“What?” I thought as I heard the chirp ring out from our little hovel dug into the broadside of an old, sturdy tree.
“What?” Another chirp was elicited out of my mouth as I was slowly and playfully shoved towards the door of my Mother’s house. By my own Mother’s wings at that!
“What, what, what, what, what?!” Full on squawking now.
Full-on squawking.
Shameless.
But you couldn’t blame me! I thought when I woke up today, the day would be like any other! First, I would fly out of the door and try to find any little worms climbing up our tree for a little morning snack before breakfast—I know getting a snack before breakfast sounds so gluttonous—but Mother said I was a growing boy.
And Mother always knew best.
“Well, not today, I guess!”
“Alright! You’ve lived with me long enough now to know all the things a good wood-pecking boy needs to survive in a bird-peck-wood world!” The door—well, more like a hole—grew increasingly larger, as if the window to the great outside was fattening in sync with my own nerves.
Mother kept pushing me in jest with her left wing, while her right wing was pointed to the floor of our hole. Specifically, its rings of age. “Remember! You want a tree that’s got at least thirty of these lines when you dig halfway through! I don’t know what they are, but last time I tried with a tree that only had twenty, it fell to the winds of some messed-up storm!”
“Wait-Wait-Wait!!! Can’t we talk about this?!” I tried pleading first.
“What’s there to talk about? You’re a man now, and that means you need to make it big out there in the great outside!” She questioned me.
“I mean… yeah? But, what’s wrong with me living with you, Mom? If this is about me being chubby, I can start leaving some of the mealworms and caterpillars I find in the morning for you!” The entrance was uncomfortably wide now. “That’s great, right?! Your boy doing some chores around the house!”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Wow! Maybe I should have threatened to kick you out more when you were younger… would’ve gotten more renovating done back then.”
I breathe in a gasp of relief.
“So I can come back?”
Silence was what greeted me in response.
“Right?!”
A silence paired with my mother’s left wing that never stopped shoving me out.
“I don’t like how forceful your wing is all of a sudden!!! What happened to yesterday ago when we were still a family?!”
I damn near cheered when she stopped pushing me.
“Hold on a minute… aren’t I standing too close to the edge of our hole?” I observed in my mind as I took a breath to calm down.
“Oh… wait. I have wings.”
Not my proudest train of thought as of late. I should serve in the navy with the fishes—Ca[tain Obvious—hah!
Mother looks at me with a strange warmth in her pupils. “Son. When you start your own family, you’ll understand how deep in your heart exactly you’d want to see your children fly on their own two wings.”
“I wouldn’t be doing so if I weren’t proud of all what you’ve become with my teachings…”
The moment was wholesome. I was lost in it, like an accidental touch against cattail.
“HUH?!” I gawk out in alarm.
Now, both wings were pinning me instead of just the left one previously.
And I was utterly close to the edge…
Despite my avian heritage, I fake out a crocodile tear.
“Mom… what if—Sob!—What if you get hurt when I’m not here anymore?”
She looks at me again. This time a little bit amused.
“But, son, you’ve known it from all your morning haunts,” she pointed out to me the fault in my lie, “There’s nothing but mealworms and caterpillars here, so how could I be hurt?”
Shit.
“DON’TFORGETTOFLY!!!” All I had to take on my involuntary exile was that parting tip from Mother.
“AAAAHHHHH!!! YOU *Chirp*! RIGHT PIECE OF *Chirp*!!!”
Might as well say all the swear words I want if I would no longer be hassled for doing so. As always, there is a silver lining to every situation.
If only the silver lining were not so skewed against me!
