Page 57 of Memories Like Fangs
No, like the leader I was.
Byrd, we’re coming. Just hang on a little while longer for me.
Oak Tree
BYRD
Iwas starting to like Lilah’s memory tricks. Some of them actually weren’t that bad.
It was Family Game Night in the Pierce house. The plates with only the remains of Mom’s famous Christmas dinner were still warm on the table. The serving dishes that Pops and I gathered to rinse before putting in the dishwasher were licked clean. Songs from theUltimate Motown Christmasalbum played softly on Pops’ record player in the background of the bustle of the party. On the rare occasion of a lull in the conversation, it was as if the record player turned up its volume. There had been a few times before and during dinner where Mom, Pops, Aunt Max, Everett, and I were singing along, having heard the songs every year. Quinn even hummed along to a few.
When I looked at her with raised eyebrows, she shrugged and simply said, “My mom is ahugeR&B fan.”
“Sounds like me and your mom will be fast friends,” Mom winked at Quinn before sipping her wine.
Pops and I cleared the table of the serving platters and plates before replacing the dishware for dessert made by me and Quinn. There was sticky toffee pudding, shortbread cookies dusted with powdered sugar and some filled with a cranberryorange jam, a ginger spice cake, and a classic Italian tiramisu. Everyone oohed and awed at the assortment, praising me and Quinn for going all out.
“I cannot take any credit for this,” I confessed as I returned to my seat. “I was only allowed to measure ingredients out. My Baker Mistress wouldn’t let me do anything else, so this is all her.”
Before I sat down, Quinn pulled me into her lap and kissed me on the lips. “And, I couldn’t have imagined a better Sous Chef. Let alone a sexier one.”
I rolled my eyes but smiled. “Always flirting.”
We plowed through dessert with more compliments being thrown at Quinn for how delicious it was and at my mother for having made dinner so good, too. Talli’s daughters, Leah and Betty, bickered over who would have the last sticky toffee pudding cup. Talli and her husband were in their own bubble, trading kisses and conspiratorial whispers of love. Teddy and Max got into an animated argument over the proper rules of Spades, which had to be settled by Pops, ever the Rules Keeper, before it got too heated. While eating more tiramisu, Everett shook his head, saying how it didn’t matter which rules they played because he and Teddy were going to dominate, which made Quinn cackle and smirk up at me like she knew already that we were going to win every single round we played. Mom and Talli chatted just like old friends, with frequent bursts of Mom’s contagious from-the-belly laugh interlaced in between.
It was all so perfect.
Even the walls of the house seemed to breathe with us, the air light with cheer. The fire in the fireplace curled and the shadows put on a show for us, adding to the joyful atmosphere as the afternoon waned. The lights hanging all around and on the tree in the front living room window still danced in the daytime to a Christmas carol of their own, silenced to not take away fromthe record player. The only presents left underneath the tree were purely for decoration since we had opened all of ours in the wee hours of the morning. The whole house was just so bright with mirth and something that felt like peace, or at least the kind of thing that sinks into your bones before you realize you’re breathing easier and everything is okay. Better than okay, actually. It was the kind of thing that made everything feel like it was the best it would ever be.
It was the kind of something that made you try to memorize every detail.
I wanted to remember so much more than just their faces, so full of life. No, I focused on how my heart tripped over itself when Mom kissed the top of my head and called me her “baby Byrd” or “boo-boo.” I tried to etch deep into my mind Max’s guffaw and the way she slapped Everett’s arm when he lost at Uno and threw a fit with how many Draw Fours she put down. Even how Pops measured Quinn when he thought no one noticed with his eyes that were so much like my own, yet with more wisdom and care, was something I never wanted to forget. The look he had was not cold or suspicious, just inquisitive, like he was trying to decide if she was the one for me. She very obviously was, especially with how easily she interacted with everyone, but the quiet seeking of his own assurance of that fact was adorable.
My family was right where they should’ve been all along: alive and loud and laughing andtogether.
We played until the golden hour passed, the orange of the sun in the house giving way to shadow just before nightfall. Quinn and I were undefeated in every single game we played, high-fiving like smug champions in celebration every time, much to the kind-hearted chagrin and eye roll of our competition. While there was still daylight, we all spilled outside into the backyard and the forest behind my childhood home. Theentrance to the woods was still the same as when I last entered it. It was still made of the same hardwood limbs with thickets of yellow daisies on the bottom of each side and surrounded by a sea of trees. I gleefully led us in, bouncing on the balls of my feet while I held Quinn’s hand tight. The trees and their branches were so expansive that they blotted out the sky. No one seemed to mind, though, as the woods were filled with the cheerful chatter of everyone, including Mom’s short stories entertaining both me and Talli’s girls. By the time we reached the perfect spot, a great clearing with a huge opening in the trees, the horizon was turning navy with stars peeking into the blue gradient like someone had taken a needle to velvet.
“Are you ready, baby Byrd?” Mom smiled at me.
I beamed, nodding ferociously.
She stepped forward first, barefoot in the grass of the clearing. Despite the setting day, what little sunlight remained caught on the edge of her tattooed tail wrapped around one leg and the traditional dragon wings on her back, the gold shimmer on the red making her scales look like flames. Then, they surfaced from her dark sepia-toned skin, ink peeling and swirling and breathing until a spiky tail and dark garnet wings appeared. She allowed them a moment to breathe and stretch out to their full capacity. Then, fire spiraled around her, swallowing her for a heartbeat. It grew in size, flames seeming like they would lick the tree tops and start a wildfire.
When it cleared away, there was Mom the dragon.
She was just as I remembered her as a child. She was still the same stunning spectacle that was truly larger than life. Her brilliant scales gleamed a deep red, like rubies and gold catching sunlight. Her black curls flowed down the length of her long neck, golden horns curling back in an elegant arc toward where her head met her neck. Mom’s obsidian necklace had grown with her, dangling against her scales. Her wings and tail hadexpanded with her, too, very classic and full of power. Yet, in her almost-black eyes with the black slitted pupil, I saw a twinkle of warmth and love there that could only belong to my mother.
“I have got to stop letting her go before me every year. She’s a showstopper, and I’m just the opening act,” Pops said as he tugged off his shirt. Unlike me and Mom, Pops didn’t have detailed and realistic tattoos of his wings and tail. He used to say it was because of how and where he grew up versus how Mom did. Mom’s enchantment was secluded, and they were able to walk freely in their half-shifted forms. So, she never learned how to shift fully into a human and required a magic intervention to be fully human, like I did. Pops’s enchantment, however, was hidden amongst humans and other supernatural creatures, so he had to learn how to shift on his own, and they were often taught so at an early age.
“Oh, please, try followingbothof you,” I smiled.
He just chuckled.
A silver mist gathered at his feet before it swirled upward like a storm cloud with a heartbeat of its own. It rolled over him, forming a sphere of cloud and air. Like Mom’s flames had before, the cloud grew in size, but this one was even larger than the fire was. The whirlwind made the trees shake like a storm was brewing around us. Just when I thought the tornado would start snapping branches and leaves off the trees, it disappeared, and Pops’s dragon form emerged. Earthy ash wood-colored scales ran down his gigantic body that measured at least thirty-five feet from nose to tail. Wings with feathers of shimmering aquamarine, topaz, and emerald flapped a few times as if to help him settle into his body more. There were matching feathers at the end of his tail, swishing behind him. His mudpie brown eyes were now a dark navy blue with a matching thin pupil like Mom’s and watched me from their great height, towering above me expectantly and excitedly.
It’s my turn now.
As if it had been waiting for this moment for ages, my crystal chrysalis magic enveloped me happily before my tattoos could even surface, warming my whole body. My body began to stretch and grow. I could feel the change rippling through me, shredding my clothes, my limbs lengthening and my chest and other parts of my body expanding. My pink locs grew long and wild down my extended neck like a mane. From the crown of my head, horns grew in sharp crystal pillars, arcing toward my spine just like Mom’s. My jaw reshaped into something draconic, long fangs sliding into place like knives in velvet. Equally as long yet curved, my nails became obsidian talons. Behind me, the tattoos of my tail and wings surfaced from my skin, growing to match my massive size. Just as my serpentine tail uncoiled, my dragonfly wings exploded outward, delicate but vast, shimmering like stained glass. My holographic scales took over my entire body, wave after wave of chrome-pastel brilliance in pale shades of blues, pinks, and purples covering my skin in opal glints. It felt like time stilled. Or, maybe I was just outside of it, suspended in the shift. It was as if I were held perfectly between who I had been and who I truly was now.
