The Red, Blue, and Yellow Plane

“Hey chief, where have you been flying these days?” Dawn spoke on the landline to her former coworker. Dawn, a woman in her seventies, retired years ago. “Remember when you gave me the one-time pass to borrow a plane, no questions asked? Remember when I said I’ll never ask for that? Tomorrow night I need five of the biggest planes from Earth Airlines, and I could use some help flying them.”

“Who are we flying and where are we taking them?” Chief Soul asked.

“We are going to Honduras, Soul,” Dawn replied. Soul met her with silence. Honduras was far from America. Five planes was not an easy request.

“How many people need to go to Honduras, Dawn?” Soul asked.

“Five pilots,” Dawn replied.

Soul scoffed. “You’re not one to joke, Dawn. Is your grandkid teaching you how to conduct a prank call?”

“Five pilots,” Dawn repeated, “and thousands of Scarlet Macaws.”

*****

On the night of the full moon, Dawn ate rice and beans, read twenty pages of a book about trees, and turned off her bedside lamp at nine pm. She sighed at how routine her nights became; she had turned into the picture of a retired grandmother. She looked out her window and whispered to the moon, “please, if you can, make my life exciting again.” She has flown thousands of flights all across the world and now she sits on the porch, and at the kitchen table, and on her rocking chair, and in her bed, and sometimes in her car during trips to the grocery store. She was tired of being tired and she wanted to explore the sky again.

*****

The sun woke Dawn up at six in the morning and she reluctantly began her first task of the day: scrambled eggs and tea in her front porch seat. The birds and the clouds were Dawn’s favorite show—she much preferred them to the tv. This morning, Dawn’s neighbor drank coffee on a lawn chair in his front yard. He waved to Dawn, out of sheer politeness, and proceeded to stick his face so close to his book Dawn questioned if he even knew how to read. He was a quiet man who had more pets than human friends. He attracted many animals to his property. The most recent member of his home was a colorful thing. A parrot was perched on the porch and tried to fly across the lawn, but Dawn’s neighbor kept them inside the porch screen.

Dawn called the bird Scar. As a pilot, Dawn knew the freedom of flying. Her neighbor was inflicting harm on the being—this bird was a living scar. She tried to talk to her neighbor about the inhumane act of keeping the bird as a pet, but every time she spoke he stuck his nose further into his book.

*****

That night Dawn dreamt of a forest full of Parrots. Vibrant reds, yellows, and blues flew through the lush land. The sun was a friend of the birds and so were the pine trees. Parrots build nests at the top of trees for the safety of the babies, but humans know how to climb to the top. In this dream, a man walked outside of his home and ran to a tree. He wrapped a rope around the trunk and shimmied up to the top. He found the nest and baby Parrots and placed all three birds into a bag. The babies screamed and the mothers cried. They flew in circles through the night.

*****

Dawn sat on her front porch in her red chair, tea in her hand and eggs on her lap. She watched her neighbor and stared at the bird. Her brow furrowed into her forehead. She closed her eyes and counted to ten. Be brave, Dawn thought. She stood up. She moved her feet. She faced Scar through the screen. Her neighbor turned his lawn chair toward Dawn and Scar. He said nothing. He scoffed.

“I am admiring this being,” Dawn said, “My name is Dawn. I live over there. I would like to know where you found this bird and if you will let them fly beyond the house,” Dawn said these words while looking at Scar.

“People call me Jay. That is a Scarlet Macaw. She knows a few words. She knows ‘I love you’ and she’ll take the blame if you fart.” Jay spoke to his book, “She is mine. She stays inside.”

Dawn rested her face on the screen window and whispered to Scar, “Hello. My name is Dawn. I do not need you to cover for me when I fart. I eat beans every night and I am proud of it. I think you have been visiting me in my dreams. Where are you from?” Scar looked at Dawn for a few minutes. Jay looked at his book. Finally, Jay put his book down and sighed. Dawn quickly turned toward her house.

“Honduras,” Scar said.

*****

Dawn continued to dream of people stealing Scarlet Macaws, and even though the same thing happened each time, she knew they were different families of Macaws every night. After a few weeks of seeing the same scenes, Scar revealed the journey from the poacher’s bags to America. The domestic and international pet trade was carrying hundreds of Scarlet Macaws overseas. There were poachers, middlemen, and international traffickers involved.

Two nights before the next full moon, Scar revealed the traffickers’ headquarters. In this dream, Scar spoke to Dawn. She gave her the coordinates of the trailers full of birds, and asked Dawn to please take them back home. “Jay falls asleep shortly after the sun hides. Cut a hole into the porch screen, and we will fly to my family.”

*****

The moon was larger than it had been in years. Dawn was back in the sky, flying in front of four other planes, and her passengers were very unique. Out of all the planes Dawn, Soul, and the other pilots had flown, their flights never had so much blue, red, and yellow. They landed in Mabita as the sun awoke, and at once, thousands of birds flew into the sky. The children of the town pointed to the forest and their parents lifted them onto their shoulders. The birds have returned! The Macaws are among us!

Dawn turned to the locals and recognized a face—a poacher from her dreams was walking around the plane. “Hey!” Dawn yelled, “You know these birds well. I am afraid to leave because I do not want you to poach them again.”

His eyes widened and his eyebrows raised. “My name is Moreno,” he said. He closed his eyes and touched his hand to his chest. “My heart is broken every day.” He invited Dawn inside for tea. “Can I tell you my story?” Dawn was hesitant to follow the poacher into his home. She felt red and blue and did not trust Moreno. “I understand you see me as a criminal. You do not know of a separation between me and the traffickers,” said Moreno. He began to walk toward his home, and Dawn slowly followed behind.

Moreno’s house was small. There wasn’t a porch or a bedside lamp or a private lawn. There were kids playing with a ball who spoke to Moreno in Spanish. Moreno welcomed Dawn into his space and told her of his current profession. “I make a living banding the Apu Pauni, the Scarlet Macaws. I work with a protection program—they pay us to put numbers on the Macaws so that we can identify and reclaim them if poachers try to steal them. I know you must think I am no different than the traffickers, but I used to poach in order to survive. I made a lot of money for each bird I found and gave to the trade. These poachers are violent. It was safer to join them. They stopped trying to hurt me and I could feed my family. Now we have a sanctuary to care for the Apu Pauni to aid in their transition into the wild. I live with a heart that the poachers cracked and it broke more every time I took a bird from their nest. I am trying to repair the harm I have participated in. It is hard to forgive myself.”

*****

Dawn returned home and crawled into bed at two am. She felt energetic and young again. In her dreams, Scar flew through the trees of Honduras and guided her through the forest. Soul and Moreno joined Dawn and all three of them had their own wings. “I forgive you,” Scar said to Moreno. They dipped their wings into the river and spun between the pines. Dawn, Soul, Moreno and Scar had never felt so free.