I blink, seeing everything in the darkness. I’m not actually in the cellar, but the tunnel. Which kind of pisses me off because I’ve fucked up the passageway with this hole I dug. And it was me who dug it. I can smell the dirt under my fingernails.
I look down at them and realize they’re a little more claw-like than I remember them being last night. This is when I feel the wings. I can’t see them, and they’re not touching anything but air, but I know they’ve grown.
Sure enough, when I reach around and probe with my fingertips, the two small bumps of bone are much larger now. None of it is covered by skin. Or, at least, not the skin from myback. Maybe something else is covering the bone. A membrane, or something.
I should be thinking about how I’m turning into a literal monster, but the only thing running through my head is the question: How am I going to go out in public withwings?
I lie back in the earth, pondering this.
Maybe I don’t go out in public? Maybe I stay right here in the dirt?
“Syrsee.” I say her name out loud as last night comes back to me. Then I really do get up. I step up out of the hole, realize I’m fully naked—which I wasn’t last night. Even while having sex—and then follow the tunnel back to the house.
When I get inside, I check the bedroom and find Syrsee fast asleep.
She drank me. Quite a bit, too.
But the mystery remains. My little trip to the tunnel, and subsequent imaginary conversation with Paul, has not solved any of my problems.
Which is: What is happening to us?
I want to think about this harder. Kinda… gather up clues and shit. Put them in some kind of order and then systematically come up with possibilities. But I can’t think straight. I probably need to drink, but that craving that is usually there isn’t.
Instead I have a craving for bacon. And dirt.
Which kinda feels OK. It’s a weird combination. But also normal in a “pickles and ice cream” way. Except that’s some cliché pregnancy thing.
I let out a breath, pausing here. Because I’ve gotten all my memories back. After Jane condemned me to an eternal Hell in my pre-third-birth delusion, I remembered everything. And now that I’m thinking about pregnancy cravings, I remember that Jane was always making me go get her Junior Mints.
The moment those two words form in my head I need Junior Mints. Do they even make them still?
I’m not sure, but my new mission in life is to hunt them down and find out.
I grab the truck key off the kitchen counter and walk towards the door, nearly pulling it open before I realize I’m naked, covered in dirt, wings are growing out of my back, and Syrsee should not be left alone.
This stops me.
I mean, the fuckery happening on my back should be what stops me. Or the fact that I haven’t put on pants. But what stops me is the idea that I’m not thinking clearly.
Junior Mints, Ryet? What the hell?
I put the truck key back on the counter and take a breath. I feel like I’m stuck inside a manic episode where all the bright and shiny things need my attention. And by bright and shiny things, I mean food.
Yesterday, it was blood.
Today, it’s food.
What changed?
But I already know what changed. Syrsee drank me and then I drank her back and this explains why she’s craving blood.
Our cravings were passed in the blood exchange.
Weird.
And my response is also weird. Because this is kind of a big deal. If cravings can be passed through blood, what else?
Can we make each other sick by doing this?
