Wingless

5. The Scream

            I tilted my head in silent disbelief. “What is it that makes you humans so obsessed with the why and the how and the what if of things? There is so much time you waste on the mechanics of life, that barely any of you live it.” Charlie opened his mouth, but I knew nothing but mortal nonsense would come out of it. “In Fismuth, half of our Second Stage is devoted to darkness, silence, and thought. We spend thirty moons simply listening to ourselves breathe. We hear the darkness so we may better understand it. We hear our thoughts so that the day we are faced with true trial, we will know the sound of the one voice that is constant. We hear our heartbeats, the only everlasting sound. When one ends, there will always be another in its place. You understand nothing, yet you try to know everything.” I was breathing heavier at the end of my short speech, moved to passionate words by the greed of a human. “You do not understand the unity that, even now, you are a part of. That is the only immortality.”

            He was quiet. He let out a sigh and leaned his head back on the makeshift chair. “I'm sorry, okay?” A lump in his throat moved as he spoke. I was transfixed. “Don't be mad at me. I'm just really curious about all this. You can understand that, right?” I did not remember what 'mad' meant, so I remained silent. “There are just so many questions. Like what about God?”

            I tilted my head at the name. I tried to remember. “It sounds familiar, but I have never met a being so named.”

            Charlie laughed and closed his eyes, balling up his hands into fists. He pushed his fists into his eyes semi-forcefully before he let out yet another sigh and sat up to look at me.

            “You can stay here for a while. Just a while, until we can get you back up there,” he said, jabbing a finger upwards. I looked to where he was pointing, but if he wanted me to levitate, I would require much time. “Just a while.”

            I did not know how long ‘a while’ was in human time, so I stared at Charlie. We were silent once more.

            I watched Charlie. I tried to decipher him with my eyes instead of my ears. Without questioning myself, I pulled my body closer to his.

            Immediately, I could hear his breathing. It pushed past his lips quietly and then shrunk it back in with an effortless rhythm. Beyond the noise, were his lips. They were shaped as if made for talking; always slightly parted, the bottom noticeably fuller than the top. His nose was straight and firm. It would do nothing to touch his skin, for I could not feel it, but it seemed as if the texture would be pleasant. Most of the feeling I did still have was in the palms and the backs of my hands, which Gaius and I used to communicate.            

            Though I did desire to see his eyes, I did not wish to see color. To lose one’s Prestigious Gift was to become weak.

            “Do you think they believed you?” he asked, pulling me out of my observations and, I assumed, referring to Felix and Dethany.

            I did not know how to respond. Why should they not? I had already told them that I could not lie. I had been as open as anyone could have been under the scrutinizing circumstances.

            Charlie hastened to fill the silence as I imagined most humans would. He urged himself closer to me. I gave him my attention.

            “I didn’t mean that I don’t believe you. Because I do. It’s amazing, I think. You know, where you come from and everything.”