A Night Out on the Town…
I was somewhat…uncomfortable, sitting there in the food court of a crowded mall; and yet, it still felt all too familiar to me. I was sitting by the windows, since it gave me a nice view of the sky. I thought that sitting by the window would make me feel at home with myself, as I sat there amongst other humans, in my human body. Two weeks ago, Madison suggested that I spend more time as a human, as an attempt to help bring me back to reality, and maybe convince me that I am, in fact, a human; despite the voices in my head that tell me otherwise. I mean, for the last five or six years I have succumbed to this belief that I was a red-tailed hawk, and I had no problem forgetting about that life I had left behind; a life of lies, murder, and parasites. But Madison seemed to think that it would work, so I gave it a shot.
I rented a room at a hotel a few blocks away from Madison Mackenzie's office building, not entirely certain of what I was about to do. When I walked up to the concierge's desk—shaking a bit as I walked, since I wasn't used to walking on two legs—I had to resist the urge to turn back, demorph into my real body, and fly back to my meadow. Even as I spoke I felt like I didn't belong. Not like anyone could really blame me; I've been sleeping in trees for as long as I can remember. And yet there I was, standing just over 6'0 in height, wearing the only pair of clothes that I owned—a pair of jeans and a top that I would wear for my sessions with Madison— about to request a room for the night.
"Alright…Mr. Fangor…is that how you pronounce it, Fang-or?" the concierge looked up at me, smiling kindly. I nodded in response, but said nothing. To be quite honest, I haven't gotten used to things like facial expressions, or using my mouth to speak rather than thought speak…again, you can't really blame me.
"Here's your room key," the concierge—Emily, according to her name tag—handed me the room key, still smiling kindly up at me. "I hope you enjoy your stay."
I walked away without thanking Emily, but that was just something I was used to by now; subtleties like "thank you" and "hello" weren't a specialty of mine. I never really felt the need to speak unless I was spoken to, and even then that was a rarity. I learned at an early age that few people acknowledge the new, awkward kid at school, and any time I tried to be friendly towards another person my age it was followed by a swirly or the cold shoulder. My time with the Animorphs helped me learn to connect with others, but that connection was affected tremendously after Rachel died. Emily may have thought that something like that was rude, but it's just the way I am. It's the way I've learned to live.
The room was actually pretty decent, and rather spacious. I've never been to a hotel room before, but I was rather impressed. It was located on the sixth floor, and there was a nice view of the city. As a hawk living in the meadow, I've never really learned to appreciate the pure beauty of the city at night; the lights from the many clubs and restaurants were simply dazzling, though I could have done without the constant noise. There was a bed large enough for a few people—though I was confident that there would only be one body sleeping on that mattress that night—with a few pillows—most of which were decorative— and a beautiful beige comforter.
Across from the bed was a handsome, and no doubt empty, armoire that dominated the room. To be honest, I could have lived without the presence of the armoire, it seemed to throw off the overall décor of the room; not that I was much of an expert. A lot of the furniture matched the colour of the armoire, but I thought that they were mostly used for decorative use than anything; the bench placed at the foot of the bed, the bed side table and the various lamps and mirrors placed around the room just seemed to take up space. It had nothing to do with the way the furniture had been placed or how it looked to me that felt off putting, it was really another one of those…hawk things; being a hawk most of the time, I had no use for things like lamps, mirrors and armoires.
When the sun started to set, I decided to head out and pick up some dinner. For me, going out to pick up dinner literally meant picking up dinner. I would fly around the meadow before the owls came out to hunt, and I would keep an eye out for any voles, shrews, mice or rats that might be scampering off to their holes and hideaways. I was top-dog in the meadow, the big-man on campus, so to speak. I rarely had to worry about somebody sneaking up from behind me or shoving my head into a toilet. And as long as I kept to my territory, I didn't have to worry about larger hawks or owls taking me down mid-flight. Most nights I was guaranteed to find a decent sized rodent to eat, but there have been a few nights when food was scarce.
I decided that it would be best for me to go out for dinner in my human body that night, like Madison suggested. I didn't have to worry about people recognizing me, since I've been away from the public eye for more than three years. Unlike Jake, Cassie and Marco, I never had to worry about the threat of paparazzi, and I didn't have thousands and thousands of fans to hassle me with their questions about when my next movie was coming out. As far as the world was concerned, Tobias the Animorph was dead. After all, hawks don't live nearly as long as humans.
I stayed away from the flashy five star restaurants, since I was almost flat out broke. The money I used to pay for the hotel wasn't acquired in the conventional way, and I only had enough to pay for a burger. Not that I was a picky eater. To be honest, a burger and a large Pepsi were far more appealing than seafood linguini or a large steak. A guy who spent a majority of his human life completely ignored by his "guardians" wasn't used to what most people considered to be fine dining. I'm a simple guy. Give me a burger, a shake…hell, even an above-average sized mouse, and I'm one happy camper.
The noise is what threw me off when I entered the mall, just a few blocks away from the hotel. And because this mall was located in a large city, it wouldn't close until eight o'clock at night, at least. I've spent years in obscurity, so the chitter chatter of passers-by wasn't exactly something I was accustomed to. I saw a lot of business men and retail buffs walking into and out of stores; probably some sears workers scoping out the competition. There were a lot of families shopping as well, but that didn't bother me; not anymore. I've gotten to a point in my life where it was futile to continue wishing that a family would somehow materialize out of thin air; I was no longer envious of little children receiving hugs from their parents.
But what really stopped me in my tracks was the teenagers. There were hundreds of them all around me, talking and laughing. And there were plenty more of them hanging around the food court. Teenagers working at places like Burger King and Taco Bell, teenagers sitting at every other table in sight. I wasn't that much older than a lot of the kids at the mall, but I still felt distant from them. I guess old habits die hard.
I stood in line in front of the Taco Bell, behind a couple of blonde girls, both of whom looked to be about thirteen. There were at least three other people, a large black woman and two white guys, standing in front of them, and they did not look as though they were together; meaning that I would be waiting for a while. It didn't help much that the thirteen year old girls were loud and…well, typical thirteen year old girls. I'm not one for eavesdropping, but their shrill voices made it difficult to tune out.
"…I swear to God, he said that he liked you!"
"Come on, Jenn." The other blonde girl said. "You cannot be serious."
"I swear to God!" the second blonde squealed. "I heard it from Billy, who heard it from Jake, who said Mark liked you."
Did she just say Marco, or Mark?
"Are you serious?" the girl named Jenn asked. "Sara, you'd better not be lying to me…"
"Excuse me," I said, suddenly. "The line's moving."
The two blondes turned around to face me and gave me one of those cold, scathing looks that reminded me a lot of the girls from my freshman year of high school. I thought that I recognized one of them…but I couldn't place her face.
"You look familiar," one of the blondes said to me. I couldn't tell if she was Sara or Jenn, but she seemed to recognize me. "Do I know you?"
"I doubt it." I mumbled. "I'm just another guy looking for something to eat. Are you two planning on moving any time soon?"
"No need to be rude," the shorter of the two said.
The girls placed their orders, but they didn't seem to be finished with me just yet.
"I am totally sure that we know each other." The taller blonde said, moving to the side and waiting for her meal.
"I'm not sure I know many thirteen year old girls." I mumbled. "Besides, I'm not from around here."
"Sir would you like to order something?" the European looking woman at the cashier asked.
"Um…sure…" I stammered. "I'll take the number six."
"Number six." She said, speaking into the small microphone in front of her. "Would you like a combo with that?"
"I am sure that I've seen you somewhere…" the blonde girl said. "In a picture…I'm almost 100% sure!"
"No combo…" I said, nervously. I practically threw a ten dollar bill at the woman before moving to the side to claim my order; all the while avoiding the eyes of the tall blonde girl with the blue eyes.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"I think your order is ready, little girl." I muttered, nodding towards the tray of food waiting on the counter. Reluctantly, the blondes picked up their food and walked away, very slowly. I was starting to get a bit nervous, thinking that she'd remember how she knew me. And once I got my number six, I made sure that I picked a table that was far, far away from the two girls.
I had barely touched my food, and I was tired of looking at the blackening sky. There's only so much of the night's sky that a guy can take. Some people would say that the sight of the stars in the sky is to die for, but I disagree; especially when the city lights block out most of the stars. Nothing beats the sight of the sky during the day.
I turned my head to see a group of six teenagers, and I suddenly found myself feeling very lonely. There were two girls, and four guys; all laughing, joking, and eating their burgers and salads. I found myself staring, in what could only be defined as awe, at the sight of them. They reminded me suspiciously of my friends and I, when we were teenagers. They looked almost identical to the Animorphs: a strong-looking, leader like Jake; a white girl, with a kind face that reminded me very much of Cassie; the cocky comedian that Marco would have been proud of; two guys who looked as though they had no business sitting with the rest of the group; and, of course, the gorgeous blonde…
Unable to stare at those kids any longer, I left my table and my number six taco and walked the lonely walk back to my hotel. Besides, it was time for me to demorph anyway. Somewhere on the way to my hotel, I decided that it would be a lot more productive for me to fly. And while there was no reason for me to demorph in an alley—what with the Yeerk war being over, and Andalites visiting Earth every once in a while—it felt almost natural that I morph in a place where nobody could see me. My clothes would be left behind a dumpster, but that wasn't really much of a concern for me. After all, hawks don't need clothing.
The changes were not unfamiliar to me. In fact, morphing was just another part of life for me by now. But that didn't make the process any more pleasant. To this day, I still have no idea of how to control the morphing process, and I doubt that I would ever make it look nearly as attractive as Cassie did, back in the day. There's something about the sound of your own bones crushing, your organs rearranging and feathers appearing where flesh once was that makes you cringe at the very sight of your body. But once the morphing stops, and you're inside a body that is so very different from your own…well, that's where the fun starts.
I took off from my place in the dumpster, finally at home with myself; back in the element I was destined for. The thermals were weak; not nearly as powerful as they would be during the day. And yet, I was content with what I had. I flew around the hotel a dozen times, screeching like the hawk I was. Occasionally, I would look down at the bright city beneath me, wondering if anyone had heard me. Maybe I was hoping that someone down there—maybe the two blondes, or those six kids who reminded me so much of my friends—would point up at the sight of the hawk circling the hotel, saying, Look, look; Tobias flies free! But nobody did. And really, who could blame them?