Raven and the Dancing Tiger (2 page)

"Are you going to the social dance tomorrow?" Peter asked as they started walking again.

"
Naw
, my cousins are in town. I have to entertain them for the rest of the weekend. And they don't dance," Tamara said, making a face. "Any ideas about what to do with them?"

"Museum?" Peter guessed. He gestured to the clothing shop they passed. "Shopping?"

Cai thought again of blue skies.

"Helicopter tour of the city? Hiking in the mountains? Or the Space Needle?"

Tamara laughed and shook her head. "Only you."

"Only me, what?" Peter asked, puzzled.

"You like high places," Tamara said. "You always talk about the mountains or plane rides."

"Oh," Peter said, feeling as unsettled as Cai. It was something he was going to have to watch.

Fit in. Be human
.

A black cat suddenly meowed at them from the top of an electrical box next to the light. Peter jumped and bumped into Tamara.

Cai puffed his feathers up more.

"I don't like cats, either," Tamara told him.

Cat. Cat. Cat
,
Cai kept chanting.

"I know," Peter said. "Always sneaking up and surprising you."

Tamara looked at him funny but didn't say anything. When they got to the next corner, Tamara stopped and said, "This is where I turn off."

"Can I walk you home?" Peter asked.

"No," Tamara said, shaking her head.

"Okay," Peter said, surprised to be cut off so abruptly.

"It's not you, it's me," she assured him. "I'm just really private about where I live."

Peter nodded, not understanding. "So—can I ask you out again?"

"Wait, this was a date?" Tamara asked with a sly grin.

"Yes?" Peter asked. He'd called her and everything.

Wasn't it a date? When Tamara didn't say anything more, Peter asked again.

"Would you like to go out on another date? With me?"

"With you?" Tamara teased. Then she turned serious. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Peter nodded, though Cai shook his beak at him.

"All right," Tamara said, looking puzzled. "Call me." After a pause, she added, "You can take me out for Indian."

"So maybe it'll be our first official date, since we'll both know we're on a date, next time," Peter babbled.

Tamara laughed and shook her head.

Peter got another hug, a quick embrace before Tamara turned to go. He shivered against her warm body; she was so much warmer than he was.

On the walk back home, Peter remembered the funny bits of conversation from their dinner, playing them through his head. Tamara had been teasing and charming and he hadn't stumbled over his own tongue too badly. His human soul felt warm and happy.

His raven soul kept chanting
Cat
and sending him images of the glass marbles.

Peter turned his thoughts toward Cai, settling him as much as he could, putting his own happiness to the side, still uncertain what was wrong. He checked the weather on his phone: It was supposed to be warm and sunny tomorrow, and he didn't have to work.

Blue skies
he promised Cai.

It didn't feel like enough.

* * *

Peter got a
Zipcar
and drove high up into the mountains early the next morning. He drove with the sedan windows open so they could both smell the fresh air. It had been hard that winter; so much rain had meant not as many trips, not so much flying for Cai. Many of the trees weren't yet budding, but the evergreens provided good cover.

Though the terms of service for all
Zipcars
stated that the renter couldn't take the car off-road, Peter turned up the dirt trail without a twinge of guilt. Cai needed this.

It didn't take long to get to their favorite spot, high in the mountain pass, the car hidden on a desolate stretch, camouflaged by bushes on either side. Peter stripped quickly, even tossing his shoes into the car before slamming the door.

Shivering in the cold mountain air, Peter stepped into the sunlight, arms spread wide, face lifted.

Come
.

Cai didn't need a second invitation. The raven soul surged forward, sprouting feathers, wings, beak, and claws, launching into the air mid-change.

Peter folded himself up, tucking himself away as Cai took off.

Peter never remembered much on these trips. Today it felt like they swam through rich blue sky, basking in sunlight and cruising on thick winds. Sunlight glinted off the higher peaks. Cai stuck to the valleys, spiraling on thermals and singing to the spring.

Peter came back sitting on the roof of the car. "Cai," he muttered. His raven soul knew better.

The flight hadn't been enough.

Peter dressed quickly, chilled in the afternoon breezes. He blasted the heat as they started down the mountain. He poked at his raven soul.

Blue skies?

Cat.

Then Cai curled up further on himself and Peter drove the rest of the way home alone.

* * *

Peter hefted his shopping bags higher on his shoulders as he walked off the main drag, Broadway, and onto the quieter neighborhood street. Though it was a bit out of his way, he preferred to walk the side streets, away from the homeless kids shamelessly begging, the construction, and the traffic on the main streets.

The afternoon was cool, with long shadows already reaching out from the old houses. Peter stopped just past the corner, in front of the courtyard of an old apartment building, and changed the bags around, switching the heavier one he'd been carrying with his right to his left. Just as he was about to go, he heard someone behind him.

Tamara was talking on the phone as she crossed the street, laughing.

Peter's heart warmed, though Cai didn't seem happy to see her.

She turned down the street, walking toward Peter. She seemed startled to see him, and quickly ended her phone call.

"So you found me," she said as she came up.

"Huh?" Peter asked, then pressed his lips together.
So smooth, Romeo.

"What, did you follow me?" Tamara asked, angry now, indicating the apartment buildings.

"Wait, you live here? Really? I didn't know, I swear," Peter said. "I was just walking home from the store." He hefted his bags at her. "With my groceries."

"You weren't waiting here for me?" Tamara said, eyes narrowed, still glaring.

"No! I wasn't! I swear!" Peter assured her.

Cai grumbled louder, pushing forward images of
nest
,
home
.

"Look, I know you said you were sensitive about where you lived. I'm sorry. I really wasn't trying to find out," Peter added. "I
gotta
get going before the ice cream melts. I'll see you later."

After Peter had turned to go, Tamara asked, "Did you buy dinner?"

Peter looked over his shoulder at her. "Nope." Hope pounded in his chest. Maybe he hadn't screwed everything up completely.

"
Wanna
take me out for Indian food?"

"Sure!" Peter said enthusiastically. "Should I pick you up here?"

Tamara stilled at that. "Okay," she said after a pause. "6:30?"

"I'll—I'll be back then. See you."

"
Laters
."

Peter picked up the pace as he started walking home again.

Cai sent the image of marbles.

"Later," Peter said.

Marbles.

After food.

Cat
.

"There's no cat," Peter mumbled, rolling his eyes.

After Peter got back to his apartment and put away his groceries, he went and got the bowl of marbles and rolled them, one by one, through the late afternoon sunshine. The light refracted off the centers, and bright splinters danced around the room. Cai cawed and swung Peter's head around, following them.

But then Cai made Peter pick one up and rub it between his fingers.

Shiny. Smooth.

Hard
, came Cai's response.
Cold
.

Shiny
, Peter said, rolling it through the sunshine.

Cai fluffed up his feathers and retreated again.

* * *

Peter had expected Tamara to be waiting for him outside her apartment building, but she invited him upstairs when he rang the door buzzer. Her building was nicer than his: The front entranceway had a chandelier and marble floors, and taking up one entire wall was an old photograph of the building, from 1909, when it had just been built.

The stairs going up were wide, covered in navy blue carpeting. The banister gleamed as if it had just been polished, and smelled like lemon oil. Tamara's hallway had huge ceilings and showed a bit more wear from people moving in and out, a few scuffmarks on the ivory paint.

Tamara's apartment was like out of an old-fashioned movie. Rich red and blue drapes hung from the ceiling and were tacked up on the walls, like a tent. Fat pillows of all colors covered the couch, the floor, the chairs, and even the kitchen counter. Instead of lamps, votive candles burned on the table and along the windowsill, making the rooms seem even more closed-in. The smell of patchouli incense lingered in the humid air. Though it was as warm as Peter's apartment, he left his heavy leather jacket on.

"I'll be just a minute," Tamara told Peter, leaving him in the living room while she went into the back.

"I was thinking maybe we could go out dancing afterward," Peter called. "If you want to. Since it's our second date and all." He grinned.

Cai just buried himself further down, curling in on himself, turning his back toward Peter, as if he was mad about something.

Tamara came out after a moment. "You do realize that you and I, we can't be boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Why not?" Peter asked, startled.

Cai suddenly unfurled and stirred.

"You really are so young," Tamara commented.

"So?" Peter asked, stung. What did that have to do with anything?

Suddenly, Tamara was right there, in front of Peter. Peter stumbled back, tripping over the pillows. He caught at the fabric, feeling as trapped as a fly in a
spiderweb
.

"Don't you know, little boy?" Her voice was low and throaty. "My kind eat your kind."

She rumbled a deep growl and her eyes turned golden and cat-like.

Not shiny. Hard. Cold.

Peter squawked and slid to the side. "No!" He stumbled again, this time falling.

Claws swung and missed.

"Don't you want to dance, little boy? We're still going on our first date, right?" Tamara teased.

Cai crouched inside Peter, his feathers puffed up. The room had already lost its color.

"No," he croaked. He shivered, aligning himself further with his raven warrior soul, then slipped out of his leather jacket.

"And you know what my kind do to yours? We pluck out your eyes."

With a great screech, Peter launched himself forward. He'd already lost his hands to feathers. He batted at Tamara with one of those while kicking out hard with a foot, surprising her with a hit to her shin.

Then he kept running, throwing himself through the hard glass of the window and out into the night.

 
Petie squirmed, pulling on the car seat straps, trying to get a better look at the sky outside. He looked out the window on one side of the rental car, then the other, then the front again.

The sky went on
forever
, all blue and perfect. No buildings or trees stood in the way. Petie could follow it all the way down to where it touched the ground on all sides.

He'd never seen anything so pretty before.

Sometimes pillars of reddish rocks grew up out of the ground, blocking a piece of the sky, but Petie didn't mind. They looked like they were made from grown-up building blocks, all piled up, one barely balancing on top of another.

The air smelled different here, too, like dried grass and flowers. It smelled clean in a way Petie couldn't name, though he wanted to somehow dive up into it, bathe in that cool air.

A blue sign flashed by on the side of the road. Though it had been fast, Petie still proudly read it out loud.

"Rest are. Are-a."

"Area," Dad said from the front seat, directly in front of Petie.

"Area. Hey! Rest! Can we stop, Mom?"

Mom caught Petie's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Do you have to go potty?"

Petie shook his head. "No. I just—want to go." He waved his hand toward the window, the blue sky, all that
space
out there.

Wyoming was nothing like their home in Seattle.

"I don't know," Mom said. "Do you think you'll be able to get him back in the car?"

"Probably not," Dad said. "The change is too close."

Dad turned to face Petie. "Can you hold out for another hour, sport? Then you'll be able to run around all you want."

"Maybe," Petie said. He could wait, but he really didn't want to.

"Less than an hour," Mom promised.

Petie sighed. "Okay."

Next to the rest area exit stood a huge orange block with a creepy, carved head sticking out of it. "What's that?" Petie asked, staring as they drove past. The face had lips that curled back, as if he was growling.

"That's Lincoln," Dad said.

"He looks mean," Petie said, no longer looking to the side. He was glad they hadn't stopped at the rest stop—that Lincoln had scared him. Though he still really wanted to get out, under that sky.

The road turned at the statue and now they went downhill, the sides of rock cutting off the beautiful blue sky.

They drove quickly through the town at the bottom of the hill, then they were out in the open again. Soon Mom turned off the main highway, onto a skinnier road.

"Heading north," Dad told Petie. "We'll be there soon."

Petie wondered why his voice was so rough. He knew they were going to the place Dad had spent a lot of time growing up. None of the boys or girls he'd known would be there, just the buildings and maybe some of the teachers.

"Okay," Petie said. To the right side now grew a huge white cliff, cutting off the sky. It still looked like it would be fun to climb on. To the left everything stayed open; no rocks, no trees, just fields and sky. Petie wanted to get lost there.