The Flight to Freedom

By Jessica Cussins

Maia dreamt in Technicolor. Enchanted worlds opened themselves up to her, tumultuous visions that danced so casually about her mind, mocking the dry roads and endless corn fields that made up her reality. She had learned early on to tune out much of her real life. Dreams offered an escape; and she preferred to dance.

7.00 a.m. Another summer morning strangled softly by an Eagles song buzzing through the radio by Maia’s bed. She groaned and curled up deeper into herself and the warm groove her body had made in her old mattress. The words of the song floated into her dream-addled mind so that she could almost forget the noise meant more than an added melody for her thoughts.

Raven hair and ruby lips

sparks fly from her finger tips

Echoed voices in the night

she's a restless spirit on an endless flight

wooo hooo witchy woman see how

high she flies

A harsh voice came on to give the traffic report and forced her back. Right. Work. She stood up and slowly opened her curtains, which were already warm from the morning sun. It would be another hot day. Maia slipped on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and quietly left her house. She had learned it was better not to risk waking her mother on these early mornings.

Maia was a waitress at IHOP and found it a welcome way into a world she longed to embrace. She quickly formed bonds with the other girls. They weren’t like those she went to school with; they didn’t laugh about her dark skin that the summer sun loved to accentuate, or whisper about her mother. Here, she was one of them. Together, they complained of the same horrific customers. Together, they brought bottomless cups of coffee to loud families, sullen widows, and hung-over teens. There wasn’t much time to talk, but Maia never felt alone while she was working.

She liked to think that she was helping her mother. Since Maia began buying groceries and helping to pay for Kaity’s pre school fees, she felt that her mother noticed her, even appreciated her sometimes. She would convince herself that she had caught her mother smiling at her approvingly when she thought Maia wasn’t looking. But those moments had become more rare than Maia cared to consider. She didn’t like to dwell on her family. Yes, I’ll bring you some more coffee right away.

Brighton, Illinois was not a good place for secrets. The endless, flat cornfields and roads could never keep much hidden for long; they lay out open to the world, daring you to hide. Maia never fit in well in Brighton. She dreamt of mountains, of cities, and oceans, places full of secrets. She sometimes imagined herself bursting with all the secrets she held; she worried she would open her mouth and they would pour right out of her. So she mostly kept to herself.

“Maia!” Maia’s mother called out to her from her bed, which she hadn’t left yet. Maia had just walked in the front door, back from work, and was sweating from the bike ride in the hot afternoon sun.

“Yea, Mom?” She called out, a little tentatively.

“Come here n-now!” Her mother stuttered and Maia instinctively braced herself as she climbed the stairs to her mother’s room.

“Yea? You OK Mom?” Maia asked as she walked closer to her mother. She looked terrible.

“You look terrible,” her mother informed her. Maia dug her nails into her hands behind her back.

“Um, I just got back from work Mom, its so hot outside, do you need anything?”

“Bring me a glass of water and three Advil.”

“Sure Mom.” Maia did as her mother asked and then helped herself to a big glass of cold water. She found Kaity in the garden by herself, playing with her dolls.

“How you doing baby?” Maia sat down next to her little sister.

“Goood,” Kaity always dragged out her words, as if she wanted to make sure you caught every one of them real well.

“Suuzie’s upsett beecause Bob won’t haave luunch with herr.” Kaity gestured to her dolls separated on the grass.

“Why won’t he Kaity?”

“Hee’s tooo tiired,” Kaity replied. “Juust like Mommy, tooo tiired.”

“Has Mom been in bed all day?”

“Yeaaa… aand shee promised mee she wouuld take mee to the paark, Maiaa!”

“Oh well I’ll take you later baby, why don’t you come inside with me now?”

“OK Maiaa,” Kaity swooped up her arguing dolls and followed Maia into the house. They slumped into the couch together, sinking into the old fabric. Maia closed her eyes. Rest.

Maia allowed herself a few minutes of peace before getting up to fix her sister and herself some dinner (Mom had declared she was not to be disturbed), and then took Kaity to the park as promised. She brought her video camera along with her, one of her greatest secrets, wrapped carefully in an old silk scarf.

Kaity quickly ran off to the swings and left Maia to set up for whatever the evening might wish to show her. She had been making a documentary of sorts over the last couple weeks. She had begun the project on something of a whim after finding the video camera at a local pawnshop. It looked too bright and new amidst the other discarded items that seemed to be coated in a years worth of dust even after they had been cleaned. She couldn’t afford it, but somehow couldn’t leave without it.

            The camera gave her confidence. A new set of eyes to view the world through. An escape. She didn’t have actors or scenes; she wanted the world as it was. She figured that if she could find beauty and life in Brighton then just maybe the world was all right after all.

            She filmed a ladybug crawling on a blade of grass, a squirrel dancing on the highest branches of a tree, an old couple sitting silently together in the shade completely immersed in their own minds but so comfortably together, a young woman taking breaks from her job at Denny’s to smoke cigarettes, a mother pushing her newborn baby down the street quietly singing her lullabies.

            Maia filmed her sister for a while. Kaity was small for her age and had delicate features; her Dad had been a blond haired, blue-eyed Southern man who had briefly passed through these parts for a plot of land to buy. He had filled Mom with dreams of being a wealthy farmer’s wife; brought her to life momentarily with visions of owning acres of crops, of having healthy happy children with room to run around. But the crops hadn’t been doing well that year, and the Southern man had moved on. By the time Mom knew she was pregnant with his child, he was long gone and she didn’t bother to reach him.

            Kaity swung furiously on her swing, her legs breaking through the air, which was just beginning to cool off. Maia zoomed in on her face; she was biting her lip with concentration as she rose higher and higher only to come crashing back down. Maia moved on. An old man had stopped to take a drink from the water fountain and she filmed his slow, crooked body inch down towards the flow of water. When he rose, most of the water seemed to have missed his mouth and his face and t-shirt were wet. As he wiped the water off, he noticed Maia and scowled at her before moving on. She turned her camera off in a moment of broken dignity and slowly wandered around, watching her sister out of the corner of her eye. The park was the largest in the area and had the only hill for miles around. Maia climbed to the top of it and sat down, surveying the world below her.

She was struck suddenly by the loneliness of the world. The feeling grew in her stomach and spread throughout her body, making her shiver despite the lingering heat. She thought of her father, The Indian, as her mother called him. He would have been here for her, she knew it. He often appeared in her dreams; sometimes he had beautiful, white wings that grew from his strong back and he would soar in through her window, gently pick her up from her bed, and they would fly away together, her body small in his dark arms.

Suddenly Maia heard music ever so softly in the night air. She wiped her tear stained cheek and took a deep breath,

“Kaity!” she called for her sister to join her.

“Comiing,” her sister yelled back as she jumped from her moving swing and ran towards her.

“Do you hear that?” Maia asked her sister.

“Noo,” she replied, still breathing deeply from her run.

“Listen closely.” Kaity dramatically cupped her hands around her ears,

“Oh, yeaah!” she declared finally, “muusic!”

“You want to go find where it’s coming from?” Maia asked with a glint of excitement in her eyes.

“Yaay! An adventuure!” Kaity sung out.

They set off. At first it seemed to be coming from the huddle of trees to their left, but inside it they found nothing. Then they thought it was coming from within the slide, but again they found nothing. The music momentarily stopped and they stopped too, thinking their adventure would have to come to a premature end. But then they heard it again, louder than before.

“The lake!’ Maia exclaimed, “I’m sure it’s coming from  over there.” They crossed over to the small lake and for a second it seemed as though the music was coming straight from within the water. They both stood, bewildered. And then Maia saw him.

Maia was speechless for a moment. She thought he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He had dark skin that was nearly purple in the night, long braids that hit the top of his back, and bottomless grey eyes. He wore a simple t-shirt that hugged his chest and arms and an intricate tattoo wrapped across his forearm, disappearing into the soft fabric. Maia pressed a finger softly to her lips, gesturing for her sister to stay quiet and follow her behind an un-trimmed bush. She turned her camera towards the man.

The music wrapped around him and he stood for a moment, slowly moving his body to the beat.

And I hang my boots to rest when I'm impressed

So I triple knot them and forgot them

This origami dream is beautiful,

but man those wings will never leave the ground

Without a feather and a lottery ticket, now settle down

All I ever wanted was to pick apart the day,

put the pieces back together my way.

            And then he jumped into an imagined pit and moved his body to the words, harsh over a smooth melody and defined beat. He moved in a way Maia had never seen before. Her mesmerized stare soared past her lens as her unaware performer dipped and spun, pushing through the air as if he were weightless.

            Maia did not dream in Technicolor that night. She dreamt of dark purple skin, intricate black designs, and bottomless gray eyes.

            The next evening she found herself back in the park, hidden behind the same un-trimmed bush, another secret, watching this beautiful man dance. She was back the next night, and the next, till she forgot when she had taken that first adventure. Her body eventually formed a groove in the bush and she could watch him, comfortably un-noticed until the black sky forced her back to reality and her home. She watched him struggle when a move didn’t work out the way he wanted; the way he would close his grey eyes for a moment, thinking hard, before trying again, and getting it right. She watched the beads of perspiration form on his upper lip and then his forehead as he pushed himself harder. She watched when he was lifting his whole body with one arm and before he could balance with the other, his arm gave out, throwing him onto the gravel that ripped his pants and was left stained with blood.

            That night, Maia’s father appeared in her dreams, his white wings about to lift her to the sky when they slowly began to bleed, red blood staining the pure white feathers until they could no longer fly. Maia awoke with a cold sweat, but a clear mind. She would introduce herself to her beautiful stranger; she was not able to know her father, but she was able to know this man, and she suddenly wanted to know everything.

            The next evening, Maia was back in her groove, the camera off, looking for the courage or the moment to speak to her stranger. He stopped dancing suddenly and peered in her direction, making her heart beat louder than the music, before he walked towards the un-trimmed bush.

“Why aren’t you filming today?”

“Wha-aat?” Maia stuttered.

“Why aren’t you filming today?” he repeated, “Is it my shirt?” he laughed, “It’s kinda dirty, huh?”

“No, uh, no its not. Your shirt… I mean… you knew I was filming you?” Maia felt exposed like the empty roads she longed to escape.

“Of course, your… sister? has quite the voice, I heard you guys coming that first day. Hey don’t look like that! I don’t mind, you know; I was kind of flattered. I was just wondering why you weren’t filming today, I’d gotten used to it you know?” He stopped and laughed again.

Maia realized she had never seen him laugh before; his mouth opened wide, exposing his gums. She wished she could catch it on camera.

“You know, you don’t have to stay in there,” he told her, the laughter lingering in his voice.

“Here, stand up.” He offered his hand to her and Maia took it, allowing herself to be lifted from her secret. Standing before him, she didn’t know whether the lightness in her head was from standing too quickly or being so close to his smiling grey eyes. He was even more beautiful up close.

“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he told her, suddenly taking in her entire form free of an obscuring bush.

“Thanks,” she muttered, blushing. No one had ever said those words to her before.

“Hey, what’s your name?” She asked too quickly.

“Ahanu. It means ‘he laughs.’ I was gonna be named John, but I was born smiling and my mother said, this boy is not a John. So Ahanu it was.”

He laughed, and she found herself laughing too.

“I’m Maia,” she told him.

“Well, Maia, are you hungry? What do you say we get out of this park and get some food?”

Maia thought of her mother at home; she was probably waiting for her.

“I don’t think I can,” she began, but saw the smile leave his eyes, “Well, I guess I could for a little while.”

“Great!” the smile grew wider then before, “Let’s go.”

            They walked towards the end of the park where he stopped before a dirty black motorcycle.

“This is yours?”

“Yea, you’ve never ridden one before? It’s the easiest thing in the world, just hop on.”

 Maia shook off her worries and got on the bike. Ahanu sat down in front of her and revved the gears.

“Wrap your arms around my stomach,” he yelled over the motor, “and hold on tight!” Ahanu rode fast, but Maia loved it. As the wind tore into her, she felt it strip away all her worries.

They pulled up in front of a small Italian restaurant and went inside, sitting at a secluded table in the back. Ahanu told her about himself; how he was born in New York City, but after his father’s death, was sent here to live with his grandmother. He’d gotten into break dancing back home and it was something to do in Brighton besides playing rummy with his grandmother who cheated every time! Besides, he wanted to win a competition back in New York City; the winner gets $5,000 and the opportunity to travel around the country, break dancing with the best. Maia told him she believed he could win. And she told him about herself; how her father had died too when she was young and that a part of her mother had died with him. She told him about the wealthy farmer and her sister, about school and IHOP, about her movie and her dreams of leaving Brighton forever.

            Maia kept filming Ahanu, now from whichever angle she liked. After, they went for rides on his motorcycle and got dinner together. Or they saw a movie, or drank tea with his grandmother, or played on the swings with Kaity, or watched the stars and talked about their fathers, or listened to music, or went swimming in the lake. It didn’t matter to either of them as long as they were together.

            One night, near the end of the quickly diminishing summer, they sat together on the one small hill of their park. Ahanu was playing with Maia’s long, dark hair; braiding it, then letting it loose. He stopped suddenly and, moving so he faced her, looked straight into Maia’s dark eyes.

“Will you come to New York with me?” he asked with every hope written on his face.

“I can’t leave my family, Ahanu.”

“You’re an adult Maia!” There was a sudden anger in his voice that she hardly recognized, “What are you planning to do here? You’re done with school, are you going to keep working at IHOP forever?”

He stopped for a minute, as Maia broke his stare with a hurt glance at the ground.

“Just… come with me,” he continued, “I have to go for the competition in two weeks, and I want you to be there with me when I win first prize.”

“Listen to yourself, all you talk about is that damn prize. What if you don’t win? What then? We’ll be stranded in New York City with nothing.”

“We will never have nothing, Maia.” They were both silent for a minute, unsure how to cross the sudden wall between them.

“We will never have nothing,” he repeated, “because I love you. I want to travel the world with you, with or without this prize.”

The wall disappeared just as surely as it had been built and Maia slowly smiled again into his bottomless grey eyes.

“I love you too,” she whispered, and then, more surely, “I love you Ahanu and I will come with you.”

They lay, entwined together on their hill, until the morning sun glistened on the horizon.

            That night, Maia dreamt of her father for the last time. He appeared at her window, white wings proud and strong as ever, but instead of lifting her up in his arms, he sat down beside her. He placed his strong hands on the top of her back and ever so slowly; wings began to grow where his hands lay until a full set of white wings stood proudly from Maia’s back too. Together, they jumped from her window and flew into the night sky.

            Two weeks and a long motorcycle journey later, Ahanu and Maia found themselves in New York City, at a large club in Greenwich Village, there few belongings in a bag beside them. The club was crowded with bodies and pulsating hip hop; Maia had never seen anything like it, but Ahanu seemed to be at home and worked his way through the club with ease, stopping often to greet old friends. Eventually the lights dimmed and a voice told all the dancers to get ready. Maia found herself nervously tracing Ahanu’s tattoo with her finger as she wished him luck, before settling herself in a good place to film the last scene of her documentary.

            Ahanu was the second to last person to come out. As Maia waited, she thought back to Brighton, of her family and the life she had left behind. She would miss her sister, but somehow knew she would be all right. The way her mother had held on to Kaity as she rode off made her think that without her they might become closer than ever. Maia had promised to help them as soon as she found another steady job, but her mother had flatly refused, telling her she would need whatever she could make to survive in the big city. Her mother told her she had been looking into getting her old job back. Though it hurt to consider, Maia realized that perhaps without her, her mother would not have to face the daily reminder of her dead husband whom Maia had grown to resemble so strongly. Perhaps she would finally be able to move on.

Eventually, Ahanu walked on to the stage, with just a slight tremor in his eye that hinted to an anxiety his strong presence would never indulge. He moved with so much energy and passion and Maia viewed it all through her lens, proud to be with him. Before he walked off the stage, she got her final shot: a close up of his face, wet with perspiration, but smiling so hard and staring straight at her. He mouthed I love you and Maia smiled, and then turned off her camera, wrapping it carefully in its old silk scarf.

            When the winners were about to be announced, Ahanu gestured for Maia to stand with him. She went to his side and kissed him hard before holding his hand to await the final decision. As she stared out into the crowd, through her own eyes and not behind a bush or through a lens, she knew that she had left her secrets behind her; she had her own wings now, and with Ahanu by her side, she was ready to fly.