The Hubris of Flight
Finale
She didn’t really feel like being at work. Then again, she supposed, most people don’t feel like working. But here she was. She sighed heavily. Family emergency or not, bills still needed to be paid.
She worked the opening shift and arrived at the store an hour before opening. She enjoyed the time to herself, getting the store ready without a co-worker trying to chat with her. Her co-workers were mostly part-timers, high school or college kids looking for an easy gig. They were mostly harmless, but also mostly incompetent.
She liked her mornings at the store. The fluffies were always in a good mood, and happy to see her. When she first started working at this FluffMart she would come in every morning to distraught fluffies that complained about how much they hated the dark. The complaints, and associated fear-induced shitting, were decidedly unpleasant. She had the idea to change the lightbulbs to dimmable LEDs. After a few weeks of trial and error, the staff discovered the optimal overnight brightness that would keep fluffies from complaining while still allowing them to get a good nights sleep.
That little bright idea earned her a managerial position. Not a glamorous promotion, but it was enough to allow her to afford a nice townhouse. She was always content, and usually quite happy. Between work and business management classes at the local community college, she didn’t have much time for any type of social life.
But she always found time to worry about her brother.
She turned the lights up and smiled at all the fluffies as they greeted her from their respective pens. She encouraged all the fluffs to use their litterboxes for their morning business while she prepared their breakfasts. It was basic economy brand kibble, but she would pour the food into a large plastic tub and cover it with a can of pasta sauce. A sprinkle of Italian seasoning and a pinch of grated parmesan cheese. She put the lid on the tub and shook the container thoroughly, dispersing the sauce and cheese over the kibble. She had been doing this for about a month now, determining the cost to be just over $10 per week.
She hoped this little bright idea would earn her another promotion.
The fluffies loved the concoction, which they started calling sketti-kibbew. She filled the bowls in each pen, and began the task of cleaning the litterboxes. Only a few pens with smaller foals required additional cleanings. She grabbed a wet rag and began to clean up a pen with a very nice mare and several foals. The mare was crying softly, and had not touched her food.
“Hey girl, are you okay?” Amanda asked softly.
The mare startled slightly, apparently unaware of Amanda’s presence.
“yuss mummah, sowwy fo cwying, fwuffy jus am saddies.”
Amanda stroked the mare’s mane softly.
“What are you sad about, girl?”
“Huu fwuffy am saddies becawse spechuw fwend an wingeh-babbeh wen away.” The fluff let some tears flow, looking Amanda in the eyes as she added “buh fwuffy kno nu am suppowse to cwy wen fwends and babbehs get nu mummahs and daddehs.”
Amanda felt sick to her stomach. This mare’s special friend, and foal, had been adopted by her schizoaffective brother the previous day. She didn’t want to know how the fluffs were faring under her brothers care. She put on a fake smile and stroked the fluff some more, offering reassuring words that she couldn’t bring herself to believe.
“I’m sure your beautiful little foal is very happy to have her daddy with her, don’t you think? Your special friend can make sure your little foal grows up knowing just how special her momma is, and how much you love her.”
The mare continued to weep softly, but the tears were more joyous now. She had a big dopey smile on her face, and she talked to herself about all the nice things her spechuw fwend would tell her babbeh. Amanda let the mare cheer herself up, and was relieved when the mare began to scarf down her morning meal. The remaining foals in the pen cheeped and peeped softly, smelling the yummy milkies their mummah had already begun to produce.
With the pens cleaned and the fluffs made presentable, Amanda opened the shop for business. It was a typical day, a steady stream of customers helped keep her mind occupied. She had almost forgotten about her brother entirely when a somewhat familiar face walked in the store.
Dan Carter smiled as he approached the counter. He waited for the flash of recognition in Amanda’s eyes before he spoke.
“Hey Mandy.”
Nobody called her that anymore, not since high school anyways. She hadn’t seen Dan since then, but noticed he looked… good. More fit than she remembered, not that she ran in the same circles as him anyways.
“Dan? Oh my God it’s so good to see you! How are you? And what brings you into my humble little shop?” She smiled before adding “Are you in the market for some over-priced children’s toys?” she asked, gesturing at a nearby pen of fluffies. The two shared a brief laugh before Dan replied.
“Afraid I’m here for work reasons.” He produced a thin wallet which contained a badge she instantly recognized. Her Dad had been a cop for the local police department for over thirty years, retiring as a commander. She looked at Dan and her heart sank.
“Adam…?”
Dan nodded with a somber look in his eyes.
“Mandy, can we talk privately? Is there like a manager’s office, or…?”
She called over to the part-time employee that was busy stocking the shelves, telling the young man to watch the register while she went to the office. Her legs felt like jelly as she led Dan to the back office. Several fluffies called out as she walked by, getting into uppies position and giving their usual friendly little sales pitch on why they should be adopted. Amanda ignored them all.
The back office was a cramped little room, dimly lit and generally uninviting. The walls were completely covered with federally mandated OSHA regulations, various state licensures, Hasbio legal documents, and other indicia one would expect in a fluffy sales center. A small folding table, flanked by two small and uncomfortable folding chairs, was where she heard the words she had been dreading for over a decade.
Dan introduced himself as a detective assigned to the Violent Crimes section of the local police. Dan spoke clearly and deliberately, maintaining a soft and empathetic tone. He did not mix words, and his message was delivered within seconds.
“Early this morning, officers and paramedics responded to a 9-1-1 call at 2520 Oakwood. The homeowner said an unknown male broke into the residence, climbed up to the roof and jumped off. Your brother Adam was found deceased in the backyard. I’m so sorry.”
Her head was spinning. 2520 Oakwood. Her childhood home. The home she lived in and grew up in. The home she lived in when she got her first fluffy, Monica. The home where she first decided she wanted to work with fluffies for a career. The home her brother had jumped off of on that fateful and terrible afternoon. The home her parents had sold to afford his full-time custodial care.
The painful memories came back to her. The meeting at the kitchen table when her mom and dad told her they were selling their home to pay for Adams’ care. She felt so selfish, not wanting to give up the large home in the gated community. But she understood that Adam needed help, and help wasn’t free. She put on a brave face as she and her parents moved into a two bedroom townhouse on the south side of town. Thankfully her mother offered to make the twice-daily long drive to her high school, so she could keep going to school with her friends.
She remembered the angry phone calls her father had with lawyers as Adam approached his eighteenth birthday. Adam was kept in a treatment facility against his will because Adam was a juvenile, and his parents were his legal guardians. When Adam turned 18, he would be able to make decisions regarding his care. Amanda’s parents had hired a team of lawyers. The goal was to secure a document known as a power of attorney which would allow Adam’s parents to continue to make decisions on his behalf. They had been so confident. Everything seemed so obvious.
Hubris.
A judge heard the civil proceedings on a sunny afternoon just a few weeks after Adam turned eighteen. Adam was doing so well in his psychiatric care facility. He hadn’t had an episode in over a year. He smiled at his parents and hugged his younger sister. He looked healthy. The treatment and the medications were working.
And they worked well enough for him to convince a judge that he should be allowed to live on his own. To have a job, rent an apartment, and live a normal life. The dread and heartache Amanda felt when her parents were denied power of attorney, and Adam checked himself out of his care facility, was the worst emotional pain she could have possibly fathomed.
Until now.
Amanda wept openly. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, face to the ground. She sucked in air as sobs repeatedly racked her, and her loud cries filled the room. Tears dripped from her face to the floor, and she watched them puddle on the dirty concrete floor. She sobbed for what felt like hours.
The numbness came quicker than she imagined. Her mind protected itself from having to fully process the situation. She wiped her eyes and looked up at Dan and asked him what happened.
Dan told her that it was a convoluted case, and he was still trying to work out the specific details. The city was on full alert after what appeared to be an explosive device was detonated at a school playground. This fear was compounded by several 9-1-1 calls from the surrounding county, all of which described a large rocket being launched from the woods. A makeshift campground was discovered in the state forest nearby. Deputies that found the campground found a video camera setup on a tripod, facing a bloodied section of razor wire. The camera was still on, and still recording. Video footage was reviewed and it showed a strange man pacing around for several hours, talking to himself while screaming at fluffies.
Amanda teared up once again, thinking of the friendly mare who missed her special friend and little baby.
Dan continued. A photograph of this unknown man was sent out to the media as a person of interest in the ongoing investigation regarding the “explosion". Shortly thereafter, in city limits, police were dispatched to a home invasion. A homeowner watched on his home security camera as a strange man kicked in his door and entered the residence. The strange man matched the description of the suspect seen on the news. Police arrived at the house and cleared it.
They found Adam deceased in the back yard, a dead fluffy stallion near his outstretched hand.
Amanda struggled helplessly to hold back tears. She didn’t want to think about her brother being scared and confused in his final moments. She wanted to comfort herself with the knowledge that he had finally found peace. That he wasn’t suffering anymore. A potent cocktail of guilt, shame, relief, and exhaustion coursed through her veins.
After a moment she looked up and met Dan’s eyes. Dan reached out and put his hand over hers.
“We found some stuff at the house. Your old house on Oakwood. I… I think you might want to see it.” He stood up and helped her to her feet. They walked out the front of the store and towards his plain looking sedan in the parking lot. He reached into the rear seat area and pulled out a nondescript folder. He handed it to her.
She found a note that was clearly handwritten by her brother. She read his nonsensical ramblings wherein he described constant harassment from the government, several major corporations and even a few celebrities. She once again felt a pang of sadness at the tortured life her brother lived.
About halfway through the note, her brother began to apologize. He apologized to anyone he may have hurt in his life. He apologized to the fluffies he had to hurt “in the unending journey for truth and transcendence”. He apologized to his friends, to his parents, and finally to his little sister Amanda.
Sis, I’m so sorry for all the bullshit. You were always there for me. You always believed me. You never thought I was crazy and you Always. Had. My. Back. I’ll miss you more than you’ll ever know. I have something I need you to take care of while I’m gone. It’s important, and I’m trusting you. You’re the only one I’ve ever trusted. I’ll see you again some day. Love, Adam.
As she was reading the note, Dan reached into his sedan and retrieved a small cardboard box. He told her this box had been found in the upstairs bedroom at her old house on Oakwood, next to the note she just read. The words “To: Amanda” were written on the outside. On the inside was a small slip of paper. And a fluffy foal. It was pure white, white fluff with a white mane and tail as well. It was a pegasus. A little filly foal.
Amanda read the note.
My name is Gabrielle. Please take good care of me.
THE END
