Chapter Fourteen: Declaration of Career
Bea didn't see or hear from her friend for the few days that remained in the summer break from school. Her brother, Steven, was home for meals and Bea could tell that he was really trying to talk more to her. It was strange to see him act so nice and rather than improving her mood, it made Bea more upset. Bea kept busy with flying practice and often found herself glancing in the direction of Catherine's house when it wasn't her turn to fly. She wondered if Curtis had returned yet and was tempted to walk over and ask to see Catherine, but Bea knew that she wasn't welcome and decided it best to wait things out.
Bea's parents had spoken to her when she had returned that evening from being at the Royce's. Her father hadn't said much, but her mother had asked what had happened and then told her that there was nothing to worry about. She tried to assure Bea that Curtis would be back soon and that it was just routine and Curtis had broken the rules after all so it was to be expected. Bea didn't know how to explain to herself, let alone her mother, that the thing that was really bothering her was not Curtis, but Catherine. She couldn't explain it, but she knew that Curtis would be OK. He knew before he made the wings what he was getting himself into.
Things with Catherine were different. Bea was angry. She couldn't stop thinking about how angry she was. Catherine had kept secrets from her, again. She had never even hinted that she liked Steven and then to have spent their last solstice on the island with her brother made her feel betrayed. The fact that Bea wound up alone with Curtis that evening stung. Bea couldn't help but feel that things kept breaking between her and her friend, and in Bea's mind it was all because Catherine continued keeping things from her. Bea's mind was full of so many thoughts that she found herself walking around in a daze of sorts. When she lay down to sleep at night her mind wondered to some other things that she hadn't allowed herself the time to think of, things like the solstice and Johnathan, and the sweet from the Zephyrs. The minute she would think of these things she would feel that familiar urge to call her friend or rush to her house and she would remember the icy way that Catherine had spoken to her last and Bea would find reason to be angry with her all over again.
It was the last evening of the break and Bea had just collapsed onto her bed. Her mind began to wonder and flit back and forth between thoughts of anger and misuse. She would have to face Catherine tomorrow and Bea couldn't decide if she was hopeful to see her friend or ready to attack. Bea's mind was so busy that she hadn't heard the faint knock on her door. Only when the knock became louder did she shake herself from her thoughts and go to open the door. To her great surprise it was her brother, Steven.
"Hey, there Bea," he said as he stood with his hands in his pockets. "Mind if I come in?"
"Sure . . ." Bea didn't know what to make of this. Steven had never asked to come into her room.
Steven turned to face his sister and said, "So, um, yeah, I'm leaving tonight."
"Oh, yeah, right, I suppose you are," Bea hadn't even thought about the fact that with the end of the break Steven would be returning to training.
"Yeah, so, listen, I know we don't talk much, and I was probably pretty mean to you when we were kids, but I was hoping we could, you know, be friends now that we are older." Steven had spoken so clearly and directly to Bea that it had caught her off guard. She just stared back at him trying to take in what he was saying.
Bea's stare seemed to make Steven falter a little in his determination and he shifted his weight as he continued. "You see, I know Catherine is your best friend. I am very serious about her . . ."
Bea's face wrinkled as he said this. Why was he sharing his feeling with her? Bea wanted the awkwardness to end as quickly as possible so she felt it best to simply nod along with what Steven said.
". . . And I know it would mean a lot to her if we got along a little better. So, yeah, let's try that OK?"
Bea nodded again and rather than Steven taking this as a confirmation he must have taken it as sign of something else because he continued, "You know, I don't really think it is cool for you to be mad at Catherine like this for so long just because of us."
Bea couldn't help herself. Steven's words forced a laugh out of her that she couldn't deny. "You think that is why things aren't good with her and I?" Bea asked incredulously.
"Well, yeah, I mean, isn't it?" Steven face was turning red. It made Bea laugh even more. "OK, fine, I get it, you're not mad about me and Catherine. Sorry I misjudged that one. You don't need to laugh so much."
Steven made to leave the room but without really thinking Bea grabbed his arm to keep him there. She wanted to make sure that at least one person fully understood what she was thinking so she focused her eyes on Steven as she spoke. "Listen. I was surprised. Catherine never told me anything. I'm mad at her for not telling me. And, yeah, I was a little disgusted at first, but hey if it makes you two happy that's cool. OK? I don't want you to get the wrong idea. There are other things going on here with her and I and you guys are just a small part of it."
Steven relaxed a little and said, "OK. I got it. Thanks for letting me know. I really think you guys will work things out. She talks about you a lot."
Hearing this from her brother was hard to process, but she was happy just the same to know that Catherine wasn't spending all of her free time complaining about Bea to Steven. The two of them stood staring around the room and not each other, not really knowing what to do with themselves, when Mrs. Featherstone walked down the hallway and into Bea's room. Steven seemed so relieved to have an excuse to leave that he just nodded goodbye and left. Bea was happy to be rid of him too. Talking to him was so incredibly awkward. Her mother looked at Bea and then the silhouette of Steven as he walked back to the kitchen.
"You guys OK?" she asked.
"Yeah, he just wanted to say he was leaving," Bea said as she sat down on her bed. She didn't know if she was supposed to talk to her mother about Steven and Catherine or not. But, luckily for her, her mother brought up the subject on her own.
"So, Steven and Catherine, huh? That must be weird," Mrs. Featherstone said with a smile. It was always so nice to talk with her mother. It made all the gloom and confusion of the past few days disappear just a bit.
"Well, you know, your dad and I are pretty happy. We really like Catherine and if things work out between them that would be pretty cool. Of course that is years and years from now, if it even comes to that, but you know they might be good for each other." Mrs. Featherstone was searching Bea for her reaction.
Bea knew that if she wanted to she could have a real talk with her mother about things, but she wasn't sure she was up to it. So many moments of the past few days had been consumed with her thinking about stuff that she wanted to move forward a bit and her mother was good for making her laugh so she said, "Yeah, but I can't help but think that Catherine got the short end of the deal."
Mrs. Featherstone laughed and she sat down next to Bea on her bed. She put her arm around her shoulder and gave a little squeeze and said, "Yeah, me too. But don't tell Steven I said that."
Mrs. Featherstone dropped her arm and looked at Bea and said, "You know what? We forgot something this break."
Bea was confused. What did she mean, they had forgotten something?
"We were supposed to talk to you about your 'declaration of career' thing. Do you have that paper you brought home from school?"
Bea had completely forgotten and it took her a few moments to find it hidden in one of her textbooks from school. She had folded it randomly and she tried to smooth it out as she sat back down next to her mother.
Since this was Bea's last year in prep school she would need to decide on her career choice. The summer break was meant to be a time to discuss possible options with your family so that you could return to school and spend the rest of the year preparing for your exams that would earn you entrance to the proper training school. Most of the kids at school had all been buzzing about this for most of the year and B
ea had usually turned a deaf ear to their conversations. Bea already knew what she was going to do. She had known since she was a little kid and after she bloomed when she was eight her plan had been set in stone. She wanted to be a flier like her mother. She smiled as she looked at the paper before her and was very relieved to know that this was not going to be a long and complicated process.
"Well, I guess I just check this box here, right? And then, what, we all need to sign down here I think," Bea pointed at the three spots at the bottom of the page for the signatures of her mother and father and herself.
Bea got up to grab a pen and sat down again but her mother stopped her. "Are you sure this is what you want to do? I am very happy to hear you want to be a flier like myself. I think you will do wonderfully. But there are other options and I wanted to make sure you have thought this through. "
Bea laughed a little at her mother and then said with a smile, "Yes mom, this is what I want to do." Bea got up and went over to her desk and checked the box next to flier and then signed her name below. Her mother signed as well and then Mrs. Featherstone called her husband into the room. Mr. Featherstone took the paper and pen and signed.
"Well, then you are all set for going into flier training at the Academy next year," Mrs. Featherstone said with a smile.
Mr. Featherstone nodded, laid the pen on the desk and smiled. "Of course the competition will be a big event for you. You need to perform well there to get the final acceptance from training. You make sure to keep up with your practice . . ." But Mr. Featherstone was interrupted by the sound of the pen rolling across her desk and then plopping into her trash can below. Mr. Featherstone gave a little laugh and mumbled something about the desk being at a funny angle as he bent down to retrieve the pen. But his laughter and speech stopped suddenly as he rose and Bea and her mother both looked to see what was wrong. Bea looked from his face to his hands and saw that the left over shell from the Zephyr's sweet sat awkwardly in his open palm. Bea caught her breath as she looked back up into her father's face.
Bea's eyes shifted nervously from the clump of chewed sweet to her father's face and then her mother's. All The happiness that had been present in the room disappeared and Bea felt her brain racing to put together words to speak.
Apparently Mrs. Featherstone didn't quite get what her husband was holding because she innocently asked, "What's that dear?"
Bea saw the anger rising in her father's face and her body flinched as she waited for what she knew would come.
"This? This is one of the sweets from the Zephyrs. Eaten! Empty!"
A look of understanding crossed Mrs. Featherstone's face and her father turned to Bea as he held the empty shell under Bea's nose and declared, "You ate it, didn't you?"
Bea couldn't bring herself to look her father directly in the eye. She just stared down at her feet, incapable of speech.
"Didn't you?" Mr. Featherstone asked again, this time clearly trying to gain control of his temper.
A small "yes" fell from Bea's lips.
Mr. Featherstone started pacing the room. It was clear that he didn't quite know what to do with himself and Bea was somewhat relieved to hear her mother take up the discussion, though she spoke only to Mr. Featherstone.
"It is going to be OK. I know you worry about this, but it is not that big of a deal."
"Not that big of a deal? This is always how it starts though. This stupid little thing and then the questions and then the rebellion and sometimes they stay . . ." Mr. Featherstone let his words trail off into mumbling and Bea felt any fear she had be completely displaced by confusion. What were her parents talking about?
Mrs. Featherstone got up and walked tentatively over to her husband. She drew out the chair at Bea's desk and gently pressed him into it. "It doesn't always work out that way and you know it. Think about it. This is Beatrice. You are just letting your anger at John get to you and make you more upset than you should be. "
Bea still felt confused and wanted to ask her mother what it was that they were talking about, but her mother had turned to her and said, "Now, that doesn't mean though that what she did is OK. You specifically told her many times, year after year, not to go to the Zephyr's stall. Why did you go Beatrice?"
Bea swallowed hard and then tried to force her voice out.
"I wound up there by accident after Johnathan had pulled me over the fire. Mrs. Zephyr just kind of forced it into my hand and then Catherine and Curtis found me and I stuck it in my pocket."
Mr. Featherstone had stood up again as he looked at Bea with an expression that Bea was surprised to see was one of pleading. Bea could hear her father trying to control his voice as he spoke, "But why did you eat it?"
"Yea, why did you eat it?" Mrs. Featherstone demanded.
Bea starred at her feet. It was incredibly nerve racking to have both of her parents interrogating her. They didn't usually gang up on her like this.
"I was worried about Curtis," Bea mumbled. She felt a pang of guilt at bringing up Curtis like this to try to get her parents to forgive her. But she was pleased to see that it had at least softened her mother's expression.
"I know you have had a rough couple of days . . ."
"But that does not mean it is OK to break our rules," Mr. Featherstone finished his wife's sentence for her and seemed to be speaking more to Mrs. Featherstone than her.
Mrs. Featherstone nodded and squeezed her husband's hand and spoke in a quiet voice, "It is probably a good time to just explain some things to her."
Mr. Featherstone gave such a pitiful defeated shrug in response that Bea could barely contain herself.
"What is going on? You act like I committed some terrible crime. All I did was eat some dumb sweet that wasn't all that amazing anyway." Bea's voice rang through the room and she shot glances back and forth between her mother and father, waiting for one of them to finally speak.
Mrs. Featherstone sat down next to Bea on the bed, cleared her throat and began. "We were going to save this speech for when you headed off to training in the big world because you will run into it more out there, but now is as good a time as any I suppose. You see there are more people that have the same beliefs as the Zephyrs. There are fairies that don't like the way we have changed our old ways to live up here on these islands. They want things to be like they were very long ago. And they think that in order to get back to the old ways we need to put all our energy into making our life like it was before and abandon the missions."
Bea heard her father whisper "idiots" under his breath as her mother took a moment to share a glance with him across the room. Even Bea felt a statement of disbelief rise in her throat. How could any fairy not want to do the missions?
Mrs. Featherstone continued, "They call themselves the Truth movement. They have been around for hundreds and hundreds of years. There are small groups of them all over the world on other islands. Their numbers change a lot. There is a base group of people that remain, but many of those who believe do not believe forever."
"Why? What do you mean?" Bea was trying to follow everything that her mother was telling her but there seemed to be lots of pieces missing.
Mrs. Featherstone smiled at her and went on. "Well, you see, the Truth movement tends to focus their energies on younger fairies, you know the ones that have just left school and are in training. They can be pretty impressive with their ideas and then all of this old food and dress. A lot of young fairies abandon their training and join the movement."
Now Mr. Featherstone joined in, "But, once a fairy leaves training, you don't get a second chance. And sooner or later the young fairies who left training to join, figure out how ridiculous it all is and they leave and try to go back to things, but the Ancients do not forgive so easily. The future for those who have joined the movement and then left is not, well, it's not as good as if those kids had just left the stupid movement alone."
Mrs. Featherstone nodded with her husband and then added, "So, that is why we don't want y
ou to be persuaded to join the movement. . . "
Bea finally understood what her parents were getting at and it stung. She jumped to her feet and stared hard at her mother and her father as she spoke, "How could you even think I would follow something so stupid? I have always wanted to be a flier. I really believe in what the missions do, and I would never go against that. "
Mrs. Featherstone stood up a little straighter and Bea recognized her expression of approval as she turned her gaze back to her husband. "I told you. You have nothing to worry about with Bea."
Bea heard her father mumble an apology as he shared a weak smile with her across the room. Bea couldn't help think that her father was being silly and felt a little sorry for him. She ran over and gave him a huge hug to let him know that everything was OK.