MOTHMEN

MOTHMEN

By: Kaelan Rhywiol

CHAPTER 1

The tricked out V8 Hemi in her brother's truck rumbled, deep and throaty. Shea guided the screaming-scarlet extended-cab pickup into the driveway of her family's farm. She stopped just off the road, slid carefully out of the jacked truck using the foot board and cursed her pencil skirt. With a quick glance around to make sure no one could see in the gathering dusk, she hiked the skirt up high enough to expose her thigh-highs and hopped down to get the mail.

The huge, old mailbox looked like a cat with its tail sticking up, flagging her to come empty its belly. When the door--shaped like the cat's lower jaw--fell off, Shea muttered, "Should've been replaced decades ago." She knew why her father hadn't removed it. He'd never gotten over her mother's death, and the fool thing had been her favorite.

Shea didn't have many memories of her mom. Vague impressions of a gentle contralto voice, the scent of her skin and the color of her hair, black and worn in long locks to her waist. She remembered the soft clicking of the beads and shells her mom had ended each twist with, and the colorful head wraps she'd worn to contain her hair when she was working.

Her hands trembled a bit as she reached out to empty the overflowing mailbox. She flipped through the bills, all marked over due, past due, pay immediately, until she got to the one she'd been expecting. Auction notice. She closed her eyes and tried to still the aching pain in her gut.

She opened the envelope and scanned the information quickly in the glare of the headlights. The auction date for the farm had been set for ten days from now. Unless she could make arrangements to refinance or pay the past due amount--neither of which she could--her farm would be sold to the highest bidder. She piled the mail in her arms, it overflowed but she managed to toss it all into the seat of the truck.

She glanced at the broken mailbox and a sad huff erupted. Couldn't be called a laugh, not with that much despair in it, but the damned cat looked cuter with a broken jaw. Shea slid her skirt up her thighs again and climbed into her brother's truck, careful of her high heels on the foot board. She started the engine with a well tuned roar and drove up the half mile long driveway to the farm house. Cautious, as always, of the pot holes filled with rainwater.

She collected her things, bag, groceries, the mail, and made her way to the door. Damned wood had swollen again with the rain but with a familiar shoulder shove and hip bump she got it open without dropping much. She piled her stuff on the hall table and set the keys down. Then Shea braced her hands on the edge of the table and hung her head. The house smelled of astringent and dust, but the echoing silence of the medical equipment weighed heavily in the darkened rooms. For so long the never ending hisses and beeps from the machines keeping her father alive and comfortable had been a background susurration. Now, everything was quiet.

She made another trip to the truck, unloading all the casseroles the kind ladies of the parish had brought to her at the repast, even though she'd long ago forsaken the church she'd been raised in. Her throat tightened with grief and her chest flared with gratitude that she'd held the reception at the local VFW instead of here. At least she could be alone now.

She'd had to wear her public mask all through the funeral and the repast and now, she ached with exhaustion. She bumped the door closed with her ass, kicked her heels off and shuffled in slippery hose to the kitchen where she stored the food.

Glancing at the clock she realized it was way past dinner. She had no appetite, hadn't had one all day and the very idea of food made her sick. She washed her hands at the sink and the sound of the water clattering into the basin echoed through the entire house. Suddenly, she couldn't bear to stay there anymore. Her somber clothes, left over from her brother's funeral three years ago now felt too tight, like they'd shrunk somehow over the intervening hours.

She raced upstairs to her room, threw off the black clothes and slid into her comfy Emory U sweats, t-shirt and hoodie. She slid her feet into white ankle socks and washed the makeup off. Then packed a few things in her university backpack and thumped down the stairs and into her sneakers. Squeaking into the kitchen, she added some granola bars, water and her phone to the bag before grabbing the bottle of wine she'd bought on the way home.

Her chest burned with the need to cry, but tears just didn't want to come. Her eyes were dry and itched like they'd been replaced by curried marbles, but no tears fell. She walked through the too silent house and out the door into the night.

Shea pulled the stubborn farmhouse door closed with a grunt and locked it. She shifted her shoulders to settle her backpack and turned, stepping carefully on the rickety stairs leading to the ground. "Dad should've fixed those years ago, too."

She bundled her hair up under her headwrap and inhaled the scent of the gardenias, roses, and jasmine her brother had planted when they were teens. They ran riot through the property now, without Dare to control them with a pair of hedge clippers. The humid twilight air redolent with the scent of those damned flowers and her mind haunted by memories she didn't want, Shea started walking. Her foot thunked into a bundled newspaper. She must've dropped it coming in from the truck.

She glanced at the affectionately named Beast. Scarlet, her brother had always loved red, and the truck not only had its name stenciled across the hood, but ornate custom flame work raking the sides. She chuckled bitterly. "At least that's paid for, I'll have someplace to live when the house goes."

She shoved her glasses up her nose and bent to pick up the paper. The date on the paper read, September twenty-ninth, a couple days old. She turned and tossed the offending reminder to the porch. Avoiding puddles in the graveled driveway, she found the path leading down to the fields and her sanctuary. A particular field that had been 'hers' for as long as she could remember. Everything that had ever mattered to her she'd done in that field.

It'd been her escape from childhood bullies, she'd gifted her virginity to her high school sweetheart on a blanket there, ensconced in waving fronds of sweetgrass. She'd even said goodbye to him in that field bordering his father's place. Her heart ached, she wished she and Rian hadn't lost touch. She'd have given a lot for one of his hugs. Just for the sound of his voice. "He's probably married with six kids in California by now. Let it go, Shea."

That field was the only place she'd always felt at home in. She hefted the heavy bottle of wine and listened to the shushing of car tires on the damp highway bordering her farm. "Doesn't matter now, does it?" She looked up at the glitter strewn eternity of the night sky, wondering if there really were a heaven and if her father and brother had found one another beyond the veil. She trudged through the fallow fields until she got to hers and opened the little blind she'd spent so much time in over the past years.

It'd been months since she'd been here, her father's illness had taken hold fast, and the aggressive treatments that had cost so much hadn't been enough. She'd buried him today.

Before that, she'd been using the blind to study moths for her dissertation, and easing a soul deep craving she'd never been able to put a name to. She zipped herself inside, turned on the light to draw the little beauties to her screens so she could see them a last time, and settled in to get drunk.

She'd have to decide what to do tomorrow, but for tonight, she could forget, for a little while. Her body spasmed as she sat down and she gasped at the pain. Not again!

She'd been to so many doctors over the past two years. None of them could figure out why she randomly tightened up, every muscle in her body cranking down hard and making it impossible to move. Seizures, the clueless doctors called them. Except they weren't like any seizures they'd ever seen before. Shea refused to take medications until they figured out what was wrong, she wasn't a lab rat. She groaned as the tension passed, and bit her lip. Worn out, exhausted, heartbroken, she wanted to give up. What's the point of fighting anymore?

"Shhh, can you be any louder?" Rian hissed at his lover.

"What?" Jai muttered. "She's human, she won't hear us."

"She might, she's one of our kind."

"Are you sure? It's not just because she's--"

"I taste it in her breath, on the sweat from her skin perfuming the air. Yes, I'm sure." Rian glanced at his beloved. They'd been together for years, and sometimes, they bickered like oldsters. "I suspected when we dated in high school, but now I know for a fact."

"Fine. If you're sure." Jai sighed. "Are we ready for this, though? I mean, we've talked about it, but--are we really, really ready?"

Rian stopped heel-toeing through the soft, wet leaves of the night-dark forest. A car passed on the distant highway, Five Finger Death Punch blaring from open windows. He turned and took his beloved in both arms and wings. "We don't have to. I'm happy with you."

"I want to, but--" Jai lifted a hand to caress Rian's sharp jawline, he went on tiptoe to kiss him. "I just--it's going to change so much."

"I know." Rian kissed his beloved's head, whispering into the long, blue-black hair. "I know, let's take it a step at a time. At this point, it's just a potential."

They held one another for a long time, their keen hearing picking up all the sounds of the summer's night.

Jai lifted his head with a kiss to Rian's collar bone. "I'm ready, let's go look at your scientist, it's past two AM already."

Rian's grin creased golden-tan cheeks. "Thank you, love."

"You're welcome. Now let's go." Jai grinned and tiptoed to the edge of the field. In the distance, a blind had been set up, right in the center. Their neighbor's property had grown up in places over the past century, but one of the farmer's kids came and bush-hogged it every year or three. It kept the undergrowth down, at least it used to.

Rian whispered, "Shea set up that blind when we were young. It's kind of her special spot. She hasn't been here for a few months, but before that she came most nights. She talks aloud, has this odd habit of rambling to herself, has since we were kids. So I know a bit about what's been going on with her. She's changed some since school, but essentially she's still the person I knew."

"You know her dad died, right?"

"What?" Rian stopped to look at Jai. "When?"

"Couple days ago, funeral must have been yesterday or today."

"Damnit. I wish I hadn't been out of town."

"You had to work, love. You couldn't turn down that project, not with millions on the line."

"I know, but--"

"You're here now, that's what matters. And if you're right about her, being here over the next few months will matter more."

Rian shook his head and sighed before picking up where he'd left off. "Before her dad got sick, she studied moths."

Jai snorted. "Moths? Boy, what's she gonna to think of us?" He flickered his black, orange and brown wing to emphasize the point.

Rian settled his lime green wings tighter to his back. "Let's get closer."

The two males eased through the thigh high grass. Unlike their smaller cousins--the moths clustered around the blind--the guys weren't attracted to the lights. They got close enough for Jai to catch her scent and to hear a soft contralto voice muttering drunkenly. The aroma of red wine filled the air. A lot of wine. Her voice slurred as she spoke over the lyrics of Stitches by Shawn Mendes, his dulcet voice caressed the night air. They listened.

"Why not? No one's going to miss me now. This pain is going to kill me, and the seizures are getting worse." She sang along with the song. "Just like a moth drawn to a flame..." Is that why Dare?"

Jai glanced carefully through the netting of the view ports. Catching her scent, he pursed his lips, she was one of them alright.

The scientist continued to mumble."Gods, how could you do it Dare? I know life wasn't good, but how..." The woman took another swig, emptying the bottle and tossing it aside with a thump. "Why am I even moaning about this now? You died years ago. It's Father finally giving up the ghost, that's what. I'm isolated now. We weren't close, but now I'm utterly alone. I have no blood family left, no friends, nothing but a degree I might as well wipe my ass on for how much good it does me."

Rian stared intently over Jai's shoulder. He and Shea had dated in senior year of high school, but that had been over a decade ago. Built petite, Shea had dark hair and amber eyes. Her skin gleamed in a blended mix of light copper and brown, hinting at First Nations or Spanish ancestry. The way her long hair kinked in naturally tight curls around her head and shoulders intimated African ancestors somewhere in her family tree.

Her scent on the night air drew him like the proverbial moth to a flame. She was close to her change. In the years since they'd gone to separate universities and grown apart, she'd matured from a coltish young woman to a full blown, curvy goddess. He grinned when he noted a nose ring.

Jai grasped Rian over the edge of his bare shoulder and pulled him far enough away that they could speak. "She's close to her change, really close. She knows nothing of what she is?"

"I don't think so. She never said anything about it in school, not that I did either. But even in the few nightly monologues I've listened to, she hasn't mentioned the preparations for a showing or a mating or anything our people would normally do for a new female. Her brother died a little over three years ago. Now her dad's gone, even if they'd known, it might have gotten lost in the echo."

"We can't leave her to find out alone, she said she's having seizures, that means the change is coming fast. Leaving her to go through it unprepared, that would be--"

"Wrong, so wrong, I know," Rian said.

"But how?"

"How what?"

"How do we even..." Jai paced around the clearing, keeping his wings lifted up off the ground. "How do we get her to come with us? How do we tell her?" He looked at Rian and tilted his head when Rian grinned.

"We play to the myths."

"Myths?" Jai crossed his arms over his bare chest and shook his head. "You're kidding, right? That kidnapping thing?"

"Why not?"

"But, Rye, kidnapping?"

"Rescuing."

"Yeah, but will she view it like that?"

Rian bit his lip. "Hmm. Maybe?" He flicked his wings in frustration. "We can't let her turn without any idea of what's going to happen. Maybe since she knew me once upon a time it won't be so bad?"

"Just telling her isn't going to work. She'd never believe us."

"Maybe if we shifted in front of her?"

Jai rolled his eyes. "Yeah, cause a guy turning into a giant moth in front of you is so normal."

Rian shrugged. "Fine, what do you want to do? She has days, weeks at most."

"I don't know, let me think."

Rian crossed his arms and stood watch over the little blind while Jai paced and thought.

"Shealyn MacConnelly, stop talking to yourself, people'll think you're nuts." She giggled, a sound so full of despair it couldn't be called laughter. "Gods, I can't believe I drank a whole mag of wine alone, I haven't done that since undergrad."

She leaned forward, dug into the bottom of her pack and dragged a bottle of water out. She listened to the thrumming thump of bullfrogs in the nearby swamp and sighed. She loved the night. She'd always loved it. Being shrouded by the darkness soothed her somehow.

Irritably, she yanked her glasses off. That was another thing the doctors couldn't figure out. She'd needed glasses since she turned eight, now, suddenly, and only sometimes, she didn't. She rubbed her eyelids tiredly.

Her worries hijacked her mind. She'd have to sell the property of course. Easy enough to do, she had a fist full of cards from developers just salivating to get their hands on the acreage. Even if she lucked out enough to land a teaching job--likelihood zero given the way universities treated academics these days--she'd never be able to afford the taxes. Not on so many acres.

She let her head hang back, no matter how much she'd drunk, the pain still haunted her. Both the physical pain of the spasms and the emotional wound where Daren should be. The jagged scar of Dare's death screamed bloody agony from her soul.

Her brother, her twin. Dare had killed himself a little over three years ago, but it felt like yesterday. In and out of trouble his whole life--some deserved, he hadn't been a saint, most of it because of the color of his skin--he'd finally landed in prison. When he'd gotten out, it had taken him less than twenty-four hours to OD on heroin. Her brother had been wicked smart, no way it'd been an accident.

Shea had lost herself in books her entire life and it had been Dad and Daren who'd done the bulk of the work running the farm. She didn't have a clue where to even start, and even if she knew, it was too late.

"Ten days," she whispered to the moths. Ten days 'til final notice on the mortgage and the bank started proceedings to auction it off. She'd have to sell it, but that meant she'd lose this plot of land too. The one place that consoled her.

She leaned back in her small camp chair and drank water. Her head reeled, and she giggled again, her voice wavered drunkenly as she sang. "Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me!" She squeezed her eyes shut against tears. "Oh, if only magic were as real in the world as it is in my heart." She pulled herself up to sit straight, having to catch her balance on a palm pressed to the tarp-covered floor.

"Goblin King, Goblin King, wait, that's not right..." Thinking back to Labyrinth, one of her favorite childhood movies, Shea's eyes popped open. "Got it! I wish. I wish." A bitter laugh erupted. "I wish for the impossible, I wish for adventure, magic, love, and above all a new life. One that doesn't hurt so damned much." She crawled over to look at the lovely female silk moth that had come to the light. Her vision without her glasses was crisp and clean, for the moment. "Think the goblin king is listening little one?"

Shea sighed and dragged herself to her feet. She had to pee in the worst way. She unzipped the blind, startling a plethora of moths and staggered toward the woods. On her way back, she tripped and landed hard on the damp ground.

"Fuck it." She closed her eyes. "Honestly, everything feels like too much trouble now. Especially life." Darkness claimed her.

Jai grabbed Rian's wrist and said, "We can't leave her like that."

Rian was already moving. He interlaced his fingers with Jai's. "I know, let's go."