K. R. Treadway
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Sunglasses 10: Train, Pain, and Automobile
🕑 Added 2024-09-29 15:24:20 +0000 UTC
“Sure…” I wasn’t sure, not really, not about what Mel was trying to tell me. “I know that shifters turn into different animals, obviously. And about the, uh, variations. With the other stuff.”
“The other stuff?” Mel said doubtfully.
Come on, Cal, what is it called? I resisted the urge to rapidly tap my forehead. “The hands and eyes and things like that? Um…partial shifting?”
“Yes. Right.” Mel grabbed the end of my sentence like it was a rescue rope. “That’s what I’m referring to. When my eyes shift, they…” Her shoulders bunched and her throat worked.
“What?”
“They’re weird,” she blurted. “My eyes get weird.” Mel let out a breath like she’d just heaved herself onto a mountaintop after a tough climb.
From my reclined position, I squinted up at her. “Weird?” I repeated slowly. “Because they sometimes look like your animal half?”
Mel’s shook her head, making her ponytail brush her shirt. “No…I mean, yes. Sort of. Ugh, how to explain…” She trailed off, shaking her head and muttering like she was arguing with herself.
I could only see the curve of one cheek and the sweep of her jaw—still graceful despite being clinched. Show me, I wanted to beg. Please let me see. Every variation. Every color. By now, my desire went way deeper than normal curiosity, like it was tied into the sensation I’d been feeling for days. Just thinking about it stirred it to life, sending whispers across my arms and raising goosebumps.
“My family…” Mel began haltingly. I watched her knuckles twitch on the wheel like she wanted to drum her fingers. “We’re…distinct.”
When I didn't answer, she glanced over. Her lips thinned at my obvious puzzlement. I couldn't help it! I still didn't know what the hell we were talking about.
“Distinct traits,” she tried to explain. “An-Ancestral traits.” Her tone frayed, revealing an anxiety so raw that my nerves began to twitch. “Ah goddess…forget it.”
Ancestral traits? I shifted partially to my side on the lowered seat, facing her. “Do you mean, like how some people have a second toe that’s longer than their big toe?”
She half-turned in bewilderment. “What?”
“It’s called ‘Morton’s Toe.’ ” I grimaced. “I…actually have that. Technically. My second toe is only a little longer, but it runs in the family. Is that going to bother you?” Heat crept up my neck. “Not that you’re going to see my bare feet anytime—”
Mel’s abrupt laugh made me startle. It sounded more stricken than funny. “No…no, Cal. I’m sure your toes are fine. I’m talking about…fuck, about other stuff. Bigger stuff.”
I noticed a sheen of sweat along her forehead, and knew it had nothing to do with the temperature. “Maybe you could give me an example?” I suggested gently. “Just, um, a single thing.”
She sighed. “Like I said, my eyes. They change really easily. Almost all the time. Not much else does, except for—well, never mind. But our eyes…” Mel ran a hand through her hair, pushing back escaped strands, but the effort to restore order only freed another lush tress from the overwhelmed elastic at the base of her ponytail. “My primal eyes look freaky.”
I blinked. “But…I don’t get that,” I confessed, feeling thick-headed. “They’re your natural eyes. How could that be freaky?”
Her mouth tightened. “Natural or not, you wouldn’t like them.”
My confusion was near total. I’d seen tons of pictures in my earlier searching, and I knew shifter eyes were all but worshipped by humanity, including by other shifters. The examples I had browsed through had been luminous, beautiful, and—since they appeared during deep emotion—inherently soulful. It was as if Mel was warning me I wouldn’t enjoy a particular kind of sunset!
“Mel…would you be willing to give me a chance?” I asked at last. “To let me decide what I like?” I waited. I would wait as long as I had to.
It took more than a minute before Mel shifted uneasily. “I can…maybe I can think about it. But that's all. I can’t promise anything.”
“Okay.” That was fair. Truthfully, I was grateful she hadn't shut the idea down completely.
“You should try to rest.”
I nodded, then realized she couldn’t see it. “Wake me if you need anything,” I said.
Settling back against the seat, I stared up into the gloom. As my eyes slipped shut on their own, I realized I really was tired, maybe even exhausted. Like a battery that had been drained more than usual.
My thoughts drifted back to my earlier encounter with that feathered-hair jerk. Ángel. Everyone in his crew had been wearing sunglasses, a fact that felt significant. Did that mean they were all related, part of the same extended family? Ángel’s interest had seemed more…possessive, but maybe I’d misread it.
I yawned and my thoughts began to fuzz at the edges. Either way, it wasn’t the right time to ask about Ángel. Mel revealing pieces of herself to me still felt new, and I was grateful for every one. That gratitude settled around me like an extra jacket, keeping me comfortable all the way down the exit ramp to sleep.
The motion of the car pulled me into strange sideways dreams.
First I felt like I was tumbling in open space, surrounded by cold mist and wind. I spun and fell, but I wasn't afraid. I was going home. Far below me, I spied the six cylinders of the Quad A, laid out like a model. And less than a hundred yards away was the brown peaked roof of Grams’ single-story ranch house. Relief flooded through me to see it again. I hated that the Quad A had torn it down after they bought it.
The dream shifted, and I was back inside, surrounded by walls lined with bric-a-brac and the dried sweet scent of potpourri. But there was no time to take comfort in my childhood home. I had to get everything ready before Mel came over for our date. I’d even put on sunglasses so she wouldn’t feel strange, but they were too dark for me to see properly.
A dull headache began to pulse behind my eyes as Terry started banging the silverware drawer open and closed. I wished Grams was here to help him set the table…but that wasn’t possible. Hopefully, Terry wouldn't mess it up too bad. I was busy on a step stool, fumbling for the Dallas plates on the wall. The dark aviators made me terrified I was going to drop one, but I wanted to use them for dinner. Just as I was about to yell at Terry for still banging the drawers, Mel called my name from the open doorway. Shit! She was here early.
I started awake.
“Sorry,” Mel said. “I didn’t mean to make you jump.”
The banging silverware drawer was still banging. And clacking. And…dinging? I blinked sleep from my eyes. Above me, the roof of the roadster was being lit by alternating red lights while the dings sounded a steady warning. We were at…a railroad crossing? I realized the clacking noise was a train.
Struggling, I managed to sit up.
Mel was sideways on her seat, facing me with one elbow resting on the wheel. There was a sense of barely restrained energy in her unnaturally stiff pose.
“Where are we?” My voice was so creaky I felt a flash of embarrassment.
“Nebraska, near Holdrege.”
I blinked owlishly at the flashing red lights and the slow moving train cars, an endless parade of dark cylinders plastered with inscrutable company acronyms and graffiti. Fumbling for the seat lever, I got myself fully upright and rubbed my eyes. “What time is it?”
“After midnight.”
“Oh. Okay…what’s going on? Is everything all right?”
“I’m going to take off my glasses.”
Adrenalin dumped into my veins, sending my breathing into overdrive. “What? Wait, really?” Was I still dreaming? “Now?” my heartbeat felt erratic, the opposite of the rhythmic noise outside.
“I’ve been thinking about it while you slept.” Her measured words were backed by the bump and thump of metal wheels. “What you said before about deserving a chance. You’re right. But…I want you to see my human eyes first.”
“Okay,” I said. “That makes sense.” I wasn’t sure if it did, but I was still clearing dream tatters out of my head.
“And we have to do it now,” she continued, “because if I wait any longer I’ll talk myself out of it. This train is like, I don’t know, a sign.”
“Sure, okay.” I exhaled loudly and ran my hands over my face. “All right…I’m ready.” I was more than ready. “Let’s do it.” We stared at each other as I waited expectantly. Nothing happened. Outside, the train continued to roll. “Mel—”
“I’m making sure I’m calm enough,” she said. “I need you to see my regular eyes. I don’t want…”
The train wheels timed her silence. Clack-clack…clack-clack…clack-clack.
“Don’t want what?” I asked. Clarity was coming back fast, spurred by the pain in her voice.
“I don’t want you to think I’m a monster,” she murmured. Her features seemed to flicker in the alternating red lights.
My brain was too fogged to be careful, so I just told the truth. “I won’t think you’re a monster. It doesn't matter what your eyes look like.”
Mel kept watching me, still and alert. Her glasses reflected a distorted view of the crossing train. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
She gave a nod. That sharp decisive chin tip I’d seen before. She reached up and snapped on the dome light. Warm yellow tones vanquished the red flicker.
Mel lowered her hand to her sunglasses in that characteristically precise way she had, but so gradually it was like her body was going in slow-motion. She pinched one metal arm close to the lens. Clack-clack…clack-clack…clack-clack. With a quick flick of her wrist, the aviators were off.
Her head tilted to track the glasses down to her lap. I heard two metal ticks over the train noise, the sound of her folding its arms closed. She waited one more second, and then met my gaze for the first time.
Mel Wade’s eyes were brown. A deep layered color like the polished surface of antique wood, lightening into reddish-brown at the edges.
Unable to play it cool, I let loose an entranced sigh. “I knew they would be pretty.”
Those pretty brown eyes widened at my words. Her cheeks warmed into a faint blush and her breath quickened. Then, between one blink and the next, there was a stunning transformation. I saw the briefest glimpse of something otherworldly before her head jerked away.
She groped for the dome light, but I intercepted her hand with both of mine. I twined one set of fingers into hers and laid the others along her wrist. “Mel,” I said, desperate to soothe her, to convince her. “Mel, it’s okay. I swear it’s okay. You can let me see.” My voice dropped to something between a prayer and a promise. “Please show me.”
Mel’s shoulders rose…and slumped. All resistance went out of her arm and she let my palms cushion her hand as it dropped. We sat there, our breaths audible even over the endless clatter of the train.
Finally, her face tipped up. It was just like my daydream: dark lashes against perfect cheeks. Then, slowly, they raised as her eyes opened. She looked at me.
My breath caught, and she flinched, shutting her lids. “No,” I said quickly. “Don’t. That was just simple surprise. The good kind.”
She made a derisive noise. “I'm supposed to believe that?
“It’s true,” I insisted. “Like when you see a perfect rainbow, or win a sweepstakes.” Pause. “Or, when an amazing girl returns after you thought you'd never see her again.”
Mel swallowed, but said nothing.
“Show me again?” I asked.
Even more slowly than before, Mel opened her eyes. They searched mine, maybe looking for the truth of my words, and I was happy to let her see it. Because that gave me time to marvel at the most captivating eyes I'd ever encountered.
I had scrolled through images of dozens of shifters. Not one of them featured eyes like Mel’s. None were even close. Instead of round pupils, she had narrow black slits that pinched off at the top and bottom, neatly bisecting each eye. There was a kind of scarlet corona around both vertical pupils, but it quickly mellowed into a softer hue that completely replaced the white. It was a velvety—and familiar—pink-purple.
“Dino,” I said, suddenly realizing the significance of her tattoo. “He’s the same color as your eyes!” A big dumb smile was unfurling across my face. “And your feather charms!” I laughed in delight. “Mel, your eyes are gorgeous. Stunning. I think…” You’re beautiful. “I think they’re beautiful.”
Tears welled at the bottom of Mel’s lids and her enthralling eyes turned liquid. “How could you find anything this strange beautiful?”
I grinned. “By now I would think that's pretty clear.” I wanted to dab her tears, maybe even kiss them from her cheeks…but it was way too soon. “ ‘Strange’ is kind of our thing, right?”
Mel’s laugh was almost a sob, but it brought a fragile lightness to her face. Her body loosened like an invisible band had snapped. “I guess it is.” She sniffed and wiped her cheeks with her fingers. “Your reaction was a…a good surprise.” She faced front and set her hands on the wheel.
Ahead of us, the last train car rolled by. The bells fell silent, and the gate rose.
“What now?” she asked in the sudden quiet.
I reached up and turned off the dome light. “We keep going towards South Dakota?” I suggested. “And maybe…you keep your glasses off for the ride?”
She bit her lip, but I caught the pleased little smile before it vanished. A pang of tenderness bulls-eyed my heart. “All right,” Mel said, her voice husky and rich. “And Cal?”
“Yeah?”
“You’ve got nice eyes too. So blue they make me stupid.”
“They…do?”
Mel nodded. “Legit dreamy.” She put the car in gear, and that secretive smile made a return.
With her little smile and my big one, we rolled forward. Instead of riding in a car, it felt like I was being carried on top of her compliment like an angel on a cloud.
As the roadster bumped over the tracks and we drove through yet another Midwestern town that could have been a Hoisington sibling, I felt a different world opening in front of me. It was a vast new landscape—one that offered endless facets of Mel to discover and explore. Already, I was practically vibrating in the seat with the biggest remaining question between us.
What, exactly, did her other half look like?
