The Magpie's Death

Revelations 2.0

With a heavy groan, Sam trudged past the faded, white picket fence, along the dark grey, paving stone path, and up the wood-stained, handcarved porch steps into the house. Not that he noticed any of those details, too distracted by the jumbled mess filling his mind.

Pulling the stained-glass door shut behind him, he glanced down at himself.

How did I manage to spill so much paint? I shouldn't have agreed to help. I don't know anything about painting.

It was quiet inside. The desk sat empty and the guests were either tucked away in their rooms or out for the day. He had always preferred the silence, away from the annoyance of humanity. Now, after so many weeks of Ellie or Jack or Jade, plus a constant in and out of guests, being alone in the house felt strange.

He tugged at his flannel shirt, freeing it from the waist of his jeans as he hurried up the stairs and down to his room. His next job was a delivery for a new cabin owner. This would definitely make him late, but he couldn't go there covered in wet paint.

Earlier that morning, he woke to find Jack and Squirrel sitting next to each other at the long kitchen island. Ellie was on his friend's lap, picking at her breakfast as the two giggled and laughed. He had no doubt they were talking about him, considering the playful smirks he received from both when he walked in, along with the fact that Squirrel couldn't resist a chance to gossip. He ignored it and said nothing.

Whatever stories Squirrel was telling, he was glad Jack was feeling better and wasn't angry with him anymore. Seeing him smile and hearing his laugh, he realized for the first time how warm and soothing those simple things could be. It should have felt nice, but after last night's revelation, it only made the heaviness in his chest grow and the knot in his stomach rise into his throat. He'd stayed up most of the night running through his decision until he finally passed out from exhaustion. Then he spent the entire morning convincing himself he was right. This was the best option. The only option. But thinking about it only made it worse and he still wasn't ready to confront the choice he finally made.

Since Squirrel was only staying a day and insisted on spending it with Ellie, he took the opportunity to leave early and avoid any lingering tension. He also couldn't look at Jack's face or listen to his voice without wanting to destroy something. At least keeping busy with work might help him release some of his pent up emotion.

It didn't.

Shutting the bedroom door behind him, he rummaged around for some clean clothes and tossed them on the chair in the corner. Carefully unbuttoning, trying to work around the white paint as much as he could, he let the flannel shirt slip down his back. Suddenly, the door handle turned, the door creaked open, and he twisted to look over his shoulder at the intruder.

"Ah, sorry... I'm sorry... I didn't realize..."

Jack stood in the doorway stammering, a stack of towels and linens in his hands and his gaze fixed on Sam's back.

Responding with a sigh, Sam finished removing the shirt, balling it up to cover the paint before placing it on the dresser. "Do you usually walk into people's rooms without knocking?"

"What? No! I thought you were out working, so I was bringing some fresh things..." His face flushed as he spoke. "I can go. I'll go." He started to leave but turned. "Sorry. For interrupting."

As he turned again, Sam stopped him. "It's fine. You're already here."

It wasn't fine. He couldn't do this right now, but he also couldn't make him leave. He was losing his control.

"Yeah..." Jack passed by, absentmindedly placing the stack of laundry on the bed, then looked toward him. "Your tattoo..."

Sam glanced at his bare back in the mirror. Covering most of the skin was a colorful tattoo of a magpie. Two white-tipped, blue and black wings spread across each shoulder, with the black head and body and long blue-green tail stretching down his spine.