Wings

Abner looked up from his studies and frowned.  The itch in his back was stronger.  He couldn't quite reach the right spot between his shoulder blades and the irritation was strong enough now that he couldn't concentrate. 

His back itched.  He was uncomfortable.  Besides, he already knew about the evolutionary charts that depicted the several taxonomic ranks defining the Class, Order, and Family of his kind.  Mammalia.  Primates.  Cebidae.  He was ready for the Biology exam.  He was sure.  He knew the juxtaposition of the Avis class into the Mammalia class that resulted in the mutation of wings on the first Avis-Primate cross millions of years ago.  The wings were small at first, then as each Family of Primate evolved, one specialized by keeping the wings and expanding on them.  This mutation was eventually responsible for the wings that his older friends now preened with such care. 

"Sir," Abner asked, "May I be excused to use the toilet?"  He REALLY needed to scratch his back and fidgeting in class was not the way to stay out of detention.

"There's only 10 minutes left in the period, Abner.  Surely you can wait until the classes change."

"Of course, Sir," Abner replied.  Dejected, he slumped against the back of the seat.  He instantly bolted upright as the sensitive part of his back came in contact with the seat.  Now the spot itched more than ever.

"There's no use fidgeting, Abner.  You'll need to wait until the classes change," droned the teacher from the front of the room. 

How did he see that?  Sure, it wasn't a small movement, but Abner wasn't sitting in his direct line of sight.  It wasn't fair, mused Abner.  There had to be some rule against holding people against their will when a simple biological function needed attention. 

"I'm not a child, not anymore," thought Abner.  "I reached my 15th year months ago.  I'd be able to come and go as I pleased if I'd already gone through the ceremony." 

Most of his friends had gone through their ceremonies almost a year ago.  Abner's celebration day fell at the end of the 16 month lunar year.  He had had to wait a full 14 lunar cycles longer than his friends before it would be his turn for the ceremonies.  He could see them sitting along the opposite side of the classroom, the side segregated for the students who were now considered adults.  Their chairs were wider to accommodate the new feather growth everyone experienced in their 16th year.  Abner gazed at the feathers with a mixture of longing and dread.  Did it hurt when their wings expanded?  Did their muscles pull when they first learned to fly?  What did it feel like to soar above the tree tops and land on the home balcony instead of climbing the trees to get home?

The sound of rustling papers brought Abner back from his meditations.  He realized that he had missed the class change signal that meant the end to the school day.  He gathered his own materials and hurried out of the classroom, pausing long enough to scratch his back on a convenient vertical ledge in the hallway.

Abner's friends were gathered with the other student-adults at the west end of the school.  The feathers on their wings glistening in the sunlight.  One by one they stretched their wings and took to the skies until only Abner and the other still wingless children were left to walk home from the school yard.

"One more lunar cycle, "  Abner grumbled,  "then I'll have my ceremony and be an adult, too." 


"Only 13 days left."  It was the first thought that Abner had when he woke up the next morning.  His back was itchy again, so he scratched it against the corner of his doorway on his way down to breakfast.  As he picked up his books for school, something floated in the air at the very edge of his vision.  Turning his head, Abner caught sight of a small white feather on the floor.  "Steve should learn to pick up after himself," grumbled Abner, mostly under his breath.  Steve was Abner's older brother and by Abner's assessment, a total slob.  His wings had come in 2 years ago and he was always molting feathers around the house and leaving them for others to pick up.

Once he got to school, Abner leaned against the wall while waiting for the water fountain.  He jumped away from the wall as if he had been electrocuted.  His back HURT.

"Something is terribly wrong," thought Abner.  He went to the nurses office to see if she could help.

While waiting to see the nurse, Abner caught sight of himself in the mirror.  His short fur was brownish yellow in color and splayed away from his pale face in all directions.  He self consciously brushed the fur down in a futile effort to try and make it lay flat.  He turned sideways and gaped at what the mirror displayed. 

Wings.  He had his wings!  They were just emerging and they hadn't fully unfurled yet.  He wondered if he could fly.  As he watched, he started to rise off the floor.  "I guess I just have to think about it and my body knows what to do," thought Abner.  Then he crashed onto the floor in a heap.

"It takes concentration to stay airborne the first few times,"  Nurse Flower said as she came out of her office.  "Congratulations on your wing development, Abner!  I'll call your mother to come pick you up.  Once your wings come in you need to rest quite a bit until your ceremony to let them fully develop.  I guess the next time I see you, you'll be an adult!"

Abner sank into one of the larger chairs reserved for student-adults, ignoring his itchy and painful back.  He smiled.


Word Count:  978