Disclaimer: Don't own Rio or anything about it. (Who do you think I am? The city's mayor?)
Life After Capture
Chapter 1: A Happy Life Does Not Last
My owner and I had a very good relationship.
It was simple, really. He helped me, and I helped him.
Oh, how I wished it would stay that way.
The beginning of our journey was simple enough. He would drive the car down to O'Hare in Chicago, we would get on a plane, and we would be off.
Off to a new Mardi Gras, one that I have never been to before.
Off to Carnival, way off in Brazil.
We would stay for a weekend, enjoying the sights, watching the parades, doing everything that tourists usually do. We would fly in on Thursday night, and fly out on the morning of Ash Wednesday.
It was supposed to be simple, fun, enjoyable.
A nice way to get away from the hell that are Wisconsin winters.
Ah, Wisconsin. How are you able to stay the way you are, with -43˚F winters, followed six months later by 103˚F summers. In the same location!
How the hell is that even possible? Temperatures shouldn't be able to fluctuate that much!
And don't get me started on the weather. To back up these days, two feet of snowfall and negative twenty degree wind chills in the winter, and no clouds in the sky summers, drying up any hope of salvation.
Isn't Wisconsin fun?
Even with all of this, I still like it up here. The nearby art museum looks outstanding, even if I am only able to see it from the outside, and I love it when Summerfest rolls around. So much music in one place makes me almost want to dance with happiness.
Oh, how I would love to not have a care in the world anymore, to have fun, to do what I want.
To have a blast.
To be myself.
To be loved.
To do whatever I can for whoever I find.
This, of course, is not possible for a domesticated Spix Macaw.
Oh, how life could be simple.
Oh, how life could go to hell.
Oh, how I wish nothing had happened.
Oh, how I wish.
It started off simple enough. We landed in Brazil, and I vowed to myself, for the umpteenth time, to never ride on a plane again.
Of course, that would never happen. After all, I had to get on a plane to head back to the USA.
Our first day was uneventful, but still fun. We went to the beach, got some sun, explored Rio, and went to the shops.
A bland first day, but we were safe, at the very least.
I had to be carried around in my cage, as that was the safest way for me to go around at all. After all, smuggling was still rampant within the city, and, with the rarity of the Spix Macaws, I would fetch a high price on the black market.
I did not want to get smuggled, and my owner didn't want that either.
We were in the crowd with everyone else when we got jostled away from it by two larger men.
My owner didn't seem very pleased with this, but went along anyways. I saw why soon.
One of the men spoke. "Open the cage."
After a few moments of shaking at the door, it opened from my owner's hand. I flew out before they could reach me.
Suddenly, a bullet ripped through my right wing. I squawked in pain before roughly landing on the ground.
I felt a strong hand reach around my neck and squeeze. Any struggling would've made the situation worse than it already was, so I went didn't. All that I could do was executed with a bullet through the back of his head.
My happy life was over. I realized that, and felt tears well up in my eyes.
This couldn't be happening, I told myself. I'll just wake up, back in Wisconsin, in my bird cage, and nothing will be wrong.
Nothing at all.
Nothing.
Not a single thing.
Not...
What's the point? Practically the only living creature that I could call a friend was killed in front of my eyes.
How could I live like this?
How could I live when there is no one else in the world with me?
How can I?
How will I?
I was roughly thrown into a cage that the men were carrying. I fell on top of someone else, someone that had already been smuggled.
I quickly got to my feet before running to the front of the cage. I tried to open the door, but it was no use. They had already locked it, and I didn't know how to open the door without the lock, anyways.
I collapsed to the floor. What could I do?
What did I do to deserve this?
I was broken, mind and spirit completely shattered.
I found no good way out of this, even with my expansive mind.
It didn't do what it normally does, trying to be happy to myself and everyone around.
It was in panic. It was in fear. It was primitive.
My mind wasn't working right.
Where did I go wrong?
All of these questions bounced around, finding no answer, being forever stuck inside my head for the next few hours.
"Hey, are you okay?" I heard somebody say. I started, forgetting that the other person was there, before that feeling getting replaced by anger.
Did I seem okay? Did I look like I was fine?
Of course I'm not okay! I'm fucking horrible right now!
I turned around on the spot, feeling the vein above my left eye bulging, ready to practically fight the idiot who decided to ask such a stupid question on a moment's notice...
...before that feeling was replaced by shock and disbelief at the animal I was staring at.
It was me. A little bit smaller, and a lighter shade of blue, but still me.
Another one of my kind. I thought we were, in all forms, extinct to the world.
Yet, there was another Spix Macaw, looking worse for wear, looking at me with a worried expression.
I tried to answer the question, but it got stuck in my throat. I never was a social butterfly, as the humans call it, and this situation just made it worse. After a few seconds, I finally got my answer out, but my voice was still shaky.
"N-n-no. I'm not v-v-v-very good right now."
I looked back at the door. All of the emotions were still there, swimming around my mind.
Anger, depression, worry, fear, and one other that I couldn't put my finger on.
A wing that wasn't mine was draped over my back, and I stiffened. The other macaw had come to my side and was trying to comfort me.
I relaxed a bit, and looked at the other macaw.
Female, I told myself. Feminine looks, especially with those eyes. Why did I not realize it with her voice?
I looked into her own eyes, and I saw emotions from her too.
She was scarred, she was worried.
She was sad, for what, I don't know.
But I saw another expression. Her eyes were saying, in a motherly fashion, that everything was going to be alright, that this wasn't the end.
And, then, I realized what the other expression from me was.
Hope.
Hope for me.
Hope for escape.
Hope to live a life outside of this.
Hope to be free.
We were brought to the smuggler's den. It was far out of the city, and we couldn't see the sky through the dense foliage. It was obvious that they thought along the lines of "out of sight, out of mind."
The door opened, and I saw some light pour in through the blanket that covered the cage.
Blossom, the other macaw, had remained as calm as possible as we passed through the portal and into, in all likelihood, hell. She was terrified of what we would find when the blanket was removed.
So was I, but I had faced worse.
...
...
What the hell am I talking about?
Of course this is the worst thing to ever happen to me! I could possibly die from this!
The blanket was removed and I saw the men that captured us.
They were large, easily six feet tall and over two-hundred pounds. All of those pounds were muscle, and I can see why my owner gave up easily.
One was obviously Brazilian, and the other was Caucasian. They spoke in a weird mix of Brazilian Portuguese and English.
Not that I could speak or understand Portuguese, I was just told that by Blossom.
The Brazilian seemed to be the mastermind, the brains of the whole operation. The Caucasian wasn't stupid, either, but was obviously not the main creator of the plot against us.
"I can't believe our luck!" the Caucasian, who I found has a Northeastern-American accent, said. "First, we find a wild one, then we find a fool carrying one around!"
My face contorts. How dare he call my used-to-be owner a fool?
"I can't believe it either," the Brazilian says. "But lets not be estupidos and leave the birds like this. You heard of the other Spix Macaws that found a way to get out from those three smugglers a year ago? They're still in jail. Let's not make the same mistake."
The Caucasian unlocked the door and opened it. Blossom could've flown away, but she was likely to be caught, and I had a bad wing, so we were trapped.
The man grabbed both of us by the neck, insuring that we couldn't use our beaks. The Brazilian then grabbed us by the talons, rendering them useless.
We were then exchanged so that each of them was holding one of us without the other's help.
I was first, I guess, as I was slammed against the table, nearly knocking me unconscious. With my wing flaring up in pain, and the possibility of a concussion, I didn't resist as the Brazilian wrapped me up in...something.
After a few minutes, I was placed back in the cage, and I heard another slam, which must've been Blossom. I flinched when I heard hers, not being able to when it was me that got slammed.
I looked at myself and noticed the jacket-like thing that I had on. I tried opening my wings, but they wouldn't budge.
Great. Jackets to keep us from flying away.
Not that I could fly, anyways. Blossom was another story, but I could tell that the feeling was mutual between us.
We were getting out of here with the other one alive, as well.
No matter what we had to do.
Blossom was put into the cage with me, before a chain that clasped tightly over our legs was added to my right leg and her left.
If they were going to do anything with us, we would be a pair.
We couldn't leave without the other one, now, even if we tried.
The lock was put back onto the cage, and we were put on the floor of a small back room.
No other birds were back here, and it was the only other door that I saw other than the entrance that this shack had.
They must have many of these, I realized, and each one is separate from the others, to keep them from being fined too highly if they were ever found.
And, if one is found, they wouldn't lose everything.
The two of them left with a friendly banter between them.
"So, what do you want to watch tonight?" the Caucasian asked. "After all, it is Packers versus Giants tonight!"
I could hear the Brazilian grimace. "You know that I find that bobos sport you call 'football' stupid," he said. "You don't use your foot almost anywhere, and it is nothing like futebol."
The Caucasian laughed. "I'm joking! Relax! Besides, I heard that tonight's game is between Flamengo at Cruzeiro."
"That game's going to be diversão and ação-embalados" The Brazilian said, and the two talked their way out of the shack, turning the lights off in the process.
We were alone, in a cage, with no food and water, chained together, and, even if we did get out, we would be unable to fly.
"Welp," I said, making Blossom look at me. "Time to get to work."
I almost got it.
Almost there.
Come on...
"Shit!" I exclaimed as the pegs inside the lock reverted to their original positions.
It's been two hours, and I haven't had any luck with this lock. I never have tried lock-picking before, but, hey, their's a first time for everything.
Blossom was exhausted, and I was reaching that point, too, but, with how close I got, my body was filled with adrenaline.
Blossom and I had got to know each other a bit more, asking about each other's lives, and everything else that came to light.
Blossom was from the wild, as I had heard from the Caucasian before, and was living in solitude. She was exploring the outskirts of the city this afternoon when she got caught.
I told her my life story as a domesticated bird as she told hers. We were both fascinated by each other's stories.
"Need any help, Roy?" Blossom asked.
Yup, my name is Roy.
And I like it.
...What the hell, brain? I don't talk like that normally!
"No, no, I've almost got it," I said, tiredly.
I really did. One or two more tries, and I would have this door open in no time.
After a few more minutes, I nearly shouted triumphantly as the lock unlocked itself. A few minutes later, the door of the cage was open.
We were free...
...for the most part. Now, we had to get out of this god-forsaken shack.
I looked around for an opening and found one in the nearby window.
It had wrought-iron bars on it, as if this had been a prison. I shuddered.
I climbed up onto the top of the cage and looked for any way up to it.
I found it in the nearby wooden-metal frame that this shack had, with the wood holding the metal as an internal frame.
A poorly constructed internal frame that was seen in all parts of the shack.
And a convenient escape route for us.
I began to climb up the frame, jumping from horizontal piece of wood to another, occasionally using a large splinter or a nail that wasn't nailed far enough in to get up higher.
And through this all, I was dragging Blossom up behind me. My bird cage made me do these things before I figured out how to fly (thank you, internet), but Blossom was born in the wild, and, without her wings, she couldn't navigate very well.
When I finally got up to the top, I looked down and saw Blossom dangling a foot below me. I looked at the wrought-iron bars and began to walk around one in a circle, the chain rising up as I continued, before Blossom got to the sill. When that happened, I began to unwind the couple of times I had to go around the bar.
When we were ready to go, I looked for a way down from the outside. I saw our chance with a vine that climbed up the side of the shack.
I made Blossom go first, as I would be able to catch her with my chain if she did fall, as she wasn't used to this climbing thing yet.
After about fifteen minutes, give or take, I reached the bottom, and Blossom was waiting for me.
I realized how much we stuck out in the wild. We were two birds, chained together, walking on the ground, wearing white jackets that kept us from flying.
We were completely screwed if we didn't find some safe haven for the both of us.
We began to walk away from the shack, hoping that nothing bad would happen to us on this horrible night.
About a half-hour later, Blossom asked me a question:
"What was your owner like?"
I froze, then began to ponder. I was in the lead, and Blossom stopped behind me as I thought.
Two minutes later, I found my answer.
"He was worth the whole damn lot of them."
We trekked on silently through the night, not knowing what would come next.
