Her first memory was blue. When she lay awake at night, thinking, that was what came into her head. Blue. As pure and expansive as the sky. Perhaps this fascination was brought on by her name, Cobalt. Perhaps it was simply luck. In either case, her secret obsession filled her mind and life. It was no fault of her parents. They were as ordinary as adults came, an accountant and his wife. Dull, really. At least in her opinion. In everyone else’s they were the perfect status quo. And because they were her parents, everyone expected her to be normal, too. Well, she thought, that was tough on them. She had no intention of fitting into their plans and expectations. In fact, she had a plan of her own that would allow her to have as much blue as she wanted, with no parents or normalcy. All she needed for it was a little more time.

It was 11:00 at night, and she was busily working on her plan. She was supposed to be in bed, but this was too important. This would decide her life. To look at it, you might have thought that it was an extreme art project. But this was real. It was an enormous pair of wings that took up almost the whole of the garage. She had been working on them for months, and they were finally nearing completion. It had taken forever to find an adhesive that was light enough to fly, but strong enough to hold together. What she had finally settled on was a mixture of several glues, and a couple staples on the most important joints. She had bought many feathers from catalogues, but her allowance was running out. She had already had been forced to manufacture the huge primaries, but she wasn’t sure that she could make the tiny down feathers. Thankfully she had just enough to finish. Probably.

In the house, her parents worried about her.

“All she does is spend her time in that garage!” her mother said, “I want to know what she’s doing in there!”

“Give it time,” her dad replied, “We have to allow her a small measure of privacy.”

“This has gone beyond her allotted amount of privacy,” her mother argued, “She’s being secretive and obsessive. She has to see a physiatrist.”

Reluctantly, her father agreed. They decided that an appointment would be made for the next weekend. When Cobalt heard the news, she was livid.

“There’s nothing wrong with me! I’m just busy!” she cried in her defense. But her parents wouldn’t be swayed. As far as they were concerned, she was going to that appointment.

The day of her meeting arrived. Cobalt was more angry about the time it took away from her wings than the indignantly of being forced to consult with a physiatrist, though that wasn’t lost on her either. On the car ride there, she thoroughly scolded her parents, who by then were beginning to regret their decision. But soon enough, they were there, and Cobalt had to sulk her way inside to the waiting room. Sulk she did, and she was made no happier by the cheery balloon-faced posters on the walls. By the time the doctor had finally finished with his other patient, twenty minutes had passed and Cobalt had only grown more disgusted with what she saw as a complete waste of her time. She made her opinion readily available to the physiatrist, insulting his profession, his patients, and his heritage in many imaginative ways, all before he had time to open with a “How do you feel?”

“Well,” he said, looking a bit surprised, “I understand that you dislike being made to come here, but you should understand that your parents are worried about you. Take their concern into regard.”

“You said ‘understand’ twice in one sentence. Is your vocabulary that depleted?” she replied.

He furrowed his brow, and then tried again, “Insulting me wouldn’t help you. You have to underst- to realize what you’re angry about.”

She gave him a derisive look, underlined by her next sentence, “You must have cheated on your exams to become a shrink, because anyone with half a brain could see that I’m pissed that my precious time is being wasted on obscure questions.”

“No, you see, this is just a manifestation of your anger at something else. Maybe we can under- figure out what this is.”

Cobalt sighed inwardly. It was amusing to see how her comment about his vocabulary had affected him, but it didn’t change that this really sucked. It was probably best to wrap this up quickly, in case he had enough brains to figure out what she was up to.

“Look,” she began, “I don’t want to be here, and unless you find a way to cut this short, I can find a way to ensure that you don’t want to be here, either.”

“Well now,” he started to say, “This isn’t how this should be going. Let’s-“

Five minutes later, the nurse delivered Cobalt and some forms to sign to her mother. Over some suspicious glances at Cobalt, her mother signed the forms and freed Cobalt from having to endure any more nonsense. The ride home was much more pleasant, as Cobalt’s scolding had been replaced with self-satisfied smirking. Once arrived home, she almost leapt from the car and sprinted to the garage.

“Wait,” her mother’s call stopped her. “Cobalt- can I just see what you’re doing in there?”

“Later,” she shouted back, barely pausing. “It’ll be a surprise.” A big one, she added silently.

Once inside, she wasted no time in beginning her work. The physiatrist had had a point. If her parents were desperate enough to try to get her professional help, then they were desperate enough to break into the garage to see what she was up to. She resolved to lock the garage whether she was in or out of it, and to work harder on the wings. She was almost done! She grabbed her hot glue gun that she had bought with her own money, and began placing feathers. By dinnertime, she had finished the feathers, and only needed to rig up a harness. Unfortunately, her parents refused to let her go back to the garage.

“You aren’t going back in until we can come with you.” Her mothered declared.

Her father hesitantly nodded his assent. Infuriated, Cobalt stomped out of the dining area and locked herself in her room. When either of her parents came up to try to talk her, she turned on the loudest music that she owned, and sang along. Finally, the house grew quiet as her parents went to bed. After waiting an extra hour, in case they were trying to catch her sneaking out, Cobalt crept to the door and tried the handle. It seemed that her parents were a bit naïve, because it opened easily. Moving as silently as she could, she sneaked downstairs and outside to the garage. Once there, she let herself in with the key that she had hidden from her parents inside her shoe. She knew that it was only a matter of time before they started to look for it. She slowly gathered her leather straps and buckles that she had been saving for making the harness, and began to pack them into a backpack from the house. She slung this over her back and delicately gathered the huge wings into her arms. They were so light that it didn’t feel like she was holding anything at all. Moving carefully so that their bulk didn’t overbalance her, she left the garage and made her way to a hastily made shack that sat camouflaged out where her yard met the woods at the edge of town. There she stowed them, being careful not to bend or fracture a single feather. She wasn’t certain that the shack was rainproof, but it wasn’t supposed to rain for over week. Leaving the wings but keeping the backpack, Cobalt hurried inside and up to her room. She lifted back her mattress and tucked the backpack and it‘s load of leather straps in the hiding place created. Then she collapsed on her bed, exhausted. It was almost 2:00 in the morning. A bird trilled at her window, pulling her out of the doze that she slipped into. She clumsily pulled on her pajamas, and then clambered into bed. She fell asleep almost immediately.

The next few days consisted of sleepless nights spent working on the harness, avoiding her parents, and trying to stay awake in school. She didn’t turn in any homework, and her grades quickly plummeted. Soon, Cobalt also had to intercept several notes that were being sent home to inform her parent about her lack of effort. But she wasn’t that worried about school at the moment, because her sleepless nights had born fruit. The harness was almost done. Cobalt began to monitor the weather reports, looking for several clear days in a row. One night, while working to finish riveting the leather straps in place, Cobalt remembered something. She paused in her work, and tilted her head to one side, trying to piece together the fragments of memories. Climbing to her feet, she walked over to her dresser and opened the bottom drawer. Out of it, from under some cloths, she pulled a small wooden box. She stared at it, lost in thought, until an echo of her parent’s voices downstairs shook her out of her reverie. She stuffed the box back into the drawer, and then hesitated. Quickly, she grabbed the box and shoved it into her bag instead, before seizing her work and continuing to rivet the straps in place.

Finally, later that week, the radio reported that for three consecutive days there would be fair weather, and few to no clouds. This was what Cobalt had been waiting for. All that was left to finish on the harness could only be done just before she left, in order to attach it to her wings and to secure it to herself. However, there were still issues. Her parents were now worried that she wasn’t spending any time in the garage, and her mother was trying extremely hard to get time with Cobalt alone. Cobalt’s efforts to avoid her had been successful so far, but sooner or later a conversation would have to be had.

As it turned out, it was sooner rather than later. Her mother managed to corner her as Cobalt came back from school, the day before she planned to leave.

“Cobalt,” she began, looking earnestly at her daughter, “Is something wrong? I’m worried about you, honey.”

Cobalt shuffled from foot to foot, eager to get away. “I’m fine, Mom. Really.”

Her mother looked at her doubtfully. “You know that you can talk to me…”

“Really, I’m fine,” Cobalt interrupted, before breaking for the stairs.
She made it to the landing before her mother called up, “Are you sure?”
But Cobalt ignored her and ducked into her room.

Her father came out of the kitchen and put an arm around his wife. “She’ll tell us when she’s ready. You’ll see.”

Her mother hugged him back. “I sure hope so.”

In her room, Cobalt was packing a bag full of supplies. She checked as she packed that everything she packed was the lightest she could find. A first-aid kit, waterproof and lightweight, some dried fruit and meat, and a bit of rope, among other things. She finished neatly tucking everything in, and hefted the bag, feeling it’s weight. She nodded to herself, satisfied that it was that it was light enough. Then she hid the bag in the space under her mattress, and began getting ready for bed. Once under the heavy blankets, trying to sleep, Cobalt discovered that she wasn’t even nervous. Lying in the dark, seemingly in limbo, she wondered if this was strange. Then, as it always had, blue expanded to fill her mind. It crowded out all other thoughts, and with its calming presence, Cobalt fell asleep.

The next day at school was excruciatingly painful. The only thing that the other students could talk about was how much it stunk that school had started, and what they had done over the summer. The teachers were boring as well, droning on and on about subjects that Cobalt fully intended to never use. Perhaps the biggest hurdle, though, was forging her mother’s signature on one of the notes that she was supposed to have taken home. She had forgotten to do it the night before, and then had to sign it in the bathroom along with a short sentence about how “she” had talked to “her daughter” about the importance of homework. Thankfully, it passed muster, and Cobalt’s day didn’t include a side trip to the principal’s office. After school, Cobalt raced home to grab her bag and harness. No one stopped her, as her parents didn’t get out of work until 4:00. She snagged her cargo, and raced down to the shack where the wings were still stored. She reached down and gathered the numerous feathers to her, lifting them up. Loaded down with her supplies, Cobalt walked as quickly as she could to an abandoned, tall building at the edge of town. No one saw her enter, but she still raced up the stair as fast as she could manage, unwilling to let anyone stop her. Once at the top, she kept away from the edges. If anyone saw her up there, her efforts could be destroyed before they really began. She worked the harness out of her backpack, and pulled out the riveting tools. She quickly attached all of the necessary straps to the wings, and riveted it together for security. She then wormed her way into the harness, feeling the gentle weight on her shoulders. Then she hesitated. She reached into the backpack that had held the straps one final time, and withdrew the box. Holding it, memories washed over her. She opened it, and gently pulled out a long, rounded shard of blue sea glass. She let the memories take her.

Her grandmother had taken her to the beach, years and years ago, before her grandmother had died. They had gone for a long walk down it, after Cobalt had had her fill of splashing in the shallow surf. As they had walked, her grandmother had showed her how the sky and the sea blended together at the horizon.

She said, “It’s said that if you can make it there, where all there is, is water and sky, blue as far as the eye can see, you will be free forever. Forever and ever.”

Little Cobalt had listened with an intensity beyond her years. Just then, the waves washed up a long, weathered shard of sea glass, coloured the purest blue. Cobalt had picked it up, and looked at her grandmother.

Her grandmother smiled down at her, and said, “It’s a sign, little one. You will find your freedom.”

The memories retreated, leaving Cobalt with renewed determination. Across her chest, two straps crossed, forming a tight pocket. Cobalt stepped to the edge of the roof, and carefully folded the sea glass into the harness. Below her, people stopped and stared. She saw the physiatrist that her mother had hired squint against the sunlight, looking at her.

(have you seen it yet? the colour of her soul? not a gentle, soft blue of a clear summer day, but a Deep Dangerous Cobalt Blue. the colour of the ocean when viewed from below, before it changes to indigo as you sink. or fall.)

Cobalt pulled the straps, spreading her wings. Below her, the crowd gasped. She heard feet on the stairs. The glass was at her heart, no, was her heart. Her eyes sought out the horizon as she stepped over the edge. A shout came from behind her, “Stop!” Finally, finally, as her feet lost the ground in place of sky, she felt the wind wrap around her, catching her.
Finally.