Birds of a Feather (Sunday Cove)

by Webb, Peggy

  “Oh, Bill!” she whispered. “I see them.” She watched as the small birds moved around, seeking unsuspecting bugs that would be their dinner. “They’re adorable.”

  “The whippoorwill is one of the night birds; it sleeps during the day and comes out at night to feed.”

  “Is it the bird that makes that plaintive call on summer evenings? The call old folks used to say means no rain tonight?”

  “That’s the one.”

  Mary Ann turned to look at Bill in the darkness. His face was all craggy lines and shadows. “How did you know they were here, Bill?”

  “When I first came here after Gloria left me I used to walk in the woods late at night, trying to sort things out. That was when I discovered that this is the feeding place for a covey of whippoorwills. Somehow the small birds helped me to put everything into perspective.”

  Mary Ann hated Gloria for intruding on this quiet time with Bill, but she tried to squelch the immature feeling. Bill was revealing something of himself, something private and important. Maybe she could learn something from the birds if she watched them long enough. She pulled her gaze away from Bill’s darkly handsome face and turned back to the small brown birds. What was she seeing? What had Bill seen? They were just feeding. Maybe that was it. They were going about the business of life without dragging all the worries of the past along with them.

  Bill’s arms tightened around her as if he had felt her flash of insight and approved.

  She turned and smiled at him. “Thank you, Bill.”

  He understood. “You’re welcome, Goldilocks. Are you ready to go? Even with my sweater, I’m afraid you’ll get cold out here.”

  She was shivering in the thin nightgown. “You’re right. I’m not exactly dressed for strolling.”

  With his arm around her he steered her away from the clearing. Suddenly, he stopped, put a hand to his lips, and tilted his head upward.

  Taking a cue from him, Mary Ann stood perfectly still, looking up into the branches of a giant pine tree.

  “Up near the top of the tree,” he whispered, pointing. “Do you see him?”

  Two bright yellow eyes glared down at Mary Ann from the dark branches of the tree. She moved closer to Bill. “What is it? Will it bite?”

  He smothered a chuckle. “It’s my old pal, the owl. The one who scared you to death last night.”

  “How do you know it’s the same one?”

  He pulled her closer. “He’s always around to do me a favor when I need him.”

  She inched away from Bill and straightened the baggy sweater across her shoulders. “I’m not scared this time. Not one bit.”

  Bill waved his arm upward, and the owl lifted his great wings toward the night sky. A whoosh of wind accompanied the startled bird as he left his tree perch and swooped off.

  Mary Ann jumped back into the protection of Bill’s arms.

  “Not scared one bit,” he teased.

  “No. It’s just an old owl.” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder.

  “Try telling that to your heart. It’s thumping like a trip-hammer.”

  “It’s those big old ugly eyes. If it weren’t for those eyes, he would be just another big bird.” She lifted her face off Bill’s shoulder and looked up. “Can we go in now?”

  “Your tent or mine?” He stood very still, waiting for her answer.

  She hesitated only briefly. They were two sane, sensible adults. There was nothing wrong in enjoying this time together in the woods. It wasn’t as if she were walking down the aisle with the man, for Pete’s sake.

  “Yours,” she said stoutly.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely, positively.” She beamed at him to show that her earlier ambivalent feelings had all disappeared.

  “What are we waiting for?”

  He scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way.

  Chapter 8

  Harriet was in her element. She had decided to take everybody in camp on her favorite nature trail. Her knobby knees, barely uncovered by her walking shorts, pumped up and down as she strode briskly ahead of the group.

  “I don’t ordinarily take the entire camp together,” she explained earnestly, “but I noticed yesterday that the trail is especially active with birds this year. If you’ll look over to your right, in that mountain silver bell you’ll see a magnolia warbler. He’s distinguished by his—” She stopped, her facing burning a vivid red. “Oh, my.” She covered her mouth with her hand as if to prevent herself from saying the words.

  “His yellow rump.” Dr. George Cottonby supplied the information for her.

  The birders hid their smiles behind their binoculars as they picked out the five-inch bird in the tree branches.

  “Yesterday I spotted three golden-crowned kinglets feeding on the branches of a fir tree just around the bend,” Harriet went on. “Everybody watch your step. We don’t want any broken bones.” She swung ahead of the group with a loose-gaited walk.

  Bill smiled down at Mary Ann. “Did you see the magnolia warbler?”

  She gave him a mischievous smile. “No, but I saw a rump.”

  “Whose?”

  “Yours.” She gave him a playful pinch on his behind. “Hmmm. Just right.”

  “Goldilocks, aren’t you interested in learning about your feathered friends?” He looked down his nose at her in a mock serious way.

  “I’m interested in learning more about my bear friend.”

  His eyebrows quirked upward. “Bear friend, huh?” He took her hand and led her away from the rest of the group. “Follow me.”

  “Bill, what are you doing?” she asked, laughing.

  “I’m going to further your education, my dear. Do you want to learn or don’t you?” His eyes were dancing merrily behind his glasses as he teased her.

  “Yes, sir.” She gave a smart salute and then collapsed into giggles. “What will Harriet think?”

  “I’ll tell her I found a bird with the most remarkable plumage, a rare bird never seen in these parts before.”

  “Bill! You wouldn’t!”

  “Maybe I can be bribed.”

  The sun sizzled in the sky, baking the top of MaryAnn’s head as she puffed after Bill. The day was unusually hot for May.

  “Slow down, Bill,” she said after a few minutes. “What do you think I am, a mountain goat?”

  She could say one thing for this affair, she was certainly getting her exercise. She had run all over the camp last night trying to find Bill’s tent, and now she was running all over the mountains.

  He turned and smiled at her. “Hurry, Mary Ann. We’re almost there.” His teeth flashed white in the dark tan of his face.

  When he smiled like that she would gladly follow him to the moon and back. Smiling or loving, Bill was some kind of man. She was glad all over that she had come on this bird-watcher’s retreat.

  “I’m going to sit down and rest a minute. I’m bushed.” She plopped herself down on a rock.

  Bill sat down on the rock beside her. “My, my. You must keep late hours, lady,” he teased.

  “Well, it’s like this,” she drawled. “I tangled with a bear last night and didn’t get much sleep.”

  “Are you complaining? If you are, I’ll shoot the bear.”

  “Actually, I’m rather fond of him. I’m thinking of chaining him to my tent pole and making a pet of him.”

  “Then he must be a very nice bear.”

  “Oh, he’s not bad as bears go.” She was having a hard time keeping a straight face.

  “Come here, you.” He pulled her to her feet and into his arms. “It’s been eight hours since I touched you, and I can’t wait any longer.” He bent his head toward hers.

  “How do you know?”

  “I counted,” he said, then his lips covered hers.

  After a long while, she said, “Tell me about this place you’re racing to. What do you expect to find? Birds?”

  “Privacy.”

  “Then, Bill, I have a s
uggestion. Let’s run.”

  And they did. Like two naughty children, they hurried up a seldom-used mountain trail to a private place, a secluded glen of moss-covered embankments and low-hanging trees.

  “Bill, it’s beautiful.” Mary Ann opened her arms wide and twirled around on her toes.

  “No Harriet with a schedule, “ he said, grinning.

  She laughed. “And no tweeting whistles.”

  “And no other birders.”

  With infinite care he unfastened each button on her shirt.

  There was something special about their careful unveiling in the golden light of the forest glen. It was almost a ritualistic peeling away of all the trappings that hinder a relationship, a stripping down to the bare essence until there is nothing but man and woman, open, trusting, and vulnerable.

  With the sunlight dappling their bodies they came together on the soft carpet of moss. It was a joining of golden light and green forest and haunting bird melody. It was a union of joy and happiness and contentment. It was a forever joining in the quiet cathedral of trees.

  Afterward, Bill held her, and Mary Ann leaned against him, her hair making a bright fan across his bare chest. She closed her eyes and fell asleep with a smile on face.

  o0o

  Something was tickling Mary Ann’s ear. Her eyes flew open. Bill was lying beside her, tickling her ear with a twig of pine and smiling. “Wake up. Sleeping Beauty.”

  She yawned enormously and grinned. “I thought I was Goldilocks and you were Bear.”

  “Wrong fairy tale. Today you’re Sleeping Beauty and I am Prince Charming, come to carry you off to my castle in the clouds.”

  “Wrong, Bill. That’s the happily-ever-after kind of story.”

  “What’s wrong with happily ever after? I like the sound of it.” His face had suddenly become serious.

  “Temporary affairs don’t end happily ever after, Bill. They end with friendly good-byes at the end of the week.”

  “We have something special. You can’t deny that.”

  Why was it so hard to be casual with Bill? They were two normal, sane adults. Why didn’t the affair feel sophisticated and temporary instead of goose-pimply and forever?

  “I’m not denying anything,” she said finally. “I’m just being realistic.”

  “Realistic or afraid?”

  “Hanging out your shingle again, Doctor?”

  “I think it’s time to talk about Harvey,” he said quietly.

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s standing between us.”

  “He’s not between us. He’s dead. Gone forever.”

  She turned her face away from Bill and looked into the thick green trees as she waited for the familiar tightening in her stomach that always came when she talked about Harvey. Instead the quiet beauty of the forest—made more special with Bill at her side—filled her with a serenity that she hadn’t known in a long time. Beside such magnificence, her mixed feelings for Harvey seemed insignificant.

  Bill was right. The past was past. The weight of Harvey that she had carried for so long suddenly lifted.

  “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Bill leaned in to kiss the tears she realized were streaking down her face. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m not sad; I’m happy.”

  “Happy? You cry when you’re happy?”

  “Sometimes.” She smiled at him. “Oh, Bill, I’ve just discovered I can think about Harvey without being mad at him for dying before we could patch up our marriage.”

  Bill cupped her face, letting his thumbs brush lightly over her lips. “Those civilized emotions of hatred and greed and pity do have a way of disappearing in a place like this.”

  “Was it like that for you, Bill?”

  “After Gloria?” He stretched lazily out on the grass, pulling her down on top of him. “In some ways, yes. I came to terms with the divorce here in the solitude of these mountains. The grandeur of nature makes most of man’s problems seem petty.”

  “Enough of this serious talk.” She leaned down to kiss him. “Do you like solitude, Bill?” she teased.

  “I like pairs.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since I met a certain Goldilocks who is terrified of snakes and raccoons and owls.”

  “I like pairs too.” At the quick gleam in his eyes she amended, “Temporarily, of course.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since I met a bear who knows how to vanquish wild creatures who have fangs and teeth and claws. “

  He playfully nipped her neck. “Bears have teeth too, my dear.” The nip changed to a heated caress. “The better to eat you with.”

  Suddenly she stiffened. “Bill,” she whispered, “there’s an animal out there looking at us.”

  “He ought to be getting an eyeful then,” Bill said, chuckling.

  “Bill, there really is one and he’s—” She stopped talking and watched in fascination as the small animal emerged from the thicket. “Oh, my gosh, Bill!” she whispered loudly. “It’s a skunk!”

  The small black creature with its bold white stripe stepped daintily from the forest, eyeing them with curiosity.

  “Don’t move, Mary Ann. Whatever you do, don’t move,” Bill whispered urgently.

  “Why? Let’s just run.”

  “Any sudden movement might frighten him and cause him to spray.” His arm tightened around her. “Lie perfectly still.”

  Her eyes grew round as she watched the skunk parade slowly around their hidden glen. When he was a few feet from them he stopped. He watched the intruders warily, as if he thought they had no business being in his forest.

  Long minutes ticked by as the skunk watched them. The sun climbed high in the sky and the shade moved. A ray of sun seemed determined to burn Mary Ann to a crisp.

  “Bill, I’m dying.” Perspiration trickled from under her heavy hair and dripped off her nose.

  “I know, Mary Ann, but you can’t move.”

  The skunk continued to hold his vigil, his black eyes darting across Bill and Mary Ann in curious fascination. An occasional wave of his tail reminded the human intruders of the formidable weapon he carried.

  Mary Ann could feel the painful redness of sunburn beginning to form a wide swath across her bare bottom. “Bill?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Do you think somebody’s trying to tell us something?”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, every time we’re together, something crazy happens. Maybe the skunk is a bad omen.” She giggled.

  “Maybe the skunk is an angel in disguise, come to bless this union.” He grinned.

  “That’s irreverent. Bill.” She dug her elbow into his ribs.

  “I thought it was clever.”

  “Bill?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Have you ever been held hostage by a skunk while lying naked in a mountain forest?”

  “Well, now.” He pretended to be in deep thought. “There was that time when I was a teenager...” His eyes sparkled at her. “Of course, the woman had braces on her teeth and her knees were knobby. “

  Mary Ann chuckled. “Did you bring any suntan lotion?”

  “No. Did you?”

  “No. I didn’t expect to be sunbathing. “

  “Is that what you call it? Sunbathing?”

  “How about ‘cavorting naked in the woods’?” She giggled again, then stopped as the skunk moved. He walked majestically across the glen and sniffed around their clothes, then moved on toward their lunch bags. “Bill, he’s nosing around our lunches now.”

  “He can have mine if he wants it. I’m not going to argue with him.”

  Mary Ann’s neck was getting stiff from holding her head propped on Bill’s shoulder for so long without moving. She felt glued to Bill with perspiration, and she was absolutely positive that her derriere would never be the same. She might even have to stand up the rest of the trip.

  “What’s he doing now?” Bill asked.

  “Who?” she t
eased.

  “You know who. The emperor out there.”

  “Well, he’s pondering whether to order red wine or white with the turkey sandwiches he’s found. He’s also thinking about putting the make on that cute little waitress who just appeared at the edge of the woods.” She squinted and peered into the woods. “Oh, my gosh, Bill,” she whispered. “It’s another skunk. We may be here forever.”

  “I can think of worse fates than being naked with you in the woods forever.”

  “Be serious, Bill.” She watched with growing excitement as the skunks saluted with their tails and moved off together toward the forest. “Our skunk is leaving, Bill. He’s going off with the other skunk.”

  “Love is grand,” Bill marveled. Cautiously, he raised his head to watch their captor march into the woods with his paramour. When the skunks had disappeared from sight he said, “You can move now, Mary Ann.”

  She flexed her stiff muscles and groaned. “I’ll never be the same again.” She twisted her head around to survey the damage the sun had done to her backside. An angry streak of red slanted across her tender skin.

  “Oh, rats,” she muttered. “How can I ever wear my jeans?”

  “Carefully, I would imagine,” he said.

  He retrieved their clothes, and she began to dress, wincing when the rough denim touched her sunburn.

  “There’s just one thing I’d like to know before we depart in search of food,” Bill said.

  “What?”

  “Your tent or mine tonight?”

  She threw her shirt at him.

  It was almost dark before they made it back to camp.

  o0o

  Mary Ann was sitting on the edge of Sally’s sleeping bag while Sally rummaged around. “There it is. I knew I had put that sucker in there.” She held aloft a tube of aloe sunburn cream, then turned and handed it to Mary Ann. “It’s funny that you should be asking for sunburn remedy. I heard Bill ask Otho for the same thing just a little while ago.” Her eyes twinkled as she studied Mary Ann. “Besides, I don’t see any burn.”

  Mary Ann shifted uncomfortably.

  “What’s the matter, Mary Ann? Cat got your tongue?”

  “Actually, it was a skunk. Bill and I had the misfortune to be held hostage by a skunk today. There we were in the forest, minding our own business, when a skunk walked in. He took one look around and decided to stay for dinner.” Her pulse was racing as she told the story, painting a comic word picture of the skunk incident, deleting all the parts that made her blush.