Randy's Bird

Someone who is given a bird for the holidays but doesn’t know how to take care of it.

The glow of the fireplace warmed my face. Swaddled in blankets, the glistening lights of the tree behind me, I closed my eyes and let the moment sink into my mind. Every little problem melted away like the chocolate chips in my cocoa. A dusty photograph with an old wooden frame stared down at me from the wall. Smiling faces and rosy cheeks wrapped up tightly with red and green scarves. But reality gripped me with cold hands, and I set down the mug. When I looked out the window, there was no snow on the ground. Nowhere to go sledding or skiing. No special occasion to wrestle on the snow pants, the coats, the gloves, and the hats.

The harsh white glow of my phone disrupted the warm red lights from the auto-fire. A missed notification icon sat squarely in the center of the screen, mocking me, screaming READ ME! 

I clicked on it. It was from my mother.

“Hey, Adriana, just wanted to check in with you.” 

She was somewhere crowded. A shopping center, or a mall. 

“I know things have been rough for you. You should consider coming up to visit us. We’re all here for you when you need us, ok?” 

I clicked the phone off. The dancing lights of the fake fireplace skipped about merrily. The lights know no pain, they only spend their life dancing, I thought. They continue until I wish for them to stop. With a click of a button, they are silenced. 

I remembered the last time I had seen it snow; frosty flakes of pure bliss drifting down from the sky. I was 14, bundled tightly in mountains of clothing that only came out of the closet once a year. It was cold. Icicles hung from the roofs of all the houses. Snowmen lined the yards across town. Carrot noses and coal eyes. My sister wanted to build a snowman, but I had told her no. I said it would snow later, and I would go out then. But by the next day, the snow was hard and icy and wouldn’t hold its shape. Christina’s snowman fell apart before she could build it. It didn’t snow again that winter, and I hadn’t seen it snow since.

A pounding reeled in my wandering mind. For a moment, I didn’t realize it was my door being knocked on. But the knocking came again. Brap brap brrap. I got to my feet, walking towards the door. It swung open with a sharp screech, and I realized I was still wearing my pajamas and slippers. The man at the door held a large box. It had holes in the sides and made a clanky, rattling noise when he shifted it in his hands. He passed it to me and presented a tablet for me to sign.

The box was heavier than I expected, and it made a loud and intense rattling when I took it. I was still in such a daze, I couldn’t think about what it could be. I just signed the tablet and closed the door.

I knew I hadn’t ordered anything recently, so it must be a gift. Is it from my parents? From an aunt or uncle? I knelt to the floor, feeling the seams of the box until I had found a tab to pull out. Carefully, I peeled back the tape and lifted the lid.

A tall, dome-like cage sat neatly in the box. The golden wires snaked up the side, forming neatly at the top in a hook to be hung up on a post. The cage was furnished with a swing, a long rope, and a bottle attached to the side. But most importantly, within the cage was a bird. Its head was grey, which faded into a vibrant blue and green. Its chest, a dull white, was puffed out proudly as the tiny bird strut about in its cage.

For a moment, I was stunned. Shocked into complete silence. Slowly, I lifted the cage out of the box. I placed it on the floor. The bird looked up at me, cocking its head to the left. 

“SKREEK!” 

I jumped back, startled by the noise. The bird was so small. “SKREEK!” I grabbed the box, looking for a label or a tag. All I found was a sheet of paper tucked neatly at the bottom.

Adriana, it read. I know Christmas has never been your favorite. But this year we can spend it together. ♥️ Randy

Tears welled in my eyes as it dawned on me that Randy and I were supposed to be opening this together. He was supposed to be with me today. He wasn’t supposed to be driving so late at night.

The Pets n’ Parties was the only pet store open on Christmas Eve. It was almost empty inside. There was a woman by the cash registers, looking very bored. I brought the bird to her.

“Do you accept refunds?” I asked. She looked at me like I was an idiot.

“We do,” she said, chewing on pink gum.

“Great,” I said, fumbling with the bird’s cage. “I can’t keep this.” The girl looked at the cage.

“That wasn’t purchased at our store. And it looks like you don't have a receipt, either.” She was ready to turn me away, but she saw the desperate look in my eye. “A gift from someone?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t know how to care for it.”

She left the counter and began walking through the store. I followed her down the long aisles. She stopped in front of Aisle 12 - Bird Seed. She ran her hands across the different bags of pellets and seeds until she landed on a small burlap pouch labeled Conure Pellets.

“Half a cup every day.” She said. “Refill the bottle when it’s empty. You can take it to some other stores once Christmas has passed. If they don’t accept it, you can donate it to a bird sanctuary, okay?” 

I nodded. She smiled and handed me the bag. It was heavy. 

“Have a merry Christmas.”

“You too,” I said, and I left the store. Only when I was driving home did I realize she hadn’t charged me.

The bird cocked its head at me, wondering what I was up to. I reached my hand inside the cage, extending my finger to pat its head. It hopped forward, nipping my finger. Startled, I drew back my hand. The bird let out a loud screech. I dumped the pellets in the feeder and stepped back from the cage. It squawked and screeched. It was noisy.

I opened my laptop and googled the word “Conure.” Sure enough, images of the bird flooded the screen. I looked at the bird. It was scratching its head. It smelled bad, and it pooped a lot. I googled nearby bird sanctuaries. 

Happy Bird Homing was the first suggestion. I looked at the page and began to dial the number. But I paused before calling. I looked at the note on the desk. It was mocking me. I know Christmas has never been your favorite. But this year we can spend it together. ♥️ Randy

But we can’t spend it together, I thought. We can’t care for this bird together, we can’t sit by the fire together, we can’t laugh together, we can’t be together! Tears overflowed from my eyes, hot droplets hitting the keyboard. The bird made a shrill noise. I clicked off my phone and looked at it. It looked at me.

“SKREEK!”

I thought about Randy. I thought about the truck that took him away from me.

“I guess I could wait a little while before handing you over.”