THE WOMAN DOWN THE HALL _ Lily Hoang _ The Little Bird That Could 2

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This is when the miracle happened, when the inebriated man picked up the pulsating carcass and crammed his own fingers over the missing pockets of organs and skin, exchanging his spare body parts for the ones it lacked for just a moment or two. The bird, recognizing a strange kindness, continued to breath. This was perhaps all the little bird could do.

    So the man jumped into the car that was not his and drove with the little bird dissolving in his lap to the animal hospital where the second miracle happened and the bird survived.

    It was certain that the bird had only one functional wing and that the dog that damaged many of the little bird’s nerve endings, although which ones in particular weren’t quite clear. The man, now quite sober, agreed to care for the bird, which he’d become certain was some type of savior.

    After eight hours of surgery and after he waited for another two hours for news that the bird had survived the anesthetic and all else, the man finally went outside, and he didn’t even bother looking for the car, as he was sure that it had been stolen and if it wasn’t, he certainly didn’t have any respect left for a car that sat outside for ten hours with the keys still in the ignition that couldn’t be stolen. He walked the many many miles necessary to reach his own home, his real home.

He was tired, but he didn’t rest. He went inside and immediately began building a birdhouse. It had once been a bonding father-son activity, although he could hardly remember if it was between him and his father or him and his son, but his hands knew where to hammer, where to hold without instruction. And so he built and he built with great vigor until the house was complete. A two-story mansion designed specially for a bird missing a wing. Everything was slightly off, on this diagonal skewer, and the man, satisfied, slept. He slept for what must have been days and days and he never emerged, not even to go to the restroom, and it was not until the animal hospital called for him three days later that he finally woke, completely refreshed.

    The man got into his own car and drove. He drove until he arrived and picked up his little bird, his own little bird. He was happy to see it standing, although the dog had almost lopped off a sizable portion of the bird’s left leg. The man reminded himself to account for this in the birdhouse.


                                      Joyous,
                                                the man drove
                                                    home, eager
                                                to show the little
                                                        bird his
                                                   new palace.

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