Jeremy the Crow, Part II

[Continued from here.]

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“Oh Jeremy,” wailed Mamacita, “Crows can’t forget to fly!” as she bandaged his swollen leg and tattered wing with velvety catnip leaves. The little fellow hung his head in shame and feared he’d never see the outside world again. His leg throbbed painfully, but he put up a brave front and lay quietly in bed as Mamacita went about her chores. The days passed. With his siblings gone, the nest was quieter and Jeremy lay watching racing clouds during the day and colorful kites in the evenings. He felt much better, but his leg wasn’t any stronger. Every time he tried to stand up, it would give way and he would tilt lopsidedly on his good leg. His right wing wouldn’t open out fully and he’d eventually give up after hours of trying. “Look, Mamacita!” he’d say in those early days, when he still believed he could fly, but soon the disappointment in his mother’s eyes became more painful than his battered body and he gave up.

Mamacita, in her defense, was a practical crow. She knew she wouldn’t be around forever and that Jeremy needed to make the best of the situation and learn to look after himself. And so, with much goading and prodding, she taught him how to half-climb, half-tumble out of their home and hop along the ledge that ran below it. Soon, Jeremy was confidently making forays into the neighborhood dustbins, feasting on leftover meat and scraps of Chinese takeaway. He grew into a handsome bird with glossy, inky feathers, shiny, alert eyes and a face wiser than his years. He was happy with his own company and would spend hours watching children at play and cars trundling past the barricade on Glen Gate Street.

One particular game intrigued Jeremy. The children threw a pebble onto a square on the ground, raised a leg and hopped over to that square, whipping around and hopping back to pick up the pebble. They reminded Jeremy of himself, and he edged nearer to the park to see them. He was usually careful not to get too close, because he couldn’t fly away like other crows, and he preferred to watch from behind the safety of a bush. Today, however, there were fewer children in the play area, as most of them were attending D Baby’s birthday party, and Jeremy felt bolder. After quickly checking that no one was looking, he hopped onto the fake turf with its chalk pattern.

(concluding part coming up…..)