Quail's Song

Bathroom walls leak black ink; stumbling into unwanted tattoos. So many scars cover it that the true identity was not decipherable from its original form. I wonder how my eyes managed to fall on the one bathroom phone number with the most meager scrawl. Those jagged lines were calling to me; seducing me to memorize each stroke.1

Rapt with insatiable curiosity I quickly save the number in my contacts bouncing back to my waitressing job. My ponytail tantalizes my neck keeping me from drifting too far off into wondering how my prank call will go.2

“Hey see you tomorrow Kari,” a chef calls out as I leave the remnants of a dish he made for me.3

“Joy,” was all I could reply.4

His smirk grew, “hey they don’t even need to pay you! Your compensation is getting to see this hot body every day!”5

It was a Wednesday night and surprisingly this particular college night hadn’t been filled up with some activity…well besides homework. 6

“Just a few minutes,” I thought as my mind started to drift onto the chemistry equations I still needed to balance. 7

With a few swift strokes of those surreally blue numbers led me to an unexpected emotion, anxiety. I had done these before prank calls. Hey maybe not by myself, but what difference does it make? Better than obsessing over a few trivial atoms. 8

“Melody!” an elated husky voice called through the receiver.9

I played along, “well do you have something to say for yourself?”10

“Why do you do this to me? I was about to go over the edge. Over and splat!” he recounted clearly drunk.11

“What stopped you?” My snooping showed.12

“You. I knew you would call. You belong to me.”13

“Excuse me?”14

“Still nothing? Well it will come soon enough.”15

“Right…well I better go.”16

“See you tonight.”17

Dial tone…18

“Of course I managed to find the creeper,” I thought to myself as I now was all too eager to hit the books and stay inside tonight.19

Melody…why did that sound familiar? My mind drifted as the stench of old grease invaded my nostrils. Shower right. I hoped I wouldn’t have to jump out of them today because some girl has to flush. 20

Mist envelopes me as I greet it with zeal. It was the only time my mind could let the mist manifest itself and clear my head of everything. It always lifts too soon and demands independence prematurely. 21

I slip into sweats and a t-shirt as I check my phone which surprisingly enough had not fused into my hand with as much as I use it. My eyes glance over a missed call from New York with no voicemail. How do telemarketers get my cell phone number?22

The grungy bathroom walls transform into a human shape as the tattoos swiftly follow. The indecipherable numbers transform into a quail on the right shoulder. The face flickered with features for a moment, but the quail started to bubble and the skin melted.23

I take a deep breath in catching the scent of old borrowed books as my eyes start to focus on letters and numbers. My desk. I get up stiff from the awkward position I fell asleep in and a sudden and dire urgency consumed me. My adrenaline pumped and I sprinted through the unkempt hallways racing toward my car in the crowded parking lot. 24

I sped down twisted roads I have never been on before, but felt perfectly certain at which way I would turn. Reason had long abandoned me that my classes would only start in a few more hours and there was no reason to be driving so recklessly to nowhere in the middle of the night. 25

“I have to get there,” I kept telling myself.26

My tires shriek agonized and relieved not to be kissing the pavement in such a frantic matter. A long driveway led up to a seemingly lifeless house barely tucked into the woods. I check my phone, five in the morning. I pound on the door awakening every nerve in my fists failing to consider I probably should be arrested for such rash behavior. 27

The storm door creaked revealing a middle aged man with tears welling up in his eyes. He wrapped his strong arms around me as I peered over his should through a white threadbare undershirt as that tattoo quail tried to peak as it’s song was stifled, but still audible.28

“Mel you came,” he sighed into my auburn hair.29

My arms wrap around him as I nestle perfectly into the strangers familiar body. I felt as though someone threw me onto the ground as the words passed my lips, “Daddy.”30

“You remember…finally you remember,” he moaned, “I’m sorry that I could not protect you. About all of what you lost. Don’t worry honey it will come back…it already is.”31

Most of what he said confused me, but it didn’t matter. I felt the part of me that could not rest and was always searching stop. A bird’s song filled the early morning air. It was so close…was it from beneath that worn shirt?32