Eszter Forvith
“Do you think birds like to fly?” asked little Kate of the elderly gentlemen sitting at the bus stop, who looked up in surprise at the question. He seemed to think for a moment before finally answering. “I think flying to them is like walking to us, it comes naturally, so I don’t think they particularly enjoy or despise it.” That was a far too serious answer for Kate; she did not understand it at all. “If I was a bird I would love to fly, I would be a robin because I’m small and my mum says I sing well,” she said with great conviction. A moment later she added. “What kind of bird would you be?” To that the man looked around rather annoyed, having to look up from his newspaper a second time. “Where are your parents?” he asked back instead. “Around,” said Kate, and before the man could say anything again, she asked another question. “What’s your name? My name is Kate but you can call me Katie if you want to.” “Simon,” said the man and looked around a second time but to no avail. He glanced at the girl who still had no intention of leaving and then sighed; he did not want to deal with this right now. He never liked children, it was a great enough punishment raising his own and now he has to deal with someone else’s as well, it was truly a God-sent punishment.
“Come, let’s find your mom,” he said finally, standing up from the bench. “No need, I know where she is,” said Kate with ease. Now his patience was really running out, but he took a deep breath. “Do you think birds like to sing?” asked Kate while tearing apart a leaf she just picked up from the ground. “And why do they only sing when it’s warm? If I was a bird I would sing when it’s cold too because then I would not be so sad. I’m always sad when it’s cold.” “You really like birds huh?” asked Simon in mild amusement as he took the girl’s hand. “Can you tell me where your mom is?” To that Kate looked at the ground, then at the mostly torn-up leaf, and at last she pointed in a direction. As they began to walk, Kate began talking again. “I often dream that I’m a bird and I can fly. Do you think it means that I’m actually a bird and I just don’t know how to transform?” “Probably not” “Why do you think my parents won’t buy me a bird?” “Because you’re too young to responsibly take care of an animal and it would only mean another problem for your parents.” Kate didn’t understand how such a small thing could mean trouble to anyone, but didn’t talk again until she finally pointed out a woman dressed in a light purple spring coat. “That’s mum,” she said. “Great.” Simon breathed a sigh of relief at the thought that he no longer had to hear her talk. “Go on then, I’ll be leaving.” With that he turned around and was ready to go when he felt a slight tug on his coat. “This is yours,” said the girl while holding out a little white flower to the man. “Thank you!” Simon took the flower and watched the girl run to her mum who, judging by how she was talking on her phone, never even took note of her daughter’s absence. “What an irresponsible parent,” murmured Simon under his breath as he put the little flower in his pocket. As he was walking back to the bus stop, he spotted two pigeons jump off a tall building and letting the wind take them, while circling each other. It was almost like they were dancing in the air. Maybe birds did like to fly.