by Z Surakji
The thing about feathers is they’re kinda like teeth. Not only are they white, but they also don’t grow back. Some lose a few feathers throughout their centuries alive, while others don’t. Nonetheless, it’s often negligible and nothing too serious. However, Mercury never developed any feathers in the first place, so his own source was Amari.
A sluggish move here and the clouds beneath him buckling there, and Amari would pluck out a few of her feathers and get Mercury back in top shape. With each growing phase, Mercury sprouted new branches as his wings developed.
Aamri’s flights grew slower and fewer in number until she stopped altogether. Eventually, she remained in her house, rarely being seen anymore. But she didn’t mind leaving the sky’s embrace, so long as her son got to taste it instead. Any regrets she had would dissipate to sounds of his booming flights and trails of his silver streaks. And whenever she plucked parts of her wings off, she would always end it with a smile and the same, loving words: “Go, my little Thunderbird.”
Young and naïve, Mercury never noticed the tolls paid by his mother. She was adamant in her fight to keep his wings soaring. Her pain she would shrug off; it was nothing she couldn’t handle. Her lethargy she would hide; she was in no hurry. Her sinking feet she would neglect; she was probably gainig weight.
Mercury’s final branches had sprouted. He had reached his wings’ maturity. Nonetheless, he still had a number of empty spaces. He now flew longer, adapting to what he lacked by manipulating gravity and aerodynamics to maintain his surreal stormy speeds. But, the new spaces demanded one last fill.
She reached back to her emptied wings, ripping apart what was left. One by one, Mercury emptied Amari’s wings until she reached to find only one left. In her giving, she never stopped to count and keep track. She knew she would run out eventually, but that was for time to tell. Amari knew what she wanted to do, and she did it. All she craved was for Mercury’s booms to echo forever across the horizons. Determined as ever, she plucked out the last feather with the same amount of hope and joy she had the first time. Her smile beamed, pulling him in to her tightest embrace.
She walked behind him as he left, each step sinking deeper into the clouds beneath. Her branches of light began to flicker and sputter. She held her hands to her heart, admiring what she had birthed. Falling in love with beauty she had created as she was falling through clouds.
With no wings to carry her, Amari plummeted through layers of atmosphere. In her final moments, her body felt the rush of racing through the winds one last time. Through the holes left in her descent, she could still see the white streaks, frenzying like lightning.
“BOOM, BOOM, BOOM”
With a weakened smile, and eyes glimmering with tears and unspoken thoughts, she whispered to the heavens.
“Go…my little Thunderbird.”
© Z Surakji 2023-08-11