Page 70 of Ruby
“Mom, I’m going to the dance,” I said. “My friend’s waiting.”
“You’re not going,” she replied calmly. “Why waste time with children when someone important is here to meet you?”
The way she looked at me made it clear this wasn’t a suggestion.
At dinner she told me to pour wine, even though I wasn’t allowed to drink. The man kept staring. Afterward, she said she needed to step out and told me to “be polite.” In the hallway, she squeezed my arm hard enough to hurt and whispered that this man could help my career… but only if I made him happy. If I embarrassed her, she said, I would regret it.
I remember standing there, thirteen years old, trying to understand how a school dance had turned into a test.
That night I learned that my body was currency. And I was expected to pay.
Out of all the auditions I booked, I got two roles, none of which were the leads. I was happy with it, but my mother was convinced I was doing something wrong and I was punished by her words, armed with vitriol and hatred.
Years passed; I was no longer a girl and my desperation increased. I would kiss anyone who gave me the faintest bit of attention but dropped them when they didn’t have a juicy enough role for me.
I didn’t care; I was vicious in kicking anyone who weighed me down, just like my mother had taught me, but she seemed to hate me more with every passing day. When I would try to leave,she would call me ungrateful and say she should have left me back in Russia to rot like the scum I was.
When I finally decided I’d had enough, it was too late.
By the time I’m done with my tale, I feel tears prickling at my eyes and threatening to fall out. I’m sitting on Szhe’ka’s legs and all of his hands are working through my hair. He stops and wraps his hands around me, large body cradling me protectively, holding me close as a song bubbles from his chest.
“Not understand all of story. But did not earn, no matter what you think,” he assures me and for the first time, I believe him.
Somehow, as I retold this, I was able to think of it with far more empathy for the younger me. I was fighting for my freedom, not accounting for the evil that humans were and expecting that my mother would protect me.
It ruined me, letting me spend the rest of my life searching for someone who didn’t just want me for my beauty.
I did not think I would find that kind of connection with someone whose language differs so greatly from mine, but I have and I intend to bury the past and leave it there. As deadly as this place is, here with Szhe’ka, my heart is not under siege and I have a choice. I finally have a choice.
“I know,” I warble back to him, embracing him as well. My mouth hurts from all the talking and my head is in a rush so I ask Szhe’ka to tell me about his own mother and if he remembers anything about her.
He sings, his arms still wrapped around me. “Not many memory, separated as fledgeling.”
The vibration of his chest when he sings against my body elicits the feelings inside me that I have been trying so long to hide and I swallow hard. I don’t know if I should trust it this time or if I should even have these kinds of carnal feelings and thoughts about Szhe’ka. I mean, how would we even work?
Another rumble from his chest brings me back down and I realize that he is telling me things he remembers about his mother.
“I recall yellow, like me. Most beautiful song,” he chuckles at the memory and keeps on.
He tells me of how she used to tuck him in her arms when she would fly off cliffs and through waterfalls and how he always managed to sleep mid flight, even when hatchlings his age hadn’t started flying with their parents.
“Beautiful, Szhe’ka. Remember her song?” I ask him, feeling guilty at the fact that I’m enjoying his singing so much.
I expect him to say something about how we should be quiet because it is already night but he doesn’t seem to care about that or anything else but me. I don’t have to look up at him to feel his gaze on me. Warm but making me shiver.
The space between us feels too much, too vast, all of a sudden. I want to be closer to him, but I don’t know how to ask.
What if he doesn’t see me as more than something to care for and protect? I don’t know how his body works. I don’t know anything, but his voice manages to pull the cloak of worry off of me, filling me with the warmth of his song.
I know now that this is enough for me, his arms holding me tight against him and his beautiful song serenading me. Life is about making sacrifices, and I would gladly give up my wants and needs to have more moments like this with him. He is the best part of my new life, and we can figure things out if that time comes.
As I drift off, my mind plays out different versions of kissing him, each one more ridiculous than the next before I rein my thoughts back in. Some things in life, it’s better to just find out how they’ll go instead of coming up with endless branching scenarios. A smile curves my lips as I drift off to sleep.
29
Szhe’ka
The feeling of flight has yet to return to me, yet I feel as if I’m soaring among the clouds, singing of eternal happiness. I was taught the wonders of mating by the many boasting stories, but they cannot compare to this.
