The Unknowables

Chapter 6

The next day I find myself sitting in the worn, faux leather booth in the back of Sam's sandwich shop a full hour before that strange girl said she would be here. An untouched ham and cheese sandwich sits in front of me, while I sip from the cup of luke-warm, black coffee cupped in my hands. I periodically have to catch myself from nodding off and drowning in my mug. I rub the shadows under my eyes and hold back a yawn. A slight head-ache threatens in the back of my head, the light coming from the window hurts my eyes. I feel like I have a hangover, but without the fun night of drinking before it.

The previous night had not been very restful. After my walk I stayed up for most of the night scavenging the internet for any relevant information, but made absolutely no headway. I ended up just staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep with my mind running in circles. I had to do something with myself or go completely bonkers, so I came early to meet the strange girl from the taxi but as expected she hasn't shown up yet. I sigh and tap my fingers with impatience, my back itches from the feathers and I wish for a moment that I didn't have to wear so many layers to hide them. I'm so warm I'm beginning to feel like I'm wearing a parka.

I take a bite from the sandwich and check the time on my phone. It's 11:45. I sigh and lean back in the booth, just to rest my eyes. As I rest the conversations going on around me fade into the background, but the smaller sounds grow louder to replace them. I can hear the shuffling of the cashiers feet as she moves to open the till, I can hear the breath of the fellow two booths down, and I can hear the heart beats of everyone in the shop like base drums. I'm so absorbed by all these sounds that I almost don't notice the whisper of air and the prickle of someones gaze across my skin as someone comes to a stop beside my booth. My head snaps up and I meet the eyes of the strange girl. In the bright daylight she looks to be about seventeen or eighteen years of age.

"I had wondered if you would show up."

Her voice is neutral but her eyes are holding an edge of condescension with one pencil thin eyebrow raised. I narrow my eyes at her. Normally I would have sat quietly and calmly in my chair, but I had gotten no sleep the night before, and a lack of sleep always made me into more then a bit of an angry bear. I stand and look her square in the face.

"Don't give me that crap. You jump into my cab, claiming to know what's happening to me, insult me and then leave without even telling me your name. The only thing you did tell me, was that if I wanted to find you to be here at twelve. I didn't come to have you look down on me just because you know more then I do."

I keep my voice very low and very calm, so that only she can hear me. I don't believe in making a scene, even when I'm upset. I match her glare with one of my own, she's slightly taller then me but I don't back down and instead stand my ground. For a long moment we stare each other down, until suddenly her face splits into a smile.

"You know what? If your not some kind of spy, we may just get along. Maybe even well enough you can meet my friends. Oh, and my name is Shayle, but call me Shay, alright?"

She slips down into the seat opposite me with amazing grace. I stand for a moment longer, stunned that she didn't bite my head off again. She takes the other half of my sandwich and finishes it before I sit back down.

"So what's your name?"

"Wren Pully." She gives a small snort of laughter, nearly chocking on the sandwich.

"What? Is my name funny to you?" I'm getting defensive again, I really should sleep more. She straightens, calm once again but a small smile is still on her face.

"You don't think it's even a little ironic? The fact your named after a bird and.... your 'condition'?"

She's right of course, and the irony had occurred to me. It had ceased to be funny about two days ago.