Thanagarian

Chapter 21

The next morning I was awakened by Garth standing next to my bed. He was still in his pajamas, just a pair of flannel pants. He was lucky he didn't have to wear a shirt all the time. "Hey Abi," He asked. "Are you asleep?"

"No Garth." I answered, my eyes still closed. "I'm practicing for when I'm dead."

"Oh, well I made breakfast." I opened my eyes and sat up, propping myself up with my elbow. Bacon was sizzling in a pan and eggs were burning in another. "Uh, Garth?" I said.

"Yeah?" He answered, in the middle of petting Rocket.

"The eggs are burning."

"Ah poop!" He exclaimed.

Breakfast was okay, the bacon was pretty good but the eggs were inedible. On the bright side Rocket got some people food. As I leaned back in my chair with my bare feet on the table Garth opened his big mouth. "So Abi, can we train?"

"Why not."

"Yes! Will you teach me to fly? These wings are heavy!"

"Trust me, I know."

"So will you teach me to fly?"

"Will monkeys climb out of my butt?"

"Theirs only one way to find out!"

"Shut up, Garth." But I couldn't deny the inevitable, this kid had too much energy to stay in the warehouse. "Get dressed." I said. "And for God's sake put on a shirt!"

"They're all girl shirts!"

"I wonder why." I shot back, cradling Rocket.

"This one's not too bad!" He called back, and stepped into a plain black tee shirt. He was right, it wasn't too girly but he would certainly need clothes of his own. "Come on, Kid." I said to Rocket, clipping on her leash. We walked out of the warehouse and I stood on the sidewalk, my green eyes adjusting to the early light. Even at this hour people were bustling around, and moved away like a wave to let the two winged kids through. Garth took off ahead of me, running like crazy with his black hair flying behind him as he ran. I followed at a jog and Rocket was more than happy to match my pace.

Soon I was forced to speed up to keep the crazy kid in my sights and within a few minutes I had to stop. I leaned against a stoplight before a crossing, breathing hard. "I swear to God, Rocket." I said. "The only answer for that kid is a leash." The grey dog sat down and looked up at me, swiping her tongue across her nose. "Good girl." I said, running my hand behind her ears and down her neck to scratch under her collar. She was still a puppy but was almost too big to pick up without looking awkward and she had that gawky, teenager look. I figured we looked the same.

The light turned green and Garth sped off across the cross walk. I groaned, then went to follow. Running was never my strong suit.

That afternoon I was lifting my weight (two empty milk cartoons filled with sand on a broom stick) while Garth read the newspaper on the couch right next to me. "Hey Abi!" He said.

"What?" I answered, my voice holding no strain. I'd lifted that weight so much the paint on the broom stick was worn away and it wasn't much of an exercise anymore, just a habit.

"Look at this!" He exclaimed, then dropped the paper on my face. I let go of the bar in surprise and it fell to my chest.

"Oof! What the heck Garth?"

"Read it! You're in the paper!"

I pulled the bar off my chest and took a deep breath to fill my lungs with air again. Sure enough the paper said: