IV. WHISPERING LIPS
"Do you see the trouble you're causing our family by breaking village traditions?! Your father is already given us enough unwanted attention, and now my troublemaker of a son too? Ugh. I can't believe this. Why is it always the people around me causing all my troubles? Honestly." Blake's mother screamed. "Our family name has enough gossip circling around lately..." Her husband hasn't been around the treehouse lately. Taking long nights "at work" to afford a better life for his family, or so he says. She's been hesitant to believe her husband's insistence about the extra working hours. If he's actually making more money for them, then why is the home still as bland as their conversations? Due to her personal negligence to take accountability for herself, she's unable to comprehend it's her explosive demeanor that's the reason she's the talk of town as to why her husband's never home.
After seven years of living in this home, Blake wished he was used to the flames escaping from his mother's mouth, but to much of his dismay, they only burned deeper and deeper into his psyche with every passing argument. "B-b-but mom..."
"Don't you 'but mom' me, young man!" She turned her gaze towards her husband sitting down in his chair with a cup in hand that reeked of booze on a pouring morning. His hands holding a newspaper hard enough to rip the pages in his grip. She is growing tired of him paying more attention to the newspaper than her for almost two years now. With her husband barely ever listening to her when she lets an inferno storm into their home, she took the thought of the village's perpetuating gossip judge her enough to settle down her voice a tinge. Wouldn't want her rage to get caught in the crossfire of why her family is falling apart. "Honey, why don't you show some initiative by talking some sense into your own son? Oh, I know why. It's because the only person you ever dare have a moment of dialogue with nowadays is that wench, Wynrey."
Blake's father clenched his beak rough enough for his entire family to hear a piece of it shatter. Wanting nothing but to be left alone, his temper stormed out like it usually did to no surprise from anyone in the room. Due to his inability to ever let the discomfort of the moment have its stay for even a second, he spoke up to get away from the heat brewing in his treehouse. "Why are you dragging me into this, Beatrice? I have nothing to do with this kerfuffle and you know that. You don't have to drag me into your lane just because you can't steer your life straight like I can."
After months of trying to get her inner rage in check due to gossip in the market she overhears as she's been shopping the past year, she snapped from getting the same beak-breaking tone from him for years that hasn't changed one bit. Feeling like there should be no need to ever tell him to lay off of her with his attitude since she genuinely believes she's the only one keeping their place as decent citizens, blame always goes to her women goggling husband. With all she does to keep the family name intact, how dare he step out of line and not know his place in the family? He may be keeping the roof over her head, but he wouldn't be able to walk these streets without shame being thrown at him if it weren't for her peacekeeping with the villagers after all. All her practice crumbled in vain as her beak snapped. "See! Your son's becoming such a delinquent because you're not here to raise him! Where have you been escaping to the past two months?! And don't you dare give me a fib. Don't think me and just about anyone with a working brain cell doesn't know where you've been sneaking off to! Not getting enough stimulation from your own home? Fine! Let my disappointment in you be your entertainment from now on!"
Blake's father scowled as his grip ripped through the paper. "I didn't even get to finish reading what happened to Martha as she divorced Maroon!" He slammed the shreds of newspaper towards his wife, but they flew around her as he stormed out of the treehouse to go to his usual destressing destination.
Blake’s mother screamed as loud as her lungs could vibrate with the hope that her lazy husband could hear her disdain for him. "Bernard, you know what I think? I think a crude heathen like you deserves to be put in a lion's mouth for your disgrace to our blue bird lineage! But you know what? Even a lion wouldn't wrap its tongue around someone so tasteless!" Worrying that the neighbors could hear her uncontrolled outburst, her mouth closed faster than a flash of lightning. "Whoops. I'm going to make everyone think I'm crazy if I don't get a hold on myself. Get a grip, girl. You're better than this. You're better than him."
Blake stood as still as he could in the middle of the room with the sharp rain hitting his tired face through the door his father left open. How could his own mother be so cruel to the man she said her vows to he pondered? Does love mean nothing to her? Did she ever love his dad, or is all this a farce? But why would someone choose to marry for anything other than love? Blake is too young to process why his mom is throwing out the name of a woman he's never heard of before, but he could piece together that it is because of this Wynery person that his home is no safe haven for them. Being on the verge of tears, Blake began to worry he wouldn't hear the end of it from his mom if a single drop escapes his eyes. He puffed up his chest and told himself to man up so his mother wouldn't look at him like a rejected son.
His mother stomped her towards the counter to take a sip of the coffee she brew before the whole exchange with Blake and his father. "Why can't you be more like your older siblings, Blake? Bastion has been a doctor for over a year now. Top marks of his entire class. Not even second best came close to his talents. Basil isn't as smart as his brother, but he still found ways to exploit his 'talents.' He went off on his own after being offered a job modeling for Bogue Magazine. It's not what I wanted from him, but at least he helps bring the family name to people who've never heard of us. Yet, look at you, Blake. Half-way to being a teen, and you have yet even contributed to the family trophy room. Seven esteems from Bastion at your age, and even just one from your lower caliber brother, Basil. Won't you look at that empty spot I made for you? When are you going to do something about it? The shelf doesn't look good enough with this waste of space, you hear?" She sent out all her bottled up energy by sitting down with enough force to shake the treehouse like an earthquake. "Hone--"
"Don't you dare 'honey me,' mother! Do you even have enough self-reflection to realize your son's took those jobs because they wanted to get away from you! It's surely not because they were vain enough to chase prestige like a hungry ghost who's never satiated like you are, mother..." Blake finally let his tears escape him as the sound of her slamming down on her chair brought back the memories of all the time his father had been abused by his mother without a second of remorse. With all his cobbled up energy now escaping him from his furious rebuttal, he took the opportunity to channel his rage to fly out from his home faster than a speeding bullet. With great haste coupled with the shock of his humiliating speech, his mother was too caught up in her degrading self-image to even realize her son bolted out of her space during the peak of her storm.
Blake soared through all the pristine trees to eventually reach where the trees began to scumble from the lack of sunlight and water. It's not a neighborhood his parents allowed him to fly to, but he has someone there who would actually take in his time with sincerity by listening to him. He landed on a tree branch that could barely hold him up. The slippery branch got him to tighten his grip as the morning dew mixed in with the rainfall was about to sweep him off his feet. Anxiety made balancing his feet on the branch seem like rocket science, but his fears calmed down when he saw an eagle with messy feathers falling from him nonchalantly. Not wanting to be rude, Blake leveled his gaze to the eagle with one eye slightly larger than the other. "Eustice, you need an actual house! I could slip and hurt myself anytime here through no fault of my own. My medical bills will be on your credit card!"
With a voice full of haste and crackles, Eustice began to monologue his response. "You only need a home because your spirit has yet been freed from its cage. The monetary debt you'd incur far outweighs the safety bestowed upon you for the cost of having no walls to tie you down." Eustice became lost in his thoughts so much so that he appeared to be screeching nothing but incoherent gibberish. It didn't bother Blake in the slightest. In a strange way, the mumbled nothings is music to his ears in contrast to the words coming from hell itself at his home
"Just get a job so you could afford to live in an actual house. You're smart. I know it, you know it, and I'm willing to bet entire village practically knows it too. Why can't you find work? I don't feel safe here."
"Don't pass your inexperienced judgments onto me, youngling. I have no need to slave away to capitalism. Why water myself down to menial tasks to afford my own prison cell? I say you have quite the assuming beak to speak to me in such a way. I have seniority over you, Blake. Shut your beak and remember your place in my presence, child. Truly, do you believe the villagers see my genius the way I do, little one?"
"Ha, ha. Big words, but no career to show for it. Laaaame."
"Listen, brat! The ailment of our village is diseased by the unambitious like you! Our home was the origin of much vigor, but the complacency of prosperity has made our cage a den for sloths! No one wants to put in the work to comprehend intelligence, and my mockery from the common folk is proof of my thesis!" Blake's offensive remark hit Eustice deep as he whirled his feathers around him with the screech of a monkey caught in a tantrum.
Eustice's words couldn't penetrate Blake's wandering attention, let alone his inability to get the full picture with his eccentric way of expressing his words. Blake's too young to make heads or tails of what is being said, but he could tell by the grinding in his voice that Eustice is at the tip of his patience. The whole predicament began to hit too close to home. Wanting to diffuse the situation as soon as possible, he nonchalantly spoke up before despair hit him. "Anywho, Eustwho...it's not a big deal. I just wanted to get out of the house and away from my mother when she gets that way. One storm is bad enough right now, ya know?"
"You made the right call. No sane bird should leave themselves in a position to be scorned when no stone has been cast. Now humor me, what happened the day before with your companions? The grapevine whispered unto me you met a myth."
"Do I at least get some worms and juice before I babble?"
"No."
"Ah, pooey." Blake took a deep breath and loosened his grip on the tree branch now that he feels safe around Eustice. "We went far past the Guardian Tree, and some giant, furry monster with claws began screaming at us as some weird red thing with two red flames behind it showed up."
Eustice put his feather on the chin of his beak. "Hmm. Sounds like the creature of legend, but what is this twin red flame you speak of?"
"I'm not sure. It all happened so fast. I couldn't wrap my head around it. We were all so scared. There was no time to think. We had to make a run for it. I'm too young to die! I haven't even got a chance to try and learn to bake my own worm pie yet!"
Eustice casts a glare on young Blake. "Enough with your extraneous words, blasted Blake! I dare say it is best for you to recall your memories precisely with accuracy. Wouldn't want us to be ill prepared for this twin-tailed--animal? Beast? P-perhaps...d-deity?!" Eustice became lost in wonderment at the idea that maybe Blake and his companions ran into an omnipotent being that no one so far has laid their eyes on. The idea itself got his mind rolling faster than a boulder on a cliff. Imagine the fame he could be showered in if these thoughts turn out to be genuine. This was his chance to prove to all the naysayers belittling his intellectual prowess.
"I said I don't know! Geeze, Mr. Eusty. You sure are bad at listening." Blake let out a loud sigh as he stuck his tongue out from all this nauseous speak of things he couldn't quite make sense off. "Blehhh!"
Eustice, enraged that his caring ears are being assaulted by such vile words, threw a bigger tantrum than he had just a moment ago. His weak tree branch couldn't handle the pressure. The branches broke apart with both of them falling beak first into unconsciousness.
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