Gray Ghost: Part Two

Gray Ghost: Part Two - The Trap

He went sat back down and pulled some more papers from his college-boy graduation leather briefcase. He said, "these are the Federal fines that apply to what you have done". There were several lines of numbers that looked like a cross between an income tax form and a traffic ticket, only the numbers had five digits instead of four; Money we would never see. I was even more aghast. Not because of the forms or his asswipe demeanor, no - I felt bad for threatening him. I told him. "There's something you need to understand. There's only two things we care about, our family, and animals". Suddenly like Jabba-the-Hut shrunk into the Monopoly banker he stonefaced. "Can't help you there, but the Federal penitentary time tends to be much worse than the city jails or state prison". A flight of ideas seized me with this remark. "Did this guy have a death wish? Had he told his supervisor where he was going before he left? Suddenly that bird was the end of the road. Would my kids would be wards of the state while me and the Mrs. took turns getting gang raped? No thanks. I should have let that bird fry in the sun. No, I love birds. I love my family. It's Government Guy who needs to fry in the sun..."

The tension in the room was thick. I felt sick. I excused myself to go to the bathroom. City College Calhoun got up to follow - like he owned the place again - but my wife blocked his way with a smile. With the sound of footsteps echoing in my ears I walked down the hall. Thank God, there was a door from the bathroom to the aviary - made cleaning the cages easier. I stopped momentarily in the bathroom and quietly closed the door. The aviary door leading to the hallway was closed. I walked silently into the bird room. I went over to the incubator that kept Gray Ghost warm. I picked up the helpless creature. For the first time I understood the meaning of sacrifice. My thumb and forefinger nuzzled the head of the bird. It's wings shifted. Its baby talons gently gripped my other hand. One grip, one twist and a flush and this trial would be over...

Go To Part Three