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Brood of a New Age

51.

Graziella was sitting on one of the wooden benches in the tropical plant-studded glass house of the Butterfly Vivarium at the American Museum of Natural History when Sonny found her. The butterflies fluttered around him like he was the most interesting thing they'd seen here in a long time, and he waved them away, annoyed.

"Geez, the adults drag us here so the others have something to do while it's raining and you find the only place in the whole museum that's even wetter and muggier than outside, Graziella."

"Really, it's still raining?"

"Outside, yes. In here, yes," Sonny grumbled, squatting down next to the girl.

"I thought caged animals depressed you."

"The dead animals in the rest of the museum even more so, though," she said, smiling because a bright green butterfly had just perched on Sonny's shoulder.

"Adorable," Sonny muttered. "Now that you've got the other kids under control and even my mom doesn't make me watch them anymore, we could be a little more chilled out. But you're still in such a lousy mood."

"I'm not in a bad mood at all. I just needed some quiet time to think. And here, the others have already come through and won't be raging around here like that."

"Not in this stifling pissing heat anyway. So what are you thinking about?"

"About love," the kid said, and Sonny jerked his head around to stare at her with a bulging upper lip raised in irritation.

"You're not even nine yet!" he said, knowing he sounded like one of the adults.

Graziella seemed to think it was absurd, too, because she laughed. But not very happily.

"What if someone knows a boy," she said cryptically, holding out her hand for a butterfly with ice-blue wing coloring to land on. "A very special boy. And this girl always feels so funny around him. And he is sometimes so sweet and then again so cool and more and more often she wishes it was different than it is and the boy wouldn't be quite so special."

Sonny gave a very long and tortured groan. He would never have expected something like that in his life. But at least she got that he was "special" and "different."

"Listen boss girl. No offense to you. You're mega cute, I can tell. But I just don't tick that way."

This time Graziella's explosively emitted laughter was so loud that it felt like all the butterflies around were bursting to life and fluttering indignantly around them. Sonny began to chuckle himself - just because of that hilarious, sporadic grunting laughter.

"What, was I wrong?"

"A million light years off!" she confirmed, rubbing her ribs, which must have hurt from the laughing fit.

"Well, I'm glad," Sonny admitted. Puffed again and shook his head.

"You don't know any other guys but me and the brats. Please don't tell me it's Alessio," he joked, and Graziella boxed him so hard it almost hurt even him a little. Almost. A little bit.

"Did you get the idea from the TV?"

"... Can be," she replied, "If you knew someone like that. Someone you ... maybe love but that person is your best friend in the world and actually you don't want anything to change and you kind of can't say anything about maybe loving him. What would you do?"

"Obviously. I'd keep my mouth shut. Until the other person tells me he loves me. On his own - without me pushing him to. And until then, I'd just enjoy his friendship. I think."

"And then?"

Sonny raised his head and looked at the rain-soaked glass of the glass house. Which was hard to tell if the water droplets were emblazoned on the glass from the outside or the inside. Where did Graziella get these thoughts? Probably it was true. Girls really had such an intense imagination. And in some respects they were much more advanced in their thinking than boys. And if they only speculated about some series or movie they had seen. How should he answer? Like a child of Graziella's age might answer? Like a girl would? Like a boy?

He just decided to answer like himself- what could an eight-year-old make of it?

"If this other person loves me - and I love this other person, I would make sure they never leave me again. I would tie that boy to me, make him realize that he doesn't need or want anyone but me."

"But ... what if the world was against you?"

"Oh man, Graziella. We're kids!"

"Just answer, Sonny," his boss commanded.

"If the world was against me I would shit on this world. I would do anything to change this world. To make it the way I need it to be so me and this other person could be together. We would create a new world together. One where we can be ourselves. Provided we are strong enough for it," he concluded more soberly. Sonny watched curiously as Graziella stared thoughtfully at what he had said, without really focusing her eyes on anything. He had known exactly that she would not be able to do something with his words.

.

.

Dante landed much more ungracefully than usual in the castle courtyard and immediately fell into his sister's arms - completely distraught and trembling. Not trembling with rage.

"Sister! Please," he gasped, and then held his hand in front of his beak, looking as if he had to fight against throwing up. Once again, a patrol had been cut short. But Broadway, who had just dropped off Bronx, whom he had been carrying, had not said what it was about. Only that Dante would not be operational tonight. More curious than alarmed, the others had interrupted their patrols.

There was not so much going on tonight anyway. There was a pause in the rain, but it was terribly humid and there were frequent showers. In the distance, the lightning of a thunderstorm was already twitching across the dark sky. This was not very tempting weather for humans - both good and bad. Grace patted the back of Dante's head. Why could hardly a night go by without her worrying about her brother? Why couldn't the other gargoyles either control him or keep an eye on him? He retched over her shoulder.

"We have to get out of here," he whispered as the others gathered around them.

"What's wrong with him? What-what did you guys do to him?" asked Luca.

"WE didn't do anything to him," Broadway exclaimed indignantly.

"I thought assigning you guys to Central Park would be hassle-free," said Goliath with a pitying look at the choking distraught gargoyle. Everyone knew the "dog-walking" tour in Central Park wasn't a difficult route. Purse snatchers, vandals, drug dealers- that was the worst thing to deal with there. The easiest thing in the world.

Hudson nodded solemnly.

"It was all good."

"Until you showed what you're really made of!" nagged Dante, pointing a shaky finger at all three of them. Broadway crossed his arms in a huff and rolled his eyes.

"Who's the nitpicker now?"

"What, if not about THAT should I be upset about!" snapped back the gray one.

"Now can one of you explain what happened?" demanded Katana to know, and Dante was too happy to fulfill the request of his favorite in the Manhattan Clan. He needed someone to be on his side. Neither Hudson nor Broadway even understood what they had done terribly wrong. Which meant they did this kind of thing all the time!

"They-THEY! They did-it's beyond description what they did. All three of them did it."

"What- what did they do?"

"They did- I can't tell you. Then I have to go back to-"

"I don't think there's anything left in you to puke out, drama queen," said Broadway snappily. "The garbage man who has to empty the trash can you relieved yourself in tomorrow needs therapy."

"Shut the fuck up! That you'd do something like that - I knew you would do that. But you, Hudson! And you!" He leaned toward Bronx, who glared defiantly at him from pupil-less eyes. "Bad woofwoof. Bah! Naughty beast. Isn't what you get here enough for you?"

Bronx growled at Dante, and Dante growled back. Hudson pulled him upright by the collar like a naughty hatchling.

"Laddie. Now get a hold of yourself. Every gargoyle is doing it."

Dante took a step away from everyone and gestured very gruffly as was Italian custom.

"The weird ones, maybe!"

"What, for Christ's sake? What have they done?" demanded Luca, who, unlike most gargoyles, had not yet grasped what it was all about. Those who had grasped it looked rather speechless, sometimes even amused.

"Those savages! Luca. Grace. They've- they've been eating rats."

"What?"

Grace's eyes grew wide.

"RATS, that's what I said. Now it's out!" Dante groaned in disgust and began to wander around the castle courtyard in an agitated state as he told the story. "Rats- all three of them! We were out in Central Park and it was SO dull. I think we were just there for the pooch to piss. And after ten minutes, this awesome attack dog comes barreling out of the underbrush with three fat rats in his mouth. And I thought - okay - someone in a former life was a cat. No problem. And he throws the rats in front of our feet, squats on his hind legs, wags his tail like a idiot and looks at me so expectantly. And these two bend down, pick up the rats - and bite into them! Into the middle of it. So really-" Dante gesturally imitated the bite.

Grace had never seen her naturally gray brother so chalky around the nose. But in the middle of his audience, someone began to laugh. A soft laugh in an angelic voice. Broadway began to chuckle as well and went to his mate, who patted his cheek affectionately. Even Coldstone and Coldfire laughed in a very lively yet mechanical way. The reawakened half-mechanical gargoyle turned to Goliath, who himself was trying to remain serious but whose corner of his mouth was twitching treacherously. Brooklyn grunted. "I thought in one of the previous patrols he'd seen something like this before. Apparently he hasn't. Should have known because there's been no drama about it so far."

"Actually, when a watchbeast brings you food, it's an attempt to show affection, or in your case, make friends," Goliath said understandingly, patting Bronx's head, which showed the dog version of a smile at that, complete with tongue hanging out of its maw.

Dante looked at the dog in horror. "First of all, that wasn't food. Second, no thank you," he said in disgust.

Dante made a nauseated and petulant face, stomped over to his sister and Luca, and grabbed both of them by the shoulders.

"Luca. Pack your bags. Grace - we - we can't stay here anymore. We can't live with these savages. What if rats won't be enough for them tomorrow?"

"We're not cannibals! Every gargoyle sometimes eats freshly caught prey!" argued Lexington - whom Dante had thought he could get along with two nights ago - with a wry grin.

"You guys are SICK!"

"It's a natural instinct you have to let out sometimes, lest you become -," Broadway snapped his fingers in Dante's direction,"-a frustrated idiot."

"I'll give you `frustrated idiot` in a minute, bacon ball!"

"Dante, stop it!" his sister said authoritatively.

"But Grace!"

"No. Dante. Brother. It's their culture. Their tradition. Their instinct. Call it what you will but stop reproaching them for what they have always done."

The gray Italian clicked his tongue in displeasure.

"Does everyone here do that? Everyone?"

Dante looked at Nashville. He nodded. Lexington did likewise. His last look - his last glimmer of hope on the horizon - went to Katana. Which gave him a pitying look. As if there was something wrong with HIM. It was a wordless confession.

Dante shook his head. He couldn't believe it. What had he gotten himself into?

"Grace. Let's go. We-we'll find something else."

"No, Dante."

"Don't be afraid. We can avoid the Quarrymen. We- Luca can book the flight back tomorrow."

Grace shoved him away.

"I don't WANT to leave here. This is where we belong!"

"Sister. You can't be comfortable here. Do you think I'm the only one who notices that you're always curled up in the chapel?!"

"It-it's not about feeling comfortable," she says quietly. "It's about fitting in. And the beginning is always hard. Always. But it will get better. It's already gotten better since the first few nights, hasn't it? WE have to change!"

Dante looked at his sister in horror.

"Oh, Dio. You too."

Grace pressed her lips together.

"It wasn't that bad," she said.

"How could you eat rats?"

"It was a squirrel, brother. It was nice to catch it and the fresh blood was delicious."

Dante whirled to Luca.

"Did you know about it? Did you know?" he asked.

Luca looked Dante firmly in the eyes. His thug face was hard but his gaze sad.

"She told me right away."

"And you don't find it-"

"WHAT was I supposed to say to that? I'm her friend, not her nutritionist. It's not my place to tell you or Grace what to do. And if all gargoyles do this. Why not her? Why not you?"

His sister came up to him and stroked his cheek, smiling.

"Brother. It-it takes some getting used to but if you stop to think about it-"

He shook off her hand. "I don't want to stop thinking about this kind of thing, Grace! We're Italians! We eat vitelo tonato andandand tiramisu but not little animals! Living twitchy little animals!"

Dante ruffled his hair breathing heavily as if facing a panic attack and Grace approached him and gently rubbed his arm.

"Dante. Tomorrow- will you come with me and Signora Katana?"

She looked to Nashville's mother and she nodded.

"And the three of us. We'll find you a little booty. Not a rat, not a pigeon. For starters, something pretty and manageable. Maybe a... a robin. Plucked from the nest while asleep. A single bite."

Dante pushed her away and stumbled backward without taking his eyes off the group standing in front of him. His face was so bitter, so desperate. As if he had just realized something that would change his life and the lives of those he loved forever. He shook his head in bewilderment and tried one last time.

"You can't be serious, can you?"

"It's no big deal."

"It is to me! And to YOU, too, actually! You want to fit in so badly that you forget who you are!"

"We are Gargoyles!"

"Not WHAT you are. Who you are! You are..."

Grace's features turned ice cold. So cold that Dante's next careless words froze in his throat. And left only a heavy lump.

"I- I can't do it. If you can- and you like it. Or at least you pretend to. Then okay. But I can't." He had approached the edge of the walkway, jumped onto the stony parapet there. Grace was immediately with him, grabbing him by the leg.

"Where are you going?"

"I-I need time to myself. Somewhere. But not here in this creepy castle with these-."

Dante's gaze flew over the assembled gargoyles. There were so many words on his tongue to describe and title them. But none was fully adequate for what he was feeling.

"It's dangerous out there, Dante," Goliath tried gently to reassure. "No one will ever force you to eat a living animal. If you don't have that urge, that's fine with us."

"It's fine with you guys? Lucky for me you tolerate me so much," Dante said sarcastically, and continued a little less caustically right after. "Goliath. I have a choice whether I might lose my life out there ... or my sanity here for sure," he said. He crouched down that he was again at eye level with his sister, who looked at him out of pleading eyes but would not come with him. He knew he could not force her. He didn't want to. If she wanted to lie to herself, she should.

"Grace," he said, and his words were basically just for her though he phrased them differently. "No one has to worry about me. No one has to look for me. I need a few days to get my distance and think about things. Will you let me do that? Please."

Her first impulse was to say no. She wanted to beg, she wanted to command him to stay. She was physically stronger than him, probably she could have forced him, tied him up in the castle dungeon if necessary, because he was putting himself in danger. But he had said please. Not in passing, not sarcastically. It was his request to her. He respected her decisions. She had to do the same.

"Yes. Okay, Dante. But ..." She pulled her phone from her back pocket. "Can you call me every two or three nights? Please."

He pocketed the phone. "Okay. Sure, I will, little sister."

"We're the same age, you blockhead."

"Not for me, you're not. Not for me, ever." He kissed her on the cheek and she gave him a fleeting hug.

He nodded to the group of barbarians. A roundhouse although he only meant Katana, Nashville and maybe Hudson and Lexington. Dante stood up and turned around, again standing tall on the pinnacle towering over everyone else.

"Luca," he said without turning around. "Take care of Grace. Take care of each other," he added. He was a stunning sight standing there so dignified and seemingly composed again, the wind pulling at his hair and wings, then letting the breeze sweep him forward and carry him away on red-gray wings with the speed of the wind. It was the coolest and most majestic flight any of them had ever seen.

"We can track him with the cell phone," Lexington offered quietly. Grace put a hand on his shoulder.

"Thanks Lexington. But he's right. My brother can take care of himself. The first time with the Quarrymen was an accident because he didn't know what to look for. He's more careful and crafty than he appears."

"So you're not worried much?" asked Nashville, and Grace stroked the cheek of the child who reminded her so much of her Dante.

"He's my brother. I worry about him all the time. But I respect him enough to give him the days he asked for."

"That's what clan is all about," Hudson said, and Grace strode past them as gracefully as her brother had just vanished. "It's not just clan Signor Hudson. It's family."

Luca followed her. "Grace. I'll come with you to the chapel. The prayer of half an atheist for Dante will surely be weighted twice by God. "

Grace smiled lovingly at him. And gladly accepted the arm Luca offered her.

Thanks for reading, Q.T.