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The Seagull Way

  a mostly-true short story

  by

  John A. Hosh

  The Seagull Way: a mostly-true short story

  by John A. Hosh

  Copyright John A. Hosh 2013

  Cover art copyright John A. Hosh 2013

  All rights are reserved.

  I thought 6 September might be Delbert’s great day. When the squawking of a gull — almost certainly either Heathcliff or Martha — woke me, which was ten minutes after daybreak, I hurried to perform my morning ablutions because I wanted to see Delbert’s first flight. When I stepped onto my balcony and turned my binoculars southward, that is, toward the condominium tower across the street, neither Heathcliff nor Martha was there. The sturdy, mottled-brown Delbert was alone on the second highest level, that is, he was on level-two.

  Level-two was the only home Delbert had known. A platform about five meters by four meters with a surface of small stones, level-two was pierced by two metal chimneys that were secured by several wire ties. While I watched him in the early morning, Delbert was stretching his wings and giving them a few flaps, or he was stepping carefully round and between the chimneys.

  In recent weeks, Delbert’s sister, the nimble Firenze, had spent more and more of her day running between and around the chimneys while her beefy brother was slumbering in the shade of the wall that was the south side of level-two or the north end of level-one. Round the outside of level-two (and round the outside of level-one) was a narrow, hand-high parapet that was covered by some painted metal flashing. Near the end of August Firenze had invented a game that had her hopping onto the flashing at level-two’s east end, scooting along the flashing to the platform’s west end, then hopping and flapping until she was again at her starting-point. Burly Delbert tried to play Firenze’s game but — on his first attempt — he slipped, almost fell off level-two and overturned onto the stones. Thereafter from time to time he would, like Firenze, hop and flap across the platform but he would not hop onto the flashing either to begin or to end his run. Delbert used the flashing only for sitting, reposing and sleeping.

  After 1 September it was not unusual for Martha and Heathcliff to leave the chicks alone for hours. Brawny Delbert was almost as big as his mother while Firenze was as big as a raven; so the gull chicks were at little risk from the neighborhood’s predatory birds. The chicks had no one to bother them except the painters, who had almost completed their work.

  Until 4 September the lissome Firenze spent much of each day playing her game. Round and round the platform she would scurry, hop and flap until she was almost flying. Delbert spent most of his days taking naps and watching Firenze. After a burst of activity, Firenze would often nestle against her slumbering brother until she was ready to go again.

  I never saw any ill will between Firenze and Delbert in the more-than-two-months I watched them. The gull chicks did not squabble over their meals. They never quarreled over a hapless beetle. When the painters were painting or a dark sky was flashing and booming, Firenze and Delbert stayed together. At night, they slept always side-by-side in the platform’s southeast corner.

  On 4 September, shortly before noon, I happened to look from my window toward the condominium tower. Delbert was at level-two’s east end. His head was over the flashing, and he was looking eastward and down. I could not see Firenze until I stepped onto my balcony. To my surprise, she was on level-three, which is southeast of level-two and more than one meter below it. On a platform that is three meters by three meters, Firenze was pecking at the stone-covered surface that surrounded an aluminum air vent. It seemed she was in good health.

  Squawking, Heathcliff landed on the condominium tower’s level-one, which is two meters higher than level-two and has about as much area. Level-one gave Heathcliff a good view of level-three. Strutting along level-one’s flashing, he stopped at the northeast corner, peered at Firenze and called, “What are you doing down there, girl? Are you playing some kind of game? I don’t think you’re ready to fly yet. You should leave such matters to your mother and me. We’ll decide when you should try your luck, and we’ll get back to you. I suppose you expect us to feed you down there now. I’m going to have to talk to your mother about this! I thought she was going to have a talk with you and let you know our feelings about things.” Heathcliff sighed. “I wonder where your mother is.” Without waiting for any response from Firenze, Heathcliff turned his back on her and strutted westward.

  Not long after Heathcliff’s appearance, Martha landed beside Firenze. Martha asked, “Are you all right, Firenze? Are you hurt? How do you feel?”

  “I’m fine, Mom,” Firenze replied. “It was easy.”

  “Are you going to go into the sky today?”

  “I think I will. I don’t see any reason to wait.”

  “Your father wants you to ask for his permission.”

  “I think I’ll surprise him instead.”

  “He may be cross if you don’t let him play at being a tyrant.”

  “He needs to be a little less vain.”

  “It does seem he’s becoming full of himself, doesn’t it! It’s as if he sat on a cork.”

  “Do you have something to eat?”

  “I haven’t. It’s easier to fly, you know, when you aren’t full. I will try to have something for you this afternoon. I’ll ask your father to come with me. Remember that the hard part is landing. You have to sweep up from below; then drop. You might try some pretend-landings before you really land.”

  “I’m sure I can do it.”

  “I’m confident you will do well.” Martha lifted off. While making a circuit above the building, she shouted, “Heathcliff, I think I know where some juicy grubs are hiding!” Heathcliff flew in pursuit of Martha.

  At one o’clock on 4 September I went onto my balcony with my binoculars. I had been thinking that hopping back and forth between level-three and level-four would be a good way for Firenze to build her confidence. Level-four was north of level-three and was not even one meter below it. The area of the platforms on level-three and on level-four was the same. If Firenze could go back and forth easily between those two levels, then — it seemed to me — her wings could carry her anywhere, and the world was her oyster. At two o’clock I was pleased to find Firenze preening and primping on level-four. At three o’clock I saw that Firenze had lifted herself to level-three. At four o’clock I saw Firenze jump off level-three’s south side, south of which was only empty space.

  Delbert was standing like a statue with his mouth agape and his eyes fixed upon the spot where Firenze had disappeared from our view. I feared the worst when a minute passed and Delbert did not move. So long Firenze I said silently.

  Wagging my head, I was turning away from the neighboring tower when a gull’s squawks and a gull’s mewing prompted me to turn around. I spied Delbert looking eastward and upward. Flying as high as my balcony, making a circuit above the neighboring tower, was a juvenile gull who was unknown to me. Alongside the juvenile gull was the mewing Firenze. The rhythm of her flapping was not ideal but she was moving well enough. The juvenile gull broke away from Firenze and landed easily on level-one. Firenze made one more circuit; then she landed from the east on level-four. On a scale from one to ten where ten is a perfect landing, Firenze’s landing was a nine. Her sweep and her drop gave her plenty of room to stumble but she did not. I exclaimed, “That’s amazing!” It is. I was amazed.

  When Heathcliff landed on level-one a few minutes later, the juvenile gull dived off the building and swam hurriedly eastward. Peering at Firenze, Heathcliff asked, “Why are you even lower now, girl? I thought you, your mother and I were going to have a talk before
you did any more relocating. Was that a boy who was up here? Have I met him? Have you seen your mother this afternoon?” Without waiting for any response from Firenze, Heathcliff turned his back on her and stalked westward.

  At six o’clock on 4 September Martha fed Firenze while Heathcliff was feeding Delbert. In the evening, after the adults had departed, Delbert hopped carefully onto the flashing at level-two’s east side. He sat and watched his sister, who spent some of the evening preening and some of the evening exploring level-four’s corners. Just before the horizon began to hide the sun, Firenze bedded down on level-four while Delbert was bedding down on the spot where he had always lain near his sister.

  Firenze called, “Goodnight, Delbert!”

  “Yeah, g’night, Sis.”

  When I looked out my window at eight o’clock on the gray morning of 5 September, Firenze, Heathcliff and Martha were absent. Delbert was sitting on the flashing at the east side of level-two. He sat there for much of the morning, seeming not to notice when the rain began. Neither Heathcliff nor Firenze visited the condominium tower on 5 September. Martha fed Delbert in the late afternoon — when the clouds were dissipating. She abandoned the building soon after Delbert had eaten.

  After his mother departed, Delbert wandered for hours round the