Maybe all my neighbors put this plot together to embarrass me. Bastards. I hate them all!"
He opened the chair, plopped down and aimlessly tossed about some of his bread crumbs. His spirits were in the dumps and mumbled, "Okay, you worthless turds, you've got me. I'll sit here long enough for you to get your jollies off!" He then shouted toward the houses, "But I'll never come back to this field again!" He thought, "I'll just stay on my patio where you can't see me. Maybe I'll tear down all the things I've built, chop them into pieces and throw them in your backyards in the middle of the night. Ha," he smirked. "Just try to prove it was me, you assholes." He stewed some more, "Better yet, I'll kill all my birds and throw those in your yard."
All of a sudden his ears discerned a fluttering in the trees. "What the...?" He knew the sound of flapping bird wings but hadn't heard them this close before. It was in the correct place but out of place at the same time. He finished setting-up as quickly as he could and started tossing more crumbs all around in a wide circle. "I'll bet that damn Mister Black is projecting a cd sound tract at me. All to make me look even more foolish," but a spark of 'the impossible happening' fired a glimmer of hope within him. "What if?" as he sat mesmerized at the wind-driven swaying tree branches. He didn't detect any movement. Then came a bird call, 'coo'. And another call, this one distinctly different from the first, then followed by a 'cheep'. Next, a 'wheat-wheou' from behind him. "I recognize those sounds. That last one was a blue jay, a red-winged blackbird and a grey, ring-necked dove." Harvey knew his birds. Soon he heard dozens of calls from all different types. He sat very still. A blue jay swooped down from a poinsettia tree and landed ten feet in front of him. It hopped up and down in their usual manner and pecked at the bread. Then four more arrived to complete its family. They all ate the crumbs right in front of him instead of picking them up and returning to their home nesting tree as their custom. "Wow." He could almost reach down and touch them. "This is amazing!" More and more of all types came, a total of at least fifty. They arrived so fast he couldn't count them. Both Harvey's eyes and mouth were wide open when the best of all occurred: a spotted brown dove landed on each knee and began cooing at him for food. He was so shocked he couldn't move and just stared. A small blackbird landed on his right shoulder and a mockingbird on his left. They snuggled up to him, rubbed their little faces on Harvey's ears and playfully kissed him on his cheeks... he almost wet his pants. His hand trembled as he retrieved from his pocket a plastic baggie full of wild bird seed. His new found friends took turns sitting on his wrists and eating the food out of his hands. "Unbelievable," he gasped. In thirty minutes all of his provisions were depleted and yet they wouldn't leave him. They kept taking turns hopping up and kissing him then returning to the ground to sit and rest. Harvey shed a tear of happiness.
An hour and a half had passed before he noticed his watch. "Uh, oh, it's time to go to work. Drat, maybe I'll call in for a sick day, get more supplies and come back out here." He surely didn't want to leave and end this once in a lifetime experience. "But wait, didn't Mister Black say this could happen to me every day? I believe he did!" Enforced with the prospect and with a happy heart he gladly packed up his gear, bade 'goodbye' to all his friends and added he'd be back tomorrow. He also swore if the birds weren't here he'd go looking for Mister Black in a most unkind way. After-all, it would be a crime to show him all this happiness and then snatch it away. Harvey had become confused again as he ambled back to his house. "Did he say I could buy this? Or rent it? I don't quite remember." He then saw Sophie peeking from her kitchen window and quickly flipped her the finger. "Die, Bitch."
The next morning came ever so slowly. Harvey, ever the pessimist, dreading a heart-breaking disappointment, slogged into the field to the same spot where he had set-up the day before. He brought with him triple the amount of supplies. "Did it really happen? Was I sick, delirious on my couch and imagined yesterday? It was utterly impossible... after-all, these are wild birds, not domestic pigeons." To his infinite delight, it happened again on even a grander scale - a hundred birds and more varieties. Harvey fell in love.
Almost a week passed and it seemed like a mere few minutes. Saturday came. He ran out of goodies after two hours and his friends retreated into the trees to rest as Mister Black made a reappearance. "How'd it go?" as he gave a knowing grin.
Harvey was so grateful a tear ran down his cheek again. He quickly turned away - not wanting to show a sign of weakness. "Okay... good," he croaked.
"Hey, friend, cheer up. They'll be back this early evening. Wild birds feed twice a day, morning and evening. You probably forgot since you've been working those crazy hours at the library."
Weinstein's heart did a joyous flitter and answered, "Oh, yeah, yeah. I knew that," trying to appear knowledgeable.
"Of course you did, Harv. They rest at midday and all day Sunday. Nothing on Sunday, Partner but I'm sure you knew that also. Right?"
"Oh, yeah. Everyone knows, especially me. I'm known as somewhat of an authority," he bragged.
"Yes, I know what you are," returned his benefactor. Then getting straight to the point, "Do you want this to continue?" Harvey just glared at him in response to the ridiculous question. "It's your call, Buddy. You've sampled the wares. It's time to talk turkey, or in this case, wild birds," and grinned at his play on words.
Harvey and Mister Black were an arms-length apart. The salesman gave him a few moments to reflect on his recent experience. "Are you satisfied; are you happy with my demonstration?"
Weinstein reflected in his mind, "Is this a trick question? I've never felt so wonderful, alive, vibrant... I can't even describe it." Not wanting to tip his hand and reveal his innermost feelings Harvey answered, "Yeah, yeah. You really delivered the goods. Thanks a lot." Unsaid, he reasoned, "Did you do anything at all? Or was it just a coincidence? I don't see any evidence indicating you personally lured these birds here."
"Thanks a lot. Is that all you have to say, Partner? Are you actually ready to bid a final 'goodbye' to these magnificent creatures who in turn have grown to love you?" Harvey gulped. Mister Black raised and dropped his hand. All the birds gave a resounding chorus - a blend of beautiful music to their yearning, wanting, last caretaker.
"Oh, my god," whispered Harvey.
"Well, not exactly... but close. Which brings us to the knitty-gritty. Harv, my good friend, you can have this for the rest of your life... even an extended life... for a small price," he stated as he waved a wide circle around the bird lover. "What do you say, Sport. Are you ready to deal?"
"I'm a man of little means..." began Harvey.
"No, no," raising his hand, interrupted Mister Black. "I have a different proposal; no money involved."
"I'm listening," acknowledged the ardent bird-lover. "What do you want?"
"Your soul... just for a little while," while showing a slight gap between his index finger and thumb.
Harvey stood waiting for the punch line of this silly joke. Mister Black folded his arms and stared him down. Harvey finally smirked and said, "Good one, Bro." A pause. "You are kidding, right? Cause you sure don't look like the Devil and I don't think the Big Red One would be trading bird feathers for souls."
"You'd be surprised my friend at the deals made. Good deals, for people as yourself. Oh, and by the way I'm not the 'Big Red One'. Consider me to be an agent for him. A travel agent if you wish; that would be most fitting."
Harvey gave him a cynical look and returned, "Do I look like some kind of smuck? Sounds like a load of crap to me." He surveyed the surrounding area. "Am I on America's Funniest Home Video's or something?" He waved his two middle fingers at the trees. "Up yours, folks. How'd you like that, Mister Travel Agent?"
The salesman remained calm and retorted, "Yours is a typical response. We both know what you really want. You'd be surprised to learn that nearly all of our contract holders didn't desire money, fame or power either. They wanted things which were personal to them, most involved some form of love. In that regard, you're
just like them. You're in the majority, Bud. The initial problem I have at the beginning is that people don't understand the conditions and details of the contract which is called a covenant. Don't worry; we'll go over everything thoroughly."
Harvey stopped making smart remarks and began to listen. "I assume you're not an overly religious person. Are you?" Weinstein indicated, 'no'. "Let me explain the highlights, the Big Picture for you, my friend. Most people, uninformed people, are afraid of being thrown into a firey pit called Hell when this life is over and burning forever. I would be too! But it doesn't work that way. I admit there are a few warm spots here and there reserved for some truly bad to the bone folks but that's not what the system's about. Here's the lowdown, Sport. Hell is not much more than a big, giant holding tank, full of souls waiting for the Resurrection. You've heard of the Judgment Day, right Harv?" He nodded a meek, 'yes'. "It's going to be a real and true happening; you can count on it. On that particular 'day', which is a figure of speech in relation to actual time, God will decide who's good or bad and send them off to their proper final destination. I'm sure the group I'm affiliated with will get a few returnees to be dealt with appropriately when the