Tyger Lilly

by Lisa Trusiani

  Lilly on the other hand found The Tyger by William Blake, remembering Tobias had said her father recited the poem to her before she went to sleep every night. Lilly stared at the words and thought about her father. She closed her eyes and conjured up his face, the one in the photograph. My father died when I was four, thought Lilly. To a child who is four, four years is forever. When I was four, I’d had my father forever. There must be a part of me that remembers forever.

  She imagined her father reciting the poem, and her mind wandered listening for his voice. As The Tyger ran through Lilly’s mind, the voice was not her father’s but her own.

  “In what distant deeps or skies

  Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

  On what wings dare he aspire?

  What the hand dare seize the fire?”

  Lilly’s mind was so far away, she wasn’t aware of Mr. Stinchfield entering the library. Without warning, two massive hands seized Lilly’s own and slammed the book shut. With an explosive bang, The Tyger disappeared. Lilly jumped back. Mr. Stinchfield pushed his face in front of Lilly’s and growled,

  “And what shoulder, and what art,

  Could twist the sinews of thy heart

  And when thy heart began to beat

  What dread hand? And what dread feet?

  Mr. Stinchfield straightened up and stood looming over her. Lilly tried to shrink into the small chair that Miss Brightman set out for kindergarteners. Mr. Stinchfield pounded the book against the wall behind him. “What the hammer?” he shouted. “What the chain?”

  “In what furnace was thy brain?

  What the anvil? What dread grasp

  Dare its deadly terrors clasp?”

  As Mr. Stinchfield moved toward her again, Lilly leaned away. Her fingers clung to the table. Mr. Stinchfield crept closer. Lilly tipped farther back in the too-small chair and toppled onto the floor. Mr. Stinchfield pranced around her in a circle singing,

  “When the stars threw down their spears,

  And water’d Heaven with their tears,

  Did he smile his work to see?

  Did he who made the Lamb make thee?”

  Lilly closed her eyes. She breathed in slowly. She wanted to slip outside of herself with her breath. She willed herself to slip away – and float to a place where Mr. Stinchfield couldn’t hurt her; to float like the cat in her dream.

  Miss Brightman, at first as startled as Lilly, went calmly to her. Lilly felt Miss Brightman’s arm around her pulling her up to her feet. She felt Miss Brightman’s warm breath near her ear whispering, “Don’t float away, Lilly. Tigers can swim.”

  Mr. Stinchfield’s growling voice rose to a howl.

  “Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright.

  In the forests of the night,

  What immortal hand or eye,

  Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?”

  “What an overrated poem!” sneered Mr. Stinchfield. “Time was certainly kind to that bearded worm.”

  That afternoon, Lilly left school heaving a great sigh. Another year was over. She was thankful to be out of reach of Mr. Stinchfield for at least the summer.

  “Lilly, good news!” Lilly turned to see Isadora right behind her grinning broadly. “Guess who’s running the pet store this summer?”

  “Your father,” said Lilly wondering why Isadora wasn’t with her tag-along buddies.

  “Wrong!” yelled Isadora skipping backwards in front of Lilly. “My father has to travel for business.”

  Maybe they’re leaving me in charge, thought Lilly. I think I would like that.

  “My uncle,” said Isadora, grinning like a hyena. “Won’t that be fun? You and Mr. Stinchfield working in the store together.”

  Lilly stared at Isadora who ran to her friends. They looked at Lilly and laughed as she walked away from school toward home far too upset now to take Goodie’s advice and look on the bright side.

  Chapter 27

  “There is much you need to know child,” said Tobias. Lilly listened although Tobias spoke to the egg.

  “RARE! We parrots are RARE birds.” Tobias paced side-to-side in front of the egg. “Although our feathers come in a phenomenal array of colors, what is truly astonishing is our ability to bend light. You are an amazing being my boy.”

  “Next your flying lesson. Teaching an egg to fly is unorthodox, yes. But I want you to be prepared. And it’s better than the ‘Fly or Die Method.’”

  “Fly or die?” asked Lilly.

  “LOOK OUT BELOW!” screeched Tobias. “Some birds push their chicks out of the nest to force them to fly.”

  Lilly looked at the egg resting in the nest box. Like Tobias, Lilly wanted to protect the egg, too. Tobias looked around impatiently and yelled, “LADY!” Then said, “Where is everyone? Lady said she’d return to sit on the nest. DUCK! What could be keeping her?”

  “I knew this time would come,” said Tobias. Using his beak as a third leg, Tobias climbed to the top of the cardboard nesting box. With great dignity, Tobias lifted his tail feathers and sat nobly upon the egg.

  I wonder if the chick knows someone new is sitting on him? thought Lilly. They’d almost all sat on him except the fish. The fish were willing but unable. The rooster was able but unwilling. Razz Ma Tazz said boy birds didn’t do that sort of thing. Tobias argued there were many cases of boy birds that regularly and proudly sat on the nest. Some fed their chicks, too.

  Lilly looked at Tobias sitting on the egg. He held his back very straight and his head very high. “GET READY FOR THE NEXT GENERATION!” blasted Tobias. “Lilly, this egg may mean I am not the last of my kind.”

  “How could that be?” asked Lilly.

  “IRREGULAR! This egg is most unusual. It does not have the shape and density, nor does it have the pearly white color of most parrot eggs. SEVENTY-FIVE YEARS! It’s been seventy-five years since I last saw a Roufus-tailed Tuft egg. I don’t remember it exactly. But I do remember that it was irregular. IRREGULAR!” Tobias hesitated. Lilly knew he wanted to say more.

  “Is that the only reason you think it could be a Roufus-tailed Tuft, Tobias?”

  “Astute! There is another reason, Lilly,” said Tobias. Before he could explain, Tobias leaned too far to one side and accidentally slid off the egg. “BUMPY RIDE!” he exclaimed climbing back up. “I had no idea what a balancing act this is.”

  “What’s the other reason?” prompted Lilly.

  “SCARLET!” screeched Tobias. “COUSIN SCARLET disappeared decades ago. We assumed the worst – SHE’S BEEN STOLEN! PLUCKED AND TURNED INTO AN ORNAMENT! STUFFED AND TURNED INTO A SCIENTIFIC SPECIMEN! IMPRISONED AND TURNED INTO A PET!

  “And now?” asked Lilly.

  Tobias gazed toward the sky, “Now I think perhaps Scarlet flew away with a mate to start a family. Her father rejected all the boy birds that came to court her. He was a grouchy old bird.”

  Lilly smiled. “Are you saying a girl cousin may have lived, and you may be sitting on one of her great, great grandchildren?”

  “RIIIIGHT!!! Exactly and directly right, Lilly. If I survived, it’s possible another member of my species survived!”

  So that’s why he’s so protective of the egg, thought Lilly. And why he spends hour after hour teaching the chick inside the egg to be the finest bird she can be, but not just any bird or parrot, a Roufus-tailed Tuft.

  Tobias looked down and addressed the egg, “Ready for your first flying lesson, my boy?”

  “What if our chick is a girl?” teased Lilly.

  “NO FLIES ON THIS EGG! Boy or girl, this chick must fly!” said Tobias. “But my intuition – never wrong! Never wrong! – tells me there is a boy inside this egg.”

  As Lilly slipped out the window, she heard Tobias begin a flying lesson. “It’s no surprise most birds have a light weight skeleton – the heavier an animal is, the harder it is to fly,” explained Tobias.

  Lilly heard him shout, “LOSE THE WEIGHT! THIRTY DAYS, THIRTY POUNDS!” Tobias started sprinkling commercials into his conversations after Lill
y left the radio playing when she went to school.

  Lilly glanced at the backyard. How did the garden grow taller and greener when it hadn’t rained for weeks? She hurried away to meet Dorian. They planned to meet in the center of town, go to the train station, and eat a breakfast packed by Dorian’s mother while watching for criminals. Lilly was feeling less hopeful, figuring their chances of catching a criminal were as slim as Tobias’s chances of hatching a Roufus-tailed Tuft.

  Lilly saw Dorian waiting for her with two brown paper bags. She hurried to cross the street but a speeding delivery truck cut in front of her. The driver stopped at the pet store and tossed out a package.

  Dorian ran to the truck. “Do you have anything for the Garden Center, Gus?”

  The driver checked his clipboard, “Nope, not today, Dorian.” With the dexterity of an Indy speedster, Gus shifted and continued his race to finish work.

  When Lilly reached him, Dorian didn’t say ‘hello,’ but was busy sniffing the air, “What’s that awful smell?” he asked.

  “Hopefully not our breakfast,” teased Lilly. Dorian’s mother cooked meals that were unusually creative. Every Sunday, after tending the garden, Mrs. Mynah made dinner for Lilly, her mother and Dorian. Even though she used vegetables from the garden, Mrs. Mynah hadn’t repeated a recipe yet. Lilly had no idea beets could be turned into salads, stews, side dishes and desserts that all tasted good. She couldn’t wait to see their breakfast.

  Dorian didn’t laugh. He looked through the dark window of the pet store, closed until Monday. He sniffed. He walked up and down the sidewalk in front of the store inhaling long draughts of air. Then he handed the breakfast bags to Lilly and picked up the package Gus had delivered. “You don’t smell this?” he asked.

  Dorian jiggled the package gently. There was no return address but written in bold, black letters were the words, ‘FRAGILE… DON’T DROP, THROW OR MANGLE…’ Regardless, the package was badly damaged.

  “I don’t smell anything,” said Lilly sniffing at a torn corner. As Dorian tilted the package, dark soil cascaded from the tear causing Lilly to panic.

  “Put it down, Dorian!” shrieked Lilly. “It belongs to the pet store. If this package gets ruined, I could get in trouble. I decided to quit working there but I still don’t want to get in trouble with Mr. Stinchfield.”

  “Forget about him, Lilly. You’ll be in trouble no matter what you do. Look, this smell means something bad has happened, and I need to find out what it is.” Dorian tipped the package again while Lilly bit at her finger nervously, worrying what might happen if Mr. Stinchfield found out. Lilly watched more dirt escape and with it, a very small, very blue tail.

  “Careful!” yelled Lilly jumping forward and cupping her hands under the tail. Dorian pushed open the edge of the package where the blue tail hung delicately. “Don’t let him fall out!” whispered Lilly frantically.

  “We can’t do this here,” said Dorian. He ran to the alley behind the pet store. Lilly followed, dropping their breakfast onto the lid of a nearby garbage can.

  “Let me help, Dorian.”

  “No, thanks, I think I’ve got it,” said Dorian squeezing the hole to make it bigger with fingers that looked gigantic next to the dainty blue tail. Without warning, Dorian pulled the package completely open, revealing its contents. Three miniature iguanas lay half-buried in a pile of dirt in a plastic container. Each iguana was greenish blue from the crown of its dragonhead to the tip of its tail. Their eyes were closed. Their bodies were still. Lilly breathed in sharply. Now she could smell a strangely sour odor.

  Lilly lifted the iguana whose tail had slipped out and held him tenderly in the palm of her hand. For a moment, the creature lay motionless. Then the iguana flicked a leg, trembled and grew still.

  “It’s alive!” said Lilly, smiling at Dorian.

  Dorian touched the other two iguanas gently. Neither moved.

  Lilly held the baby iguana. “Why would anyone put animals in the mail? I don’t understand. Do you think Tobias could help them?”

  Dorian nodded. “Maybe,” he said. “Tobias saved the egg, right?” Forgetting all plans for the morning, Lilly and Dorian rushed away leaving their bagged breakfast to the alley mice. With a baby iguana cradled in her hand, Lilly ran beside Dorian with only one thought between the two of them – save the iguanas.

  Chapter 28

  Lilly watched Tobias examine the two, blue iguanas still lying in the plastic container. “They’re babies,” he announced sadly. He closed his eyes and used his beak to nudge each one gently. He inhaled deeply. ““These two have been dead for days,” whispered Tobias. Beneath the odor of death Tobias recognized a sweeter scent. “Parrot Paradise,” he murmured in his raspy voice, “fruit trees and sweet orchids.”

  Janie, Zelda and Gwendolyn stood watching. Janie and Zelda cried because Janie had a mother’s heart, and Zelda’s heart was ‘tender as new lettuce.’ Being an iguana, Gwendolyn was naturally upset, too.

  Lilly stroked the baby iguana whose blue skin was wrinkly and soft. “What about this one, Tobias? I saw him move at the pet store,” said Lilly hopefully. They all waited to hear whether Tobias believed the iguana could be saved.

  Tobias placed his head against the iguana’s back. He closed his eyes and inhaled. “It is too late, timmaa, timmaa.” Lilly stared at the iguana’s blueness, then gazed out the window, sadness washing over her.

  Her eyes moved from topiary to topiary, from the towering green grizzly to the pompom poodle to the tree-sized mouse. The mouse is as large as the bear, thought Lilly and for the first time Lilly saw them as a stranger would see them.

  “Maybe my mother will let us bury the iguanas in her garden,” Lilly said. One by one, Lilly handed Zelda, Gwendolyn, Janie and her children out the window to Dorian, who went to find a shovel. Lilly placed the iguanas in a special box and climbed out the window, too.

  Together they walked toward the garden where Lilly’s mother was on her knees surrounded by tomato plants. Her ever-faithful cloud, now the soft gray of a pussy willow, floated at Lilly’s eye level.

  Lilly walked along the path of stepping-stones Mrs. Mynah had placed in the garden. Here and there, Lilly saw small mounds of weeds. On the leaves of the tomato plants, Lilly saw drops of water. The drops were mysterious. They glistened like morning dew but appeared at all times of the day and only when her mother had been near. This time Lilly noticed drops on her mother’s face, too. Tears? thought Lilly. She’d never seen her mother cry.

  Lilly stood staring down at her mother who looked up. “Yes, Lilly… ?”

  In the past, Lilly might have dug a hole in the backyard without her mother’s permission. But now her mother was different, spending more time tending her garden and herself. Lilly felt the need to talk to her mother.

  “Mother,” said Lilly, “may we dig a hole in your garden? We found three iguanas that died. May we bury them here? You garden is so pretty, and the iguanas so beautiful. They were only babies.”

  Mrs. Wilder stood and brushed dirt from her knees. She looked at the old, ballerina jewelry box in Lilly’s hands. “I don’t want to hurt you, Lilly, but I want life in my garden, only growing things.”

  Mrs. Wilder looked around the backyard. The giant topiary animals threw the garden into shade here and there. “Bury your iguanas next to McMuggster, why don’t you?” She nodded in the direction of the long, green crocodile.

  Before she left with her tomatoes, Mrs. Wilder touched Lilly on the shoulder and said, “I can’t stay. I’m trying so hard to not be sad…”

  Dorian dug a hole next to McMuggster into which Lilly lowered her jewelry box. Inside the iguanas rested on pink satin next to Lilly’s ballerina. As Gwendolyn swept her tail across the ground pushing the small hill of dirt on top, Tobias planted a beakful of sunflower seeds. Janie and Zelda patted the soil. Dorian sprinkled water for the seeds.

  They stood silent except for Tobias. He spoke in a raspy chant, “Laughing Owl… Dire Wolf… Barbary Lion… Reu
nion Solitaire… Piopio… Oribi… Crested Moa… Java Tiger… Bali Tiger…”

  Chapter 29

  After they buried the iguanas, Lilly and Dorian climbed through the open window into Lilly’s room. Lilly looked at the photograph saved from her jewelry box. “This is my father,” she said.

  Dorian took the picture, studied it for a long time and smiled. “You look like him, Lilly.” He handed it back. “You’re lucky.”