” Stay? Without Jesse? He could, but it seemed wrong. No, he didn‟t want to; he wouldn’t. “Home!” Sings-like-water dropped down beside Jesse‟s head, then stepped up onto his shoulder. He sank his claws into the fabric of Jesse‟s jacket and pinched as much of his hair in his bill as he could. “Okay, okay,” Jesse said, tilting his head to ease the tension on his hair. “You don‟t have to stay here. It was just an idea.” The thought that Sings-like-water would choose him over flying around all day amazed him. “Hey, I just realized that if I leave the window open for you, you can go out whenever you want to.” “Good.”

THE phone was ringing when they got home. “Bad.” Sings-like-water made a disapproving noise. “Bad man.” “Maybe. Could be Mom or Dad, too.” Jesse checked the caller ID, but he didn‟t recognize the number. “Swanson residence.” “You‟re going to be sorry. You and that bird you trained to attack me. I‟m gonna fix you.” The line went dead. “Shit.” Jesse sighed and pressed the switch hook, frowning as the broken dial tone blatted at him. He started

First Flight | Connor Wright 143 the process of checking the voicemail. “You said you ran into Kevin, today.” “Yes.” “Did you attack him?” The pleasant female voice informed him that there were fifteen new messages. “Yes. Bad man.” Sings-like-water shifted from foot to foot. “Wanted hurt me.” “Oh.” Jesse deleted the first message, which said You’ll be sorry. You’ll all be sorry. If you don’t come back, you’ll regret it. The second one, recorded a mere minute after the first one, was interrupted by the beep of the call-waiting signal. He braced himself and switched over. “Swanson residence.” “Come back to me, Jesse.” “No. You tried to do something to Chris again, and that doesn‟t make me want to get back together with you.” “Then you‟ll regret it. You‟ll all be sorry, and it‟ll be all your fault.” The line went dead again. Jesse sighed and went back to deleting voicemail messages. Kevin called back, over and over again, and each time the conversation went the same way.

“HEY, Mom.” Jesse waved as Leanna carried the mail into the living room. “Hi, sweetie,” she said, sitting down on the other end of the couch. “How was your day?” “Eh. Work was okay, but Chris called to say his family wanted to try to get along again, so would he mind coming back for a few days? So he went to see them. He wasn‟t sure

First Flight | Connor Wright 144 how long he was going to be gone, but at least the rest of the week. And Kevin‟s still calling, although I‟ve kind of slowed him down some.” Jesse held up a whistle. “If it‟s him, I blow this instead of talking or listening to him. He doesn‟t call as often as he has been.” “Oh, okay,” she said, a thoughtful look on her face. “Well, I hope Chris can patch things up with his family. He seems like such a good person.” “Me too. I miss him already, though.”

“THIS is absolutely the last straw,” Leanna said, as she left the phone off the hook. “Calls at all hours, none of our family can get through to us, and with Aunt Gillian in the hospital…. I am calling the police and the phone company first thing tomorrow morning.” “You still know where this joker lives, right, Jesse?” Desmond glowered in his son‟s direction. “You‟re not going to go assault him,” Leanna said, before Jesse could answer. “Because if you do, you will get arrested.” “Yeah, I know where he lives, but Mom‟s right,” Jesse said. He shook his head and sighed. “I‟m really sorry about all of this. I didn‟t know he‟d act like this. I‟m sorry.” “It‟s not your fault,” Desmond said, shrugging at him. “You keep telling him „go away‟, and he keeps not listening.”

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Chapter Nineteen “OKAY, so, there‟s water and a snack for you, the window‟s open, and I‟ll come home at lunchtime.” Jesse looked around his room and shrugged. “I think that‟s it, for now. If Kevin comes over, there‟s not much you can do, so I guess just stay out of sight?” “Yes!” Sings-like-water nodded vigorously. “Bad man.” “Seriously annoying man, anyhow. Okay, I gotta get out of here. See you later.” “Good day,” Sings-like-water said.

“HEY, Mom. What‟s up?” “Hi, Jess. Well, I‟ve spent most of my morning either on the phone or running around, but the good news is that the phone company was ridiculously helpful. The other thing is that, um, I filed for a restraining order against Kevin. Once it‟s official, he has to stay away from us and the house.” “Yeah? Great. I got your text with our new number.” He shook his head. “I really didn‟t mean for this to happen, Mom, I swear. I‟m sorry.” “I know. It just happened to be us, that‟s all. It‟s not your fault.” “I kinda think it is, ‟cause if I‟d never, y‟know, gone out with him….” Jesse sighed.

First Flight | Connor Wright 146 “Sweetie, you didn‟t know. You‟re not a hellion, or at least you haven‟t been one since you were about three. If I thought you had planned this as some sort of elaborate revenge, that would be different.” He laughed. “No! I can‟t think of anything I want revenge for, at least not that involves you and Dad. Dad changed the rules already, and okay, so maybe I‟m still a little miffed about the whole French fries thing. If I wanted to pay you back for that, I‟d just, y‟know, eat your fries. All of them. Without asking.” “Good Lord, Jesse, that was ten years ago,” she said, but her voice was amused. “Besides, you already did that anyhow. At least once. Okay, I need to let you go so I can call your dad and so you can get back to work. Love you.” “Love you too, Mom. Have a good day. Oh! I‟m on my way home to have lunch and see if Chris sent me an e-mail or anything, just so you know.” “Thanks for letting me know. I‟ll try, you too. Bye.” “Yeah. Bye.”

“I

BROUGHT you something,” Jesse said, as he walked into

his room. “Jesse!” Sings-like-water hopped from the foot of the bed to Jesse‟s shoulder and pushed his beak into Jesse‟s hair. “Hey there,” he said, putting the plates he carried on his desk. “I brought you some liver.” “Liver!” The bird flitted over to the desk and eyed both the small heap of maroon chunks and Jesse‟s sandwich. Sings-like-water stole a potato chip, then sidled around to

First Flight | Connor Wright 147 the far edge of the plate that held his lunch. “Thank you.” “Dork,” Jesse said, wrinkling his nose at the theft. “You‟re welcome. How was your morning?” “Good. Flew!” He broke the potato chip into smaller pieces, then ate one. “Saw… family. Liked to see me.” “Yeah? Good, I‟m glad they were happy to see you.” Jesse picked up his sandwich. “My family has always been— Even when I first told my parents, and my dad was really pissed off, he never threatened to throw me out. I‟m so, so lucky, and I just want your family to be okay with you.” Sings-like-water swallowed a piece of liver, trying to find the words to explain. “Family… confused. Say man, say not us, say how? But not say bad. Not… not say you wrong. Not say leave.” Jesse nodded as he chewed, leaning forward and touching Sings-like-water‟s head. “That‟s awesome. Good.” “Sis… sister has chosen,” Sings-like-water said, then had another chunk of liver. “Oh? Cool. Do you know him? Is he a good, uh, guy?” “Yes. Finds… Finds-mice-well. Can feed her. Make good nest.” “I hope they‟ll be happy together,” Jesse said, feeling a little weird. “Yes.” Sings-like-water pushed meat across his plate, occasionally looking up at Jesse. He helped himself to a couple of chips of his own. “Mom changed our phone number, this morning, and went to get a thing saying that Kevin can‟t come around anymore.” “Good! Bad man.” Sings-like-water made a dismissive noise, then ate another piece of his stolen potato chip.

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Chapter Twenty BRIGHT-TAIL knew she was supposed to stay away from the big box-things, because they were where men lived and men were dangerous, like almost everything else that was bigger than she was. She could smell something good coming from this one, though. The magpie moved closer and closer and closer, until she was perched on the edge of the gutter. The smell was coming from a dark opening on the side of the box. It was a food smell, rich blood and meaty. There was another smell, too, this one familiar, like her family, but not exactly the same. Bright-tail poked her beak into the white feathers of her belly, chasing a sudden tickle, then leaned over the edge to see what she could see. Sings-like-water opened an eye and looked toward the window. Nothing there, save the same boring view of the same boring street. He was halfway to dozing again when there was a fluttering scrabbling sound at the window. A magpie! What was a magpie doing on the windowsill? “Hello.” Bright-tail chirped in surprise and jumped backward, flapping back up to the gutter. There was someone inside! Someone who sounded like her, but still different. After a minute of carefully straightening her feathers, she returned to the sill. “Not food,” she said, just in case. “I don’t want to eat you,” Sings-like-water said. What a strange idea! But then, magpies were known to be a little weird.

First Flight | Connor Wright 149 “No eat?” She looked at the raven, perched on a funny branch near the window. “Why here?” “This is my nest, my home,” Sings-like-water said. He‟d spent the empty hours of yesterday thinking about it, finally determining that his decision was correct: this was where he belonged. “You nest here? Odd.” But then, everyone knew ravens were odd. “Where food?” So that was why she was here. “Here,” he said, fluttering over to the desk. There were a few scraps of liver on his breakfast plate, and he pushed them into a pile with his bill. “Liver.” “Liver!” Bright-tail hopped into the house and flapped over to the flat surface. Ravens were odd, but this one might not be so bad. “Want.” “Eat,” Sings-like-water said, stepping back from the plate.

“DID you hear from Chris today?” Leanna said, as she passed the salad to Desmond. “Yeah,” Jesse said, nodding. “He called me and said that things are actually going better than he was expecting, but he‟s looking forward to coming back. It might be a couple more days, but at least everyone‟s speaking to one another and when they do it‟s positive.” “Good,” Desmond said, passing the salad bowl along to Jesse. “Even if they make you crazy, your kids are still your kids.”

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Chapter Twenty-One BRIGHT-TAIL settled on the peak of the roof and casually preened the underside of her right wing. After a minute or two, she nonchalantly walked down the slope to the gutter, where she perched and attended to her left wing. A quick look around and she dropped over the edge, her wings and tail curved and canted just-so to take her to the windowsill. “Hello!” “Hello, not-food,” Sings-like-water said. She flicked her tail in irritation. “Am Bright-tail!” “I am Sings-like-water,” he said, turning his head this way and that, looking her over. “Sings-watery,” Bright-tail said. “Liver?” “No liver,” he said, moving over to the desk. “Eggs and toast.” “Eggs!” She crouched to join him, then straightened up again. Ravens were odd and crafty. “Your eggs? Your nest, your eggs?” “Food-eggs,” Sings-like-water said, nudging the plate that Jesse had left him. “Good.” Well, that was different, then. As were the eggs—there were globs of yellow-white things on the plate, next to bits of brown things. Bright-tail glided across to the desk and tentatively poked at the nearest of the globs. “Eggs?” “Yes. Scrammed.” That wasn‟t quite the right word, but he‟d been forgetting human words at a frightening rate. What

First Flight | Connor Wright 151 if he forgot them all? What if he was never human again? What if he couldn‟t talk to Jesse if he did turn into a human again? He shifted on the desktop, then flew back to perch on the head of Jesse‟s bed. “Sings-watery eggs bad?” “Eggs good. Bright-tail eat.” He fluffed his feathers up, then began smoothing them into place, the routine soothing. Jesse would be home soon, and then he could try to tell him. Maybe Jesse could use the box on the desk—he closed his eyes and thought hard—the computer to help them both.

“SINCE they‟re not that good for people, I bet they‟re even worse for birds, so I only brought you two fried livers,” Jesse said, as he unpacked the bag he‟d brought upstairs. “Thank you.” Sings-like-water pulled the small package over and stood on it, then tore it open with his beak. It was a satisfying way to start lunch, but it didn‟t last. “Jesse?” “Hm?” “Want human,” he said, abandoning his food and walking up Jesse‟s arm. “Want now.” He pushed hair behind Jesse‟s ear. “I know,” Jesse said, after he‟d swallowed his bite of sandwich. “I wish you were back to being human, too. We‟ll figure it out, I promise.” Not that he had any idea how. “Good.” He stood on Jesse‟s shoulder for a couple of minutes, leaning against him and attempting to preen the man‟s hair.

“IT‟S been really nice, not having the phone ringing off the

First Flight | Connor Wright 152 hook,” Jesse said, as he and Leanna worked on dinner. “It really has,” she said. “Uh, hey,” Desmond said, as he came into the kitchen, “have either of you seen the garage?” “It‟s missing?” Jesse said, then laughed. “It was there when I got home.” “What‟s the matter?” Leanna was less amused. Desmond looked at Jesse for a few seconds, as if he wasn‟t sure he wanted to speak. Then he moved his gaze to the faucet and said, “Someone came by and painted „Jesse Swanson is a, uh, fag‟ and „you‟ll be sorry‟ on it, only they misspelled the last one.” “God,” Jesse said, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “I‟ll clean it up or paint over it.” He wiped his hands on his pants and turned toward the door to the mudroom. “Don‟t,” Leanna said, holding up her hand. “Take pictures, first. We have to document everything, the police said, and tell them about it.”

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Chapter Twenty-Two “JESSE, you need to wake up. Tanner needs to talk to you.” “Huh?” Jesse rubbed at his face and squinted at his clock. Glowing green numbers told him it was a quarter to six. “Tanner? Now?” “Yes,” Leanna said, holding the phone out to him. “I know it‟s early.” “‟Sokay,” he said, taking the phone. “Tanner?” “Hi, Jesse. I‟m sorry to wake you up, but you may not want to come to work, today.” “Why? What happened?” Jesse sat up, far more alert. “Well, when I got here to open, I discovered that someone had spent a ridiculous amount of time spraypainting the building. Front, sides, and back. It‟s all about you, and about your, uh, orientation.” “Lemme guess, I‟m a fag?” Jesse groaned and flopped backward. “Screw it, I‟ll come in anyhow.” “It‟s a little more, um, explicit than that,” Tanner said. “I don‟t know what it‟s going to cost to get it cleaned up.” “Don‟t clean it up!” Jesse sat up again. “Uh, I gotta ask Mom. She‟s been talking to the cops. They said you have to take pictures, first, and call them before you do anything. Kevin painted our garage last night. I don‟t know if there‟s someone you have to ask for or anything, but Mom‟ll know. Hang on.”

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lock up ur sons! jesse swanson is a fag! ull b sory! jesse swanson sucks cock! ull see ull b sory u shold of lisend! jesse swanson is a slutty whore! “Charming,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “At least Chris isn‟t here to see this.” “At least it doesn‟t involve Chris,” Desmond said. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, then shook his head. “It‟s not right. None of it is.” “Not on this side of the building, anyhow, and no, it‟s not,” Jesse said. The thought of the same slurs applied to Chris, who would have understood that they were meant to hurt but not why, made him feel sicker than he already did. “Why is it that he can spell my name right, but not sorry, should, or you’ll?” “Beats me,” Desmond said. “I swear to God, if I catch him, he is going to be sorry. And I‟ll plead guilty and go to jail and be damn happy about it, too.” “Dad,” Jesse said, and sighed. “Thanks for driving me over here. I‟ll see you later.”

“OH,

HERE, you need one of these,” Betsy said, holding out

a small slip of paper. “What is this?” Jesse said, even as he took it from her. It was a green Hello, my name is: sticker, which had the word FAG written in the space beneath. “Excuse me?” “We‟re all wearing them, today,” she said, moving her jacket aside so he could see the pink one stuck to her apron,

First Flight | Connor Wright 155 just below her regular name badge. “It was Tanner‟s idea.” “Really?” He blinked and realized that he hadn‟t looked at anyone on the way in. “Uh, okay. Why?” “He made some noble-sounding speech about valued employees and valuing one another and camaraderie,” she said, taking her jacket off and hanging it up. “Which I‟m pretty sure is just a bunch of cover-your-ass BS so no one will know he‟s got a little crush on you. C‟mon, we gotta get out front.” Jesse peeled the backing off the sticker and stuck it to the dead center of the top of his apron. One of his bosses apparently had a crush on him, his boyfriend was currently a bird, his ex-boyfriend had lost his mind, and the whole world had been informed that he was gay. On the other hand, everyone in the store seemed to be claiming solidarity with him. “This is the weirdest day of my life,” he said, and followed her out of the room.

“HEY, are you Jesse Swanson?” Jesse looked up from the pack of gum he was scanning. “Why?” The last guy that had asked that had used it as a lead-in to asking him where his purse was, then told him a hoary old joke about the difference between lesbians and gay guys preparing to go on vacation. “Robbie Amundson,” the guy said, holding up an ID badge that said PRESS on it. “With Inquisitive Times. My boss lives up the street. She called me on her way in this morning, saying we gotta talk to you and your coworkers.” “Oh, okay,” Jesse said, dropping the gum in beside the

First Flight | Connor Wright 156 chips and the soda he‟d already bagged. “That comes to five seventeen.” “Can I get an interview with you?” Robbie said, holding out a ten. Jesse shrugged as he took the bill. “Why?” “My boss, she‟s Juliana Hyde.” “That‟s awesome for her, I‟m sure,” Jesse said, as he finished up the transaction and handed the man‟s change over. “But I‟m not—I don‟t read the Inquisitive Times. I don‟t know who she is.” “She used to be Julian Hyde,” Robbie said, stuffing his change in his pocket without looking at it. “She‟s got a huge chip on her shoulder when it comes to discrimination and denigration and a lot of other big words that don’t start with D. Anyhow, she wants to do a story on the graffiti and on you and the response of your coworkers and stuff. When I told her about the sign out front, she actually swore in front of board members ‟cause she couldn‟t come down here herself.” “Julian Hyde?” Jesse frowned, then tilted his head. “Wait, is she the one that sued the mayor for vetoing the assembly‟s motion to add sexual orientation to the nondiscrimination thing? And what sign?” “Yeah! That‟s her.” He nodded enthusiastically. “The sign in front of the entryway that explains that by shopping here, people are making a stand against hate, so please tell your friends to shop here too and the plan to donate money to some good causes and the whole nametag thing. So can I ask you some questions?” “Really?” Jesse looked around, standing on his toes so he could see all the way back to the customer service desk.

First Flight | Connor Wright 157 Everyone seemed to be busy with their normal Thursday tasks, from what he could see. “Huh. What the hell, okay.” He checked his watch. “I‟m supposed to go on break now anyhow. I can give you twenty minutes, okay?” “That‟s awesome!” Robbie dug a battered notebook and a cheap pen out of the inside pocket of his jacket. “Okay, so, first thing is, do you know who did this?”

“SO

ON top of the guy from the Inquisitive Times, there was

the lady from the regular paper and a photographer, Marnie and Devon from Rock On‟s morning show, a guy from the public radio station, two girls from the university‟s radio station who couldn‟t stop giggling, and two TV reporters, one from channel five and one from channel twelve,” Jesse said, rubbing his face and wandering across the kitchen to open the fridge. “I need a nap.” “Good Lord,” Leanna said, on the other end of the line. “What did you tell them all?” “Basically the same thing,” Jesse said, closing the door again and heading back toward the phone, “since they were all asking the same questions, pretty much. It was more tedious than anything else.” “Ah. Oh, I know what I was going to ask you. Where did you get that big stuffed bird that‟s in your room?” “Stuffed—oh, uh, Betsy found it at some craft store in their Halloween stuff for, like, five bucks. She brought it in and was trying to give it away, and since Chris likes ravens and crows, I bought it from her.” “Oh, okay then. There was something else…. Oh, that‟s

First Flight | Connor Wright 158 right. Will you be okay if your dad and I go out to dinner tonight? He made us reservations at Bellaluna a couple of weeks ago, but if you‟d rather not be home alone, we can cancel.” “No, I‟ll be fine. If Kevin shows up, I‟ll pretend I‟m not home and call the cops, I swear. Chris was going to try to call me tonight, which I‟m really looking forward to.” Leanna laughed. “And I‟m sure you don‟t want snoopy parents listening while you‟re being all mushy,” she said. “Hardly,” Jesse said and laughed too. “Seriously, go have a good time. I‟ll be fine.” “All right, then. Don‟t burn the house down.” “Aw, that was right after „talk to Chris‟ on my list of stuff to do tonight! I guess I‟ll just have to go to bed early, then.” “I‟m sorry, but you know how your father feels about insurance premiums,” she said. “All right, then. I‟ll talk to you later. Love you.” “Love you, too, Mom. Bye.”

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Chapter Twenty-Three HE

WAS late. Jesse would already be home, and maybe

worried about him. He didn‟t want to make his chosen one worry. Sings-like-water looked down as he rested a moment, not liking something about the car that was traveling along the street below. It was just a car, big and smelly and dangerous, but it was down there and couldn‟t hurt him. He was almost home; he really needed to pay attention to where he was going. Home. Just as he reached the edge of the Swanson‟s property, the car pulled across the drive at an angle, part of it on the grass. The door opened and Sings-like-water didn‟t think about it: he simply shrieked, dropping straight out of the sky. Jesse frowned and paused his game, listening hard. He decided it must have been a kid or something and went back to playing. Kevin hit him, pushed him away, and leaned back into the car. When he straightened up, he was holding something long and dark and skinny, but Sings-like-water didn‟t recognize it. He‟d only had a glimpse of it, anyhow; he was too focused on finding purchase on Kevin‟s head or face to pay attention to what was in his hands. “Go!” he said, “Danger! Go away!” Danger. Bright-tail flew up to the peak of the roof and

First Flight | Connor Wright 160 looked over, looking for the hawk or eagle that was threatening Sings-watery. She couldn‟t see one, couldn‟t see any other birds at all, actually. A movement from the ground and another cry of Danger! caught her attention and she hopped down to the gutter. There was Sings-watery and a man too. The man seemed to be the one who was dangerous. Bright-tail wouldn‟t argue that, not at all. She also would not sit and watch, not when Singswatery needed help. Leaning forward, Bright-tail let gravity pull her over the edge, flicking her wings open just enough to arrest her fall and gain forward momentum. “Danger!” she called, diving at the pale oval that was turned toward Singswatery. “Go away, go away!” Another shriek pulled his attention away from his game. “That‟s not kids,” Jesse said, shoving his chair away from his desk. He leaned back and glanced out the window, fear lancing through him as he recognized Kevin. The black-andwhite shape on Kevin‟s head was a magpie, and the big black shape— “Chris!” Then the magpie made a feint at Kevin‟s hands, and he swore his heart stopped: the man was holding a gun. Jesse turned and tripped over his feet as he tried to get up. He crawled across to the table beside the bed and found the handset, dialing with a shaking hand. “Nine-one-one, what is the nature of your emergency?” “Hi, um, I need you to send the cops over here because he‟s got a gun and I‟m pretty sure he‟s gonna try to kill my boyfriend—” “Okay, you need to slow down. Someone has a gun?” “Yeah, Kevin, Kevin Woods. He‟s on the lawn, um, and I‟m at 7659 Emberly Drive—”

First Flight | Connor Wright 161 “Okay, I see your address here. Is anyone injured?” “I don‟t think so. I didn‟t hear any, uh, any shots and please you have to send someone—” “Just slow down, sir. What‟s your name? Are you Desmond Swanson?” “I‟m Jesse,” he said, peeking out the window again. “God, please, he‟s loading the gun and you‟ve got to get the cops here.” Sings-like-water circled, called out, and dropped again, latching onto the fabric and soft skin at the back of Kevin‟s neck, pecking hard at the back of his head. Bright-tail caught the glint of light on brass at the man‟s hands and darted at it. “Want!” she said, grabbing at the gold-and-red thing the man was trying to push into the pipe he held. “Give me!” The cartridge fell to the grass and the man swatted her, knocking her to the ground as well. “Bad! Go away! Danger!” Bright-tail, indignant, flew up into his face and drove her beak toward his eyes. “Danger!” Sings-like-water said, and tore a clump of hair free from Kevin‟s scalp. “Just stay calm, Jesse. I‟m Lynda, and I‟ve got two units on the way now. You said Kevin is on the lawn? Where are you?” “In my room on the second floor,” Jesse said, his head swimming. He blinked a few times and took a deep breath. “Where‟s your, um, boyfriend?” He couldn‟t decide what the little hesitation meant. There had been a few vocal detractors among the day‟s incredible support, and the idea that he‟d managed to find

First Flight | Connor Wright 162 another one scared him more than the gun in Kevin‟s hands. “You‟re still sending the cops, right? You‟re not going to let him—fuck—” His breath caught, his throat squeezing tight. “The police are about five minutes away, Jesse, and they‟ll be there as soon as they can. Where is your boyfriend? Is he in the house too? I need to let the officers know where he is.” “No, he‟s outside.” Jesse didn‟t want to look. He could still hear the birds, which probably meant that they were fine. “He‟s outside? All right. I‟ve just let the officers know, so they can look out for him, all right?” “Okay.” He couldn‟t stand it. Jesse peered over the window sill in time to see Kevin lift the gun to his shoulder, aiming at something that Jesse couldn‟t see. “No!” The phone fell to the carpet, Lynda‟s voice a forgotten buzz as he dashed from his room. Jesse took the stairs two at a time, landing in the entry way with a thump and staggering a little before wrenching the door open. “Bad man,” Bright-tail said, flitting away and then throwing herself at the man‟s face again. “Very bad—” “You bastard!” Jesse charged across the yard toward Kevin. “You fucking bastard!” A sudden noise startled Sings-like-water and he flew straight up, as hard and as fast as he could go. Another of the thunderous sounds split the air and something stung his left wing. He didn‟t stop, didn‟t look back, not until his breathing grew harsh. There was another person on the lawn. Sings-like-water pulled his wings in and plummeted, faster than he‟d ever

First Flight | Connor Wright 163 fallen before. When he hit Kevin‟s head this time, his momentum was too great, and he slid right down the back of the man. He didn‟t let it stop him, though, hopping around to stand between Kevin, his home, and his chosen one. Jesse had stopped short when Kevin had fired. He started moving again as the gun dropped down to point at the grass, nearly stepping on Sings-like-water as they reached Kevin at almost the same time. “Oh, fuck you.” Kevin jerked backward, barely avoiding Jesse‟s grasp. He dug in his pocket with his left hand, scowling at the bird that was jumping at his knees. “Missed,” Kevin said, “damn.” “Don‟t you dare,” Jesse said, scrambling to put himself between Kevin and the raven. “I won‟t let you do anything to Chris, ever.” His voice seemed thin and flat after the noise of the gunshots. “You‟re fucking crazy,” Kevin said, trying to get the action open with two more live shells in his hand. “Jesus, I can‟t believe I didn‟t know.” “Go someplace safe,” Jesse said, as Sings-like-water squawked behind him. “Please, Chris.” Sings-like-water didn‟t want to abandon Jesse, not when Kevin was still standing right there. “Danger,” he said, expending the effort to get airborne once more. He kited between the two men, ignoring the pain in his wing as he made a grab at whatever Kevin held. “Chris! It‟s my turn,” Jesse said, grabbing the bird and turning away from Kevin just long enough to throw Singslike-water toward the porch. “Let me prove it.” Kevin had the stock tucked under his right arm, the barrels in his right hand, when Jesse turned around again.

First Flight | Connor Wright 164 He pulled the first cartridge from the breech and promptly dropped both the live and spent rounds. “Dammit!” Jesse didn‟t wait. He just pulled his hand back and hit Kevin in the face as hard as he could. The gun fell to the grass as Kevin yelped, then did his best to tackle Jesse. Perched on the gutter, Sings-like-water watched the two of them wrestle for a few moments. Jesse was protecting him, this time; was showing him that he had chosen well. Reassured by this, he took the opportunity to look for Bright-tail. He couldn‟t see her, but she was so small that she could have hidden almost anywhere in the yard. “Bright-tail?” Nothing but Jesse and Kevin, swearing and grunting at one another. Sings-like-water glanced at them again, wondering if he should help, then looked up as sirens caught his attention. They seemed much louder than they were when they went by in traffic, and a green and white car pulled up on the lawn proper. Another parked behind Kevin‟s car, and he dropped into the branches of the big lilac that grew at the front corner of the garage just in case. Men emerged from the cars, pointing small black things toward the young men on the lawn. There was some confused shouting, then Kevin was picked up and carried away to one of the cars and one of the men went over to talk to Jesse. Jesse got to his feet as the officer approached. “Are you Jesse Swanson?” “Yeah,” Jesse said, looking around the yard. “Have you seen a black bird anywhere?” “No,” the officer said, giving him a strange look. “I‟m Officer Foley. Can you tell me what happened?”

First Flight | Connor Wright 165 “Just a minute,” Jesse said, pushing past the officer. “Chris? Chris!” He looked around again and spotted something on the ground, in one of the flowerbeds. “Chris?” It was too small to be Chris; there was too much white. Jesse stared stupidly at the remains of the magpie for a second or two before looking up again. Maybe he was using the wrong name? “Uh, Sings-like-water?” It was safe, now; he could go to Jesse. Gathering himself, Sings-like-water launched himself from the lilac and flapped laboriously across the open ground. “Here!” “Christopher, thank God,” Jesse said, holding his arms out. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” He didn‟t bother trying to land on an arm or shoulder, he just sort of crashed into Jesse‟s chest. It hardly mattered, because he was wrapped up in big arms and held close, just where he wanted to be. “Jesse.” “God, you‟re okay, right?” Heedless of the people watching, forgetting they were on the front lawn, Jesse dropped to his knees and turned Chris‟s face up toward his own. He kissed the top of his head, the side of his sharp black bill; there was a dazzling flash of light and— “Jesse!” Chris twisted so he could put his arms around the other man. “Jesse, Jesse, look!” “Chris?” Jesse blinked, trying to get his vision to clear. The fact that he was no longer holding a three-pound raven but rather supporting a hundred-thirty-plus human was more than enough proof, really, but he wanted to make sure. “I—you‟re you!” “I‟m always me,” Chris said, and then he laughed. “My arm hurts.” “Let me see,” Jesse said, still blinking. Chris held his

First Flight | Connor Wright 166 left arm out, then pulled it up so he could peer at the back of his forearm. A half-dozen purplish-red spots, each sporting a small oozing of blood, stood out against his pale skin. “Oh, that‟s why.” He frowned, then looked up as Foley approached them. “I‟m naked again.” “He must have just missed you,” Jesse said, suddenly nauseous at the thought of how close he‟d come to losing Chris. “I know. We should get you in the house and into at least some pants.” “Excuse me, Mr. Swanson, but I really need to talk to you,” Foley said. “And where did this guy come from?” “An egg,” Chris said, matter-of-factly. “I need clothes.” “We need to get Chris inside and clean up his arm,” Jesse said, looking up at the officer. “Can I talk to you while we do that?” “I‟d really rather have your undivided attention,” Foley said, hooking his thumbs into his belt and pushing his elbows out as he leaned forward a little. “And I really don‟t appreciate smart-mouths.” “Chris can‟t help it,” Jesse said, his eyebrows drawing together as the man loomed over them. “He‟s, uh, a little different. Look, it‟ll just take a couple of minutes. Come in, have a soda or something, sit on the couch for a second. Okay?” Chris reacted to the overshadowing and the tone of the officer‟s voice by getting up and leaning in, nose-to-nose with the other man. “You helped with Kevin and that is good. This is my nest and my Jesse and I will keep them both safe.” “Chris,” Jesse said, clambering to his feet as well, “it‟s okay. Come on, let‟s all go inside, okay? We shouldn‟t be standing around out here on the lawn where everyone can see us.”

First Flight | Connor Wright 167

“AND that‟s the whole story. As for why he chose now, you‟ll have to ask him,” Jesse said, sitting back with a sigh. Chris tightened his arms around him. “Okay,” Foley said, making a few last notes. “I‟m going to assume that you‟re gonna want to press charges, so—” “Jesse! Jesse, are you—Chris! Oh, thank God, you‟re both safe,” Leanna said, dropping her things on the floor and running around the end of the couch. “Hi, Mama,” Jesse said, pulling her down to sit between them. Chris moved his arm and put it around Leanna as well. “My arm is hurt but not a lot and Kevin was in a car and went away,” Chris said, blinking as his words tumbled over one another, still not quite recovered from his time as a bird, “but we are safe.” “Thank God,” she said, and kissed him on the cheek. Then she leaned over, kissed Jesse, and sniffled. “What happened?”

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Chapter Twenty-Four “MOM, Dad, we have something to tell you. About Chris.” Jesse squeezed Chris‟s hand, took a deep breath, and began. Desmond and Leanna were quiet, through their explanation of Chris‟s origins, the transformation and deception, and then their apology for it. “I don‟t believe it,” Desmond said, crossing his arms. “You‟re saying that Christopher is a bird? Only not really, because… because he loves you so much he turned into a human?” “Yes,” Chris said, nodding at him. “Firstly I did not, because I didn‟t know Jesse. But I wanted to, and then I lived here and worked and ate and played games and helped set the table and everything. When I was a raven this time, I started to forget words. But not Jesse. “Flying was good, but he wasn‟t there and it wasn‟t as good. Food without him wasn‟t as good. Sleeping by him, sleeping without him, sleeping wasn‟t as good. That is how I love Jesse, he makes everything good better.” He smiled up at Jesse, adjusting his fingers so that they meshed with the taller man‟s. “I know it‟s hard to believe.” Jesse shrugged. “But it‟s true. And at least it‟s not contagious or anything.” Leanna blinked a couple of times, then rubbed her eyes. “Sorry,” she said, “it‟s just—oh, I don‟t care! Human or bird or whatever! You love my son and you‟re both safe and it just

First Flight | Connor Wright 169 doesn‟t matter, does it?” “Not to me,” Jesse said, despite the fact he was pretty sure it was a rhetorical question. “Maybe?” Chris glanced at Desmond, who was still frowning mightily, his arms crossed. Jesse looked at him, as did Leanna. After a minute, he blinked and looked back. “What?” “Does it matter?” Jesse said. “Huh? I guess not. It‟s not like he‟s a vampire or something really stupid. No, I was just thinking that explained some things, that‟s all,” Desmond said, waving a hand. “It‟s hard to swallow, sure, but what the hell. It‟s not like he‟s a murderer.” “That‟s crows,” Chris said, his lips and eyebrows quirking the way they did when he knew he was being silly. Jesse rolled his eyes and nudged him. “I shouldn‟t have loaned you An Exultation of Larks,” he said. “Crows, larks, ravens, we‟re all—oh!” Chris looked around, his amusement gone, tugging his hand free of Jesse‟s. “Oh, did anyone see Bright-tail?” “Who?” Desmond stopped chewing on his thumbnail, his pensive expression replaced by confusion. “Bright-tail. She‟s not very big,” he held his hands up, as if presenting a grapefruit, “and she‟s kind of weird but everyone knows magpies are weird. She was helping me when Kevin was here and I don‟t remember seeing her after the big noise.” Chris touched his bandaged arm. “Magpie?” Jesse remembered the poor gory bird lying on the ground. “I think, um, I think I saw her.” “Where is she? Is she okay?” Chris didn‟t like the look

First Flight | Connor Wright 170 on Jesse‟s face at all. “What‟s wrong?” “Chris….” Jesse put his arm around his shoulders. “I‟m really sorry, but I think Kevin hurt her. Very, very badly, and I think she, um, died.” “How do you know?” He crossed his arms and hunched up. “Maybe you‟re wrong.” “Maybe I am,” Jesse said, letting go of the other man and heading for the junk drawer. A moment later, he checked to see if the flashlight worked (it did), and walked back to Chris. “Come on. I think she‟s out front.” Chris followed him out to where the broken little body lay, kneeling down to look at her. Jesse was not wrong, as much as Chris wished he was. “Yes. Bright-tail is food, now.” There was something horrible about the calm acceptance of the bird‟s death, and something very much Chris about it too. Jesse wasn‟t sure what he could say, if anything, so he stuck with the tried and true. “I‟m sorry.” “I am too, because she should not be food now. Kevin is not a hawk or an eagle and this is not her nest and she helped me anyhow,” Chris said, touching her head. “I didn‟t ask her to. We should tell the police.” “I don‟t know if they can help, but I know how to find out. Do you want to bury her?” “No, not unless you were saving her to eat later,” Chris said, glancing up at Jesse. It seemed rather unlike him. “No!” Jesse took a breath. “Um, no. I don‟t want to eat her. Uh, is it important that she be, um, eaten?” “Bright-tail would eat you,” Chris said, looking up at him again. “I suppose so,” Jesse said, finding the factual statement

First Flight | Connor Wright 171 decidedly less than comforting. He didn‟t think it was right to just leave her body lying there, at the moment, and so he tried to figure out what they could do. “You know, there‟s an old shoebox in the garage. Let‟s put her in that, and then in the morning we‟ll go out by the creek and leave her there. Would that be okay?” “I think she would like that, yes,” Chris said.

“HM,” Jesse said, rereading his findings. “What?” Chris yawned. “Come get in bed with me now, please.” “This says that the only time it‟s legal to hunt magpies is if they‟re preying on crops, livestock, or ornamental trees.” Jesse smiled, the expression somewhat grim. “Which means that Kevin has just added a new charge to the list he‟s already facing.” “Okay,” Chris said, patting the blankets beside him. “Sleep now.” “I‟m coming, funny bird,” Jesse said, turning off his monitor. “Keep your shirt on.” “Not wearing a shirt,” Chris grumbled, but he held up the blankets for Jesse anyhow. As Jesse settled under them, he nodded. “Good. Now I can sleep.”

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Chapter Twenty-Five “HI, TANNER,” Jesse said, keeping his voice low. “G‟morning, Jesse. What‟s up?” “I need the day off. Uh, Chris is back, so he‟ll need the day off, too.” “While I‟m glad to hear that, I‟m afraid I can‟t give you time off just so you can get reacquainted with—” “I have to go to the police station,” Jesse said, his voice flat. “And so does Chris.” Tanner‟s amusement everything okay?”

disappeared.

“Oh.

Right,

is

“More or less. Kevin came over yesterday and, uh, he ended up getting arrested. It‟s a long story. Is it all right if we take off for today?” “Yeah, it‟s fine. If you‟d be willing to come in and cover for Stacy tomorrow that would be best for everyone.” “Sure, I can do that, not a problem. Thanks, Tanner. I appreciate this.” “Don‟t worry about it. Just be sure that the cops know I‟m in line to kick his ass.” Jesse laughed. “I don‟t think they‟ll approve of that, somehow, but I‟ll tell them. You‟re after my dad, just so you know. Although if you ask nicely, he might be willing to take turns with you.” “I‟ll keep that in mind. See you later, Jesse.” “Later,” Jesse said, and hung up.

First Flight | Connor Wright 173 “Jesse?” Chris was frowning, his eyes still closed as he felt around. When he ran into Jesse‟s leg, the frown faded away. “Jesse.” “Hey.” Jesse set the phone down and settled down beside Chris once more. “G‟morning, if you‟re awake.” “No,” Chris said. “Work today?” “No. We have to talk to the police and stuff today, so I was just asking Tanner if we could stay home. He said yes.” “What‟s stuff?” He opened his eyes, enough to see Jesse‟s face. “Food?” Chris wouldn‟t have minded going to work, but the thought of being able to stay beside Jesse all day made him feel warm again. “Stuff is, yeah, food. And Bright-tail, and I don‟t know what else. Painting the garage, probably.” Jesse thought about that. It would mean explaining fag to Chris, but it would also mean working together. And paint was notoriously messy, which meant they‟d need to get clean. Painting the garage might be just fine, after all. “Painting the garage? Hm. Kissing too? I missed having lips.” “I‟m sure we can fit kissing into the schedule, today,” Jesse said, reaching over and ruffling Chris‟s hair. “Yeah? I missed your lips too.” “You did? Show me.” Chris pulled at the hem of Jesse‟s shirt, moving his head over and bumping his nose against Jesse‟s. “Now, please. Want.” And who was he to say no to Christopher? Jesse kissed him, expecting the warm reciprocation. He didn‟t quite expect Chris to push and pull at him, urging him over onto his back. “Chris?”

First Flight | Connor Wright 174 “Want,” Chris said, again, as he slithered over on top of Jesse. “Want, Jesse. Want you naked. Want to taste you, please?” “Sure, okay,” Jesse said, sliding his hands under Chris‟s pajama pants. Oh, yes, he‟d missed more than just Chris‟s lips; could hardly wait to be pressed up against a naked, willing Chris. “But you‟re kind of in my way. And also notnaked.” “I know,” he said, and then he kissed Jesse again instead of moving. Jesse‟s hands moved over his skin, squeezing, rubbing. He pressed Jesse down into the mattress. “Want.” The plaintive word served only to make him harder, and Jesse went from holding to pushing. “Move, then, so I can get you—yeah, there we go,” he said, shoving Chris‟s pants down. “You too,” Chris said, tugging at the tie of Jesse‟s pants. “Now.” “Yeah, yeah,” Jesse said, but he was smiling as he wriggled the soft fabric out of their way. “Come here.” Chris hummed into the kiss, his back bowing as he rubbed himself against Jesse. It was good, with Jesse warm and soft and hard all at once under him. “Not enough,” he mumbled, as Jesse gently bit the edge of his jaw, “more? Jesse, I think I need—we need to have more.” “More?” Jesse was all for more, but he wasn‟t sure what Chris had in mind. The last thing either of them needed was a misunderstanding, and a flash of guilt wracked him as he remembered the kiss under the tree. “More.” Chris sat up and pushed Jesse‟s shirt out of the way so he could touch. “Inside, it says join. Like it says eggs

First Flight | Connor Wright 175 are good and give Jesse things.” “Join?” “Bodies,” Chris said, then leaned over and kissed him. “Can we? Do humans do that?” “God, yes,” Jesse said, afterward, as soon as he understood what Chris was really asking for, “just gotta be sure Mom and Dad aren‟t home, okay?” He thought he might have risked it even if they were, just because Chris wanted it. Wanted him. “Both left. I heard them.” Chris ran his hands over Jesse‟s chest again. “Now?” Jesse pressed a hand to Chris‟s side. “Yeah, sure, now‟s fine. But we need to get our pants off and I need to go get a couple of things, okay?” “Oh-kay,” Chris said, moving off of Jesse. He kicked his pants off, then curled up in the corner of the bed to watch the other young man. “Hurry.” “I‟ll be there in a second,” Jesse said, pushing his own pajamas off of his feet. He sat up and peeled off his shirt, then got up and went over to the dresser. There they were, in the back, under socks missing their matches and some old shorts he hated: a little bottle and a couple of blue-and-white foil packets. He grabbed all three and carried them back to the bed. “Okay, so, you lay down here, okay?” Chris nodded and stretched out in the middle of the bed, his gaze on the things in Jesse‟s hands. “What do you have?” Jesse looked down, feeling weirdly nervous. “Uh, it says Bioinnovations Super-Slick Personal Lubricant,” he read off. “It‟s for making you slippery. And, um, these are condoms.” He held them up.

First Flight | Connor Wright 176 “Okay. What do we need those for?” He remembered Jesse offering to find a condom, the night that he‟d gone down. He hadn‟t asked, Jesse hadn‟t explained, and then he‟d been a bird, so he still didn‟t know what they were. “For making us slippery,” Jesse said, kneeling beside him, “and to make cleaning up easier and faster.” “Okay.” He reached over and ran his hand up Jesse‟s near leg, loving the feel of his skin. “Can we now?” Jesse leaned down and kissed him. “Yeah, we can. Hold still, okay?” He smiled at Chris and put his hand on his hip. “Yes.” Chris said, but he rearranged the pillows so he could look down the length of his body. It was so good to have it back, even if his feet were dumb again. At least he had thumbs and Jesse to make up for it. “Now what?” “Now I‟m going to put some of this on you, like this.” He popped the top on the lube and dribbled some across his fingers, then smeared it with his thumb before he stroked it over Chris‟s erection. “Oh, it is slippery. And kind of cold,” Chris said, even as he pushed up into Jesse‟s grasp. “But it‟s nice.” “Sorry,” he said. Jesse opened one of the condoms and held it up. “And now this goes on you, like this.” “It‟s green.” Chris watched, amused, as Jesse rolled the thin membrane down his cock. “It makes me look funny.” “I know.” He smiled at him, puddled more lube in his hand, and slicked it over the rubber. After a few passes, he set the bottle aside and swung his right leg over Chris‟s hips. “And now, it‟s time to do this.” “Okay,” Chris said, his curiosity replaced by a concerned frown as Jesse reached down behind himself and

First Flight | Connor Wright 177 got hold of Chris‟s cock. He lowered his body, then moved his hand before trying to settle down again. “What are you doing?” “I‟m just trying to….” Jesse bit his lip and adjusted his position again, then pressed himself down, against the head of Chris‟s cock. “Ah, there.” He waited, resisting the twin desires to rise and fall, as his body got used to Chris‟s size. “Oh, that‟s not—are you sure this is right?” Chris said, his frown and his concern deepening as he watched Jesse‟s face. “It‟s exactly right,” he said, pushing himself down a bit before stilling again. “God, it is so right.” The slick close heat of Jesse‟s body was better than his mouth, better than just sliding up against one another. It made him feel hot all over, made him need to move. “Want, Jesse, want more, okay?” “Ah, hey, not so fast,” Jesse said, rising up as Chris moved under him, into him. “I know, I know it‟s hard to wait, but I really need you to. It‟s been way too long.” “I will try,” Chris said, earnestly, his fingers passing lightly over Jesse‟s skin. “I like that you‟re kind of fuzzy. Been too long?” “Thanks.” Jesse slipped down again, a little farther than he had before. “Mm, yeah, can‟t remember the last time I did this. Don‟t want to remember. It‟s not important,” he said, then considered Chris‟s face. “Heh, I‟m fuzzy? I‟m scratchy, too. You‟re not, maybe because you‟re an adult raven?” He did his best to ignore the bizarre element of his words. “Maybe,” Chris said, reaching up and touching Jesse‟s stubble. He‟d never thought about it before, mostly because he didn‟t really care. “You feel nice all over.”

First Flight | Connor Wright 178 “Yeah?” Jesse caught Chris‟s hand and kissed his palm. “So do you.” Eventually, after plenty of kisses and more sweet silliness, Jesse moved off of Chris. “Oh, are we done, now?” How disappointing. Chris decided that since it wasn‟t quite as nice as the things they‟d done before, there wasn‟t any reason to do it again. Well, unless Jesse wanted to, anyhow. “Not even close,” Jesse said, tugging gently at his shoulder. “I just wanna trade places with you, okay? Let me lay down, there.” “Oh! Okay.” In that case, maybe it would get even better. He nodded and the two of them got rearranged. “Do you need one of these?” Chris pointed at the thin green sheath. He wedged a folded pillow into the small of his back. “No, not right now. I just need you to put some more of this on your dick there and, uh, fuck me. Please,” Jesse said, holding the little bottle out. “Fuck you?” Chris took the lube, carefully, looking it over before he opened it. “How much do I need?” “Yeah. Just enough so you‟re nice and slippery, but not so much that you‟re dripping all over.” “I don‟t know how,” Chris said, his face set as he concentrated on squeezing the cool bluish stuff into his hand. He closed the lube again and thought about what he knew of the word. “It‟s not a nice word, and it‟s a rude way of saying something about sex, so we don‟t say it when we don‟t want to make people mad.” Jesse watched as Chris‟s hand moved over the rubber. “Yeah, fucking can be a rude way of saying having sex, but it can also just mean that somebody really wants to do it. Like

First Flight | Connor Wright 179 me, right now.” “Words are a lot of trouble,” he said, his hands on his hips. “I‟m slippery, now.” “I know, so let‟s forget about them,” Jesse said as he pulled his knees up, reaching down between them to hold himself open. “Come here, okay?” “That’s where—I know you said it was, but….” Chris tilted his head, looking down at Jesse. “Are you sure? Are you sure this is right?” Jesse nodded. “Yeah, I‟m sure. It‟s okay, I promise. Just go ahead, but not too fast at first.” “If you say so.” He shuffled closer, then closer, then closer still. “You aren‟t moving. How do you stay so far away?” Chris grumbled and finally worked out how to get where he wanted to be. “There!” “Yeah, right there,” Jesse said, letting his legs relax and touching Chris‟s chest. “Remember how we were moving a minute ago?” “Yes, like this.” Chris lifted himself up, then pushed into Jesse again. “I like it, but….” “Right. But what? Not enough for you?” “No. More? Could we, could I move more?” He shifted backward, then forward again as Jesse hummed below him. He curved his spine and lifted his hips, biting his lip as Chris slipped a little deeper. “Oh, yeah, you can move. God, Chris, go for it, please.” “Yes!” A solemn nod and Chris let his body have its way. He was lost, for a minute or two, delighting in the motion and the way Jesse felt under him. Then the sounds that Jesse was making began to filter through and Chris stilled,

First Flight | Connor Wright 180 touching Jesse‟s face. “Jesse? Am I hurting you? Are you going to break?” “No, no, don‟t—God, you stopped! Huh?” Jesse forced himself to pay attention to Chris‟s worried face. “What‟s the matter?” “I did stop,” he said, nodding at Jesse. “The sounds you were making, I didn‟t know if you were hurt or maybe breaking.” “Oh! Oh, no, it‟s okay.” Jesse turned his head and kissed Chris‟s hand. It hadn‟t occurred to him that his obvious pleasure wouldn‟t be. “No, baby, it‟s good. You are good, God, so good, Chris. You feel so good and you‟re making me feel amazing, I promise.” “Okay,” Chris said, leaning down and kissing him. “So I can keep going?” “Please,” Jesse kissed him back, quick little pecks between each word, “please, please, please, Chris.” “Yes,” he said, and began to move once more. That—the closeness of joining—that was what he had waited for. He loved the way Jesse touched him, held him; loved the heat that surrounded him. “Y‟feel so good, Chris,” Jesse said, stroking himself, “‟M almost there. Don‟t stop, okay? So good, just don‟t stop.” “Won‟t,” Chris said, though the newly familiar tension was beginning to build within him. If it built too far, he might have to. It felt nice, though, and the way Jesse was talking to him was just adding to it. “God, God, so close, so good,” Jesse arched his back, tightened his legs, “I‟m gonna, God I‟m gonna—Chris!” “Want!” Chris could feel it, the thing inside him that was

First Flight | Connor Wright 181 ready to snap but wasn‟t quite there, if he just kept moving maybe it would. “Jesse, Jesse, it‟s….” “C‟mon,” Jesse panted, a last tiny shiver slipping over him as Chris thrust into him, “come for me.” He rose to meet him every time, touching his arms, his face, kept encouraging him. Chris cried out as the bright pleasure flared white behind his eyelids, as he curled up and went still for a long moment. Jesse petted Chris‟s hair, feeling stupidly content, until he heard Chris make a funny sound. “Chris?” He pulled free of Jesse‟ body, then wriggled around until he was lying beside the other man. Chris wiped sweat from his face, sniffed again, and heaved a shuddery sigh. “We joined bodies,” he said, quietly. “Yeah, we did. You okay?” Jesse kissed him on the forehead, then moved back so he could see Chris‟s face. “I‟m sleepy,” he said. “Is that okay?” Jesse kissed him again. “Me too, and yeah, it‟s fine. Try to stay awake for another couple minutes, ‟cause we need to get cleaned up before we go back to sleep.” “Oh, yes.” Chris looked along their bodies, his nose wrinkling. A second later, though, he was wiggling backward and then licking at Jesse‟s skin. “What‟re you doing?” “Cleaning up,” Chris said, moving his head a little and licking up another salty smear. “You taste good.” “That wasn‟t exactly what I had in mind, but if you like it….” He shrugged. “Am I not supposed to?” He looked up at Jesse.

First Flight | Connor Wright 182 Jesse put his hand on Chris‟s head. “If you like the way it tastes, then go for it. But when you‟re done there, I‟m gonna go get a towel or something, for the rest of it, okay?” “Okay, but that didn‟t answer my question,” Chris said, poking Jesse‟s side, smiling a little as the other man wiggled and made a funny noise. “There‟s no rule about it,” Jesse said, drumming his fingers against Chris‟s hair. “I promise.” “Good.” A few minutes later, after Jesse had declared them clean enough, Chris kissed him. “I‟m glad we did that.” “Yeah?” “Yes. It was good, better than mouths and better than just rubbing together. Can we do it again, soon? Is this the season for it? It‟s not spring, but people are different than birds.” Chris didn‟t like the thought of having to wait for joining-season to come around again. Thank God. The confirmation that Chris had enjoyed himself lifted a weight from him that Jesse hadn‟t realized was there. “We have to wait until we‟re ready again, but that‟ll take just a little while, like maybe twenty minutes? Maybe a little longer. And no, lucky us, we get to do it whenever we wanna. Or almost, since there‟re laws about having sex in public places and stuff.” “We do?” The possibilities were astonishing. “Is the tree in public?” “Kind of,” Jesse said, visions of Chris wanting to climb the tree and have sex flashing through his mind. “Uh, you don‟t want to, um, try doing it in the tree. Do you?” “I don‟t think we can,” Chris said, thinking about the

First Flight | Connor Wright 183 way Jesse had moved and the amount of room he‟d managed to take up on the bed. “Not enough room. But by the tree? This was very good, but it wasn‟t quite right. There was something missing, at the beginning.” “Something missing?” Well, true, he hadn‟t asked Chris to finger him, but that was because he was in a hurry and because he wasn‟t sure Chris would be willing. He had thought there had been plenty of kissing and touching, though. “Like what?” “I‟m not sure. I will have to think about it, but now I want to sleep.” Chris yawned and settled, warm and content. Kevin was gone, he‟d joined bodies with the one he‟d chosen, and the only thing that would keep them from doing it again was being sleepy and not ready for it. “I‟m happy you found me,” he murmured. “Me too, funny bird.” Jesse kissed the top of Chris‟s head and closed his eyes.

First Flight | Connor Wright 184

Epilogue JESSE kept an eye on his speed as they followed the unplowed length of Collins Road. It was mostly wet and sloppy, but slush turned to ice on the edges and he really didn‟t want to go into the ditch. The music couldn‟t go any louder, mostly because the crappy little speakers in the doors would start cutting out. Jesse flicked the knob anyhow, just a bit, pushing the sound system to its limit and glancing to his right. Chris smiled at him, reaching over and taking Jesse‟s hand as he sang along. “Just don‟t let go.” He squeezed Chris‟s hand and shook his head, then turned the volume down again. “It‟s kind of a safety thing. Do you want to stop?” Jesse lifted their hands and gestured at the old oak tree that stood near the shoulder, a quartermile ahead. “I know, and no—wait! Wait, yes, they‟re there!” Chris yanked his hand free and pointed at the dark shapes in the branches. “I will try to be fast.” “We don‟t really have a schedule,” Jesse said, as he pulled off the road. “Is it okay if I get out, too?” “Of course it is,” Chris said. “You‟re mine, and maybe they don‟t understand it, but they don‟t think it‟s bad, either. Come on.” The two of them picked their way over to the tree, Chris making his usual odd sounds as he went.

First Flight | Connor Wright 185 “Sings-like-water!” Light-on-water glided down to land on his shoulder, pushing her beak through the hair over his ear. “And your… mate?” The term was close enough, and Chris nodded. “Yes. My Jesse. We came to tell you that we are going away for a while, but we will come back, I promise.” “Going away?” Sees-caches landed on Chris‟s other shoulder, peering around the back of his head at Jesse. “Why?” “Jesse and I are going on a trip together,” Chris said, turning to look at the man. Jesse was standing still as Fellfrom-tree inspected his boots. “We will see different places, far away. I will take pictures of them, and when we come home, I will show them to you and tell you about what we saw. People do it all the time.” “But why? This is your home, and you are not a traveling-bird,” Light-on-water said, “not like the little singing ones that come in spring and go away again before the snow.” “It’s something people do,” Chris said, trying to remember how Jesse had explained it. “We like it here, but this is not the whole world. We aren’t going to see the whole world, this time, but we want to see more of it. I will learn things and eat new food, and… and it’s something people do, as mates. Jesse’s mother and father did it.” Which wasn‟t exactly what they were doing, but Leanna‟s description of a honeymoon was close enough. He‟d tried to reduce the complexities of everything that had happened since Kevin had painted Meyer‟s Market to something his family could understand, but he hadn‟t been able to do it. Finding a way to explain the need to be away from the circus that their lives had become was proving just

First Flight | Connor Wright 186 as disappointingly difficult. “And you will come back?” Sees-caches said, watching as Fell-from-tree pulled at the floppy wormy things on Jesse‟s feet. “Yes, we will, I promise. And I will bring you food, if I can.” Chris frowned a little as his brother untied Jesse‟s left boot, but he didn‟t say anything. “Jesse and I will keep each other safe. I wish I could call you on the phone, so I can tell you that I am all right.” He touched his parents, gently. “You must come back,” Light-on-water said, then tried tucking his hair back behind his ear. As usual, it wouldn‟t cooperate. “You must see Plays-with-stones and Finds-micewell and their hatchlings. They will pip very soon, and you are still her brother.” “I know, I know. I will, and I will bring them all something good to eat. I must go now, or we will have to sleep here under the tree.” “Be well,” Sees-caches said, then took off toward the tree. “Be well, my not-lost Sings-like-water,” Light-on-water said, running her beak through Chris‟s hair one last time. “Watch for hawks and eagles and don’t eat anything with big red spots. Keep your feathers neat and clean, and bring your mate good things to eat.” Chris leaned his head against Light-on-water for a moment, trying to figure out what he should say. Finally, he settled on, “I will be careful and clean and good to Jesse. We won’t eat bad things. I will see you when we come home. Be well.” Light-on-water flew over to join Sees-caches, and the two of them called Fell-from-tree away from Jesse. Chris

First Flight | Connor Wright 187 waved at his family, then followed Jesse back to the car. “Ready to go?” Jesse said, as he buckled his seatbelt. “Yes. I think my mother and father think I am more strange than Fell-from-tree, now,” Chris said. “I tried to tell them about our trip, and they didn‟t know why I want to go away. My mother did tell me to look for danger, that anything with red spots was bad to eat, to stay clean, and that I should feed you good things.” Jesse laughed as he pulled onto the road. “I knew it: moms are the same no matter what.” “Did Leanna tell you the same thing?” Chris remembered her hugging both of them in turn and telling them she loved them, telling them to be careful, and to call when they got to their destination for the night, but nothing about what to eat or washing. “Not exactly, but she did ask me if I‟d remembered to put the big bag of sand in the back of my car. Three times.” Jesse shrugged and reached over, touching Chris‟s hand for just a moment. “It‟s something moms do. The first time I went on an overnight trip by myself, Mom said all of the same stuff she said today.” “My mother said I have to come back to see Plays-withstones and her new family, because I am still her brother,” Chris said, looking over his shoulder. He could just make out the dark shapes of his family. “We‟ll come back. Tanner and Edie and Betsy and Lucas will all call us up and complain if we don‟t, after all.” “I know.” Chris watched until the tree and distance obscured his view, then settled down in his seat again. He reached over and turned up the stereo as the distinctive growl of Spider One‟s voice caught his attention. “I‟m going

First Flight | Connor Wright 188 with you,” he said, over the music. Jesse grinned at him, nodding along in time. “Awesome, ‟cause I‟m going with you too.” They sang along with the growly lyrics as Jesse turned his little car onto the highway, toward whatever their future held.

About the Author

CONNOR WRIGHT‟s head is full of other people‟s lives, all of which are far more interesting than his own. When he‟s not writing about unusual guys finding happy endings, he can be found riding his bike, looking after his oh-so-helpful cats, or walking other people‟s dogs. You can keep up with him at http://www.connorwrites.com.

Also by CONNOR WRIGHT

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

Copyright

First Flight ©Copyright Connor Wright, 2011 Published by Dreamspinner Press 382 NE 191st Street #88329 Miami, FL 33179-3899, USA http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Cover Art by Paul Richmond http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the Publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 382 NE 191st Street #88329, Miami, FL 33179-3899, USA http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/ Released in the United States of America November 2011 eBook Edition eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-211-4