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Parrot is dead. He knows he's dead because he comes to and the bone-deep exhaustion of life is no longer heavy in his body. Parrot stares at a sky that is perfectly blue and cloudless, and he is dead. He doesn't remember dying. He remembers being sick, remembers his body finally failing him after years of abuse. Parrot remembers being bedridden, watching rain against the windowpanes, his eyes so heavy. He remembers knowing.
He sits up. He's on grass, and around him are wildflowers in a rainbow of color, a stream no thicker than the trunk of an oak tree. Parrot can't see the sun, but it's bright out. Is this Heaven? he wonders.
After all he'd done in life, he never expected to end up here. As he thinks that, Parrot forgets, only for a moment, what his life even was. He blinks, and the memories are there again.
When Parrot stands, his legs are steady. He's not wearing his armour—just simple clothes, black pants, a white tunic. The stream is the only noise he hears. No animals, no wind. Parrot leans over the water and catches his shadowy reflection. He looks like himself, maybe a little younger.
"Parrot?"
When he turns, Parrot’s legs give out. He drops to one knee in the flowers but doesn't feel it at all. He stands, though Wifies is already halfway there to meet him.
"Parrot," he says again.
Once he's close enough, Parrot hugs him. He doesn't care. He presses himself into Wifies chest and breathes him in, feels how solid he is against him. Wifies squeezes him, fingertips digging into the skin of his back. It doesn't hurt, but then, nothing does anymore.
"Wifies," Parrot says, for the first time in what's felt like a century.
--
Wifies takes him to a cottage. It's open and vulnerable in the field, something they never had the luxury of in their former lives. Parrot follows him, both of them silent, though even after years apart, right now Parrot feels like only a day has passed. Still, it's strange to see Wifies like this—in one piece, not covered in blood. He looks relaxed, happy, his hair loose over his eyes. Inside, the cottage smells like lavender is full of sunshine. Wifies fills the kettle with water and sets it on the stove. He's smiling.
"Tea?" he asks, speaking for the first time.
"I remember you liked it."
"Yeah," Parrot says. Then, "Are we in Heaven?"
Wifies pulls bread from the breadbox and says, "I think so. I never asked."
Parrot doesn't get to question who he could have asked. Wifies sets the bread down and puts his hands on Parrot’s shoulders. He's solid. He feels like the first solid thing Parrot’s ever known.
"I'm happy you're here," Wifies says. "I was waiting for you."
The sob that claws its way out of Parrot’s throat surprises him. He ducks his head down, embarrassed, and knows he is dead. He is finally, finally dead. He was so tired, and Wifies was so gone. Now, he's here. They both are. Parrot steps away from Wifies touch and stares at the table instead. He waits for his chest to stop aching, which it does by the time the kettle whistles. Wifies pours them tea and they sit at the table to eat. Parrot is surprised to find he's hungry. He hadn't considered death would require anything like food. But the tea is the best he's ever tasted, the bread fresh like it was just baked.
"It's not real hunger," Wifies says, watching him. "But it tastes good, doesn't it?"
Parrot nods, and eats. Minutes pass between them in silence, and Parrot’s feet itch. He waits for Wifies to say something. Anything. He drinks his tea with infuriating contentedness.
"Wifies," Parrot says. "Stop sitting there looking so damn sentimental…tell me something."
Wifies dips the last of his bread into his tea and swallows it. "Like what?"
"What have you been doing?" Parrot asks. "What happens now?"
He hears footsteps outside. Parrot jerks upright, hands curling to fists. Wifies doesn't move. When the door opens, there is a man holding a book, glasses slipping down his nose. He sees Parrot and blinks once before smiling. His face wrinkles with his smile.
"Oh," he says. "So, he's finally here."
Parrot doesn't recognize the man.
"Who are you?"
Behind him, Wifies laughs softly.
"Parrot, this is my father."
Parrot grips the back of the chair to steady himself. This shouldn't be a surprise, though it's still hard to wrap his head around. They're all dead—why wouldn't Wifies father be here? He's a man Parrot had only heard of in story, usually during late nights when he and Wifies were in his room trying to save what little of their damned world that they could. He looks like Wifies, just older and a little rounder in his features with a neatly trimmed beard. He hands the book to Parrot and explains that he picked it up in town and thought Wifies might enjoy it. Wifies thanks him.
"Maybe we'll all have dinner once Parrot is settled in," Wifies father says.
"Is this what death is?" Parrot asks.
"Constant eating?"
Wifies father laughs, looks at him.
"You're exactly like Wifies described," he says.
Parrot doesn't know what to do with that information, Wifies talking about him, Wifies waiting for him. He's hesitant to admit it, even now in death, but Parrot was waiting for him, too. When he knew he was dying, his first thought was of Wifies. He wondered if he'd see him again. He imagined it—coming to, and in the fog seeing Wifies waiting there with his hands out. Parrot supposed the inconvenience of dying would be worth it, if only for that.
"Dad," Wifies says. "Maybe you could handle teaching alone for a few days."
Parrot moves his gaze back over to Wifies.
"Teaching? You teach?"
"Well, not everyone here is an adult…" Wifies trails off.
"Of course, I'm sure you two have a lot to catch up on," Wifies father says. He says he'll see them again later. They have all the time they need.
Wifies nods. "I guess we do now."
"It was good to finally meet you." Wifies father turns to Wifies, and they hug. Wifies clings to him with a tenderness that Parrot feels rude for seeing. He knows how much Wifies father meant to him. He blamed himself for his death. Parrot isn't sure if blame exists in Heaven. There might not be a place for it. He watches the two separate, and Wifies father disappears with a wave out the front door.
For the first time since he'd arrived, Parrot lets go of the back of the chair. He realizes he had been nervous. He wants Wifies father to like him.
"Where does he live?" he asks.
"In town." Wifies collects their empty teacups from the table. "He likes people, but I'm more apt for solitude."
Parrot has questions. Too many. How did Wifies find his father? How did he and Parrot end up so close to one another? How big, exactly, is Heaven? What does infinity look like? Parrot wipes his hands off on his tunic and joins Wifies by the sink. He remembers then that they aren't the only ones who've died.
"What about the others?"
Wifies looks up. "Others?"
"Yeah…you know, Dean, Luigi."
There's a brief, horrifying moment where Wifies looks like he has no idea what Parrot is talking about. His face blanks, then his eyes flicker in recognition.
"I've never seen them," he says.
Parrot tries to imagine them in Hell, and finds he can't. If anyone belonged there, it'd be him. Not them. He reflexively takes the teacups from Wifies and dries them on the cloth by the sink. The sun is lower on the horizon, now. Parrot wonders if night ever comes here.
"I never looked," Wifies says. "Truthfully, I…when I died, I found my father immediately. That felt like more than I deserved already."
"But you found me," Parrot says.
Wifies doesn't pause. "You're different, Parrot."
The back of Parrot’s neck burns. Wifies has always been candid with him, but death seems to have killed his filter altogether. Parrot never broke the habit of getting flustered when he talks like this.
He can't help it, though, their relationship was always different. Closer. They toed the line between friendship and romance, but never got beyond touches that lingered too long. Parrot tried to define what they were to himself several times before giving up on it. They were Wifies and Parrot. They just were. Everything else was unsaid.
"I hated it," Parrot says. "After you died. Nothing was right. I was lost in some shitty world I didn't know what to do with anymore."
"I'm sorry," Wifies says, with a sincerity that is startling. "I am. I'm so sorry, Parrot. We're here now, though. There are no enemies, no monarchs. It's just us."
Parrot nods and looks again at the home Wifies has created here for himself. The exposed wood beams are all cherry oak, and herbs grow in a windowsill. Some of the furniture looks carved by hand. And there are books in every corner, on every surface. He'd dreamed of this reality sometimes, selfishly. It's hard to believe that it's true now.
"I can't believe you managed to look after yourself without me bossing you around," Parrot says.
Wifies laughs and wipes his hands.
"The afterlife changes you."
--
Night, as it turns out, does fall in Heaven. The sky is a darkened blue now, but there are no stars. Parrot sits on Wifies back porch and watches the sky, another cup of tea in his hand. They haven't said much more to each other, which is fine. Parrot’s head is still buzzing trying to understand everything that's happened. Tomorrow, Wifies is taking him into town so he can get more accustomed to things.
But Parrot is fine to stay in tonight. He likes being here alone with Wifies. After he died, Parrot had to face the very real possibility that he'd never see him again, not even in death. He didn't even have a photograph of Wifies to hold onto. Some nights, Parrot would sit and make himself recall every detail he could remember about Wifies face, alone and unable to sleep.
The back door opens. Wifies joins him quietly at the table.
"You should stay here tonight," he says. "I have a spare room you can sleep in."
Parrot lets out a huff of breath. The idea seems preposterous, and the thought of staying here, in Wifies home, almost too intimate.
"You need sleep in Heaven?" he says. "That's weird."
"It's refreshing, actually."
Parrot presses his fingertip into the wood.
"You can relax now, Parrot," Wifies says. "You can."
Parrot ghosts a laugh, the fleshy tip of his finger turned white from pressing into the table. He isn't sure he knows how anymore.
"All right," he says.
Wifies puts him in the spare room, but Parrot doesn't sleep. He isn't tired. He never slept much alive, anyway. He lays awake in bed and the silence is unnerving, though Parrot doesn't think it should be.
There's no wind, no bugs chirping. Parrot slips from his bed and makes a quiet path to Wifies room, but doesn't go in. Outside the door, barely cracked open, Parrot can hear Wifies breathing. It's familiar, and all at once Parrot feels more at ease. He crouches down on the floor and listens, pulse timed to the rhythm of Wifies
breath, until his eyes close of their own accord. He snaps awake just as the sun is rising. Parrot hears Wifies shift in bed and runs on his toes back to his own room, the sound of Wifies following him.
--
Town isn't very big. There are a few stores, a few houses, but it feels more barren than Parrot anticipated. Heaven, or at least, from the stories he'd heard, should have been sprawling, a metropolis.
With how many people have died in the world, there's no way they're all here, in this little village. Wifies doesn't seem bothered by the size of the town. The buildings remind Parrot of those just inside Zam’s Empire, straight-edged and clean. There's a man standing outside the market sweeping. When he sees Wifies and Parrot, he pauses to wave at them. He looks familiar, almost.
There are children, too, just like Wifies said. They approach Wifies and run circles around him, delighted. They point to Parrot and demand to know who he is.
"This is Parrot," Wifies tells them, and they all gasp.
"You're finally here!"
"You’re grabbing my shirt hard," Parrot says to one before they run off into the forest.
They manage to walk to the market without anyone else approaching them.
Parrot doesn't see anyone he knows, and he wonders where everyone else is. There must be more to this place. Maybe that's where the others are.
Parrot pauses on the grass. Others. He has to think deliberately of others he’s known names that have passed. It feels like trying to catch onto a dream. Wifies stops with him, hands loose at his sides. The weather is exactly like it was yesterday—sunny and warm.
"Are you all right?" he asks.
The sun is a halo behind Wifies head, and the anxiety in Parrot’s chest fizzles out. He says he's fine, and means it. They walk into the market together and buy fruit.
After, Wifies picks up wood to build a coffee table. He tells Parrot that they have everything they need here, and always what they need. It all feels so easy and safe that if he weren't with Wifies, Parrot might be bored. He's never had time for boredom before.
On their way out of town, Wifies points to a brick building with a slanted roof and tells Parrot that's the school he and his father teach at. It's only one room, but it's enough. Parrot readjusts the planks of wood under his arm as a woman approaches them. She has soft orange curls and a bright face.
"Sorry to bother you," she says. "But are you the noble Parrot?"
Parrot, on instinct, readies himself for a confrontation. He looks to Wifies for what to do—Wifies is at ease. He smiles, nods.
"I don't think I'm really noble anymore,"
Parrot says, taking the cue. "But yeah."
"Well," the woman says. "That's wonderful. Wifies mentioned you quite a bit."
"Oh?" Parrot turns in time to see Wifies crane his neck away, distracted by some imaginary noise. "He must be pretty bored here to talk me up."
"Lucia, you embarrass me," Wifies says.
He nudges Parrot with his elbow to get them moving. Lucia laughs.
"I'm sorry," she says. "It's just nice to finally meet him."
"Okay," Parrot says, awkwardly. He never learned how to handle these kinds of interactions. "I'm not anything special."
Lucia's face dampens. She looks more hurt than she should, as if she's known Parrot for years and can't stand to hear him doubt himself. Parrot blinks, wood planks heavy under his arm, until Wifies nudges them along again.
"Excuse us," he says.
They walk back together, Wifies standing very close to him. It isn't until he sees Wifie’s house on the horizon that Parrot says, "This part of Heaven is full of weirdoes."
Wifies laugh echoes, relieved.
"Yes," he says. "It is."
--
Parrot stays in the spare room again that night. This time, he sleeps, and wakes in the morning without startling. He can't remember the last time he slept through the night. He feels good, and the only way Parrot can think to describe it is like there's a sun in his chest now. Something bright.
When he goes downstairs, Wifies is there waiting for him, tea ready. They sit outside, and again there is no wind, no animals. Parrot is starting not to mind. He runs his finger over the table and squints.
"Where is the dirt?" he asks.
Wifies looks down.
"Do you want there to be dirt?"
He doesn't know yet, actually. It's almost off-putting, for things to be so clean, which Parrot never expected. Much as he loathes filth, Parrot always gotten a certain satisfaction out of cleaning.
"I'm just trying to figure out if I rubbed off on you, or if this place is really that great," he says.
"Give me some credit," Wifies says, lip jutting behind the rim of his teacup.
Parrot looks out to the horizon and wonders again how far this place really goes. He wants to know who's in charge of all this, why the tea is so good and the food so satisfying and his heart so content. Next to him, Wifies asks him what he wants to do today.
"We should build that coffee table," Wifies says. "Don't you think?"
Parrot thinks that maybe they should venture out. They've found each other, they should look for everyone else, too.
But the idea of doing something so simple with Wifies is too tempting. They never got the chance to do anything like this alive, and it's the only thing he really wants right now. Besides, they have time.
"All right," he says, draining his tea. "Let's do it."
They spend all day sanding the wood down and cutting it. They work outside in the sun and Parrot sweats but doesn't feel dirty. Wifies made most of the furniture in his house, because he had the time to do it. Time here passes the same way it does in life, but Wifies admits the days began to blur together for him, and he doesn't know how long it's been.
"A long time," Parrot tells him, and does not say that he knows the exact year, month, and day.
By the time evening rolls settles, they decide to break for the day. Wifies father is coming over for dinner. Parrot takes a quick bath to clean up. When he finally gets back downstairs, Wifies father is already there cutting vegetables. He says hello to Parrot with a warmth like he's known him for years already.
Parrot remembers that Wifies apparently spent more than half his afterlife talking him up, and frowns out of embarrassment.
He helps by filling a pot with fresh water and then stays out of the way. Wifies and his father have their own routine together, move practically in sync with one another.
Parrot watches from the table. Their movements are so similar. There's no mistaking them as being anything but related.
Wifies and his father get into an animated discussion about the history of currency over dinner that is weirdly satisfying to watch. Wifies hand gestures are excited, reminds Parrot of how he used to get after thinking up a good script for a book he’d like to write. He listens over his dinner of meat and vegetables and bread. Parrot has no idea how the meat got there, since he hasn't seen one damn animal since he died, but he doesn't question it.
"The point is," Wifies father says, as if they've had this debate many times, "Coins and paper money were easiest for the government to track. Wouldn't you agree, Parrot?"
Parrot swallows down a carrot. "All I know is I never liked people with too much money."
Wifies father turns back to Wifies and says, "I knew I'd like him."
Parrot spears another carrot and can't meet Wifies gaze.
Later, they sit on the back porch and Wifies is inside opening a soda. It's night, now, but Parrot can still see out for miles in the darkness. Wifies father touches Parrot’s shoulder, gentle.
"It's good you're here," he says.
"No it’s not," says Parrot
Wifies father stares at him, dumbstruck.
Parrot fidgets with the edge of his shirt. He doesn't want to snap at Wifies father, he doesn't, but he can't stand this anymore.
"Everyone keeps saying that but they don't know shit about me. Wifies been too kind."
Parrot grabs his glass and drains the rest of the liquid in it quickly. Wifies father says nothing else.
--
He can't sleep, that night. Parrot lays awake in bed and watches the ceiling beams for what feels like hours before he finally gets up and walks by Wifies room.
The door is cracked open again, and Parrot listens for the sounds of his sleep. Wifies calls to him from inside.
"Parrot," he says.
Parrot jerks away from the door and feels caught.
"Sorry. I woke you."
"I was already awake," Wifies says. "Just come in."
Parrot waits for a beat and then pushes the door open. Wifies is sitting up in bed.
He turns the bedside lamp on and pushes the covers back, an invitation for Parrot to sit, so he does. Wifies legs are stretched out right behind him. Parrot angles his head left so they can actually look at each other. Wifies hair is pushed in all directions out his bandana, and he has to resist the urge to smooth it back for him.
"I never thanked you," Wifies says.
"For what?"
"For letting me die."
Parrot swallows. He feels cold for the first time since he got here. Looking at Wifies becomes difficult, so Parrot looks at the bed sheets instead.
"You think you were wrong," Wifies says.
His father must have said something. Parrot shakes his head.
"I didn't want to let you die, you idiot," he says. "But I wasn't going to live that way. I finally had something I could give you."
That memory has never faded, even after all those years passed. The smell of fear was so heavy that day. Wifies had never looked weaker, and Parrot knew he made the right choice, but even that didn't make it easier. He wants to tell Wifies that.
"You must have hated me after," Wifies says. "I understand—"
"No," Parrot says. "You don't, because I didn't. I didn't hate you, not once. Maybe I should have let you go sooner."
He feels hysterical now and his hands are shaking. He looks up when Wifies grabs hold of them to calm him, his palms larger and warm.
"Parrot," he says, a whisper. "Parrot, please."
"I didn't know what to do."
Wifies thumb strokes the skin of his hand, and he says, "I was so selfish." Then he kisses Parrot. It's a soft kiss, hesitant. Parrot barely feels the chapped skin of his lips before Wifies pulls away.
"I'm sorry," Wifies says. "I wish I had done that while we were alive."
"Shut up," Parrot says. "Kiss me again."
Wifies absolutely breaks. He cups Parrot’s jaw and kisses him, this time with intent, mouth full against his. He pulls Parrot across the mattress to him, as if he wants to pull Parrot’s body into his own.
Parrot makes a startled noise in his throat and kisses back. He's half in Wifies lap, swings a leg over Wifies leg so he actually can be. It gives him better leverage to press himself against Wifies. He cradles the back of his head and kisses him, lets himself be kissed, body sighing into it.
Eventually, Wifies pulls away and presses their foreheads together, looks at him with utter adoration. Parrot can't control his breathing.
"Stay with me tonight," Wifies says. "Please."
Parrot nods against him. He rests his head over Wifies heart and listens to the beat of it, steady, steady, throughout the night.
--
The days pass like they're nothing. There is no countdown to anything. They have eternity. Parrot sets himself up quite comfortably in Wifies room, now their room, and suddenly, they have a life together. Mornings, Wifies usually wakes up first. He'll pad downstairs and make them both a cup of tea, bring it up and settle back into bed with Parrot, who likes to cocoon under the covers until Wifies absolutely insists they do something else.
The coffee table is finished, though now Parrot thinks they should make some extra chairs. Wifies jokes about making him a stool so he can reach the high cupboards, and Parrot puts his cold feet against Wifies legs.
If they aren't at the house, they're in town at the school. Wifies and his father teach there a few days a week, mostly history.
Parrot likes to sit in the back and watch them. If things had turned out differently when they were alive, Parrot thinks Wifies could have done this, truly. He's good with kids and he knows what he's talking about. Takes after his father. The kids also adore Parrot, and he doesn't get why. He just corrals them when they get rowdy and gives them a stern look when they're not paying attention. They follow him like ducklings, much to Wifies amusement.
"I think they'd all let you adopt them," he says on the way home, arm around Parrot’s shoulders.
"No way," Parrot says. "I'd never have peace again."
Wifies father comes over for dinner some evenings. He doesn't seem at all surprised or disturbed by their relationship.
Sometimes, Wifies and Parrot will go to his house instead. It's a small place, and there's a spare room still decorated like a child's room, Wifies room, Parrot realizes. It amuses him to think of Wifies as a a kid, face owlish and curious, but he has no idea why the room is set up like this. Some memories follow, he supposes.
They'll stay until Wifies is dopey with sleep and Parrot has to convince him to go home, and on the walk back Wifies is always suddenly awake again and kissing Parrot’s neck.
"What else do you want?" Parrot asks over his shoulder.
He's using the countertop for leverage, standing upright while Wifies kisses him from behind, because neither of them could wait to get upstairs. Wifies slows in his kisses but doesn't stop, eyes glazed.
"Nothing," Wifies says, and kisses up the back of Parrot’s neck. "I don't need anything else."
--
The best moments are always when they're alone and Parrot remembers that they have nothing to worry about. The best moments are when they're reading together, quiet and happy for hours. The best moments are when Parrot wakes up and Wifies is watching him like he still can't quite believe they have this. The best moments, when Wifies holds him, and they stay wrapped in each other for what feels like a hundred lifetimes.
--
He's at the market one night when Lucia approaches him. Wifies is back at home preparing lessons for the kids, which is fine, because whenever he shops he buys junk food anyway. Parrot bags a few apples when Lucia waves to him.
"The apples look good," she says.
Parrot nods. "Everything always does, here."
She walks with him, her basket full of vegetables.
"Wifies at home?" she asks.
"Yeah, he can't be trusted to shop alone."
"My mother is the same way," Lucia says. "Buys nothing but cheese."
Parrot’s skin tingles. Mother. Mother.
Something flashes and settles into his head, something he can't grasp just yet.
Parrot stops walking and shuts his eyes, waits. His mind races past days, maybe months. He pulls until something starts to surface, like a flower tugged from the earth. Mother. His mother. Parrot opens his eyes.
"Are you all right?" Lucia asks.
"Mother," Parrot says, not to her, but to himself.
He'd forgotten her. He'd completely forgotten her, forgotten. Parrot drops his basket. He forgotten Dean and Luigi and—, forgot everything—
"Parrot—"
Parrot walks out of the market. Once he gets to the street, he runs.
He throws the door of the house open and Wifies jumps up so quickly from the table that his chair falls over. He sees Parrot and his face drops. Parrot can barely keep his gaze in one place. He's afraid to stop repeating everyone's names. He hears Wifies breathe into the silence.
"Parrot? What's wrong?"
"My mother is dead," Parrot says.
Wifies stares.
"I forgot her," Parrot says. "I forgot my mother. Where is she?"
"I…" Wifies grapples for an answer Parrot knows he doesn't have. "I don't know, Parrot."
Parrot tenses and relaxes his knees. He doesn't understand, and he needs to.
"She has to be here. If anyone deserves to be here, it's her."
He only mentioned his mother to Wifies once. Just once, he told him that she died when he was very young. He didn't give any other details, and Wifies didn't press for them. She has to be here. Parrot knows she is—maybe not in this town, but the next. There has to be a way to find her.
"We'll look, then," Wifies says, as if reading his mind. "I'm sorry, I didn't think—"
"It's not your fault," Parrot says.
She's here. And just knowing that they'll look lets Parrot breathe easier, but something pulls at the back of his mind still like a warning. Wifies approaches him and pulls him into a hug that Parrot returns easily. He can see Wifies notes for teaching spread all over the table when they pull away, excited little scribbles.
"We can start tonight," Wifies says.
"It's dark."
Wifies keeps a hand on him, cupping the back of his neck.
"What do you want to do?" he asks.
Parrot leans into Wifies hand and the warmth of it. He's suddenly exhausted. He's never felt that here before.
"I'm tired," he says.
"All right, then we'll sleep now." Wifies thumb brushes just under his jaw. "Tomorrow at dawn, we'll head out and look for her."
Wifies leaves his school notes on the table and goes upstairs with Parrot to bed, hand on his lower back. He seems insistent on keeping close to him right now. Parrot is strangely okay with being selfish and having Wifies forgo teaching to look for his mother with him.
He and Wifies wash up silently, then slip under the covers together. Parrot rolls himself close to Wifies immediately, body pressed against his side. He throws an arm and leg over him like a tether. Once Wifies arm curls over him, Parrot shuts his eyes, and sleep takes him.
--
He wakes up before first light. Parrot sits up in the moonlight and Wifies arm falls from him. He feels like an alarm is blaring in his mind, the feeling from earlier is back twice as strong and it's telling him that something is wrong, something is wrong.
Without thinking, Parrot gets out of bed, out of the bedroom, downstairs. He looks out the window of the kitchen and sees how still the night is. Too still, and there's never any wind, never any sounds. Parrot doesn't know why it's just now hitting him, how creepy it all feels. And his mother, where is she? He feels sick for having forgotten her. There wasn't one day in life that he didn't think of her. Why would death be that different?
Parrot opens the front door and sticks a hand out into the night, palm up. It feels like there's no air at all. The alarm blares again, this time squeezing at his heart. Parrot inhales. Then, he runs.
He runs toward town. The buildings come into view like they're being pulled toward him, all them darkened and quiet. Parrot runs straight through town and into the trees at the edge and runs through those. He comes out to a clearing of flowers. Parrot doesn't slow. He keeps running, up until he sees a house in the distance. It's a house he recognizes. It's Wifies house.
Parrot’s breath catches in his lungs and he slows. That's impossible, because he ran the opposite direction, and he knows it. He must have made some kind of mistake. Parrot starts running again. After a few minutes, he's back in town, so he turns left this time into the forest. He comes into the clearing again.
"No," he says. "No."
Parrot tries one more time, but he already knows what's going to happen. He comes out again into the clearing. It's a loop. He and Wifies are living in a loop that Parrot can't run out of. He braces his hands on his knees and lets his breath come back to him. A bead of sweat rolls off his hair in the darkness and drops into the grass.
Parrot stands again and walks back to the house.
Wifies is waiting for him. He's still in his pajamas and standing useless in the kitchen like he doesn't know what to do.
Parrot doesn't give him a moment to be relieved when he walks back in—he goes right up to him, panting, and tells him.
"That can't be," Wifies says.
"Have you ever tried to walk out of town?"
Parrot asks. "There's nothing, Wifies. It takes you right back here."
Wifies rubs a hand over his face. His eyes are sharp now, and awake. He glances out the window.
"How is that?"
"Do you want to check?"
"No," Wifies says. "I believe you. I just..."
His notes for school are still on the table. Wifies flips through them for a blank page and pushes the rest aside. He grabs his pen from the edge of the table and sits, shoulders tense. It reminds Parrot of when they'd make plans in his office. Parrot stands at his shoulder and watches over it as Wifies draws an oval, and inside that, their house, town, the forest.
"You're saying we're set up like this, right?" Wifies draws a line from the forest to their house. "And once you hit the edge of the forest, it loops you back to the meadow?"
"Yeah," Parrot says. "So what is this? Hell?"
"Can't be," says Wifies. "My father is here."
"Right, but…" Parrot thinks of when he mentioned some others and Wifies seemed not to even know who they were. He himself had forgotten them. "Wifies, why did I forget people?"
Wifies taps his pen against the paper. It leaves small ticks of black ink in its wake.
"Wifies," Parrot says. "What was the name of my old team?"
Wifies stops tapping the pen. His eyes blink but there's no recognition.
"What?"
"Their names, Wifies. You knew their names."
The silence that follows becomes an anxiety. Something is wrong. Parrot knew that already, but now he knows it's not just him that's being affected. Wifies forgotten as well. Eventually, Wifies leans forward and clenches his fists.
"I don't know," he says. "I forgot, I forgot they were even—"
Wifies pushes the chair out abruptly and stands. Parrot watches and waits. It scares him that Wifies doesn't remember, and it scares him how few answers Wifies has. Parrot thinks he’s never been a strategist or a deep thinker. He's always been fine with letting Wifies do that, and taking the lead from him. Now, they're both floundering for answers.
"I need some time to think," Wifies says. "I'm sorry, but I have to ask that of you."
"I'll wait," Parrot says.
Wifies and kisses his temple before going out the back door. Parrot makes tea after the door's shut. He can't stand to sit around and do nothing like this. He drinks the tea too quickly, deciding after that he'll clean, even though there's no mess.
Parrot washes his cup and the teakettle, then wipes down the countertops, the table. There are small scuff marks on the floor from where they push the chairs out, so Parrot wipes those out as best he can without proper cleaning fluid.
He just wants to know where they are, and if there's a way to see his mother. Parrot is fine with everything else. He has Wifies, now, and there are no hunts or enemies after them. They're so close to being fully at peace, though Parrot isn't sure now if they'll get it. He doesn't even know if peace is something they deserve. For a while, he'd though they had it. Maybe that was enough.
Parrot’s wiping the counters down for a third time when Wifies comes back inside.
The sun is up now, just barely, its orange fingers stretching over the horizon. Parrot freezes at Wifies face—the stricken, haunted look. His eyes have dulled and Parrot doesn't breathe.
"I'm sorry," Wifies says. "I'm so sorry."
"What? Tell me."
"I think we're in purgatory," Wifies says.
Parrot finally exhales, but it's painful. He lets go of the cloth and stands upright again. His movements feel very stiff and slow.
"Purgatory?"
Wifies doesn't say anything else right away. Parrot can tell that he's hesitating.
"Just tell me," Parrot says. "I can handle it."
"I think I created this world for us," Wifies says. "My subconscious—my memories, or at least, the ones I wanted to keep, those are here. My father had already died. The only thing missing was you. Parrot, I did this. I wanted you with me so badly—"
"You didn't bring me here," Parrot says. "Don't…give yourself that much credit, come on."
He swallows heavily. "I wanted to be with you also. So maybe I brought myself here."
Wifies eyes flash. "Parrot," he says.
"I mean it, you bastard."
"Either way, I've created what I've created. I'm not sure there was room for everything. That's why your memories are fading."
"Your mind is eating them," Parrot says.
He understands, because there is nothing else that makes sense, and nothing else to make sense of. Wifies wasn't at peace when he died. He wasn't finished, so maybe he couldn't go yet. He lingered here, stuck. Parrot inhales for what feels like the first time in minutes. His lungs are tight, and he feels an awful ache in his chest at the thought of Wifies here alone with nothing but his projections of his memories for years. But they know, now. They've figured it out, haven't they? And Parrot is here now, so…
"Can't we leave?" he asks. "You know what's up, just tell your mind to stop playing tricks. Let us go wherever we need to go."
Wifies winces. He's still standing in the doorway, and Parrot hates that he hasn't come close to him. So Parrot goes to Wifies, ignores the way Wifies tenses from guilt, and grabs his hand.
"Wifies, let's leave. Your real father is waiting for you."
"Parrot…" Wifies eyes are so dark now. "I'm not…entirely sure how. And I don't…I don't know if we'll end up in the same place once I do."
Parrot’s body goes numb. He looks just over Wifies shoulder at their half-finished chair by the door. They'd been meaning to finish it, but kept getting distracted by each other. Parrot didn't mind at all, because they had so much time.
Suddenly, they have nothing again.
"I can't separate from you again," Parrot says, very quiet, unsure if Wifies even heard him.
"You deserve to see your mother," Wifies says.
Parrot doesn't answer right away. He keeps staring over Wifies shoulder and can't seem to do anything but that. He's not a good person, but he already knew that, and his decision is already made.
"I'm not willing to risk it." Parrot squeezes Wifies hand, hard, and finally looks at him.
"I'm not doing it again. Do you understand? We're dead, you can't order me to go."
Wifies hugs him suddenly. His arms are tight around Parrot, face buried in his hair. Parrot digs his fingers into Wifies back like hooks. He doesn't want to let go.
"I don't want you to go," Wifies says into his hair. "I don't."
Parrot nods, shaking. "So I won't," he says. "I won't."
--
But it isn't the same after. They spend the day inside, and the house is quiet and feels heavy. Wifies rests his head on Parrot’s lap while they sit paralyzed on the couch. When Parrot touches his back, he finds the muscles there are tense. He runs his hand through Wifies hair instead. The strands are still black, though some browns stand out when Parrot lets his hair fan through his fingers.
Eventually, Wifies sits up some to kiss him, hands wound around Parrot’s waist. There's a knock on the door. They both pull back with a gasp, struck by the idea that someone's come for them. They're going to be separated again.
"Wifies?"
It's Wifies father's voice. Or at least, Wifies memory of his father's voice. Wifies lets him in, just barely, door cracked open.
"Are you all right? We missed you at the school today."
Wifies opens the door fully.
"Sorry," he says. "Parrot and I were talking and I didn't realize how late it'd gotten."
He lies so easy that Parrot relaxes and sits up on the couch more. Wifies father is smiling, eye crinkled behind his glasses.
He has no idea what they know, but why would he? He's Wifies memory, his projection. He isn't real. Parrot can't imagine what it's doing to Wifies, knowing this now. He can see the way Wifies lip trembles when he speaks to him. Wifies father doesn't seem to notice. He keeps talking about how he managed the children fine. He just wanted to check in, is all.
When he finally leaves, Wifies shuts the door with a sigh so heavy Parrot’s surprised it doesn't shake their house.
Parrot pulls a loose thread from the arm of the couch and holds it between his fingers.
"Wifies," he says.
"It's fine," Wifies says. "We just have to adjust again."
"I guess," Parrot says, though what he wants to ask is Will we? He tucks the thread into his pants' pocket.
They do try, though. Parrot walks with Wifies to the school the next morning so he can stop by the market and pick up food like he usually does. Wifies walks quietly until Parrot nudges him with his elbow and tells him he didn't fly into Wifies subconscious just so Wifies could give him the silent treatment. Wifies laughs, even if it's forced, and kisses the top of Parrot’s head.
"You're right," he says. "That’d be inconsiderate of me."
He and Parrot separate at the schoolhouse, and Parrot walks to the market to finish the shopping he started two days ago. There's a man outside sweeping, the first man Parrot saw when Wifies took him into town that first time. Parrot remembers him now. He was a face seen in the invisible mafia. He and Lucia and everyone else are just people who passed through Wifies life with no consequence. No one he felt guilty about. And there are so few of them.
Parrot ducks passed him to shop as quickly as he can. He doesn't want to talk to these people, not that he had a desire to before. In the market, the fruit doesn't seem as bright anymore. Parrot stares at an apple that should be a sugary red and sees that it's streaked yellow. He grabs the apple, and once his fingers close around it, the apple crushes in his hand and becomes ash. Parrot jerks backward. He drops his basket and shakes the ash from his hand. Around him, no one seems to even notice. Parrot leaves the market quickly and walks back to the schoolhouse.
Parrot sees that something is wrong just as he gets there—the house across the way is warped. The house looks like it was trying to implode, suck the wood inside itself. It wasn't like that earlier. Parrot would have known. The wood almost seems to be floating, uneven in the way it lays in some areas. And people walk by as if it isn't strange at all. They don't seem to notice. Parrot turns back as Wifies exits the schoolhouse, seems he too sees the warped home. His steps slow for a moment before he continues walking.
"What happened?" Parrot asks.
"Let's get home," Wifies says, speaking quickly.
Parrot has to nearly jog to keep up with Wifies. And the moment they're inside the house, Wifies shuts the door tight like he's keeping something out. He stares as if expecting something to break through the wood. Outside, Parrot hears a noise he hasn't heard in what feels like a century—a low howling that creaks the foundation of the house. It's wind. Parrot looks out the window and sees the grass bowing to it.
"Wifies," he says. "Tell me what's going on."
Wifies backs away slowly from the door and there is such thick guilt in his eyes.
"I don't think…my mind can hold onto this place. I can't pretend anymore."
Oh, Parrot thinks, then says it. Of course this world would fall apart. Wifies can't believe his own lie now that he knows the truth. Both of them had been foolish to think they could keep it up, and Parrot feels awful for expecting Wifies to keep his mind subdued. Wifies sighs, resigned, and moves a book off the arm of the couch so he can sit there. He reaches for Parrot, then aborts the movement, but Parrot meets him halfway and grabs his shirt sleeve. In return, Wifies holds his wrist.
"I'm not sure how much time we have left," Wifies says. "I'm sorry, Parrot. You shouldn't have been here at all."
"I don't care," Parrot says. "I'm glad I was here. You keep talking like that, I'm gonna start thinking I'm bad in bed or something."
Wifies laughs despite himself, thumb tapping against Parrot’s wrist. The wind has picked up a bit, now. Parrot wonders how strong the foundation of this house is. In the distance, he's sure he hears thunder.
The world shakes.
--
There's a moment, in the blinding whiteness of it all, where Parrot can only see Wifies. Wifies watches him so fondly Parrot feels his heart swell. He can see him too.
"I'll find you," Wifies says. "I promise."
He starts to fade, and Parrot wants to reach out to him but he can't move at all.
"Wifies," he says. "Wifies, I'm not ready."
"It's all right, Parrot . It's all—"
The world goes black.
--
Parrot is still dead. He comes to in the sand, fully clothed, and can hear birds. He can smell something salty in the air. Parrot sits up and wipes sand from his cheek, nose wrinkled. Above him, Parrot sees two birds float on the air. He follows them until they dip down into a dark blue. It takes Parrot a moment to realize he's staring at the ocean. Even the hush of waves cresting doesn't register until the water slips over his toes. Parrot stands as the water recedes. A breeze musses his hair and leaves a salty film on his skin, but not in a way that makes him feel dirty.
He looks around. There's beach for miles in both directions. Behind him, though, are hills, hills of houses, some with smoke billowing up from the chimney. Parrot knows he's made it. He knows it the same way he knows how to breathe, inherently.
He looks over the beach one more time but sees that he's still alone. There's no telling if Wifies is here yet. Would he even have woken up in the same place? Parrot cups his hands by his mouth and yells for him.
"Wifies!"
Only the birds answer him.
Parrot pushes his hair from his face and begins walking toward the houses.
There's one higher up with lace curtains that spill out the window, and he knows somehow that's the house he must go to.
He walks up the dunes and steps over the wooden farm fencing that separates the beach from the dirt road. Parrot follows the road up, listening to the sounds of cicadas as he walks, watching the way the wind plays with the flowers.
He stops about fifty yards away from the
house with the lace curtains and leans against a wall of stones. Parrot waits, though he doesn't know what for.
Eventually, a woman appears by the lace curtains to pull them back into the window, and it's her. It's his mother. Parrot stands upright, heart jumping, but he doesn't run to her. He watches the way the she leans out the window and breathes the salty air, her hair so long and healthy and blonde. A black cat jumps onto the windowsill and she says hello to it.
Her soft voice carries like a song. So much time has passed that Parrot couldn't remember her voice anymore, but now it's like it's always been there, soothing him to sleep. She steps away from the window and the cat lingers, though Parrot could swear it looks in his direction. He swallows and walks to the front door of his mother's house. He knocks.
She opens the door, and at first, neither of them moves. Then she pulls Parrot to her, stroking his hair, his back, her cheek wet against his.
"My Parrot," she says. "My little Parrot."
She holds him, and Parrot is held, and he feels weightless.
"Mom," he says, finding that even after all the time that's past, the word isn't difficult to say, not at all.
--
She holds him like he's still a child on the couch. Parrot doesn't mind. The cat curls around their legs and she tells him that the cat reminded her of him. Parrot scoffs and presses his nose back into his mother's neck so he can remember her smell.
She cooks for him, after, and they eat at the table and she likes to keep all the windows open to smell the ocean. Then she says she's kept a room ready for Parrot, and the way she says it is like she's never doubted he'd come, not even once. Parrot watches her over his fish, and feels something he can't even describe.
"I've heard about you, you know," she says. "You have a lot of friends who've come here over the years."
Parrot can't find the words to even say, so he just nods knowing he's going to see them again. He really is. He looks out the window at the sun squatting over the horizon. He keeps expecting to see Wifies walk through the stone wall and wave to him. But no one comes, not even after night falls and the sky is pinned with stars and glittering.
He sleeps that night, and when he wakes the next morning his mother is in the kitchen with tea and Parrot knows this is real. Maybe he doesn't deserve it, but somehow he's gotten this. After they eat, Parrot walks the hilly road and by sunset Parrot is at the beach again, feet dangling as he sits on the wooden fence.
He's trying to figure out what the point of him being here is, if Wifies isn't even around. If Wifies is in Hell, he should be right there with him. He deserves it just as much. Parrot watches the way the sun turns the water orange. He and Wifies had talked about the beach a few times, but Wifies never really believed he'd see it.
What would it take, for Parrot to send himself to Hell just to drag Wifies out of there?
Parrot shuts his eyes against the sun. He won't leave his mom again, even though Parrot thinks if he told her, she'd probably understand. She used to pretend she'd already eaten and give Parrot her share of food. Parrot caught on when it was too late, but he couldn't be angry with her. She did anything for him. Parrot understands that, now, giving up everything for someone just because you love them. He leans down and picks up a rock near the fence post and tosses it toward the ocean, watches until it disappears into the horizon. Wifies isn't here.
"You stupid idiot," he says.
"Is that all you have to say to me?" he hears, from a voice he knows well, better than any other.
Parrot exhales slowly. He turns. Wifies stands there with his right hand over his heart, then reaches toward him, hands out.
"Parrot—"
"Well, you sure took your sweet time getting here," Parrot says, his chest swelling like a wave.
He only gets one foot on the ground before Wifies is picking him up. Parrot winds his legs around Wifies waist without thinking, without breathing. He rests his head against Wifies shoulder and lets himself be held for the second time in two days.
Somehow, Wifies feels even more solid than before. Parrot can still see the houses up on the hills, and part of him still thinks they don't deserve this, but they have it. Somehow, they have this. Wifies kisses his hair, shaking, and against his scalp Parrot can feel him mouth the words. I love you. And then he whispers it again, and again.
"Wifies," Parrot says, and this time the name hangs between them, solid and real.