Smevy

8

I didn't see everyone but my family for the first couple weeks. We all bundled together inside, huddled around the fire, working on various projects. Tempers quickly ran short, and the relief was immeasurable when mom and dad finally agreed to letting us go outside, just as long as we bundled up in our thickest clothes and promised not to play on the creek.

Well, "play" was the wrong word. We were all getting older, and while Purplewing and Mckayla still had fun romping through the thick snow-the rest of us preferred to make snow angels and snowmen. It was relaxing, and, for a while, I forgot all about Grya and the image of her slowly starving to death.

Eventually, though, the fun had to end- Purplewing and Grayheart said they couldn't feel their wings -and, as we all filed inside, I caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. Luckily I was already in the back, so I simply hung back and looked for the source.

It wasn't hard to find- whatever it was, it was standing on the cusp of the hill, silhouetted against the white fields like an ancient monolith. I shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold, considering whether or not to just go inside and forget about the whole thing. But of course my curiosity couldn't just let it rest, so I cleared my throat and opened my mouth, but then the figure started giggling, low and full of mirth.

"Who are you?" I asked, blushing so heavily that I knew the figure would have been able to see it if he turned around. "Why were you hanging around our house?"

"I just wanted to talk to you." He turned around, and I got my first good look at his face.

His skin was dark- about Grya's level -and his hair was similarly brown, though a few shades deeper, and kind of red. It was styled elegantly, with two long locks in the front, the middle at about his ears, and the back a huge swooping affair that flowed down his back. His eyes were different colors, like Jane, except his left eye was purple, the right green. He was wearing a big, long coat that looked like it was made of bear fur, though his build was much slighter than such a big coat would make you think. His pants and shoes seemed to be of the same bear, turning him into a dark shadow against the otherwise white sky and countryside.

"You can call me The Traveler," he said. "I've heard you've been having some trouble lately?"

"You don't know anything about me," I retorted, tensing. I had a bad feeling about this guy, though I knew I couldn't drive him off on my own. If I moved fast enough, maybe-

"Grya sent me."

Those three words stopped my head in it's tracks. "What?"

"She said she had a feeling there was something you weren't telling her, so I came." He smiled warmly. "You want to talk about it?"

"I..." I had no idea how to answer. How did I know he was telling the truth? And, even if he was, how did I know I could trust him? And just because I could trust that he wouldn't tell anyone my secret didn't mean I should tell him.

A few long minutes passed, and he nodded. "I understand your hesitation, but I promise, I'm here to help. I've been there for Grya, and she's said before that she thinks of me like a second father. In fact..." He reached into a pocket I hadn't seen before and held out a folded piece of paper. "Here."

I grabbed and unfolded it. On the rough paper, in Grya's handwriting, were the words,

"Smevy, if this has gotten to you, it means The Traveler found you. Trust him. He's been more helpful to me than I can ever say, and he'll be there in ways you clearly don't want me. Please, talk to him, and maybe you'll be ready to tell me next spring.

-Sincerely, Grya"

I couldn't help but focus on the passive-aggressive subtext. I had no idea she had noticed...or was so bothered by it! I didn't say any of that, though, instead replying with, "So I guess you're telling the truth."

"Exactly," said The Traveler, sounding not at all bothered. "So? What will it be?"

"Jooooooseeeepphhh!" Called my mom's voice. She sounded worried. I didn't want her to think something bad had happened, so I had to make my decision quickly. It only took a moment.

"I need to go," I told him. "But can you meet me here at midnight?"

"Excellent," said The Traveler, his smile widening. "Of course. I'll be waiting at the bottom of the hill where the road turns."

I knew exactly where he was talking about. "I'll see you there."

That night, I slipped out, pulled on my boots, and crept across the beaten snow, flinching every time my foot touched a frozen branch. I'd never snuck out at night, and every guilty part of my brain was screaming out in protest. "This is worth it," I muttered under my breath. "If he can really help you..." I still had no idea how exactly he was going to accomplish that, but, by this point, I was just happy to have any human interaction other than my family.

It didn't take long to find him. There was only one turn in the road that he could have been talking about, though the skid down the hill was gut-churning when I almost fell down for the fifth time.

"Welcome," said The Traveler, standing up from his spot on a fallen log. "Thank you for coming to see me."

"Thank you." I replied, unsure of what exactly I was thanking him for but wanting to be polite. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Anything and everything," said The Traveler. A calculating glint entered his mismatched eyes, though it wasn't evil- more like he was trying to figure me out. "Let's start with something easy. Have you ever felt like you don't belong with 'normal' people?"

"Sometimes," I said uncomfortably. That was true- there were times that a little voice inside would tell me that maybe the reason I didn't fit in with the other kids is because I was too weird.

"Why is that?"

"I..." You can trust him, I thought to myself. Grya said so. "I feel like a girl sometimes," I continued, "and I know that's weird, but-"

"That's not weird at all," said The Traveler kindly. "How exactly do you mean?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Are you a girl most of the time, or just sometimes? And how much of a girl are you?"

"It's about a third of the time," I said. It felt weird actually saying it out loud- less like it was something to hide. "I feel a lot like a boy for another third, and then somewhere in the middle for the rest of the time."

"I see. Which pronouns do you like?"

I was gaining confidence. "It really depends. When I'm a girl, it's she/her, and when I'm a boy, it's he/him."

"What about when you're in the middle?"

"I don't mind either way."

"Alright, is there anything else you think is worth mentioning?"

"I like to wear dresses when I'm all girl," I told him, "And wish that I looked like my sisters."

"And you prefer Smevy, right?"

"Yeah."

"Interesting. Well, Smevy, I think I know what you are."

Chills ran down my spine, but I couldn't decide if they were from fear or excitement. "Really?"

"Yes." He gave me a deadly serious stare.

"Smevy, I think you're Bigender."