Metal Birds

Chapter 2: The Evening

London, England, August 1934

The kitchen was warm, as usual. It was most likely the warmest place in the whole cathedral. Arthur stepped in, tucking his wings to his back. Two nuns were already in the kitchens; and he felt a slight pang of guilt that he hadn't attempted to arrive quicker. But he shook it off quickly as he recalled what Joshua had said to him.

"Good afternoon Josie, good afternoon Emelia."
"Good afternoon!"
"Good afternoon."

He smiled slightly as he stepped out the back door of the kitchen to retrieve the meat for that night's meal. He hauled in the recently delivered meats from the butcher's -pork, it appeared- and plopped them on the center counter before retreating to the sink to wash his hands. If he didn't, he knew one of the girls would find some way to scold him of it.

"How should I cut this?" He called blatantly over his shoulder, grabbing a knife from the block.
"Dice it please!" Emelia hummed from where she was chopping vegetables on the counter behind him. "We're having stew tonight."

He didn't respond as he got to work, quickly chopping the meat with practice. He'd had practice in ways he'd rather not mention. His times on ships and fighting were over, he told himself; and kept cutting. After a moment, Josie came over and began shoveling the cubes into the large pot on the stove; watching it sizzle as she stirred every once and awhile.

"Are we serving for the children again tonight?" He hummed, remarking; "This is quite a lot."
"Yes, every Thursday." Josie replied; and Emelia hummed in affirmation.
"Ah." He nodded, mostly to himself as he began helping to get the meat in the pot. "I heard from Joshua that they're starting to sew and knit in order to help all the folks that have been losing their jobs lately." He said the last word with hesitance, shifting his wings together slightly.
"Sadly so." Emelia hummed, beginning to make her way over with the carrots and potatoes. "It really is a shame what's been happening. I honestly find it a bit scary."
"The Lord is on our side." Josie stated surely, almost absentmindedly as she stirred. She was an older nun. Even so, the statement made Arthur smile.
"Rightly so."

"-in fact!" Emelia gasped slightly, glancing back. "I need your help. We need to hang a sign over the eaves."
"What's the sign for?" He questioned, turning to begin pulling out flour for biscuits.
"A sewing group. To recover old clothes."
"Alright. If you leave it outside my room I'll be sure to put it up these evening or tomorrow morning."
"Whenever you can is just fine." Emelia assured. "It's supposed to be next week anyway."

Arthur paused slightly as he pushed a rather large bowl onto the counter.

"What will I be doing then?" He questioned.
"You could help the priest. Or you could dust high up." Josie stated again tiredly. "The dust always ends up all over the pews throughout the week."
"When is the group then?"
Emelia considered that. "Every other day, in the main hall."
"Oh."

"Is something the matter?" Josie finally glanced over, staring at them both from behind her half moon glasses. Arthur glanced down slightly as Emelia began whisking together the dough.
"No ma'am. It's just... I'd rather not be seen is all."
"Hm." She raised her eyebrows and turned away. "You do know that you can't just hide here forever Arthur. Even when I was young you barely managed."

"I know." He sighed lightly, shifting to gather the eggs and milk. "It's my wings is all. I understand they're just the way they are. And I'm not an angel either. But that is what most of the people here thought I was when I first arrived. An angel without white wings. An oddity. Who's to say townsfolk won't find it odd?"
"You will have to leave eventually though. I don't trust what's happening on the mainland right now. I'm sure you will be needed somewhere other than here."