Under His Wings

6

I laid in my bed for what felt like days, but it had only been 6 hours. It was now dark outside, and I was bored out of my mind. I had already gone over the scenario of me beating Ernst to a pulp twice. Now, I was thinking about Manfred and his red Tri Fokker.

'He's just so cool.' I thought to myself. 'I wish I could be like him.'

I lay there staring at the ceiling. I really wanted to get a closer look at that plane.

'Everyone should be asleep by now, right?' I asked myself.

I mustered up the courage to leave my room. I put my clothes back on and opened the door as quietly as possible. I practically tiptoed down the hall and slipped out the door. I walked across the grass and towards where the Fokker was. Once I reached it, I quietly took the tarp off to reveal its glory. I just stood there in awe.

"She's a real beauty, isn't she?" A voice behind me spoke.

I screamed and jumped back.

It was Manfred. He was smiling softly.

"Jeez," I breathed, clutching my chest. "Don't scare me like that! How did you even know I was out here?"

He chuckled.

"I taped your door," he began, revealing a small roll of tape. "I knew you'd come here. You were mesmerized by her earlier and I figured you'd sneak out."

I sighed.

"You're too good, Man," I said. "You should be a detective."

Manfred shook his head.

"This is where I belong," he began, walking over to his aircraft. "In the skies."

He placed a hand on the red coat of paint, almost like he was leaning on it for stability. He also had a pained expression on his face.

"Are you okay?" I asked, trying to see if he had any visible injuries.

"I'm fine," he grumbled through gritted teeth. "Just sore."

I didn't believe that for a second.

"What happened?" I asked again. "Can I help with anythi-!"

"I'M FINE!" He shouted in my face.

I stepped back a little and furrowed my brows.

"What's gotten into you, Manfred?" I questioned.

He looked at me and suddenly the anger was gone. Instead, his eyes were filled with pain.

"I.." he began, breathing heavily. "I'm so sorry."

I walked back towards him and noticed he had a cane. He seemed awfully young to have one.

"May I ask why you have a cane?" I asked cautiously, hoping to not upset him more.

Manfred sighed sadly.

"It was my father's," he began. "He passed it down to me. I use it for stability mostly, for I have bad balance."

I nodded my head.

"But what hurts?" I asked again.

"My knee," he responded. "It's a hereditary thing, and sitting in a cramped cockpit for hours at a time while getting shot at doesn't help it."

He finished that sentence with a laugh.

I thought for a moment before saying anything else.

"Do you enjoy what you do?" I asked. "Do you enjoy killing people?"

He looked at me weird.

"What does that have to do with my leg, Edward?" He replied, furrowing his brows.

"Is it the thrill that keeps you going...or do you truly enjoy taking the lives of others?"

Manfred's face twisted into a frown.

"Why does it matter?" he retorted. "It's my job, and technically yours, too. We should be killing each other right now!"

I stared at him blankly, not really realizing what I had said until moments later.

"I'm sorry for asking those questions," I stammered, realizing I had really upset him. "I wasn't thinking straight and-"

"And I took you under my wing, away from harm, away from death!" He said, voice raising slightly. "I'm doing everything I can, and this is the thanks I get?"

I stepped closer to him, but he stepped back farther.

"I'm sorry, Manfred," I began, trying to coax him towards me. "I didn't mean to upset you and make you feel like I didn't care about what you did for me."

"You know what?" he started. "Forget it! Just leave!"

It felt like my heart shattered. I had only known Manfred for a day and a half, but he was already like a big brother to me. I tried to walk closer to him, but he didn't want anything to do with me at the moment.

"JUST GO AWAY!" He screamed, pointing his pistol at me.

I backed up slowly with my hands up.

"Woah," I breathed, trying to not upset him even more than he already was. "Let's not be rash here."

"Go, before I do something I'll regret." Manfred stammered, still pointing his pistol at me.

I backed up even more before I turned and ran to my room.

I didn't look back.