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Bird Island
Chapter 3
Black and Bored

Patrick Fealey

    Wawp is in the building for little humans. Wawp is no longer free to play with Wawp’s wheels or swim. Bird has followed Wawp here for days and Wawp sits and sits. Wawp is held by the big humans inside the brick building. Wawp is by the open window. Bird can see Wawp sitting with the little humans. Wawp looks out at Bird. Bird is sitting in a tree above the arranged stones. Bird found one worm here and caught a hopper, but this land is hunted.

    Wawp is held by a big human with big hands and round glass eyes. The big human is at the other end of the room, talking, while Wawp sits, looking at it. The big human has a low, hard, hurting voice. Wawp slides low in Wawp’s seat until Wawp looks like Wawp is hiding. The big human moves back and forth before a black space, holding in its hands something which makes it bark. Wawp looks out at Bird.

    Kek kek kek kek kek kek kek . . .

    Wawp looks at one of the little female humans.

    “Mister Whitfield, please read for us the beginning of ‘The Cask of Amontillado,’” The big human is standing in front of a little human who sits far from Wawp. The little human clears its throat and speaks like Wawp when he gets near to sleep. Wawp reaches into Wawp’s bag while the little human speaks like he is asleep.
    “Excellent, Mister Whitfield. Thank you. Nice job last night on the court too. Mister Jones, please continue.”
    “I . . . Uhm . . . Forgot my book . . Sir,” Jones says.
    “Forgot your book?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Take it in the hall, Mister Jones.” The big human goes to his desk. Jones opens the door and is gone. The door closes. The little humans are quiet.
    “Mister Bookmark! Would you please continue for us where Mister Jones, where Mister Whitfield left off?”
    The little human speaks for a long time.
    “I GOT ONE!”
    Wawp looks out at Bird.
    There is silence in the room.
    “Does someone have something to add?” the big human says.
    Humans smaller than the small humans are outside now, playing and screaming. They run beneath Bird. Wawp closes Wawp’s eyes.
    “No?” the big human says. “Well, if one of you ‘has one,’ I think the rest of us would enjoy hearing about it, so feel free. Poe can wait. In the meantime, Miss Raleigh? Could you please tell us what is the significance of the ‘Cask of Amontillado?”
    It is the little human with red hair that Wawp looks at.
    “Ooo . . . Uh . . . It is the wine?”
    “Yes. And?”
    “It’s significant because it’s their wine in the story,” she says.
    “And who is ‘they’?”
    “fortune—atto— . . . And . . . Mon-tres-sor.”
    The big human steps toward it. It is in the center of the humans. “Go on, Miss Raleigh. What do you think Mister Poe is getting at with his cask of Amontillado? Michelle?”
    “Uhm . . .”
    “Uhm. Is there something symbolic about the cask of Amontillado? Do you think?”
    “Symbolic? I mean, yes.”
    “And what is the symbolic significance of the cask of Amontillado?”
    “Uhm . . . Uhm . . The symbolic significance of . . The cask . . . Of Amontillado . . . Is . . . Uhm . . .”
    “I LOST ‘EM!”
    The glass eyes flash over the small humans. “Who said that?”
    Silence.
    “The entire class just earned a reading assignment and a quiz. Tomorrow. And whoever said that, I know you and we will be spending some one-on-one time together very soon.
    “Now, did you read the story, Miss Raleigh?”
    “Yes.” It looks up.
    “Good. Tell me how the story ends, Miss Raleigh.”
    “Uh . . . It ends when he’s like, putting the stones . . .”
    “And who is he, Miss Raleigh?”
    “Edgar, like Allen Poe is putting the stones—“
    “Edgar Allen Poe?”
    “I mean Montressor.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Uhm . . . Yes . . . I think . . .”
    “Do you think the story is funny, Miss Raleigh?”
    “Uhm . . . A little?”
    “Miss Raleigh, how does the story end?”
    It giggles.
    “Miss Raleigh?”
    “With Edgar, I mean Mon-tres-sor putting the stones—“
    “And Miss Raleigh, what is the point?”
    “Uh . . . Uhm . . . I’m not sure. I . . .”
    The little human is under its hair. It looks down.
    “Would anyone like to help out Miss Raleigh with how the story ends?” The big human is loud and walks at the black wall.
    Wawp looks out at Bird like Wawp hears the men with feathers and shells. The feather men like mist pass by Bird, calling Aye-aye, aye-aye-aye-yah. Aye-aye, aye-aye-aye-yah. They know bird. Charcoal and blood, these men rose from the grass on the wind. This place is claimed.
    “Mister Risk, in the back. Something out there we should know about?”
    “Yes, sir. The school is haunted by dead Indians.”
    The little humans turn to look at Wawp.
    “Is that a fact?”
    “That’s a sense.”
    “And how did you come to this conclusion, Mister Risk?”
    “A crow told me.”
    “A crow told you.”
    “Yes, sir. And I’ve sensed them myself, as well, here at the school. We built this school on the highest ground. We moved their graves. That’s a fact.”
    “Mister Risk, I think you read the wrong story. Could you come back and read us the last pages of ‘The Cask of Amontillado?’”
    “Yes.”
    Wawp says something to the little human next to Wawp. “Now!”
    “Mister Risk, do you not have your book?”
    “No.”
    “See me after class. Mister Smith, lend him yours.”
    The little human gives Wawp a book. “Now read,” the large human says.
    Wawp looks down. Wawp turns it around. His voice cracks and settles, easy and alone.
    “It was now midnight, and my task was drawing to a close. I had completed the eighth, the ninth, and the tenth tier . . . . But to these words I hearkened in vain for a reply . .”
    “But to these words I hearkened in vain for a reply,” the big human says on top of the red headed human. “What do you think that means, Miss Raleigh?”
    The little human is still. The little humans are silent. The big human stands over the red head.
    “I . . . don’t . . . know . . . I . . .” The little human brings its hands to its face and cries. The little humans look at it. The big human is looking at Wawp.
    “Mister Risk, would you care to tell us why it is that Mister Fortunato cannot reply to the hearkening of Mister Montressor?”
    Wawp looks at the large human. The red head is crying.
    “Mister Risk?”
    The cries of the little human answer.
    “Mister Risk!”
    “I don’t know. I don’t know why Fortunato doesn’t reply to Montressor. I don’t know.” Wawp looks outside at Bird.
    “Stand up, Mister Risk!”
    Wawp gets up.
    The big human walks to Wawp and the glass eyes look down on Wawp.
    “The way you read, I said to myself, ‘Now here is a smart kid,’ but I was wrong. Are you stupid, then, Mister Risk?”
    “If I was, would I know it?”
    A small human laughs.
    The big human leans forward. “Can you say, ‘I am stupid.’?”
    Wawp stands still.
    “Say it.”
    “You are stupid.”
    Laughter.
    “We wouldn’t here have the source of the outbursts, would we, Mister Risk? You ‘got one?’”
    “No, sir.”
    They came from your direction. I don’t believe you. Mister Smith. Did you hear Mister Risk mouthing off?”
    “I don’t know. I wasn’t looking.”
    “Do you want to sit on the bench forever, Mister Smith?”
    “I heard something, but – I don’t know.”
    “Your teammate can’t cover for you,” the big human says. “You and I, Mister Risk, have a date with the principal. In the meantime, you might do your best to take advantage of this class. Can you say I am stupid?”
    “I . . . am . . . stupid.”
    “Say it again!”
    “I . . . am . . . stupid.”
    “Again! Hustle!”
    “I am stupid.”
    “Again!”
    “I am stupid.”
    “Say it until I tell you to stop!”
    “I am stupid. I am stupid. I am stupid. I am stupid. I am—“
    “Give me the subjective pronouns!”
    Wawp is silent.
    “Today!”
    “Uh . . . I, you, he, she, it, we, you, they.”
    “Again!”
    “I, you, he, she, it, we you, they.”
    “Objective! Now!”
    “Me, you, him, her, it, us, you, them.”
    “The forms of the verb to be, Mister Risk.”
    “Am, is, are, was, were, be, been.”
    “Again!”
    From Bird’s branch, Bird hears Wawp make the warning sounds again and again, speaking things Bird does not understand in a voice that calls out danger.

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