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“We need to try it out,” Mikey says.
It’s the day of the Midnight Mass, and Gerard is terrified, because Father Tallie is a creep, and he wants Gerard present for the Mass — and Gerard hates it, hated since his parents deemed him old enough to be able to sit through the entire liturgy and started dragging him to the church every Christmas. And now that he has those things on his back there is no way he can pretend to be sick and skip it: Father Tallie insists, and this means his parents will make him go to the church even if he really was sick and dying.
“I’m not sure,” Gerard mutters.
Mikey gives him one of the many of his stubborn looks.
“Come on, we need to see if you really can fly or if they’re just an accessory!”
Gerard feels like he himself is an accessory, a dumb pretty thing to be dragged around by people like Father Tallie like some kind of trophy. Sometimes he wishes he was so stupid he was almost braindead, only capable of smiling and demonstrating his wings on command. Maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so much.
“Gee, come on,” Mikey’s almost begging now. “Just this once, okay?”
And, well, he has never been good at saying ‘no’ to his brother.
They take their parents’ car (‘steal’ might be the proper word, but hey, they’re going to return it) and drive to the nearest grove. Nobody is going to look for them there, at least for long enough for them to test out Gerard’s wings.
First thing Gerard does when they arrive is take off his coat. He really hates this part: for some reason his wings have a tendency to rip through his clothes, and the only solution he managed to come up with was cutting holes in all his T-shirts where the wings connect to his back.
“Ready?” Mikey asks.
Gerard nods and gets out of the car. He is not ready for this. He isn’t sure he will ever be ready.
A gust of the wind makes him shiver — it’s freezing cold even in the old sweater Gerard sacrificed for this. They should have waited until spring when it’s not so cold. If everything goes according to their plan they will be living with Grandma by that time, and there will be no Father Tallie to order him around, no parents to tell him how grateful he must be for being chosen by God. Gerard doesn’t feel chosen. He feels like an exotic animal in a sideshow, put on display for people to gape and point fingers at him.
He climbs on the car roof and spreads out his wings. It’s a strange sensation, to have the wind fluff up his feathers.
Mikey stands next to him.
“Well?” he asks, clearly impatient. “You gonna stand here all day or what?”
Gerard shrugs. “I just— gimme some time, okay?”
He just needs a moment to collect himself, and then he will do it. Hopefully.
“I did some reading on birds,” Mikey says. “You know how they teach their babies to fly?”
“How?”
Mikey pushes him.
Instinctively Gerard closes his eyes and brings his hands to his face to protect it from connecting with the ground. The impact never comes, but there is something else, something tugging at the skin on his back. It almost doesn’t hurt.
When Gerard finally dares to open his eyes, he’s still in the air, about eight feet above the ground, and Mikey is watching him from the car roof with a dumb grin on his face.
“You’re such an asshole!” Gerard shouts at him. He can barely hear himself over the flapping of his wings.
“You like it, shut up!”
The worst thing is, Mikey’s right: Gerard loves it, the feeling of being so high in the air, finally free.
His body knows what to do, like he has always had wings, like he has done it a thousand times before, and, following the instinct, he goes higher, above the treetops, and makes a small circle above the grove. He can see his town from up here, roofs covered in snow, and, further east, Route 21 and a glimpse of the Passaic River separating Belleville from Kearney.
It would have been so easy to leave right now. Just take off and go as far as he can, to New York and further, past Long Island and across the ocean, until his body gives out, and this is when he will be so far away Father Tallie will never find him.
But then Mikey would be alone, and hell knows what would happen next. Maybe nothing, or maybe he would be blamed for Gerard’s escape — he isn’t blind, he noticed the way his brother has been treated ever since Gerard got his wings, — and Mikey may be strong but he’s still a kid, he shouldn’t be suffering because of Gerard. This just isn’t fair.
“Dude, this is so fucking cool!” Mikey shouts as Gerard glides closer to the ground. “Do another one!”
Gerard grabs him by the hands and flies up — not too high, they’re barely three feet above the ground, and still Mikey lets out an excited shriek. It feels almost natural, as if they have been doing this for years now.
Gerard knows that tonight, after the end of the Mass, he will have to stand in front of the altar, Feather Tallie’s hand clenching his shoulder, pinning him to the ground, and people will come asking him for a blessing (it’s almost funny: just before that fateful Sunday the same very people have been giving him judgmental looks because of a rumour about him and some guy from the football team), and they will be touching his wings, and some will try to kiss his hands as if he really is an angel of the Lord and not a terrified socially awkward teenager who suddenly got more attention than he ever wanted.
It’s not for long, Gerard tells himself. He just needs to make it through this week, and after that everything will be okay. He needs it, this little hope to hold on to, so that he doesn’t lose his mind completely.
Just hold on a little bit longer. He managed to take flight from the first try, and this is already more than most people can do. He can hold on.
Hopefully.