Chapter One
~
The Criminal
Orphenn was an orphan. At this time in his life, he began to believe that’s all he would ever be. Ten years in an orphanage taught him that much. He was never even placed in the foster system, as so many had been.
No one wanted him. And he knew why.
Every time he saw his reflection, he said to himself: My eyes.
Orphenn’s eyes were quite remarkable. One was an icy, Siberian Husky blue, and the other was a crimson red. They were mismatched, but not only in color. The pupil in one iris was a cat-like slit, and in the other, there were three small pupils, as if they had split into thirds from the original. Doctors were amazed he could even see. Though his eyes weren’t the only of Orphenn’s “oddities” as Lora called them.
The other orphaned children spread dozens of rumors about him: that he could talk to dogs, that he could become a ghost and possess someone, that he was from another planet, and even that he had hidden horns. Complete bogus, of course.
So Orphenn could bear it no longer-the ridiculous rumors, the taunting children, and the hundreds of parents who gave him nothing but a disgusted grimace or frightful glare before walking away with a more fortunate orphan in their arms. No family would ever adopt him, he knew. He wouldn’t wait and see either, just in case, for he never was a very patient person.
He made the decision, at fifteen, to run away. He couldn’t stay at Kinder Rose. Not that anyone would miss him.
Thus, for two years, going on three, he was homeless, and now he sits in the alley, his hair long, shaggy and tangled, and his face streaked with grease. He turned up the collar on his trench coat, as if to shield his ears from the laughter of the woman in the street.
“Who’s laughing?” She antagonized the seventeen-year-old.
This woman was dressed in enormous heels, short shorts and a tube top. It was also obvious that a bra was missing from her apparently limited wardrobe.
Orphenn ignored her, and reached for his bottle of vodka. He was underage naturally, but he had acquired a taste for it a while back, after getting past its strong burn. He spun off the lid and took a large, satisfying gulp.
“Stupid hobo.” She spat. She walked clumsily, as if she as well was intoxicated, further into the alley, stopping in front of Orphenn and lifting his chin up with a filthy hand. “But you’re a cute hobo. How ‘bout I take you back to my place?”
Strands of her greasy blonde hair fell into Orphenn’s face. “Much better than sleeping in a trash can.”
He doubted that.
He crinkled his nose. “You smell like a dog.” He scowled.
With a girlish grunt, she put her hands on her hips. “And you would know? Looks like most of your little friends ‘round here are pregnant cats.”
Orphenn gave her an intense glare, his red and blue eyes like shards of crystal. “Sure.” He shrugged. “I’ve known a few bitches in my spare time.”
The woman shrieked angrily and slapped him across the face. She spun and stomped away in a huff, twisting her ankle a couple times in the effort.
Orphenn chuckled, and lay back down on the cement with his hands behind his head, and thought about his dream.
It was different from the other ones, which he had almost every night. They were all about angels. Always about angels.
He had a pair of wings himself, which he most conveniently discovered when he fell off the Empire State Building at the annual orphanage field trip. Also quite convenient, was that none of the social workers or other officials happened to look out the window when he fell, nor any of the orphans. All except Sam. Sam was always the observant one. He knew everything about Orphenn. Granted, there wasn’t much to know. Not anymore.
He missed Sam. He was Orphenn’s only friend. He had been adopted years ago, though. Nowadays he’s your friendly neighborhood police officer, patrolling about New York City.
“Orphenn?”
Speak of the Devil.
“Orphenn, is that you?”
Orphenn jolted to his feet and gawked at the squeaky-clean man in uniform standing at the end of the alley. He grew excited, but not before first glaring questionably at the vodka bottle. “Sam?” He said, unsure.
The officer smiled.
“Sam!” Orphenn enthused, as he sped out to the sidewalk to greet his best friend with their secret handshake. Clap right, clap left, double knuckles, snap. “What are you doing down here?”
“What am I doing?” Sam jeered. “What are you doing? What, did you get pissed off and run away? You should be at Kinder Rose! Not on the streets!” Then he noticed the bottle in the younger boy’s tightly curled fingers. “Oh, Orphenn. Don’t tell me you’ve gotten into that again. I thought you quit.”
“I had to run away.” He defended, twisting the cap onto the bottle and setting it away next to a trash can.
“But why?”
“Because you weren’t there for me anymore! I was treated like I was some kind of alien-well I always was, but even more so when you left! There was no one to stand up for me. You’re my only friend, Sam.”
No one to stand up for me anymore. When Orphenn spoke these words, he realized he was just like the rest of them around the garbage fire, and had the sudden urge to vomit.
“I’m so, so sorry I left.” Sam apologized. “And I know I promised I would visit, but-”
“I considered suicide Sam!” Orphenn interrupted, leaving Sam speechless. “Something I believed I would never do!”
“I never thought you would either.” Sam replied after a slight pause. “But I never thought in all my life that you would sleep in a trash can like Sesame Street.”
“I don’t actually sleep in the can! Why does everyone say that?”
“I know you’re capable of so much more, Orphenn. I know it.”
At this, Orphenn could only stare at the older man.
“I’ve seen it.” Sam continued. “You may not look like much, I know that! But Orphenn, you can fly. No one else can say that. Or do you not remember all those times I covered for you while you snuck out in the middle of the night to use your wings?”
“I haven’t forgotten, Sam.”
“You could be saving the world, or something with the powers you have!”
“No, I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not like you, Sam!” His face was a mask of envy. “I’m not the kind of person that can accomplish much more than finding something to eat every day! You’re a hero! You’re saving lives every day!”
“You’re ten times more capable of it than I am!” Sam countered. “You could use your gifts to help the task force! The Coast Guard, Air Force, Firefighters—the damn Forest Rangers for Hell’s sake!”
Orphenn looked down at his weathered boots. “I don’t know…That I could do any of that…”
Before Sam could reply, gunshots sounded out in the street.
Sam was in the street with his gun at the ready in seconds. Orphenn couldn’t see what was happening-a herd of passerby surrounded the scene, blocking everything from his view.
More shots went off.
“Sam!?” Orphenn called.
He heard shouting and clattering as a firearm was knocked to the asphalt.
A tall shirtless man with baggy jeans broke from the crowd, running down the road as fast as he could. Sam sped after him.
“Sam!” Orphenn called again, picking up his feet to gallop after them. They ran for what seemed like hours. They dodged through a playground like an obstacle course, then the man began to slow down, though he persisted until he came to a bridge overlooking the ocean. He began to stroll across it nonchalantly, as if he were on a brisk weekend walk, rather than being pursued by an officer.
“Sir.” Sam cautioned, Orphenn panting beside him. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to come away from the bridge.”
The man gave him a strange smirk.
“Sir. Step off the bridge.” Sam seemed to realize the command came out wrong the moment he said it.
“Oh, crap.” Orphenn muttered.
The man laughed maniacally and hopped onto the bridge’s steel railing. “Whatever you say, officer!” And he fell over the edge.
Sam jerked, as if wanting to go after him, but Orphenn had already pushed him aside, got a running start, spread his wings, and dove after the criminal.
He kept his wings close at his sides, shooting down toward the man like a speeding bullet, until he got close enough to touch him. He grabbed his arms around the man’s waist, snapping his wings out to catch the air. He began to ascend again, but it was difficult. Not only was the man heavy, but he struggled and squirmed like a whining kitten.
“Ugh! Cut it out!” Orphenn yelled, flicking him in the head.
The man continued to struggle, but Orphenn managed to wrangle him to the edge of the cliff where Sam waited for him.
Sam’s eyes widened in awe as Orphenn hovered back to land, his wings beating lightly to keep him a few feet off the ground. He socked the man in the head with a fist as strong as stone to cease his wriggling. He was out cold.
It was then that Orphenn noticed Sam’s stricken stare. He tossed the man to the ground, where he lay unconscious, but still breathing.
“What?” Orphenn held his arms out quizzically as he folded his wings and dropped lightly to his feet in front of Sam, wings suddenly gone as if they had never been outspread. “You’re looking at me like I just kicked a puppy.”
Then Sam smiled. He pulled out a walkie-talkie and spoke into it. “All hands on deck.”
“Huh?” Orphenn raised one eyebrow.
“Aye aye, Captain.” Buzzed the communicator.
“Oh, it’s our code talk. Between my partner and I.” Explained Sam. “He should be here with the cruiser in a few minutes.”
“Ah.” Orphenn stuffed his hands in his trench coat pockets, feeling a bit jealous that his best friend had a new partner.
“I knew you could do it.” Sam said, catching Orphenn off guard.
“What do you mean?” He clicked his tongue. “Oh that? Flying? It was nothing.”
“Was it?” Sam shook his head. “You captured a murderer.”
“Oh…I guess I did.”
“Not only did you save his life, but you prevented him from escaping and striking again if he survived. You saved other lives, too.”
Orphenn blushed, idly scratching the back of his neck.
The cruiser honked its horn behind them.
After stuffing the murderer in the back seat, and watching his only friend drive away with his new partner, he took a deep breath and began to walk back to his alley.
There was still a mess of people when he arrived. Sam had gotten there before him, and was shooing people away from a dead body.
Orphenn was suddenly regretting only punching that criminal once to knock him out. But at the same time he felt incredibly glad that he was lucky enough to be the one to punch him. That’s beside the point. He thought. He’s locked away now, forever. That’s what’s important.
“So what happened?” Orphenn asked after Sam politely asked a nosy woman to leave the premises.
“Apparently the poor guy was having an affair with the murderer’s wife.” Sam answered.
“I feel bad for the wife.” Orphenn sympathized.
The old friends bid farewell, and separated, one with a job to do, the other with dreams to ponder.
Then, through the crowd, there was a still, dark figure on the other side of the street. As the crowd cleared, he saw it more clearly.
Everything seemed to come to Orphenn’s eyes in slow motion, so stricken with astonishment he was. No sound came to his ears. The remaining onlookers slowly left the street, leaving remnant shadow trails on his retinas.
It was a woman, clad head-to-toe in black, her neck draped with chains. Her jeans were torn and she wore a strapped black leather jacket and matching knee-high boots. Her hair was long, reaching the small of her back, sleek, and the color of obsidian. Her bangs were cut straight across, and shiny sunglasses covered her eyes. She was leaning against an odd-looking motorcycle, arms folded and legs crossed at the ankles.
Her face looked so familiar….eerily familiar, like the woman in his dream before had looked. In fact, she had the same face as the woman in his dream.
Orphenn saw the woman slip her shades off her face and squint in his direction.
She had intense, mismatched eyes.