Flying Tips for Flightless Birds

by Kelly McCaughrain

  We all stare in silence, as if he’s actually swallowed a bee and we’re waiting to see if it stings him. But he just hops off the desk, burps, says, “Thanks, Miss,” and pretends to pick his teeth as he goes back to his chair, casual as you like. Then the bell rings.

  People are still laughing as they leave, and a couple of them give Hector a small round of applause. Kitty and I just give each other the evils as we pack up.

  “Finch?” Miss Allen calls me over as I head for the door. “You know, if you want to talk to—”

  “I’m fine, Miss,” I interrupt. I feel bad for being rude to her, but I’m really not in the mood.

  She looks doubtful but says, “OK. Well, if you change your mind… But in the meantime, you can’t go around shouting at people.”

  “I know.”

  “Although I have to say –” she gives me a tiny wink and whispers – “that was much more you.”

  Hector’s not in my English class (where people spend the whole period poking their tongues around in their mouths like bees and completely weirding out Mr Morgan) but at breaktime he’s on the yard wall as usual. I try to walk past him but he sees me.

  “Finch! Did you see that throw? Bang, right between the horns! Luckiest shot ever.”

  I’m not laughing. “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Hector.”

  “I was just trying to help!”

  “Well, don’t, it’s embarrassing. Just stay away from me. I said at the beginning I didn’t want to be friends, so just leave me alone.”

  He sags. “Don’t be an arse, Finch, you don’t mean that, you’re just—”

  “I do too mean it. And you’re the one being fake, Hector. You only wanted to hang out with me to get to know Birdie. And now you’re just killing time until she’s better and you two can disappear, and I’ll be left in Loner-ville. Well, I might as well get used to it, so you needn’t bother pretending we’re friends any more.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I know all about it! I heard you talking to Birdie yesterday. I know your big secret.”

  He goes pale and swallows hard. “You heard that?”

  “Yes! I know you and Birdie are going out.”

  He looks confused, then exasperated. “You thought me and Birdie…! Oh, for God’s sake, you moron. Birdie’s not going out with me – she’s going out with James!”

  “James who?” It’s so impossible, the name doesn’t even register with me.

  “James Keane. They’ve been seeing each other for months.”

  I want to punch him in the teeth. “Liar!”

  “It’s true. She asked me not to tell you, but this is getting ridiculous.”

  “It can’t be true. And don’t you go around saying it; Kitty Bond will tear strips off her!”

  “Kitty knows. That’s why she’s been tearing strips off you, you idiot. James dumped her, not long before the accident. And she can hardly take it out on Birdie, can she?”

  “She knows!”

  “Everyone knows. Except you.” He rolls his eyes. “There seem to be a lot of things that everyone knows except you!”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He looks away. “Nothing. Look, don’t get upset that Birdie didn’t tell you. I bet you have secrets from her. You can’t know everything about a person and anyway—”

  “Wait a minute! What did you say?”

  “What? I just meant—”

  “That’s it!” I let out an enormous “HAH!” and slap him on the shoulder. “I have to go!”

  “What? Come back!” But I’m already running out of the yard and down the road. I don’t care that it’s 11 a.m. and Mr Cooper will have a pink fit – I’ve just worked out Birdie’s password.

  LOGIN: birdiefranconi@gmail.com

  Password: JamesKeane

  Password accepted

  That proves it then, Hector wasn’t lying. I don’t know what Birdie was thinking, going out with James – she’s far too good for him. And she didn’t tell me because she knows it. And she knows what he did to me. And that I hate him, and that it’s a massive betrayal, and that Kitty will murder her. What was she thinking!

  There’s only one more automatically scheduled post, but suddenly I decide not to cancel it. The blog posts are the closest I get to talking to Birdie now and it’s horrible knowing there’s only one left. I don’t want them to stop.

  There’s also a bunch of comments left by “Anonymous” on some of the older posts, which Birdie has deleted. Most of them include the words “slag”, “bitch” and “slapper”. No prizes for guessing who “Anonymous” is. What was she thinking?

  That’s the worst part, I realize, lying on her bed looking up at the Buster Keaton collage pasted on her ceiling. Our whole lives, Birdie has been like the other half of my brain. And now, for the very first time, I have no idea what she was thinking.

  Home sweet home?

  Posted by Birdie

  A travelling circus is its own little world. It has its own language and traditions, even its own superstitions. For example, did you know that a bird trapped inside the big top means bad luck? I guess it’s bad luck for the bird, anyway.

  The circus performers have their own caravan village, and they usually keep to themselves. Finch thinks this is the best part of travelling. He loves Franconis’ because it’s the only place in the world where he completely belongs. Which is great, and it’s why I’d do anything to save the place for him, but I sometimes wonder if there’s a downside.

  When they arrive in a town, the first thing circus people have to do is find a school for all the kids to go to. A circus kid can attend 300 different schools. They probably pick up a lot of Facebook friends, but not many real ones. I don’t know how much of an education they get, but most of them will stay in the circus all their lives anyway. They will grow up there, work there, live there, date there, marry there and have more circus kids there.

  They don’t have much choice. It’s the only place in the world they belong.

  < < Previous Post

  It’s ironic really. Franconis’ is Mum’s career, Janie’s home, the only future Py wants, the only friends Hector has, the only place I belong, and it’s family for all of us. But that’s not the reason we’re killing ourselves trying to put this show together: we’re doing it for Birdie.

  And it turns out, she was only doing it for me.

  I’ve been rereading all her blog posts. They make a lot more sense, now I know about James. All that stuff about taking a day off from the circus, and Avis and Evelyn arguing over a guy, and double acts not having time to date. I’m starting to wonder if Birdie would even care if she woke up and found Franconis’ was gone.

  I’m late for my shift at the hospital, but when I arrive Mum’s car is in the car park, and as I walk down the corridor I see Dad coming the other way carrying coffee cups. He looks pale, tired and unsteady, and he doesn’t seem to see me until I’m right under his nose.

  I’m still mad at Hector for not telling me the truth, and for letting me ramble on and on with my James conspiracy theories, and I’m trying to think of a way of getting out of doing the show with him without having to tell anyone why, so I say, “Dad, do you think this whole clown act is a good idea? I’m just not sure. I mean, do you think Birdie would approve?”

  He blinks at me in a dazed way, then laughs like a crazy person. “Ask her yourself, son,” he says. “She’s awake.”

  I crash through the door to Birdie’s room so fast, I almost knock the doctor over. Then Mum has to stop me launching myself at the bed.

  “She’s awake? She’s awake? Dad said she’s awake! Why are her eyes closed? Is she awake?”

  Mum’s laughing and hugging me. “Calm down, sweetheart. She woke up for a few minutes but she’s sleeping again. The doctor says that’s normal; she’ll only be awake for a little while at a time at first, but she’s not in the coma any more.”

  “You’re sure? She was definitely awa
ke?” I peer at her. She looks just the same as last time I saw her, and the machines are still beeping away.

  “She spoke to us. She was very weak and disoriented but she said, ‘Where’s Finch?’”

  “Really? She asked for me?”

  “Of course she did.”

  “She also asked for lunch money, but we’re putting that down to the disorientation,” Dad says, coming through the door with the coffee. “I called Wren – she’s on her way with Jay.”

  The doctor starts telling us what to expect, but she doesn’t send me out of the room this time, and her smile is a real one.

  “She’ll wake for longer and longer periods over the next few days, but she’ll have something called post-traumatic amnesia for weeks. She’ll be confused and have holes in her memory. She probably won’t remember the accident and she might forget things you say to her. This should get better with time, but you’ll have to be patient. When she’s able to talk to us more, we’ll be able to assess any lasting damage to her mental functioning, but the fact that she spoke to you and knew who you were is a great sign.”

  “Thank you so much, Doctor,” Mum says. You’d think the doctor had done some sort of magic trick and brought Birdie back herself. In reality, all she did was wait with the rest of us, but I feel like hugging her too. And all the nurses. And the canteen staff, and the cleaners. I’d hug Kitty Bond if she was here.

  Even though I hover over her bed almost every minute, it takes a couple of days before I manage to catch Birdie with her eyes open. I sit there through the afternoons, singing “Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want” by The Smiths and doodling on my homework.

  And then one afternoon, a tiny voice that sounds so far away I think at first it’s coming from the garden outside, says, “I hate The Smiths.”

  “Bird!” I shuffle my chair right up to the bed, grinning manically at her. It’s stupid, because I’ve done nothing but long to talk to her for weeks, but now she’s awake, I don’t want to say anything. I just want to look at her weak, pale, blinking, tired, open eyes.

  “Hiya,” she murmurs. All these weeks this room has felt like an empty room, and now it’s like she’s finally walked through the door and there are two of us again.

  I find myself whispering. “Hiya. I’ve missed you.”

  “What happened?”

  “You had an accident, you’re in hospital. But you’re OK now.”

  “Were you hurt?”

  “No, I wasn’t there. And I’m really sorry about that.”

  “I can’t remember.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “I’m tired.”

  “Go to sleep then, I’ll see you later.”

  And that’s it, our big reunion. She closes her eyes and falls asleep, but now I’ve spoken to her, it doesn’t feel like she’s gone away again, and I hum quietly as I do my homework, so as not to wake her.

  Over the next few days I have several scintillating, if brief, conversations with Birdie, most of which she has forgotten thirty seconds later:

  “What have I missed at school?”

  “A lot of homework, so nothing important. Hector says he’ll help you catch up.”

  “Are you being nice to Hector?”

  “I’m always nice!”

  “Are people being nice to you?”

  “No worse than usual. A bunch of them came to visit you. Did you see the flowers they sent? Birdie? Birdie?”

  “Tony told me about you and Hector in the children’s ward. Have you met Tony?”

  “Yeah, I know Tony.”

  “He’s nice.”

  “Yeah. Hector’s a maniac; you wouldn’t believe the stuff he’s making me do.”

  “Are you being nice to him?”

  “I’m always nice!”

  “Did I miss anything at school?”

  “How’s Franconis’?”

  “Going strong. Well, we haven’t folded anyway.”

  “I told Tony about the show. Have you met Tony?”

  “Yeah, I know Tony.”

  “He’s nice.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry I won’t be in the show, Finch. I feel like I let you down.”

  “Don’t be silly, Bird.”

  “They said I have to have physio for months before I can train again.”

  “I know.”

  “Tony said he’d come and see the show. Have you met Tony?”

  Hector’s back to texting me every five minutes, but now it’s to see how Birdie’s doing. The doctor’s insisted on “family only” visiting for the time being.

  How is she today?

  Breakdancing and having pillow fights with the nurses.

  Did she say anything?

  She said Trekkies are losers.

  You’re hilarious.

  She ate three bites of toast.

  Wow! That’s great!

  And she said if you come down tomorrow, Tony will sneak you in to see her.

  Really?

  Yeah, they’re like best mates now or something.

  See you tomorrow then!

  While Hector’s with Birdie, I sit on the steps outside the hospital entrance, imagining her asking him, “Is Finch being nice to you?”

  And him replying, “Finch is never nice.”

  Not that Hector would even say that because the fact is, Hector’s always nice.

  I don’t know what my problem is; I’d like to blame it on having a lot to deal with since Birdie’s accident, but I can’t. I just seem to be angry or irritated all the time, and I take it out on everyone. Well, now Birdie’s better, I’ll have to try harder, especially since she’s got a boyfriend and if I’m not nice to Hector, I’ll be spending a lot of time on my own.

  When I think about Birdie’s boyfriend, my new resolve to be less grumpy is immediately tested. And as if the universe is trying to prove that I’m incapable of keeping it, I look up to see James Keane walk through the hospital gates.

  He stops at the bottom of the steps, hands in his pockets.

  “She’s not allowed visitors yet, just family,” I tell him.

  “Oh. It’s just Sinead said Hector was going to see her and—”

  “Hector’s circus family. What are you?”

  He shrugs and sits down next to me. He looks miserable. “Nothing really, I just want to talk to her.”

  Suddenly I feel sorry for him, because I know what it’s like to want to talk to her. But I still don’t trust him. “I thought you were her boyfriend.”

  “She dumped me.”

  “She did?”

  “That night. It must have been just before her accident; when I left the circus school, she was getting ready to practise. She told me we couldn’t see each other any more. That’s why I was so mad at you when I saw you; I blamed you.”

  “Me? Why was it my fault?”

  “Because she knows you hate me. She thought you’d be upset if she went out with me, that’s why we kept it secret. She said you’d take it as a big betrayal or something, and she was your only friend and she couldn’t abandon you.”

  “Wow, thanks, Birdie, that’s not at all embarrassing.”

  “I was pretty angry. But the truth is, it’s my own fault you hate me. And it’s my fault you get a hard time at school. I tried to talk to you about it a couple of times, but I’m not very good at that sort of thing and you’re always so … I don’t know, you don’t make it easy to apologize.”

  “Am I supposed to apologize for that?”

  “See? Look, I’m sorry for all that stuff back when we fell out. I was a jerk, and I regretted it like five seconds later, but I was getting all this crap from the other guys about hanging out with you, and we were all new at school and I didn’t want to be that guy right from day one. So I ditched you. But it was cowardly and I regret it.”

  It was a long time ago and an apology shouldn’t make any difference now, but it does. In fact, for the very first time it actually seems like it was a long time ago.
Anyway, I know how hard it is to stand up in front of the popular kids and say what you really think. Why did I think it would be any easier for James?

  I just nod at him, because it doesn’t fix everything, but it does mean something.

  “If you want to know the truth,” he says, “I was better friends with you than I’ve ever been with anyone else. Until I got to know Birdie.”

  “How did I not notice you two hanging out?”

  “She sat with me in French while you were in Spanish. She gave me a hard time at first, but after I apologized for what happened with you, we started talking and then walking home together. And then she’d tell you she was going to the library to do blog posts, but she’d come over to my house to do them instead.”

  “That sneaky—”

  “If it helps, she felt guilty about it. But she couldn’t stand the thought of hurting your feelings, and she knew you’d try to talk her out of dating me. You seemed to want her at the warehouse every spare minute. I never got to see her, which made me mad, and then I’d lash out at you at school. It was just a big mess, and Kitty was all over Birdie because I broke up with her, and I couldn’t even stand up for you two because then you’d find out the truth. I think it just all got too much for Birdie, so she dumped me. And I’ve been so scared that her accident was my fault, because she was so upset that night. I need to talk to her. Please.”

  I know what it’s like to blame yourself too. “Come back tomorrow,” I tell him. “I’ll sneak you in.”

  That night Birdie’s pretty alert and we’re able to talk properly for the first time.

  “Hector told me about your act in the show. It sounds amazing.”

  I shake my head. “It’s bizarre; can you imagine me as a clown?”

  “That’s why it’s amazing.”

  “You might have another visitor tomorrow. James wants to see you.”

  “Oh.” She looks nervous. “Are you angry?”

  “No. I’m a bit confused though. He apologized for everything.”

  “Good.”

  “And he told me you broke up with him. Was it really because of me? And was that why you fell?”