8. What Ceremonies and Parties do I attend?
9. Can I lead a normal life?
10. How many Night Flyers are there?
I read the first question:
#1: What is happening to me?
You are in all probability a young teenager from a family of Night Flyers (except in very rare circumstances), and you have recently flown without mechanical assistance, which means that you have had your First Flight. You have therefore been identified by local authorities (see Mentor and Watcher entries, below) as a Night Flyer. Rest assured that you are normal in every way, except now you have the added ability of unaided flight.
This is going to be helpful, obviously. “Normal in every way,” sounds good to me, except I can already see that it’s going to lead to a lot more questions. I’m not from a family of Night Flyers, so apparently I’m a rare specimen right from the first sentence.
I scan a little. The answer to question five would have been useful a few days ago:
#5: How do I tell my friends?
In most cases, the Night Flyer need not tell anyone except family members and other Flyers about his or her new ability. The decision to tell non-flying friends and community members must be made very carefully, and often is not recommended. This is because in many, many unfortunate cases, non-flying prejudice has occurred. Extreme caution and restraint is advised, although there are no rules which forbid revealing the truth. Seek advice and wisdom from your Mentor.
I’m just not sure how much extreme caution I can manage. And Jez knows the truth, so that’s one strongly worded caution from the Flight Crew that I’ve already ignored. Not a great start, really.
I skip down to the entries about the Watcher and the Mentor.
#6: What is a Watcher?
One who watches, keeps watch, or is especially vigilant as a sentry or night guard. S/he is someone who is well-known to the Flyer, and who is constantly on the lookout for his or her First Flight, and continued welfare. The Watcher is generally a Flyer themselves, but this is not essential. The Watcher and Mentor must work together well. The Watcher must take an oath to Watch faithfully.
Is Mr. McGovern Everett McGillies the Third up to this job? An oath? The only oath that comes to mind when I think of Mr. McGillies is a not-very-nice swear word, which he tends to use a lot.
And watch faithfully? I suddenly wonder if the people in charge here have ever actually met Mr. McGillies?
The Mentor entry is a little more reassuring:
#7: What is a Mentor?
A Mentor is steadfast, honourable, courageous. S/he is there to teach, guide, and help the young Night Flyer in every facet of his or her learning. The Mentor is not, in most cases, a family member, but is instead a member of the young Flyer’s community. The Mentor/First Flyer relationship is usually one of great respect which often lasts into adulthood and beyond. The Mentor must take an oath to teach and guide faithfully. It is a sacred trust.
I think of all the times Mrs. Emmeline Beatrice Forest has smiled at me in The Float Boat over the years. Where her smile found me in a pile of squealing kids and made me feel like she knew I was there, regardless of whether we spoke to each other or not. I think about her finding me on the roof last night.
I somehow know she won’t fail me.
I turn the brochure over, and there on the back is Appendix D (what happened to A, B, and C, I wonder?).
Here is what it says:
Your Life as a Night Flyer Starts Today:
Appendix D
5 Full Privileges of a Night Flyer:
1 You may now fly unrestricted, day* or night, at your discretion. (*Daytime flight is generally not recommended in populated areas)
2 You have received your golden feather. You will receive only one. Keep it safe.
3 You now have a Watcher and Mentor who have each taken an oath on your behalf.
4 You may attend all Night Flying ceremonies as a Member with Full Privileges (see Question #8, reverse).
5 You must choose.
Numbers one through four are reasonably clear, or I figure I can piece them together with the ten questions and help from Mrs. Forest. But number five throws me.
You must choose.
Choose what? I feel fairly certain that this is going to come up again, soon.
I put the brochure back into the handbook for later and pick up the golden feather. It’s a really special thing, light to the touch, but you can tell it’s strong, too, strong as metal. It’s tough and beautiful. I’m looking at it up close when I hear someone come up behind me. I spin around.
It’s Martin Evells. I stow the golden feather, slam the handbook shut, and stuff it into my backpack.
“Hi, Gwen,” he says and smiles at me. It’s a great smile. It’s always been a favourite of mine. “What are you reading?” he asks politely.
“Hi, Martin. Um, just an old book about night … flying … creatures,” I manage to spit out. I’m clearly not too quick on the uptake.
I stand up and sling my backpack over my shoulder. My body literally leaps up and gets all trembly. My arms and legs start prickling like they are on fire. Uh-oh.
“Um, we’re having an end-of-year party tonight at my house,” he says. He says it really quickly, all running together, so I can hardly make out what he’s saying.
“My mom is setting up a food table and we’re playing music. I hope you can come.” He says this like it would be really nice if I showed up.
My finger starts to float, just a little. I snap my hand shut. My foot starts to lift off the floor, just a tiny bit. I slam it down, hard. I remember what Mrs. Forest said to me last night, “Just tell your body what to do, Gwen. It’ll listen, it has to.”
I tell my body, Just quit it. No one wants to see you flying around the library ceiling like a bat or a World War II fighting airplane. Just get a grip.
I say to Martin, “That sounds really nice, Martin. Can I bring a friend?”
He says sure, please do. He tells me where he lives (like I don’t remember from all those play dates we had when we were little), and says he’ll see me later.
I nod. I tell him I’ll see him later, too.
Apparently I’m going to a party at Martin Evells’ house tonight. And I’m a Night Flyer. And Mrs. Emmeline Beatrice Forest, my Mentor, is out of town. Mr. McGovern Everett McGillies the Third, my Watcher, is probably around somewhere, but he’s not exactly the most reliable person in the world.
Still, I should probably be grateful for whatever help I can get.
I’m
