chapter 1: part 1

The day started in the greatest fashion possible. He awoke to the soft, cheerful music of birds. He hated waking up at three to hear them, but it was such a lovely reward. They merrily went along in their singing. The soft melody released the happiness that was kept under wraps at his job. Yet, at that moment the only things on his brain were the pleasing rhythm of the birds and the light haze of sleepiness that always seemed to fall on the plain of consciousness when one wakes.

        Gradually the haze faded and he realized that it was nearing four o’clock. Throwing off his cover he got up and grabbed his only robe. Putting it on, he opened up the thin black curtains that separated him from the hypnotic songs of the birds. Normally, he would have expected to see only the programed birds that his friend at the Parks and Rec. department had sent to his house.

        However, this morning he saw a mockingbird. Not one of the fake ones that he normally saw, but one of the ones out of the biology books he read during his high school days. The feathers were not synthetic, but actual feathers. It had eyes that looked like watery beads instead of the blood red that was programmed in by the Parks and Recreation department.

        ‘Why can’t I take this bird in? It’s not like I am stealing from the government, I am just getting a pet! But wait if I do that won’t I have to feed it and keep it? Well I guess I could do that, but then how would I keep it away from her? Well I could...’ as he thought through his plan, the bird twitched on the sill and stopped the song.

        Working fast he unlatched the window and quickly grabbed the bird. After shutting the window he quickly and quietly made a nest out of the threadbare socks he had been storing in his closet. Setting down the bird in the makeshift nest, he looked at the clock on the opposite wall. 4:25. Relaxing he sat down next to the nest.

        Trying to recall all the information he had ever collected, read, or heard about mockingbirds; he slightly hummed a single baritone note. The bird copied the note, as they are wont to do, and then magnified the intensity of it. Startled by the noise, he ran to the door and put his ear up to it. The only sounds he heard was the mockingbird copying his note and the hum of the camera positioned at his door.

        Hearing the hum of the camera added to his paranoia. ‘Damn, Forgot about that. At least the sound doesn’t come on for another…’ he thought as he looked at the clock again. This time it said 4:30. ‘thirty minutes. But what am I going to do then. If the bird won’t stop humming that note, then the camera will catch it. Maybe if I store it in my closet. But wait, won’t that be cruel to the bird. Well it would be crueler to leave it where the camera can catch it.’

        Making up his mind, he took the nest and hid it in his closet. Remembering from his books that mockingbirds mimic what they hear, he grabbed the tape recorder from the top of his closet. Fumbling with the buttons he accidently hit play.