Gray Ghost: Part Three - The Sacrifice




Holding the helpless bird in my hand made me think about how fragile we all are.  How fragile life is.  Suddenly I realized a couple of important things.  Government Guy had not seen the bird.  He had never been in our makeshift spare-bedroom aviary.  Also my wife and I had not said much since Federale Fred had started firing his paper ammunition.  For all he knew it wasn't a California Condor.  Heck, for all we knew it wasn't.  We never had seen one close up before...

I put gray Ghost back down in the incubator and fixed the towel that kept it warm.  Quickly I went to a chest of drawers in a closet on the opposite side of the room.  I took some old clothes out of the bottom drawer and piled them on top of some shoes.  I went in the bathroom and got a couple of fresh towels.  I went back to the closet and crouched down by the drawer and made a soft but secret compartment.  I stole Gray Ghost from his incubator and put him in the little square of toweling in the bottom drawer on the far side in the deep of that closet.  I went back to the bathroom and flushed a fake flush.  I ran some water in the sink, wet my hands and picked up a towel to dry them.  I opened the door walked back up the hall, still drying my hands with the towel.  Government Guy stared at the towel, stared at the towel like he knew.  I shook some of the water off my wrist.  A droplet hit him in the eye.  Broke his concentration.  I looked at my wife.  She started to speak but I shook my head and looked at my hands.  Finished drying them with the towel. Then he asked, "Do you understand the trouble that you're in?" with a twinkle in his eye.

That twinkle in his eye surprised me.  I knew that twinkle and come to think of it, I knew that look.  I said to him, "you're my brother's kid aren't you".  He smiled.  So did I.  Then I started sobbing.  My brother, the practical joker sends his kid - the kid we'd  never seen - over to torment us.  My wife had called my brother's house when we found that bird on the sidewalk that day, seemed as good a reason to "stay in touch" as any.


End - Return To Stories


(c) 1997 L. Van Warren * All Rights Reserved