Metamorphosis

Edrie looked around at the guest bedroom in disgust. Baskets of half finished knitting projects, paint supplies, tins full of buttons, and so many books…

She hadn’t expected visitors, but her ability to say no under pressure was sorely lacking.

Marge from the office slid into her cubicle this morning, with desperation in her eyes. “Ed, I need a favor. I know, I KNOW, the timing is bad.”

Edrie had sighed and put down her coffee. She immediately picked it back up and took a huge gulp. Whatever this was would require energy, she could tell.

“It’s my sister. The one I told you about? The flake? She’s on her way here. Something about a breakup. But I don’t have any space for her, and I know it’s almost Christmas, but you have that whole extra room…” Both of Marge’s eyebrows raised at the same time, as if sending a plea directly into Ed’s brain.

And somehow, here we were. Cleaning a room she hardly used for a visitor she didn’t want. She was NOT going to be a counselor for this girl. She’d heard the stories, gossip from Marge about the jobs taken and abandoned, the rocky relationships and the money troubles. She was not a fixer. The girl could have the room, but that’s where the obligations ended.

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Edrie opened the front door and stood there, stunned. The girl was beautiful. Her hair was golden, with reddish highlights that were only visible when the sun hit it the right way. The girl smiled awkwardly and held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Phoebe!” Her nails were painted bright red, and matched the sweater that had to be at least 2 sizes too big for her.

Edrie regained her composure.

“Come in! You can call me Ed. Do you have bags or anything? I can help…”

Phoebe shook her head, walking forward into the house. “Nope, just me. I’m all I need!”

Ed did not understand, but nodded anyway and gestured down the hall. “Let me show you the room”

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The girl flopped down on the bed, and stretched out. “Do you mind if I just take a nap? I’ve got a lot of stuff on my mind.” Ed was glad to retreat, small talk wasn’t her thing. She closed the door behind her and went to check the fridge. Sighing, she grabbed her keys and muttered “I’ll be back in a few!” even though she was positive the girl wouldn’t hear her through the door.

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The girl took a lot of walks. Ed kept finding twigs and leaves inside the front door. She sighed and grabbed the broom, promising that she would accept no more unplanned guests again, no matter how guilty she felt.

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One evening, Ed walked by the partially open bedroom door and saw Phoebe frantically writing in a notebook, the pen skating along the page, it’s flow interrupted by scribbles and a slight shake of her head.

Ed had offered the girl the use of anything in the living room, and almost immediately she noticed a spiral bound notebook, a pen and a candle disappeared into the guest room.

The girl was obviously purging something. The less Ed had to hear about it, the better.

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Ed arrived home to the aroma of incense and a kind of burnt toast smell. Great. She already had a headache, and this wouldn’t help. She sighed and called out “Hello? Everything ok?”

She heard a commotion in the guest room, a stifled voice answering “Yeah, all good. Don’t worry!”

Ed exhaled and got a wine glass out of the dishwasher. So far, she had avoided having to hear too many gory details about whatever this breakup had been about. The most she could get out of Phoebe was a sort of New Age-ey explanation of “I’ve figured it all out. I know what I’m here for! It all makes sense now!”

Ed had nodded, and poured more wine. She had tried to meditate once. She spent the whole time thinking about the project at work, the back deck needing repairs, whether she needed to make an appointment to see her chiropractor. Needless to say, she didn’t keep at it.

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On Christmas Eve, Ed tottered through the door, arms full of shopping bags. Every year she said she would start Christmas shopping earlier, and every year she didn’t. She dropped the bags to the carpet and stared straight ahead at the sliding glass door leading out back. A path of charred black footprints led in a sinuous route from the guest room towards the glass, a smell like burnt hair permeated the air. Bits of…what WAS that? Ripped cloth? FEATHERS? Ed was just squatting down to get a closer look when she saw movement out back.

“Phoebe? Is that you? Are you ok? Did something happen?” Ed moved toward the glass door, sliding it the rest of the way open.

Later on, Edrie tried to convince herself that she hadn’t seen what she saw. But she knew. She didn’t understand how or why, but she KNEW.

A human shape stood on the deck. The color of spent charcoal from the barbecue grill, dull and flat. But it wasn’t still, there was a fluttering inside it. How could a person be made of ash? Just as the thought passed, the shape swirled and expanded outward. The shape became a flurry of ashes, a rush of wind blowing on a campfire, the air hazy and grey around it. And then it was gone. A sticky black substance covered the slats of the deck.

Ed looked up to see a large bird flying overhead. Was it a bird? It was too big, out of place. And so bright. Red and orange tendrils flowed from its body. As it circled the yard, its wings resembled the swaying flames of lighters at a concert. Sparks fell to the grass and were extinguished with a hiss by the damp morning rain. It called, no, it sang, and Ed recognized it as the song Phoebe hummed to herself when she was busy at a task. The bird lifted it’s head upwards towards the open sky and it’s call became louder.

Ed was frozen, she didn’t understand what was happening. The bird (Phoebe?) glided towards her, so close she could feel the heat of a thousand suns. With one last song, it flapped its wings upward and flew away into the sky. Edrie stood staring until she couldn’t see it any longer. And then she stood some more. She thought somewhere in the distance she could still hear the phoenix sing.