Dominican College of San Rafael - Firebrand Yearbook (San Rafael, CA)

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May. It happened. I walked through the doorway. Started toward the cage. And then I saw what I had known I would finally see. The perch was empty. I refused to look at his floor. I just couldn't. I gave myself up to panic. I was scared, but I knew. I ran for my brother to see and to confirm. And then I cried. Cried like I hadn't cried for any person or friend. I sobbed because Perk had been one longest. My parents laughed at me. He was only a bird. This is life. Start getting used to it. I got mad and screamed words I don't even remember. My brother was different. Surprised by his big sister's behavior. Rather awed by my ranting. He tried to understand. My one consolation. He took command and told me to find an empty stationery box. I thought of the white tissue paper on my own. He gently took care of what I didnit want to see. And then we went outside. It was still sunny, but the wind was cold. I kept thinking about how much I wanted to get back inside. We got a shovel from the tool shed. I knew exactly where I wanted. Under the old acacia' tree. Pro- tected by a pile of used railroad ties and a barbed wire fence. Across from the side porch. It is not an alluring place, but I played house there when I was little. The ground was covered with dead leaves and soft. The somber little ceremony was over in a few minutes. We paused. My brother with complete respect for my mood. And then we went back into the house and had dessert. The next day I cleaned the cage and moved it down to the basement. I sighed and swore I'd never have another canary. It couldn't be the same. I automatically think of I56

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g would watch him when I went away to school. I was made many promises, but I learned that you can't trust mothers and brothers for everything. I'd walk in the door on a Friday afternoon and head straight for Perk. His water cup was nearly always hone dry. It probably upset me more than it did him. He survived every time. Then his feathers started to go. Not just molting. He soon devel- oped a bald scrawny neck which he valiantly tried to hide from me. Protecting me from its ugliness. I knew he was going to die soon. Arthritis had set in. He couldn't get up to the high bars. He couldn't straighten his legs. They turned white and scaly. Not strong enough to land on. He huddled between his food and his water. No more baths. No more singing. I saw that the room didnit get too cold. That his blanket was left on during the daytime as well as night. He just hunched over the wooden bar all day. Staring. Accusing- , ly. At me or anyone an there. One evening late last l55

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Perk when I walk into his room still. And find it cold. I never go across the yard to the grave. I can't. And what good would it do! He was only a bird. Perk missed my twenty-first birthday party a few weeks later. I was glad. MARY LOU Bonnom '69 OFFERING One day when I am out-running the wind blowing smog in from the grey city and my feet crackling note-book paper fblue-linedj, blown candied-apple wrappers tossed off-hand fharbingers of autumnj : when the sky is twilighted electric and I run in that aimless way, running fast to express whatever it is inside that has been dangling me on a string, 1,11 run 'round the corner smack into you, and, halted, will extend my open, empty hands slowly. Knowing the time when I shall be made still with shame I write this for you that a smile will cross your face and you'll he pleased awhile. CATHY Weiss '70 l57