5 Chapter 5: Journey Home

Meg carried her bags into her apartment, exhausted from the day of travel.

“There has got to be an easier way to do this.”

She dropped the bags on her floor. All she wanted to do was shower and sleep, but it was the middle of the afternoon. Her body thought it was later in the day.

“That’s what being in another time zone does to you,” she said to her empty apartment.

Rationally it looked the same as when she left, but now it felt lonely. She blew out a breath, looking around. Never in her adult life had she wanted anyone to come home to. Her career had always been her lover.

Not that there hadn’t been men along the way, but they had been as committed to their careers as she was.

She rolled the biggest of the suitcases into her bedroom. “Might as well unpack.”

She pulled all of her dirty clothing out of the bag and put them into a basket. A trip to the laundry room had to be on her agenda. “I might have nothing to wear if I don’t. At least no underwear.”

Meg’s phone rang. “Hey, Col.”

“Did you just get in? I wasn’t sure when you’d be home.”

Meg sat on the bed, her laundry forgotten. Her body sighed at the idea that she would be sleeping in her bed tonight. She wanted to flop back onto the comforter, but she’d be out in seconds.

“I’m home. Only a few minutes.”

“Oh. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Meg said.

Colleen Connelly and their third friend Fiona Brady had bonded during Meg’s freshman year in college. Colleen had been a sophomore and Fiona a junior. They’d stayed friends through graduation, various boyfriends, and jobs. They understood each other’s workaholic ways.

“Fi and I are getting together tonight. You want to join?”

Meg blew out another exhausted breath. “Not sure I’m up for it tonight.”

“That’s what I told Fi, but she insisted,” Colleen said.

“I’d love to see you guys tomorrow for lunch. I have news.”

“Good news?” Colleen said.

“Sadly not.”

“Then you must come out tonight.”

“Sorry Col, I can’t. I have to do laundry and get ready for a day at work tomorrow. I haven’t been in the office for two weeks,” Meg said.

Her body wanted to sleep so she stood then strode out to get the rest of her bags. Her purse seemed heavy. Why hadn’t she noticed that before?

She set it on the bed and opened it. She let out a giggle when the weight was revealed to be a gargoyle.

“What’s so funny?” Colleen said.

“I have a gargoyle in my purse.”

“One of those ugly things on Notre Dame?”

“Well, this one looks like one on a church I visited on the West Coast of Ireland.” She turned it over a few times.

“Did you buy it? Send me a pic.”

“I don’t remember buying it nor even seeing them on sale anywhere.” Puzzled, she set the gargoyle on her nightstand. “I’m just jetlagged. That’s all. I’ll recall it in the morning.”

She snapped a picture, sending it to Colleen.

“It’s hideous!”

Meg giggled again. “So lunch tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Usual spot.”

Meg disconnected. It was always good to hear from her friends. They’d helped each other through many things and the girls would give her a perspective on the boss change that she couldn’t currently understand.

She spun around then crossed her legs while staring at the gargoyle. “You do look exactly like the one on the church.”

The gargoyle didn’t answer. She cocked her head. “I can imagine me buying you because you three were such nice listeners. I just do not remember doing it. That is odd, but this travel stuff is tough on the body.”

The cold stone statue lay on her bed.

“So what do you think of my boss change? I wanted that job. I deserve that job. I didn’t even mind not traveling so much,” Meg said.

She took a good look at the carved stone. The gargoyle didn’t look at her. It stared at a space in front of it, it’s grotesquely muscular legs bent as if squatting down. Its wings were folded behind it in rest. Sharp teeth reached out of a mouth that scowled. “What would you look like before takeoff?”

She smacked her forehead. “I’ve got to get some laundry done. I can’t sit here talking to an inanimate object.”

Gathering her basket, she rushed out of the room.

***

As Meg lay sleeping, Donal limbs came alive. His stone skin turned to scales. His legs lengthened slightly as he stepped onto the floor. His fangs nudged their way out. He couldn’t wait until he could spread his wings, but he couldn’t in her bedroom. He’d break something and wake her up. His gargoyle height was not as tall as his human form, but he could still touch the ceiling if he tried.

He let out the first breath he’d taken in too long a time. His muscles were stiff, but he could walk that off. Or so he thought and hoped.

He was in true gargoyle form. The way that artists had portrayed them for centuries. His wings longed to stretch out. He wanted to fly as high as he could in celebration of not only being animated but in finding the fairy he was supposed to protect.

For most of his existence he’d been waiting for this. He wouldn’t let her down.

But he had a few logistical problems to work out. He needed to tuck away his wings, but he doubted they would cooperate until he’d exercised them.

Meg murmured in her sleep. Donal’s heart sped up. He needed to get out of there before she saw his wings. Or his gargoyle face.

And he needed some clothing. Tiptoeing to her closet, he searched for something he could wear. The only thing that he found that would fit were pink sweatpants. They would have to do.

As he reached the door, Meg murmured again. With a glance back, he opened her bedroom door. It creaked, but she didn’t seem to wake from the noise.

“Hm?” she said.

Or did she? He closed the door on her words. Racing out of the apartment he found the stairs to the roof. He let his wings unfurl completely.

When he looked at his pants he realized they said, “Juicy” on the back.

“That won’t do.”

He studied the street, but no one was looking up and most of the apartments were dark. No one would see him.

He let his wings unfurl and flap, taking off from the roof. The first soar in centuries warmed his heart. He couldn’t be gone for long. She’d wake up at some point and he’d need to be back in stone form. Assuming he could get back to it. If not, he’d find another way to be close to her.

That was a problem for the morning.

Now, he needed some clothing.

***

When Donal returned to Meg’s apartment building he had some clothing. He tucked away his wings then attempted to go back to stone form.

“Shite,” he said.

He couldn’t return to stone form. He’d assumed he could. He crouched down on the roof to ponder this, but he didn’t have much time. The sun was about to peek over the horizon. Meg would be awake. She’d notice the absence of the stone statue unless she was suddenly struck blind.

He hadn’t planned on this at all. He’d planned on sneaking back into her bedroom but he couldn’t do that as a grown man. He didn’t remember the queen telling them anything about what would happen once they were reanimated.

Colleen would be expecting a stone statue. He was far from that.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He’d been so engrossed in his problem, he didn’t notice the shabbily dressed man also on the roof.

“Hey. Did I just see you fly up here?”