It Was Nice

This time was no different. Daddy always brought me home a present from his trip to
America. This time it was a bird. I named him Redhead. He looked around and sang a little bird tune.

It was nice.

But I preferred hearing my favorite song, Buffalo Moon, and played it every
night before drifting off to sleep. I fed Redhead seeds and berries.
I even taught him how to eat right out of my hand.

Daddy said that was neat.

______

Mona yelled upstairs for me to go to bed. I put my book in the nightstand
drawer and turned out the light. I laid motionless in my bed, engulfed in darkness. That is when
I found out Redhead could sing my favorite tune.

It was really cool.

______

It was neat, it was nice and it was cool!

I'm talking about walking up the stairs to my room, finding it had been tidied and realizing now I didn't
have to do it. The rugs had been beaten, the floor had been swept and my books and records had been
stacked neatly on the table. Mona had even left the window open to bring in some fresh air from the bay.
I inhaled, sighed, jumped spread eagle on my bed and closed my eyes.

But it was still noisy.

I looked over at Redhead. His methodical singing seemed to beckon me. He must be hungry. I gathered his
food and laid it on the bed while I opened the cage door. Redhead rushed through the open cage door past
my frantic grasps and perched briefly on the window stool of the open window. He looked back and then
flew out the window.

It was goodbye.

______

Daddy is on a trip again to America. I wonder what he will bring me.

Some nights right before I drift off to sleep, I can hear a song playing outside in the distance among the trees.
I always hum along because I know that song.

It is Buffalo Moon.

© 2011 by Mari