Without a word, she dropped to the ground. Loo laughed, imagining that the doctor had thought himself quite clever to have nestled in such a forested area. Apparently he hadn’t realized that the same trees that sheltered him from prying eyes could also shelter spying ones.
As she rubbed dirt and bark from the palms of her calloused hands, she thought about the last time she had climbed a tree. It seemed a pastime prone to revelation. The last time she had monkeyed up a tree trunk, the day after her tenth birthday, she had discovered something unusual about herself. This time, she’d uncovered something unusual about her psychologist.
As the she truly began to comprehend what she had just seen, Loo folded her legs and collapsed gracelessly to sit on the grass.
Dr. Brown flew away. He flew away. He flew. Away. No matter how she framed the words in her head, the concept didn’t make any more sense. No wings. No jet pack. No cape wrapped around himself as he bellowed up, up and away. He just…flew away.
The place in Loo’s head that had occupied her thoughts while she was supposed to be in session was still sloshing around the corners of her mind. When he had drawn her back to herself, her surroundings had seemed subtly different, muted colors, an echo to every other syllable; something about time felt a half beat off. The doc, too, had seemed different. Maybe just preoccupied, but just maybe there was a shiny little glint in his eyes that had alerted her subconscious. Enough so that upon leaving, she decided without thought to stick around, to hide, and to watch.
Good catch, brain, she congratulated herself. Home. Home was the place to mull over the possibilities. And food. God, she was suddenly starving. With a hand pressed against her rumbling belly she started towards her car.
Setting a bowl of spaghetti and an entire loaf of garlic bread on the scarred end table, Loo took a moment to appreciate her own couch. When you snuggled deep into the corner it was like being welcomed home.
She tore off a hunk of garlic bread, swirled it through the noodles and sauce, chewing as she tried to list any reason she could think of that Dr. Brown could fly. Vampire. Norse god. Demi-god. Sorcerer. Mutant. Superhero. Oh, maybe a super villain? Maybe freaking leprechauns can fly, who the hell knows.
She closed her eyes as she dipped and chewed and swallowed, the entire loaf of bread gone before she even picked up her fork for the pasta. Her eyes darted back and forth behind her lids, watching a slide show of images from the afternoon.
He’d walked out the back door into the parking lot like any regular human. No furtive glances, no worries at all. Stopped in the middle of the parking lot, adjusted his grip on his bag, looked up to the sky, and poof, he was up in it, lost to sight in seconds.
She was unconsciously rubbing her cheekbones, rhythmically, back and forth. When she realized what she was doing, her eyes popped open and she pulled her hands from her face and tucked them under her thighs.
‘Bony thighs,’ she muttered with a shaky laugh. ‘Stop it. I don’t want or need your help.’ She turned on the television and gave her full attention to polishing off the heaping helping of spaghetti going cold.
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( Hopefully a stand alone story, but is also a direct continuation from http://thesqueakywheelblog.com/2014/03/31/the-bone-brigade/ )