Free Wings of Boden by Erik S Lehman

after another I began to
realize something. I’d been coddled and protected all my life. I’d
become a spoiled princess because of that treatment. Time to face
it. I cupped my hands to fill my palms, splashed the coolness to my
face. A sort of decision washed the youth down my skin, a liquid
cleansing from a fountain. Once more, I cupped my hands, another
splash, while I envisioned my childhood washing into the pool,
dispersing into the million gallon depths of adulthood.
    Water blinked from my lashes over new eyes. I
turned and spread my wings under the fountain, liquid trickled off
as I flittered and fluffed the feathers, taking in the sights of
the back yard. A concrete deck bordered by lush grass and tall
lilac hedges that bloomed powder-purple flowers under the April
sun. Bees buzzed through the sweet air on their daily rounds. Blue
tiles edged the pool and chrome ladders climbed out. At the back of
the yard, a grape arbor covered a wooden bench swing. Bub was
sniffing through the lawn by the hedges. He started to squat, eew,
so I turned around to give him some privacy.
    Mom and Angie were on the poolside lounge
chairs, wings tucked under, sunglasses on as they soaked in the
light-energy. In her powder blue bikini, Mom reached up, pushed her
dark glasses to her forehead and sent me a smile. “Whatcha doin’
over there, Ellie?” she called out.
    “Nothing.”
    “Do you like your new bikini?”
    As my fingertips touched the little pink
heart sewn in the center of my top, I voiced out through the sounds
of the fountain spray, “I love it, Mom. It’s so nice.”
    Angie—lounged to the right of Mom in her
peach-colored bikini—tilted her chin down, pushed her glasses up
with one finger, smiled at me, then pulled her shades back down
over her eyes and settled her head back.
    She just thinks she’s so cool. Well, I guess
she kinda is. So I grinned at my sister.
    Mom grabbed the glass off her towel on the
concrete, and lifted a sip. I jumped forward and swam, pulled
myself up the ladder and out of the water with a splash to the
deck. Crossing the sunbaked concrete, I palmed my hair back, wrung
it out with both hands. The heat of the deck burned underfoot so I
didn’t waste any time lowering down into my lounge chair.
    After slipping my sunglasses on, and gulping
some tea, I settled back on my wings and let my lids slide shut in
the rays. When a light breeze drifted over the moisture on my skin,
a long sigh drained from my lungs. Poolside bliss. The smell of
flowers, chlorine, and the delicious aroma of coconut lotion mixed
in the air. Little happy birds chirped from the hedges. In my sense
envelopment, I smiled in agreement with them.
    The flitter of little wings caught my
attention. Tilting my chin, I looked across the water to notice two
sparrows perched on the statue, ruffling their feathers in the
fountain spray. At that, I grinned, and settled back again, knowing
just how that feels.
    “Mom,” I said, eyes closed, “I think it’s
time everyone stopped calling me Ellie.” It was a stupid idea, I
knew, maybe a little childish, but I had to start somewhere, right.
My eyes opened and I angled my head to view her.
    She rotated on her lounge chair, placed her
feet to the towel spread on the concrete. “But, Ellie, why?” She
looked wounded.
    Time for a talk, I decided, and sat up to
face her.
    On the other side of Mom, Angie was smiling.
She got to her feet, pulled off her glasses and straightened her
bikini top with fingertips. “I need a swim,” she said, and tossed
me a sister grin. Then strode to the pool, bent her knees a tad,
folded her wings and dived in with a splash, sending the sparrows
to flitter away to the lilac hedges. Bub came running across the
yard and launched through the air, landing with a splash in front
of Angie as she squealed and giggled.
    My focus went to Mom as I said, “All my life
everyone has tiptoed around me, coddling me, just to protect me
from some ridiculous nightmares. They