The Starside

 In a flash of light Steve transformed. He was suddenly nine feet tall, wearing a thin robe, his stark white hair now long and flowing behind him, the skin on his hands and forearms now like sparkling gold, and two stark white angel wings behind his back. 

            “What’s happening!” Samantha shouted hysterically.

           “That is not your dad, that’s a lich!” The man who is certainly not named Steve said. A sword materialized in his hand, looking like it was forged from flame, he drew a circle in the air and suddenly a portal opened. Not Steve was the first to leap through, followed by everyone else, they all remained in starside forms. They were in front of Samantha’s house. Not Steve charged forward and kicked the door down, revealing Samantha’s not dad sitting in his lazy boy armchair. 

            The angel stormed inside and raised up his hand, in a blast of holy light Samantha’s not dad went flying across the room, slamming into the wall.

            “What are you doing!” Samantha shouted. Not believing what the angel had said at first. Samantha’s not dad got to his feet with his neck snapped. He should have been dead, but he snapped his head back into place and raised his own hand. Spectral purple energy gathered around the hand firming into an exaggerated approximation of a gun. He fired several times. The angel leapt in front of Samantha, taking the bullets when she would have.

            Samantha was dumbfounded for a while as she watched the team attack the thing that was her dad. But then a fire lit in her chest, filled with an unyielding rage. Samantha painfully transformed into a massive brown bear, and ran forward. She tackled the lich to the floor, the facade it had on literally slipping off of him, revealing bone and shrunken skin beneath. Samantha opened a physic link with him, screaming at him.

            “How could you! How could you do that to Johnny! He had parents who loved him and you stole him and treated him like shit?” Samantha roared into the liches' mind. The lich just stared at Samantha through hooded eyes for a moment before throwing her off with inhuman strength.

            James lifted his hand, necrotic energy swirling around it, and then threw it at the lich. He hit dead center of the liches chest who stumbled back a bit, but then he stood tall as his undead body absorbed the energy.

            “OH COME ON!” James screeched as he realized his mistake. Not Steve launched forward with Luca besides him and they started slashing at the lich who was laughing manically and shooting streaks of purple energy from his hands. Even with the accidental healing there’s only so much one can do against an angel and a millennia old vampire. Samantha got the last hit though. She recovered and shook her head, that rage still coursing through her as she ran forward. Her bear body slammed into the lich, and her maw opened and bit down on his face. Crushing the bone and rotted skin beneath her. The liches body disintegrated beneath Samantha, who transformed back into her kobold self. She was crying. Barely aware of the world around her.

            “Samantha, is there anywhere he would not let you go?” The angel asked, shrinking down to 6 foot but otherwise not changing as he knelt by her.

            “The closet in his room.” Samantha said hollowly. “His gun safe is in there and we’re not allowed to touch it.”

            “Then that’s where it will be.” Steve said, getting up. Samantha wiped away the tears on her snout and stood up, leaning heavily on her staff.

            “What’s in there?” She asked, trying to hide the shaking I her claws.

            “A liches philactory. It’s the item that ties their dead soul to this mortal world. If we don’t destroy it he’ll be back in a few days.” Steve looked at Samantha sadly as she just nodded, not listening. Then Samantha led the way to her not fathers closet. His room was more trash than not. But Samantha didn’t care anymore. Lydia knew that Samantha’s father was terrible but she underestimated just how awful. 

            “Samantha come with me, the rest of you stay here.” Steve instructed as he opened the closet. There it was, a 5 foot tall gun safe. It was locked but Steve just waved his hand and whatever mechanism was inside clicked and the door swung open. There were no guns inside, just a ladder leading down. Into a crudely dug out crawlspace. Steve went down the ladder first, with Samantha scurrying close behind. The crawlspace was maybe three by three feet, and it was just enough that Steve could fit through, but Samantha just had to crouch a little bit.

            The crawlspace ended abruptly, with seemingly nothing at the dark end. Samantha was about to say something but then Steve began to dig. And after a few moments his nails tapped on something metal. He pulled out what looked like an old ww2 ammunition box. Then he carefully opened it and pulled it out.

            That was the philactory. A shining purple ancient perfume bottle. Steve looked enraged at seeing it. And began to reverently cast a spell on it. Samantha just watched him do his work, and she could see the phalocatory pulse with light and fight back. But it was no use. Soon the light went dark, and the angel was able to crush the object. The moment it was destroyed Samantha felt odd. Like her heart was about to stop. 

            The group topside just waited and watched. And all they heard after the phalactory was destroyed was Samantha yelping. “Shit! Ow… Steve, I'm stuck.”

            “Turn into one of your other forms.” Steve replied calmly. There was a sound like an icy wind blowing from the gun safe, and then a few moments later a raccoon scurried out. Then, in a slight blast of cold air and what seemed to be silver shimmering the raccoon transformed. And standing In its place was an eight foot bipedal lizard creature, silver scales and Magenta eyes (with eyelids), holding Samantha’s staff and wearing her clothes.

            “What the…” Samantha said, looking down at her new body. What do I… what am I?” She turned to look at the angel emerging from the gun safe.

            “Right now you are a dragon born. Let us discuss this somewhere less disgusting.” The angel replied, dusting off his robes. It was a little while of Samantha staring at herself in confusion and not really processing before Aloice took Samantha’s claw and pulled her out of the liches room. Samantha took it from there, leading everyone upstairs to her room. She hardly fit now, the horns on her head scraping the ceiling even when ducking slightly.

             She opened the door to her room and curled up on her bed, making her now long thin body as small as possible as she sat there. Her tail curled up around her as well, the spines on the end of it rattling slightly as they clanked against each other.

             “Steve. What happened?” Lydia asked. Aloice satat next to Samantha awkwardly, trying to comfort her.

            “The spell holding Samantha in that kobold form was broken when the phalactary was destroyed.” Steve explained, “she was able to revert to her true, well a truer form.”

            “And what would my true form be?” Samantha asked, glancing up at Steve while Aloice awkwardly patted her back.

            “A dragon. You as an egg were stolen. And your soul was transferred to a homunculus Kobold body. When you were taken to the human realm your body became that of a human. Now with the liches spell gone, you are somewhere in between dragon and Kobold.”

            “Huh.” Samantha said. No excitement crossing her face.

            “It’s possible that your parents are still out there. Your real mother and father. I’m not knowledgeable enough on dragons to know who they could be. But they would likely be silver dragons like you.” Steve said. Samantha picked up a little stuffy off of the bed, her breath caused a small bit of frost to spread across the fur. Samantha quickly brushed it off and put it down.

           “Who are Jonny’s parents?” Samantha asked, fiddling with her claws.

            “I’m not sure, he may just be human. After growing up with a dragon some of your magic could have rubbed off on him. He might be able to enter the magic world some day.” Steve sighed, “we should leave, do you have somewhere to stay?”

           “She does.” Lydia said.

           “You need to grab what you can, the only way to cleanse a liches layer is to destroy it.” Steve said. Samantha just nodded as Lydia opened her magical bag and began gently guiding Samantha around her room to put things in. It was half an hour before they were ready to go. Now they were standing on the front lawn as the house began to burn. Samantha in her human form now had pure white hair. Not only that she was maybe an inch or two taller.

            “It’s time to go.” Steve said, now in a human form. With his index finger the angel traced a golden circle in the air and a portal appeared. Leading to the pool house. Everyone stepped through quietly and it closed behind them.

            “I’ll talk to Johnny.” Samantha said quietly as she shouldered a backpack.

            “Are you sure? What are you going to say to him?” Lydia asked.

           “The truth. I can’t just lie to him.” Samantha shrugged, walking into the house before anyone could say anything.

            “Hey Sammy!” Johnny smiled from the couch. But his smile vanished when he saw everyone walking in with somber faces. “Did something happen?” He asked betting to his feet and walking up to Samantha.

            “Uh yea…” Samantha took a deep breath, “a lot happened. Let’s sit down.” Samantha gently guided Johnny back to the couch, pausing his video game. “I’ve been hiding something from you. I know I’ve been gone a lot and it’s for a reason. I’ve been off adventuring in a magic world.”

            “Uh what?” Johnny smiled nervously, “I’m too old to fall for that Sammy.”

            “I can prove it to you.” Samantha said.

             “Samantha don-“ Lydia began to say but before she could stop her Samantha had transformed into her Dragonborn form. Johnny lurched back from his sister and nearly fell off the couch.

             “I’m a dragon.” Samantha lifted her hand and let a few zaps of electricity go through her claws. “I didn’t want to hide this, but I just can’t anymore.” Samantha transformed back into her human form. But Johnny didn’t relax. “There is more.” Lydia cringed as she said that.

            “Um… our house is gone. I got everything I could. And uh… dad is gone with it, he wasn’t really our dad though which is the good news. He was some kind of undead lich guy who stole us apparently, and uh-“ but before Samantha could continue continue Lydia grabbed her by the arm and yanked her off the couch.

            “Samantha, go sit in the corner.” Lydia growled. Samantha, quite dejected, went and flopped down into the corner under a small table. Lydia squeezed her eyes shut and looked back at Johnny who was now crying. She quietly sat down next to him. “You don’t have to worry about anything right now, you can stay in the pool house.” Johnny wiped his eyes and nodded, scurrying upstairs.

          “Well… this happened sooner than I expected.” Lydia turned around to see her dad Bill standing in the doorway, “you’ve been busy then?”

            “And you’re not human.” Lydia replied.

            “Neither are you, baby.” Bill shrugged.

            “Samantha and her brother might need to stay here a lot longer. They don’t have a house and their dad turned out to be a lich.”

            “Ok, I can see about trying to get guardianship of them, but for the time being they don’t have to worry about anything. They can stay here.” Bill sighed, “I’ll go work on that, it seems like you all have a lot happening here with an angel and a vampire.” Bill then walked out of the house and presumably to his office.

            “Samantha, can you take Aloice home?” Lydia groaned as she watched Aloice about to cry and Samantha, now in her Dragonborn form, still curled up under the table. Samantha wasn’t paying attention, she was muttering to herself, looking like she was almost having a conversation with someone.

            “Samantha!” Lydia shouted.

            “Shh! I’m talking to someone.” Samantha growled back.

            “Who in the world are you talking to?”

            “My mom apparently, she’s talking in my head… and she’s gone… ok. I’ll take Aloice home.” Samantha got to her feet and transformed back to her human form. She looked devistated. But Lydia could see she was really trying to hold it all in. But there were other things going on.

           “I’m going to order pizza.” Lydia groaned, trying to quell the fire in her heart. She had snapped at Samantha when she didn’t mean to. Barbarian rage wasn’t always helpful.

            “Lydia, would you mind maybe sitting outside for a bit?” Steve asked, glancing gently at her. Lydia took the change and stepped outside to cool off by the pool. Leaving just Steve, Luca, and James. “Ok James… would you like to meet your father?”

            “Uh yes!” James exclaimed, “where has he been all this time!”

            “Once i get him here you can ask him.” Steve said. “I’ll be right back.” Steve then walked out the door, leaving James alone. A few minutes passed and then Steve walked back in with another man behind him. The man was blatantly James' father. Just by looking at him you could see the similarities in facial structure. The room filled with the smell of roses and sage as he walked in. He had pale skin, brown eyes, was wearing a wife beater and jeans. Partially covered there was a tattoo on his chest, a famous catholic piece. The man was delicate yet strong, impossibly handsome and pretty.

            “Hello.” The man said as he stood awkwardly in front of James. “My name is Jophiel. I’m your dad.”

            An unthinkable amount of emotions ran through James, his veins were ice, there was fire in his chest, and tears stung on the edges of his eyes. Then all at once it came to a head and James rushed forward, embracing his father. James could just feel it, this man was irrefutably his father. The angel didn’t really know what to do, awkwardly closing his arms around James.

            “Where were you?” James asked, not lessening the hug at all.

            “Heaven couldn’t know about you. But I’ve been watching James. I’ve kept watch over you and your mother. Even if you couldn’t see me I was there.” 

            James was crying like a fire hydrant  now, his attempts to hold it back were completely in vain. But all too soon Jophiel had to go. He pulled away from his son, running a hand through his kids hair gently. “I have to go kiddo, can’t have anyone catching on. I’ll leave you with this.” Jophiel reached into his pocket and pulled out a rosary, handing it to James. “Touch this, call for me, and I’ll know.” James just nodded as he slipped it over his head. Before he left Jophiel pulled a box of lucky strike cigarettes tucked into his waistband, and a zippo lighter from his pocket. He upended it up, only three of them gone. He picked it up, lit it, and took a long dreg before waving to James and walking out the door. 

            James was devistated seeing the man go. But he sucked it up, and went into Lydia’s house to hunt for some liquor.

            Soon Aloice got home. Dropped off by an uncharacteristically silent Samantha. He kept it together as he walked out of the car and through the door into his house. But as soon as he saw his mom he burst into tears and began to blabber about everything. It was the complete truth but his mom was used to these outlandish stories and just took him in her arms and guided him to the couch where he cried until he fell asleep with his head on her lap.

            Samantha made it to the pool house the same time the pizza did, along with Lydia who had brought the stack in and had already opened up a box of meat lovers. Samantha quietly piled some of the pizza onto a plate and walked it up to Johnny's room. She heard nothing but silence behind the door. Even so she knocked and soon the door opened just a crack, revealing Johnny's tear stained face.

            “How are you holding up?” Samantha asked.

            “Hungry.” He said, taking the plate and slamming the door. Samantha just stood there for a bit before returning downstairs to eat. She loaded up on pizza, and after glancing around, changed back into Dragonborn form. The pajamas she was wearing were already way way oversized so they fit her new body. She was trying to get used to it and being in this form felt more comfortable. Lydia was on the couch playing cyberpunk when Samantha put her plate down on the end table and curled up next to her.

            “I fucked up didn’t I.” Samantha said, more as a statement than a question.

            “Yes you did, pretty royally.” Lydia paused her game and put the controller down.

             “I don’t know what else I was supposed to say, I couldn’t just lie to him.”

            “Girl you could have just said that dads gone and things are going to be different, that’s not a lie.”

            “But I’m not telling him things, treating him like I don’t trust him.”

            “This is not a case of trust Samantha, it’s not even a lie of omission. Things are different, that’s all he needs to know for now. And it would be better to not drop the world on him all at once. He’s only 12 Samantha, 12. I get it you love him and you don’t want to lie to him. But you’re not lying, you wouldn’t have been lying if you just told him dad is gone and things are going to be different.” Lydia was as exasperated as an exhausted teenager could be. 

             “I wish I had as easy of a time peopling as you did.” Samantha grumbled, snapping up a slice of pizza.

            “It’s an acquired skill Samantha. I’ve had a lot of practice. You just have to get better at it, and you will. But work at it, ok?”

            “Ok.” Samantha said. At some point Lydia started playing her game again and Samantha drifted off to sleep to the sounds of Cyberpunk. 

            Samantha opened her eyes in an underwater library. Books and pages were floating about as she sat on a bench in this library. She knew it was a dream, it just felt that way. And then she felt a presence next to her. She turned her head to see a woman. Pale skin, icey blue eyes, wearing a long white dress, and blond hair that flowed in the water like slow moving flames.

            “Hello Samantha.” The human woman said, sitting down next to her, “I told you we’d talk in your dreams. And here I am.”

             “Are you my mom?” Samantha asked hesitantly.

            “Yes, I am.” The elegant woman said softly, with a small smile.

             “Can I hold you?”

            “Of course baby.” The woman said, opening her arms. Samantha was stiff at first, feeling as if her bones were made of boards of wood. But as the warmth of her mother spread through her she melted. Full awful sobs that clawed their way out with force. Samantha’s mom just held onto her tightly for a long while. Not letting go until Samantha did, but even so kept an arm on her daughter.

            “Why couldn’t you come to get me?” Samantha asked with a sniff.

            “We couldn’t, there are eyes watching. People that can’t know where you are.” She said sadly, “not a day has gone by where I didn’t think about coming to get you.”

            “I would have risked it to know you mama.”

            “I risked the lich to let you live.”

            “You let the lich take me?” Samantha asked, tensing and leaning away from her mother.

             “Your father and I have enemies, it was either that or you end up dead.” She had a pained expression on her face as she thought about it. “I had to tackle your father when you were taken.”

            “I… I can’t help but feel bitter. I was starved and alone with a kid I could hardly take care of. And when dad- I mean the lich was home he was drinking and throwing things at us. Johnny went through so much… I’m just… I’m feeling a lot of things right now. I don’t know what to do with it all.” Samantha looked down at her hands, shifting between her Dragonborn, kobold, and human form.

            “Sammy you just feel it baby, just feel it.” Mama said. Samantha burst into tears again, holding her mama as her bitter rage and grief poured out of her. Samantha’s mom took the emotional blows of her teenage daughter screaming about missing her and hating her. Each bitter word felt like being struck with a hammer until Samantha’s mom was also crying. Time wore on and on, layers of grief and maturity stripping off of Samantha until she was nothing more than a five year old. 

            “Mama… I don’t hate you.” The five year old Dragonborn version of Samantha said quietly. Like this she had the same shining silver scales and magenta eyes, but she was tiny, only a few feet tall and curled up in her mama's lap.

            “I know.” Mama said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

            “Mama… tell me about you and dad.” Samantha asked quietly.

            “I am Nevanera, a silver dragon. Your fathers name is Al’sorri. He is a copper dragon. Him and I fell in love a long time ago. It was difficult, dragons of different colors being together is difficult. It was even more difficult when I was with egg and told by fate in the stars that I would not be able to raise my child or she would die. We wanted you so badly. Your father wished he could meet you. But it will be some time before he can.” Nevanerra was gently petting the side of Samantha’s head for a while. “You can stay as long as you’d like, but you’ll have to go back at some point ok?”

            “Ok.” Samantha sniffed. Snuggling into her mom.

            Meanwhile in the waking world not long after the giant lizard crashed on the couch Lydia went back into her house. She quietly walked through the cavernous lobby, up some grand stairs, and too her fathers office. She knocked on the door, two taps, and waited.

            “Come in.” Bill said. Lydia entered to find her father leaning on the front of his desk with an almost empty cup of scotch. He motioned over to the larger bottle and the empty cup and Lydia obliged, pouring herself a cup and drinking the bitter liquid.

            “Let’s see it.” Bill said, drinking the rest in one go.

            “See what?” Lydia asked confused. 

            “Your other form, let’s see it.” Bill just looked at her and waited. It was over in a fraction of a second, but then there she was, taller than her dad. The older man stepped forward and gently inspected her hair.

            “Your hair was like this when you were a baby.” He said with a smile, letting it go. “It’s good to see it again.”

            “Now let me see it.” Lydia demanded tiredly. Bill smiled at Lydia’s mini barked order and did as she said. He remained the same height but his skin changed to a purple color, his hair turned stark white, and his ears became pointed.

            “I’m a drow, we are a type of elf.” Bill said.

            “And I suppose mom isn’t human either?”

            “No, she's what’s commonly known as a high elf. It’s all a lot of racist nonsense between all the elves honestly. Your mother is in the elven court working to change things from the inside, and to keep you safe from the politics of it all. There are many people who want to take control of your destiny, to make sure it changes the world in the way they want. It’s the territory that comes with a flexible Destiny like yours.”

            “And what exactly is my Destiny?” Lydia pressed

            “I can’t tell you.” Bill shrugged much to Lydia’s frustration.

            “You have to know how infuriating that is, dad.”

            “I do… but I can’t tell you anything else. I wish I could but I’d be risking too much.” Bill had a rueful expression on his face as Lydia let out a sigh of pent up frustration. She knocked back the rest of her drink before she left her dads office. 

            The next day About two hours before James dragged his hangover back home, he'd gotten a text message from his mother that she'd been tapped for a double-shift on Friday and so would be home tonight by dinnertime. It wasn't a guarantee, the ICU was always changing things up on the nurses, but when James got home to the apartment the front door was unlocked and Catalina was sitting on the ratty couch with a Diet Coke and a paper plate holding what looked to be the remnants of some of the last of the frozen tamales from last Christmas's freezer-cooking binge. 

            Her hair was still sticking up everywhere from the paper cap, she'd pulled off her scrubs shirt but was still wearing the pants with her faded blue camisole. She looked exhausted, like pretty much always, but looking past the dark circles under her eyes and the drooping posture, there was a fundamental happiness there, a silent exaltation that her son would know and recognize. She'd saved someone today. James might or might not hear the story, it depended on her mood and on how the conversation progressed. But it was a familiar look on Catalina, the soul-deep satisfaction of knowing that someone who might be dead was alive because she had done the right thing. She had healed today.

            It was there in the tired smile she offered her only son, in the lightness of her voice despite the exhaustion as she said, "Ey, *mi'jo.* Good to see your face, I was starting to forget it. There's tamales in the oven if you're hungry."

            James walks in, almost as exhausted as his mother after a long day of studying with the remnants of his hangover still there

            He drops his bag by the door and goes to join her on the couch, grabbing his own plate and a can of coke

            "Hey Mamá, thanks for popping those in, I have been wanting to finish those off for weeks now. How was work?"

            Most of the time it's some variety of the same answer, "it was fine" or "long day today" or "it was okay, how was your day mijo?" but he always asks whenever they're home at the same time.

            She laughed, and even that sounded weary, but her tone was easy and pleased as she said, "Long. The day was long. But it was a good day. More wins than losses. Lotta days you can't say that, but today it was true."

            As James settled onto the couch, Catalina reached over and ran her hand back over his hair. Her hands, as always, dry and somewhat wrinkled from dozens of hand-washings every day. Sometimes it seemed like her hands were a sort of preview of old age, knuckles deeply marked and her fingertips crinkled, the lines across the palms deep as knife-slashes from hard work and the constant exposure to harsh soaps and being confined in nitrile gloves. Like she was aging piecemeal, her hands thirty years older than the rest of her.

            But despite the callused fingers and the scent of antibacterial soap that lingered on her skin, the touch itself was gentle, full of love. "And you? How was your day? You got some new friends, I'm glad you're having more fun in life, but I do miss you. Tell me how you're doin', *mi cielito?* I feel like I haven't seen you much."

            James snuggles in, grabbing the quilt from off the side of the couch and getting comfortable. The bone deep exhaustion that he usually wears is lessened just a bit, melting away whenever he's with his mother. 

            "Same old, same old. A lot of studying this time of year. Luckily I've managed to grab a few less shifts at McDonald's to help make up for it. It's been a long couple of weeks."

            James stiffens just a bit when he starts talking about his new friends, his mom knows Lydia from the times she had *just* beat out James in having the high score or being the first in class. She doesn't know about Aloise or Samantha though. 

            "I've been hanging out with Lydia and a few of her friends, we figured it would probably be better for both of us if we helped each other out instead of fighting all the time."

            "That seems like a good approach," she said, the approval there in her tone. "Build each other up instead of trying to climb past one another. Or some hippie sentiment like that." She laughed and settled back deeper into the couch, her Diet Coke in one hand and the other resting on James's upper back. "Did you get that appointment with the school counselor to talk about starting scholarship applications this year? Don't let 'em blow you off about that, starting early is the way to go." She didn't launch (again) into the speech about how education was the only way up and out for them, how James had the potential to do or be anything in this world, so long as he accepted that yes, it was unfair that he'd have to work harder than the rich kids that surrounded them but it was just how life was. They both knew it by heart at this point.

            "Yeah yeah, trust me I know Mamá." James rolled his eyes a little, laughing a bit at the all too familiar words. He sits there for a little while, just eating and watching the television, gathering up the courage to ask his mom about what he's wanted to ask her for weeks, only spurred on by the day before.

            After a little while of chatting about school and college, he finally works up the courage to say, "Hey, can I ask you something? I understand if you're too tired for a serious talk, but there's been something that's been bugging me for a while."

            Catalina had been half sunk in to the television, enjoying the logy feeling of being full of good tamale and the thought that she'd probably get something approaching eight hours' sleep tonight. But at James's question she straightened up out of her comfortable slouch and turned to face him. "Sure, *mi'jo.* What do you want to know?"

            If she had any guesses about what he wanted to ask, she figured it was something about college, scholarships, grants. It did occur to Catalina occasionally that she was pushing her boy too hard, that their relationship was devolving into something closer to academic coach and student rather than parent and child. But he was so goddamned *smart.* He could be a doctor, a surgeon, anything. He could have a better life than this, could have all the things she'd never managed to give him growing up. In her way, the pushing was her trying to make up for all the things he hadn't had as a kid. No PS4, or even PS3. No shiny white tennis shoes with the Nike swoosh that he'd outgrow in a season. None of the things other kids had and used to establish their place in the world. The one thing she had to offer was to give him the opportunities that she hadn't had. A literal gift of love, even if she would never have the words to express it that way.

            James has always been completely oblivious to this side of his mother. He may have high insight, but the one person who makes all his abilities and his walls melt away is his mom.  She may sometimes talk more like a college advisor than what some may think a mother should talk like, but James doesn't know any different. He truly has nothing but love for his mom.

            Which means he doesn't understand how completely out of left field his question would be to her. 

            "What do you know about dad? He's been on my mind a lot recently."

            She shook her head, trying to find a balance between the past and the present and it was harder than it ought to be. She needed to be concentrating on her son right now, not the smell of roses or the sound of a voice like brown velvet. "It was one night. He had to go the next day. Said he'd come back if he could, but he didn't. Don't know why I ever expected different, it shouldn't have surprised me. But for whatever reason it did. Hell, somehow it wouldn't surpise me if he knocked on my front door right this minute, with some story about why he couldn't come back for eighteen years. And the crazy thing is? I might just believe the story. He didn't seem like a liar. No reason I can put my finger on, just...he didn't seem like one."

             Catalina gave a helpless shrug, but laid her hand on her son's knee. "I'm not sure what else there is to tell. Other'n that he named you. At least sort of. When we were talking, between--well. When we were talking, he told me that one of his favorite biblical figures was James the Just. Sometimes called James, brother of Jesus. An early leader of the church, it wasn't super clear whether he was one of the apostles or an early convert. He was martyred, and the Jews rose up in protest after his death. I can't remember what even got us on the topic, but Joseph was a hell of a storyteller, he told it like he was right there, watching it all. When I found out I was pregnant, that stuck with me. When the ultrasound said Boy, James was the name that popped into my head, and I never really considered another."

            James's shoulders relaxed as she talked, he'd treated her well. Of course he did, James had no reason to doubt him, yet for some reason he had. The description felt like it made him more real, like the fever dream at Lydia's damn beach house actually happened.

            "I only asked because i have something important to tell you, something i think you should know"

            Tension shot up his back again as he reaches into his pocket and felt the smooth pearl inside, running his thumb over it over and over to remind himself that it's real.

            "I think, no, I know I met Dad. It wasn't for very long. He said he couldn't stay, but he gave me this. I think you should have it, it suits you."

            James reluctantly pulls his hand out of his pocket, clenched around the pearl like it was his only lifeline in a storm. He didn't want to let it go, it was proof. Actual proof that he had someone out there, looking out for him. Proof he has a father. But didn't she need proof too? Didn't she deserve what he got? The knowledge that he's real? That he exists? He wipes his eyes with his sleeve before they have a chance to let tears out and smiles at her as he gives her the necklace.

            Catalina's shoulders had started to tense during the lead-in, fearing that whatever it was he thought she should know was something awful. That something terrible had happened to her son, something about fathers and--oh, *dulce Jesús,* he'd gotten that Lydia girl pregnant. He'd gotten her pregnant and now he was going to drop out of school and work at McDonald's for the rest of his life and--

            The doom-spiral of speculation cut off when he said the words 'I met Dad.' Her visions of her son living in a two-bedroom apartment in Thousand Oaks with four children and a beer belly dissolved away to nothing and she was gaping at him, so shocked that she couldn't think of a single solitary thing to say.

            Her hand extended when he reached that closed fist toward her, an automatic response that called up the way that he would hand her a pretty pebble he'd found or a 'real gold earring with rubies!' that had been dropped and forgotten in a gutter somewhere, sat lost so long that the brass plating was peeling away. And when the pearl in the gold cage dropped into the cup of her palm, her fingers closed around it with the same reverence with which she'd accepted his toddler treasures.

            The first thing she said, the first thing that came into her head was, "You saw Joseph? Is he...is he all right? Is he safe? Are you--how do you feel?" There were questions clamoring in her mind, clanging like bells, but the only ones that mattered were whether her son was okay, whether his father was.

            James visibly drooped with relief when his mother took the necklace with no questions asked. He leaned back just a little, just enough to see his mom in full as he answered.

            "I'm fine, all I ever wanted was proof that he was real and that he's out there, and I got that. Logically I knew he had to be real, but I needed some kind of proof, you know?"

            And with that, he got much more of a pensive look on his face. He knew what "Joseph" had been up to, but how could he tell his mother? How could he subject her to that? And at the same time, how could he keep that to himself? She deserves to know, doesn't she?

            "As for Dad, well, it turns out he's not just a security guard."

            "I think I understand," she said slowly, "about needing to know that he's real." Not wholly, Catalina had known altogether too much about her own father. (There were reasons she'd never introduced her son to his grandparents.) But she thought she got it, that James had grown up without so much as a name or photo, no stories she was willing to tell, nothing to build an image of a father on.

            Her fingers stayed curled around the necklace, but her other hand reached out for James's. "Tell me about it, *cielito?* How did you two meet? What did you--think of him? Was he kind to you?" Even as that final question left her lips, Catalina realized she didn't actually fear that Joseph had been unkind. It was a certainty that had no right to exist, but there it was.

            James thinks for a minute, he knows his mom deserves the truth but that's so much easier said than done. He's not in the habit of lying to his mom, even by omission, but he also doesn't know how the truth would go down. The one thing that he knows is that if he is to tell the truth, he needs proof.

            "Look, Mamá, I don't want to lie to you, but the whole story will never make sense until you know the truth."

            So he sits back from his mom,  scooches over to the other side of the couch, and transforms.

            It's a bit slow at first, starting with that metallic sheen over his skin, his braids growing longer and more metallic, until it hits his eyes. Suddenly, his eyes become pupilless and golden, his hair fully forms into chains, his wings sprout, and he glows that golden sheen. 

            "Dad is quite literally an angel. That's why he had to leave, that's why he always smelled like roses and seemed just a little too perfect, that's why he couldn't be back. He managed to find me though, we only had a little while, but he's been watching over us. He still loves us Mamá."

 Is this what going crazy feels like?

            Catalina had the strongest urge to rub her eyes, or go find her reading glasses in her nightstand, or do something that would make her eyes stop seeing things that could not possibly be real.

            But at the same time, she wouldn't do that, because she knew it wasn't her eyes that were the problem. Her son had wings. Her son had golden chains instead of hair. Her son was an angel, and so was his father. These things were true, she knew them in a way she could not possibly justify in words, just a certainty in the pit of her stomach that, if you thought about it, had probably been there since the moment that an angel's child took root inside her.

             She should say something, shouldn't she? She should find some kind of words, respond to James, acknowledge what he was telling her and showing her.

            Her mouth opened. Closed again. Opened. Closed.

            Giving up on words for a moment, she reached out the hand that had been holding his and cautiously touched his hair. The gold chains, fine as threads, cool under her human-warm skin. The arch of a wing, the feathers sleek but fever-hot. The skin of his cheek, just as warm and smooth as it had ever been, the golden shine of it didn't change the feel of her boy's flesh.

            Finally she managed words. Maybe not the right ones? Or maybe they were. Either way, they were what she had.

            "I love you." Start with that, the beginning and end of all things. "I believe you." Just as true as the first statement. "I don't understand." Another truth.

            James pulled his mom into a tight hug, tighter than he’d ever hugged her before. Catalina hugged her son back just as deeply and fiercely.