Ben and the bird

Ben hasn't been sleeping well. He's covered in scratches and scars, especially his arms and face, and when he turns over in bed, he hurts and wakes himself up. He keeps a jar of calamine lotion on his nightstand and rubs it all over himself through the night. Plus, he is always on call.

Tonight at 2AM, he is awakened from a dream about being a horse by the sound of his cell phone. The screen reads "INCOMING CALL FROM THE BIRD." He groans. The bird has been taught to press a button in its cage when it needs attention--when it needs to be fed, or when it needs its newspaper changed. This button sends an alert directly to Ben's phone, because caring for the bird is Ben's primary responsibility.

Ben rolls out of bed and puts on his shoes. He was already wearing his suit.

***

Ben arrives at his office every morning at 8AM. Today he has been to the gym, where he sat on a stationary bike, ate a package of Skittles and watched a syndicated entertainment news show.

He gets into the office and approaches Shelley at the reception desk. He begins telling her about a man he saw at the gym this morning who was wearing an orange visor. He is just getting to the part where he sarcastically says to the man, "nice visor," when Shelley cuts him off.

"Have you fed the bird?"

He has not.

Ben grumbles and walks away. He is supposed to check on the bird as soon as he arrives. If Ben stops to talk with someone first or heads straight upstairs, he is reminded by Shelley or someone else that his first priority is that bird.

The bird is in a large bird habitat directly across from the reception desk. It is a walk-in glass case with branches and rocks to keep the bird stimulated, and enough space so it can fly around. The habitat is about the size of Ben's office, give or take.

Ben stands at the door. The bird--who knows Ben well by now--stares right at him.

"All right, bird," Ben mutters under his breath. "If you scratch me again today, it'll be the last time."

The bird's talons tighten on its perch.

***

Ben has a hot date tonight. He was set up by a friend. His date is wearing a yellow dress. Ben does not approve, and he has already removed her number from his phone.

They are sitting at dinner. The waiter asks if they would like something to drink and Ben waves him away--the water will be fine. Ben informs his date that he will only be having a salad because he has to "jet." Ben's date nods.

Ben's date asks why his face is so scratched. Does he have a cat? Ben grumbles and says that he hates cats, even though it isn't true.

Ben's date notices something in his hair--something green. She points it out to him. What is that? Is that--?

Ben runs his hand through his hair. He pulls out a green feather.

Oh, it's a feather, says his date. Ben has turned bright red. He takes the feather in his hand and squeezes. His date asks, are you OK? Ben can only sputter in reply.

It's OK, his date says, it's just a feather. Ben slams his fist on the table. His glass of water spills onto the thin tablecloth. He screams, so the whole restaurant can hear, "BIRD!"

***

Ben left work a couple hours ago. He left the door to the bird habitat open just a crack, so that it might fly away. He is returning to plant a coworker's ID card inside the habitat, so she'll be blamed for leaving the habitat's door open.

The office is empty. Ben enters the alarm's security code and tiptoes to the habitat. Ben doesn't turn on the light; the only illumination in the room comes from the streetlights through the window. The habitat's door is wide open. Ben steps inside; the bird is nowhere to be found. "Another knockout punch for the king," he whispers to himself.

He drops his coworker's ID card in the center of the habitat and reenters the lobby. He is about to close the habitat's door behind him when he hears a clicking sound. He looks over at the reception desk; no one is there. He hears a sound like someone airing out a bedsheet. But no, he hears it again, and recognizes it this time. It's flapping.

He looks up now to see a green flash up near the ceiling. He shouts--"GET OUT OF HERE, BIRD!" The bird calls back--"CAW!" Ben spins around wildly, trying to keep the bird in his sight. He loses it. He stares straight up, hoping to see it again, when he suddenly hears the sound of something falling. He turns around just in time to see the bird like a missile zooming at his face. He has no time to move. The bird's claws sink into his cheeks.

Ben and the bird wrestle for a bit. The bird has the upper hand, digging over and over again into Ben's face. He feels its beak scratching at his forehead. Finally, Ben pries the door to the habitat open with his foot. He grabs the bird by its body and pulls it off his face, tearing several new cuts open in the process. He throws the bird at the back of the habitat as if the bird were a football. It hits the back wall. Ben closes the door and curses. The bird climbs up to its perch and twitches, smoothing out its feathers. It watches Ben out the door, every step of the way.

***

Ben daydreams about giving his boss an ultimatum. He would storm into his office unannounced. "Listen, S.S.," he would say. "It's either me or the bird."

In Ben's daydreams, Steven leans back in his chair. "Hmm," he says, while Ben stands in the door, sweat stinging the scratches covering his arms and face.