Thanks for all your post and comments, make me feel happy that yu liked this fic that is just an attempt to try to imagine how the past of the birds could be...

That afternoon, Barbara walked into the living room with a tray with glasses and water. She noticed Helena was playing with her pencil absentmindedly. She was sitting on the floor with her legs crossed and her arms on the living room table.

The redhead looked at her again... that look. That familiar look that she had seen before. She shook her head, she was dreaming.

"Something is worrying you, Helena?" She sat on the floor next to Helena.

"Barbara, what's your dad like?" She looked at her.

"Well, he is nice, gentle; very smart. He likes to work."

"And your mom?"

"I don't have a mom." Barbara smiled.

"You don't have a mom?" The child raised her head.

"No, I lost my mother in an automobile accident when I was a preschooler," Barbara rested her back on the couch "I... I almost don't remember her, I was very small."

"Don't remember her?"

"No, I just know her from pictures, she was a very beautiful woman." She pointed to a picture on her mantle. "That is my mom."

"May I see her?"

"Sure."

Helena went to the portrait and took it between her hands. It was a couple smiling and a baby between them. "This is you?" she asked her.

"Yes."

Helena sat next to Barbara again. "You were cute."

"I am cute," the red head said.

"And who is he?"

"That is my dad."

"Your dad?" Helena raised her brow. "He is not your dad. He looks different."

Barbara took a deep breath and took the portrait in her hands. "He is my dad, after mom died, I slowly lost him; the grief took him to alcoholism."

"He died?"

"Yes, he died. It was too much for him to lose my mother." The red head moved her finger over the face of her mother in the picture. "It was not nice living with him after that. The alcohol made him angry and violent. He spent almost all day behind a bottle. I remember escaping to go see my friend Marcy to avoid thinking about him."

Helena couldn't believe what she was hearing. She rested her head on Barbara's shoulder and looked at the picture again.

"It's ironic." Barbara mumbled, remembering. "Mom was killed by an alcoholic and my dad died because of the alcohol. I hate alcohol."

"Who is he?" Helena asked, referring to Gordon.

"I was fourteen and I couldn't live alone, so I had to move from Ohio and come here to live with my Uncle James and Aunt Barbara. He is my uncle, but I he's like a father to me." Barbara's mind moved back to those sad years of her childhood.

Silence filled the place. Helena thought about her mother and about how many times she had asked her about her father; maybe not too much. She gave her everything; but sometimes she was curious to know and especially since many of her friends talked about them.

"Mom never wants to talk about dad," Helena whispered, suddenly.

"Mm?" Barbara moved her arm and put it around Helena's shoulder.

"She never wants to talk about him. Do you know him?"

"Your dad?" Barbara looked down at her.

The kid nodded; she had her gaze lost in the portrait.

"No, she has never told me, and, well... I don't want to ask. It's something that she alone must tell me. I respect her reasons."

"Mom is blonde," Helena noted. "I'm brunette, he must be a dark haired man."

Barbara moved her close and hugged her with both arms.

"She doesn't want to tell me," Helena continued, "she just told me she wanted an angel from the sky to be her daughter and that I'm here."

"That is sweet."

"Barbara, babies don't come down from the sky." Helena rolled her eyes. "Come on!"

"I know," Barbara hit her head playfully, "but she is telling you that the thing that she most deserved in life was you."

"I know... but... at least you have a picture of them." Helena sighed. "I don't have any idea what he looks like. I can't ever talk about him because I don't know anything about him."

"If she doesn't want to tell you, it must be for a very important reason. I'm sure that when you are old enough, she will tell you. Trust her."

"I guess so."

"Well, your mom has dates with very handsome men, I'm sure he is very handsome, for that reason you are so beautiful." She kissed her forehead.

"Yes, I'm beautiful." Helena nodded.

Barbara laughed. "The most important is that you have her with you and that she loves you so much; you can touch her, say her that you love her... I can't, I would wish could hug my mom once, but I can't."

"I'm sorry." Helena looked up to her.

"Sorry?"

"About your mom and dad."

"Don't worry, Helena, that was a long time ago."

"I wouldn't like to lose my mom."

"No one likes to lose their parents."

"Yes," the child said.

"Well, time's up." Barbara smiled. "Could we continue our class?"

"Okay."

"Put this picture back in its place." She gave the kid the picture frame.

Helena took it and went to the mantle.

Barbara put over the table a scrabble game.

"A game?" the child asked when she saw it.

"Playing games can help develop skills at being a team player," Barbara explained, putting a scrabble game on the table. "They can build arithmetic and problem solving abilities, and improve reading skills; games are also a good source of family entertainment."

"Using scrabble?" Helena looked at her.

"Put the letter tiles in the bag and mix them up."

Helena obeyed and shook her head. "My mom sent me here to study, not to play scrabble."

"I made a mistake with you," the red head said, opening the game board.

"A mistake?" Helena shook the bag.

"Yes I was teaching you as if you were a high school student and that was a mistake. Now take seven tiles and place them on your rack." Barbara took a rack for herself. "All words are permitted with the exception of the following: words that are always capitalized, abbreviations, prefixes and suffixes standing alone, words requiring a hyphen or an apostrophe, but, if you use an adverb, I'll give you ten points more. The one that wins the game gets a free pizza with extra cheese for herself."

Helena opened wide her eyes. "A pizza just for me?"

"Yes, but only if you win, and maybe I can win, because if I use and adverb, I also get ten points more."

"Why?"

"I want you to try to think of and use adverbs," the red head explained, "and this is the only way to do it. Tempting you with food."

Helena glared at her. "Not funny."

"But it's a reality."

"You are cheating," Helena protested. "What's an adverb?"

"An adverb is a word that modifies verbs, adjectives or other adverbs. For example: He is working quickly; he is working carefully; he is working hard; he is working hurriedly. Quickly, carefully, hard, fast, hurriedly" are all adverbs."

"I'm learning slowly."

"That's an adverb, too," she said looking at her letter tiles. "Most adverbs have -ly at the end: newnewly; happyhappily; quickquickly."

"I'm a goody-- is that an adverb?" The child scratched her head.

"No, that is a mistake. Don't invent words, think."

Helena looked at her game and moved some pieces on her rack. She raised her eyes and looked at Barbara. "Slowly?"

"Right... so you have... twenty three points plus ten, because it's an adverb.. so you get thirty three points."

"Great!!" The child clapped.

"Recently." Barbara moved her word onto the board "This is 39 plus 10 because it's an adverb too... so forty nine for me."

"That is cheating!" Helena kneeled on the floor.

"No," Barbara smiled. "Listen: Frank worked more yesterday, it tells us WHEN; They work well together, it tells us HOW; Steve works here, it tells us WHERE. Those are adverbs too; pay attention to that and you will have an adverb."

"You never told me that."

"I'm, telling you now. Think what words you can form."

"Maybe?" the child asked.

"No, adverbs give information about the time, place, and manner of the action."

"Next!!" Helena smiled and took her pieces.

"Next... no!!"

"Yes!! It's an adverb!."

"Next is not an adverb!" Barbara rolled her eyes.

"Next week, next Monday, it answers the "When"" Helena smirked. This time she had been smart.

"Very funny, Miss Know-it-all. But we need the complete phrase. That's and adverbial phrase, not adverb. In other words, those words work together to function as an adverb."

"But I just have "next"."

"Find another one."

"Next was good." Helena said.

"Forget it. Adverbs can be used to compare actions: Frank works more quickly than Steve, Steve works more carefully than Frank."

The kid looked at her pieces in silence and thought what to do; but the game was hard. "I don't have a word."

"Think carefully, Helena." Barbara told her. "Adverbs can be used to modify adjectives too: Paul is a very good worker, Sandy is frequently busy."

"Oh, I understand." The kid bit her lip and looked at the red head "But I don't have words here."

"Okay. Let's try something else. Adverbs can be used to join two clauses together: Paul went to the store, then he went to the post office; I should have studied; instead, I went to a movie."

Helena looked again her game "I have "then"," she said.

"Okay, do it."

The child put her word down and took more pieces.

"Well done, you are getting it. Remember some adverbs are irregular: Fastfast; goodwell; earlyearly. Twenty six points plus ten are thirty six."

"I have "early"."

"Okay, so wait your turn, it's mine now."

"Good." Helena excitedly looked at the board.

Barbara smiled, she finally had her complete attention.

"Barbara, may I ask you a question?" The child played with her rack.

Barbara moved her eyeglasses down and glared ather. "No questions out of topic."

"We are studying grammar... but what is grammar? It's like, so lame."

"The Hint Academy says that English grammar is an "art". The art of speaking and writing the English language in a correct way. If English grammar is taught, it improves the way people speak and communicate; and there will exist more words than slang terms."

"You're the bomb." Helena giggled.

"Yes, that." Barbara pointed at her with her pencil.

"All that and a bag a chips."

"Word." Barbara smiled.

"You are my homey," the kid said.

"And you are my headache."

"That is not slang."

"But it's reality." The red head raised her brow.

"Barbara?"

The red head a male voice at her back. She turned her head. "Dad?" She removed her glasses. What was he doing there?

The old man glared at the child who was seated next to her daughter. He couldn't hide his anger.

"What are you doing here?" She stood up, surprised. She hadn't heard him.

"What is she doing here?" he asked with cold voice, looking at Helena.

Barbara stood up. "I'm helping her in English."

Helena looked the red head and frowned.

He shook his head. "I though you understood."

"Understood?"

"We talked about this a few nights ago," he said, exasperated.

"Barbara?" Helena was confused and scared.

"Shut up, you!" he yelled at the child.

"Don't shout at her!" Barbara said angrily.

"I don't want to see you near my daughter!" he pointed at Helena and walked toward her.

Helena looked at Barbara, frightened.