Matt Rooney sat on the sofa in the living room. He stared across the room at his favorite photo on the wall. In it, he and his parents were each holding a pair of skis. All three of them were smiling at the camera. A snowy mountain sat in the background. They had been so happy on that trip.

Tonight was different. No one was happy. And Matt was afraid. He kept looking away from his parents as they spoke to him from across the coffee table.

“Before your real parents get here, there’s something you should know,” said his father.

“You’re going to scare him,” Mrs. Rooney whispered to her husband.

“I heard that!” said Matt. “What do you mean, ‘scare’ me?”

Mr. Rooney cleared his throat and started over. “As I said, uh, before your real parents get here —”

“But you’re my real parents!” shouted Matt. “I don’t care that I’m adopted!”

Matt’s mom sighed, her eyes watery and tired. She leaned on her husband.

“Your natural parents, I mean,” his dad said.

“I don’t want to go with them,” cried Matt.

Matt’s mom sat down next to him on the sofa. “You don’t have to do anything, Mattie,” she replied. “But they wrote and asked to see you, so —”

“Well, I don’t want to see them,” said Matt. “And you still didn’t tell me what was going to scare me.”

His dad looked quickly at his mother. “Well, sometimes families have problems,” he said.

“Your natural mother and father had to go away for a time,” added his mom. “They had no choice. And they needed someone to take care of their special baby.”

“Special?” Matt asked. “Is something wrong with me?”

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you,” his dad said. “You know that.” He sat down on the other side of Matt, putting his hand on his son’s shoulder.

“You mean my back, don’t you?” asked Matt. Matt had been born with his back covered in thick, bumpy skin. It didn’t look pretty in the mirror, but Matt was used to it by now. It never stopped him from joining activities. He wore a T-shirt whenever he went swimming, but that was the only thing he did differently from his friends.

“No, I don’t mean your back,” said his father.

A thud shook the house, and Matt’s dad stood up.

“What was that?” Matt said. He turned and looked out the living room window.

It was evening. Their house sat at the bend of a sharp curve. The street trailed off into darkness on either side. Two or three streetlights stretched overhead like dinosaur necks.

Thud! The windows rattled.

“Oh, honey,” said Matt’s mother as she jumped from the sofa and grabbed her husband’s hands.

“It’s them,” said his father.

Thud!

“Them? Them who?” asked Matt. His father didn’t answer. Instead, he went to the front door and opened it.

“Mom, who is Dad talking about?” Matt asked. His mother joined her husband at the door. They both stood there, holding hands, silently staring outside.

“Now you’re scaring me,” said Matt.

The thuds grew louder. Matt leaned over the back of the sofa and peered out the window.

A shadow stood in the middle of the street. It was blocks away, but even at that distance Matt could tell the creature was huge. The head of the thing almost touched the streetlights. A second slightly smaller shadow appeared behind it.

The two shadows moved forward on legs as thick as tree trunks.

“What… is that?” Matt asked weakly.

“Them,” said his mother.

“Them who?” Matt cried again. He saw the two shadows reach out and hold hands. His head hurt. “You don’t mean those — things — are… are…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

The shadows marched toward the house. They smashed through the bushes at the end of the driveway. They knocked branches off the tree in the front yard. Cracks appeared in the living room window with each new thud.

As the creatures came closer, an awful smell became stronger and stronger. What is that terrible smell? Matt wondered. It made him think of vomit on a pile of wet leaves.

A groan rumbled through the house like a thunderstorm.

His mom said in a tiny voice, “Mattie, honey, someone’s asking to meet you.”

Matt felt sick, but he managed to make it to the doorway without throwing up. The creatures were covered in long, droopy, vine-like stuff. Is that their fur? he wondered. They were walking lumps of grass. Matt saw bugs crawling over them.

The taller creature let out an ear-ringing roar. “MATT!!!”

Matt gulped. He grabbed for his mom’s hand. Then he gulped again. Then he said, “Are… are you my… parents?”

The huge creatures began to shiver. The odor got worse. A swarm of bugs flew off the vines and buzzed into the house.

“I think they’re laughing,” said Matt’s dad.

“What’s so funny?” asked Matt.

The bigger one spoke. “No,” boomed the deep voice. “Not your parents.”

Matt sighed. My parents aren’t monsters after all, he thought.

The second giant said, “We are servants. Work for your parents. Here they are.”

A cry pierced the night air. Two strange figures soared over the treetops. They sailed above the streetlights and dove toward the ground. Graceful as eagles, they landed on the front lawn and walked to the front door on slender legs.

“Mattie!” said the female. “My baby!” The beautiful woman looked human except for the pale, bat-like wings on her back. She knelt and gave Matt a hug.

The man stood up straight and proud and shook hands with Matt’s dad. “Thank you for taking care of him,” he said. “We are sorry we haven’t been here. But now we are allowed to visit your world for short periods of time.”

“I hope you don’t mind if we take Mattie for the weekend?” said the female.

Matt’s mom smiled. “Of course not. Um, would you like some coffee?”

Matt couldn’t speak. What was happening? His T-shirt felt tight on his body. His back stung and burned. Then he heard a ripping sound. He stumbled, gripping the side of the door for balance. All of a sudden he felt light as air.

The strange man smiled down at Matt. “Yes, my son,” he said. “You have wings.”

The two grassy creatures were ordered to gather up Matt’s bedroom furniture and all his clothes and video games and soccer ball and books — because he wasn’t sure what he’d need over the next few days. Far above them soared the reunited family.

Matt was still afraid, but his fear had changed. At the beginning of the evening, he had been afraid of who, or what, his parents might be.

Now, he was afraid of falling. He had never used wings before. He had never known he had them, folded under his bumpy back. As the cool air rushed past his face, though, he found his balance. He stretched out his arms, leaning into the wind. He was sure he would get the hang of it. It reminded him of skiing.