On the flipside of Bowman Left Behind, another very important event happened during Bowman’s childhood. Here, he is ten, having lived with his aunt and uncle for a little under a year. That year was hard on Bowman, coming to adjust to a new home life. He was very worried that the addition of a new baby to the family would shove him aside (like many children might worry). The alternative was much sweeter and a huge step towards making Bowman who he is.
Read Bowman’s story here.
When they finally let me into the room to see Candara and the new baby, I was as angry as I’d ever been. Here I was, ten years old and just barely coming to terms with the fact that Larxe and Candara were my parents now, and they were having a child of their own. One that’d replace me, I was sure of it. Less than a year after my father left me with them, because he couldn’t even look at my face without thinking of my dead mother.
The mother I lost the moment I was born.
I tried to hide the sullen expression on my face. In truth, I’d been terrified. When Candara left for a secluded space far down the stream, her belly big with the child that was ready to come, I worried. I wondered what would happen if she didn’t come back, child in her arms?
It was still playing in my mind. The image of her midwife and best friend returning with a frail baby in her arms and no Candara in sight. The same way I was brought home to my father.
Instead, Candara had returned with a weary smile and sweat making her hair stick to her forehead in messy locks. Her wings formed a cloak all around her body. Larxe and the midwife led the new mother into the bedroom. I had been told to wait while they cleaned the baby up and checked her health. Her. My new cousin was a girl.
That meant she’d be a Songbird, like her mother. Like my mother was.
“Bowman, come see your cousin,” Candara greeted me. Her warm, inviting voice drew me out of my thoughts and over to the bedside. Larxe stepped back to make room for me, brushing a hand over my wild hair as I passed.
When I was right next to Candara, she met my eyes with hers. Something in them told me that, even though Candara hadn’t given birth to me like she’d given birth to the child bundled in her arms, I was no less hers.
The hard look on my face dissipated.