In the Shadow of Blackbirds by Cat Winters

Author:Cat Winters
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Amulet Books
Published: 2013-04-02T05:00:00+00:00

AT FOUR THIRTY, I SAID GOOD-BYE TO MY AUDIENCE AND went to the door to fetch my bag.

My pace slowed as I drew nearer the exit. The same feeling of dissatisfaction that had pestered me at Mr. Darning’s studio turned my legs sluggish. I hadn’t accomplished one single thing for Stephen. I had worried too much about upsetting the men to ask them the questions baffling my brain.

My feet came to a halt.

I turned toward the person in the room who had spoken to me with the most honesty and marched in his direction.

“Ah, Aunt Gertie returns.” Jones twirled an unlit cigarette around with his fingers like a baton.

“You seem unafraid of honesty.” I stopped in front of him. “I need to ask you a question about the war.”

I could see his mouth harden through the hole in his mask. Clenching my fists, I fought off my fear. “What would you think if a soldier told you he was being tortured by birds over in France?” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “What would that mean to someone who’s been over there?”

Again he studied me with those watchful, penetrating eyes that didn’t seem to blink. “I’d say, ‘Keep your nightmares to yourself, pal. Those aren’t the things we’re supposed to be discussing with other people.’”

“You’d think they’re just nightmares?”

“If I mentioned out loud half the things that torture me in my dreams, I’d be put in a straitjacket faster than you can say crackpot. And I guarantee you every man sitting in this building feels the same way.”

I looked out at all the other men and experienced a depth of concern so overwhelming it made me tremble. I took a breath to steady myself and turned back to Jones. “There was nothing over there resembling murderous birds, then? Nothing that could have pinned a soldier down?”

“I don’t know.” He crossed his right leg over his left knee and bit the cigarette between his teeth. “Reality and nightmares have a funny way of blurring together when a man’s fighting down in the bowels of mother earth.” He twitched his foot and kept his gaze on my face. “Why do you want to know this stuff? Who’s telling you he’s getting pinned down by birds?”

I bit my lower lip and debated whether I should answer.

He gave a short laugh that was more of a shrug. “You’re as bad as the doctors, aren’t you? Wanting to know what’s going on inside our heads but scared sick of the answers. Maybe you shouldn’t go asking about things your naive female brain can’t handle. Go back to your quilting bees and tea parties or whatever the hell you all concern yourselves with.”

This time I was the one who responded with an unflinching glare. “A dead boy is the one telling me,” I said. “A dead soldier.”

His eyes lost a hint of their chill. “What are you talking about?”

“Even us naive women find ourselves haunted by the war, you see. And some of us have even tried killing ourselves, like you claim you’re tempted to do.

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