The Winged Hour

The bucket vibrated on the deck as another pebble bounced off the rim. It rolled down the concrete into the afternoon grass. The wanderer sighed as he leaned back, staring into the blazing sun. Maybe she wasn't coming. He closed his eyes as the buzzing of the thicket intensified in the growing heat. She definitely wasn't coming. Wolfie rose up from the porch and wiped the beads of sweat from his face. He glanced furtively towards the screen door. A woman of thirty or so, his mother, leaned against the wall, her back facing him, sipping cold tea. His bag was waiting patiently by his mother, next to her feet. Wolfie's right hand twitched and the insects buzzed louder.
He stepped forward without a thought, hooking his arm through the strap. In aggravation and rage his mother lost her insight and spit tea in his face. Wolfie smirked, kissed her on the cheek, and escaped gracefully, slamming the screen door in his haste. Mrs. Hayes sighed and shook her head sorrowfully. 'Boys will be boys.' She tried to justify. The aging woman slumped down in an empty chair and continued to thoughtfully sip her tea.
Wolfie brushed through the thicket and slipped down the hill, sharp leaves fanning his face. The pond raced through his mind, drawing him closer to the tire swing and green water. He was free.
Cars screeched in their wake as Wolfie ran over Dutton Street. The convenient store stayed distant on the horizon. He cut through the parking lot and walked easily into the store. The idiots always took the Friday shifts in summer, so taking stuff was no big thing. The boy ducked into the good aisle, snacks stretched on for centuries, longing to be plucked from their cage. He stealthily pulled down the zipper on his bag, and deftly swept packs of chips or cookies inside. Wolfie examined his findings carefully and decided to take a soda for good measure. Closing his bag, the successful boy sauntered out of the store, whistling. No one noticed anything in this small town, least of all a thief. If they did, they just ignored it.
A group of boys crowded outside the store and waved the thief a salute. Wolfie nodded in acceptance and passed by the younger boys, leaving them there. The pond was waiting. The sun beat down on the pavement, casting a shadow on the boy as he walked away. The road seemed to stretch on, taking Wolfie farther from the cool water and the summer days ahead. He raised an arm and a thumb for the easy way out. Trailing slowly down the road, a beat up station wagon pulled off to the side. A strange man rolled down the window, shaggy hair peeked out through the crack. He made a motion for Wolfie to jump inside. The sandy haired boy slung his pack over his shoulder and waltzed over to the car door and hopped in the back seat, giving the man directions. Turning up the radio and pulling back the sunroof, the hipped out college student nodded and pulled back into the traffic. Rays of light splayed over the interior of the station wagon and splayed an ethereal light on the backseat. It was one of those days Wolfie wouldn't be soon forgetting.
He tapped his fingers on the glass as swirls of color rushed by in the fading morning. Dotted highway lines blinked in and out as the car drew closer to the pond. The man spoke a little, mostly about the war. His voice was like a skipping record player, so Wolfie just ignored him and watched the dangling dream catcher hanging form the rearview mirror.
Trees rose up in the windshield, like some dream from his childhood. Sleepy boughs swayed in the presence of clouds, water rippling with leaves that moved like snakes with the growing breezes. When the car stopped, he broke from the door and ran madly through the tall maple grass. Perfect only lasts for three seconds, though. Before he could jump to the rubber tire, he tripped over the biggest pain, his best friend. Wolfie's foot caught in the grains of soil and he plummeted to the grass below, tasting the fresh mud in his mouth. His eyebrows knitted in pure frustration as he felt his friend slowly rise behind him.
"Man, you ruined it." Wolfie yelled back at the boy in the dry grass. The boy shrugged his shoulders and fell back into the dirt filled ground, closing his eyes. Sticky, wet, slippery clumps of gooey mud stuck like glue to Wolfie's fingers as he pushed himself up off the ground. He stood over the smug kid, blocking the sun from view. "Why are you even here?" Wolfie asked suspiciously. "Weren't you supposed to be out with Nancy today?" The boy shrugged again in calm indifference, enjoying the sound of the wind blowing through the trees. "Man, she's gonna be so angry. It's like what, the third time you've stood her up?" Wolfie received no response. "Are you even listening, Dan?" The boy opened his eyes and shrugged. Wolfie cheeks puffed out in aggravation. He drew back a foot a kicked Dan square in the side. "Stupid hippie." He muttered. Dan laughed into the spicy hot air and jumped up from his nap.
"You're so uptight, Wolfie. You need to chill out sometimes." The laid back boy replied. Wolfie grumbled. "I'm done with Nancy," Dan murmured. "But there's gonna be a thing tonight at the cabin. You coming, or did you have plans with Becky?"
"No." Wolfie admitted. "I waited for her all morning, but the chick never showed up, so I'm game. Who's going?" Dan shrugged his shoulders.
"Who knows?"
"Man, you never know anything." Wolfie complained.
"Yeah, I know." The boys took of towards the wooden cabin down the road, pond forgotten in their minds. There was a party tonight and that was more important.
It had been years since they found the cabin, piled up with cobwebs and mold in the wet month of April. The cabin had been empty since Mr. McNamara left in 54, and boys just happened to stumble across the old thing. Wolfie said they should fix up the thing, and Dan helped out with the progress. The cabin was theirs, and theirs alone. It became their home away from home, and the best place for a party. As they came up to the cabin, Wolfie noticed the lights were already on.
"It's already started?" He asked. Dan nodded
"Yeah," He answered lazily. "I said they could go in without waiting for us." The boys walked on in silence, one of them slightly annoyed. Wolfie leaned against the doorframe while Dan knocked on the wooden door.
"Is that you, Danny?" A muffled voice asked through the wood. He told her it was and Becky opened the door. She stared at Wolfie in slight shock and embarrassment before regaining her composure. "Um. . .Come on in guys." They followed Becky into the cabin. A few people were playing pool, onlookers lined up by the couch. Couples were on the couch, and the crazy ones were dancing. Some rebels were in the far corner.
"I think I'll join the rebels." Dan spoke rapidly inspired. "I've got some ideas for trashing the gym." Becky and Wolfie stood awkwardly by the door.
"Becky, why didn't you show up this morning?" The girl looked trapped and fidgeted nervously
"Sorry, I've gotta go, over there, to do some talking to the boys about some important stuff." Wolfie shoved his hands in his jacket as the girl walked away. Looking around the room, he felt disconnected, out of place. Colors struck against the wall from the light machine and the record spun in circles, never skipping a beat. They laughed and talked about nothing or everything and Wolfie felt like he was caught in a nest of flies. Nancy walked up to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, Wolfie," she whispered.
"What?" He ground out.
"I really have to talk to you. It's about Danny." Wolfie nodded and was about to turn around, when something beautiful caught his eye in the middle of the chaos. The walls of the room seemed to be twisting around her, but it was just a white bed sheet tossed over her head, swaying in time to the record. And as she turned, he was humbled, almost brought to his knees. Wolfie was trapped and for moments out of time, the sky was falling and the ground beneath his feet disappeared. So he called the weightless emotion love and he burned.
The music was slowly lifted from the atmosphere and the summer of 1969 began to fade as she tossed the white cotton to the side. She stood between the two boys, torn and guilty. It took one step to change and she would not walk away.
Fear wrapped around her ankles so she reached out trembling fingers to Danny and grabbed his hand. On a whim of reckless impulse she stepped forward and brought her arms around him. She looked to Wolfie and closed her eyes in shame.
Suddenly, everything was black and white. Everyone knew what Wolfie knew. His heart beat up in his ears and the pressure was building, clogging up his head. They pitied him and they knew and every person held back, somber and astonished.
So Wolfie smiled vaguely, as laughter bubbled up from his throat. He turned to leave, but quickly spun around, face to face with his betrayal. There was a crack, then a snap, and Danny lay unconscious on the ground. Wolfie's hands shook as the crowd gathered, but Becky stood to watch Wolfie leave. It was then she knew her mistake, but time had passed her by.
When at last August came to a close, the sun stooped still lazily in the sky. Wolfie finally reached the lake, vacant and rippling with the falling leaves. He lifted his head from the wavering reflection of his betrayer. Her face was golden, still forgiving and cruel. She lifted one hand to his shoulders while brushing her hair back.
"I'm sorry." He knew they had lost. Intangible, it drifted away on the nonexistent breeze on stagnant wind.