Chapter Five
Back in Madagascar, I had been taught to avoid snakes at all costs. If my mother and I came across one stretched out across the dirt road to the market, she would stop and clutch her skirt closer to her knees, eyes wide.
“What is it, Mama?”
“Snake. A snake is in the road.”
Children understand when their parents are truly frightened, and I was no exception. A current of fear ran through my mother and down through my tiny hand as I joined her in staring at the snake that lazily inched its way across the road. It wasn’t much of a sight – a long, skinny green thing with a small head that didn’t so much as glance at us. It flicked the air with a long, forked tongue and continued its journey across the sunny path. We stood and waited until it had gotten out of our way, and I remember several other women on their way to make the day’s purchases had also paused at the sight of the little fellow.
We didn’t see snakes too often in my town. More and more people were buying cars those days, and the trendy way to drive at the time was as if one had a death wish. Cars went flying through intersections, up and down hills while those in the car laughed deliriously. We all found ourselves walking in the dirt on the edges of the road more and more until it became the norm.
In school, we learned that snakes sensed danger through vibrations in the ground. I could only imagine what those wild vibrations told those delicate, thin creatures any time they got near the road. Once in a while, one would gather up his courage and lie in the warm, sunny road anyway. I always admired those snakes. They sneered at the speeding vehicles. Their total lack of armor or speed didn’t deter them at all; they simply went on with their day and if they died, well, they’d lived a full, snakey life.
When I got a bit older, I found I was full of questions about the flora and fauna all around us in our little town. My mother did her best to answer all of my queries, but she finally just pointed to the little, local library and said, “Go ask all of those books the things you want to know. My head is about to explode, girl!”
So, I consulted with the pages that I found within one book after another. I was thrilled! All of them were written in French, the language I automatically associated with high intelligence, and many of them had lovely illustrations of plants and animals on the outside and deep inside them as well. The snake pictures enthralled me more than anything.
In one book, I learned that my country had many snakes all over it, but very few that could do any harm to me. Many were simply water or garden snakes. I studied picture after picture. Any time someone glanced over my shoulder to see what had me so interested, they would suck in a long draw of air and say, “Snakes! So scary!” I didn’t mind it at first, but after several instances of the exact same reaction, same tones, and same timing I grew tired of it.
“They’re not poisonous, you know,” I told an old man who had come up behind my chair. He just shook his head slowly.
“Many things are more dangerous than poison.” He walked away, and I rolled my eyes in annoyance. Why wasn’t anyone as smart as I was?
After several happy afternoons poring over books, I saw it. I remember it must have happened on a holiday of some kind, as the roads were quiet and free of deadly cars. There, right in a patch of sunlight, lay a beautiful snake with brown skin on its back and a soft yellow underneath. It was skinny with big, friendly eyes that looked right at me as I walked up to it.
I stood there next to it as it crawled along, fascinated with its length and slow, muscular undulations. I didn’t move, just observed and breathed. For a moment, the snake raised its head and looked at me, its little, pink tongue appearing in a flash. I’d learned from my studies this meant the snake was smelling me, and I wondered what my scent told the little beast. I hoped it could smell that I was friendly.
Suddenly, my mother materialized in front of me and gave me a head ringing slap that shattered the moment. She pulled me away by my arm until we were under a tree. It wasn’t until we got there that I realized half the town had been standing around watching me, their chins on the ground. No one ever approached a snake or had even seen someone else do it. My mother was yelling at me, but I couldn’t process her words because I was so full of shame. The stares around me seemed to bore right into my skin. I looked down and watched my tears fall into the dust.
“Don’t you know,” my mother yelled, pulling my chin up with a hard grasp, “that snakes will remember you long after you’re dead? Why do you think we stay away from them? Hm? God cursed the snake for a reason; it’s a messenger for the devil himself.”
I remembered that snake as I stepped out of the underground prison and into a small hallway in the presidential palace. No one gave Tony or me a second glance, just hustled by as they stared at their papers and spoke out loud to themselves. I desperately wanted to know why everyone was talking to people I couldn’t see, but I had to act as if I’d been in this strange place many times. I affected a cool, casual approach and walked with Tony without looking at much of anything, a kind of permanent shrug in my stature. Luxurious tapestries and cool, calm air all around, who cares? It’s nothing to me.
We made a sharp turn and opened one of the less ornate doors to reveal the garden outside. There was the collection of terrifying, deep black cars that Bachmann kept on hand at all times just in case he and his entourage needed to all be somewhere at once and in the highest of style. The curvy, sleek cars reminded me of women’s breasts and hips with their full curves and metal that appeared almost soft. Of course, I knew if I touched them, they would not melt under my fingers like flesh, but rather burn me with the heat they had collected from the sun all day.
A young man and woman worked to clean the great machines. The man used a special jug of water to throw all over the car and then a big, soapy thing to rub it with. He worked his hand in slow circles as if he wanted to exfoliate it as gently as possible. He glanced up at us, and I had to remind myself that I was Larry, a young man in need of air and not Larissa, a girl who had always prided herself on her feminine beauty and charms.
“Hey, man. You have any compressed air? This is Larry. He needs it for an experiment.”
I raised my hand in greeting as I had seen so many young men do. “Hi.”
He gave me a little chin raise and then pointed over to a pump. As I walked over, I took stock of the many vehicles the president owned. At least ten. And a few of them appeared as if they hadn’t been driven for quite some time. I wondered if that was simply because the president’s crew simply had new toys to play with or if it was because these neglected cars no longer functioned.
“You like cars,” Tony asked. I nodded. “Yeah, these are beauties. That one is from as far back as 2030. Can you imagine driving something so ancient?” He laughed, and his big belly shook up and down. I shook my head to indicate that no, of course I couldn’t imagine something so outlandish. Meanwhile, all I could think was, ‘People drive these things?’ For some reason, I had always believed that the cars somehow controlled themselves. Perhaps the idea of manipulating such a massive beast was just a bit more than my brain could calculate.
We found the hose, and I wondered how I would ever turn it on; there were no visible controls. Luckily, Tony walked right over to a small switch on the wall and flipped it, making the hose shake to life as a hard current of air poured through it. I stuffed it into my open tank and again reminded myself to act casual. Filling up my only source of air for my escape – nothing to be nervous about.
We both stood and waited, but as we did the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. The woman who had been washing cars had stopped and zeroed in on me. I smiled and nodded at her, but this only made her eyes narrow. She elbowed her male colleague and said something I couldn’t hear, but whatever it was, it encouraged him to watch me as well. My palms became very sweaty, and holding the heavy, black hose was a challenge, but the tank was almost full. I couldn’t stop.
I looked back down at the tank. The needle slowly away from the big ‘E.’ ‘Come on, come on.’ The tank grew heavier and heavier, and the pair of watchers moved closer until finally the woman tapped me on the shoulder.
“Who are you, anyway?”
I swallowed. “What do you mean? I’m a worker here, like you.”
“No, you know what I mean.” She cocked her head and stepped back with a look of disgust on her face. “Why are you dressed up like a boy?”
I almost dropped everything, I almost ran, but at the end, I did something very stupid. I stood still and let everyone stare at me.
“Hey, wait,” Tony jumped in, “I saw this guy naked not too long ago. How could he be a she?”
The couple didn’t answer, they all just turned and looked at me. I felt the fear ripple through my body again and realized that I had slowly been turning back to my female shape without any intention. Once I’d gotten distracted, my body had taken over and slowly begun to restore its curves and soft lines. So slowly that I hadn’t even felt it.
“I…uh…Well, Tony, what you saw was…” For just a moment, Tonyy turned to the other two, and I saw my chance. I whipped the hose right at his face so that it smacked into him and blasted the other two with a huge current of air. My tank clanged to the ground as I let it go, and then I ran so fast my legs began to burn as I retraced my steps back to the prison door.
Several employees looked up as I blew past them, but I was too fast for them. One yelled for me to stop but I couldn’t, not ever. I would run for all eternity. I just had to get Black Feather.
I found the door and reached for it, but of course it was locked. An employee walked up to me quickly. “Hey, stop! You’re not authorized.” I saw the little blue ring on his thumb and grabbed his arm, twisted it around and scanned it into the door.
“What are you doing?”
I didn’t answer, I just bit his arm as hard as I could with the teeth that were slowly elongating from my mouth. His finger broke off and fell onto my tongue. I pushed it into my cheek and bounded through the door and down the steps as his screams of pain faded away behind me.
By the time I made it to the bottom of the stairs, I was sprouting short, spiky hairs all over my body. My ears were softening and rising, and my vision was becoming much sharper. I saw Alan in a little break room, and he leapt up at the sight of me.
“Shifter!” He paused a second to see if I might cower in fear or if someone else might come to his aid, but he was met with only silence. He fumbled for his gun, and I ran straight for him. I didn’t want to kill him, but I had to incapacitate him so that I could get away. I jumped as high as possible and right into his chest so that he hit the wall, arms spread wide. I went for his hand, breaking it with my powerful jaw and then kicking his gun away with a swipe of my paw.
“You stop right there!” His screams echoed around me as “Air! Air! Air!” Black Feather was already standing and waiting for me. He didn’t speak, just watched.
I flung the severed finger at Black Feather with a quick head jerk, and it flew through the air. Nothing happened. No bars. He caught it and put it on his hand, then just strolled out as if jailbreaks were his specialty.
Once he was out, he stopped. “Larissa,” he whispered. “What do we do?”
I closed my eyes and told myself to shift as fast as possible. No more taking an hour to change little by little. Mentally, I let the panic of the situation dial up the speed and visualized myself fully female once again. When I opened them, I looked down and saw my human body.
“We swim.” I grabbed his hand and ran for the pipe that led to the underground lake. The tide was out, so we would have to crawl out into the water.
Black Feather was strong and looked very sure of himself, so I never asked if he could swim. I just led the way and let him follow the moon of my round, naked butt as I lowered my shoulders to try and see how soon we would hit water.
The bottom of the pipe was just wet at first, then a tiny rivulet of water met our hands and knees. Soon, we were pushing against a current of water that rose up to my thighs and almost reached my shoulders. I called back, “We’ll be there soon. Take big gulps. The Nothing is far away.”
“Guh. Guh. What? Guh.”
I didn’t have time to answer. The water crashed in and knocked us back a little, but the pipe wouldn’t let us get too far. We pushed back and found our way to the back of the big hatch I had opened earlier. It looked closed, but once I approached, I could see that it wasn’t locked. I signaled with an arm motion to Black Feather to keep going, and together we pushed it open.
As soon as it was open, I swam hard. Life in the desert had taught me the importance of fast, quick movements, and I employed them at the highest possible level. Unfortunately, behind me, I could tell that Black Feather wasn’t keeping up. As much as I didn’t want to, I paused and looked back. He was struggling against the water instead of moving with it, and his knees and elbows were bending as he flailed, keeping him in one place. He looked up and saw the Earth – not the sky – looking down, and he panicked. Just as his eyes met mine, his face went white and his neck turned into a limp, soft thing. His eyes no longer looked at me; they just glassed over and closed halfway as his body hung like a rag in the water.
I pushed through the water to get to him, my lungs already screaming. I put my arm around his waist and was shocked at how heavy he was. There was no choice. I had to drag his long, heavy body through the water.
Aiming for the upside-down pyramid, I used my free arm to push the water around me and undulated my legs open and then shut, inching my way through the water. ‘Just get to the peak. Get to the little triangle. The waterhole is close by. Don’t give up.’ I stretched my hand out as far as I could and grabbed onto the point of the pyramid and pulled myself forward.
Just ahead of me was the tiniest shaft of light. Perhaps I was hallucinating from the force of the water or the stress of the situation, but I swear I could hear the Children calling me. They sounded panicked and frightened, or maybe they could feel my fear. I kicked, and kicked, and kicked, all the while trying not to look at Black Feather’s slack, pale face. The light grew closer, and the Children yelled a little louder.
“Larissa! Larissa! Go faster! Quickly, now!”
I reached toward the light, but it couldn’t help me. I had to get up to the source on my own. There was nothing but soft earth over my head to claw at. I moved Black Feather around to the front of me and briefly saw his face. He looked like a sad, sick child. ‘Don’t think,’ I told myself, and pushed him up to the light. As soon as his body bobbed to the surface, I was surrounded by darkness. My heart panicked once again, and I had to push him up, but instead he just pushed me down. I tried over and over to get him onto the edge so that I could get out myself, but his limp body wouldn’t cooperate.
‘Children, I need your help,’ I prayed. ‘Please, give me the strength to get out of this water. Let me see you again.’ The stars must have heard me, because a strange fire that I had never felt before suddenly flared up and took over my muscles. I felt the star that had once been on my skin light up in my blood, and sing through me from my scalp to my toes. Once again, I kicked my legs and shot my arms straight forward, and by some miracle, Black Feather’s body tipped up and over, and the light shone down once again.
My hands went up and out of the water, and then I felt dry ground. With my very last bit of strength, I pulled my head out of the water and gasped in the hot, fiery air, thanking the invisible stars for every drop of it. I couldn’t pull myself all the way out; I was far too tired. Instead, I just let myself go limp and lie against the side of the waterhole. Breath after breath rushed into my lungs, and I heard myself take big, loud gulps of it. I didn’t care. All I cared about was air, and more air. I was in love with breathing.
Next to me, Black Feather’s body laid still. I had failed. My mission to save the innocent shifter had turned on me, and now I would have to bury him. I would have cried, but I was too weak. I just closed my eyes and asked him to forgive me. My efforts had all been spurred by good intentions, but I had never even thought to bring a second source of air, to find an alternative escape. I had been thoughtless and rudderless, broken and useless. I let the sun beat down on me, believing I deserved every centimeter of insane heat hitting my shoulders and back.
I felt a little better, so I tried to get out again. I was able to push my arms straight, but my legs were exhausted. My knees couldn’t quite get up high enough to get ahold of the surface, so I just let myself fall forward onto Black Feather’s chest. Our bodies met with a wet slap as I landed on him. Scared to touch a dead body, I quickly pushed myself up again, only to find that my arms were exhausted yet again, and I fell down a second time right on top of him.
By some miracle, he coughed.
I scrambled back so that he could turn and vomit out the water in his stomach. After he did, he gasped in the air around him, and his body began to turn back to its original shade of tanned flesh. He had lost some weight in prison, but no matter. He still appeared fairly strong. I sat on the hot dirt and watched as he slowly regained his wits, felt the ground beneath him, and then, at the last possible moment, saw me.
“What did you do?” he croaked.
“I got you out of that horrible cage.”
“I know that part. What happened while we were running away?”
I crawled closer and kneeled by his shoulders. “You died in the water. But the Children brought you back to me.”
He turned and looked at me with a bewildered expression. “What?”
“Don’t worry,” I assured him, touching his hair. “You’ll learn everything the desert has to teach you. I did, and we’ll be safe here. At least for a while.” I looked around and saw where the wind had blown my clothes. I stood shakily and walked over to them, stepping into my shorts and sliding my worn out top over me. Black Feather watched silently.
“Why did you do this? What do you want?”
I turned to face him. “Why? You’re innocent. Bachmann can’t just go around throwing random shifters in jail. I won’t allow it.”
He propped himself up on his elbows. “I think there’s another reason,” he informed me.
“What’s that?”
With an insufferable smirk, he said, “You did it because you’re in love with me.