Lucky Part Two

  The following is part of a true story.

            At first, I wasn’t sure what to do, then I said, “I’ll go get Jean.”

            Jean was our neighbor across the street. She has had countless pets over the years, and I figured she’d be able to help, maybe even have a birdcage.

            I ran across the street in the cold night. Fortunately there was no traffic.

            I rang the doorbell. Her husband John answered the door. I launched into the fastest description of the situation as I could, probably messing up words. Essentially, I said, “There’s this bird! It flew into the house! Mom’s got it! Is Jean here?”

            John looked at me a little confused, then called out, “She’s in the potty. Hold on a second.” He walked over towards the bathroom and called out to her, exclaiming the situation as he understood it. Soon enough, Jean came out. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

            I was out of breath at this point, and essentially said, “Bird! Flew in house! Mom’s got!”

            Then the doorbell rang. Mom was at the door with the bird. Jean let my mom and the bird in. “It’s just sitting in your hands,” Jean observed. It was true. The little bird was just contently relaxing in Mom’s hands, just looking around curiously.

            “Aww,” Jean said, then turned to me and said, “I’ve got a birdcage in the attic. Can you help me get it?” she asked.

            I followed her into the house. She led me into the house. I helped her pull down the stairs into the attic and she walked up. She rummaged around a bit then produced the birdcage. “Here, take this,” she called.

            I reached up and took the cage from Jean’s hands, then got out of her way.

            As she walked down, she said to me, “Nice jammies!”

            I looked down. I had been relaxing and reading my digital comics so well and had been in my Avengers Assemble t-shirt and pajama pants. I had put on my heavy coat and boots, at least, but no socks. I had just had no time to dress due to the seriousness of the situation.

            Mom had been wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt, but she could only barely slide on boots and had no coat, what with holding a bird in her hands and all.

            Once Jean had gotten down, she pointed me back into her living room, where I placed the birdcage down. Mom and Jean put the bird into the cage.

            Their dog Sandy was rather excited. This craziness was going on around her and it seemed to interest her.

            Mom and Jean had gone on to talk, leaving John, Sandy, and myself with the bird.

            “I think she wants to adopt the bird,” I observed.

            “I don’t think so,” John replied, “I think she wants to eat her.”

            Sandy had been very interested the whole time. She had been circling around, staring at the bird. She did seem that she want the bird as dessert, jumping around, slobbering, and trying to run towards the bird.

            “Mm,” I said in agreement.