I settled into a chair opposite Nick. "I think I know what you're going to say."
"It won't hurt you to hear me out," he said. Then he grinned, breaking the sour mood. "You've cooped yourself up in this little place long enough. You're not mourning."
Sally gasped. Nick ignored her.
"Can I say that without hurting your feelings?'' he asked. "We've been friends a long time."
I mumbled something, and he continued.
"You're not mourning, but you miss her. Rhoda dictated your every move. Don't interrupt---you know it's true. And suddenly the line has been cut. You're floating around with no direction."
"He's right," Sally added. "We'd like to help."
I was touched by their concern. Nick waited for a reply. For a moment I considered telling them about the bird on the porch.
"Nick wouldn't understand," I said to myself. "And Sally would treat me like a sick child."
Instead I asked, "What if I promise to get out more and eat better?"
Nick shook his head. "That's not enough, David. Something's bothering you. We're not blind."
"I'm fine," I said too loudly. They didn't buy it.
"We've always been close, David," Sally said. "Nick and I only want what's best for you."
I took a deep breath and turned around. "Rhoda's bird is gone," was all I said.
Nick waved toward the empty cage. "So I noticed. What happened?"
"It got loose. Out there. But it's hanging around. Until now it just sat on the rail and watched me, talking to itself."
"Talking?" asked Sally. "What did it say?
I laughed and returned to my chair. "What did that bird ever say? It nags me---just like Rhoda did. It tells me to comb my hair, eat my vegetables, clean up my mess."
Nick said, "You can teach it something else. A talking mynah should make a good pet for you while you get your life together again."
"I confess when it comes to pets, I prefer Alex to Mac."
"Who's Mac?" they asked together.
Blood rushed into my face. "Patty is such a sissy name for a mynah, so I renamed it."
"Nothing wrong with that," Sally assured me. "I'd have done the same thing."
Nick went to get some coffee from the kitchen. He talked while he poured. "I'll bet if you set up the cage on your porch, you'd find Mac inside come morning."
"Let's try it," I said. If nothing else, I figured I could sell the bird for a few hundred bucks. Maybe something good could come from that feathered brat.
Sally helped me set up the cage outside. We filled the bowls with food and left the wire door gaping.
"I hope this works," Sally said. "It's such a pretty, pretty bird."
I wasn't surprised the next morning when I peered out and saw Mac sitting on top of the cage. The food inside remained untouched.
"I hope you starve to death," I grumbled. The waves of fear had passed with the darkness. In the bright light of a sunny morning, it seemed silly to be terrified by a bird.
Before Nick and Sally had left the night before, they'd made me promise to speak to my father-in-law. I dressed quickly and gulped my breakfast. I had to get over to the campus before my courage drained off. As I marched out the kitchen door, I kept my face forward and refused to glance toward the porch. If the mynah wanted to follow me around, let it.
President Snider was in. President Snider was always in. He was as much a fixture at the university as the huge bronze lion in front of the library building.
"Good morning, David," he said to me from behind his wide desk. I closed the office door and accepted an offer to sit down. "What can I do for you?"
My father-in-law was never one to waste time with chitchat. I unknotted my hands and charged ahead.
"I would like permission to return to work. I need to keep busy. And Professor Lansky says the department could use my help."
He watched me without saying a word. I felt myself shrink under his gaze. Moments ticked past, and still he said nothing. I tried not to squirm in my seat. At first his rudeness puzzled me. Then I became annoyed. When at last he formed a reply, I was downright angry.
"I'm glad you came to see me today, David," he said. "I was going to ask you here when your week was up anyway."
I wanted to point out that his own work hadn't been cut short by his daughter's death. But I kept silent.
He swiveled toward the window and pressed his fingertips into a tepee under his chin.
"When my daughter was a little girl, she had a hard time playing with other children. She always insisted on being the leader. But she didn't like the duties that leadership demanded. She wanted credit, but she didn't want to work for it. She became bored easily."
He tapped his fingertips together, still looking outside. "Rhoda was a complex child, and a complex woman. She needed to marry a strong man who would control her. I thought you were too weak to make her a good husband."
His opinion of me was no secret. It had shown on his face every day since the wedding.
"I did my best, sir," I said quietly.
He seemed not to hear. "You amused her at first with your Yankee farmboy style. But Rhoda stopped being happy when she saw that her Prince Charming was only a toad all along."
I scowled. No one likes to be compared with a toad.
"David, I'll get to the point. You were put on staff here because you married my daughter. Your teaching skills are fair, but hardly special. Frankly, I don't see a future for you here now that Rhoda is . . . out of the picture.''
Had I heard him right? Was he letting me go, firing me from my job?
He swiveled back to me and leveled his hard brown eyes at mine. He was playing a waiting game, to see how I'd react. I held his stare for as long as I could, until my guts were about to explode.
Then I laughed. Right out loud I laughed.
For the first time in ten years, I caught Snider off guard. His jaw fell open and then tightened. His neck glowed cherry red. It was as if I'd turned into a clown and was doing tricks on his big fancy desk.
Tears of laughter slid down my cheeks as I tried to calm down. Snider buzzed his secretary and told her to bring me a drink of water. I shook too hard to thank her, but I gulped the water down.
"Get hold of yourself, Culpepper,"
Snider snapped at last.
I'd obviously made him mad. Oddly enough, I didn't care. I didn't care about William Randolph Snider. I didn't care about my lousy job. I didn't care about anything.
He started to explain further, but I stopped him.
"Don't tell me," I said, grinning. I held up one hand and wiped my eyes with the other. "I don't need to know. This is the final chapter of ten years down the drain. Most fitting, I'd say."
I bounded to my feet. "I'm only thirty-one years old. I went through hell for one third of my life. And you tell me it's my fault. I bent over backward for your selfish, spoiled daughter, and what's my reward? Guilt. She laid it on me, and now you lay it on me."
I advanced to his desk and rested my knuckles on its edge. The redness crept into Snider's face. I spoke in a soft, calm voice.
"I have to thank you, President Snider. A fish in a bowl doesn't know it's a prisoner until someone shows him a lake. Rhoda netted me, and you provided the bowl. But I'm free now. So I thank you."
I smiled ever so sweetly. Then I walked out of his office and gently closed the door.
I cleaned up the apartment and made plans for moving.
Alex sensed the change. As I packed, he followed at my heels, afraid to let me out of his sight.
"Don't worry, little guy. You're coming with me."
The drapes stayed tightly drawn. If the mynah were out there, I refused to put on a show for it. Let the blasted beast get cold and bored. Maybe it would go away.
I hummed while I worked. The more I thought about New York and seeing the family again, the happier I got. I did not think about Rhoda. I even forgot the "guard" on my front porch.
The next day I would fl
y away by myself, or at least drive away. Now I could go where I wanted, when I wanted. And no crabby woman was going to stop me.
I found the old cloth bag that had come with me to Florida so long ago. One by one I yanked out dresser drawers. The Salvation Army could have the tweeds and sports jackets. I wouldn't need them for driving a tractor. Rhoda's belongings could go with them.
The suitcase was only half-full when I zipped it up. I sealed books and a few personal items in boxes. The landlord could get rid of everything else.
Before heading to bed, I switched off the lights and checked the porch. The cage sat where we had left it. The bird was perched on top, with one of its orange legs tucked up into its belly. It stood like a statue in the moonlight---except its eyes were alert and watchful.
My dreams were filled with awful visions of Rhoda. Her fat body grew larger, her voice grew louder, and she wouldn't stop talking. None of her words made sense.
"Where's your paycheck? Take me out to dinner! You skinny good-for-nothing hayseed. When are you going to make something of yourself?''
I awoke in a pool of sweat. But the nightmare was just beginning. The mynah leered at me from the headboard, directly over my face.
"When can we afford a decent home? Why did I marry a farm boy?"
I shut my eyes, but I couldn't close my ears.
"Pick that up! You're a lazy bum. How dare you say that! Why did you let me die?"
"This isn't happening. This isn't real!" I screamed to myself.
"Turn down the radio! Wash the dishes! Why didn't you save me?"
Tears ran down my face. Groans of protest and pain welled up in my throat.
Something moved on the bed.
"Alex! Come here, boy. Attack! Attack!"
The cat stretched, purring. Purring! What was wrong with him?
"Alex, help me!"
He curled up against my side and fell asleep.
I must have slept at last, because I don't remember the bird flying away. Alex formed a fluffy ball against my side, as if nothing had happened. When I awoke the next morning, the sheets were soaked with sweat.
Trembling, I shoved off the covers and tried to stand. My stomach felt as if it were full of dough. My head was on fire. I stumbled into the bathroom and swallowed three aspirins.
The face in the mirror looked about fifty, and a worn fifty at that.
"We're getting out of here," I said to Alex. I threw on pants and a shirt and grabbed the suitcase.
Three trips to the car was enough to transfer all my belongings. If the mynah watched from the porch, I didn't know it. I refused to even look.
With a whistle to Alex, I climbed into the car. No stupid bird was going to stop me now.
After I had driven for an hour, my head cleared a bit. My heart slowed down to its normal pace. Alex balanced himself on the top of the seat and gazed out the window.
"You'll like the farm," I told him. "Lots of mice, and other cats, too. You'll have fun chasing the chickens."
By the time we reached Georgia, I felt like a new man. Fears from the night before dimmed under the bright southern sun.
"It was a bad dream," I said to Alex, who purred as I stroked him with a free hand. "And you were in it, pretending there wasn't a bird chewing me out."
At a roadside restaurant, we shared a tuna sandwich. I had an urge to call Nick and Sally and explain why I'd left without saying good-bye. But what could I say? A nightmare in the form of a pet bird drove me from home?
That night, snug in a North Carolina motel bed, my dreams were free of birds and nagging wives. Instead I saw visions of the farm and my family.
My folks didn't know I was coming. How surprised they would be! And how happy! My sisters and brothers and their dozen kids would gather around me, talking all at once. Dad would take me around the farm and show me his new equipment. Mom would cook up secret family recipes to fatten me up in no time.
They regretted Rhoda's death. Of course, they had to. Mom had offered to fly down for the funeral. But I told her it wasn't necessary.
If I were a disappointment as a son-in-law, Rhoda didn't score well in Mom's book, either. Not that my mother complained, because she didn't.
I asked her once why she and my wife weren't friends.
"Rhoda puts on airs," Mom answered in her quiet way. That's the worst she ever said about my wife---and the best.
Alex and I saw the sunrise from the inside of my speeding car. We had the highway to ourselves. I sang songs, old ones from when I was a teenager. The cat and I carried on long conversations. They were mostly one-sided, but he seemed to listen.
I felt great. I felt free. The world was mine once again.
When the mynah bird flashed out of nowhere and lunged at the windshield, I never saw it coming. . . .
I'm dead.
Those were my first thoughts when I woke up. My eyes refused to open. They hurt too much. The rest of my body felt as if it weren't there. The numbness that held my arms and legs tried to grab my brain, but I fought it.
An acid smell cut through the cotton that stuffed up my head. There was no mistaking it. I'm in a hospital," I thought.
I wanted to be frightened. But at that moment, fear was beyond me.
"He's coming around!" a woman's voice exclaimed.
"Sally's here," my brain said. But I argued with it. "I'm in North Carolina. She's in Florida."
"David, dear, it's me. Sally."
So she was here. I tried to smile, to say hello, but my mouth had disappeared.
"Don't try to talk. Your jaw's wired shut," she said.
"David?" a man's voice said.
So Nick was here, too. I tried to greet him, but my mouth didn't respond.
"It's Nick. Can you open your eyes?"
With great effort, I pulled my lids apart---and instantly shut them.
I was surrounded by white---white walls, white sheets, white light, and a sea of white clothes. Pale faces studied me with concern. Nick and Sally were there with a couple of nurses. I felt like a circus freak.
And sitting on the bed next to my feet was Rhoda's bird. It formed a black splash in the middle of all that white.
"Daaavid. Daaavid! Thought you could get away from me, didn't you?"
Rhoda's needle-sharp voice dug at me. A wash of pain shot through my entire body. I began shaking.
"You wanted me to die," it accused. "You're glad that I'm dead."
"Go away!"
A cool hand touched my arm. I jerked it away.
Sally was crying when she spoke. "David, please. It's Sally, remember? You've been in an accident. Your car hit a lamppost out on the expressway."
The hand touched me again, and this time it felt good.
"A trucker found you, and the police called the university. Remember the special parking sticker on your car? That's how they knew where you worked."
"Keep talking, Sally. Then I can't hear the bird," I thought.
"Nick and I came as soon as we could. You've been sleeping for three days."
"Impossible," I said to myself.
"We phoned your parents, and they're on their way."
That's when I thought about Alex. He had been in the car! The white light burned my eyes as they opened. The bird ruffled its feathers.
"Where's Alex?" I tried to ask Sally without words.
One of the nurses pressed two fingers into my wrist and measured my pulse.
"Where's my cat?" I demanded again, stroking my hand across the sheet.
Sally looked to her husband. "He's asking about Alex," she said.
My gaze shifted to Nick. The bird still watched me.
"Don't worry," Nick said kindly. "Alex is fine.
Sally dried her tears. "See, dear? Everything's going to be all right."
Rhoda's voice interrupted. "What about me?"
I tried to swallow, but my throat felt as if it were filled with sand. The mynah ogled me with one shiny black eye.
"You shouldn't have let me die,
David," it said. "You wanted me to die."
"No, Rhoda," I answered. "I didn't want you dead. I just wanted you to stop nagging me. I needed some peace and quiet. Was that too much?"
The nurse was telling Nick and Sally they would have to go.
"Wait a minute," I pleaded silently. "There's a bird on my bed. Take it with you."
They were crossing toward the door.
"Wait, wait! What about the bird?"
Of course, they couldn't hear me. My jaw was broken.
Sally stopped in the doorway and waved. She tried to smile, but I could see a worried look on her face.
The door fell shut silently. A single nurse remained, fussing around me while she hummed to herself. The mynah didn't budge. I closed my eyes.
The bird spoke. "They're lying, you know."
"Go away," I pleaded.
"Alex is dead. You killed him, too."
"You're the one that's lying!"
It laughed---a horrible, evil laugh that didn't sound so much like Rhoda anymore. "I'm telling you the truth. You killed your wife. You killed your cat. What a shame you didn't kill yourself, too."
"Alex is alive! Sally and Nick said so!"
"And you believe them? Don't be a fool. They'll wait until you're stronger before they tell you the truth," the bird said.
Friends don't lie. The mynah wanted to hurt me. It was planting seeds of doubt just to confuse me.
I had to protect myself from its words. Inside my head I pictured a big blank wall. All other images were shut off.
"You can't block me out, David. You did a bad, bad thing. Now you have to live with it."
For a long time nothing more was said. The bird still sat there---I could sense it. Silence was building. Any minute now I was going to burst.
I tried to reason with myself. "Don't let your guilt get the better of you. Rhoda's death was an accident. Alex is alive and waiting for you. Only you can make this evil bird go away."
With great care, I relaxed. Then calmly, ever so calmly, I talked to the bird with my eyes still closed.
"I am blameless. You have no control over me. You are not here. You have no reality."
At first it said nothing. Then it laughed again, more faintly. With a fading voice, Rhoda spoke one last time.
The Bird Page 2
