Dark Wings

Dark Wings Chapter Four

Dark Wings

4

He had that pensive look again, as if he was trying his hardest to comprehend what I just said: breaking down the short sentence into its essential parts but still coming out empty handed with understanding. Sometimes the way I would normally look whenever I come across a passage in a Russian novel I couldn’t fully grasp the meaning of that I had to read the same line many times to satisfy that thirst for a Eureka moment.

But I was afraid. Oh yes, scared-shit as hell because moments of enlightenment had never been so easy to come by. And when gaps littered understanding, the strangest and scariest thoughts jump in to fill the holes.

I’m not Darrel. Simple. Uncomplicated. But looking at his wide, infinite, blue eyes, I might as well have spoken in an alien language. Miscommunication could very much lead into something bad…or worse.

“Uhmm…” I didn’t know how to proceed. I haven’t read any book on how to talk to mistaken-crazy-murderers.  I really wish I had crunched more psychological thrillers and suspense instead of sappy romances and horror. If only I had foreseen this coming…If only—

“You’re lying,” he finally said in a super low voice. “You’re lying just to punish me, don’t you?”

I was at a loss for words. Lying? Why would I lie? How was I going to convince someone who clearly had no useful sense of understanding? He had a twisted mind, I couldn’t just magically make it untwisted or something.

The people looked to be as engrossed as my best friend when watching a heated football game to try to tackle the wolf and get this crazy situation over with. Oh, and let’s not forget about the gun carelessly pointed at my chest. As if his mere presence kneeling before me wasn’t enough intimidation to make me pee my pants.

I took a carefully measured breath then answered. “I’m really sorry, but—“

“No.” His face, tear-stained and pitiful, hardened considerably. “Stop it.” Slowly, he rose to his feet and stared me down. “Saying you’re not Darrel repeatedly won’t make your lie a truth so just drop the act.”

I bit my tongue and looked away, suddenly exhausted and totally defeated. Maybe it was an error in judgment to say the truth. I wasn’t whoever this Darrel was and the idea of me lying to him and then him finding out about it was terrifying. But what if… what if I…

“Darrel,” the man two seats behind me on the other side declared. I craned my neck, my heart thudding hard. He swallowed nervously. I had a feeling, a foreboding, that whatever he had in mind to accomplish would hit and hurt me so bad. The man pointed an accusing finger at me and blurted a big, fat, boldfaced lie. “Darrel…he’s Darrel alright.”

“No!” I shouted hurriedly, the thumping of my heart doubling in intensity. "I'm not!"

The wolf smiled at the man, strode towards him, and then punched him straight in the face so hard the shattering of his nose reverberated inside the bus.

“I knew that Mr. Smart Guy.” He crouched low and smiled some more it was sickening. “And don’t you EVER point your filthy finger at Darrel ever again!”

The man covered his bloodied face with his hands, moaning his assent.

The wolf turned back to me, still smiling with his bared teeth, and wiped his crimson knuckles on my left cheek. “Oh Darrel, the things I’d do for you.”