Free Give Me Hope by Zoey Derrick Page A

Enterprises
    Minneapolis, MN

    I shake my head. Elton is a ruthless businessman who will stop at nothing to get what he wants. Right now, what he wants is to save his own ass. Without MSBE, the bulk of the funding for three very large, very expensive condo projects in Minneapolis is gone.  
    His phone call earlier today proves that he’s pissed and will do whatever it takes. But does that include murder? Is it really possible that he is behind his son in all this mess?  
    I shake my head. I don’t want to think about all that right now.
    I put down the phone and look over toward Vivienne lying in the bed, seeming peaceful. I wish I knew whether or not she is resting comfortably.
    I’ve been tuning out her ventilator, but now it catches my attention once again. I look over towards it. It’s an innocent machine, but I have an image of something that looks a little like a cloth accordion lengthening and contracting as it presses air in and pulls it out. The sound is mesmerizing, and before I know it I’m lulled into a trance-like state, dreaming once again.

Twenty-Six
    The air is shifting around me, light and gentle across my overly sensitive skin. I open my eyes to find myself back in the white room, looking through a tall, narrow window at a man with tanned skin, black hair and electric blue eyes.
    On his back are a massive pair of pure-white, feathered wings in full extension. The wingspan alone has to be eight feet, if not more. The right-hand side of his chest and his right shoulder and arm are covered in an intricate black tribal tattoo, similar to the one I saw previously.  
    I stumble backwards as I realize it’s not a window. It’s a full-length mirror, and the winged, tattooed man is me. I watch my reflection try to regain its balance. The weight of the wings on my back finally registers, and I’m briefly knocked around as I try to stabilize.  
    “Easy there, angel. You’re alright.” This beautiful voice coming from behind me can only belong to one person. I feel my knees buckle again. This time, I’m a little more prepared for it and I don’t lose my balance.  
    “What’s happening to me?” I ask, but she doesn’t answer.  
    I flex my shoulders and the wings shift. I try, for curiosity’s sake, to pinpoint the muscles in my back where the wings are. I find them, push them downward, and instantly the wings follow suit. They’ve gone down enough that I can see Vivienne standing behind me. Instinctively I shrug, and the wings come back up, taking her out of my line of sight. She giggles behind me and I smile. Repeating the same motions as before, I lower them again and pull inward, and the wings fold in. Vivienne is looking at me appraisingly for the work I’ve managed to accomplish. I smile at her.  
    Her face lights up and I start to turn toward her, but she stops me by saying, “No, no. Keep facing the mirror. Keep practicing.”
    My heart sinks. I want to hold her, to touch her, but instead I do as she’s asked and turn back toward the mirror. I push the wings back out, marveling at the fluid motion and at the force of air that comes from them.  
    “Can I fly?” I ask her.  
    “Yes, in time.” Her voice is soft, approving, and much closer than before.  
    Then it happens – so fast that I’m not entirely sure what’s happened – but my wings shiver, sending a rapid pulse of pleasure through my body. “Ahh!” I moan. And the sensation comes again. My wings go limp, and through hooded eyes, I see Vivienne standing behind me. She is smiling, happy.  
    She strokes my wing again. I don’t know how much I can hold back and I moan again. She moves away - I feel the air shift in her wake - and I’m lost and empty without her touch. I close my eyes.
    A warm, soft finger trails along my jaw. I lift my chin. Her touch has left a searing desire in its path.  
    “Keep them closed,” she says softly.  
    “But I need to see you,” I say, hoping the need in my voice conveys the