Horus rummages through his bag until he retrieves a cell phone with a cracked screen. I pop an eyebrow at Matthew. Horus could have called for help the second I let him free but instead, demanded Matthew bring his spare glasses from his truck. We could be locked in the clink, but Horus chose to hear us out. Maybe it’s my cooking and company keeping his ear?
As Horus navigates to his maps, I watch his screen with breath held and fingers crossed. How pathetic is it I’m hoping he doesn’t have pictures of him with a pretty woman? He doesn’t wear a wedding ring, but that doesn’t mean a hoot these days. Even his embracing an ugly woman would swing a wrecking ball through the fantasies my mind cobbles together like houses made of playing cards.
My heart sinks. He has fifteen unread messages from ‘Baby Mama Amber.’
Matthew clears his throat and glares at me when I lean too close to Horus’s shoulder. If we didn’t have company, I’d throw my napkin at his smirking face.
“See? Migration paths,” Horus declares, oblivious to our sibling tiff. “I propose where they put the butterfly pollination grounds so the natural migration routes aren’t altered. It is my dream for monarchs and people to coexist. If I designed the highway system, I’d put four pollinator sanctuaries in every cloverleaf exit. As the cars round the on and off ramps, they would drive through patches of native wildflowers. I’m not the enemy.”
The scatter plots on his phone back up his claims, but the fervor in his voice convinces me. “Dang it, Matthew! We kidnapped the wrong scientist!”
“What do you mean, we kidnapped the wrong scientist? The bulldozers follow him like ducklings behind their mama!” He grinds his fists into his eye sockets. His frustration will bloom into a headache at this rate, and he still has to drive home… Will he sleep over tonight? We don’t have enough beds…
Unless Horus joins me in my nest… Eeek! How decadent! My first one-night stand! A whirlwind tryst to spice up my bland life of isolation and loneliness is exactly what I need. He already has a baby mama, so he’s not too prudish to consider one. Amber would have a better endearment if they were truly a couple. He’s a one-shot sharp shooter to have a baby birthing on the wrong side of the blanket, so I better break out my condoms. I will finally get to use them on more than my toy collection.
Wait…Matthew would protect my virtue like a good brother should.Damn, killjoy.
“What if I were to approach the bulldozer crews? Unless I run into the foremen, they may be contractors who will give away parts of the master plan without realizing one is in motion. If they belong to Carter and recognize me, they wouldn’t suspect I’m fishing for information,” Horus says.
“Why would you help us?” Matthew asks, dropping his hands to the table hard enough to rattle the spoons in our bowls.
“Can’t you believe there are compassionate people in the world, Matthew?”
“Those may exist, but I’m not one of them,” Horus replies. His cold mask falls into place and I mourn the loss of the man living behind it. “I have reasons for the forest to maintain its biodiversity.”
“You aren’t convinced Carter Mining is evil. Well, I’m not convinced you are either,” I snap. I gather the dirty spoons into my bowl and stack our dessert dishes. On the way to the bathroom to wash them, my bare feet are silent. Why did I take off my heels? I’d make a dramatic exit with their clacks retreating across my small treehouse.
“If they bulldoze the forest, you are homeless, but so am I. I’m an entomologist. My job moves with the bugs and if they move too far from my benefactors, then they won’t support my research. That’s why I know Carter isn’t the company behind the bulldozers. Why would they sabotage the conservation they fund?”
“Talking in circles gets us nowhere,” Matthew says, grinding his fists into his eye sockets again. “Mills? I’m gonna hit the hay in Horus’s tent below. If you’re on the rooftop and I’m below the veranda, ourguestcan’t escape. No offense, Horus, but it doesn’t matter if you are on our side. You’ve seen my sister. Now I must decide what to do with you.”
“Look, I offered to talk to the demolition company tomorrow, so I won’t sneak out in the middle of the night. No need to tie me up or knock me out, okay? This is my only pair of glasses left,” Horus says as his dimples wink at me and my insides melt. He has no clue about the weapons he carries on his cheeks, which makes him even cuter.
“You are safe for tonight,” I say with a shy giggle hugging my words. “Might I also suggest you follow the money—that’s what Matthew always says.”
“Yeah, if Carter isn’t clearing our forest to mine coal, then where are they getting the money to fund a public company as an umbrella corporation over nonprofit foundations? They can invest money hand over fist, but at the end of the day, someonehas to work. Do they make something like fracking mines? Do they sell stones and gems to jewelers? Do they sell minerals to supplement refineries? Mills does nothing but research on the internet. You can’t tell me she hasn’t found their source of revenue due to lack of effort.”
“Good idea. Numbers don’t lie,” Horus says, rubbing his chin.
Matthew reknots his rope ladder and takes Horus to our latrine. I race through my evening beauty routine and fly onto the roof. Knowing Matthew, he will keep the rope ladder with him to protect my virtue. My poor brother worries about everything—everything concerning me. I wish I wasn’t a burden to him. He’d never say it, but I held him back from establishing an adult life. As much as I grouse about isolation in my treehouse, he’s just as stuck. He's human through and through. If only we both had Daddy’s moth traits or, better yet, I looked as human as Momma, we could have a life.
Too wired to sleep, but too depressed to lie in my nest under the stars, I tune my phone to my favorite dance channel. Pulse-pounding techno taps my feet and flutters my wings as I dance with the fireflies. Daddy helped me weave the rim of my nest to neck high when I was a little girl. He was afraid I’d fall out. Maybe that’s where Matthew gets his worrying. Such sweet memories fade as I measure the nest’s rim. Now it’s waist high, and wider than the treehouse’s bedroom. Did Daddy build it wide to accommodate two people? Did he suspect I would live in this treehouse for life? I wish I had asked my parents more about what they expected for my future.
Maybe I wouldn’t feel so trapped.
The electronic drums slow as they build to the beat drop. I lower into a twerk with the bass.Better keep my feetplanted.I never asked Matthew what noises I made on the roof while dancing. Horus probably thinks he’s under attack!Giggle.Imagining the covers pulled to his neck as he contemplates whether pterodactyls or bombs hit the old wooden roof over his head brings gut-busting laughter out my lips.
A small thump rounds my eyes in fear. I whirl around. Ten fingers grip the edge of the roof, followed by a slender foot. Horus swings his body over the lip and rolls into my nest.
Horus
“I may not have bulging biceps, but I can throw my skinny body around with ease,” I say with a laugh. “Sorry to intrude, but my curiosity got the best of me. I had to see what you were up to.”
It’s an organic rooftop tent. A canopy of foliage—plastic and real—obscures her home from anyone overhead. A ring of sticks, woven into an intricate lattice, creates the walls. Within the space are a phone docking station, a pile of brown and green blankets, body-sized pillows, and dog-eared paperbacks. I put up the closest book and read ‘Go Scorch Yourself.’ The double entendre isn’t lost on me. A half-naked vampire dude drapes himself across the cover.
“Give me that,” Millie shrieks. “Rooting through a woman’s book collection is akin to rummaging through her unmentionables.”
“I’m not judging,” I say with my palms raised. “I’m sorry for intruding on your personal space. I’ll leave if you want.”
