Caged: Reclamation

Chapter 18

Todd stood in the tower room, a small bag next to him partially filled with items for Abram. He also had an extra pair of jeans in there, an American brand the sisters excitedly presented to him, a couple of plain black tee-shirts, American-style boxer shorts, an ivory-colored guayabera with intricate embroidery from Raquel, a light jacket from Anna to keep him warm like the wine kept him warm, socks to go with the sneakers he now wore, and a Bible that was inscribed by Beatrice which said, "Believe, Angel."

The little gifts brought tears to his eyes since no monster deserved such love. He said goodbyes at dinner, hugs all around, lingering looks at Beatrice and Raquel and Maria and Anna, Abram getting lots of affection and hugs and treats.

Raquel whispered, "Find him," and he swore he would.

He chose to leave close to midnight, wanting to get into that taxi alone. He couldn't bear saying goodbye anymore. Wanted simply to pretend it was just another Havana night and he'd be returning to the sisters when the party ended.

But mostly he chose the midnight hour because he needed to hear the songbird and her sorrowful song one more time. She was the first thing he'd awakened to in that room and he wanted her to be the last thing he saw before leaving what he believed was most likely forever. He sat in the wheelchair throne and watched her sing, her chest puffed, tiny beak pointed towards the night sky, tiny claws gripping the bamboo perch. The words to her dirge he had imagined early on had long disappeared, a language he no longer understood. But her tune still broke his heart. He figured the words were somewhere inside of him… and maybe one day he'd remember them.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know they are beautiful. Fuckin' poetry."

One of the questions he did recall ruminating over while in his half-awake state was if the little yellow songbird could live outside the cage. He called her a canary and for the life of him he couldn't remember ever seeing canaries in the wild. Maybe she was doomed to live in sorrow the rest of her days.

Caged.

When Jedediah arrived though and they started taking daily walks to the winery that soon turned into explorations of the jungle around the convent, Todd saw birds just like the little canary. They lived in very specific yellow-green shrubbery, a kind of bush that grew in the thickest part of the jungle only and hugged the palm trees and banana trees, bushes protected from the elements by the tall, bendable trees. He saw the yellow fluffs zipping from bush to bush, saw quickly that their yellow feathers allowed them to hide in plain sight, camouflaged.

Todd first noticed them by their song, totally recognizing the daytime notes his canary sang. He'd stopped cold at the sound and Jed asked, What's wrong, Pops? Todd didn't answer and followed the notes he was sure he had heard in his tower room. And when he wound his way deeper into the trees, he was right: the tunes were identical. From behind a palm, he caught them mid-flight, hopping, hopping, dancing on the branches. He watched them for a long while, Jed staying a distance away, tears burning, his heart positively breaking. Someone from the convent must have caught the little thing and caged her. Could have been because she was hurt. He'd seen her fly though, a little, in that cage. Made him think…

You lost your way, didn't you? And in that, you lost your love. Someone rescued you. Saved you. Until you were better, could more easily find the path home.

He reached over and unlocked the cage door. Watched the bird hop from perch to perch, her song still going, the midnight poem she sang every night.

"Go," he said softly, "go on. They're just past those trees, you can't miss them. They're singing your song. I think your love is there."

The little songbird got to the edge, where the door lay open, the window beyond the cage… open.

"Go," he said. "Go home."

The night sky lit the jungle, moonlight, starlight. Life buzzed in the distant dark and sighed and fluttered and cawed. And without much fanfare, without a look back, the songbird took a step and flew into that love-awaiting night.

To be continued...