A Much Needed Vacation

“I absolutely cannot believe you made us go on vacation to earth. And not just that, but why did you have to pick Indianapolis, of all places? Who, in their right mind, vacations in Indianapolis?”

Abriel shrugged, fiddling with a stray feather from their wing. “You did say I could pick this time.”

Sheol threw his hands up in the air exasperatedly. “Yeah, but how was I supposed to know you’d pick Indianapolis?” He shook his head, his scruffy, fiery locks rustling. Sighing, he set a large black duffel bag on the king-sized bed. “And did we have to stay in some…” He looked around the room with vague disgust, “Hotel?”

Abriel ignored their mate and walked over to the large window, sunlight streaming into the room. Their hotel had a view of… well, nothing really. Just some nondescript buildings and a couple restaurants. But for Abriel, who, even after all these millenia, still found joy and awe in the mundane things of the human race, it was everything. They could see people heading to and from work, teenagers getting some sort of fast food on their lunch breaks, old couples holding hands, dogs on leashes. Sheol came up behind them and placed his hands gently on Abriel’s shoulders.

“Is this really what you want to do?”

“Yes, it is.”

Sheol sighed, and rubbed Abriel’s shoulders. “Alright then. What’s first on the agenda?”

Abriel jumped into action. They turned away from the window and headed over to the bag on the bed, from which they pulled out a large folded paper map, an envelope of American currency, and a plastic bag of nightshade berries. At the last item, Sheol raised an eyebrow.

“What? In case I get snacky…”

Sheol snorted a laugh and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Abriel stuffed everything but the map into the pocket of their grey hoodie, which, magically, did not appear to be stuffed at all.

“So,” they began, beginning to pace the worn carpet floor. “We’re going to the Indianapolis Museum of Art, so I can see pretty things and also find an excuse to rant about fine art culture.”

Sheol laughed, shaking his head. “Okay, then what?’

“Then, we’ll go to the Indianapolis Zoo, because I desperately want to see an elephant up close.”

“Have you not seen an Elephant in real life before?”

Abriel shook their head. “No, can’t say I have.”

“How is that even possible?”

Abriel shrugged. “Dunno. But we will check it off the list today.”

“Okay, okay,” Sheol added, raising his hands in defeat.

“Last,” continued Abriel. “We will go for a walk in Eagle Creek Park, which is apparently very large and very serene.”

“Wow, a park, I’ve never been to one of those before,” Sheol replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Abriel smacked him over the head with the map.

“Ow!” Sheol exclaimed, rubbing the top of his head.

“That didn’t hurt, you big softie. Now, let’s go, I want to go look at paintings!”

Sheol followed Abriel out the door, and they were on their way. Sheol sighed. Next time, he was picking the destination.

*****

Abriel insisted on looking at every single piece of art in the gallery, so by the time they emerged back onto the street, the sun was already dipping below the horizon. Abriel was still angrily ranting about the “privatization of art” and not paying attention, causing Sheol to have to bodily move them out of the way of a lamp post on the sidewalk.

“Hey, Lilac, watch where you’re going,” Sheol scolded gently, patting his mate on their shoulders.

Abriel shook their head as if to clear it. “Sorry, you know how I get with that stuff.”

Sheol shrugged nonchalantly. “‘Course. Just be careful.” He yawned and stretched his arms as they walked. “So, where are we going next again?’

Abriel rolled their eyes. “Well, we were supposed to go to the zoo, but,” they flicked their wrist and a watch appeared, which they consulted. “It’s probably too late today. So we’ll go tomorrow. Let’s get dinner and then perhaps we can go to the park?”

“Whatever you want, chicken wing.”

Abriel stopped walking and turned to look at Sheol. “I beg your pardon?”

Sheol shrugged again. “Isn’t that an expression? Where it rhymes?”

Abriel rubbed their face with a hand in exasperation. “Oh my heavens, Sheol, it’s ‘ain’t no thing, chicken wing’, if you must use terribly cheesy, outdated jokes.”

Sheol gave another shrug. “Same thing.”

“That is absolutely not the same thing.”