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Rated: GC · Book · Personal · #2296726
A story I finally wrote after having it in my head for several years.
#1050437 added June 2, 2023 at 4:44pm
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Chapter Five
He lay on the sofa with his feet on the armrest, reflecting on his childhood. He had spent his early years up to age nine always in constant fear. He believed that Jesus could and would come for all his believers at any moment. His parents repeatedly told him that if Jesus came and he had sinned but had not prayed and asked for Jesus's forgiveness, Tyler would not go to heaven. He would go to hell. At nine years old, Tyler had come to question if he even wanted to live with Jesus, thinking he sounded like a jerk. He was so tired of constantly praying dozens of times throughout every day of his young life. Not because he was such an awful sinner. Tyler was just unclear on what was a sin and what was not, so he felt if there was any chance he had sinned, he had to pray for forgiveness. He was getting older then and thinking more for himself and had just reached a point where he had questions. He just wanted to be able to talk to his mother about this. However, there would be no discussion after telling his mother that he was unsure he wanted to live with Jesus. She grabbed him, dragged him to the bathroom, and washed his mouth with soap. She hadn't even given him a chance to explain why he was thinking that way. He was unsure what was worse, being dragged to the bathroom and having to bite into that bar of Ivory Soap or realizing that he could never be honest with his mother again. Afterward, he walked down to the park at the end of their road. He sat on the bench under the tree; he would sometimes see vultures. He remembered he was feeling so lost and misunderstood. But then he looked to see Vulture nearby, watching over him again. He could not recall if it was just one or several, but seeing Vulture had always made him feel cared for and safe in a way that fearing Jesus had never given him.

Tyler woke up after a couple of hours. He boiled two eggs and had some bread. His body was aching in several places, but his back felt particularly painful. Sometimes it felt like he could break into tiny pieces. "It's time." he thought. "Tomorrow is the day."

Tyler walked out to the meadow, onto the view deck, and positioned the chaise to watch the vultures. He enjoyed watching their antics as they worked out food distribution amongst themselves. Like people, some were more aggressive, and some were more passive. He identified more with the passive vultures. Later in the afternoon, he went to the cabin and returned with the last roast he'd bought. He cut some strips and tried to toss them to the more passive birds. Of course, the aggressive birds just took them away. Mostly they were very wary of him and would keep their distance. All except Chip, of course, but even he kept some distance. He decided it wasn't up to him to solve the pecking order of this venue, so he cut the roast into several pieces and tossed them out into the meadow. He lay back on the chaise and dozed in and out for the rest of the afternoon. He awoke at one point to find Chip and two other vultures standing on the railing, drying their outstretched wings in the sun.

Chip sensed Tyler's movement and brought in his wings. Tyler just lay there while Chip walked along the railing a little closer. He gave Tyler that look with the tilted head. Tyler started to sit up, and Chip ran back along the fence. "It's okay, Chip. You're all I have left now. Thanks for being here." Tyler laid back down. He didn't want Chip to fly off. While lying there, it hit him that there was no reason to wait until tomorrow. He closed his eyes and thought about achievements, regrets, hurts, and loves throughout his lifetime. When he opened his eyes, Chip was still there on the rail with him. It was dusk, and the other vultures had mainly gone to roost in the trees, although a couple was still picking through the remains scattered about the meadow. As Tyler stood up, Chip made his way up the roosting tree.

Tyler began the walk to the cabin as darkness fell over the meadow. The moon was nearly full that night. At the edge of the field, he paused at the roosting tree and looked up. He could make out the vulture's silhouettes against the moonlit sky. He looked up, "Thanks for everything, Chip. See you in the morning. Let's fly."

He grabbed the wheelbarrow and pushed it to the cabin. Once inside, he gathered everything he would need at the meadow and placed it into the wheelbarrow.

He went back inside, grabbed his suitcase, removed the envelopes, and brought them to the kitchen table. There were three small envelopes addressed to Ben, Jill, and Neal. He included a check for $20,000 with Neals's letter to help him with school or whatever he might want to do with it. Wanting to compensate Henry for having to deal with his remains and the leftovers of roadkill, Tyler included $25,000 cash with Henry's letter. He placed them neatly out on the table.

Tyler was feeling surprisingly calm and relaxed. He stood there in the kitchen, entirely at peace with himself. After pulling his shirt off and removing his shoes and socks, Tyler dropped his pants to the floor along with his underwear. He stood there just as he had come into this world. He placed all his belongings neatly by the front door, put on his slippers, and stepped outside.

It was beautiful out, the moon low and casting enough light to see. The temperature was mild. Tyler noticed the feelings of pain he'd been having for days, although still present, were less intense. He pushed the wheelbarrow onto the meadow. The feel of the breeze on his naked body was so pleasing to him. Looking down the mountain, he could see a dim light where the sun had just finished setting on the coast. He turned and looked up at the roosting tree and smiled. He had pulled off his plan. He had never really felt that he was good at much. I mean not in a poor me kind of way, but it was always hard for him to achieve accomplishments and to succeed easily at many tasks. So the fact that he pulled this one off so well gave him the most incredible feeling of satisfaction.

Tyler spread out a towel and sat down. He pulled the mask over his head, adjusting it to fit him well, and lay down on his back. He closed his eyes, reached for the helium tank's regulator, and slowly turned the valve. Tyler breathed in slowly and deeply.

Chip looked down at Tyler in the early morning light as he lay still in the meadow below. He moved away from the other vultures and spread his wings in the morning breeze. Bringing his wings in, he dropped from the tree and spread his wings again as he glided down to the meadow. He could smell Tyler's death. Chip hopped onto Tyler's stomach and stood on his chest, looking at his half-open eyes. Chip knew his purpose for being there.

Though adjusting to his death, Tyler sensed Chip's gentle caring presence. He felt no pain, just a tranquil lightness in his spirit. He knew he was getting ready to go to the next stage of his being, and he felt at ease with no fear or regrets.

As Chip spread his wings and took flight, Tyler glimpsed down to see his body appearing as a six-year-old boy. As he felt the power in Chip's wings thrusting them higher, he watched the mountain and the meadows slowly disappear. Just like that first time, flying with Vulture was the most free and wonderful feeling Tyler had ever known.
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