Birdy
I woke up the next morning at four thirty A.m. and rubbed the tiredness out of my eyes. The clothes Kenzie gave me are a bit baggy, but they’re better than what I was wearing. I look over at the dresser and see a stack of clothes and a little note. “m-mm, the hell” is all I can grumble out before I read the note “I got some clothes out of the dryer for you. Sorry if the bra and underwear don’t fit. that’s one of the things we will get after work today. love Kenzie.” I smile at the fact she gave me a fresh set of clothes.
I take off the t-shirt and shorts she gave me and look at myself in the full-body mirror. It’s weird looking at myself with nothing on. I turn around and put the bra on, tightening the straps to fit my chest. It’s gray with a floral pattern with some padding. I slip on the underwear she left me; it’s the same color and pattern. I finish putting on the jeans and the modified black crop top, long in the front and short in the back to accommodate my wings.
When I leave my room, I walk into the kitchen and see Kenzie making breakfast. I can hear the sizzling of bacon and eggs, and the smell of biscuits fills the air. “Oh, you’re awake. I made us some breakfast before we head out to open the bakery. Here’s your plate; there’s milk, apple juice, and orange juice in the fridge.” I take the plate and grab the jug of apple juice out of the fridge and fill a glass with the amber liquid.
When I look up, that’s when I really see what her kitchen looks like: the walls are lined with cabinets, and the counter is lined with spices and jars with different labels ending with the word extract. I guess she makes her own stuff. Kenzie seems really dedicated to her work.
We both sit at the table and start eating. I take a bite out of one of the biscuits, and my heart melts. It’s so warm and sweet I can taste cinnamon and nutmeg, but it’s so different when I put grape jelly on it, and I can tell the jelly is homemade. “You make your own jelly as well?” I know it takes time for jelly to set, and you have to get it just right, but this is incredible. “Well yeah, I make my own stuff; I’m a baker after all.” Her statement shocks me because I have had baked goods before, but the places I have tasted the same, but hers is made by her own hands.
After breakfast, I take our dishes and put them in the dishwasher, and I was shocked to see that hers was one of those dishwashers that you find in a restaurant. She said she had gotten a new one for the bakery and didn’t want to go through the hassle of selling her old one, so she just uses it.
We walk out to her car, and the crisp October air hits my lungs. It’s refreshing, to say the least. Getting in her car is easier this time without my wing hurting. I sit in the middle of the back seat and put my seat belt on. “Does your shirt fit OK? I made sure to cut slits where your wings would go through it.” She sounds a bit concerned. “Yeah, it fits. Thanks for the slits in the shirt. When we go shopping, there are shirts like this but with different slit sizes. Kinda like a bra, the base of a hybrid’s wings is different depending on type and age.” That’s the best I can describe it, but the base of my wings is about four inches.
As we drive to the bakery, the street lamps pass by in a blur. “So what’s the morning checklist you were telling me about during breakfast?” I hope it’s not as long as she described it. “Well, it’s not horribly long, but it’s just running the dishwasher, preheating the ovens, and taking in any of the bags of flour in the back.” It’s not as bad as I thought, but I guess there’s more she’s not telling me.
“That doesn’t sound too bad, and being honest, I’m both excited and a bit scared. Like, what if the employees don’t like me? What if I can’t work because my wings won’t be covered? What if?” Kenzie cuts me off before I can get my next question out. “Eva, it’s going to be OK; everyone will love you. I promise that as for your wings, I do have one avian on staff. She’s the operations manager; her name is Danae, and she is a crow type, so she has some wing nets to keep your feathers from getting in the food.”
We pull into the back parking lot of the bakery, and it’s empty. Walking into the bakery, and it’s warm. Looking closer, I see black wings. “Hey Danae, you came in early? You normally arrive at five twenty.” Kenzie announces across the room to her. “I had some spare time this morning, so I thought, why not? Oh? Who’s that with you?” She points to me, “Oh, this is Eva. I’m helping her get back on her feet.” I give a shy wave to Danae. “H—hi, I’m Eva. Kenzie mentioned that you have wing nets I can use.” Danae has jet black crow wings, and it looks like she has been here for a bit. I can see bits of flour across her wings and her apron with her name stitched on: “Of course, hon, let me get that for you.”
Danae comes back with two mesh wing nets and helps me put them on and tie them to the base of my wings. “Move your wings around, hon. It’s a weird feeling at first, but you should get used to the feeling in a bit.” I move my wings around, and I can tell she was mindful of the wrapping around my wing without asking, “It feels weird, but I can deal with it.” The feeling of the string around the base of my wing sends a shiver down my spine that reaches my core, but I shake that feeling off.
A little while later, when more employees show up, the kitchen is full of life; everyone isn’t yelling or screaming like in the TV shows I used to watch. Kenzie has me washing dishes because I’m not trained to use any of the equipment yet. I’m used to washing dishes, not because my parents made me do them, but because I was in the kitchen the most, just doing the dishes because I found it calming.
During the day, most of the employees help and give me tips on washing different things. Danae helped me wash the huge mixing bowl that’s used to make big batches of bread, cookies, or cake mix sometimes.
From what Danae has told me, everyone working is some kind of hybrid; some are feline types like cats or leopards, and others are canine types. So far, there is a German shepherd, a few bloodhounds, and one wolf. All of them female and with some accommodation like with the wolf when something with a strong sent like garlic or a large amount of vanilla or mint is used she can step outside till the smell goes away.
Kenzie mentioned something about signing me up for taking a safe serve class so I can work with the food in the bakery and not just do dishes all day. She finds it crazy that I like doing dishes, and I can understand that, but I really don’t mind doing dishes. Danae walks over with a few sheet pans and sets them down on the side of the pot sink. “Hey, when you’re done with these pans, can you help me with carrying some boxes into the back room?” I take the pans and set them in the hot water part of the sink. “Sure, we can do it now. I’ll let the pans soak in the hot water for a bit to get the grime off.”
We walk over to a part of the bakery I haven’t seen yet. The walls are lined with shelves of sacks of flour, sugar, to-go boxes, and a bunch of other stuff, but I can’t make out the labels. “Here’s the cart of our shipment of powdered sugar; just hand me the bags, and I’ll put them on the shelf.” I hand her one of the bags, and she extends her crow wings and jumps from the ground, taking off, or, well, hovering. Danae looks around and fly s to a part of the shelf’s and places the bag down we do this for a hour mostly because I’m not used to lifting bags that weigh thirty pounds.
“Thanks for the help, Eva. Kenzie normally helps me, but I wanted to see how much you could lift.” She hovers down, keeping her hand on the extended bar along the shelf. “No problem, Danae, and if you were wondering, I don’t really know how much I can lift while flying.” The most I have ever lifted was just a few pounds when I missed the bus, or I didn’t feel like getting on the cramped bus anyway. I could always hear people whispering, ‘Why does she ride the bus? Can’t she fly?’ or ‘Hybrids think they deserve everything just because they can do more.’ The truth is that, yeah, we can do things better, but only because those things are dangerous and can hurt someone.
Danae and I move and rearrange some things in the back room. “Hey Eva, if you want to know something about Kenzie, it’s that she used to climb the shelves herself, fully knowing how dangerous it is.” Wait what she knew she would get hurt but did it anyway why would she do that to herself “Don’t worry about scolding her about how dumb she is I already did that.” Well, I wouldn’t call her dumb. “At least she is safe, and she has you doing the lifting, I guess.” I softly chuckle we head back into the bakery after moving a few other things
As soon as we step into the main bakery area, I’m hit with an overpowering waft of garlic. I cover my nose from being assaulted with the garlic scent. “W—what’s happening? All I smell is garlic.” Danae grabs a wash rag to help cover my nose. “Oh shit! I’m sorry, dear, we had a huge order of focaccia bread for a church; it completely slipped my mind. Here, let me help you outside.” Danae helps me get out side.
The fresh air hits my lungs the second I take the rag off of my face. I take a deep breath. “Th—thanks. And it’s OK; it slipped your mind. It happens. I’ll ask Kenzie to put in my accommodations that garlic is one of the things that I can’t stand. I’m not allergic or anything its just the smell of it cant stand.” Danae lightly rubs my back, letting me catch my breath. “Don’t worry, hon. I will. The smell of that much garlic will get the best of anyone.” Danae heads back inside, and I lean on the brick wall of the alley. Its weird seeing the alley like this on the other side of life.
Kenzie runs out of the back door and hugs me. I jolt in shock but hug her back “I’m sorry, I should have remembered about the garlic.” I softly rub her back. “H—hey, it’s OK. I’m not hurt or anything; there’s nothing you have to apologize for.” I can feel the sincerity in her voice. I lightly place my hand on top of her head. “You didn’t know Kenzie’s and my dislike for garlic slipped my mind as well.” I reassure her, letting her know that it’s not her fault. “OK, well, we just got the garlic in containers, and we are going to get started on making the dough. Would you like to help us?”
Kenzie helps me get the ingredients for the focaccia bread. We set them on the table next to the industrial mixer. Looking at it gives me an uneasy feeling, but I shake it off for now. “So to start, I already set the oven to four hundred degrees. So first you need to put the bowl that has three-fourths cups of yeast and the bowl that has fifteen cups of warm water into the mixing bowl.” I put both of them in the mixing bowl. The smell of the yeast activating isn’t a smell I’ll get used to. “OK, now that it looks like it’s bubbling, I’ll help you with the flour; it’s thirteen and a half pounds.” It takes both of us to lift it from this angle. It’s hard but manageable. I get the feeling I haven’t felt in a while. I can’t really put a name to it, but this is giving me the same feeling like I was baking with my mother before I had run away. “Great, now that that’s in, put it in the bowl of salt and vegetable oil. Both have three-fourths cups, and the last bit is the honey; that one only has one cup.” I added everything in, and she said to hit the green button and set a timer for eight minutes.
I move my wings back, keeping them out of the way of the mixer. I help Kenzie clean up the table. “Oh, the batch we made is a triple batch, so if you want to try it yourself, you just have to divide everything by two twice. and we are making about two more of the triple batches that the church paid a lot of money for our bread.” Damn well, I guess that’s what being a baker means.
Kenzie decides to close the bakery early so we can get some shopping done. I open my phone to check something, and yep, fuck, my bank account is empty. I guess my parents are standing strong with cutting off any connection with me, but so far, I’m not disowned, so I guess they still want me, but probably as a sob story to cover up why I ran away.
As we drive to the mall, I play with the hem of my hoodie. “Hey, Kenzie, Danae told me that you used to climb the back-room shelves to get things. You know you could have gotten hurt, so why?” I want to try and understand her. “Well, I didn’t have enough money to hire anyone, and getting a ladder wasn’t an option as well, so I chose to do it myself until I could hire people. Danae was the first I hired; she had a fire in her, and I knew she would be great. She works part-time as a boxing coach, and that’s why I let her handle anything that involves heavy lifting; she says it’s a workout either way and doesn’t mind.”
Wow, Danae, as a boxing coach, I would have never guessed, but it does make sense with how she lifted the bag of powdered sugar so easily. I guess with Kenzie wanting me to do deliveries when I get better, I have to train my wing muscles to carry more than my weight and a few pounds. “Do you think when my wing heals you could talk to Danae about training me to lift more?” I want to make my way in the world and earn my own money. “Sure, I’ll talk to her tomorrow, but right now let’s focus on getting you clothes that are comfy and fit.”
We pull into the mall’s parking lot. Kenzie helps me out of the car, and we walk inside. The place is just like I had heard, both humans and hybrids walking around like the rest of the country doesn’t exist. Maine really is a safe state; I just hope that things die down with the discrimination between hybrids and humans.
The first shop we go into has flight jackets. Some are flashy with bright colors and hoods. Some of them have hoods, which are useless when flying because the hood will just fly back because of the speed and the wind during flight. Others are just the base design, plain brown or black with puffy lining and slits for wings, along with enough room to put a flight certification patch. It’s not just a normal patch with your name, flight code, and the school you learned to fly.
I run my hand through the racks of jackets, and I find a jacket base that just feels right; it’s not too rough or soft. I pick it off the rack and hold it for Kenzie to see. “This one the leather feels smooth and rough; can we get it?” I slightly drop my voice when I ask if we can get the jacket; it’s a simple base, no slits or puffy material on the neck or sleeves. There are pre-made jackets, but I have a kind of base where the nerves of my wings connect to my core. I’m not proud to say it, but it’s more common than people think. I hope Kenzie says yes.
“Sure, you can get it; I don’t mind paying, and it looks like it has to be fitted. Here’s the company card. I’ll call my bank and tell them the jacket is a business expense.” She hands me a white debit card with the name bakery on it I’m shocked she would trust me with a literal debit card. “W—what are you trusting me with the company card?” I ask, clearly taken aback. “Well fittings take a while, so I thought, why not give the card to you while I get some shopping? You don’t mind, right?” I shake my head. “Not at all. I’ll text you when the fitting and everything is done.”
One of the seamstresses leads me to a room with a fridge and a stool. Things like this take a while with measuring my human portion and my owl portion to get the measurements just right. “Before we get started, do you have any allergies to types of fabric or cotton? I see you chose our Carhartt model. Are you going to be doing a lot of flying?” She asks; she’s an old woman in her sixties who clearly had her fair share of avian hybrids, which is comforting knowing I’ll be in good hands. “Nothing like that, but the base of my wings is hypersensitive; the nerves hit down here.” I make a motion to my core, hoping she understands. “Ah, I see. I have worked on all types of hybrids, so no need to feel embarrassed or ashamed. It’s all normal to me; when you’re comfortable, you can take your shirt off. I’ll leave the room and leave some binder tape; the fabric slides across the tape more easily.”
She leaves the room; I sit on the bench and take a water bottle out of the mini fridge. I take my shirt and bra off, letting both fall to the floor, and start putting the binder tape on. Oddly, it’s comfy. I might ask where to get some like this. I pop my head from the curtain of the fitting room. “I’m ready.” I hope this doesn’t take too long. “Can you fully extend your wings, please?” I fully extend my wings; it’s about sixteen feet from tip to tip. She puts a small clip on a feather on one side and the other, then she gently measures the base of my wings. She must be really good. I didn’t feel her hands or the tape measure.
A few hours pass by, and Kenzie came back with some food and soda from the food court. The whole time getting fitted, that old lady was really nice and asked if my wing felt uncomfortable when slightly moving it due to it being sprained and so the jacket doesn’t press too hard at a different angle. We are sitting in the lobby when the lady comes out with my new flight jacket; it’s beautiful; there’s purple padding on the neck. hand, and waist parts the lady hands me the jacket, and I hand her the card, but she declines.
“You don’t have to pay darling when you’re my age, you know, when your working days are over. Today was the day I had planned to retire, so I decided to come in for one more day, and when I met you, I had a feeling you would be special. The jacket is free of charge; it’s my last piece of work, and I put everything I learned into it, so please take it.” I tear up, and I know I have to take it, but it’s her last piece of work.
After a few tears and hugging, we leave the store and go to a restaurant and bakery store. The weird part is that you don’t actually leave with anything, but you have everything on a list and hand it to a cashier. And have everything on the list shipped to you. Walking in here is nice; it’s warm with the humming of the vents above. There are pallets of the items on display. Kenzie and I pass the restaurant section. And head into the bakery section she pulls out a shopping list its shorter then I thought I guess she doesn’t make as many shopping runs as I thought.
“We need one pallet of baking flour, sugar, vanilla extract, and some chocolate chips. We also need to get some repair parts for the walk-in fridge; it’s been acting up lately.”
Wait, what? They sell pallets of chocolate chips here? That’s like so much chocolate. I look at her with a confused look. “Y— you use that much chocolate? How can you use so much that you need a pallet of it?” It shocked me to know how much she uses; she gives off a gentle laugh at my question. “Don’t worry, Birdy, I only go through that much in six months, and if business is slow, I can make it last a year.” B—birdy She gave me a pet name, not that it’s insulting, but I slightly blush when she says it. There are a fair number of slurs that I have heard, but when she said Birdy, it didn’t feel like an insult, and to be honest, I kind of like that name, Birdy.