|The Bluebird And The Glorystone (standard:fantasy, 1889 words)|
|Author: Alpha43||Added: Apr 11 2005||Views/Reads: 1744/1056||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Things have not been going well for a handicaped little girl until she tries to help an injured Bluebird.|
The Bluebird And The Glorystone “God has a glorious plan.” “We all have a burden to bare.” “We must not question, he will show us the way.” “Blessings come to the believers.” Becky accepted these teachings, but lately, life seems to be heavy on the burdens, and not much in the blessing department. Mother seems to be slipping, despite her weekly treatments and visits from the Priest, dad spends long days looking for work, and now Becky’s simplest pleasures are tainted with sorrowful events. Becky was sitting on the bench, a tear running down her cheek, ever so gently holding the baby bluebird. There was a stiff, damp breeze, the sky was dreary with heavy cloud cover, and it was very cool. All the residents of the park must have sensed the sadness in Becky’s heart, because it was morbidly quiet. Becky could feel the little chick hopping around in her loose grip, with it’s left wing stuck out straight, seemingly locked in that unnatural position. The girl felt so bad. The infant bluebird was trembling; scared, cold, and probably in a state of shock. Becky had been on her way to watch the kids play Jacks and Hopscotch by the tennis courts, when she spotted the little creature hopping near a park bench in the garden trail rest area. It was scampering frantically, but falling on its left side every few hops. The bird’s left wing was injured or deformed, its oversize beak was wide open, and its eyes were bulging with fear. Becky had some trouble getting down to retrieve the baby bird, laying her aluminum crutches on the bench, and adjusting her knee braces so they would flex enough for her to kneel and retrieve the panicked bird. The sadness she felt for the injured bluebird was compounded by the fact that she had no idea what to do with the animal. But at least she could protect the infant from the cats and the other predators that frequented the park. She carefully tucked her skirt around the chick to contain him while she straightened and locked her knee braces back into place. She was sure someone would pass by that could help her, or give advice on what to do with the helpless bluebird. She just hoped they would arrive before the ever darkening early spring clouds let loose with icy rain, sleet, or a snowstorm. The low clouds were moving much faster now, the treetops were starting to sway and bend in a very cold breeze. Becky had used her crutches as a prop to get to her feet, when she thought she heard a noise. Nobody was coming down the trail in either direction, and there was nothing but lilac bushes behind her. Glancing around, Becky let out a high pitched yelp as she spotted a very young boy sitting on the only other bench at this rest area. She was sure that the lad had not been there a moment ago, but there he was, deep in thought, admiring something in his hands. “Excuse me, could I get your assistance please?” Becky politely asked. “I wonder if you could help me with a baby bluebird that appears to be injured.” The lad slowly raised his head and gave Becky a comforting smile. “I don’t knows much bout no sick birds, I just passing through.” The boy was only about six years old and his face was almost as dirty as his clothes. He had shiny ebony skin, like Jamaican people can have, his litter-strewn and matted hair was almost three inches thick. His T-shirt may have been white at one time, he wore soiled bib overalls, and he had no socks or shoes. The lad was quietly caressing what appeared to be a stone. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was hoping you lived around here or you might know someone that could help mend or shelter this poor creature. I suppose I could take the bird home and see if my folks could get it to a veterinarian.” “I do not want to be rude, but you look like you could use some sheltering also. Are you staying in the area? If you care to follow me, we could get some lunch and my mother could probably come up with something to cover your feet.” Click here to read the rest of this story (130 more lines)
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