A Trip to the Alps

“Aile?” Maman asked her one day in late October when she arrived home from school. “What do you think about going on a little trip?”

Aile smiled widely and had trouble denying her hopes for fear of the disappointment that might come if she were wrong. “Skiing?”

“Yes, skiing!” her mother replied enthusiastically. Aile did a little jump-screech in place and hugged Maman enthusiastically.

“And where will we go?” Aile asked excitedly. Maman paused for several long seconds, trying not to smile, and trying to play up the suspense.

“We’ll be renting a little cottage at a village,” she said, pausing again. “In Les Trois Vallées!”

Aile made a little moue of surprise and said, “Really? Wow! I’ve always wanted to see it.”

“And now you’ll get to,” Maman replied.

Les Trois Vallées, The Three Valleys, was not the cheapest place to go on a skiing vacation. It was one of the largest and one of the most popular resorts in the French Alps. But deals were to be had if one knew where to look and one knew the right people, and Jean Molyneaux had both of these things working in his favor.

On the morning of the trip, Aile’s excitement had worked into a fevered pitch. Not only was it interesting to go somewhere new, but it was something to take her mind away from her personal troubles. When one can put all of one’s energy into taking in and appreciating a new place, it becomes hard to think about all the problems that went with the old one.

Since they were renting their ski gear at their destination and had nothing cumbersome to drag around town, the Molyneaux family took a train to the zeppelin port rather than a taxi. Several trains, really, with the transfers required underground; but it was a way to recover some of the costs of the trip.

As always, Aile watched the people around her, moving in ones or twos here, sometimes a small crowd there. With a holiday in full swing, the trains toward the zeppelin port were doing a brisk business. And as always, there were Na’aulele (as they called themselves in the plural) to be seen taking trains as well. They occasionally had to squeeze their wings awkwardly through the doors, but the trains were tall enough inside to accommodate them. Aile stared at them until she felt that their attention must turn to her at any moment, and then she’d quickly look away.

Humanity had not stood still while les volants were living in their world, either. Shops had started selling all sorts of things specifically for the bird-people. Shirts and coats whose backs came in three pieces, to be fastened at the bottom. Wash-out, feather-safe markers that could be used to draw little designs on their wings. (Some drew quite elaborate art with them.) Wing-rings (piercings required), special aerodynamic and yet stylish hats specialized for flying, even parachutes to help the younger Na’aulele learn to fly with more confidence.

While her parents were busy buying some drinks, Aile looked at a children’s book about Ka’aulele wings, and learned another tidbit to add to her growing knowledge: their children were born looking much like human children. Around eight or nine years old, they sported lumps near their shoulder blades; these would eventually burst forth painfully into small wings, much like human baby teeth. The wings would grow rapidly after that, with full skeletal reinforcement happening into normal human puberty years. At its peak, a natural Ka’aulele wing span would be nearly four times their body height. She surreptitiously felt her own back, checking for lumps and wondering what it would be like; then she looked around guiltily to see if anyone had seen her doing it while reading, and put the book down quickly.

The Molyneaux family resumed their trek to the zeppelin port itself, massive football-shaped balloons flying overhead with a cacophony of quiet buzzing noises. Much earlier, steam engines had finally given way to natural gas, and hydrogen had given way to helium. But the basic design had never been replaced. Most had heard of the failures of the Wright brothers in America; after a few attempts to build a craft that would fly like a bird, the disastrous accidents added up too quickly. The idea was abandoned as folly. However, these days, a number of inventors studied Na’aulele rather speculatively once again.

Aile and her family ascended an escalator to one of the platforms and joined the queue heading into the cabin of one zeppelin.

“Tickets, Monsieur?” the conductor asked Jean. He handed the conductor their tickets and nodded. The conductor punched a few holes perfunctorily and handed them back, motioning them onward.

When everyone was on board, the zeppelin rose steadily and headed southeast.

Aile’s nose was glued to the window for most of the trip. She felt light and content, wishing only that she were out there on her own wings. The view down was quite like her dreams, which was thrilling until she remembered how those dreams ended. Still, it was not a sight to be missed.

“Do you like to fly, miss?” a deep voice asked behind her.

“I haven’t really had much chance to, but yes, very much,” she said, still staring out the window. Finally she turned around and jumped a little. A middle-aged Ka’aulele man stood there.

“Don’t expect to see one of us here, hmm? Well, it is quite enjoyable to fly, but it does get tiring on the muscles after a while!” He laughed heartily, and Aile had to laugh a little bit too. “I have a granddaughter your age,” he said. “I’ve been told that I’m older than I look.”

Aile had not entirely forgotten her earlier jealousy of les volants, but she was also trying to let that water flow under the bridge, with the possibility that she might join them.

“Has she...” Aile started shyly. “I’ve heard that Ka’aulele children grow their wings later,” she went on, feeling a bit bold. “I was wondering if your granddaughter had grown her wings.” For a mortified moment, she wondered if she’d committed some social gaffe by asking, but the bird-man just smiled and nodded.

“Yes, hers were a little bit late. Only six months ago, actually. It’s a joyous occasion with us. We celebrate, have parties all night, play music and dance.” He looked out the window and sighed. “It does come late sometimes, especially since we came here. I don’t know what the difference is, perhaps the climate, perhaps the food. But it does happen.”

Aile felt wistful about the parties. Imagining her parents dancing and singing all night... she only just managed not to laugh. But as for the other, she was finding it difficult to contain her excitement. Perhaps... perhaps...

“I’ll leave you to your viewing, miss,” he said quietly. “I hope you have a nice trip.”

“I hope you do too,” Aile replied politely, turning back to the window.

The zeppelin finally arrived. A short car ride to their cottage later, Aile found herself unpacking her clothes and other sundries into a dresser in a tiny room. She asked her parents if she could go explore the town a little bit.

“Yes. Just be careful and be back for dinner,” Maman said.

Aile didn’t wait another moment.

She had applied crampons to the bottoms of her stout shoes to help avoid slipping and sliding on the snow and ice, and headed toward the square of the tiny town. Everything was white, with snow and ice all around. Her breath fogged the air in front of her face. A stone sculpture that would have been a fountain in warmer weather was overflowing with snow. Skiers slid by on their skis, on the way to one of the lifts in the area. Couples wandered around, talking quietly and occasionally blushing. It was a scene from a fairy tale, and everything she could’ve hoped for.

Aile walked past a row of shops arranged in a circle around the fountain-slash-snow sculpture, looking in the windows at everything they had to offer. A lot of skiing supplies, of course, and food. Souvenirs for the area, to take back to the family and friends who didn’t get to go. Clothes, for humans and les volants. She had not really thought of them skiing until now, and the image that came to her mind, one of them zooming down a slope, their wings getting caught up in the wind and causing balance issues, was one of the first ungraceful thoughts she’d had about them. She covered her mouth to chuckle merrily but quietly. Perhaps they were here for the cross-country skiing. She had never thought about what her own wings would do for her ability to ski; she enjoyed it, but now figured it a fair trade to let go of that mild feeling of flying for real flight. A poster in the window of an artsy shop boldly declaring, “BE YOURSELF!” made her roll her eyes, thinking of her own situation. Somehow she didn’t think they’d agree in her case.

A few shops farther, she found herself facing a Ka’aulele perhaps a year or two older than her in ski gear. He looked at her somewhat nervously.

“I don’t bite,” she said with a smile at him. He seemed to relax at her words. “I’m Aile,” she continued, spelling it for him and holding out her gloved hand. He took it with his for a moment, and then let go.

“What a lovely name you have. I’m Kuléo,” he replied in surprisingly good French. Then, after looking both ways, “You can call me Pierre if you like. It’s my French name. Many of...” He paused and coughed. “Many of us have them to make it easier to interact with everyone else.” Pierre’s face was quite red for some reason.

“Thank you for your confidence, Kuléo,” she said to him. “I happen to like Ka’aulele names,” she carefully pronounced, and smiled at him. He gave her a huge grin in return, as if a weight had left his chest. Aile turned and continued her circuit of the shops with him.

“So what brings you to this tiny village?” she asked him. “Are you here for cross-country skiing?”

“Hah, no. I’m here for the normal downhill kind,” he replied. She gave his wings a look, and he shrugged a little, producing a small whoosh and a bit of a wince on his face. “Sorry. Mine came a bit late and sometimes I still forget.”

Aile stared at them, unable to repress a feeling of awe and longing. They were a pale gold in the winter sunlight, a handsome match for his blond hair.

“Can I... may I...” she had trouble continuing. She raised her hand as if to touch them. Kuléo’s face really turned red at that point and he spluttered a little bit. It occurred to Aile then that she must have said something seriously wrong, and then her face was turning red. “Oh, no, never mind, I’m sorry... I didn’t know...” But Kuléo shook his head finally.

“No, it’s fine. Among Na’aulele it is considered a intimate sort of thing to do. Perhaps not something that should happen out here where someone else will see,” he finished, grinning a little bit. Aile turned and continued walking, staring at the ground to try to cover her embarrassment.

“So how does it work? To ski downhill with your wings... It must be difficult with all that wind,” she said to him.

“Actually, it’s rather lovely,” he replied, surprising her. “When you pull them in very close like this...” He pulled his wings in, like someone pulling their arms in to their chest. “Notice how the tips are actually a little bit down, in the right skiing position. It makes quite a nice aerodynamic setup. But that’s not the best part. When you’re going very fast...”

Aile jumped, startled, because Kuléo had whipped his wings out to full span, after making sure no one was nearby. Then she laughed.

“It’s the most fun you’ll ever have,” he finished, grinning.

Aile’s reaction was not what he was expecting. She had been smiling with him up to his last statement, and then, inexplicably to him, she turned away and tears came to her eyes. Kuléo raised his goggles, looking at her with concern in his green eyes.

“What’s wrong, Aile? What did I say?”

She simply shook her head, sniffled, and wiped her face with her glove, trying to regain control of herself. Aile saw then that one of his large golden feathers had fallen to the ground. Not caring about faux pas, she reached down and picked it up, twirling it in her fingers and watching the light reflect off of it. “Can I have this?” she said without looking up at him.

“Sure... yes... definitely. Oh, I’m sorry, whatever it was I said,” he said lamely.

“No, it’s my issue. Something soon to be in my past,” she said cryptically. “Thank you for talking with me and teaching me. Maybe we’ll see each other around?” she finished, somewhat more under control, and walking away before he could pry further.

Aile returned to the cottage and put her golden feather away where she thought it might be out of sight. She didn’t want her parents asking her about it, but she also didn’t want to put it in a bag somewhere, where it might get broken or bent. In her mind, it still felt warm to the touch. Only a little while ago, it had been part of him. It felt like a talisman to her.

“Did you have fun?” Papa asked at dinner. Aile nodded.

“I walked around the town, explored the shops, and found a new friend,” she said. “His name is...” She stumbled for a moment, trying to think of which name might go over better with her parents. “...Pierre. He’s here to ski, too.” Maman chuckled and smiled at her daughter, who, up to now, had not really taken much of an interest in boys. Or girls, for that matter.

“Perhaps you’ll see him at the slopes,” was all she said, though. “And you found a huge, beautiful feather, hmm? Or did you buy that at a shop?”

Aile winced a little and replied, “No, I found it. It just seems so pretty, and such a shame to leave it out in the snow to get trampled.”

“That it does,” Maman replied.

The next day, Aile went to ski on one of the slopes. She got into her equipment and skied over to the lift. The line was not long, and soon she was heading up the mountain. Once again she was reminded of that wonderful feeling of hanging in the air above the ground, far vistas there for the seeing. And once again reminded that she had no wings. No matter; it would not last forever. She would have them. It was just a matter of time.

Aile’s breath caught as she saw someone speed down the same slope she was heading toward. The skier looked at first like they were wearing a large gold shield on their back. But then she quickly realized what it was: wings. And she suddenly understood that she was seeing Kuléo, speeding down the slopes. Just when he was nearly out of sight, whoosh! Out spread his wings, and he took off like a rocket, flying above the slope, and winging his way back toward the top.

“Showoff,” the woman sitting next to her muttered, but she was smiling. Aile had to smile too. She had been thinking nearly the same thing.

When Aile’s lift seat was nearing the top, Kuléo was also coming in to land. He saw her and turned to head for the top of the lift.

“That was amazing,” she said to him. “It’s just like you said. Down you go,” she mimed with her hand, “and then whoosh! Off into the air.”

“It’s even more fun to do,” he replied with a mischievous grin.

Aile looked away again, as if a cloud had come between the sun and her face.

“I wish I could do it,” she said. “But I have no wings.” The pain in her voice was clear, and this time, Kuléo’s eyes widened in comprehension.

I can’t believe it, he thought. I could help her. But I can’t stand to see another person go through that. There has to be a better way.

“How about this?” he said with a smile that belied the seriousness of his thoughts. “I hold on to you, and we both go.”

Aile flipped back and forth between terror and elation; terror at being in the air at someone else’s mercy, and elation at the idea of flying with no zeppelin. Eventually elation won. “Let’s do it!” she said with a chuckle.

Yes, Kuléo thought. I was right. He wondered if it was the right thing to do, to give her a taste like this. But he’d already committed himself; backing out now would make things much worse.

“All right then, let’s try this. I’ve never tried it before, I have to warn you,” he said. “But you’ll need to know some basics of how to fly in order to make it work. First, you’ll want to stretch your body a bit, like so,” he continued, straightening his back. He was continuing on to straighten out his legs and do something nearly like standing on tip-toes, but he looked over and saw that she had already done it. Before he had had a chance to show her anything. Her arms were back too, more aerodynamic. He was surprised and yet not surprised. Aile had not yet noticed that she’d jumped ahead of his lesson, so he copied her before she noticed. “Yes, that’s it!”

The two of them walked over to the top of the slope. Aile kept her ski gear rather than trying to ride his skis down too, figuring that if something went wrong, she’d stand a better chance of surviving if she could fall into a glide down the mountain.

“So here’s how this works,” Kuléo said. “You’ll start down, and then I’ll start down right behind you. Try not to get ahead of me. It’s a good thing that you’ve had some practice skiing! When it’s time, I’ll come behind you, grab you ’round the waist, and up we’ll go. When that happens, tuck your arms and your poles in along your body, and do the tip-toe with your feet to get your skis pointed out like tail feathers. That’s the theory anyway. Are you ready?”

“No,” Aile said after a very deep, shuddering breath. Her face held a dubious look, and she could see many ways that things might go wrong. “But yes, oh yes. Let’s do it!”

Aile prepared herself, then launched down the slope. Kuléo was only a heartbeat behind her.

The two headed down the slope at what would normally be considered a foolhardy distance from each other. When they were on a very flat stretch, Kuléo called out, “I’m ready, here we go!”

He zipped forward and grabbed Aile around the waist. His wings whooshed out in a glorious blaze of gold.

Her feet left the ground.

She was screaming, she realized. Screams of joy, not terror. She finally came back to herself and folded her limbs in like Kuléo had suggested. For several glorious moments, they were floating above the mountain. Free.

Then things started going wrong.

It was clear that Kuléo’s wings, or perhaps his wing muscles, were not strong enough to carry two of them plus all of their gear. There was simply not enough lift. Rather than flying up and toward the top again, they started inexorably down. The descent was quick enough that neither of them thought to have Aile put her skis down, to try to come out of it as a long jump. All that was going through Aile’s mind, in spite of her horrible dreams earlier, was “oh no oh no oh no!” Then they hit the snow, and started rolling down the hill along their sides. With a sudden ooph! they both came to a stop in a snow bank.

“Are you all right?” they both said at the same time. Then they just broke down laughing. Somehow no limbs had been broken, and Kuléo had not lost more than a feather or two. It was hard to believe after what happened, but they’d been lucky.

“Ahhh, it was worth a try,” Aile said. “And it was wonderful while it lasted.”

Kuléo noticed with chagrin that, in spite of their harrowing experience, she seemed to have even more stars in her eyes. Yet another part of him was quite happy, though.

Several days passed; some Aile spent with her parents, others she spent with Kuléo. They were not bold enough to try the experiment again, but he forwent his leap into the air and skied down with her to the bottom. Sometimes, with Aile’s encouragement, he would still do his leap, and she would simply watch in admiration.

On Aile’s last evening at the cottage, her parents had arranged for them to attend a dinner and dance. They said that they would like to meet this Pierre with which Aile had been spending so much time, so he was invited as well. Aile explained her parents’ obsession with dinner parties, and he happily agreed to come.

For this occasion, Aile’s parents had actually arranged to rent formalwear. Papa was dressed in a dapper black and white tuxedo with a red boutonnière, and Maman had a beautiful deep blue gown with silver jewelry. Aile had chosen a sleeveless dress of Grecian heritage, reminiscent of a toga; it was white with gold, and stunning with her deep black hair.

The deliberate lack of extra ornamentation in her outfit merely highlighted her own beauty. As they strolled into the ballroom, more than a few boys turned to watch as she walked by. However, she had no eyes for any human boys at the dinner tonight. The only boy she had eyes for was walking toward them from the other side of the room.

In contrast to her colors, Kuléo was in nearly all black–also a tuxedo. It was just as stunning of a contrast, however, when paired with his golden wings, blond hair, and green eyes. More than a few girls turned to watch as he walked by. However, he had no eyes for any human girls at the dinner tonight. The only girl he had eyes for was walking toward him from the other side of the room.

Aile’s parents had a moment of confusion and then shock when they realized that their daughter was steering them to le volant charmant walking in their direction.

“Papa, Maman, I’d like you to meet Pierre,” she said. They had decided to stick to his French name since she’d started out with that. It would be enough trouble already without having to explain that she’d fibbed slightly.

“Monsieur, Madame,” he said over a bow. “It’s a pleasure. I’ve set aside some seats for us, if you’ll follow me, please?”

As the group walked through the room to the table where Kuléo had set aside seats, whispers could be heard off to the side, not discreet enough, or perhaps purposefully indiscreet.

“Rather interesting...”

“...bit scandalous, don’t you think?”

“Aren’t they cute together...”

“...Na’aulele?...what happened to her wings?”

At that last, Aile felt like there must be lava boiling up inside her, it made her feel so warm and wonderful. It was true that she was missing her wings; but for someone to actually see that and recognize it... it was almost unthinkable for her, and yet here it was.

“And here we are,” Kuléo said, as he held back seats for Papa and Maman. He then held out one for Aile... it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t. He did!

Kuléo was holding out a chair built for les volants, with a lower back.

Aile blushed furiously and smiled so widely that she thought her face might break. She nodded to him and sat in the chair.

“It’s what they had available,” he said to her parents in response to their strange looks, and shrugged. As they turned away, he looked at Aile and winked. “For my little wing.”

Aile didn’t miss the emphasis he put on the last word, a little pun on her name. She couldn’t get the silly grin off her face no matter how hard she tried.

Aile’s parents had never really spent much time talking with les volants, so it was up to her and Kuléo to try to bridge the conversational gap. It felt wonderful to be able to talk about them with some authority and to be backed up by one; her parents were merely surprised at the depth of her knowledge and her passion on the subject.

“And are your parents here tonight, Pierre?” Papa asked. Kuléo had a brief moment of pain like a cloud passing across his face, but it was so quick that Aile thought no one but she had noticed.

“This sort of thing,” he said, waving his hand around to indicate the room, “is not really their style. As you probably know, our home is a more informal sort of place. Some of us have adapted more easily than others. I probably wouldn’t be here except for your daughter,” he said with a nod at Aile. She blushed again.

Dinner passed in companionable conversation, and then the dancing began. Kuléo nodded his head toward the dance floor while looking at Aile, and she smiled and accompanied him onto it. Lively old ballroom jazz was playing.

“I have to warn you, I don’t know how to dance,” Aile whispered to Kuléo.

“Hah, everyone says that,” he replied. “Anyway, many human dances don’t work very well with wings. Some of those spins and swings make us move in ways that our bodies don’t quite agree with. We have others, though, and I’ll lead you through one tonight. Just relax, don’t think too hard about it, and let me take the lead.”

Aile nodded nervously, but was happy once again that he would honor her in such a way.

At first she had some trouble, but when she did as he suggested and just let herself go into the dance, it all melted away. It was like she knew the steps already, or perhaps like a melody that one has heard in the background for years and can hum on command without knowing what it is. Kuléo did use his wings, too, and Aile could easily see where hers would fit into the dance. She could almost feel the muscles trying to move them in time to it, but of course, nothing was there. Yet.

Next was a slow, romantic number. The two of them stayed out on the floor and danced a much slower dance that was more encouraging of quiet talk.

“You know, Kuléo...” she started out. She had never felt closer to someone, nor that there had ever been a better time to say it. I want to be one of you, her mind’s mouth said. But no words came out. She tried again. I want to... still no words. She couldn’t do it. She was afraid of what he would say, and didn’t want to ruin the moment. “Never mind,” she finished lamely, with a slight shake of her head.

“If there’s anything you want to say to me,” he said gently. “Anything at all. I’m here for you. Just say it. I don’t bite.” He smiled at his echo of her comment, and she did as well. But she just shook her head again.

“Thank you for being my friend while I’ve been here,” she said. “It’s been really nice. And I’ve not really had any Ka’aulele friends.” He gave her a quick squeeze while they danced.

“It’s not like it’s been a burden,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Thank you for being my friend, too. I’ve lived a lonely life lately.” Aile smiled again.

“Here we are with the silly small talk,” she said with a chuckle. He smiled too.

“These wings,” he said with a quick glance toward his shoulder, “are really precious to me. And they’re very sensitive. I’m really very lucky that nothing broke during our ski stunt. I’m still not sure how I got away from that in one piece. Perhaps some instinct for tucking them back. But what I’m trying to say is... your question on the first day... Can you touch them? Can you see how vulnerable that would make one of us, and what sort of trust is needed to let someone near that delicate part of our bodies?”

Aile just looked at his face steadily and nodded, sensing that he was not upbraiding her for her embarrassing question earlier. The song was just about coming to an end.

“There’s something else we do, when we want to show special affection for someone we really trust.” He stopped their dancing. “It works like this.”

Kuléo reached his wings around toward the front of his body and shifted Aile to one side. Suddenly, before she knew what was happening, she was surrounded by warm boy and rustling feathers. He had hugged her with his wing.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and smiled at him as a tear rolled down her cheek. He pulled his wings back and wiped the tear away, smiling back at her.

Kuléo and Aile exchanged contact information and promised to stay in touch. He lived in a somewhat far out suburb of Paris, and she lived on the opposite side; but they agreed to try to visit once in a while. Papa and Maman invited him over for dinner some time, and he said he’d be delighted. Goodbyes were said all around, and they began the long trip back home.

Aile had never told Kuléo her deep, dark secret. But then again, he had not told her his, either. All in all, it was a companionable sort of conspiracy.