FEED THE BIRDS

Billy and Missy saw the sign – ‘Feed the Birds’ and it sounded like the right thing to do.  They bought seed and hung feeders on their pear tree.  They were delighted when the first cautious birds arrived.

“So relaxing to watch,” said Billy.
“Better than TV,” agreed Missy.
The next morning there were birds of many colours and shapes in their garden, clinging to the feeders or pecking at the seeds spilt on the lawn.  Their joyous song seeped through the walls of the house and filled Billy and Missy with over-whelming happiness.  Missy dragged herself to work, cheering herself up with the thought she’d see the birds later, then remembered it would be dark when she got home.

 

Later she found Billy working with a flashlight in the garden.

“The feeders were empty,” he reported, “we need to give them more.”
Jody, their neighbour peered over the hedge; “Are you putting up a bird table in the dark?”
“Yes,” Missy said, “to surprise the birds in the morning.”
“The birds aren’t the only ones surprised,” muttered Jody and went indoors.
Missy and Billy got up with the sun to a riot of colour and noise in the garden.  There were blue birds swinging on the bird feeders, tipping seed to the doves on the lawn below and yellow canaries on the bird table, spilling seed on the ground where it was consumed by golden pheasants.  Missy was sure to refill the feeders before she went to work, but even with Billy’s help, she was still late.  She left the office before it got dark having been distracted all day.  She stopped at the shop going straight to the section that sold bird seed and arrived back to find an empty, silent garden.
“No!” she cried, “come back!”
She refilled the feeders and spread seed on the table, but the birds didn’t return.
Billy came home to find her crying in the living room.
“I don’t know what happened,” she said and called in sick the next day. 

 

The birds returned in greater numbers, devouring everything within hours, Missy raced to the shop, buying sacks of seeds with the last of her wages.  She spent the day refilling the feeders and replenishing the table, hearing the shrill calls of the birds all around her. “Never leave me again,” she repeated.

Her phone rang; “Missy, I saw you at the shops.  You’re meant to be sick, but you were lugging big sacks into your boot like a healthy person.  What’s going on?”
“I have to feed the birds,” she replied.
“I have to let you go, Missy.  You’ve been coming in late, leaving early and now this …”
Missy hung up the receiver and heard a knock on the door, a Police Officer stood outside.
“Can I come in, Madam?”
“It’s not a good time.”
“We’re not asking, Madam, we’ve arrested your husband for stealing materials from his work.  We’ve got a warrant to search the house.”
They searched, while Missy sat in the living room staring out at the empty bird table, the Police had frightened the birds away.  Officers trooped into the garden and looked with great suspicion at the bird table, but they couldn’t charge Billy because the materials were not as his employer had described them.
“We’ve both lost our jobs,” Missy said, clinging to Billy later, “how are we going to afford to feed the birds?”
They lay awake, restless, waiting for dawn when the birds came and they were filled with a sense of wonder and release.  Then they noticed something, the golden pheasants had not returned.  In their place at the bottom of the bird table were squat Black Birds with sharp beaks and red eyes.  The pretty birds flew away when they arrived.
“Oh what are they?” Missy banged on the window, but the Black Birds stared through the glass at her.  One flapped clumsily onto the table, tipping the contents on the lawn, another tore the bird feeder from the pear tree and it fell open on the lawn.  The Black Birds ate everything in the garden before taking off as one.  Missy and Billy walked onto the grass, all around them birds sang beseechingly from the hedge, they put out more seed and the pretty birds returned.

Seed was running out and there was no money to buy more.  Missy and Billy lay on the couch watching the sun set and the birds fly away.  There was a knock at the door.  Jody stood there with a casserole dish; “You’re not eating.  All you need do is warm this up, I’ll do it if you like,” she looked past them at the dirty floors and the undone washing up.

Billy snatched the dish from her; “It’s OK, thanks.”
“Jody, if you want to help us, can you bring bird seed?” Missy asked.
“You know I can’t do that,” Jody stated firmly.
Later Jody watched from her window as Billy and Missy tipped the contents of the casserole dish onto the bird table.  In the morning the Black Birds came and ate it.   By evening there was nothing left, no seed, no food and no pretty birds in the garden, just silence.  Billy and Missy dozed in the living room, waking with the sun, dry mouthed and shaking, their emaciated bodies weak.  Together they helped each other out into the garden, taking the clothes from each other’s bodies and lying on the frost covered grass beneath the bird table; ready for the arrival of the Black Birds.