7/28/15
Barry stared across the room at Wendy as surreptitiously as he could. He didn’t want her to notice and think he was a creep. This was their only class period together so he had to take full advantage of the time to study her every feature. Sure it was costing him his grade for the class. And once he’d even been embarrassed by the teacher when he couldn’t answer a question about what had just been taught. But Wendy was worth it.
Unfortunately, Barry found it difficult to approach her. Other guys had no trouble talking with girls, so why was it so hard for him? But the thought of walking up and asking for a date made his heart pound. What if she said no? Or worse, what if she laughed? Then again, what if she said yes?
Last week he’d finally managed to get in line behind her at the cafeteria, even though it meant sneaking out of class five minutes early to get there the same time she did. Unfortunately, his attempt to break the ice didn’t go well. When he asked if she was planning to go to the homecoming dance she said she hadn’t yet checked her horoscope that far ahead, so she didn’t know if she could go. What was this? Some new way of blowing people off? Or did she really believe that stuff? Hmm, maybe this could work for him.
Wendy was very thin, which made people wonder if she was anorexic. And if it weren’t for her custom of wearing bright colors, her black hair and pale skin could make people think her one of the ‘goth’ kids. Although she was friendly to the other girls, she didn’t hang out with any particular clique’. So she could be found walking alone as often as walking with a group.
Rumors said Wendy’s mother dabbled in magic and often tried to call on mystical forces. Some said it was a curse gone wrong that had afflicted her daughter. Other said it was a spell gone right that had kept her sickly child alive this long. The stories changed from one telling to another, thus few believed them. Still, there was enough doubt to keep anyone from bothering her.
Barry stopped at a pet shop on his way home from school and looked at their birds. In a cage labelled $20 was a bright blue one that caught his eye. He thought about how he could use it to get Wendy’s attention, then told the clerk he’d take it.
The clerk asked if he had a cage at home. When Barry saw the price of new cages was $100, however, he lied and said he already did. He then asked what he could use to get the bird home, so the clerk gave his a small, cardboard box about half the size of a shoebox.
Finally, Barry asked if the bird’s wings had been clipped and was told yes. While the clerk rang up the sale, Barry smiled to himself as he remembered he used to think that meant actually cutting a bird’s wings off rather than trimming just the feathers.
Once he reached home he perched the little bird atop the lamp beside his desk. Then after fetching a slice of bread and a saucer of water from the kitchen, he sat back pleased with his caregiving skills.
The next morning he pushed the bird back in its box, then squeezed the box into his backpack. He felt sure this would be fine until lunch period. Several hours later he again snuck out of class early and ran across campus, just managing to get to the cafeteria the same time as Wendy.
Having a special mission, and supported by his feathery good-luck charm, he found he was able to invite her to sit with him. Hoping for a little privacy, he suggested they go to one of the tables outside. After a moment’s hesitation, she agreed.
At last, seated at an isolated picnic table on the edge of the grassy commons Barry tried making small talk. But he found he was much more awkward at it than he’d anticipated. He then fell to wolfing his food so he could get to his plan sooner.
Once he saw Wendy was nearly finished too, he reached into his backpack and fumbled around until he felt the bird in his hand. Then waiting until Wendy was looking away he quickly brought his hand out and set the bird in the middle of the table.
“Wendy, look! It’s the bluebird of happiness!” he said loudly.
She screamed and jumped up, her eyes wide as she stared at the ill-treated bird flapping on the table.
“No, it’s okay,” he said. “It’s an omen.” Seeing her face cloud over he added, “A good omen. It’s a sign.”
“A good omen, you say?” she asked softly, starting to relax.
“Yes. I think it means you should go with me to the homecoming dance.”
Wendy took several steps back, then opened her mouth as if to speak. Afraid she was about to say no, Barry pressed in so as not to lose his advantage.
“It’s fate. It’s the cosmos telling us we should be together.”
At last she consented. But then unsure she’d done the right thing she hurried away. Barry grinned as he watched her go. They could arrange the details later. For now it was enough to have extracted a commitment.
A loud fluttering of wings and a brief squawk made him turn. He saw a hawk flapping away from the now-empty table, and he caught a glimpse of blue in the hawk’s claws just before it disappeared behind a tree. Oh, well. It was too bad, of course. But the little bird had already served its purpose.
The next day Barry couldn’t sit with Wendy at lunch. As he tried yet again to cut out of class, he got caught. He was then kept afterwards for fifteen minutes listening to a lecture on how every minute was important. He didn’t need to be told this: he knew it already. And precious minutes were being lost which could instead be spent with Wendy! By the time the teacher relented and he’d raced to the lunchroom, Wendy was gone.
At the end of the day he hurried for the bus loop hoping to catch her before she got on her bus. Luckily he ran into her in the hall while still on the way. Breathless, he pulled her aside.
“Hi, Wendy. I’ve been wanting to talk with you about the dance, and where we’re going to meet and stuff. Can you give me your phone number?”
“Barry. Yeah, um, about that,” she replied. “I’m afraid I have to cancel. I told my mom everything that happened, and she said that wasn’t really an omen. That was you trying to manipulate fate. And people who do that bring bad karma on themselves. I can’t go out with you; it’d be too dangerous.”
“But you already said yes. You can’t break a promise.”
“It wasn’t a promise, it was just an agreement. And you got it from me under false pretenses, so I don’t have to keep it.”
Barry’s mouth dropped open. He couldn’t even stammer an objection as he watched her turn and go into the girl’s restroom a short distance away. Well, that was the end of it then. He felt his eyes getting misty. He couldn’t let everyone see him bawl like a baby. He ran for the door as fast as he could.
Wendy hid in the bathroom hoping he wasn’t waiting for her out there. When she couldn’t stay any longer without fear of missing her bus, she cautiously opened the door. The coast was clear. Hurrying to the bus loop she was relieved to see they still hadn’t begun loading. Hearing a lot of excited chattering she asked the nearest girl what was going on.
“Some boy just got killed,” the girl said, emphasizing the words to increase the drama. After enjoying the shock on Wendy’s face, she continued. “I didn’t see it, but they said he came running out of the building like a crazy person, then as he crossed the driveway he tripped and fell under a bus coming in.”
The girl paused to see if Wendy would scream, but getting no reaction she went on. “The police and ambulance are already over there, so we can’t get a closer look.”
Wendy stepped away from the girl. She’d heard enough. She walked away from the buzzing crowd to the far edge of the pavement. There she looked at the line of idling school buses.
She pushed her mind to focus on something other than the accident. The pungent smell of diesel exhaust made her eyes water; at least she told herself that was the reason. The rumbling of a dozen engines united into a low roar, and she could feel the vibration in her chest. Her gaze roved across the outlines of buses while their colors merged into a mass of yellow.
Slowly she became aware that her eyes had fixed upon a single point. With dawning comprehension she recognized she was staring at the automaker’s emblem on the front of the lead bus. Bluebird Bus Manufacturing. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Bluebird!
She shuddered as the sensation of an icy finger traced slowly up her spine. Her back stiffened and her throat tightened. She listened in shock as words came out of her mouth in a husky voice.
“Now that’s
an omen!”
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