ROCCO'S WINGS

Chapter 1 - River Gang Boys

'Get off!' Rocco twisted away.

'It was a set-up and you didn't even see!'

'So what?' said Rocco lurching left and right. But the more he twisted the louder Snaggletooth laughed, and the tighter he squeezed. He had to get Snaggletooth off, Rocco thought, half gasping at the sight of Snake and Grimly, just a few strides away.

He only needed a second to get airborne. He pummeled his fists and stabbed his elbows. Finally he managed to clip Snaggletooth's chin.

With a yelp, Snaggletooth fell backwards. Rocco felt a sting followed by a dull throb. Plucked feathers always hurt, like getting punched in the face. But it would go away in a minute, he just had to get aloft.

He shot up.

'Coward. Desert rat. Too scared to fight!' Snaggletooth's winded voice called from below.

But he was free! Airborne! Two strong swoops and he had escaped, narrowly, but who cared! When he was roughly the same height as the fig tree, too far for one of them to throw a rock, Rocco turned.

Grimly scowled up.

'You want 'em? Come and get 'em.' Still sitting on the ground, Snaggletooth waved his bouquet of feathers.

Snake, mean eyes staring up, stood behind Snaggletooth. He threw the stick. It curved up, arcing half way before flopping back to the ground.

Rocco snickered. 'Why'd you bother coming back here! No one misses you!'

At fourteen, they were just two years older than him. He'd been happy when they had stopped coming to school. At first they'd only missed a day now and then, but then they'd found an old barge out on the Ebo River. Eventually they started living out there, disappearing for long periods of time and returning at night to steal fish from the villagers' traps.

'You're uglier than the ugliest hunchback,' yelled Snaggletooth.

Rocco cracked his wings. He wasn't afraid of them.

Snake began running in a circle flapping his elbows. 'What am I?' he called.

'Not an ostrich. Wait. Wait,' called Snaggletooth. 'You ain't urvogel either. No, you can't be. Your wings are ugly and blue. Ha! You're a freakin' monster. Whoever heard of a bird with arms!'

The three River Gang boys fell on each other, laughing and pointing up at Rocco.

'You're nothing but a pack of jackals,' called Rocco. One of the old village men had called them that, shouted it across the water late one night when they'd been laughing and carrying on.

'Don't worry, we'll get you next time.' Snaggletooth, feathers in hand, shook his fist.

Swoosh. Rocco's wings cut the early morning calm. He might be a freak, but at least he was up and they were down. He didn't have to take their abuse.

He cleared the fence. At least they couldn't see him anymore, but he needed to get far enough away that he couldn't hear them either. He followed the outer edge of the fence, closing his mouth and forcing his throat into a buzzing sound so he couldn't hear their taunts.

The grass stunk – or what was left of it. Black prickly stubs and patches of charred soil covered the ground. The villagers regularly burned the grass to keep the meat-eaters from stalking them as they passed in and out of the village gates.

Nearing the end of the fence, Rocco banked higher, soaring out over the Ebo River. Stranded fish flopped in the sink holes along the banks. Mosquitoes and flies clung to the murky water, which was little more than knee deep. A little farther on he passed over Snaggletooth's barge, abandoned in a muddy bog. Everything, even the barge, was waiting for the sky water to return.