Solo Migration

I felt a chill in the air. It would be time to go soon, I knew. It’d be too cold to stay outside much longer. Plus, it would be super easy for something to spot me against the white snow. Time to fly down south again. Just after I said goodbye to my mom. She always happily stayed put year-round with Jerry.

I unfurled my wings and flew across the street. No point in getting run over if I didn’t have to. I flew over house after house, looking for Jerry’s familiar rooftop. I flew through an open window.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Darling! How many times have I told you not to come in this window? You know Jerry doesn’t like it when you do that.”

I whistled a sigh. “Fine. I won’t do it again. Wouldn’t want the neighbors to think Jerry’s crazy or anything, I guess.”

“Thank you.”

A moment of awkward silence stood between us. Neither of us chirped a sound for the longest time.

“It’s fall now,” I started.

Mom bobbed her head. “I know.”

“So I’ll be going. I was hoping to start out today. I stayed here longer than most of the others, you know. Most of the birds that haven’t gone yet are gonna be staying all winter.”

“I’ll miss you.” Mom glanced in my direction.

“I have a lot of friends down there. I won’t get lonely.”

Another awkward silence. I wasn’t sure what else to talk about. We used to be so close, but after dad died . . . she was never the same.

“Tell me all about your migration when you get back,” she added.

“Are you sure? I’m using the same flight path . . .” The same path that Dad, Mom, and I flew when he died.

Mom nodded, bobbing her head up and down.

“Jerry will keep you good company while I’m gone,” I said.

“You better get going now, or else your wings will fall off before you get there.”

“Yeah.”

Honestly, I was hoping Mom would offer for me to stay with her over the winter. Ever since Mom stopped migrating, I didn’t really see the point. But most of my friends lived in the south, and it was family tradition to go. I’d need a person to stay with if I were to remain here, anyway.

I flew back outside. I could hear Mom cawing at me about using the window as I glided away.

I oriented myself facing south. I didn’t even look at the sun to figure out which direction I needed to go. I have always been surprised that there are other creatures who can’t do that. It’s always just been so natural to me.

I flew over the city. So many people lived here. I tried to imagine living in a house, trapped there all year, like Mom did. I wouldn’t have to worry about shelter or food—though Mom said the food didn’t taste nearly as good as the stuff we caught ourselves. But no, I’d feel too trapped, I knew. I could never live like Mom did.

The flight was silent. Before, I had a whole flock to keep me company, but since I was leaving so late in the year, and Mom wasn’t coming with me, I was flying solo.

“Just one more time,” I chirped to myself. “One more time traveling with Mom.” The last time we migrated together, it was the year after Dad died. She just couldn’t do it without him, I guess. So the next year, she just . . . stayed with Jerry. Even still, I wished she would come again, even if only so I could have some company. I realized how selfish that sounded and tried to convince myself that I didn’t mean it.

As I came to the edge of the city, the houses became more sparse, and fields filed their place. Cows and horses became more prevalent. At first, there were a few sprinkled about, but soon there were hundreds in a field, covering the plains. The babies were harder to spot, since I flew so high above the ground, but sometimes I could tell that one cow was, in fact, younger than the rest.

Field morphed into forest. My wings trembled. I suppose even I still feared this place. I wanted to swoop down, to inspect the place where he had fallen. I flapped my wings again, to make sure I wouldn’t. I don’t think I could bear to see the place again, though other wild animals had long since carried away the bones. I stared down at the forest. I couldn’t think of anything besides that day.

Dad’s wings flapping. A sound, like thunder, but louder. It was one of the few years we decided to leave for south before the others, so it was just the three of us. Something from the ground hit Dad. Mom and I tried to catch him. Another sound of thunder. Mom and I scattered. When I glanced over at her, her feathers were stained red.

I replayed the scene, over and over again. I was glad that Mom hadn’t come with me. She had taken his death a lot harder than I had.

Day turned into night, but I wouldn’t let myself rest in the forest. I had to keep going. My wings ached after flying so long. I could see a farmhouse near the horizon. If only I could make it that far.

I wasn’t sure how far I flew before I got to the house, but it felt like it took a lifetime to get there. I noticed a barn and, deciding it would probably be safer than the rooftops, chose to sleep there. I flew into the loft through an open window, suddenly wondering if Mom would have scolded me for this, too. I pulled the hay together into a makeshift nest. Sleep came quickly, and it felt good to relax my muscles after such a long flight.

When I woke up, the sun had not yet risen. I heard low voices in the main part of the barn. I hopped toward the edge of the loft to watch.

Two humans dressed in dark clothing snuck around the barn. One neared a horse stall.

“Should we snatch a horse or two, also?” one of them asked the other.

“We don’t need any horses, Travis,” the other argued.

“But I want a horse,” he—Travis—whined.

“No, we’re just here to lay low for a while. No point in getting the police here on our tails, too.”

“But Jimmy—”

A door creaked open. The second person clapped his hand over the first’s mouth, to keep him from continuing to talk.

“Who’s in here?” It was a man’s voice. “Show yourself before I call the cops.”

“What cops?” Travis sneered.

“Daddy?” A little girl. She stood behind her father.

“Hildy, go back inside,” he told her.

“Who are these men?”

“Go inside, honey. Now.”

“Daddy?”

“Tell Mama to call an ambulance.”

I stared in horror as Travis pulled out a gun. A familiar thundering sound echoed around the room. The horses woke up, going crazy. They looked like they wanted to run away. I understood the feeling. I watched as the little girl’s father clutched his belly, collapsing onto he ground.

“She ain’t gonna do nothing,” Travis spat.

The little girl dropped down next to her father. “Daddy?” she asked, touching her hand to his arm. “Daddy!”

I let out a scream as I leapt out of the loft. I flew into the men’s faces, scratching at them. I couldn’t let them get away with what they had done. I couldn’t save my father, but maybe I could help an innocent girl save hers.

“Let’s get outta here,” Travis said, turning towards the door. I started to fly after them. He whipped back around to face me for just a second longer. Another bolt of thunder. The men fled.

Dad, falling. Mom’s bloody feathers. The scene played over and over in my mind. I couldn’t stop it.

I heard the door opening. I flapped my wings. It wasn’t as easy as usual, and my right wing stung, but a didn’t think anything of it as I managed to get to the loft again. I didn’t want anyone else to see me here, but I still stood on the edge so I could see what was going on. I was fully prepared to attack again if these new people were going to try and hurt the little girl or her father any more.

A boy and a woman ran into the barn. The woman gasped at the sight.

“Daddy’s hurt!” the little girl said loudly. She lowered her voice. “But a angel came and scared the men off.”

The woman dropped to the floor and pressed her ear against the father’s chest. “George, run inside and call 911,” she said, trying to stop the blood from flowing from the man’s belly. The boy ran off.

As I watched, I felt something wet and sticky drip down my side. Looking over revealed the substance to be blood.

Blood. I had seen blood before. When I got scraped, when a person fell too hard at the skate park. My mind flashed back to that day. Dad plummeting to the ground. Mom’s feathers bloodstained. Again, the scene tormented me.

I tried to focus.

Where is the blood coming from? I asked myself. It didn’t seem to be coming from my side—my side was perfectly fine.

Dad’s body, descending into the trees. His cries of anguish, of the pain.

I saw the place the blood was coming from. My wing. Near my body, but still on my wing. The nearby feathers were mangled and stained with blood. Just like Mom’s were. Except this looked worse.

The look on Mom’s face clawed its way into my memory. The horror of Dad falling to the ground, of her being shot, as well, and being forced to leave him.

The realization finally sunk in. My wing was injured—I was injured. The blood I saw was my blood, and it was coming from my wing. Nausea overcame me. I lost my grip on the loft and fell over the edge. I was frozen, but falling. I couldn’t move my wings in time to stay in the air.

The last thing I heard before I fully fell unconscious was a shrill but strangely soft voice say, “Look, Mama! It’s the angel!”

When I opened my eyes, I saw a couple faces staring down at me. The woman and the little girl. Were they going to punish me for coming onto their property? I wasn’t sure. Pain filled my shoulder, and my whole body ached.

“Is he alright?” I groaned. “The girl’s father, is he okay?”

The woman gaped at me. I realized I hadn’t tucked my wings in and kept myself from cursing under my breath. I didn’t want the girl to hear it.

“Y-yes. Yes,” the woman stammered. I watched her try to avert her eyes from my wings. “He’s in the hospital now. My son and our neighbor took him. Hildy says you saved him.”

I sat up. I winced at the pain in my wing when I tried to move it into a more comfortable position. “Believe me, I didn’t do anything,” I shook my head.

I wanted to mention that I had been there the whole time, and that I could’ve prevented him from getting shot at all. I couldn’t say that, though. I didn’t want to let down a total stranger, and I definitely didn’t want to make someone mad when I was this hurt.

I noticed the little girl—Hildy, was it?—still staring at me.

“You’re a very bootiful angel,” she said.

“I’m not—I’m not really . . .” I sighed, deciding to just take the compliment, instead of arguing with the girl. “Thanks.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, what are you doing here?” the woman asked.

“Just staying the night.” I turned my gaze to the floor. “South is a long way from here, and I needed a break from flying. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked, but it was late at night, and—”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s fine?” I asked.

The woman nodded. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. It’s a good thing you were here, too.”

As I stood, I tried to move my wing again. I tried not to groan as it sent a sharp pain through my whole body.

“I suppose I’d best be on my way now,” I said, heading toward the door. “It’s not very nice trying to fly through a blizzard, you know.”

“Wait.” The woman stepped in front of me. I could see fear in her eyes. I was a strange creature to her—a person with wings, who had heard of that before? Plus, I towered over her by a good six inches, so she had to look up to look me in the eyes.

“What is it?” I asked, cocking my head.

“You can’t fly on those wings,” she said. “You’re in pain. I used to be a nurse. I don’t—I don’t know if I can help, but . . . stay with us. Just until your wings are healed.”

“I don’t know . . .”

“Pwease?” Hildy asked. She stared up into my eyes. I gave in.

“Alright, I can stay. But don’t treat me like a guest. I can earn my stay. It’s just my wing that’s hurt. Chores, whatever you need.”

“Deal.” She extended her hand for me to shake, and I confirmed our agreement.

I grinned and bowed grandly. “Alex Bird, at your service.”