Catherine

Part 2

Catherine rushed her to the bathroom sink and began washing her arms and legs, trying to remove the syrupy blood to get a better look at what was coming out of them. The hairs had doubled in size since she found them. The baby's cries stopped altogether. Catherine could tell she wasn't getting full breaths as she held her under the faucet. She noticed the sun was coming up. It was day time. Something about the light coming into her room through the blinds gave her hope that she could get Laurie to the doctor. Maybe they could fix her. Maybe they could stop the bleeding. She could say she found her on the beach this morning. No one would have to know how long she had her. Looking back at the baby she noticed the hairs on her arms were growing longer and into what looked like small tubes. All over her body, each hair began growing longer and fanning out into small white feathers. The feathers on her arms were a dusty gray. The feathers coming off her backside were the darkest black she had ever seen. The bleeding was slowing it seemed as Catherine watched the baby's legs shrink to the size of sticks. The soft skin hardened into a calloused brown hide. The toenails became black and pointed. She looked at the baby's face for signs of breathing, but the only thing she saw was a thick maroon beak breaking through what used to be little Laurie's nose.

Suddenly, the bird shook violently. Its eye's opened and locked onto Catherine in sheer terror. It freed itself and began flying around the bedroom. Catherine was completely still, not knowing whether to try to catch it or let it fly. It flew into the vanity mirror and landed on the table knocking lipstick canisters and plastic boxes of eye shadow to the ground. A few feathers fell on the carpet as the bird frantically flapped its wings trying to find an exit. It flew to the hallway and down the stairs out of Catherine's sight. She stayed gripping the bathroom counter, covered in blood and small white feathers.

She could hear it knocking over the lamp near the bay window. She heard it land onto the dirty dishes she had left in the sink. Its squawks were deafening. She heard it land on the marble kitchen island, and then silence. Catherine ran to the bedroom door and shut it. She turned the lock on the handle, leaned against the door, and for what seemed like days she sat and watched the Saturday sunrise.

Around ten o'clock she managed to pull herself up from the floor. She unlocked the knob and made her way to the carpeted stairwell. As she reached the foot of the stairs she could see a few feathers and a dried spot of bird droppings on the linoleum. She walked downstairs and found the bird sitting on the marble-topped kitchen island. It looked at her with terror in its beady eyes. Catherine moved as slowly as she could trying not to disturb the bird. Maybe it's hungry, she thought. Maybe it needs to know I'm friendly. She glanced over at the bread box remembering the moldy loaf heels she had left in the plastic bag. The bird, making no quick movements, kept its eyes on Catherine as she lifted the roll-top covering and brought out two slices of bread.

She pulled a piece from the dry heel and tossed it onto the counter only an inch from the bird. Its dark eyes darted to the bread, and only moments later it snatched up the piece and swallowed it whole. She threw another piece while taking one step closer to the island. The bird, like before, ate it immediately.

"See, I knew you were hungry." Her voice was shaking.

She tossed two more pieces and took two more steps towards the bird.

"I am a good mommy, Laurie. You were just hungry."

The bird, noticing the closeness of Catherine became a bit skittish but stayed put waiting for more bread.

"You just needed mommy to feed you something."

She tossed one more piece to the bird, and before it could grab it, Catherine had the bird in her hands, pressed against her chest. The bird went wild, flapping its fresh wings in Catherine's face, but she gripped tighter and tighter as she walked towards the back patio doors. Its beak made slashes on her wrists. She stepped over the blankets and pillows left on the rug and moved past the overturned lamp by the bay window.

"Calm down, Little Laurie. I'll let you go soon," she said as she shifted the bird to one hand and undid the deadbolt of the back door.

She stepped out onto the patio and shut the door behind her. There were two kids running along the shore. A mom, twenty yards away, sat quietly reading a magazine in a beach chair. A few boats were out on the water. A man sat alone on the nearby jetty, probably fishing. No one noticed Catherine on her patio holding the seagull against her bare chest. Reluctantly, she tossed the flailing bird into the salty wet air. Without hesitation, it flapped its wings and took off towards the shoreline where a large group of seagulls was gathering around the two kids who were tossing bits of their lunch into the air.

Catherine watched her bird flying and mixing with the group until she couldn't tell Laurie from the others and silently returned to the living room.