A FRIEND IN NEED

CHAPTER ONE: A BIRD IN TURMOIL

Margalo the canary looked at her friend Stuart Little the mouse. He was a friend of hers, indeed, truth be told, her only friend, and he was in danger. Her guardian, more a control freak than a true parent, Falcon, who had taken her in when she was in a bad spot, but had long since taken advantage of her, making her steal for him and hinting, every now and then, when she expressed a desire to leave him, that songbirds like her were part of the main diet of a peregrine falcon and that if she didn't want to help him anymore, she could always serve as a snack. He had suggested that she fake breaking her wing and go with the mouse Stuart Little to his house. When he and his family were off their guards, she was to steal items from them for him.

However, something different had happened here, something that hadn't happened before. Usually the people would just try and help her and then send her off, but this family had taken her in, had actually shown care for her. And they didn't have a lot either to take. It wasn't like one of those houses that had so many items that they probably wouldn't even notice if a few items went missing. Indeed, the only item she had found of value was Mrs. Little's wedding ring, and it was only two karats. Surely it wasn't right to take a wedding ring from a family that had so little. But, when she had hinted this to Falcon, he told her stay anyway.

She had been going over and over in her mind of what to do. Elanor often wore the ring, but every now and then, she took it off. But Margalo had never been present and near enough when she'd taken it off and had her back turned. And, truth be told, she really didn't have the heart to take it. She was starting to develop a crush for the mouse Stuart Little. He was so sweet. And here she was, scheming to steal perhaps the family's only treasure, while using his trust against him. She wanted to be a friend anyway, but one couldn't exactly be friendly by lying to, conning, and stealing from one that she wanted to be friends with, now could she?

But it had all come to a head. Falcon head seen that she liked Stuart and laid down the ultimatum: get me the ring or I eat your new friend. Margalo had seen Falcon eat prey. A poor squirrel who lost had his tail ripped off, while still alive, and Falcon slowly ripping parts off here and there with his beak until finally the poor creature was put out of her misery when Falcon finally yanked off a vital organ. A rabbit dropped from a window eight-feet off the ground, breaking two of his legs. These, Falcon had offered to "help relieve" the pain in, but instead he'd just "relieved" the rabbit of them altogether. The rabbit had bawled for two minutes before Falcon, tired of the shrieking, had finally bitten off his head And instances like these were just animals Falcon had killed solely for food. She knew that, if he came for Stuart, the mouse was likely to be "lunch" by having his toes, fingers, feet, hands, and finally tail bitten off (in that order too), and then be swallowed whole at the very end. A truly terrible way to die. And even a chest full of 18-karat rings would be worth less than his life and worth parting with if it meant saving the life of Stuart Little, so a mere 2-karat ring should seem like nothing for her to take in exchange for his life.

It wasn't that she wasn't interested in Stuart's life, she was. In fact, she felt that, she cared for him so much, that if she saw Falcon diving at him to impale him, she'd fly in the way if that's what it took for him to survive. It was that she didn't want to steal from the mouse or his family at all. But, alas, Falcon was not a patient bird. She knew that, come tomorrow morning, if the ring wasn't in his possession, he'd see to it that he captured Stuart, pinned her down, and made her watch his slow death as the very worst form of "attitude adjustment". His "attitude adjustments" included locking her in old paint cans he'd found, where she was trapped, many times with no food, water, or a decent place to relieve herself, for a few days. Of course, if it was only her being punished for inaction, she'd gladly take as long as she could survive of that without food, water, or decent sanitation, if it would mean protecting Stuart. But she knew that, even if she offered to be eaten by him instead and let the mouse go, that Falcon would still go and kill Stuart (though he might well oblige her on killing her second after that.)

Her gizzard ached with pain from the stress. "Mrs. Little, I need to use the toilet. I have to peeoop," she said to Elanor. Birds had a cloaca, a multi-purpose hole for releasing feces, urates (birds produced urates instead of urine), as well as, when she was older, eggs. She had explained the term to the Littles when they'd first met, as they had asked what it meant when she first used it, but now they knew.
"Of course Margalo. Go ahead."
Margalo flew into the bathroom and did relieve herself, for she did mildly have to go anyway. But then she just teetered back and forth on the counter by the bathroom sink, thinking of what to do. She was too afraid to tell Elanor or Fredrick. They might turn her out of the house without letting her explain the whole story, or, even worse, hand her over to the police (and Falcon would still kill Stuart, even if he knew she was in jail and had failed at the job.) If she told Snowbell, who had initially suspected her of being a vagrant or a thief, he'd probably just eat her. She didn't think George would take kindly either to a strange bird befriending Stuart and tugging at his heartstrings only to plan to steal from the family. So, that left her with only two options left: steal the ring (and know she couldn't come back) or tell Stuart and pray that he didn't hate her for using him. She sat there rocking for at least twelve minutes.
"Margalo, are you ok in there?" Mr. Little called from the other side of the door.
"Yes, I think I'll be fine. I just had a mess, you don't want to see it. Very bad combination of diarrhea and polyurea. But it's over now," she lied. She was a convincing liar.. She had to be to become a good thief and con artist.
"That's good to hear. Just turn on the bathroom fan before you leave the bathroom."
"I will."

After Margalo left the bathroom, she said "Ok, that felt better to get all of that out. But now I need a rest. I'm still feeling a bit under the weather. Can I rest downstairs, please?"
"Normally you've been sleeping on the main floor," Elanor said.
"I know. It's just that, I have a bad sinus headache too. Light bothering me. Downstairs is darker, and quieter too."
"You seem to be having a tough day. Diarrhea, polyurea, and a sinus headache. Should we call a doctor for you?"
"Oh, I wouldn't have the money to pay for that."
"We'd pay for that. Don't worry."
"But I'm not a family member, I'm just, a stranger."
"We'd help any stranger in need," Fredrick said.
"Plus, you're not just any stranger, you're Stuart's best friend. Stuart may have human friends, but we can tell that you're different. He really likes you. We've been hoping he'd find a peer he could relate to and then, like a blessing from heaven, you come into our lives," Elanor said.
Margalo really felt terrible now. They thought she had come as a blessing, but her coming had only, so far, been a curse. A lying thief in their midst and, now, a danger to Stuart's life. "I'm glad that I could be his friend. I too haven't really had any peers of my own."
"We don't like to pry, but where have you been living?" Elanor asked.
"At that homeless shelter, by the Pishkin Building."
"Homeless? Oh dear! You shouldn't be homeless! You can live here from now on!" Fredrick said.
"Oh, I really couldn't do anything to earn my keep. I'm just a little bird."
"Nonsense. You're family now, Margalo," Elanor said.

"Well, I'd better go deal with that headache. My head is pounding like a drum."
"Get some rest, Margalo. We'll call you when dinner is ready," Elanor said.
"Thank you."
The canary moved toward the basement door. While it would be hard for her to open it, she could, she believed, by bending low enough, fit underneath it. She, thankfully, saw Stuart nearby, so she wouldn't have to come up with some excuses as to why she couldn't go downstairs yet. She subtly tapped him on the shoulder with a talon. "Hi Margalo, what is it?"
She put a wing to her beak, signaling for him to be quiet. He nodded. "This way. Down here," she whispered. The two squeezed underneath the basement door. After reaching the bottom of the stairs, Margalo saw George's model village. "Nice place you've got here," she said, admiring it. "George made it."
"Come up here. In here." Margalo took him to a model house that was big enough to fit both of them comfortably inside. It was, she hoped, good enough, especially with the distance of the stairs between them and the other residents of the house, to keep them from being overheard. She waited till they were inside before speaking. "I need to talk to you. It's urgent!"
"Margalo, you look like you've experienced something dreadful!" Stuart said, noticing the fear on her face.
"Stuart, it's a literal matter of life-or-death here!"