by Justin Sloan
Brooke was still staring at the necklace, lying in her bed in bewilderment, when her mom entered.
Her mom paused in the doorway, head down. “Your father was so good at this kind of thing. I’m trying, honey.” She looked up to see Brooke with the necklace. “What do you have there?”
Brooke didn’t respond. She was too mad at her mom for letting her dad leave.
Her mom frowned as she leaned in to inspect the necklace. “Your dad’s mom used to tell stories about wild adventures, always involving a necklace just like this.”
“Really?”
“Maybe you can have adventures now too, huh? And tell Mom all about them.”
“You wouldn’t care.”
“Of course I care, hon. I always care. This is just a really hard time for all of us.” Her mom sat and began to caress Brooke’s hair. She paused and bent over to pick up the note that had fallen out with the necklace. “Where’d you get this?”
Brooke shrugged, not in a very talkative mood.
“I don’t understand,” her mom said, choked up. “It just says, ‘Be back by sunrise.’” Her eyes showed slight recognition. Her finger traced the writing as if she had seen it before. She went to the window and stared for a moment at the orange and red sky, purple at the horizon.
“He’s up there watching us, I’m sure of it.” Her mom looked back to Brooke with a sad smile.
Brooke turned over in bed. When her mom left, Brooke held the necklace up so the stone dangled in front of her face. She wondered where it had come from and why it glowed. Why had her dad left it for her? With a yawn, she slipped the chain around her neck.
Time passed, and Brooke found herself drifting toward sleep, her breaths slowing. She rotated onto her back and rubbed her eyes. The necklace glowed. She covered the stone with her hand, but the glow intensified.
She felt a warm throbbing in her hand.
Her eyes popped open as a lavender and violet light emanated from the necklace to fill the room. The light twirled around and entered her body, engulfing her. The room seemed to spin. The light pulsated and grew blindingly bright. She closed her eyes tight with fear, and wanted to scream. When the light faded, she opened her eyes to see that everything looked so much bigger, and distorted in a strange way.
She hopped up, noticing that her bed now seemed the size of her whole living room. What was happening? Why was she hopping? She looked down to see tiny bird legs! Her eyes crossed to look at the beak where her nose should be. She even had beautiful red wings! This couldn’t be happening.
Brooke flapped her wings clumsily, confused, disoriented. She tried to rub her eyes, then flapped and yelped when she saw that she had flown into the air. Forgetting to flap, she fell back onto the sheets. Again she flapped, slowly realizing what she was now capable of. She started flying around the room, clumsily at first. She nearly hit a wall, but dived and landed with a flop into a pile of clothes in the corner. It didn’t hurt, at least—not with all that cushioning.
She got some air, and flew straight into the side of her bed. That one hurt a bit more. She recovered and then managed to hop-fly to the windowsill. The window was closed. A reflection of a bird stared back—a red cardinal. The glow of a tiny necklace was also reflected in the window, pulsating dimly around the little bird’s neck, and she realized that the necklace must have shrunk with her. She looked at her reflection in the window and inspected her new wings and feathers. Was this even possible? The little necklace seemed to glow brighter in response.
Something from outside responded in the sky, a familiar bright light. Brooke hopped closer and looked to see a star shining. Her necklace glowed bright again and the star sparkled in response.
“Dad…?”
A meow came from the other side of Brooke’s door and she looked back at what now appeared to be a massive room. Her little bird legs trembled and a second meow made her shudder. Imagine if Oreo got in with her like this!
A scratch came at the door and Brooke decided she wasn’t going to stick around and let that happen. This magic must be happening for a reason, and she had to figure out that reason. She put her little bird feet against the wall and pushed with her back against the window edge, struggling, and fell. The second time she found a better position and with a massive push she managed to get the window to open several inches—an opening just big enough for a little bird to squeeze through. Brooke hopped forward, feeling the cool air against her feathery cheeks.
This meant leaving her mom and brother. She took a moment with that thought. She stared back at her door and told herself that they would be okay without her, for a little while. Her dad had made her promise to take care of her mom, but right now she had a feeling that he needed her. She couldn’t give up on her dad. She refused to.
She spread her wings and ran. The wind took her into the air in a fresh embrace. As she soared into the night sky, two pigeons watching below exchanged a “Coo-coo!” of surprise.
Chapter 3: Never Giving Up
With a great flap of her wings, Brooke flew higher into the open sky. She felt her worries drifting away with the leaves that blew past. A gust of wind lifted her, but then her left wing folded and she veered too far to the left—a tree loomed right before her! She overcompensated with her right wing and then shrieked as she lost control. She fell headfirst, the ground fast approaching.
She struggled, flapping hard. Spiraling down, she felt the cold rush of air coursing through her feathers. At the last second, the wind caught in her wings and she flapped back up. Perhaps she was starting to get the hang of this. She glided with her eyes closed, the wind carrying her. She dipped, and then rose again with a laugh.
“Whoo-hoo-hooo!” she yelled out as the wind twirled her around and brought her up and over the trees.
Tall apartment buildings rose around her. She passed windows, flickering televisions, and a toddler who saw her and jumped up excitedly. At the next window, she spotted a family eating dinner. She paused, flapping to stay in place. A little girl giggled as her dad messed her hair.
Brooke couldn’t handle it. She felt her eyes growing moist and didn’t want to cry, so she turned to the sky and flapped hard to get away from the scene.
She rose fast, higher and higher, then loop-de-looped. It wasn’t fair. That girl could have her dad and Brooke was left alone. She let out a sigh and fell into a peaceful glide, watching the city sprawled out in blues and blinking yellows below her. This was happening for a reason though, she was sure of it. She looked to the moon and the stars above, then pushed herself to fly even higher, up and up toward the heavens.
The bright star glimmered and she flew for it, calling “Daaad!”
The higher and faster she flew, the more energy each flap of her wings took. A moment of dizziness struck, but she pushed on. Everything smelled like the mountains. Droplets of water touched her cheek, and she felt her eyes rolling back. She reached a peak of her flight, unable to go on. Her wings ached and each breath was more difficult than the last.
The star sparkled bright.
In barely a whisper, with one last flap of her wings, she called out to the star, “Dad...?”
And then she tumbled down, wispy clouds shooting past her. A tree branch smacked against her, and then another. The ground approached fast and she struggled with the branches, trying to pull herself up, but she couldn’t stop the fall.
Out of nowhere, something slammed into her. A soft something—a bird! Its wings wrapped around her and pulled her sideways to narrowly avoid the hard cement of the sidewalk. They rolled across the dirt, dust, and leaves before rolling into a freezing puddle. Brooke shrieked and struggled, unsure if she could swim with these feathers. The bird that had caught her now pulled her out of the water and onto dry land.
Her feathers hung from her body, soaked, and her beak chattered with the cold. She looked down at the bird and said, “Wh-what’ya think y-you’re doing?”
He stared back defiantly. “Saving your tail feathers.”
“You coulda killed me!”
He flicked some dirt with his foot. “You were the one dive bombing the ground.”
“I…. Well, I….” She shook her feathers dry and glared at him. He was a bit blurry due to her moist eyes. Whether that was from the puddle or the incredible sorrow she felt, she couldn’t be sure. He had a boyish look to him. The white stripe between his eyes made Brooke wonder if this was that same swallow who had tapped on her window.
The swallow shook his head at her. “All I’m saying is that we fly, we don’t fall. It’s dangerous.” He stopped and looked at her, really seeing her now. “Is something wrong?”
“No. I—I just thought that maybe I could get to…. That I could fly to….”
“Yeah?”
“It’s stupid,” she said, but he waited. “I was trying to fly to Heaven, okay?”
The bird fluffed his feathers and puffed out his chest. “It’s not stupid. I know the way.”
“What? You do?”
He flapped into the air. “The name’s Roy. Follow me.”
And then he was off. She watched with disbelief, wiped her tears with her wing, and then followed. She pushed hard, trying to catch up with him, but it was apparent he had been using his wings longer than she had. He smiled back with pride and led her through a patch of scarlet leaves before darting under a fallen tree. They entered an area of dense bushes that smelled strongly of pine and sap, and for a moment she thought she had lost him. A whistle sounded from above and she looked up to see Roy landing on a tree branch. She flapped up to join him.
He reached with his wing to the leaves before them. “Are you ready?”
He moved the leaves aside to reveal the most beautiful scene Brooke had ever encountered. The moonlight glittered on a babbling brook that cut through deep green grass. Birds played in a miniature waterfall. Within the circle of evergreens, trees of bright red and orange surrounded birds that flew, chirped, and twirled all around. She stared, amazed. It all seemed so perfect. But not perfect enough.
She turned to him, eyes narrowing. “Is this a joke to you?”
“What? Of course not.”
She poked him in the chest with a feather. “This isn’t Heaven!”
She shoved him and he fell back, caught the wind and flew down to the ground as she followed. He landed, backing up while she advanced.
“My dad always said so,” Roy defended himself. “This is Heaven. Paradise.”
She grabbed him, but noticed the other birds were all looking their way. With a sigh she released him, and the other birds continued with their fun. She collapsed to the ground in frustration.
“It’s a different kind of Heaven,” she said.
Roy, hesitant, lowered himself beside her. “I was just trying to help.”
She stared at him and sniffled. “Sorry. It’s not your fault.”
He played with the dirt beside him, scratching it with his foot. He glanced up at her.
“What?” she asked.
“It’s just, I’ve never seen a red bird with blue eyes before.”
She thought about this, wondering if she had ever seen a bird with colored eyes at all. She hoped it didn’t give her away, but for now at least, this bird didn’t seem to think too much of it.
“My name’s Brooke,” she said.
Roy tilted his head. “There’s another place I can show you, if you want.”
“No, you don’t get it.”
“I’m trying to.”
“You can’t, nobody can.” She wished it weren’t true, but she was starting to realize it. Perhaps she had known all along that her dad was gone and that there was nothing she could do about it. Perhaps her mom was telling the truth, that they would be together again someday far in the future. But right now, that didn’t seem good enough.
They both stared at the dirt in silence, Brooke drawing stars with one of her wings. Something registered in her mind and she glanced up at Roy, who seemed to have noticed too. Complete silence. They looked at their surroundings to see that the other birds were all gone.
A swooshing of wings sounded from above.
Chapter 4: Bad Bird Trollay
Brooke and Roy looked up to see a large raven, four times their size and pure black but for a missing patch of feathers on his left breast. Roy scampered over to Brooke to defend her. The raven landed with a cloud of dirt rising around him. His black eyes showed a hint of red as he glared down at her over his razor-sharp beak.
“My minions tell me there’s a new bird in my clearing,” the raven said. “A bird with a special something I may want.”
Roy trembled, but took a step forward. “Back off, Bad Bird Trollay!”
Trollay laughed. “Little birds like you need to learn your place.” He spread his massive wings and Roy cowered back. Brooke ducked behind Roy with a yelp. Trollay’s eyes darted to her necklace and he paused, mystified by it.
“Ah, so the pigeons spoke the truth.” Trollay reached for her with his grimy feathers.
“That’s mine!” she said, before remembering she was terrified.
Trollay looked startled. “You have one chance, little bird. Hand it over.”
“No.” She covered the necklace with her wing and shook her head.
Trollay charged forward and Brooke and Roy took to the sky. Trollay followed in pursuit. Brooke looked back to see the moonlight reflect from Trollay’s spread talons.
“Dive!” Roy called and Brooke responded just in time.
They dove as Trollay careened past. They turned back and heard the swoosh of wings as Trollay corrected his trajectory and continued the pursuit. Brooke and Roy zigzagged between small trees and bushes.
“CAW-CAW!” Trollay called from close behind.
“This way,” Roy said.
Brooke followed him through a patch of blackberries, thorns nearly poking her at each turn, but they lost Trollay. They emerged into the open sky and thought they were safe, until the moonlight disappeared—she looked up to see Trollay descending on them. She flew for the nearest tree, looked back to see Trollay hot on her tail, and then turned her head back just in time to see the tree right in front of her! With all her might, she pushed up and narrowly avoided colliding with the tree. She circled it, careful not to slam into branch after branch.
Trollay reached the tree and pushed off with his talons. He followed like a flying lion pursuing its prey. He flapped and leapt, staying in close with surprising agility for his size. Brooke looked back and screamed, but then heard a loud humming from ahead. She turned just in time to see a wasps’ nest directly in her flight path. Narrowly missing it, she sighed in relief and then turned with joy to see Trollay had no such luck—with a loud thump the raven collided with the nest and the hum became an irate buzzing as the wasps exacted their revenge on this intruder.
Not waiting to see what happened next, Brooke spotted Roy flying below and flapped toward him. Above, Trollay’s screams echoed through the night as the two little birds circled back to the clearing and caught their breath.
“I can’t believe you did that!” Roy said.
Brooke held her wing to her chest. “We escaped.”
A swoosh sounded from above, then, “Wanna bet? I ain’t done yet!”
They looked up to see Trollay, wings spread, coming in for a landing just behind them. Red bumps rose through his feathers, covering his body. He cringed with pain as his feet hit the dirt.
“No bird...” he winced, “…pulls a fast one…” and his legs almost gave out, “…on Bad Bird Trollay!” He snapped out, his menacing beak less than an inch from Brooke. Brooke flapped away, half-flying half-running, as Trollay stretched out his talons.
A large swallow slammed right into the side of Trollay. The raven howled out at the pain of the other bird hitting his stings. The swallow pulled itself up and stood tall as Trollay spun to face his attacker.
“Back down,” the large swallow said, puffing out her chest. “Seems you’ve forgotten the last lesso
n I taught you.”
Trollay began to lunge at her with beak opened wide and talons at the ready, but he hesitated. He glanced at a bare patch on his wing, where he must have been injured before, possibly by this other bird as his timid look to the swallow told Brooke. He stepped back but said, “You’re no better than mice, you hear?”
The large swallow turned to Roy. “Get going. Go on, shoo!”
“Yes, Momma,” Roy said and sputtered off into the air, Brooke following. She hadn’t considered that the large swallow might have been Roy’s mom. She had just been happy for the help, wherever it came from. They flew into the night, gliding in silence, the only sound a rapid thudding of Brooke’s heartbeat.
“Will she be alright?” Brooke asked.
Momma Swallow flapped up behind them. “She doesn’t have to worry. Who is this, Roy, who?”
“Sorry momma,” Roy said. “It’s just….”
“I don’t want to hear it! You put you and your friend in danger.”
“I’m Brooke. Sorry.”
Momma Swallow turned her head sharply and flew ahead, no longer listening. Roy shared a look with Brooke and then flew on, head down. They approached a grouping of trees, not far from Brooke’s house, and as they grew close Brooke heard chirping that soon became the sound of two little swallows.
“Food food, give me food,” said one voice.
“To not would be so rude,” said the next.
Then together, “So don’t be rude, food food food!”
Brooke followed Roy and his mom to land at the nest where the little swallows chirped, tiny and adorable. They flapped their little wings in excitement.
“It’s Mom and Roy, joy joy joy!”
Momma Swallow turned to Brooke, and her expression softened. “Roy has to learn, I didn’t mean to be rude.”
