Wynette and Tyreden
Bring in…the clothes… The four words Wynette dreaded whenever she was at home. She didn’t so much dread them as she did loathe them though. Grumpily, she trudged out through the back holding the washing basket (actually more of a crate) at her hip, the pegs sliding noisily within the crate. It was hot and dry- one of the two of her most hated combinations of weather; the other being freezing and wet. Wynette looked up and groaned as she her eyes met with four loads of dry washing on the line- half of which consisted of king-sized bed sheets and blankets,
"Why me…?" she sighed, feeling a trickle of sweat on her temples.
She stood under the shade of the pergola. The hot path leading to the Hill’s hoist shone a bright almost-yellow colour under the sun, almost like the sand that lay almost in the middle of a desert. Adelaide was going through another heat wave, surprising for a city with freezing cold Winters. Nette drew in a breath and took the step that would begin her journey to becoming the biggest piece of human jerky.
The sunlight came down on her like a giant brick of heat, radiating UV rays. She now knew how ants felt like under some little kid’s magnifying glass. Her thongs/flip-flops slapped her feet as she made her way to the clothesline. As she lowered the clothing crate down, she wondered if the plastic would melt upon making contact with the pavement.
Starting with a white shirt probably wasn’t the smartest idea… Nette, as she preferred to be called by her friends, rubbed an eye with a finger and shook her head. It seemed cooler all of a sudden. Risking her vision, Nette titled her head upwards and looked up at a towering figure; a mountain of a man; an angel of a friend…literally. Since emerging from under her school a few months back, they had been very close…very close. Despite this, Nette could only blush as her eyes followed up his exposed chest and up to his icy, pale-green eyes,
"Might I be of some assistance?" he asked, his voice as low and gentle as always, as he knelt down on a knee,
"That would be great, Tyr," Nette nodded, sighing with relief under his cool, huge shadow, "Thank you,"
He carefully took up the king-sized doona cover from the line and folded it with ease. Nette watched him fold the dwarfed sheet, a mere handkerchief in his fingers. He shot a quick glance down at her- she still held the white shirt that blinded her- and, sliding the folded sheet into the clothing crate, scooped her up quickly and kissed her tenderly, repeatedly,
"Tyreden!" Nette tried to stifle her laughter, throwing the shirt at his nose. He nuzzled her back, his nose and his warm breath tickling her, and she exploded into laughter, "Stop it! Hahaha!!!"
The giant pulled back, chuckling with amusement at her form in his huge hand. She coughed out her last few remaining giggles and collapsed, exhausted. For a 200-foot giant, he could really tickle. There was a huge difference between the giant angel now from when he and Wynette had met. He almost completely contrasted his past self- so much more relaxed and laid back; what he would laugh at now, he would barely crack a smile at back then. And he still maintained his angelic grace…and his love for Wynette who, at the moment, took back hold of the shirt and threw it at his face again with a frown,
"YOU…are too cheeky for you own good!" she cried,
"I could go back to my serious self again, if you wish, my dear," Tyreden cooed and grinned. Wynette considered his words for just a moment and scrunched her face in defeat. The angle chuckled again and kissed her cheek, "Are the thoughts of waves, sand and gulls still under your consideration?"
"No, I’ve made up my mind," Nette folded her arms, "I’m taking you to the beach!"
"Muuuuum!" Wynette called, running around the house to find her, "Mum, Mum, Mum, Mum, Mum!!!"
A muffled reply came from the laundry. With a violent swing of the door, Nette found her mother ironing the pleats of her school dress. The short Filipino woman looked up, her wide eyes wider than usual in surprise. She gazed at her daughter puffing in her swimsuit and looking like she was going to kill someone…and that someone being the only other person in the house,
"Mumhaveyouseenmyshorts???" Wynette blurted out.
Mum scratched her nose casually and returned to her ironing, "Slower and in an understandable fashion,"
Wynette sighed- her body was a temple, release the bad chi… "Mum……have……you……seen……my……shorts……?"
Mum snorted, "They’re in your wardrobe. Stop getting too excited. Do you need a lift?"
"No, that’s okay!" Nette’s voice faded as she ran back into her room and raided her wardrobe like a racoon in a bin. Or she would have if she weren’t the type who would be kept awake for a whole night, staring at the bag lying in the middle of the room- its mouth open and agape, curved in a patronising laugh; its calico body slouching, almost sprawled all over the floor like a sumo-wrestler wanting a tan…it taunted her…
"These’ll do!" she pulled out a pair of khaki shorts from under a pillar of lower-body garments and slipped them on. With a stretch and a sigh of satisfaction, she slipped on her thongs/flip-flops and grabbed her infamous bag that taunted her in the night.
The front door closed behind her with a heavy wooden boom, the metal knocker tapping on its other half on the door as it shut. It seemed much cooler than it did earlier although the sun was at its peak in the sky. The lack of skin coverage, especially on the limbs, would suffice as a reason, or probably because of a certain giant waiting on the street for his tiny friend- of course, said from his point of view and not from a human’s. Tyreden looked uncomfortable- Nette looked up and gave a snort- and she had a feeling she knew why…
"Looking, er, very…seasonal, Tyr," she adjusted the shoulder strap of her bag, making her way to the angel’s feet.
With his thumb, he pulled at the waistline of bright, lime green board shorts patterned with a very cartoon representation of pine trees, "It was what they had given me," he replied uneasily,
"I think it’s cute," Nette laughed, folding her arms, now standing in front of his big toe,
"Do you really think so?" he lowered down and scooped her up into his hands, his face brightening slightly,
He lifted her up closer, "Oh yeah, definitely," she stretched her arms up to loosen them.
There was a short silence. A magpie screeched passed, trying to shake of an attacking sparrow off its tail. Tyreden slowly raised a brow, one pale green eye now larger and more brilliant than the other,
"I still struggle to determine your level of seriousness, my dear,"
Nette merely smiled and rose onto the tip of her toes, "I know," she grinned and gave him a peck on the nose.
Tyreden braced himself for a slight stinging sensation on his back. The sickening sound of flesh slowly ripping apart made Nette cringe, but the sight of Tyreden’s wings emerging compensated for the gross sound. Brilliant white feathers reflected the sunlight in a blinding return as his wings spread to their full extent, as magnificent as those of a mythical bird. He rolled back his shoulders and quarter-turned so not to hit the treetops and frighten the lorikeets from their perch as he spread his wings to their full extent.
Fingers curled around Nette in a gentle embrace of protection and she was lifted to the angel’s chest height. It was so warm, so soft…she loved it when he held her like that; she felt so protected; nothing bad would ever happen to her with Tyreden around. A soft breeze that rustled the leaves grew to a powerful gust as Tyreden’s great wings began to beat heavily, as heavy and deep as a giant drum. Nette rubbed her eye as a straying particle of dirt flew in to the sensitive organ, a burning sensation now in her socket, when suddenly, gravity pushed down on her, with more force than usual.
Tyreden had taken off. Tears were forced out of Nette’s eyes, rushed down her cheeks and splashed down onto Tyreden’s hand with a sharp landing. She was sure, as her mouth felt like it was being pulled down by some phantom trickster, that the laws of motion would be put into practice if her angel’s grip on her suddenly loosened and she would rocket off into the sun. To her relief, the G-Force began to lower and she could feel her face again, her lips enclosing her teeth once more as they should,
"My apologies, my little one," Tyreden chuckled, a deep rumbling in his throat.
Nette looked forward, and by forward, it meant looking down…at the ground, "AAAGH!"
At hundreds of feet above the ground, flying over a Monopoly board laid out with its tiny houses, the only thing keeping her in the air being a hand, there was no better way to describe Nette’s shock than with a simple 5-letter onomatopoeia. Covering her eyes with her hands, she felt a huge fingertip gently scratch her head, followed by a set of giant lips on her cheek,
"At least you now know of what I see in my point of view," he whispered, sending the much loved tingles down her spine.
On a clear area of the beach, Tyreden carefully lowered himself down. Nette, tucked in snugly behind his ear, savoured the feeling of vertigo in her stomach. A small whirlwind of sand twisted along to the edge of the water where the grains lightly splashed into the water like tiny raindrops. Tyreden took Nette up between two fingers and lowered her back down onto soft, flat ground again. She looked up at his towering figure, not at all intimidated as he seemed to stand taller than his actual 200-feet,
"You might like to tuck your wings back in, Tyr," she suggested,
"Oh, yes, of course," he nodded, the sound of opening flesh being able to be heard,
"Er…" she swallowed at the sound, "Remind me…never to fly with you again,"