The Bird Man
I had a dream I lost you. We were at your friends house late one night, watching a weird cartoon movie they made. When it was time to go, at 3:00 am, we packed up all our random things and left. But you left first. You didn’t wait for me. I kept trying to follow you, but you were too far ahead, kept turning the corner before I could catch up.
I followed you to an old monastery where B’omarr Monks roamed. Only we called them Thursday. “Good evening, Thursday.” I looked all over for you. I went down the long hallway, and looked into the fifth door on the right. You were just there. But you were now gone. I was forbidden by the cook and his wife to look in the fifth door on the left. That door was closed.
A line of Thursday’s passed by me as I walked outside. It was now daylight. The Bird Man came up to me, and asked if I’d checked the building next door. I look up. It was an old brick apartment building, the white paint peeling off. It was about five stories high with old dusty lace covering the windows from the inside. “It’s been empty for years” said Bird Man, “Just go to the top and turn on the light, we’ll know you’ve made it,” he points to the top apartment that has a lookout, toward the front of the building. I look at Bird Man, thinking to myself, There is no way I’m going into an abandoned building that’s sitting on monastery property, even if it is during the day. “Come on, Bird Man, you must know where she is. You know everything.”
You see…Bird Man did know everything. About everyone. He didn’t reveal most things, but he knew where everyone was at whatever time, in whatever timeline. Bird Man was tall, thin. He had facial hair and his beak was loud and bright and colorful and quite long, like a Toucan. When he talked to you, he looked deep in your eyes and tilted his head to the side slightly. He knew.
Finally Bird Man led me to a marketplace. He pointed to a woman and a man standing there on the cobblestone. “Bird Man,” I said “that’s not her.” “No. But it is her daughter. She is also looking for her.” Then he slinked away, getting lost in the crowded marketplace. I walk over to your daughter. She’s beautiful. We already know each other. She had long wavy ashy blond hair, almost to her waist. She was thin, wore tight jeans and a fitted jacket with combat boots. She smiled at me and gave me a hug. They were led here in the marketplace by another way. I told her I haven’t found you yet, but I have found her father. Actually, he found me. And told her how much her father misses her and loves her. He wishes he could’ve been there for her, been more for her. I’m crying as I tell her, she doesn’t shed a tear. He’s been gone since she was a baby and could never come back.
I never found you last night. I know you’re safe. I just don’t know what you’re up to. And that’s what scares me.