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Wings.
    She called them wings. Not capes at all. Maybe I was a part of some
twisted science experiment to see if humans could fly. I felt sick. Marie
reentered while I was thinking myself into a giant, bottomless hole.
    “Would you like me to draw you a bath?” She asked quietly.
    I should have said no, but the prospect of getting all this dirt off
my skin was just too good. I nodded. Walking over to the bathtub, she turned an
assortment of knobs until water was pouring out the faucets.
     Marie then bustled over to the dresser and pulled out a pile of
clothes. She turned the water off, placed the clothes on top of the bed, and
left as quickly as she had entered. The water looked warmed and inviting, so I immediately
stripped down. At this point, I didn’t even question the fact that a bathtub
was on a plane.
    What was left of my bra I ripped all the way, and then slowly slid the
rest of it off my “wings.” What do I do with them while I was bathing? Let them
sit outside the tub? It didn’t look like they were coming off anytime soon.
Maybe they were spliced to my back like two pieces of a tree and were slowly
fusing together. Marie walked in while I was considering my predicament.
    Normally I was extremely modest, but right now with Marie I just
didn’t really care. Could be because of my new look, or maybe the way I treated
her earlier. She was carrying some shampoo, conditioner, and an assortment of
soaps.
    “They can get wet,” she told me. I must have given her a blank look,
because she continued, “Your wings.”
    “Oh.” She must think I’m a bimbo or something, thanks to my lack of
intelligent comments.
    “Thank you,” I said, and she looked up. “For everything, I mean.”  She
was the only person who had truly been kind to me since I was kidnapped.
    “We are just glad to have you with us,” Marie replied.
    “Why?” I asked, instantly on the hunt for more information. I was
going to just be blunt. What did she mean by ‘us’?
    Her eyes got larger as she spoke, giving her a deer in the headlights
look. “Because you are the last of your kind, and your kind is great.” She added
an extra emphasis on the word ‘great’ and nodded to enforce her words.
    “And what are you?” I asked her.
    “I’m simply common. Not like you, though. You are a folium,” She glanced
down, shy again. I heard that word earlier from the doctor.
    “Would you mind?” Marie asked me while retrieving a measuring tape
from the dresser.
    “Go
ahead,” I said, not seeing the harm in it.
    “Arms
up, please.”
    I
lifted my arms and Marie said, “35.”
    Marie
measured my waist and then hips and murmured, “23 and 36. Excellent.”
    “So
is that good?” I asked her, not wanting to sound vain.
    “It
is indeed. You’ll have a nice man in no time!” she said with a wink.
    My stomach lurched with fear, and Marie must have noticed because she exited
to leave me to my own thoughts for a while.
    Before the door shut, I asked, “Marie? Is my leukemia fixed? Is it
really gone?”
    “Yes, ma’am. It really is.” She smiled and clicked the door shut
behind her.
    Completely numb with shock and disbelief, I eased myself into the tub.
It felt strange to feel things through the cape-wings, like the
temperature of the water. I now had a whole new section of nerves on my body,
and I wasn’t even used to my improved senses yet.
    The cool water felt heavenly. How did she know I didn’t taking hot
baths? To my growing amazement, my arms were flawless and bruise-free. Let’s
just add more questions to the massive pile. I began to sort through all the recent
events to chart a new course of action.
    Which facts that I had been told today were true, and which were they lying
about?
    Fact: I was taken unwillingly from my home while my aunt just sat
there and watched. I was drugged and taken to a base on the Smokey Mountains.
    Fact: I was on an airplane, and we were going somewhere . Since
I hadn’t looked out a window since