Flip the Bird

by Kym Brunner

  I couldn’t believe it. Someone had resorted to arson to get rid of them? Either those criminals were nuts or her parents had really pissed off a lot of people. “Whoa. That must have been scary.”

  A black bird let out a shriek from high above, interrupting our conversation. “Hold on!” I held up my hand for silence. I stopped the ATV and scoured the skies until I saw what I was looking for. “Yes! There it is!” I pointed, sitting sideways so I could talk to Lucy more easily. “See that bird? I bet you anything it’s Troy, my Dad’s falcon! Watch what he does next.”

  Both of us stared in amazement as the peregrine falcon plummeted through the air like a speeding bullet. Seconds later it dive-bombed a low-flying mallard, knocking it to the ground. A familiar scream of triumph erupted from the falcon’s mouth, and that’s when I knew without a doubt that it was Troy, the little braggart.

  “Did you see that?” Lucy asked, her eyes bulging. “That bird attacked that duck!’

  “It’s called stooping, and it’s what peregrines do best. Hang on to me. I’m going to get closer.” Sliding back into place, I gunned the engine, speeding toward them. I slid off and grabbed Lucy’s hand to help her off the ATV. “Let’s go get him!”

  Lucy didn’t let go of my grip as we raced toward the area I’d last pictured them going down. “It all happened so fast!”

  I grinned, squeezing her hand. “Yep, that’s falconry for you—​the ultimate in fast food.”

  She slapped my arm. “Not funny, Mercer!”

  But I could tell from her smile that she actually did find some humor in my joke. We hurried through the field, still hand in hand, tromping around, searching for Troy. Suddenly there was some rustling in the weeds not ten yards from us.

  “There they are.” Walking over, I couldn’t help smiling when I saw Troy. He had his wings outstretched over the mallard, bobbing up and down in excitement. I could swear there was a look of joy on his face, the same expression a little kid gets when he masters his bike without training wheels for the first time.

  Probably how I looked in the movie theater after I’d kissed Lucy.

  I let Troy gloat for a few seconds before distracting him with a chunk of meat. The female mallard he’d felled was bleeding from the mouth. Still alive, as evidenced by a few weak wing flaps. Knowing what I had to do next in front of Lucy made me cringe. I froze.

  She gasped. “Oh my gosh, Mercer! It’s still alive.” She clamped a hand over her mouth.

  I sighed, shaking my head. “Which means she’s still suffering. Sorry, Lucy, but I’ve got to dispatch it. Look away a second.” With Troy still guarding his prey, I reached down, and with one quick twist, broke the mallard’s neck, ceasing all of her movement.

  “Eeeew!” Lucy grimaced in horror. “That’s what you do? Break its neck?”

  I spun around, my hand still clutching the mallard’s now limp head. “But . . . you . . . I told you to look away!”

  “Who looks away when someone says ‘look away’?” she said, her eyebrows pinched together, questioning me. “Didn’t killing it gross you out?”

  I shrugged. “Not really. It’s part of being a nature guy, I guess. Besides, Troy would’ve eaten her alive, which would have been grosser, if you know what I mean.”

  “Sick!” Lucy made a face as if she was the one who had just eaten a still-living duck.

  “It’s not sick. It’s the food chain.” I was tired of being an animal rights guy. “Animals kill each other to eat. That’s the circle of life, and personally, I don’t think people should mess with it.” I was glad when she didn’t debate my answer, because right now I needed to get Troy’s attention off the mallard before he ripped it to shreds.

  I managed to distract Troy and discreetly remove the mallard, but now I was faced with the same dilemma as when Flip had killed the chipmunk. Leave it lay—​which in falconer lingo is called wanton waste—​or take it and use it? Bothered by either choice, I finally grabbed the mallard by its neck and stuck it in my backpack. Food was food—​in season or not.

  “Two down, two to go.” Holding Troy proudly on my fist, we headed back to the ATV.

  “Gosh. He’s so darn cute,” she cooed. “It looks like he’s wearing a little mask.”

  “He’s trying to be incognito,” I joked, realizing then we had only one bird carrier on board. Since I couldn’t drive with a peregrine falcon parked on my arm, I asked Lucy, “Do you mind driving?”

  She grinned. “Mind? Are you kidding? I love anything with an engine.”

  It took us a few minutes to put Troy’s hood on and position ourselves back onto the ATV. With Lucy seated in front of me and Troy on my left fist between us, I needed to squeeze my thighs around Lucy’s hips to keep from falling off. I hoped she didn’t think I was being a perv. “Hit it, Danica,” I joked, referring to a famous female Indy racer, “but not too fast. We’ve got some important passengers on board.”

  “Cute ones too.” Then, looking over her shoulder, she added, “And you’re not too bad either, Troy.”

  I’m pretty sure the adrenaline rush I felt could have fueled our ride home.

  She disengaged the parking brake, put the vehicle in drive, and gently pressed the throttle. We drove on, chatting mostly about my role as a falconer: How long did it take to learn? Was it hard? Did I like it? The last question had me nodding emphatically. “Now more than ever. And if Flip is gone for good, it’ll suck, but I’m going to try again. If not this season, then next year for sure. I think it’s safe to say I’ll be doing this for the rest of my life.”

  We rode along silently then. As we neared my house, she asked, “So . . . what are you going to do with that duck you put in your bag?”

  “Donate it to feed the hungry?” I quipped, wondering if she’d fall for it.

  Lucy chuckled. “Yeah, right. What are you really going to do with it?”

  “You sure you want to know?” When she nodded, I said, “I’ll cut it up for my family or our birds to eat.”

  “Ew. . . weird.” She shuddered.

  “Not as weird as eating crap sprout sandwiches.”

  “Who you calling weird, Mr. I’ve Got More Stubble Than a Billy Goat?” She reached back with her hand and patted the side of my face, making me laugh.

  “Thaaaat’s meeeeean,” I said, trotting out my best billy goat impression. I instinctively rubbed my jawline. No wonder she’d called me a goat. Two days without shaving, and I was already in danger of being mistaken for Weasel.

  Lucy turned and pulled into my driveway.

  That’s when I noticed Lincoln’s car with the reverse lights on.

  My stomach churned like whitewater rapids and my face seared with fear. If Lincoln was as mad as I figured he would be after he’d learned of the break-in, I was as dead as the mallard in my backpack.

  TWENTY-SIX

  LINCOLN WAS BACKING HIS SILVER CADDY DOWN the driveway with Maddie in the back seat. Thank goodness. The sooner he left, the better. I didn’t want to hear him whale on me about what had happened—​not now, not in front of Lucy.

  My luck ran out the second he spotted me. He threw his car into park and bolted, leaving his driver’s door open. He strode toward me at full speed, quickly closing the twenty feet between his vehicle and mine. “Mercer!”

  Lucy looked at me, panic in her eyes. “Is that your brother?”

  “Yeah,” I said with a nod, my voice not recognizable as my own. “Get off and stand back.”

  Lincoln continued storming toward me. “What the hell happened, Mercer? Did you finally cave and join HALT? Is this some initiation rite?”

  “What? No!” I screeched, unable to comprehend how he could even think that.

  Lucy leaped off on the side of the ATV away from Lincoln, and I followed, trying to distance myself from him. There was no telling what he might do when he was wild-eyed like this. I’d seen it before—​right before he beat some kid up in the school parking lot last year.

  “Then what?” he pressed. “
How did they know about our birds, huh?”

  “Not from me.” My mind raced, trying to figure out a way to protect my dignity as well as my face. “At least I got Troy back.” As if on command, Troy opened his beak in alarm. “And Bella’s in the carrier.” I’d hoped that getting this info out into the open might make him chill a little.

  “You’re lucky!” He stopped on the opposite side of the ATV and glared at me, his hands in fists. He glanced at Lucy, as if seeing her for the first time, and then back at me. “Wait a second. Is this the HALT chick you’ve been drooling over?” Before I could answer, he walked toward her, taking huge strides and pointing his finger at her. “Who did this, huh? Was it you?”

  “No!” She backed away, her eyes filled with terror.

  “Leave her alone, Lincoln!” I yelled, my anger spiking. I raced toward him as fast as a person could run while balancing a falcon on his arm. I didn’t care if he beat the crap out of me, but he needed to stay the hell away from Lucy.

  Lincoln grabbed my T-shirt as I neared him, twisting it in his fist. He pulled my face toward his. “How could you screw up this bad? Dad’s going to be so pissed!” Though I had him beat in height, he was ten times stronger than me. I held my breath until he let go with a shove. I wished I could sic Troy on Lincoln like in the Alfred Hitchcock movie The Birds. I envisioned hundreds of falcons swarming at him, pecking his eyes out as he ran screaming. One look at Lucy’s frightened face and I felt like the world’s biggest wimp. “You’d better have a good excuse, that’s all I have to say.”

  I couldn’t believe my ears. “I’d better have a good excuse? What about you? For your information, they broke in sometime last night when you were with Zola. Maybe if you weren’t so busy screwing around with her up in your room, you would have heard them break in.”

  “Liar!” Lincoln’s face suddenly turned redder than I’d ever seen on any human before. Troy squawked loudly as I tried desperately to balance him on my fist.

  That’s when I heard Lauren’s voice. “What did you say, Mercer?”

  I whipped around. Lauren had been in the car? I prayed she hadn’t heard exactly what I’d said. If I made something up quickly, maybe I could prevent my brother from strangling me.

  Before I could reply, Lincoln called out, “He’s rambling, Lauren. Don’t listen to him.” He walked with his back to Lauren, his teeth clenched as tightly as his fists. “Go put Troy and Bella away and we’ll talk about this later, you pansy‑ass HALT lover.” He spat on the ground as he shot a look of hatred at Lucy.

  What a total loser. I hated how my brother treated people, how he thought he was so much better than the rest of us. “Put your own bird away, maggot.” I knew that wasn’t the best answer to smooth things over, but right then I was done bowing down to the almighty Lincoln. I started walking toward the mews, leaving Bella in the carrier.

  “Who the hell is Zola, Lincoln?” Lauren snapped, her heeled boots clacking against the cement as she strode toward him.

  Guess she’d heard me after all. Good. Let’s see how Lincoln liked people ruining things when a pretty girl was nearby.

  He spun around to face her, his arms outstretched. “I have no idea.” He shook his head, shrugging. “C’mon, babe. Let’s drive Maddie to her party and then we’ll go eat lunch. I agreed to work later today, so I still have another thirty minutes for my break.”

  “Like I’m going anywhere with you?” Lauren’s pupils were round and black as buckshot.

  “Mercer made that story up because he’s mad at me. Go on, Mercer, tell her.” Lincoln gave me the look I’d seen a million times—​the one that said, Lie for me or you’re dead.

  So Mr. Frisky finally got caught with his pants down, and he wanted me to lie for him? If I remembered correctly, the last time I had covered for Lincoln, I’d ended up with a fat Flip. But this time it would mean a fat lip for me, so I decided to help him out. Again. “I was just kidding, Lauren. There’s no one named Zola. I mean, really? Zola is a pirate’s name, not a girl’s.”

  She looked at me, unsure if she should believe me or not, when Maddie rolled her window down. “They’re both lying, Lauren. Zola is a girl and she was here last night.”

  “You suck, Lincoln!” Lauren leaned in and snatched her purse from the front seat before storming off down the driveway.

  Lincoln whipped open Maddie’s door, fury written across his face. “Out!”

  “But what about my—”

  “Now!” he screamed.

  Maddie didn’t ask again. She grabbed the birthday gift and almost fell as she scrambled out of the car, running toward me. Lincoln slammed her door and got into the driver’s seat. He backed up, wheels squealing, and drove alongside Lauren with his passenger window open, trying to persuade her to get back in while she walked in the street crying.

  Lucy went up to Maddie, her voice unsteady. “I was so scared there for a minute. I thought he was going to hit you.”

  I inhaled deeply, keeping an eye on Lincoln. “Yeah, he’s got a wicked temper, all right.”

  “Like my dad.”

  That made me think. “Did your dad ever . . .”

  “Hit me?” she asked. “No. Not me or my mom. Mostly he yells and stomps around kicking things. And then the next day it’s like it never happened.”

  Maddie’s shoulders slumped as she dropped her green-striped gift bag, letting it thunk on the ground. “I hate Lincoln. Now I can’t go to my party.”

  I put my hand on her shoulder. “Yeah, that stinks, Maddie. But I think you did the right thing. Lincoln needs to stick to the truth—​like I plan to do from now on.” I tossed Lucy a look, not knowing and, really, not even caring all that much if she believed me. I said it more for myself than anyone. Lying about all this stuff made my stomach hurt. I hated covering up who I was and what I stood for just to make someone else happy. Having it all out in the open now took a huge load off my mind. This must be how ex-cons felt once they were released from prison.

  Lucy put one foot forward, absent-mindedly making an arc with her toe. “Makes me nervous about what will happen when I get home. I told my parents I hated them before I left.”

  “Don’t worry.” I gave her a reassuring smile, dismissing her fears with a wave of my hand. “Lots of kids say that kind of stuff when they’re mad.”

  “Except I followed it with ‘And you both deserve to die—​just like the owl.’”

  I winced. “Ouch. Not good.” I continued toward the rehab center. “I’ve got to put Troy and Bella away and check on the other birds. But then I’m heading back out to look for Bullet and Flip.”

  Maddie’s eyes widened. “Oh my gosh. You don’t know?”

  “Know what?” A jolt of panic stabbed my heart. I dreaded what other bad news she was going to deliver.

  “After Hannah’s mom came to pick her up, I found Bullet hopping around behind the rehab center trying to catch a bug. I put on one of those gloves and took him back to his mews.”

  “You did?” I laughed, giving her a high-five. “Good job, Maddie. I’m proud of you.”

  She beamed. “Thanks.” She picked up the gift bag. “Well, I guess I’ll go play with Peanut. She always makes me feel better.”

  “Good idea,” I agreed. Lucy followed me into the rehab center, which was strewn with overturned tables, broken scales, open bottles of medicine littering the floor, and tons of HALT pamphlets. I watched for her reaction.

  “Oh my God! This is so horrible! I can’t believe they did this.” Lucy held a hand over her mouth as she stepped around Liberty’s scale. At least they hadn’t broken that. That sucker was expensive.

  “Me neither.” After putting Troy away, I hurried to check on Liberty. Lucy followed me, peering over my shoulder.

  The second I opened the door of Liberty’s mews, she kacked loudly at me several times. Noisy birds were ones on the mend. I closed the door behind me with a smile.

  “Want to see the rest of our residents?” I asked. When she agreed, I took he
r on the grand tour. I worried she might side with her parents. Instead, she bubbled over with questions.

  “What kind of bird is this?” Lucy peered through Rusty’s observation window.

  “That’s a kestrel, the smallest accipiter there is.” As we passed each mews, I told her about all our birds. Lucy said things like “Wow!” and “That’s so cool!” making me swell with pride. I purposely skipped Monocle’s mews, but Lucy looked inside anyway.

  “Oh no! Is that . . . ?” She turned to me, her watery eyes filled with such incredible sadness, it almost made me cry again.

  “Yep. That’s Monocle. Was Monocle,” I fought back tears as I moved on toward Flip’s mews.

  Her voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.” Lucy continued to stand at the window and stare, pulling the neckline of her sweatshirt up over her mouth as if to hide somehow.

  I couldn’t look again, didn’t want to talk about Monocle right now. “If you come over here, you can see where my bird, Flip, lives. Or lived. Depending if I find him or not.”

  “These cages are huge,” Lucy said, her forehead puckered in surprise. She peeked inside. “And they’re not chained up, just like you told Haley.”

  “Did you think I was lying?” I snapped, but realized I’d done my fair share of that.

  “Yeah, actually, I did.” Lucy shrugged, not looking away. “So I went on the HALT website yesterday to find out the truth about falconry, and they showed hawks shoved into tiny cages, like the one on the back of your ATV.”

  “We only use those cages for transport. It’s actually safer for the birds; they don’t get jostled around,” I explained. “I wonder what other false information HALT has on its website.”

  “I doubt everything’s false,” Lucy said wistfully. “They do a lot of crazy things, but they do some good things too.”

  “Perhaps.” Now it was my turn to shrug. “Speaking of tiny cages, I need to get Bella. She’s been in that carrier for two hours already.”