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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/918594-Alfred-The-Parakeet
Rated: E · Short Story · Animal · #918594
This is a story about a parakeet named Alfred.
Alfred The Parakeet
By
James W. Aubuchon

         In the Master's house, on a table near the window, sat a birdcage containing a variety of different colored parakeets. The cage was always kept very clean, and had plenty of food and water. The Master provided everything the birds needed to live a happy healthy life.
         The Master would sit at his piano every day and compose love songs for his birds. The parakeets stood on their perches and sang along as the Master played his music.
         Each parakeet had a unique personality. One parakeet was yellow and green, and spent most of his time standing first on one claw, and then the other - back and forth. If someone were watching, he tilted his head sideways to stare at the person with his mouth open. The blue and white parakeet never stood still. She jumped from one perch to another, to the side of the cage, down to the floor, and back to her perch. When the Master began to play, however, every bird in the cage joined together in perfect harmony. They bobbed up and down and swayed from side to side to the Master’s melodies.
         Sometimes the Master opened the cage and took out one of the parakeets to caress it and have it stand on his shoulder while he played. He chose a different bird every time, since he loved each one the same regardless of their color or personality. They could either stay on his shoulder, or fly around the room. They liked this since it gave them a chance to use their wings.
         Alfred was a snow-white parakeet who had lived in the cage for as long as he could remember. He liked it there, and thought the other parakeets were quite pleasant. He had many close friends.
         Alfred was not content, however. He would look through the window at the mysterious and inaccessible world outside. Out there he saw birds that were very strange and different. They flew back and forth free to go wherever they pleased.
         Alfred wanted desperately to be out there with them. He was tired of bobbing and swaying around singing the same old tweets and chirps to the Master’s music all the time. A voice inside him said, "Look at what you're missing Alfred! What freedom you would have if you were outside instead of cooped up in this boring old cage!" Alfred stood on his perch for hours and dreamed about flying out the window to do whatever he wanted and sing his own songs.
         His friends told him stories about large predatory birds that roamed about preying on small birds like him. He didn’t know if they were true, though, since he had never seen one. The only birds that he ever saw seemed harmless enough. It was probably all just myth and superstition, designed to scare any parakeets who wanted to leave the Master's house.
         One day it was Alfred's turn to stand on the Master's shoulder. The Master picked Alfred up and held him gently so he didn’t ruffle his feathers. After caressing him, he placed him on his shoulder, and went over to his piano.
         When he started playing, all the parakeets began to sing and dance. All, that is, but Alfred. Something else caught his attention. The window next to the cage was open.
         A sudden urge to fly out the window gripped him. The voice inside him said, "Now's your chance! You can be free like all those other birds!"
         He hesitated. A voice from deeper inside said, "Alfred, you should not leave the safety of the Master's house. What about your friends? What about the Master?"
         He struggled. The first voice spoke again. "You will never have an opportunity like this again. Besides, you can always come back later." He made his decision. In a flash, he took off and flew straight out the window.
         The Master tried to stop him, but it was too late. He ran to the window and called, but Alfred didn’t listen to him. All he could think about was being free at last.
         The Master stared out the window until Alfred disappeared. It hurt him so much that his precious bird flew away. Tears welled in his eyes as he thought about the dangers that awaited Alfred in the outside world. He left immediately to go out and look for him.
         Meanwhile, many strange new sensations confronted Alfred. He heard sounds of automobiles and children at play. He smelled flowers. He saw people and animals he had never seen before. This temporarily disoriented him. He couldn't take it all in at once. It took him time to adjust to his new surroundings.
         He found that he could do things outside that he couldn’t do in the Master’s house. He flew wherever he wished, and for as long as he liked. He rolled, turned, and dove in any number of ways. The possibilities were endless.
         It delighted him to feel the wind rushing through his feathers as he soared through the air in ever changing patterns. He was no longer one who merely responded to the music of the Master. Now he was the musician. He wove his own melodies as he glided through the infinite canvass of space. The Master's melodies slowly began to fade.
         He wondered how he had ever enjoyed being in the Master's house. In fact, he was so busy flying that he had forgotten where the house was. It didn’t matter. He was never going back.
         Alfred saw some strange birds perched in a tree that lay next to a small stream in a grassy park. He was anxious to make new friends, so he glided over to the tree and rested on one of the branches.
         Birds of all kinds were there. Some were larger than Alfred and had dull gray or black feathers. Others were very small with tiny wings that beat so fast they were a blur to the eye. One bird was bright red, and chirped "pretty, pretty, pretty, pretty" all the time which Alfred thought was quite vain.
         Many birds ignored him, however. They lifted their beaks and sneered at him as they flew by. "How can they not like me when they don't even know me?" Alfred pondered. Most birds had friends of their own kind and didn’t associate with other kinds of birds. Since Alfred was the only parakeet around, he didn't fit in anywhere.
         He finally did make some friends with a group of odd kinds of birds like himself. These birds were quite strange though. All they talked about was how wonderful they were, and how terrible all the other birds were. Alfred was willing to do anything to make friends so he began to act just like them. Soon he was warmly welcomed into the group.
         He and his friends all roosted together and spent most of their time harassing other birds. They made fun of some and tried to pick fights with others. Alfred felt bad for doing this, but he was afraid of losing his friends so he didn’t say anything.
         One day, Alfred and his friends were perched on a telephone wire passing the time when a strange shadow passed overhead. It made Alfred very uneasy. The whole sky seemed to darken momentarily at its presence. A shiver ran down his spine as he recalled the stories about large predatory birds. He wondered if he should ask one of his friends about it, but he decided not to. He didn't want them to think that he was weak or scared. He shrugged it off, and soon forgot the whole incident.
         Alfred couldn’t see how he had changed. He was so busy having fun that he didn’t take care of himself properly. He only cleaned his feathers if absolutely necessary, and since it was so much trouble to search for food, he didn't eat much. He became very thin and dirty looking. The snow-white luster of his feathers slowly faded to a dull gray.
         He also couldn’t see how he had changed on the inside. He learned from his new friends that the only person he needed to be concerned about was himself. He was becoming a very hard and bitter bird.
         The Master searched for his bird every day. He left in the morning and went out on the streets and highways calling Alfred’s name. In the evening he returned, saddened at not finding him. He still played the piano, but the parakeets could sense something was wrong in his music.
         Once the Master thought he saw Alfred. There was a dirty scraggly looking bird sitting on a fence that looked like it might be a parakeet. He called to the bird, but it ignored him and flew off. It was Alfred, but he no longer recognized the Master.
         One bright spring morning, when the flowers were blooming and there was a smell of freshness in the air, Alfred went out flying. He soared up high and then entered into a dive, turning back and forth and rolling as he went. He pulled out at the last moment, barely missing the ground. He said to himself: “If I became good enough at flying, I won’t need my friends anymore. I won’t need anybody. I’ll be better than all of them!”
         Little did he know that he was being watched.
         The hawk had been circling high overhead for some time. He had pure black feathers and dark glowing red eyes. He peered down with a cold, merciless stare at his intended victim far below him. An expression of evil delight appeared on his face and his mouth began watering, as he thought about the tasty meal awaiting him.
         He waited for the right time to make his move. Then he turned and broke into a dive, his talons outstretched to snatch his intended prey. He screamed through the air, approaching his victim in total silence.
         He caught Alfred completely off guard. Alfred tried to outfly him, but the hawk was too fast. He tried to maneuver away, but the hawk stayed right on his tail. The hawk was closing in, and Alfred was running out of breath. He had just enough energy to make a sharp turn to the right as the hawk’s talons reached for him. They tore into Alfred’s left wing, sending him hurtling to the ground.
         The hawk didn’t see exactly where Alfred landed. The ground was covered with bushes. He hovered over the area for a while looking intently for his morsel but eventually he gave up and left to find more interesting prospects.
         Alfred awoke much later. He was lying under a bush covered with dirt and leaves. He got up dizzily, and tried to shake his feathers off the best he could. He crawled out from under the bush, and went to look for help. His wing was badly injured and he was unable to fly. He had to hobble slowly along the ground.
         He soon found his friends in a nearby tree. When he asked for help, though, they only stared at him in disgust. Some even made fun of his wounded condition. "Imagine, a bird walking on the ground like a lowly animal!" Alfred just put his head down and walked on. He trudged along until he could go no further, and fell to the ground exhausted. He was certain that this was the end. He had nowhere else to go.
         Then he remembered the Master. He recalled what it was like to be in the birdcage singing and dancing to The Master’s music. He pictured his old friends. "They would have helped me if I was in trouble," he thought. He didn’t know how to get back to the Master's house, though. Even if he did, he wasn’t sure if the Master would take him back.
         Then one of the Masters melodies came to him. He had not sung it for a long time, but he tried to chirp along with the music. He couldn’t remember what to sing, so he just made something up. His voice was low and halted at first, and doing it caused him pain inside. He almost gave up, but soon he was able to chirp a little more loudly. Strangely, what he was making up fit perfectly with the music. Alfred rejoiced, and sang even louder as the new song filled his heart.
         But his joy turned to despair when he saw a dark figure coming towards him in the distance. He was too weak to move, so he just lay there and awaited his fate. "If only I'd stayed in the Master's house!" he cried. "I'd give anything to be there now!"
         The dark figure approached. It was then that Alfred recognized who it was. It was the Master! He had heard the familiar sound of Alfred’s singing, and headed towards it. He picked Alfred up and held him close to his heart. Tears of joy came to his eyes. He had found his precious little bird!
         He took Alfred home and nursed him back to health. He cleaned him up, bandaged his wound, and gave him food and water. He showered him with love and kindness. Alfred missed the love that the Master had for him. It felt wonderful. It wasn’t long until he was just like his old self again.
         When his wing had healed, the Master took him and placed him back in the cage with the other parakeets. Alfred’s friends all welcomed him back with open arms. They were glad that he was still alive and safe.
         "I love you all very much," the Master said to them. "The only reason that I keep you here is to protect you."
         Alfred realized that the Master’s house was his home. He spent the rest of his days at home singing and dancing to the Master's beautiful music.

The End


This story, along with two others, can be found in my new book Tales of Inspiration http://www.lulu.com/jwaubuchon
© Copyright 2004 Norksquad (norksquad at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/918594-Alfred-The-Parakeet