|
This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN#/ISBN# issue/book “War of Water” cc&d, v282 (the April 2018 issue) Order this as a 6"x9" paperback book:  |
|
|
| ||
Bird Island, Chapter 16: Small Luck (Barn for Rent)
Patrick Fealey
Bird stands in the window. Wawp is talking with the hellophone. “It’s two main rooms with a bathroom and a kitchen . . . It’s the upper level of the barn. The bottom is used for storage . . . The rent is four-seventy-five a month. We pay four-twenty-five, but the landlord is raising it when we move out. Yes, it’s got sun at every time of the day.”
Wawp is talking to Bird with the papers. “Did you get that, Bird? ‘The town council voted unanimously against an extension of the sewer line to the north end of the island’! That’s rough. Do you understand what I mean when I say ‘unanimously?’ It means all of them broke a promise to the people. That council is one of many I’m not going to miss.”
Wawp and Bird are laughing.
Bird sees two humans in the yard. The humans are coming and they are humans like Bird. They hit outside. Wawp stands and walks toward the food room. Bird flies through the house. Bird hears the humans coming up before Wawp goes down. The humans are laughing, talking.
In the food room Wawp looks at the humans and the humans look at Wawp. The humans look like Bird for humans. Where did the humans come from? Why are the black humans here?
“I’m Jacqueline. And this here is my friend Yvonne,” the human in red says.
“I’m Tom. This is Bird. This is the place.”
“That’s a crow, isn’t it?” It has gold in its hair.
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t know people had those as pets,” it says.
Bird flies to the talking one. Bird finds ground on it. “Oh!” It moves its head away.
“He likes you,” Wawp says. “Don’t be afraid.”
“Yvonne’s got a new guy! Are pets allowed?” the red one says.
“I don’t know. He lives outside.”
“What’s he doing to my earring?” the gold one laughs.
“He’s in love with your hair, sister. He says you smell good.”
They are gold wires.
“He’s pulling on them!”
They shine like the dawn.
“Can I pet him?” the other says.
“Sure. He likes it.”
The red one reaches for Bird. The hand is white. It touches Bird’s head.
“He’s soft.”
“Does he come with the place?” the gold one says.
“Well . . . I don’t know yet. I mean . . . He lives in the area. But we’ve thought about taking him with us to California. This island is what he knows, but he thinks of me as his . . . as his something. He isn’t a pet and he isn’t wild. He’s sort of caught. He’s been civilized.”
“We’ll take good care of him,” the gold one says.
“Well, that’s the thing. I try not to feed him and I’ve asked my neighbors not to. Over the years I’ve tried to make him more independent. As you can see, he’s terrified of people. C’mon in.”
The humans move on to the big room. Eyes move and voices go up. Bird rides on the female with the gold as they move through the rooms. The humans talk. The humans laugh. Wawp follows, talking back to the humans.
“Look at that ole tub!” the red one says.
“Yeessireegirl!” the gold one says. “Now that’s a tub you can get into!”
The gold one puts its hand on the red one and they are laughing. In the sleeping room, the red one says something close and low to the gold one and they burst out in laughter, scaring Bird.
In the big room again.
“Who’s the landlord?” the red one asks.
“The Buckners,” Wawp says.
“I know her. White hair, blue eyes.”
“They live right here, in the house across the yard. She’s usually out there working on her garden.”
“How are they for landlords?” the red one asks.
“Honestly, they’re the best landlords I’ve ever had. One time we put the rent check in the wrong mailbox. They have two, one which they don’t use. That’s the one I put the rent in. The Smiths waited almost a month before they asked about it.”
“I want it.”
“Good,” Wawp says. “Can you move in on the first of August?”
“That’s perfect. I can talk to the Buckners too. I’ll give them a call.”
Outside in the grass, the gold one says, “It’s so cute!”
“That’s what my girlfriend said the first time she saw the place,” Wawp says.
“Help me give you your bird back,” the gold one says.
“If you walk far enough, he’ll fly back,” Wawp says.
“Not with those twenty-four-carat gold hoops,” says the red one. “He’s not giving up ‘til he gets one of those.”
“Alright, Bird.” Wawp offers his finger. Bird steps onto Wawp. “Bird is into metals. He’ll go for the dime every time, even though the nickel is bigger. Maybe a dime reflects more light, I don’t know. It could be genetic. Dimes used to be silver.”
“Bet he loves quarters,” the red one says.
“Oh yeah.”
“Of course,” says the gold one. “There’s a bird on them.”
“Looks like you found someone, Bird.”
The human bangs on the door and Wawp leaves his food on the table in the food room. Bird has time, but Wawp will shut the window for days. Bird stands on the window edge and waits for Wawp and the human to come up. The human is talking, “I’m looking for something a little better than the Navy housing, but not as expensive as Newport.”
It comes into the big room and sees Bird. It says to Wawp, “Your crow?”
Wawp says, “Yes.”
“Does it talk?”
“Sometimes.”
It walks fast to the sleeping room and it comes back and says “Thanks.”
Bird watches it get into its car and turns back to Wawp. Wawp is eating.
It is young and pink. no flower, a blanket. It walks slowly with its head down, looking at the floor. Wawp says things to it and it does not talk. It nods and holds a finger to its mouth. Wawp stops talking to it. It walks for the sleeping room and Wawp moves with it. It stands in the opening looking into the dim sleeping room. It strokes its long hair. Wawp is behind it. It stands and Wawp stands. What is happening? Who are the humans at Wawp’s house looking at Wawp’s house? Are these mates from outside? What is happening to the life of Wawp and Jess?
“Is it quiet?” it asks.
“usually.”
“Hmm.”
A car rolls into the yard below Bird. The female runs to the window, shouting: “There’s the sonofabitch!” Bird jumps. “Holy shit! <>IDid you see that bird?” it screams at Wawp.
Bird lands on the roof.
Bird flies down to the window ledge as the human goes into the house. Wawp lets it in. In the food room, it pushes past Wawp and meets the pink human in the big room.
“Whatta ya think, hon?” the pink human says.
“It could work,” it says.
“Come and see the bedroom,” the pink human says.
Bird drops to the grass. The silver on the side says “CAMARO.” Bird flies up to the window. Bird drops down onto the seat. Bird does it. Bird doesn’t sit in it.
Wawp says to the hellophone, “You’ve got a reporter opening in South County? A raise? . . . One day I’m laid off and the next you’re asking me to come back. I don’t know what to say. Can I think about it? . . . It’s just that I’ve been talking to these editors out in California and they really like my stuff, and you know me, I’ve been wanting to go out there. How about I let you know tomorrow? Stevenson . . Thanks.”
“ICACREAM!”
“How many people have shared an ice cream cone with a pterodactyl?” Wawp says.
“I thought we weren’t feeding him,” Jess says.
“We don’t know how much longer we have. He may not be coming.”
“He’s more emotionally dependent on you now than he ever was. I was kind of looking forward to driving cross-country with two winos.”
“Okay, Jennifer Juniper.”
“I’m afraid when we get to California it’s going to be more like Roxanne.”
“Bird will make an easy first client.”
“I can see Bird as a pimp, but quarters and clothes pins aren’t going to cut it.”
“ICACREAM!”
“He’s got the food words,” Wawp says.
“He knows the sex ones too, and the profane. He told Sue to, to ‘cuck-cawff’ today.”
“Close enough,” Wawp laughs. “Why? I mean other than the fact that she’s a bitch and he hates her and she hates him?”
“She caught him with the cord out of her sweatpants. He took off and came back without it. She called him a ‘sky rat’ and threw a hairbrush at him. He was sitting on the saw horses and just said it.”
“What did she say?”
“Nothing, at first.” Jess says. “I think he surprised her. She looked at him. Then she told him to ‘go to hell’ and turned and walked off.”
“I bet she regrets responding. You know, it elevates this animal she hates.”
“Probably.”
“These birds have greater vocabularies than we do. they usually don’t use their potential. ‘caw!’ can mean ‘i want to mate with you,’ ‘come look at this food i found,’ ‘come here,’ ‘hello,’ and ‘i’m happy.’ context dictates meaning.”
“Their lives are simpler,” Jess says.
“Yes, but a crow can sing a symphony that would get him into Julliard. I’ve heard it. Bird can get down and into some wholly funky shit. It’s mesmerizing, like he’s singing all the parts of a symphony.”
The sky is red and the trees are still. Jess is with Wawp and Bird. The white head human who talks and talks and stops Wawp and Bird from going is in the yard, carrying a brown bag of food. Its face is not the smiling face. It looks at Wawp, but does not talk like it talks and talks.
“We’ve had a lot of calls on the place,” Wawp says. “Almost everyone is interested.”
It is looking at Wawp with blue eyes wound and pale.
“We haven’t picked one yet, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem,” Wawp says.
“I was called by one yesterday,” the white head says.
Wawp nods. “We thought we’d let the ad run the rest of the week and see what we have.”
“No,” it says. “We’ve changed our minds. We don’t want you to rent it out. You just go and don’t worry about it.”
“But it’s no problem-”
“No. I know that Jacqueline’s family and they’re no good, believe me. They’ve never been anything but trouble.”
Wawp looks over her face. The blue eyes are quivering. The white head turns and walks. It goes into its house.
“I’m confused,” Jess says.
“There goes the deposit.”
“I don’t understand it,” Jess says.
“I’ve seen it before.”
“What was this Jacqueline girl like, anyway?”
“She wasn’t like most of this town.”
