Four Years Later
I was scouring the treehouse, desperate to find the contact lenses I'd misplaced. I wore brown contacts to hide my eyes ever since my mother had transformed me into a boy.
I wasn't sure if it was because she was in a rush or if it was a final punishment, but she hadn't changed my eye color along with my body. Today, of all days, I couldn't lose themâespecially not on my birthday. My chest tightened as I glanced at the sunlight filtering through the branches outside.
Today, everything would change.
Mother had promised.
Having found nothing upstairs, I stuck my eye against a knothole in the floor to see if I could spot them below, but I had no luck. They weren't at the foot of the oak tree either. I shoved aside a pile of library books to check if I'd kicked the container under themâstill nothing.
Klick and Klack, the skeletal birds I'd created several years ago, were flapping on the windowsill, worrying a ladybug. I had formed the two birds from pieces of bone that rose from the lawn, assembling into shapes that I guessed were once sparrows. Ever since my riding accident when I was five, I'd been able to make skeleton friends, but my mother punished me whenever I attempted it in her presence.
Once, I welcomed a very malicious spirit into our home, and I still freaked out at the sight of dolls because of it.
My birds were full of mischief, but I adored them. Klick had "feathers" made from crocheted layers in a rainbow of colors, which covered all but its beak and skeletal feet. In contrast, Klack looked like a pink pom-pom kiwi with flat, fluffy wings.
On the day I made them, Aisa didn't even blink when they flew into her home. Out of uncharacteristic kindness, she gave me some yarn and I made their coverings for them, like I'd learned to do with my other skeletal friends.
After enduring more teasing, the ladybug managed to evade their snapping beaks and fled.
No questions, just handed me the yarn.
It was because of Aisa that I had a place to stay, so I was grateful to her.
But, despite this, she often frightened me. That day was one of those days.
In the face of something that would have frightened others, she acted like it wasn't strange at all.
And so, I didn't trust her with my story.
The only one I trusted completely was Luis.
Luis was my constant companion, but despite this, I often felt alone. He had secrets that kept him away for most of the night on mysterious errands.
No amount of threats or bribes could get him to tell me where he went.
Luis was all I had, so he knew my threats were empty and my bribes worthless.
"Where are they?" I muttered as I moved more junk around in my messy treehouse.
Louis would be furious.
"Did you take my contacts?" I asked Klick and Klack, narrowing my eyes at them. They snapped their beaks in protest, insisting they were innocent.
I hummed at them suspiciously.
I knew my contacts were expensive, and I had no idea how Luis managed to get them for me.
That was another of his secrets.
Just as I was growing more anxious, I heard a bark from outside.
I looked out the window. Luis was there beneath the tree in his dog formâa shaggy black malamute, scruffy enough to irritate Aisa. He sat still, his dark eyes following my every move. He knew something was wrong.
"I lost the contacts," I muttered defensively.
Luis climbed up the steps to the treehouse and woofed again. He nosed around for a moment before picking up a small pouch with his teeth.
"No, that's a new chain for my mother's earrings. The one I'm wearing is corroding again."
Luis dropped the pouch and shifted back into his human form, looking down at me with raised eyebrows. "You're hopeless, Matt. How many times have you lost your contacts?"
I winced at the harshness in his voice. "I don't know... it's not like I'm counting," I muttered.
Luis crossed his arms, his expression hardening. "You should be. You can't keep losing them like this. I can't just make more appear out of thin air." He crouched down and began searching the cramped space alongside me.
He didn't have the ability to glamour things like other fae did, and neither did I. My keyhole pupils were too dangerous to leave exposed; they were a beacon for anyone who knew what to look for.
So, the contacts were as important as water to a man dying in the desert.
That I hadn't lost my mother's earrings as well was a miracle.
I replaced the chain on the necklace I made with my mother's earrings. Before we went on the run, she made me carry them, warning me never to let them out of my sight.
Ever since, I had guarded them. Only a single person had tried to take them, and his hand withered as a result.
Maybe that was why I never lost them, as I didn't dare to take them off too long, not knowing if unsuspecting hands would be harmed. That fear kept them safe.
Unlike my contacts.
"I'm sorry," I said quietly as I shoved aside a pile of trinkets. "I didn't mean to lose them."
Luis didn't respond immediately. Instead, he continued to search in silence, his movements sharp and efficient, but his face was tense. He knew that I only became scatterbrained when my birthday rolled around.
As I clasped the chain of my mother's earrings, I whispered to the sky, "Mother, my birthday is today. Will you come this time?"
Luis lifted his hands as if to hug me, his face revealing concern as his annoyance faded away.
Every birthday, this scene played out. I would hope and pray that my mother would search me out.
And every birthday, I was disappointed.
"Matt!" a croaky voice from the house screeched, distracting me from my sorrow.
I sighed and climbed down from the treehouse. As I approached the weather-beaten row house, Aisa stuck her head out of the door, glaring at me through her thick glasses.
"You're late," she snapped, holding up one of her hideous sweaters. "And you look like a mess. Fix your hair. I need pictures for my Betsy store."
"Aisa, I can't. Not today."
She sniffed, unimpressed. "Nonsense. If you don't sit for this now, I'll make you regret it."
"It's my birthday," I muttered, hoping that would soften her attitude.
Her eyebrows shot up. "And you think that means something to me? Sit down."
I winced and sat down with a sigh. It had been silly to think Aisa would care about my birthday. She had never once shown any indication that she did. "Sorry, Aisa."
She glanced at me disapprovingly. "I heard that dog again. I told you, no strays in the yard. I don't mind your rabbit, but the dog stays out."
Luis, always the source of her irritation, had been bouncing between his forms to bother her for years. It was amusing how she still didn't know they were the same creature.
"I know. He jumps the fence. It's hard to keep him tied up." The same excuse, every time. Thankfully, she hadn't called animal control yet.
She thrust the monstrous sweater into my hands with a grunt. "Put this on. Since you're useless for anything else, at least be useful for this."
I bristled at her words but held my tongue. The ugly sweater was my rent for staying there, so I pulled it on.
The sweater was worse than usual: Pepto-Bismol-pink with oversized wings sprouting from the shoulders and red balls dotting the fabric like boils. It billowed around me, past my knees.
I glanced at one of the red lumps on the sleeve and sighed. "Who are you mad at this time?"
"Pamela Winters," she spat, her face darkening. "By tomorrow, she'll have boils the size of a hippopotamus."
"Why?" I asked, knowing I wouldn't like the answer.
"Because she's a traitor, and traitors must pay."
I wondered how Pamela Winters betrayed Aisa. Maybe she beat her at Bingo?
I raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't a stomach flu sweater be less dramatic?"
Aisa huffed. "Don't talk to me about mercy, Matt. I'm the weaver of destiny. I know what people deserve."
I didn't argue, but the image of her vibrating with rage as she knitted these curses always unnerved me.
"Maybe you could let her off this time?" I ventured, though I already knew the answer.
"I am not to be questioned!" she snapped, her brows knitting together like caterpillars on her wrinkled forehead.
Aisa claimed to be the goddess of destiny, and apparently, plenty of people in her Betsy shop believed her. Every sweater always sold out. I had stopped trying to understand her years ago.
But the weirdest part? Aisa had two boyfriends, and neither of them seemed to mind her curse-filled shop. They even played bridge with her on Wednesdays, and Bingo on Saturdays. I wasn't allowed to join them, but I always wondered what kind of conversations went on during those games.
As I stood there flapping the ends of the oversized sleeves, Aisa finally wrapped a magenta garland around me, securing it with a few stitches. She stepped back to admire her work, her expression grimly satisfied. "Good. You can take it off now."
I peeled the sweater off with a grateful shout, already roasting underneath it. "Thanks," I muttered, setting it aside.
Aisa, never satisfied, looked me up and down with a sniff of disapproval. "Such a pretty boy, yet so sloppy. Comb that mess of hair. You have the most beautiful chestnut curls when you comb it. And change into something decent."
I groaned inwardly but gave her a tight smile. Most of the time, I pulled my curly hair into a ponytail. I refused to cut it, and Mother had left it long. Its color changed, but the wild curls had not. "I'll do it later. I have to get to work."
"No, you're not going anywhere," she said, her voice sharp. "I pulled the Tower card this morning. You're staying here." Her beetled brows furrowed into a single unibrow. "Besides, I have someone you need to meet."
I shook my head, exasperated. "Aisa, I don't have time for tarot cards, or meeting another boyfriend of yours. Mike needs me at the shop."
His text sounded... weird. I was worried.
"You'll stay right here, or I'll find your rabbit and cook it for dinner!" She slammed her knitting needles into her chair for emphasis.
I couldn't help but smirk. Aisa would have to catch him first. "Good luck with that. I'm going to Mike's."
I turned to the back door and pulled on it. It wouldn't give.
I grimaced, of course, it would decide to jam when I was making my dramatic exit.
With a few more jabs against it with my shoulder, I managed to get it opened. Aisa gasped like she'd been the one making it jam.
I chuckled. Ridiculous. Luis said she was human, and I believed him.
"Matt! You get back here!"
While she was still yelling, I exited the gate with my bike. Luis was sitting on his haunches, holding a paper bag that contained two cupcakes with sprinkles. Next to him was a bottle of orange juice.
Despite being mad at me, he still wanted to celebrate my birthday. I smiled.
After pulling a cupcake from the bag, I tossed the other to him, which he chomped messily.
"I've got to get to Mike's. Come on." I took off on my bike, with Luis galloping behind me.
I would soon learn that I should have listened to Aisa.