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I can’t know—and might never know—if he’s alive, let alone anything else.
Maybe he still misses me. Maybe he’s moved on.
Maybe he would understand what I did with Axe, the mysterious man who straight up disappeared that night in the forest, never to be seen again. Maybe not.
Honestly, it all feels like a dream now.
My human life was a dream.
* * *
My owl lifeis what’s real and my owl is very happy when I sit down to my place at dinner later to find a lightly grilled rabbit prepared just for me.
I would have preferred it raw, but this is still very nice. Very thoughtful. And intensely delicious.
I take my time ripping bites from my food with my beak, watching my family celebrate my nephew and basking in their happy glow.
Even a year and a half after all the madness, I’m still so grateful for peace and happiness, and for these people who are my home.
* * *
After the cake and presents,after James is tucked into his crib and Willow’s parents and my father head back to their own apartments, Sunshine the cat and I sit together on the couch, watching Willow and Maxim slow dance to an old record.
Willow leans into his chest, his lips rest atop her head, and they move like they’re two halves of a whole, so in sync it’s hard to imagine that they were ever apart, let alone at odds.
They used to hate each other, I tell Sunshine again, because she’s high strung and has a hard time remembering stuff aside from all the things that have scared her in the past day or two.
Don’t believe you,she says, snuggling closer to my side. Mom and Dad are magic. And my very favorite humans.
Mine too, I coo, the warble in my chest making Sunshine start to purr the way it always does. But they still don’t believe I talk to you. They say house cats don’t talk.
Her eyes slant shut. Well, no one’s perfect. At least they’re pretty close.
Yeah, they are, I agree, pretty damned close.
* * *
I’m notsure when I fall asleep, but I wake in my brother’s arms as he tucks me into the nest I built for myself in my room. For a moment I remember being a human child and the memory is…not too bad.
“Night, trouble,” he says, stroking a finger over my head. “Sleep tight.”
I coo at him and close my eyes, deciding maybe it will be okay to be human again sometime soon. Maxim’s head pets are good, but his hugs are the very best.
And I suppose I have to finish growing up, sooner or later.
But not tonight.
Tonight, what I have is enough.
Far more than enough.
