by madi of suburbia Thu Jul 15, 2010 6:28 pm
Chapter One:
“Now, listen up,” She said to me, “And just listen. Listen to the breeze outside, and listen to the trees whispering their secret language to you.” Her black curls fell effortlessly on her shoulders, “And the chiming bells of the birds’ melody. How high up there do you think he is? I think, he is so high the moon is in his wing. Like God’s hands are wrapped around the Earth, protecting them. Maybe God is singing to the birds, and the birds sing God’s song. No wonder they are so pretty. They are the prettiest things I’ve ever heard. Even more pretty than your singing. I’m sorry but it’s true.
“Do you think that the bird’s songs are pretty? I’m sure you do. You love songs, and singing. Every song is pretty to you. And don’t say it isn’t. I can see how dreamy your eyes get when you hear any songs. And then your body begins to sway to the beat, so sometimes it looks like you are a bobble head. I wish I could sing like a bird. I want to be a bird when I grow up. There isn’t anything I’d rather be. Not a plane, or a monkey or a dolphin. No sir, I’d much rather be a bird.”
“Why do you want to be a bird?” I looked up to the robin that played a joyful tune above our heads.
“Because, they may go where ever they please. They wings just open, and the air lifts them off the ground. I’d be a pink bird, because pink is very pretty. But not a flaminge, because I can’t balance on my right leg.” She lifted her left, and promptly fell onto the grass underneath us.
“It’s a flamingo, not a flaminge.” She grabbed onto my hand, and pulled herself up.
“Well, who ever told you that isn’t very bright. It’s a flaminge, and it says so in the Bible. I know, because I read the whole Bible, from cover to cover, in one hour. One hour, not a minute over an hour. Because I counted. Oh! Shush up! Listen for an airplane. Whoever wins has to buy the other one an ice cream sundae from the drug store! Starting now!”
Silence filled the air. You could have heard a pin drop onto the soft grass that was below our bare feet. Her gray eyes looked intently into the bright blue sky, the color of her dress. I cocked my ear, playing along with the game that she created last year. Even though I’d never say this to anyone, it was my favorite game with her. The winner always shared their ice cream sundae from the drug store. My ears heard the sound of an airplane, but she was much too fast.
“AIRPLANE!” Her voice shrilled, practically overflowing with excitement. A smile bloomed on her tiny face, her precious little face that I wish I could bottle up and save in my pocket forever. With a heavy sigh, I pulled out five dollars and handed the crisp one dollar bills out of my pocked to her.
“Go have a vanilla sundae with extra hot fudge. I’ll tell Mom, and then walk you down to the store.” I kissed her forehead, and went inside to tell Mom. Mom shrugged, and telling me it was okay. Then she handed me my shoes, as well as hers. I slipped mine on, no longer feeling the cool hardwood under my feet.
“Sweetie, here’s your shoes. Put them on!” I tossed her each shoe, separately. With not so great skill, she caught neither black flat. Her toes entered the shoe, then each foot was covered with the standard black shoes that I wore when I was her age. Hand in hand, we walked to the drug store, and shared our little bite of happiness, vanilla flavored with chocolate dripping from the spoon.
“Thank you.” She rose on her toes, and kissed me on the cheek.
Home
![Becoming [one] 37972210](https://i.servimg.com/u/f38/13/68/48/81/37972210.jpg)
