Another dream
The birdman had finally come. Someone had caught him and had let us know. We saw him waiting in the customary kitchen terrace. At once, I saw the white duck he had with him. It was disappointing. I had hoped that it would be the peacock he carried around on other days.
The birdman spoke. “Who would go?”
My brother pushed me aside and exclaimed, “I’m first! I’m first!” When I subjected him to an acrimonious stare, he said, “Because I’m smaller!” As he spoke, he gradually shrunk into the puny frame of his kindergarten years. Giving me a triumphant smirk, he mounted the bird. The birdman followed.
It was especially windy. The birdman only came on windy days. He kicked the ground and the bird started rising in the air, wings flapping. It wasn’t such a small bird as I’d thought. They advanced vertically for some time, and then relied on the wind to carry them backward and forward. Soon, the gusts blew them about, and they became a black speck in the sky like an errant kite. I still squinted and tried to locate them. My brother must have clouds in his eyes, I thought. They would stick to his ears and his temple. My feet ached. I sat on the steps, waiting.
Then I heard flapping above and looked up. They had returned. I jumped up.
“It took such a while because I wanted to go near the stars today. No matter how far up we went, it looked like they were in the same place; within reach.” My brother gushed. The birdman smiled benignly.
“Well, it’s my turn, in any case,” I said and straddled the bird. As we started rising, the lights went out: we were only a dark shadow. I still wanted to continue, but then the rain came on hard, and I ached all over. “You have to get down now, it is not possible.” With a sinking heart, I agreed with the birdman.
I retreated inside and sat on the bed with my brother and mother keeping company. The birdman stood in the terrace; a dark shadow.
Almost in a minute, the lights came back, and the rain stopped. I rushed to the terrace. “Could we go now?” The birdman nodded, but there was no wind. Still, I got on the bird and we rose in the still air, excitement mounting. It was such a long time since I had done this. I saw the clouds, but they breezed past, and I saw the stars, but didn’t want to go near them. In time, we returned, and my mother counted out the coins, and we could look forward to the last bit. Receiving the money, the birdman plucked two identical white feathers from the bird’s tail and gave them to us. It was our precious memento.
