Two Birds

 The mystical cockatiel approached him. Feathers the color of the sun, with red circles around her ears. Her crest feather oscillated as he approached her. Black button eyes with a twinkle. Her short curved beak with her head tilted made her seem coy. He started singing with all his heart. His song brimmed with his youthful vibrancy, and Kite. 

Kite was Cruise’s partner for all his ten years of life. It was around the time they met when Cruise learnt how to sing. He is a self-taught artist, learning everything about music from his instincts, and Kite. Every note of his song was carefully crafted to please her. The song was synonymous with his love for her.

When Kite passed away, the bird room where he lived suddenly became bigger. A big stage with no audience now.

He stopped singing.

He would spend his time in complete silence or make calls for his mate for straight hours.

Around two weeks later, as he was staring into the abyss of the blue flowery wallpaper, he caught a glimpse of a bird from the corner of his eye.

Without any thoughts, he jumped into the air, flew across the room and crashed into the bird as she did the same. 

There she was. A bird of the same feathers. Just as excited to see him as he was for her. 

The mysterious cockatiel approached him.

He started singing.

The same song he composed for Kite. The other bird was pleased and joined in for the singing. 

This bird was just the best. She had the most alluring form and she was always in tune with him. Not like Kite who would just sit in a corner and would bicker whenever he approached her. This bird was always eager to meet him.

A little too eager.

Unlike Kite who would look awkwardly around the bird room when he started to sing, this new bird would elongate her body and be beak to beak with him, making the same pose as him. Kite was a sour sport, but she also made a better audience for his show.

There was something off about this new bird.

It reminded Cruise of a time when he was given a sunflower seed as a treat but the seed was all just husk. He was so disappointed that day, he gave those teary eyed stares without any actual tears.

He shrugged off his doubts and continued singing. The bird room was filled with more music than ever. 

But, the sweetness of the melody dulled with every day.

He began to doubt if this bird was even real. She seemed like an illusion who mimics everything he does.

He began getting frustrated and one day let out a melancholic version of his song.

With his eyes shining, he looked at the bird in the mirror with the last of his hope. To his surprise, she looked at him, not with hope, but with pity in her eyes. 

The song suddenly halted and Cruise let out a most desperate calling sound.

He would call again and again, for that pitiful expression, until he physically couldn’t. He would go to the water bowl, gulp two large rounds of water and start the calling again.

He barely slept that night.

The next day he found himself with a fresh mindset.

It’s been ten years since he had done this, but he was determined.

Songs are art. Great art is magic. He needs to compose a magical song to seduce this new bird out of the wicked imitation game.

Cruise is no birdbrain. Even though he is self taught, he knows that great art can only be achieved by incorporating different emotions into the art. Nothing but songs of the highest artistic caliber can please a female cockatiel.

Kite always bickered when he approached her. It was her default setting. But, on one of those rare occasions, she would let him get close. He would bow his head to her chest and she would play with his crest feathers. Those were his favorite memories of Kite.

Channeling her beak scratching his head, he started singing softly. The bird in the mirror shook her head, appearing appeased. She bowed her head. Cruise reached for her head feathers, but stumbled over an invisible wall.

This seems to be working. He looked at the floor with excitement and then at the mirror to spot the bird mimicking his exact pose again.

Disappointed, he flew back to his cage. He closed his eyes and looked at the ceiling. He was too tired to try anymore for the day.

The following morning, he looked out the window to see two pigeons roaming around, looking for a place to nest. This filled his heart with sorrow and jealousy. He began to sing, but it sounded more like he was screaming. Suddenly, he heard a calling sound from across the room, where the dressing mirror stood.

Channeling the sorrow, he found a rhythm and completed his song. He could feel her looking in his direction. When he flew to the mirror, the only thing he saw was the reflection of his disheartened look. However, the look soon transformed into one of determination.

He had made a breakthrough today. 

He started combining the parts of the song where he got her reaction. Day by day, the bird was coming to life.

Until he reached a ceiling point.  

He got more and more irritated with each passing moment. It’s like when he wanted to fly higher, but the ceiling didn’t allow him. He began doubting his ability to sing. Has he reached the limits of his craft?

He felt caged.

He grinded his beak.

The other bird had a worried look. She took one of her feet and waved at him to stop worrying.

So he added grinding beak noises to his song.

He perfected the rhythm by drumming his beak to the ground. When he had refined the art of grinding beak music, he sang a complete version of the song to the bird in the mirror.

The bird in the mirror started cleaning her feathers. She took each feather in her beak and as her beak slid along its length, the color changed from yellow to a dark gray. After she was finished cleaning herself, the bird was now the color of midnight clouds. She winked at Cruise and took off. She crossed the invisible barrier separating the two and started flying in circles along the walls of the bird room.

Cruise forgot he could fly and tried to chase her on foot. He fell from the dressing table to the floor and looked towards the heavens.

There she was. Flying like Kite.