Coo

by Kaela Noel

  “Then why does she scare you?”

  Tully raised her eyebrows. “Not much gets past you, does it? You’re right; she does make me nervous. But only because I’ve done everything wrong, and kept you a secret, and she knows. Now I have to trust her to keep you a secret. Or to help me.” Tully sighed. “Hopefully both.”

  The bite of graham cracker in Coo’s mouth became huge and tasteless as cardboard. She spat it out.

  “We have to leave right now, Tully! We can go back to the roof. You can live with me on the roof. Then we help the flocks.”

  Coo stood up again. Her mind was racing.

  “No, Coo. Neither of us can go live in the woods. Or the roof.”

  “Wrong.” Coo stamped her foot. “Get away from Lucia. Quick.”

  “Coo, it’s not just Lucia. We are going to have to deal with Lucia or someone like her at some point.” Tully put her head in her hands. “And there are so many unanswered questions bothering me. What if your real family is out there looking for you? I’ve checked, but how do we know for sure? What if someone is looking for you, and it’s my fault they never find you? That would break my heart.”

  Coo stared at Tully, baffled. Tully knew her story. She was abandoned, and the pigeons had saved her. No one else wanted her. Why would Tully question it? Didn’t she believe what Coo told her?

  “You are my real family. You and Burr and the flock.”

  “Yes, we’re family. I don’t ever want to go back to life without you. But something has to change. There is no way for me to keep you a secret and also give you a stable, normal life, with school and proper care.”

  “No school. Just you and me and Burr always, like now.”

  “But Coo, I worry about things like—well, what if something happened to me?”

  “Happened to you?”

  “What if I died? I know it’s scary, but—”

  “You can’t die,” Coo said confidently. “Ever.”

  Tully smiled. “That’s news for modern science. But I have to think about what would happen to you if I did, or if I became sick.”

  “I will live on the roof.” Coo said it automatically, even though her heart sank as she thought about it. Life alone with the pigeons wasn’t enough anymore. Too much had changed.

  “Not an option, Coo.”

  “You will not die, Tully.”

  “Not for a very long time, I hope.” Tully pulled Coo into a hug. “The most important thing is this. No matter what, know that I love you and I will do everything I can to make sure you’re safe. Always.”

  Coo wrenched herself out of Tully’s arms.

  “No!” she shouted. “Not the most important thing. Most important thing is that we are all together. You, me, and Burr! And pigeons are safe!”

  In the midst of Coo’s outburst, Roohoo swept down to the table and carted the whole box of graham crackers up to the top of the fridge. No one tried to stop him.

  “Humans have laws, Coo,” Tully said in a very tired voice. “I’m not the kind of person who can get away with breaking them.”

  Coo shut her eyes. The flock laying sick in the alley. The pictures of Nicolas’s far away family. Cars hurting people and animals. So much was wrong with the way humans did things.

  “I hate humans! I hate them!”

  Coo’s fear turned to anger. She felt it rise up and froth in her like a pot of noodles boiling over. She clenched her hands into fists. Human language was suddenly too hard. She dove into her nest and buried her head in the newspaper and blankets. She shut her eyes so tightly tiny lights burst in the darkness. She pushed away thoughts of Aggie and Tully. Instead, she burned with fury for dead pigeons and cruel human rules.

  “Coo.”

  At the sound of Tully’s voice, Coo threw her hands over her ears. When Tully touched her shoulder, she wiggled away.

  “Okay, you?” Burr’s wings brushed her head. “Upset, you?”

  “Humans, Burr,” she heard Roohoo say. “Loud, them. Can’t help it. Like seagulls.”

  “Run away, flock,” Coo whispered to Burr. “Run away, me. Soon!”

  “Sleep, you,” Burr said, gently pecking at her hair. “Tired, you. Sleep now.”

  Eyes shut, Coo felt herself began to drift off.

  Much later, she woke briefly as gentle hands tucked a blanket around her and shut off the lights.

  Crash. Hiss.

  Something huge and small at once had made a sound like a clap of thunder and a toss of hail. But indoors.

  Coo sat up. It was still dark. Burr squawked and hopped just above her.

  The lights came on. Too bright.

  Coo blinked and squinted.

  “This dratted bird!” Tully stood in the doorway to her bedroom. “Enough!”

  Scattered on the floor from the kitchen all the way into the living room were hundreds and hundreds of tiny brown pebbles. Coo realized they were dried pinto beans.

  Sitting in the middle of the floor, torn plastic bag still stuck in his beak, was Roohoo.

  “Can’t eat rocks, you,” muttered Burr. “Silly bird.”

  “Look like jelly beans,” Roohoo sniffed. He had recently discovered candy.

  Tully shuffled into the room and stared at the mess. She sat down heavily on the loveseat and rubbed her eyes. “This will take a long time to clean up.”

  Coo scrambled out of her nest and over to Tully. “Help you, me.” Still bleary, she spoke in pigeon.

  “Someday I really want you to teach me to speak pigeon, Coo,” Tully said, smiling. “I often forget just how amazing it is that you can talk to birds.”

  “I will clean up, I mean.” Shaking off the last bits of sleep, Coo began picking up the little beans.

  “Coo! No. We’ll do it in the morning.”

  Coo looked up.

  “Easier without me,” Coo said. “For you.”

  “What?”

  “No me—no problems. No worrying, for you.”

  The thought was new but made perfect sense. All Coo had brought Tully was trouble, including Roohoo. Tully was better off without her.

  “Coo, no! You have made my life so much better. Don’t you understand?”

  “No. I’m a problem.”

  Tully’s eyes were damp. She opened her arms.

  “Coo, stop. I love you. We will find a way to stay together. I promise, okay? I will fight to keep you with every ounce of energy in my body, and I will never mind doing so. I will always keep you safe.”

  Coo stepped back, shaking her head.

  “Come here, sweetie,” Tully beckoned. “Please don’t ever think you’re a problem.”

  Coo crawled onto Tully’s lap. Snuggled there, she felt the warmth of spring sunshine and fresh pancakes. She smelled Tully’s smells: bread, peanut butter, flowery shampoo. She breathed it in.

  For a moment, she believed everything—even her flock—would be okay.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The Taxi Ride

  Friday morning. Coo and Tully left the apartment just after six thirty. The sky was the soft, dark, peach color of the sweater Tully was knitting for Coo. The air felt warm and gentle, even though it was still winter. There was a hint of spring in the way the breeze smelled.

  Coo wished it were storming. They were releasing the pigeons into—what? Everything was about as clear as a puddle. A poisonous puddle.

  Would the two men come back to hurt the pigeons in some new way? What about all the other flocks in the city? What was going to happen to her? So many troubles to solve. The lovely weather felt like a cruel joke.

  The streets were mostly deserted. Tully seemed nervous. She insisted Coo hold her hand and kept looking every which way over her shoulder, especially as they got closer to the alley.

  At least Coo had Burr. She peeked down the zippered front of her coat. He popped his head out and scrambled onto her shoulder.

  When they reached the alley, the gate was still wide open. Tully hurried them toward the hut. The alley was deep in shadow and very
cold. Coo felt goosebumps.

  Roohoo was perched on the fence near the fire escape, preening his feathers. He had insisted on flying. He looked up at them briefly, then went back to grooming himself.

  Coo glanced down as she walked, then gasped. Poisoned seed was scattered in the gravel. Somehow she thought it would have vanished, but it was still there, glinting.

  Tully had brought a small broom and a plastic bag with her, and while Coo watched—Tully wouldn’t let her help—she scraped up all of the seed the poisoners had scattered. It took a while.

  “Good riddance,” Tully muttered when she was done. She tied the bag shut. “I’ll find a safe place to throw this out later. Now, a snack for us.”

  Coo didn’t have much of an appetite, but she pulled out the bag of day-old donuts from Holy Doughnuts, a fancy new shop nearby, that Tully had given her to carry. She halfheartedly munched on a blackberry-frosted cruller. Tully ate a cinnamon-dusted cake donut.

  “I still miss Donut Time,” Tully sighed. “They were so much better than this spot, honestly. They were no frills, but they’d been in business for decades.”

  Roohoo swooped over and nicked at the bag with his beak, trying to drag it away from Coo as he flapped his wings furiously. Coo gave him a chunk of her cruller, and he flew off to eat on top of the hut. She let Burr nibble from a little strawberry jelly bombolone.

  They waited.

  Trains rang on the tracks. The sun rose higher until the sky above was pale yellow, then white, then blue.

  Sunlight was just beginning to reach the alley when there came the sound of tires on the gravel.

  They held their breath as Nicolas’s yellow taxi came into view.

  Nicolas popped out of the front seat, beaming, as soon as he parked. “The flock knows they’re home. They sound so happy.”

  Suddenly all of Coo’s worries left her.

  The flock. Her flock. They were here, they were healed, and they were about to fly again.

  Couldn’t everything go back to normal?

  She thought about her plan to fly with the flock somewhere wild and safe. Now that she was in the alley, looking up at the roof, it seemed impossible and silly. Maybe the poisoners would never come back. Maybe no one would ever question her life with Tully, and she could try to do more chores to make up for all the headaches she’d brought into Tully’s life. Maybe Lucia really would help, and nothing had to change. Maybe she could even go to Aggie’s school and do homework and have a normal human life.

  Maybe.

  Bracing Burr with one hand on her shoulder, Coo hurried to the taxi. She opened the door and saw the stacks of cages braced with blankets. The voices of her flock rose up in a wonderful chorus.

  “Home, us!”

  “Roof, here!”

  “Must be! Get out how, us?”

  “Humans here.”

  New Tiktik, Old Tiktik, Hoop, and Ka. Hem and Pook and Loop. Chik and Liloo, and all of the others. Their voices were jumbled together, but Coo knew each one.

  “Here, me!” Coo said.

  “Coo! Coo! Coo!” the pigeons sang. Coo had never heard them sound so joyful.

  “Healthy, you!” said Burr, leaning forward. “Safe, flock! Relieved, me.”

  Tully gently tugged Coo aside. Nicolas leaned in and began passing the plastic cages out of the car one by one. Together, Coo and Tully set them down in rows on the gravel. Roohoo landed on the edge of the taxi’s roof and leaned over to watch.

  “Okay,” said Nicolas. “We’re ready.”

  He showed Coo and Tully how to open the cages.

  Coo’s fingers shook as she pressed each latch until the doors popped. One by one, her flock mates hopped out.

  “Home!” said New Tiktik. She lifted her wings and rose into the air. “Home, us!”

  Coo felt her eyes fill with tears.

  Soon the whole flock was swooping through the alley and high up above the roof, the rail yard, and beyond. They arced and banked and turned, their feathers shining in the morning light. Roohoo took off and joined them.

  Only Burr remained, hopping gleefully on Coo’s shoulder. With a sudden sinking feeling, Coo wondered how he felt. He’d never fly again. Did he miss it?

  The old deep wish in Coo’s bones shifted and came awake. She reconsidered her plan. If she could fly—with the flock’s help—then Burr could, too. Right on her shoulder or in the pouch in her jacket.

  Coo watched the pigeons and shivered.

  They had just finished packing the last empty cage back into the car when a familiar white van came skidding down the alley. It jerked to a stop next to Nicolas’s taxi. Stan jumped out, followed by Frank. The flock, which had settled around the alley again, took off in a panicked flight toward the old dovecote.

  “Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.” Tully’s eyes went wide. “Not these two. Not now! We have to get out of here. Coo, get in the taxi, quick!”

  But Coo was already dashed toward the men. “You!” she screeched, bundling Burr into the safety of her coat as she ran. “You hurt my flock!”

  Before Tully or Nicolas could stop her, Coo threw herself at Stan, who leaped back. Frank stared, slack-jawed.

  “This kid is out of control,” shouted Stan. “Grab her, Frank!”

  Before he could, Nicolas swooped Coo up around the waist and shoved her into his taxi. Coo scrambled between the empty cages, cradling Burr with one hand. Tully jumped in after her and slammed the door. Nicolas dove into the driver’s seat and started the engine, while Tully tried to buckle Coo’s seat belt into place.

  “Messing with city business is a criminal offense, got it?” Stan banged on the taxi window. “We’re not going to let a bunch of animal-rights nut jobs like you get away with it!”

  Coo stared up at Stan’s waxy, scowling face. Her heart pounded so hard, she was sure it would come right of her body. The seat belt strap dug into her neck. Her hands went to her coat, where Burr shifted nervously. Nicolas started to back the car up, but Stan refused to move. He hammered on the back windshield and tugged at the doors. Then he pulled out a phone and began snapping pictures. Tully threw her coat over Coo’s head. Everything went dark.

  “The cops will be here pronto!” Coo heard Stan shout. “They’re going to get you people! I know you sabotaged this site.”

  Coo clawed at Tully’s coat until she could see. Nicolas managed to maneuver the taxi past the van, where Frank paced back and forth looking bewildered, and up the alley. Coo was startled to glimpse Roohoo for a moment. He sat alone on the fence, watching. The taxi turned past the bend. Stan followed, waving his fist, then he spun around and was gone. Nicolas pulled out onto the street.

  “What’s going to happen to the flock, Tully?” Coo asked as Nicolas zoomed down the block and into traffic. The empty cages rattled and shifted around her in the backseat.

  “A better question is what’s going to happen to us?” Tully squinted out the back window. “I can’t believe it. I see their van! They’re following us! Nicolas, can you lose them?”

  Nicolas turned and twisted through the streets. Coo gripped the seat and tried not to throw up. Burr popped his head out of her coat, looking just as queasy.

  Nicolas kept glancing into his rearview mirror. Coo noticed his neck was wet with sweat, even though it was very cold in the car. “I’m praying that man was just bluffing,” said Nicolas. “He took a photo of my taxi.”

  “Oh my goodness! What a mess I’ve made for all of us!” Tully put her head in her hands. “I am so sorry to have gotten you mixed up in this, Nicolas. If anyone asks, I’ll tell them we just hailed you on the street. I promise, I’ll make sure you won’t be blamed.”

  “Stop apologizing, Tully.” Nicolas waved one hand in the air. “I signed up for this. Of course I worry for myself. But who is worrying for the pigeons, if not us? Everything will be fine. Look, I don’t even see the van behind us anymore, do you?”

  Coo turned around. The van was gone.

  Nicolas drove down streets of red-brick
buildings and spindly bare trees that were almost, but not quite, the same as the ones on Tully’s own block. The city was huge, much bigger than Coo pictured it in her mind. Did it just go on and on and on? How far away, exactly, were forests and places without people?

  She pressed her face to the cold window. People hurried along the sidewalks, bundled up against the wind. Did any of them think about pigeons? Did any of them care?

  Nicolas turned left, and Food Bazaar’s parking lot suddenly appeared. Coo realized they had been driving in circles.

  “I think it’s safe to go home now, Nicolas.” Tully peered through the car windows, then closed her eyes. “As safe as it will ever be, at least.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Escape

  Nicolas turned down Tully’s street. It had reached the time of morning when the city really woke up, when kids left for school and people went out for their coffees, donuts, and bagels before work. The sidewalks were starting to bustle. Garbage trucks were out, too. Nicolas’s taxi got stuck behind one.

  “Thank you for everything, Nicolas,” Tully said. “It’s probably better if we just get out here. Again, I am so sorry for all of this. I really can’t thank you enough.”

  “Stop apologizing. Let’s talk tomorrow,” said Nicolas, leaning out of the window. “I need to come back in a few days to check the flock, make sure they’re okay.”

  “Good-bye, Nicolas!” said Coo. “Thank you!”

  The garbage truck pulled away, followed by Nicolas’s taxi. Coo and Tully squeezed between some parked cars and stepped over an empty flower bed to the sidewalk.

  “What a morning,” sighed Tully. “I need a nap. And some more donuts.”

  There was a crowd on the steps of Tully’s building. Coo blinked, then gasped.

  Lucia and two men dressed all in blue with glinting metal gadgets on their belts and hats and in their hands stood by the stoop. Beside them was a woman in a heavy tan coat and plaid scarf.

  “Lucia?” said Tully. She had turned ashen. “What are you doing here? Why are the police here?”