If I Had Wings to Fly

Chapter 2: Shortcuts

My work-shoes are heavy and slap against the asphalt. Thwaap thwaap thwaap. As the sun peeks out of the horizon, local song birds are encouraged in their melodies. I reach the edge of our grid-like suburbs and abruptly skid to a halt. This is where I stop and wait for barking, as I do every morning.

I stare at the fence and at the "no trespassing" sign. My feet are rooted to the ground. It's kind of silly how many memories can be tied to a dinky little fence. Like the first time Elise decided to hop it. And how she encouraged me to do the same. She showed me where to put my feet, and how not to get my jeans caught. How many days did I have with Elise where at some point we stood right here? I continue staring, wondering what she's doing now?

Elise founded the shortcut because she's naturally a rule breaker. It's because Mom's house is so close to the high school, but the roads make it ten times longer. The high school and middle school are technically in the same building, but no one cares to differentiate. The high school and our neighborhood both sit above the rest of town on a bench, separated by a neglected farm. I look on at Mr. Tirlos's deadbeat orchard. The gnarled trees beckon me like a sinister omen. You can't see the school through the trees, but if you can find the path behind Tirlos's farm, it's about a 15-minute walk from where I stand. But that's not the path I take any more.

For four years, I've turned right and followed the road into town. The cracked pavement slopes down the bench and leads through the center of town. It passes a deli, a grocery store, and our local Buy Mart. Then, like a horseshoe, it climbs right back up. Basically, I have to walk down and up again to get to school. It takes about an hour.

Just as I'm turning to leave, a clamorous noise makes me jump. I whip my head around. A breeze picks up and sends an empty bottle clinking and rolling down the empty street.

I thought I heard barking.

My arms prickle. 

I try and remember my conversation with Elise on that day.

"You're grown enough. You can walk by yourself."

"But why? Why can't I ride with you?"

"My friends don't have enough room."

"I can sit on someone's lap!"

"Birdie No."

"What about Mr. Tirlos?"

"What about him?" she said, tucking her auburn hair behind her ear. Her eyes were on her cell phone, and she was smiling.

"He said yesterday he'd stop us once and for all!" I said with a whine. That made her look up from her phone. Her eyes were torn. I could tell she was considering taking me with her.

Finally, she tried to be reassuring, "He won't do anything to you." Her phone buzzed again, drawing her attention away.

"It's me he doesn't like. It's time to be brave, little sis," she said smiling at her phone.

There was a knock at the door. We  walked outside together, our breath mingling in the frosty air. Seconds later I felt the sting of jealousy as her friend's car carried away my sister's laugh. I started on my walk to school.

Uninvited memories of snarling and growling transport me back to that morning. I shake my head not wanting to relive it, but my brain doesn't give me a choice.

As I walked our familiar path, worn in by years of sneakers and winter boots passing through, I remember wondering how quiet the morning was. I only noticed because even the birds were quiet, which intrigued me.

Then when I saw Tirlos, he didn't yell at me. Another red flag? Maybe not... Maybe Elise was right. Mr. Tirlos didn't hate me. He could tolerate me better since I wasn't as rude as my sister, right? Alarm bells were blaring, but I ignored them and continued down the path. Mr. Tirlos screamed something from a distance, so I looked over my shoulder with a friendly smile. Kill them with kindness, I thought to myself. As the screen door slammed shut, I met his eyes between the unkempt trees. Blurry flashes of black came barreling towards me like heat seeking cannon balls.

Two ferocious rottweilers sped toward me. I didn't have time to think RUN when one latched onto my arm. The other tore at my jeans, then my leg as they wrestled me to the ground. My backpack broke my fall, but it knocked the wind out of me. At first, I could only wheeze... then I screamed as I kicked my legs and fists in panic. Sharp white teeth pierced my flesh and thrashed wildly.

"Stop! Damn Mutts, I said Stop! Let her go! Stop!"

My vision blurred and a shadow fell over me. At some point, I stopped fighting, and just hoped it would end.

There was a kick and a whimper, and the growling stopped.

My vision was narrow and shrouded by dark red. My cheek lay in mud as a pair of mangy slippers stopped by my face. Knobby knees jutted out of a dirty bath robe as Mr. Tirlos knelt beside me. His withered hands lifted my face, and I could see tears in his eyes. Behind him were two Rottweilers, blood dripping from their jowls.

"I'm sorry..." He croaked.

"Why?" I sobbed, squinting my eyes with pain.

It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault.