The Winged [HIATUS]

Chapter Twenty-One

"Why fly? Simple. I'm not happy unless there's some room between me and the ground.”  -Richard Bach

[ C H A P T E R   T W E N T Y – O N E ]

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The five of us continue flying southwest in a tight V-formation. Logan takes the lead, followed by Tempest on the left and me on the right. Talon and Owen are stuck to the back of the ranks.

“This is discrimination!” Owen complains from his spot behind Tempest. He has the diminutive wings of a hawk owl: dark bistre-brown, almost black, peppered with white spots and streaks. “Sexism can go both ways, y’know!”

Quit whining, Logan thinks. You’re the newest members, so we lead and you follow.

‘Newest’ is a relative term, he retorts, switching to the mental link.

Logan scoffs at his insolence. We’re older, so we make the rules. Deal.

We are currently coasting over Missouri – the Show-Me State, the Cave State, the Pennsylvania of the West. Salus Populi Suprema Lex Esto. I breathe in the crisp air and gaze down at the busy cities below, entranced by the sunlight reflecting off of magnificent glass buildings. These are the days that make me glad I left home; I would never get to travel this far under normal circumstances. Every cloud has a silver lining, as they say.

Something gleams in my peripheral vision, capturing my attention. I intentionally lose some altitude so I can see past Tempest’s beating wings. The object springs into focus when I fix my sensitive eyes on it. The Gateway Arch. We must be passing over St. Louis.

“Guys!” I shout aloud, eagerly rejoining my companions. “Look over there! To the left!” It takes everyone a couple of seconds to figure out what I’m referring to, but smiles are eventually shared all around.

“The Gateway to the West!” Tempest squeals, almost forgetting to flap. “I’ve only ever seen it in pictures!”

Talon puffs a clump of hair out of his eyes. “That’s cool, but… what exactly is the Gateway?”

“It’s the tallest man-made monument in the United States,” Logan answers in a bored tone. “Did you grow up under a rock?”

“No…”

Tempest takes charge of the explanation. “It’s a monument to US westward expansion,” she recites. “It cost more than ninety-five million dollars to build in today’s money, which is ridiculous, but it’s really awesome-looking.”

Talon drifts closer to the Arch and squints, trying get a closer look. “It’s a flattened catenary arch,” he mumbles to himself with intense interest. I scrutinize the back of his head for a moment, wondering what “catenary arch” means and how he could know such a technical term. “What?” he asks, sensing my eyes. “I’m a builder; I know these things. I’m not quite as dumb as I look.”

Owen opens his mouth to argue. “Actually-”

“Actually,” Tempest interrupts, “it’s a weighted catenary.” She looks back at Owen and offers an apologetic grin. “Sorry, did I cut you off?”

The kid appears to be a little astonished. “How do you know about catenary arches? I mean, you’re…”

“I’m what? A girl who’s a year younger than you? It’s not that big of a deal; I mean, anyone can read a book, right?”

He narrows his eyes and begins to rattle off trivia questions: “Other names for a catenary arch include…?”

“A funicular in material sciences, also a chainette or alysoid.”