Story: Dean and the Bird (Week 3)

The bird eased itself and stood on a cabinet in the corner of the captain’s private room with a sigh. "You must forgive me," it said. "I'm afraid I'm addicted to various forms of relaxation. When one is as old as I…"

The Captain nodded impatiently. He sat down at his desk and folded his

hands.

"All right," he said. "Let's get started. You're a bird, and not a demon? Is that correct?"

The bird shrugged. "I suppose so. That's what you would call us, the natives used different language but I guess “bird” would be the same exact term. I mean, my kind, we have our own term."

"You speak the natives’ tongue? And how do you speak English? You've been in contact with Englishmen before?"

"Our kind have been in contact with all vary type of humans before sir, but this is my first time in contact with an Englishman."

"Then how do you do it?"

"Speak English or the natives’ language? Am I speaking English? I'm not conscious of speaking anything in particular. I examined your mind…"

"My mind?"

"I studied the contents, especially the memory house, as I refer to it…"

"I see," the Captain said, trying to give a threshold in this conversation.

"We are a very old race," the bird said. "We are very old and very small. It is easy for us to move around but when you are small you are at the mercy of larger life forms such as yourself. There is no use in our relying on physical defenses. How could we win? So we fly away, because we are too soft to fight, but in order to survive one must learn to hunt game, yes captain?"

"So, how do you hunt your game?"

"There are plants and vegetables around. But if we are lucky enough, the game would come to us instead. We can eat almost anything. We're very flexible. We are tolerant, varied, and most of all we understand human desires. We live and let live. That's how our kind and your kind have live along side captain."

The bird eyed the Captain.

"And that's why I so violently objected to this business about having me

boiled. Our kind has been living together since the beginning of time, eating me would cause an imbalance. And I could see the image in your mind, my meat on plate, and you gobble and chew on them.”

"So? You can read minds, and you say our kind have live alongside? But this is the first I’ve seen your kind." the Captain said. "And you say you can read mind. How interesting. Anything else? I mean, what else can you do along those lines?"

"Our kind takes shape differently in different parts of the world, and my talents? A few odds and ends," the bird said absently, staring around the room. "A nice house you have here, Captain. You keep it quite neat. I

respect life-forms that are tidy. Some goats are quite tidy too."

"Indeed." The Captain nodded. "But to get back to the problem--"

"Quite so. You spoke of dining on me. The taste, I am told, is good. A

little fatty, but tender. But how can any lasting contact be established

between your people and mine if you resort to such barbaric attitudes?

Eat me? Rather you should discuss questions with me, philosophy, the

Arts…"

The Captain stood up. "Philosophy? Here’s a philosophy for you little birdy, I’m a pirate, a hungry one in fact. And in need to taste a rare kind of meat.”

"I know." The bird nodded. "But wouldn't it be more in accord with your

principles of democracy if we all drew straws, or something along that

line? After all you are a pirate, and pirates practice democracy and democracy is to protect the minority from just such infringements. Now, if each of us casts one vote…"

The Captain walked to the door.

"To hell with this," he said. He opened the door. He looked at the boy and instruct the boy to take the bird to the cook and prepare for it to be boiled.