Ch. 1: Part 2

New England was a good idea, he told himself. Cold, fewer people, trees. He leaned forward in his seat. His wings – his wings, it was still a strange concept – felt cramped if he sat back on them too long. He wished he could stretch them out. It would feel so nice to unfurl them without the restriction of clothing. Maybe he could, after he got someplace safe, take off his coat and his shirt. Just stretch them as far as they could go.
A thought came back to him that had knocked before, but he’d put it aside. Flight. Could he do it? Would it really work? Could these things hold him, carry him through the sky? It seemed impossible, but why else would he have these? There was another thought. Why did he have these? People didn’t just grow wings out of the blue. What had happened to him? He had been thinking of this since he’d recovered the capacity to think, and no answers were making themselves known to him. It was frustrating and kind of scary not being able to go to an authority on the subject. He couldn’t go to the doctor. He couldn’t ask someone – “Hey, do you know anybody who’s, I don’t know, grown wings perhaps?” – or work from personal experience. They don’t teach you these kinds of things in schools. He didn’t know what to do, but to get away from people and try to figure out as much as he could on his own. These kinds of thoughts occupied his brain on the train ride to nowhere.
Leo had done some research on the web and had found the small New England logging town. It was a good place to start he’d thought. A good place to get his bearings, if not make some sort of life. But what kind of life could he salvage? How could he ever tell someone? How could he ever share this with anyone? It was hard to imagine anybody ever accepting anything so weird. Leo sighed and frowned. He felt his humanity slipping away. He was some sort of mutant who could never mix with society.
A dark chuckle escaped his lips. He’d never had much luck with girls. “They’ll be tripping over themselves trying to get a piece of this.” He mumbled sarcastically. He sighed again, feeling sorry for himself, then set his jaw. No, he’d make whatever life he could and try to be happy. He made a promise in his heart that he wouldn’t feel sorry for himself again.
The wheels screeched to a stop on the track, and the train let out a long sigh, as if happy to be done with the chore of chugging over the country side. A cold wind snapped at him as he stepped from the train. Yes, the weather would be much better here, though he still felt he could go without the coat. He took in a deep breath. It was good to be somewhere new. His head felt clearer.
Suddenly, he new exactly where he would start. He waded through the crowd and stepped out onto the road. His legs thanked him for the action. He followed the road for a while. It wasn’t long before it skimmed along the edge of the forest. He headed into the trees without hesitation. As soon as he hit the forest floor, he was sprinting. It was faster than he’d ever run before. He was running to freedom.
He ran for several minutes before coming upon a clearing. He smiled upward as he stepped into the clearing and shrugged off his jacket. He took one quick look around before pulling off his shirt. He exhaled with relief as his wings unfurled. He stretched them as far as they would go. His arms reached up and he stood on the balls of his feet to stretch out his calves. He took a long breath in through his nose and closed his eyes as the scents of mint and pine swirled in his head. A slow grin spread across his face revealing a row of straight white teeth. This was good. It felt good out here. This was a very good idea.