Fly On, Wayward Daughter

Summer flew by, and September had come when Aila was working with Audrey, the woman who was with her at her original “screening appointment”, in the office.

Keys were clacking on a computer and papers were occasionally rustled lightly. Audrey’s wings had grown nearly as large as Aila’s, but they were not quite large enough for flight. Not for a human her size, anyhow, and few of her bones had hollowed, owing to her age. Aila often saw her looking in the mirror in worry and crossing her fingers. But word was, her wings might not grow anymore, and she might never fly.

“Do you ever...” Audrey started to say to Aila suddenly, and stopped. Aila looked up at her. “No, of course not,” Audrey finished lamely.

“Do I ever what?” Aila asked curiously.

“Do you ever have any regrets?” Audrey replied. “About... all of this.” She waved her hand around. “This.” Touched one of her feathers. “Your exile from home, the never quite fitting in. Do you have any regrets?”

“No,” Aila said quickly, and then she was obviously spending more time thinking about it. “I guess it sure has made my life strange, and sometimes a little painful. But it’s what I’ve always wanted and needed. I can’t imagine not having done everything I did.”

Audrey looked down at the paper she had been working on. She seemed to be staring it down, as if it had done something horrible to her.

“I was in a good relationship,” Audrey said after a moment. “I was with a woman who loved me. Or I thought so. We were talking about finding a donor for children. She couldn’t follow where I went.” Audrey wiped tears from her eyes. “She said, it’s hard enough having people accept us for being two women. What do you think they would say about les volants and humans dating?”

Aila just sat quietly, not really knowing what to say.

“At least my family still talks to me. I didn’t have that to deal with, like you did. They thought it was a bit strange, but my Papa just said to me, ’whatever makes you happy, sweetheart’.” Her tears renewed. “And now, maybe, I can’t even fly.”

Aila came over, turned her stool and gave her a hug. It was a strange feeling, being a sixteen year old girl giving comfort to a middle-aged woman. But here she was anyway.

“I wouldn’t be like the KtH people,” Audrey said, pulling away from Aila. “I wouldn’t want them gone again. I wasn’t lying when I said I felt I needed them. But... it’s hard. I have to wonder if there was some other way. Something less I could’ve done.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Aila said after a few moments. “Except that you do have a family here. But I know how sometimes that’s not enough. Maybe you could try finding your partner from before. Who knows, maybe she’s changed her mind since then, and she’s missed you just as much.”

Audrey shrugged and her wings almost flapped a little. They were visibly shaking, too. “It’s worth a try, I suppose.”

“See?” Aila said with a smile. “There you go.”

In December, Kuléo and Aila decided to take another ski trip. She hadn’t been since the time they’d met, and they both agreed it might be a fun date. She had gained more than a little in royalties from her singing work, and they had both been earning a stipend from L’aide Alchemique for their work there over the years.

For nostalgia’s sake, they decided to go back to Les Trois Vallées and visit the same slopes where they’d had their first adventures. They found a room in a small hotel and took a zeppelin. As the Ka’aulele man had said to her long ago, it did get tiring to fly; and as fun as it can be, sometimes it was easier to let someone else do the driving. Carrying all their baggage might have been a bit of a strain as well.

They checked in to their room, dropped their things, rented some gear, and went straight up to the ski slope where Aila had first seen Kuléo flying down with his gold shield. Taking a human-sized ski-lift was an issue; but thankfully by now the operators of this lift had installed some seats that had much lower backs, for les volants. They still had to lift their wings in a strange way to fit them in, but it wasn’t so bad after getting the hang of it.

When they reached the top, they headed over to the beginning of the slope and looked at each other with a grin.

“Okay,” Kuléo started in a somewhat sarcastic tone. “Here’s how this works. You tuck your hands to your sides and...” He didn’t get any farther because she had whacked his arm playfully, and then they were both laughing.

The two of them jumped off, Aila lowering her wings as flat as they would go, as she’d seen Kuléo doing years ago.

“Now!” she heard him yell, and the both whipped their wings out. She was in the air at once, and tucked her arms and legs in. Things were a little awkward at first because of the added weight and drag of her ski gear, and it changed her balance in strange ways, too. But she was able to flap enough to make up for it, and they headed back up to the top to do it a few more times.

“Show-offs,” she heard a woman mutter under her breath nearby, but she was smiling.

Later in the day, they explored the village again. It looked much the same as it had, but Aila saw it with new eyes.

“It’s hard to believe that I was that little girl who came here with stars in her eyes,” she mused.

“But I’m glad you did,” Kuléo replied, and blew her a little kiss that she returned.

She put a really tentative, longing look on her face and reached out as if to touch his wings. “Can I... may I...” she said, in a little mockery of her younger voice.

Kuléo didn’t flinch away this time, nor did he look embarrassed. He took her hand in his, and then raised his other hand as if to touch her wings. “Only if I can...”

They heard another Ka’aulele walking by who said to his companion in a voice that was obviously not meant to carry, “Get a room, you two!”

Aila and Kuléo laughed and pulled apart.

On their last day in the village, they sent their bags ahead to the zeppelin port, checked out of their hotel, and headed up the slope for one more go. The equipment rental had an option to check in at the zeppelin port, in case someone wanted to cross-country ski there instead of taking a taxi.

As they started down, their wings went whoosh, and they were sailing out above the slope together, toward the zeppelin port.

On the ground below, a man and a woman were watching them sail off into the sunset.

“They can be so beautiful, can’t they?” the woman said with a heartfelt sigh.

“That they can. But... it puts me too much in the mind of our deformed daughter,” the man said.

Jean and Adeline Molyneaux made their way back to the cottage they’d rented, the same one they’d rented four years earlier.

In the next three months, Aila and Kuléo attended many gatherings and parties that were primarily made up of Na’aulele. They avoided the “exclusive” ones after that first one, but there were still plenty to be had: dances, ballroom gatherings, dinners formal and informal, dance club parties. Képaki was even the DJ for one of the last, and the fact that Aila knew him seemed to gain her instant credit with the other partygoers. He played one of her songs and she sang along, to raucous cheers.

In March there was an annual party of all things and everyone Ka’aulele. No invitation was required; everyone who was interested in them, or was one of them, was invited.

The two of them arrived, and the giant room was a cacophony of conversation, music, and wing noises–rustled feathers, the occasional flap, and the very occasional full spread above the heads of the crowd. A strange but not unpleasant smell filled the air, and Aila assumed it was a combination of the coffee spice, which she had learned was called tafaulé, and feather smells.

They even ran into the elderly grandmother who had told Aila the story during the uncomfortable party.

“Oh hello, Ma’ana,” she said, for Aila had continued going by the name, partially out of new habit, partially out of a continued fear of those shadowy rumors from last year. A mixture of French and Ka’aulele were being spoken at the gathering, but Aila stayed in Ka’aulele out of respect for the woman.

“Hello,” she replied. “How have you been?”

They exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes, and then she wandered off. Aila had been hoping for another story, but thought perhaps it would be rude to ask for one explicitly.

As was often the case, Aila felt a bit like an outsider among the crowd. She had wings, but she was not precisely Ka’aulele. She had human genetics, but she was not precisely human. Aila didn’t know where she fit; she just felt that she fit better with the Na’aulele, and intended to try to blend in with her adopted family however she could.

A huge buffet dinner was held with a spread of food that was, in total, as long as a football field. Of course, Aila thought with amusement, there’s not a hint of eggs or bird-flesh anywhere on it. There were other kinds of meat in addition to the normal Ka’aulele fish varieties, in deference to the human participants of the event. But no birds or bird products.

After dinner some speeches were given on various topics relevant to the Na’aulele. Since they were all fairly proficient in French, they were given in that language. That was followed by a dance in which all styles of dancing were to be seen: human, Ka’aulele, and everything in between. Kuléo and Aila, of course, participated in both kinds. They were familiar with the human ones, and their wings made them more suited to some Ka’aulele dances.

It was then that an unfortunately familiar voice reached their ears.

“Ma’ana, Kuléo,” she heard Ailéa say as the bird-woman walked over. “How have you been?”

They passed the conversation with her with as much civility as they could muster, and then excused themselves as soon as possible, gravitating to a spot as far away from her as possible.

Kuléo sighed. “That woman is bad news, Aila,” he said, and then quickly tried to recover by continuing, “...ma’ana,” as if it were part of her name. But someone had overheard.

“Aila? You’re that Aila?” Another woman had walked over to them, babbling enthusiastically. “No way! I’d heard so many stories about how you were ugly or deformed or any number of other things, but you’re so beautiful! It’s so cool that you could grow your wings like that.”

Aila was becoming very embarrassed, and tried to disengage from the woman, but other heads had already turned. Many people hadn’t heard the rumors, but obviously a few had, and they were putting a few things together. Unfortunately, one of them was...

“Aila Ma’ana Téwari,” Ailéa said near at hand. She looked angry. “Aile Molyneaux. Wow. I never knew. I bet you were laughing at me the whole time we talked at that last party, weren’t you? Pretending like you’re one of us.”

Aila was shaking her head, but she knew at this point that it was pointless to deny it. She was pulling Kuléo gently toward the door, thinking to leave before more damage was done. But Ailéa wasn’t finished.

“Hey, everyone,” she yelled out in Ka’aulele. “It’s Aila Téwari over here! Here to see in all her glory and shame.” Ailéa had obviously had more than a couple of drinks, too. Nearly everyone was looking now.

Aila and Kuléo gave up on a graceful retreat and simply pushed their way to the doors, ducking their heads to try to avoid the other partygoers’ stares.

But Ailéa was still not done. Way more than a couple of drinks, Aila corrected herself mentally. She was pursuing them to the door.

“That’s right, freak,” she yelled. “Just run, run out of here. You don’t belong here. You don’t belong anywhere.”

They were outside now, but Ailéa had followed her. It was raining, and Aila’s wings felt too heavy to support. She couldn’t understand how such a good evening had gone downhill so quickly.

“Tell me one thing, Ailéa,” Aila said in a shaky and not entirely kind voice. “Can you fly through the aurora still?”

Ailéa’s face turned red, her tone angrier than ever.

“Who are you to question me, mutant? Get out of here! GET OUT!”

Aila sat on the curb by the entrance to the party, her wings splayed out to the sides in disarray. She didn’t care.

Kuléo was there, but there was nothing he could do. All of her fears of rejection, the fears she had been dodging diligently for months, had come to pass.

She just stared numbly at the ground, watching the cobblestones dampen with the mixture of rain and her tears.