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I perched on the kitchen table as Allen munched down something that looked like gruel. I guess some of his fourteenth-century tastes still remained. For several minutes I waited silently before I finally insisted, Allen, I'm asking you to change my brother back! I don't care how blissed out he is like that! It's a horrible way to treat him after what he's done for you!
He studied me with interest. “Putting him into a constant state of elation is horrible?”
Elation? He's stuck! I cried. He can't move!
He slurped up another spoonful. “He doesn't want to move! He's a tree!”
I wished I had a fist to punch him with. He was so frustrating! Allen, don’t you see how awful that is?
“You don't know that until you try it!”
I don't want to be a plant! Damn you, Allen!
Allen lunged for me, grabbing me up and nearly crushing my delicate bones in his grasp. “You'll be what I want to you be!” And then, the weirdest sensation began to seize me. My body was tightening... hardening...I suddenly couldn’t move.
Help me! Allen, stop...
“No.”
Please...
A bizarre shudder ran through me, and then I was completely still, cold...and solid.
He placed me on the counter and examined me as if I were a work of art. “Beautiful. You make a lovely bird statue!”
Statue? Allen, please! I can't move...
“And soon you'll enjoy it. You'll see! And I get a nice sculpture as well! Solid jade is pretty expensive in your time as well as mine!”
I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that I was now precious stone. Yet as disconcerting as it was, there was some comfort in this form. I wasn't sure how – perhaps, as Daniel had said, because I didn't have to worry about anything at all – even breathing?
Allen snatched me off the counter again, running his fingers over me proudly. “See what I can do to you? I can keep you like that, petrified, yet aware of everything. And your mind is completely intact. I can do this to people who make me unhappy.”
Like who?
“Well, I know your parents are out to find me. Especially now that you two are missing.”
Don't do anything to them, Allen. Please. They only mean well. We all do.
He softened, placing me back on the counter and allowing me to become flesh and blood...well, feathers and blood.
“No one's taking me back,” he mumbled, and walked out of the room.
***
I LOUNGED ON THE FRONT windowsill, staring longingly outside. Through the trees, I could just make out Owen's house and his old, beat-up car beside it on the driveway. I wondered where he had gone without his car.
Whatever happened to that sports car you had, Allen? I asked, only half-interested. I spoke to him less and less. Whether this was due to my resentment or because of the fact that I was becoming more birdlike, I didn't know. And I didn't care.
Allen was alternating between typing and speaking into the computer. He still explored our world, sometimes for hours on end. I had no idea how he was getting internet access or electricity, but then again, I'm sure he managed it all fine with his transformation capabilities. Honestly, it really wasn't fair that he should be so talented, as far as I was concerned. It wasn't like he was doing much good with his abilities. He was definitely ruining lives, including my own.
“Ah, I'll never learn even half of what's on these devices. So much information!”
Half of it's garbage.
“And that's the fun! To sort out what's not!”
He stood up and held out his arm, and I flew to it as if trained. “Come with me. I'll show you the car.”
He brought me outside, and we approached Owen's decaying wreck. “There she is!”
That's Owen's piece of junk. It amazed me that it even worked.
He placed his hand on the rusty hood, and the car started to glow. The light hurt my raptor-eyes, and I turned away. When I looked back, there sat Allen's red convertible.
“Voilà!”
Owen's going to kill you, I grumbled indifferently.
“Oh, come on. He won't mind. I fixed it up a bit to impress you and the kids at school.” He let the car go back to its former sad shape. I swear, even the car seemed to mope gloomily from seeing itself revert to its previous bad condition.
Well, I flapped my wings then placed them back at my sides. You're doing a good job of impressing me now.
Running his finger down my feathers, he responded, “You broke your promise. You said you wouldn't take me back, and now you want to. I can't have that.”
I had nothing else to reply. It had all been said.
We went back inside, my hopes plummeting even further. The sight of a cereal box on the kitchen counter reminded my stomach that it was empty. It let out a growl that I’m sure Allen couldn’t help but hear.
But he gave no indication that he had. “Go back on your perch and take a nap or something. I'm busy,” he said.
Can you at least feed me?
He glanced around, spying a plate left over from breakfast. It contained several stale crumbs from a corn muffin. “Here,” he said, placing it in front of me.
I pecked the plate clean.
***
ALLEN PROVIDED ME WITH a meal of cake crumbs that night. I was only vaguely aware of the sweetness, so it wasn't much of a treat, but the quantity satisfied me. To a human, it was merely a handful. To me, it was a mountain, and it would definitely sate my hunger for the time being.
He placed a small bowl of water down for me, and smiled as I sipped it and threw my head back to swallow.
“Yes, you got the hang of drinking as a bird. Took me a while.”
I looked at him reproachfully. Well, I don’t really have a choice, do I?
“No you don’t. You do not.” He went off to his computer, shaking his head in amusement. Yes, I served as Allen’s live-in entertainment now.
After my feast, I sat quietly, combing my feathers into place with my beak. They weren't as shiny as when I'd first been transformed, and it suddenly dawned on me: I hadn't showered since before I’d become a bird. That kind of disgusted me, and I guess Allen picked up on my dismay. He glanced up from his computer, chuckling.
“You want to take a little bird bath, huh?” He rose and made his way over to the counter. “Yes, I guess you're overdue for a shower.” He cleared away several plates that had been sitting in the sink for days, and then plugged up the drain. “You only need a little bit to bathe in. We don't want you drowning in my kitchen sink.”
His laughing infuriated me, but I held my tongue. The welcome sound of water met my ears, and Allen swept his hand through the basin. “That's about good,” he announced. “Your bath awaits, Madame!” He made an exaggerated bow in my direction.
Thank you, I responded tightly, and flew right into the sink. The temperature was bearable, and my bird instincts kicked in on contact. I fluttered and splashed the water over myself, just like the sparrows did in my mother's birdbath. Allen observed nearby, a giant grin on his face.
This time, his scrutiny made me feel hugely self-conscious. Stop watching me, Allen! I demanded, shaking out my wings and splattering him in the face. I did this on purpose, and as pointless as it was, it made me feel better.
He merely wiped the water away. “Oh, but Corinne, you're quite adorable!”
I scowled, trying to splash him again, but he moved out of my reach.
“Oh, what, are you embarrassed? You have feathers! It's not like you're naked! Plus, you're doing much better than I do when I'm a bird. My feathers get pretty dirty before I remember to clean myself!” He retreated back to the computer and settled down yet again.
With a few final shakes, I perched on the sink edge. I was refreshed, but incensed at what I deemed an invasion of my privacy. Even though I was covered in feathers, Allen had witnessed me bathing. Did he even think of me as a person anymore?
All the way from the kitchen counter, I analyzed the perfection of his features. His silhouette curved in perfect proportion, as if it had been carved by a master sculptor. I remembered that the first time I'd met Allen, I'd imagined he seemed too fantastic to be real, but I never thought that that could literally be true. Now, armed with greater knowledge about his capabilities, I puzzled once more over whether his appearance was genuine.
“No,” he said, without bothering to turn to me, “I don't really look this way. Well, I'm close, but not exactly. I made myself into what you found most attractive in a man.”
Thanks a lot, Allen. I wish you'd get out of my mind.
“Sorry,” he said airily. “Here's the real me, if you're interested.”
His whole form grew brilliant, and a different man twisted back.
He was slightly older and shorter. His wavy hair was near-black like my father's, but his skin was more olive-toned, and the nose more aquiline. What completely shocked me were the eyes.
They were exactly the same color as my father's.
I couldn't help but exclaim, Your eyes!
He smiled, leaning back in the chair and crossing his legs. “Yup, after all these centuries, if we are related, maybe you don't see much family resemblance, but these famous greenies... Aaron the Changer's got them!”
This made no sense! Dad's family had green eyes. That's where they'd gotten the last name from. It had originally been Grinoygen, which meant “Green eyes” in Yiddish.
Allen would be from Mom’s father’s side – the Fox family.
“Corinne, you know that way back we're all related. Jonas even said it's likely that anyone with these abilities probably stems from a common, very powerful ancestor who lived centuries ago.”
Not you, I answered nastily.
“No,” he chuckled. “Since I have a family history of astoundingly powerful people over the generations, I assume that ancestor is many centuries before me.”
So are you my great-great...whatever grandfather?
“Not necessarily. No proof there yet. I told you. I come from a family of eight children. You could stem from a sibling of mine, or even a cousin. But we'd still share a common ancestor.”
His face dared me to ask more questions, and that was fine, because something else was eating at me. He could only read minds when the person was transformed.
Exactly how did you find out what I liked in a man? I asked. Even I wasn't sure what I liked in a man. I never thought about it much.
“This isn't the first time you had wings.”
What? I was afraid to hear what was coming next.
“I've met you before.”
No, I would have remembered you... Unless he could make people forget like Mom could.
“No, I can't do that. But I visited you as a moth before we ever met, and for a moment or two, I made you one also.”
How dare you? I yelled, furious. He'd altered with my body without my permission! And yet I didn't recall anything about the experience whatsoever. But you couldn't have! I don't remember it!
He laughed heartily. “You weren’t awake. I'm pretty good at a nice, gentle transformation. I picked at your mind, learned all about you, and you slept through it all. Your thoughts were an open book when you were sleeping. You were an attractive insect, too.” He winked.
I was sickened. I felt so violated that I flew at him, talons aiming for his skin.
“I wish you'd stop doing that,” he waved two fingers at me. My body flashed and became limp and powerless. I tumbled to the ground in a heap, unable to move.
Taking time to click off the computer, he rose and gathered me up. My mind was fighting, but my body would not budge.
What did you do to me now? I demanded, enraged.
“You're made of cotton. And if you go at me again, I'll leave you that way.”
Suddenly I could move again. I fluffed myself up in a huff.
He reverted back to the blue-eyed Allen I knew, and tossed out, “Go preen yourself. You just had a bath, and already your feathers are messed up.”