James looks at the picture of the pelican. The eyes are more white or gray to him. “Well, I have never seen a bird with green eyes.”
“Birds can have many different eye colors. It even says here that they can also have red eyes,” Winnie says and points at the text.
James smiles. He knows how much Sally has fought to help Winnie read. “Did you just read that?”
Winnie chuckles. “Yes, I did. I sounded the words out.”
“Good job, baby girl. Good job. Your hard work is finally paying off. Now, let’s find this bird. It can’t be that hard, now can it?”
5
“It’s the oddest thing,” James says and passes Sally the steaming potatoes.
“What is?” she asks.
“We looked through the entire book, but we couldn’t find this bird anywhere. Pass me the gravy, will you?”
She passes it to him, chewing her chicken. She is getting pretty tired of hearing about this stupid bird and just wants it out of her life.
“Well, that is odd,” she says, without meaning it.
“Winnie says it has green eyes. I thought it sounded so strange, so we looked it up and apparently birds can have all kinds of eye colors, even red. Actually, it was Winnie who read that and told me. I guess all your hard work is paying off, huh?”
Sally blushes. She hasn’t really been doing everything she is supposed to in order to get Winnie better at reading, but she takes the compliment with a nod.
“Mommy, it’s been more than two hours,” Winnie suddenly says. “Me and daddy looked at the birdie just before dinner and it didn’t get up or fly away like it was ‘opposed to.”
Her pronunciation makes Sally cringe. She has to restrain herself from correcting her daughter. James doesn’t like it when she does it. There is no reason to upset her. He says it will go away on its own. That she’ll grow out of it. “Have you ever met an adult who kept saying opposed to instead of supposed to?”
“Mommy?” Winnie asks, her eyes big and wide, tearing up, almost ready to cry again.
Please, don’t cry, baby. Please, don’t.
“I’m sure it will fly when you’re done with your dinner,” Sally says and points to her daughter’s plate. “Now, eat.”
Winnie leans back in her seat. “I’m not hungry.”
Sally sighs and drops her fork. They have been fighting with Winnie for the past many months just to get her to eat. Well, to get her to eat proper, healthy food that is, because when it came to snacking and desserts, she had never lost her appetite. Winnie has become quite overweight the past year or so and the doctor told them to make sure she eats healthy stuff, but Sally can never get her to do it.
“Winnie,” she says, putting on her serious mommy-voice. “You have to eat. Remember what the doctor said at our last visit, huh? You must eat your vegetables. Every day. And meat. Meat keeps you full for a longer period of time so you don’t eat so much junk.”
“I don’t want to,” Winnie says and pushes her plate away. “I don’t want to eat this.”
“Listen to your mother,” James says.
Sally sends him a thankful look. For the most part, Winnie listens more to what her dear daddy says than her mother.
“But, Daddy. I don’t want to.”
“Eat your chicken,” he says, gnawing at a thigh. “It’s good.”
“I don’t like chicken,” she says. “I don’t want to eat birdies anymore.”
“Now, I have never,” Sally says.
James signals for her to calm down. Then takes over. “Why is that, Winnie, sweetie?”
“Because they’re my friends. Like birdie. I don’t want to eat my friends.”
Sally rolls her eyes with a sigh. “Christ.”
James tries another approach. “All right then, you don’t have to eat the chicken. But eat your potatoes and your vegetables, all right?” He looks at Sally, who is about to protest, then says, “We can’t really force her to hurt yet another bird, can we?”
Sally snorts. “I told you, I didn’t mean to hurt it. I was just trying to get it off her shoulder and hopefully help it outside. That was all.”
“You almost killed the birdie, Mommy,” Winnie says, tears springing to her young eyes. “If it dies, I’ll never forgive you. Never!”
Winnie gets up and storms out. They hear her door slam loudly a few seconds later.
6
Sally and James finish eating. She gets up from the table and does the dishes, while James goes to Winnie’s room to talk to her, thinking she must be calmed down by now. He grabs the handle and knocks carefully while opening it slowly.
“Winnie, sweetie?”
He finds her sitting by the window, hovering over the shoebox. “Winnie, are you crying?”
He approaches her. She sniffles and looks up at him, then nods.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?”
“Look at the birdie,” she says.
He looks inside. The bird is still lying down on the cloth, motionless. “Is it breathing?” he asks.
She nods with a sniffle, then wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “Do you think it is going to die?”
He sighs. “I don’t know, honey, but maybe we should prepare ourselves for the worst. Just in case.”
Winnie sniffles again, then nods. “It’s such a purdy birdie, don’t you think, Daddy? Huh?”
He nods, even though he really doesn’t think it is pretty. He had never thought of birds as pretty in any way. This one seemed to have a beak way too big for its tiny head and he wonders whether it really can lift its head or not. Plus, it was white and kind of reminded him of an albino. He remembered reading about albino ravens that live in Canada and wonders if that is what it is.
But what is it doing all the way down here in Florida?
“It’s a part of life, honey. You know that, right? That death is a natural part of life. Especially with animals. They don’t live as long as we do. Their lives are filled with a lot more dangers than ours are.”
She nods. “I know. Like moms with brooms.”
He chuckles. “Well, yeah, that too. But also in nature.”
The bird suddenly moved a wing.
“Look, Daddy,” Winnie exclaimed. “Did you see that?”
He nods. “I sure did. Maybe we shouldn’t count him out just yet, huh?”
“I call him Zed. There’s a boy in my class that I like. He’s name is Zed.”
“Zed,” he says. “That’s cute…I guess.”
She puts her arms around her father’s neck and pulls herself close to him. “What shall we do?”
“Tell you what. How about I tuck you in tonight—”
“Yay!”
“—and then we leave Zed here to recover from her—well, whatever it is she has—until tomorrow morning. If she is feeling better, then we’ll set her free and let her fly away.”
Winnie looks at him with big eyes. “And if she’s not? What if she dies while I sleep, Daddy?”
“Then she wasn’t supposed to survive. She can’t get by in nature if she’s too weak anyway. If she’s dead in the morning, we’ll bury her in the backyard. Have a proper burial ceremony and sing a few songs for her. Say a proper goodbye.”
Winnie nods and sniffles a few times, then holds her father tight. James enjoys being close to his daughter and smells her hair, thinking that sitting like this makes it all worth it. All the struggles at work. All the pressure. To know that he is giving her a perfect upbringing, a perfectly safe childhood with money enough, where the biggest care and concern is some stupid bird.
“Will you read from the birdie book to me before I go to sleep?” Winnie asks.
James nods and kisses her on the cheek. “Of course. Get ready for bed and then I’ll be in and read to you.”
7
Sally sneaks into Winnie’s room, tiptoeing her way across the carpet, careful to not wake up her daughter. Winnie is sleeping heavily, snoring lightly under her covers, eyes closed. Sally walks to the sho
ebox, takes off the lid, and looks inside. She clasps her mouth, then puts the lid back on.
Still with the shoebox in her hand, she walks out of Winnie’s room, into the hallway, where she takes another peek at the bird. It is still not moving.
Is it dead? It looks very dead.
Sally pokes it with her pointer finger, but the bird doesn’t react. She pokes it again and again, and it doesn’t move. She sighs.
Wonderful. Now I am going to have an inconsolable kid all morning. Just what I needed.
She rubs her forehead, wondering what to do. The bird is obviously dead. Is there any way she can avoid Winnie knowing that it has died? Maybe if she simply removes the box, the kid won’t think of it when she wakes up? Maybe she’ll simply have forgotten while she slept? It had happened often enough that she forgot stuff she had been upset about the next morning.
But not this. Not her birdie.
Sally exhales, then walks to the porch. She opens the lid again and looks at the darn bird. So many problems caused by this little feathered fellow.
How can such a small creature cause me so much trouble?
“Fly, birdie,” she whispers. “Fly.”
Of course, it doesn’t, but it gives her an idea. What if it had actually flown? What would she tell Winnie? She could bury it here in the yard, and then tell Winnie the bird had simply flown off before she woke up? That she brought it outside to see if it was alive and then it took off?
I’ll say I didn’t know it would fly off. That I thought it was dead, but suddenly, it got better. Yeah, that’ll work. It simply flew off to be with its friends. No, family. Family is better. Winnie loves family.
“That’s it,” Sally says and looks down at the bird. “You’re going in the ground and no one will ever know.”
Sally goes to the shed and finds a garden shovel. She digs a small hole, then reaches inside the box and picks the bird up. She looks at it one last time. Its head is slumped to the side, eyes closed. Sally almost feels sorry for it, till she remembers the feeling of the blackbird’s claws as they were piercing through her scalp, and shivers. She hates birds. Boy, how she hates them.
“I am not regretting what I did, little birdie. You would have done the same to my daughter if I hadn’t smacked you, wouldn’t you? You were just waiting for your chance to get into her hair. To claw her scalp. I saw you looking at it, don’t you for one second think I didn’t see it.”
Sally reaches down with the bird in her hand towards the hole in the ground, when the bird suddenly opens its eyes and stares at her.
Sally shrieks and drops the bird. It unfolds its wings and soon it is in the air, flying, heading toward her. Sally screams as it comes closer, its beak pecking at her face.
“Get off me, you stupid bird,” she screams and tries to hit it, but it keeps coming back, pecking at her face, ripping small chunks of skin out.
Sally screams again, then touches her face and has blood on her hands. The bird comes back at her and she manages to put her arm up to protect her face. The bird pecks at her arm and Sally screams in pain.
“Mom!”
Sally turns her head to see Winnie. She is standing behind her, hands at her sides, looking angrily at her mother, then at the hole in the ground.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
8
“The bird was attacking me. I am telling you, look at my face!”
Winnie sighs as the bird recoils and sits on top of its box. Winnie walks towards it. Sally gasps and steps back.
“No. No. Don’t. Stay away from that bird,” she says. “Look at what it did to me. That bird is evil! Look how it hurt me.”
But Winnie doesn’t listen. She walks to the bird, reaches out her hand, and lets the bird jump up. Then she pets it gently on its head and the bird lets her. Sally is certain she’s about to have a heart attack.
“Please, be careful. That bird attacked me, Winnie.”
Her daughter looks at her. “Well, of course it did, what did you expect?” she asks. “First you knock it out with a broom and almost kill it, then you try to bury it while it’s still alive?”
“She’s got a point,” James says, coming out from the house. “The bird probably isn’t too fond of you right about now.”
Sally snorts. “That bird is dangerous, Jim. Look at me. I’m bleeding.”
James looks. “I admit it looks kind of bad. Maybe you should stay away from Zed from now on, huh?”
Winnie kisses the bird’s beak. “You can stay in my room where the bad mommy won’t be able to get to you.”
“No. No. No,” Sally says. “I am not having that bird inside of my house again. It belongs in nature, not in my house.”
Winnie looks upset. “It’s just woken up. It’s still hurt, Mommy. It needs care. Look at it.”
Sally does, then shakes her head. “It looks perfectly fine to me. Sure wasn’t very sick when it attacked me.”
James puts his arm around Sally. “Now, let’s go and clean up your face and arm, and then Winnie can take Zed to her room where she won’t disturb anyone, okay?”
“Jim, are you sure…”
“Sh. She’s going to be fine. Look at how well she’s handling it. It might be a good experience for her. Taking care of someone else besides herself. I’ll help her. Don’t worry. As soon as we’re absolutely sure the bird is fine enough to get by on her own, we’ll release her. You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of it all.”
Sally exhales, not completely convinced that this will end well, but gives in. She nods. “All right, then. But I don’t want to see that bird anywhere else in the house. It stays in her room, okay? And you keep it in that box whenever I enter the room. I don’t want to have to fight it off again. That beak is sharp.”
Sally looks at the pecking wounds on her arm. They’re deep and nasty and she wrinkles her nose.
“I promise, Mommy,” Winnie says, coming up to her, the bird on her arm.
Sally grunts as she looks at the bird. It’s staring at her, it’s green eyes fixated on her and it makes her shiver.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine in a couple of days and then we’ll get it out of your hair,” James says, then laughs when realizing what he just said. “No pun intended.”
“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” Sally says and pulls away from them. “It’s all just a joke to you, isn’t it? Ha. Ha. Sally is afraid of birds, hardehaha.”
Sally rushes toward the house, trying to get as far away from the bird as possible. She is walking with angry steps, grunting and grumbling along the way.
James yells after her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I am sorry.”
9
Sally finds no rest all day, knowing that bird is in there, in her daughter’s room, while Winnie is at school and James is at work. She tries. She really tries to forget about it and go about her daily chores. She washes their clothes and strips her and James’s bed of its sheets to wash them. She then walks to Winnie’s room to get her bed sheets as well, but she stops on the other side of the door. Her hand on the handle, she decides it can wait. Winnie will have to have her sheets changed another day. There is no way she is going in there. Not today.
Sally grabs some meat out of the freezer and decides on beef today. No chicken for a few days. Then she grabs the vacuum cleaner and vacuums the house, avoiding Winnie’s room till the end. She stands outside, looking at the door, wondering what would happen if she accidentally vacuumed the bird up, then lets the thought go again.
Winnie would never forgive you.
She decides she needs to grocery shop instead. Even though she could easily wait a few days. For once, she finds it kind of a relief to have to go shopping at Publix, to get out of the house. The thought of that bird flapping its wings frantically in there, pecking at the window, or the furniture, or whatever it might do, leaves her anxious.
What if it gets out somehow?
Sally lets go of the thought and leaves the house. In Publix, she manage
s to forget about it for a little while until she realizes James has written birdseed on the grocery list. Sally sighs.
Do I really have to feed it too? Pay money for food for it?
Sally sighs again, then picks up a bag of seeds, not knowing if it’s the right one or even caring. She is sick of this bird and having to take care of it. Why can’t it just fly back into nature and get lost?
Sally continues her shopping and buys an extra box of ice cream for herself. People are staring at her as she passes them pushing the cart. They’re staring at her face. She has put Band-Aids on the wounds to make her look less horrifying, but that only makes her look like a teenager covering up her pimples.
She smiles at a lady who even stops to stare. Some people have no manners. Sally pushes her cart to the cashier and starts to put up her things. The guy packing her bags stares at her, and so does the lady behind the register. Sally tries to ignore them, even though she knows they’re all wondering exactly what she is hiding behind all those Band-Aids.
Well, you’ll never know, will you? You’ll have to wonder about that till the day you die ‘cause I ain’t telling you.
She wonders for a second if people might think her husband is abusing her, but then lets the thought go. When the packer asks if he should help her to her car, she refuses. Mainly because she really doesn’t need him to stare at her by the car too. Besides, she hates that long walk to the car when you don’t know what to talk to the guy about.
Sally puts her groceries into the car and gets in. As she drives up to the gate leading to the island, she notices something on the top of the small house where the guard is sitting. A bird, very similar to the one at her house, only this one is bigger. She shakes her head as the gate opens, then drives past the small house. As she drives away, she looks in the rearview mirror and spots another bird, just like it, sitting next to the first one. Right when she takes a turn onto her own street, she notices three more of the same type of bird sitting on the wires above.