Popper and the Greenies

Popper and the Greenies

by Danielle Ancona

Popper swooped down, then forward and up, taking the hummingbird squadron lead. Their mission, reconnaissance for sweet sustenance. They had started in Maine, where they spent a glorious summer, and now were over flower-laden North Carolina. The balmy, dry fall breeze ruffled her tightly woven brown and green feathers. Popper blinked against the irritating dust particles which had made it higher than usual into the atmosphere.

The calorie bulking and endurance training she concentrated on all this summer kept Popper going strong as squadron lead, with all the energy-sapping altitude changes and side swipes—her parched mouth watered at the memory of the delectable nectar she found in Mrs. Douglas’s Bangor butterfly bush.

Captain McHenry’s voice warbled in her ear, “Cranker and Scotch have got the rear. So far, everyone is with us. Dolly and Scratch have the lead for the flock.” McHenry paused then continued, “Popper, we are ready to stop for two days of feeding. You know to keep an eye out for ‘mantises. You’ve got the eye for them, kid.”

“Affirmative, Sir. Mantises, Sir, and stingers, Sir,” Popper answered, her mouth so dry. She looked forward to slaking her thirst and hunger on sweet, cool nectar.

“Roger that, Popper. Mantises and stingers. Look sharp, we’ll wait to hear word of safe feeding territory. McHenry out.”

Popper radioed the rest of her squad, “All right, crew, the flock is ready to make camp in safe feeding grounds. This year we need to be on the lookout for ‘mantises which have been loosed to combat hornets and wasps, 'stingers', as we have all been briefed. Ain’t no way one of us hummers are going to be lunch for some damn greenie. As always, keep an eye out for any ‘stinger’ swarms around the nectar sources. Dragon and Casper, keep your eyes out east.”

“Roger that, east,” clapped back Dragon.

“Affirmative.

“Tiger and Bear, you are west.

“Roger that, west,” agreed Bear, gravel in his voice.

“Affirmative,” answered Popper, as she coughed to bite back a laugh. Bear’s gruff tone, so incongruous with his compact green and blue hummingbird body almost always set off an urge within her to giggle—not very befitting a squad leader. “Let’s go find some sugar, hummers!”

Popper circled above while she watched Dragon and Casper dive off to the east; Bear and Tiger down-turned to the west with obvious skill while she thought about the so-called human experts who wrote that hummingbirds migrated independently. Instead, their tiny, vulnerable species had created and maintained this charade, allowing them greater safety in their migration. This year, the Northeast hummingbirds discovered, after two tragic events had made news through Maine flocks, it had become trendy for humans to import Praying Mantises into their yards as a natural and ‘cute’ way to combat pests. Most people did not seem to understand the ‘cute’ mantises, or ‘greenies’, also enjoyed lunching on hummingbirds!

Dodging ‘stingers’ while attempting to harvest nectar proved frustrating, dangerous, and sometimes deadly. Adding mantises to the mix upped the ante significantly for the fierce, little hummers.

Popper’s radio-waves crackled with Bear’s gruff report, "In our sector we have counted seventeen butterfly bushes in bloom, seven nectar feeders which do not have cloudy nectar in them. Only two of the seventeen bushes appear to have ‘stingers’ swarming them. We have spotted zero greenies. Tiger is taking a second look, Popper.”

“Roger that, Bear.” Popper then called out to the other crew, "Dragon, any word?”

Loud static came over the radio waves, then, “—eenies!” panic threaded Casper’s voice.

“Shit!” cursed Bear, with a curt growl.

“I am getting a location, Tiger, Bear.” Popper tried to sound urgent, yet calm even while her heart pounded out of her chest as she fumbled with the internal beacon locator they all carried. Dragon and Casper’s beacons beeped as she locked on. Relief broke panic's hold. Popper focused, and spoke, “Got ‘em! Let’s go!”

Popper veered off with intrepid expertise, following the beacon with surety, focusing her intent and adrenaline. Bear and Tiger fell in behind. Popper had seen the anger shining through their dark eyes as they had swooped around her to get to her rear. The wind whistled past her ears as she made herself into a missile toward her targets.

As the beacons grew louder, the battle on a tree stump next to a blooming pink butterfly bush came into view and Popper’s heart leaped into her throat. Three mantises warred with the valiantly fighting Casper and Dragon. Nausea and the fragrance of the flowers rose, incongruous, as the look of sheer panic on both of the hummers' faces had now come into clear view. Popper pushed all distractions aside.

“Here is the plan: I am going to hedge clip the mantis holding Dragon; Tiger you do the same to the greenie who has Casper. Roger?

“Bear, I want you to give cover to both Dragon and Casper while Tiger and I try to break them away. I am going to bet the third greenie is going to shit himself and not be able to react quickly enough, especially, if he is playing dodgeball with you, Bear. Roger?”

“Roger, that, Popper. Hedge clippers for Casper,” answered Tiger, determination riding his voice.

“Roger that, cover and dodgeball. Let’s roll,” rumbled Bear.

Bear’s “Let’s roll” somehow gave Popper another shot of courage. The air whined past her in a high pitch as she made herself into a deadly spear while diving toward the greenie clasping the struggling Dragon in its pincers. She spotted blood above Dragon’s right wing and she prayed she was not too late just before her long beak scissored the neck of the surprised mantis. Popper had to keep herself from vomiting as she felt the bug’s head give way and the bitter taste of the mantis filled her mouth.

Relief crossed Dragon’s brown face, and he darted up into the air, listing to the right a bit, but still airworthy.

Popper gave thanks as she spit and shook her head to rid herself of the acrid bug smell and taste. She looked in Casper’s last location. A greenie now lay on there on the tree stump, its head next to green body, with its bug eyes staring ahead. Bear flew over the stump. Popper caught sight of a graze on the left side of his face, but his eye appeared intact.

“Bear, where are Casper and Tiger? Is your eye OK?”

“Roger. My eye is A-OK. Casper and Tiger took a tumble off the stump into the grass with the greenie, when Tiger hit like a freight train from hell. They are both fine, just a bit stunned by the impact and the fall. The greenie never knew what hit him.”

Popper took her speed down a few notches and circled, her heart rate slowing as she surveyed the carnage. Then she spotted Casper and Tiger righting themselves. If she did not know better, she would have thought they drank fermented nectar, the way they both wobbled about in the grass.

“Casper, Tiger, casualty report.”

“Well, Popper, Tiger pulverized the greenie and tried to pulverize my brains," answered Casper, in a clear voice.

“Shut the hell up, Casper, you ungrateful little shit,” Tiger retorted, his voice a combination of grumpy and breathless shaky.

“Are you both able to fly?” asked Popper, ignoring the bickering, she prayed the answer would be “yes” after all they had been through. A gust of wind lifted her another two feet as she hovered over the two hummers. “Here is a solid a breeze. Get on it and get your flight feathers back, boys.”

“Yes, Sir,” said Tiger and Casper in unison.

The sweet, floral scent of the butterfly bush beckoned Popper. She swooped down and hovered, taking a drink, while ignoring the three dead praying mantises scattered about. With a sigh of satisfaction, she backed off, and laughed with joy to see Casper and Tiger lift into the breeze.

Dragon and Bear whooped and flew in a circle around the two recovered hummers. Everyone appeared a bit rag-tag, yet all were airworthy. Popper thanked their sweet flowers.

“Enough goofing off, fellas,” said Popper, a warm laugh threaded her voice over the radio, “McHenry is going to think we have run into trouble or something. Let’s make one more swoop to ensure we are clear, now that we have cleaned out those greenies. We’ll call down the flock to camp here, if it’s good to go.”

A chorus of four strong affirmatives came back over her radio.

“We have a long haul to Alabama in two days before heading to Texas.”