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Fiction Short Story

by  Donna Sundblad

The Red Feather

Leo dropped coins from his pocket onto the table, grabbed his half-eaten hamburger off the plate and walked to the exit.

“What a selfish jerk,” the waitress grumbled as the door closed behind him.

Leo smiled and stepped into the warm sunshine. “Wha’ a day.” His cheeks ballooned stuffed with food, but he shoved another bite into his mouth. He patted his stomach. “I’m full." He picked at the bun. "I don't need all this bread.”

He tossed a few breadcrumbs to the ground. A flock of starlings swooped from the trees lining the parking lot and fought over the morsels. Leo chuckled and flung another crumb to watch them squabble. A large green bird landed in the midst of the smaller birds and the flock scattered.

“Where’d you come from?” Leo asked.

“Chicago,” the bird answered.

Leo glanced around. “Funny, where’s the camera?” He swallowed the wad of food in his mouth.

The bird cut across the empty parking space and ambled toward Leo. “There’s no camera and I'm rather hungry. May I have more bread?”

Leo tossed another chunk of his bun to the pavement.

“Thank you.” The parrot clutched the sesame seed topped scrap with his foot.

Leo rubbed the stubble growing on his chin. “Where do you live?” he asked the bird.

The parrot cocked his head. Blue and yellow feathers highlighted its face and tan-colored beak. His dark brown eyes fixed on Leo. “I don’t have a home.” He fluttered his wings, settled next to the last discarded tidbit, and devoured the saturated speck. “That was delicious. It's been ages since I've tasted mayo.”

Parrots are worth a lot of money, especially this breed, Leo thought. If I catch this bird, I'll be rich.

Leo walked to the back of his powder blue Cadillac. "I might have something else for you in my car." He wiped the palms of his clammy hands against his jeans and reached into his trunk. What can I use to capture this green moneymaker before it flies away?

The bird hovered near Leo’s ear and whispered. “Could I live with you?”

Leo stood up and whacked his head on the trunk lid. “Ouch!" He rubbed the bump emerging from his bald spot and stared at the bird. "You want to live with me?”

The parrot flapped its wings and landed in front of Leo's scuffed shoes. “I can make you rich.”

Leo smiled, bent his knees and extended his ring-laden hand. “Why don’t cha come home with me. I'll take good care of you.”

Chicago climbed aboard Leo's hand and thanked him.

Leo's Cadillac pulled up in front of Mike's Pet Emporium on the way home.

“You don’t need a cage,” Chicago said. “I won’t be going anywhere if you treat me right.”

Leo licked his lips. “Well, you see. . . ." He rubbed his short dark whiskers. “It’s like this. My landlord doesn’t allow pets that aren't caged." He hurried from the car and disappeared into the pet store.

Leo returned and struggled to fit the large white cage into the back seat. He glanced at the bird perched on the headrest of the bucket seat on the passenger side. "So how are you going to make me rich? This cage cost me a fortune.”

The parrot spread his wings, fanned his tail, and revealed vibrant blues, yellows and a bit of red while Leo climbed behind the steering wheel.

“My blue tail feathers can make you rich,” the bird said.

Leo checked the traffic and pulled into the nearest lane. He took his eyes off the road and counted two blue feathers. “That's good. What about those yellow feathers?” He jabbed his thick index finger toward the green bird.

“Yellow feathers grant power.”

"Power, I like the sound of that." Leo smiled as his long car pulled up in front of his apartment building. A gold cap on his front tooth shined in the late afternoon sunlight. “What about that?” He pointed to the bird's tail. “The red one?”

“Never,” the bird warned, “use the red one.”

Leo’s brow furrowed and he hauled the cage up the stairs to his unit on the third floor. True to Chicago's word, the feathers worked their magic and Leo wallowed in money. The more he earned, the more he desired, and he plucked all the bird’s blue and yellow feathers in a few weeks. One chilly morning he stood before the cage and checked his wallet. “How long before you grow another blue feather?”

The bird sulked at the far end of his perch; his dull eyes gazed at the wall. His plucked tail exposed abraded skin.

“Listen Chicago. If you wanna eat, you better tell me.”

“Use the power wisely.” Chicago's beak moved up and down while his refined voice offered advice to the man threatening to starve him. “It takes six weeks for an empowered feather to grow.”

“Six weeks! I got a real estate deal in the works. What about that red one?” Leo pointed to Chicago’s sole tail feather.

“Don’t use it.”

“What do you mean?” Leo sneered. “You holding out on me?”

Chicago’s feathers ruffled, he eyes closed, and Leo stormed from the room.

The following day Leo shuffled to the cage. “If you aren't going to talk to me, I'm not feeding you.” Leo rattled a container of parrot food in front of the bird’s perch. Chicago did not react. He placed the food on a small table outside the cage and left the room.

Later that day, Leo sat on a folding chair in front of the cage and gobbled a slice of gooey pizza. “Mmmmmm." He took a big bite. Threads of cheese clung to his chin. "If you want some of this, you've got to tell me ‘bout the red feather.”

“If you plan to use it, then you’ll have to do it while I’m alive.”

Leo's eyes widened. He stopped chewing and swallowed hard. “Hang on, Chicago." He tossed the paper plate with the half-eaten slice of pizza onto the small table and knocked the chair to the floor as he stood. "I’ll get you some clean water.” He hurried to the sink. Chicago sat on his perch, eyes closed.

The sour stench from the dirty cage made Leo’s nose wrinkle. “Nasty.” He waved his hand back and forth to clear the odor, and stared at the sleeping bird. He slipped the water dish into place. Chicago’s one red feather hung below the perch.

I’ll reach in there and pluck that sucker before it's too late. Leo opened the door without a sound and slid his hand under the sleeping bird. The red feather tickled his palm. He closed his fist, held his breath and yanked.

“Squawk!” The cage crashed to the floor. Chicago escaped minus his tail and landed on the floor in a burst of light. In his place stood a middle-aged man.

“What happened?” Leo asked. He glanced around the room and back at the stranger.

The middle-aged man shook his head. “Your greed activated the power of the red feather, Leo. You’ve trapped yourself in that body until you find someone greedy enough to take your place.”

“Whada ya mean? Squawk!” Leo stared at his rubbery three-toed feet.

Chicago opened the window and dumped a pile of birdseed onto the plate with the pizza. “See you around Leo.” He ambled to the door. “Hope it doesn’t take you as long it did me. As soon as your tail grows, I’d get busy.”


About the Author
Author and freelance writer Donna Sundblad lives in SW Florida with her husband and flock of seven birds. Her Blue-front Amazon, Neelix, inspired this story. Donna’s creative writing book, Pumping Your Muse, is available in print or electronic format. For more information, visit her website at www.theinkslinger.net.