WARNING: THIS STORY IS UNBETA'D AND UNSPELLCHECKED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!
THE CUCKOO'S EGG
by Galen Hardesty
Chapter Four
CHEEPING PITEOUSLY
~*~
As Daria and Jane headed for Creative Writing class next day, they could see Mr. O'Neill standing by his classroom door. As they entered, he greeted them. "Hello, Linda, Doreen. How are you coming with your writing assignments?"
Jane replied, pointing to herself, "Me Jane. I have an idea, about a spider who's trying to weave the most beautiful web ever. But I can't figure how she'd keep bugs out of it."
"Interesting, Jane. Very creative. Keep at it! How about you, Doreen?"
Daria didn't even bother. "Mine's about a little baby songbird in a nest."
"Uh, yes, Doreen, I know. That's what I assigned you. How far along are you?"
"I'm finished."
"Really? So quickly? I guess I shouldn't be surprised, since it's you, but I am impressed."
"Well, I didn't have to spend a lot of time groping for an idea."
Was there a hint of reproach in Doreen's voice, O'Neill wondered? No, just her usual semi-monotone delivery. If there were any hidden meanings in her words, they were hidden well. "So, does it have a happy ending?" he asked.
Daria's look remained unreadable. "I wouldn't want to give it all away, but I'll quote you the last line if you like."
O'Neill smiled. "Yes, Darlene, I'd like that."
"Okay. It goes 'I turn, spread my tiny wings, and fly free.'" Daria walked past him into the classroom, followed by Jane, smirking and shaking her head minutely, and they took their seats. Smiling, Mr. O'Neill turned back to watch for his other students.
Timothy O'Neill closed the book and looked up at the clock. "Well, we seem to have some time before the bell. Darla, would you read your Animal POV story for us, please?"
Jane controlled her anticipatory smirk and turned to a fresh page in her notebook. Jodie shifted to a posture that looked thoughtful and attentive and allowed her to cover her mouth. Charles Ruttheimer, grinning, slipped a microcassette recorder out of his backpack and switched it on.
Daria rose and came to stand by O'Neill's desk. I wonder if you'll remember me any better after I read this, she mused. She began to read, placing a slight emphasis on her first name and glancing sideways at O'Neill.
"The Cuckoo's Egg, by Daria Morgendorffer."
"I awake. It is warm and dark. I am surrounded by softness and reassured by the beating of my mother's heart. All is well. I close my eyes and drift back toward sleep."
For a second, O'Neill's face had shown a trace of what might have been dismay, but Daria didn't know whether that was from realizing he'd been messing up her name again, or from the slightly ominous title. His usual determinedly optimistic smile had returned as she'd begun reading the text.
"Mother is stirring. I awake again, and from underneath Mother's wings and breast, I see glimpses of the nest, and of the mysterious world beyond. The world looks green and… leafy. I feel an urge to go out there somehow, and explore, but I feel a stronger urge to eat some caterpillars and go to sleep again."
Brittany, chin resting on her interwoven fingers, was giving Daria her whole attention. Kevin also seemed enthralled. Perhaps he was hoping that Ratboy might make a guest appearance, Daria thought wryly. Or maybe he just liked having stuff read to him.
"A shadow falls over me and my sibling, and the remaining eggs of our clutch. We open our mouths wide and cheep eagerly, but the large bird that lands on the rim of the nest is not one of our parents. The large bird regards us with a cold eye. It brings up no caterpillars, but settles heavily into the nest, crushing us beneath it. After wallowing roughly back and forth, and a long time of relative stillness when I am barely able to breathe, the large bird rises and takes flight. I pick myself up off the floor of the nest, cheeping in pain, and see a large speckled egg that wasn't there before, an egg much larger than the others."
Jodie's eyes widened, and she slipped a hand over her mouth to cover a grin. A few seconds later, Jane's expression showed that she had also gotten it.
"Father lands on the rim of the nest, a bug clamped in his beak. I chirp and flap my stubby wings, but my heart in not in it. The bug looks hard and spiky. Father gazes at us for a few seconds, then stuffs the bug into the gaping beak of my smaller sibling, who struggles to choke the leggy thing down.
Father now heaves and gags and regurgitates the remains of a large green, yellow, abd black striped caterpillar, oozing green caterpillar guts and covered with gastric juices and saliva. Aah, that's more like it! I stretch out my pinfeathery neck as far as it will go, open my beak to its limit, and cheep enthusiastically. Father cocks an eye at the other chicks, then stuffs the dripping caterpillar down my throat. Then he lingers to sing his song of challenge, warning the world of dire consequences if any dare trespass on his territory, as I strain to swallow the slimy, still feebly squirming gutbuster. Ah, life is good. Or it would be, if someone could free me from the hordes of lice and mites that are constantly biting me and sucking my blood."
Daria paused briefly to savor the chorus of eewwws and bleaahs from her classmates, and the expression on Mr. O'Neill's face. "Better enjoy it while you can, Timmy," she thought. "That's as good as it gets. From your POV, anyway." As she continued reading toward the denoument of her story, she reflected that the old saying, "Be careful what you ask for, you might get it," would henceforth have a richer, fuller meaning for him.
"The egg in the center of the nest, the very large one, is hatching. From it emerges an ugly, brutish thing. It looks… wrong, somehow. Not like my other brothers and sisters. And even though I am the oldest, eight full days old, this grim hatchling is larger than I am."
Jane smirked and began to sketch O'Neill as a chubby caterpillar menaced by a pugnacious-looking baby bird bristling with pinfeathers. Brittany, Kevin, and the boy behind him with his ear chained to his nose listened raptly.
"But, far from throwing the interloper out, my parents seem mesmerized by it. They compete to feed it the choicest grubs. They seem not to see it brutally pecking at me and my legitimate siblings. It cheeps louder, opens its beak wider, postures more dramatically, and stretches upward farther than we can hope to. It is a master of 'cute, hungry baby bird.' I cannot compete, and so I go hungry while the monster gorges and grows."
Brittany dabbed at her eyes with a blue and yellow hankie. Kevin blinked rapidly and quickly wiped something from his cheek.
I cry out my hunger, my need, but the Cuckoo chick gets the worm yet again. The Cuckoo chick has it all, therefore the Cuckoo chick gets it all. Is there no hope for me, then? I can see none.
Jane was leaning far back in her desk, eyes squeezed shut, one hand clamped over her mouth and the other on her stomach, jiggling with smothered laughter.
"The last egg has hatched. Mother gently helped it emerge, then carried the shell away to dispose of it far from the nest. As soon as she had gone, the Cuckoo chick shoved the helpless hatchling over the side. I looked down to see a dark form appear, pick up my doomed sibling in its mouth, cheeping piteously, and slink away. By the time Mother returned, no trace remained."
Daria noted that Upchuck was shaking with suppressed mirth and grinning gleefully. Andrea, smirking wickedly, was dividing her time between watching Mr. O'Neill and her fellow students, and sketching in her notebook.
"...And now in the end, I alone remain, I and the gigantic Cuckoo chick. Weak and hungry, my growth stunted, I am driven to the very edge of the nest. Not yet fully fledged, I know my premature first flight will be my last. One more good push will do it. But here at the last, the monster has slacked its shoving. It towers over me, just looking, with that eternally hungry gleam in its eye, and it almost seems that there is a smirk on its beak. Then the awful truth dawns upon me. The Cuckoo chick has outgrown my parents' ability to satisfy its ravenous hunger. It intends to eat me, and my parents, off desperately gathering food, cannot stop it. Nor can I. No, wait. Yes, I can. At last, I know what I must do. I turn, spread my tiny wings, and fly free."
Daria lowered her papers and looked up. Jodie Landon was grinning fiercely and pinching her nose to keep from laughing out loud. Mack was hiding his face behind Jodie. They needn't have bothered. Mr. O'Neill, head down on one arm, sobbing, pointed to the door with the other hand, which held a hall pass.
Daria approached his desk. "Mrs. Manson?" she asked. Mr. O'Neill sobbed louder and nodded. Daria took the hall pass, picked up her book bag, pumped her fist in the air, and exited to a round of cheers and applause.