Page 24 of Wounded Wing

We’re known in town for causing a stir. Always hiding cherry poppers under toilet seats, tossing sparkler sticks into mail slots, and possibly causing a fire in the chemistry lab last year. Our best moments together are when I have a new experiment to test in the old barn.

Danny is my designer; he draws the basic outline, and I fulfill it to the best of my abilities. We have boxes filled to the brim with notebooks that hold every potential project we’ve managed to conjureup. Danny likes to think of it as us being entrepreneurs. One day, we could make something big and move to N’awlins.

“Happy birthday, America!” I scream, my voice muted from the deafening boom as multiple Spirals headed for the stars explode. The neon greens and purples remind me of Mardi Gras.

Danny barks out a laugh at my commentary, “And happy birthday to the best girl in the world!” he yells, his deep voice carrying over the next wave of fireworks.

I can’t help but laugh with him over the continuous barrage of sparkling lights and earth-shaking sounds. The summer air is thick with the stench of sulfur, but there’s no place I’d rather be than in this field with him.

The grand finale starts with Crackles, Spiders, and Mines, ending with an epic explosion of gold sparks raining down like thousands of falling stars. I’m entranced; no one could pull me away even if they tried.

“Oh shit, I’ve got one more present for you. I’ll be right back!” he blurts, rushing towards our old barn.

I barely acknowledge him as several loud whistles echo in the field before Willows, Waterfalls, and Timerain enter the atmosphere at record speeds. My heart races with adrenaline knowing the best part of the finale is about to start.

“Danny! Come quick, the Commets are about to go off–”

A wave of heat scalds my back, burning the exposed flesh as thick black smoke blankets the sky, choking me as I scramble away. My mouth opens in a soundless scream, unable to comprehend how much pain I’m in.

“Mae! Help me, Mae!” he yells, the remaining fireworks muffling his voice. “Mae! Someone? Anyone!” he cries.

“Daniel! Daniel, get out of the fucking barn!” I scream, struggling to pull fresh air back into my body as I stumble to the barn doors. Heat radiates from the old wood while colorful flames tear through the cracks.

“Danny?” I croak. “Baby, answer me, God, dammit!”

Why isn’t Danny crying anymore?

Dark spots cloud my vision as my body lungs fight for air. My legs give out from under me, sending me sprawling across the dirt as I hear our parents yelling. I blow out a slow breath of relief, Da will make it better. I’ll see my Danny boy when I wake up, and this will all just be a terrible dream.

The last thing I see before the dark shadows claim me is Daniel’s mom falling to her knees.

Her screams lull me to sleep.

My baby! You took my baby!

You killed Danny.

Chapter eighteen

Present day

Staring down at my phone, it illuminatesUnknown Callerin the darkness of my room. The penthouse remains silent, unlike the darkest part of my mind. Mrs. Fremont’s cries still echo, as they have since the day Daniel died.

I lost apart of myself that day, reality slipped through my fingers. Ma said the Devil took me that day, possessed by one of those demons that make folks go insane.

If only she could see me now.

It might have been because I found out I was pregnant when I woke up in the hospital the next day. Danny and I fooled around a bit before my birthday, moving our relationship from friends to something more. We were young, in love, and thought we had all the time in the world.

Losing him meant losing a piece of myself. Each day my mentality slipped more and more, leaving me in hysteria. Da insisted I needed an actual doctor, not church, unlike Ma who wanted me to keep praying the darkness away. Da was always the practical one out of my parents, the fixer of our family until the day he took his last breath. I guess the fixer had his own problems and found the solution at the bottom of a bottle after I left.

Eight months was all it took to graduate from the psychiatric program at River Oaks Hospital in N’awlins. The facility was pleasant enough; no one treated me like a murderer or a sinner at least. Just pity. The doctors and therapists fixed my head on right so I could be a fit mother. After my release from the institute and with some help from the state of Louisiana, I was set up in a halfway house. Their only condition was that I had three weeks to get a job orelse.

That’s when I met Atticus Lennon, Lucifer himself in the flesh. I sold him my soul without a moment’s hesitation when I walked to Le Papillon, begging for a job. Atticus offered me a position as a dancer before he bothered to learn my name or age, which suitedme just fine. He lured me in with his soft words, beautiful flowers by the dozens, and preferential stage shifts. Six months later I signed my name on the dotted line.

Mrs. Mae Lennon.

The screen of my phone fades to black as the call goes unanswered,again.

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