Fowl Play

“And and,” Brynn's young voice said over her family’s hushed table, “the T-rex would eat ANY of us in one bite!"

"Really?!" Her father said, lifting his fork for Brynn to see, "Well how would it reach its fork with its tiny arms?" He stabbed the utensil into the vegetable on his plate, brought it to his mouth and extracted the fork, baring his teeth as he chewed, growling like what Brynn knew was an attempt at a dinosaur.

"Ryan!" Her mom barked at her dad as she dipped her head toward him. She was smiling so she must have found it funny. "That's so gross."

Brynn laughed, "No! It wouldn't need a fork! It would just do this!" She opened her mouth, baring her teeth, and brought her face toward her plate, snatched a piece of broccoli between her teeth, threw her head back and chomped on the broccoli as her father had, growling like how he thought a T-rex would.

Brynn heard her father chuckling and it made her chew more ravenously until a chunk of the vegetable dropped into her throat; Brynn felt her lungs stop, eyes go wide, the piece of food caught in her neck. She tried to breathe, but couldn't.

Just as Brynn felt the panic swell inside her...

WHACK

Her brother Tyler’s hand struck her back like a paddle and the green, partially-chewed vegetable shot from her mouth landing in the middle of the table near the salt and pepper shakers.

"Dammit, Ryan." Her mom said to her father, reaching for the dislodged piece of food with a napkin.

"What?!" Brynn heard her dad ask between laughter, her brother’s head thrown back, laughing wildly. "It's not my fault she choked on some little dinosaur."

Brynn tried to cough the remaining discomfort away, and reached for her glass of water, drinking it profusely to wash down any remaining food, and embarrassment.

"Well, you're both eating like animals." Her mom said.

"We are animals, mom!" Tyler said. “Brynn’s just not a very smart one.”

“Yes, I am!” Brynn shot back.

Her mom stood from the table and headed for the trash can beside the kitchen island.

“Except we use forks and manners.” She said, pressing the can’s lid switch with her foot and dropping the food into the container. “How old are you, Brynn?”

Brynn raised her chin proudly. “Nine!”

“You’re old enough then.” She replied. “Chew your food right or that’ll happen again.”

Brynn looked over to her father who, still smiling, shrugged and continued eating.

“Well, what about dad?” Brynn asked, “He started it.”

Her mom returned to the table, sat, and scooted her chair forward. “Well, your father is used to choking when he’s trying to be funny.”

Tyler laughed.

“What does that mean?” Brynn asked.

“It means dad’s not funny.”

Brynn looked back to her father who gave another faint shrug and bared his teeth while chewing, but without the growling this time.

Brynn giggled and went back to eating.

“Also,” Her mother began, “Calle is going to have kittens soon, so you’ll both have to be careful with them. This is her only litter and then we’re getting her fixed.”

Brynn looked up. “Is she broken?”

Her parents smiled; Tyler laughed.

“No.” Tyler said, taking in a mouthful of food, “It means she won’t be able to have any more babies.”

“Oh.”

Her mom reached for the salt. “So, you both get to choose one kitten each and we’re going to give the rest away.”

“Aw, we can’t keep all of them?” Brynn’s shoulders dropped.

“They’ll have safe homes,” Her dad said, “Aunt Dana will probably take one... or all of them if she doesn’t get out of the house at all.”

“Honey.” Her mom shot another one of those looks at her dad.

“Like a crazy cat lady!” Brynn shouted.

“Brynn!” Her mom turned to her. “Be nice.” Then she shot another look back at her husband. “Alright, finish your food, Brynn. And chew please. You don’t want to choke in your sleep before your soccer game tomorrow.”

The thought of playing tomorrow excited Brynn, and so she chewed as thoroughly as she could.

Although Brynn felt she could have slept longer, the morning before a game brought her a feeling of energy sleep couldn’t offer. She rolled out of bed and went first thing to the blue and grey uniform hanging on her desk chair. She felt like she was going into some kind of battle as she pulled the jersey over her head.

Moments later Brynn walked out into the hallway and to the right into the large prow area with its large square windows revealing the foggy morning air outside, only a few boughs of the trees and railing of the deck could be seen reaching through the damp, white air. Once there, Brynn took a left toward the kitchen where her father was, standing at the stove making breakfast; bacon and eggs by the smell of it.

Passing the sliding glass door on the right, Brynn looked out into the white atmosphere and stopped.

“Dad.” She said, somewhere between a whisper and shout.

Her father looked up. “Daughter.” He mimicked.

“Look!”

With the wall obstructing his view, her father walked toward Brynn, then turned to follow her gaze through the glass barrier, to somewhere outside.

“Oh cool.” He said. “A barn owl. Have you seen one yet?”

“Uh-uh.” Brynn shook her head.

“It’s home probably got destroyed from the logging down the road.”

Brynn was entranced by the striking creature. Its eyes were like small, shiny black stones, sunken in a white face separated from the rest of its head by a distinct heart-shaped border. Its torso was similarly white with wings of light amber speckled with patches of grey dots that resembled scales.

It just perched there on the deck railing, and for a moment Brynn assumed it was fake, like one of her dolls, still and unmoving, until it ever so slightly shifted its puffy head and blinked. The bird brought some feeling of awe to Brynn, of mystery, almost otherworldly as if this was some alien or elusive, mythological creature. She’d seen owls in books and movies, but seeing one at her own home was enthralling.

“Should we feed him?” Brynn asked, thinking again of breakfast.

“Her.” He replied, returning to the stove. “And no, she’ll do fine. You see those talons?”

Brynn peered and saw the sharp claws gripping the railing, just visible under the fluff of feathers. “Yeah.”

“Those are its forks.” Her dad came over to the nearby table with two plates of steaming food, set them down, “But it still eats like a T-rex.”

“They’re kinda related!” Brynn recalled what she had learned in school the previous week about dinosaurs and birds, although this owl didn’t look much like a bird as much as it did an alien.

“Well,” Her father said as he sat down at the table, “Owl drink to that.”

“Dad, please, don’t.” Brynn rolled her eyes.

After that day, Brynn decided the owl was a sign, a spirit animal like she had read and heard about in fantasy books and movies. Her team had won the game following her first sighting of the barn owl, and she had played exceptionally well. On at least a couple mornings each week for a month, Brynn would see the owl perched somewhere about the railing outside, still and mysterious. Almost smart. She thought it made her smarter, more owl-like. On one occasion, Brynn had moved too close to the glass of the screen door and the creature had taken flight upon seeing her. She hated scaring Angel off. It was her guardian after all.

The family’s cat, Calle, had given birth to seven kittens a few weeks prior and Brynn’s mom had tried naming a brown one with spots of white Angel as well. Brynn protested, bringing to attention the name of the more angel-like owl. Her mother understood.

Brynn had also chosen a kitten to keep, an orange one with streaks of light brown. She named him Cheeto after her favorite orange snack.

A few more weeks came with more soccer games won and the kittens growing larger, more playful and adventurous. Brynn and her brother— who was less interested — would take the kittens outside to play in the grass, in which her parents had told her to always be there with the kittens when they were outside. She always was.

One night, with a mouth dried from her room fan, Brynn awoke to rid herself of this unpleasant feeling, and so she crept out from her room, through the prow with the light of a near-full moon pouring through the large windows, and toward the kitchen with its refrigerator harboring cold, refreshing apple juice.

She poured a glass and chugged it down, the feeling instantly quenching her thirst.

A quick glance at the stove clock revealed it was earlier than she thought—12:26 AM— and so Brynn, deciding she was also hungry, went to the pantry and retrieved a pack of pre-packaged toaster pastries, opened them and dropped them in the toaster.

As she waited, Brynn walked over to the sliding door and gazed up to the silver moon, a few large, fluffy clouds frozen in the sky on either side, absorbing the moonlight. Brynn knew owls were active at night, and she half-expected and fully-hoped to see Angel there, soaring up in the sky.

Brynn slid the door open and stepped outside, the late spring air still warm, fresh. But no Angel.

Hearing the toaster pop up, Brynn moved back inside and grabbed her late-night snack, another glass of apple juice, then scurried off to her room; knowing her parents didn’t like her and her brother eating so late.

The next morning, having no school to get up early for— with it finally being Summer break— Brynn strolled, refreshed, out into the prow and caught the strong rays of the sun as they streamed through the morning air and windows, right into her still-adjusting eyes.

As she turned toward the kitchen and dining area, she caught her parents standing at the island. They saw her and gave a faint smile.

“Morning.” Brynn’s father said.

“Morning.” She returned.

“Honey,” Her mom turned to her as she reached the dining table, “Did you leave the sliding door open last night?”

Brynn turned to the door, now closed, and tried to remember the previous night. Angel wasn’t out there today. It was too late in the morning.

“Maybe. I think so.”

“Well, be sure to close it next time.” Her father said.

“Okay. Did something happen? Did one of the kittens go outside?”

Brynn’s mom glanced over to her father, the slightest frown on her face. She opened her mouth to speak but her father did.

“Brynn,” he began, “You remember how birds are like T-rexes?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, do you know what a T-rex would eat?”

“Yeah. other dinosaurs and animals.” Brynn said. She was a good student.

“Animals.” Her father nodded. “Please keep the door closed at night.”

The sound of the front door opening and closing came from behind, Tyler’s footsteps approached.

And as Brynn tried to make sense of what her father meant, Tyler’s voice cut through.

“Angel ate Cheeto, Brynn.”

“What?” Brynn looked to her brother as he passed by, heading toward the kitchen.

“Now you both have the same favorite snack.”

Brynn watched her mom’s jaw drop and eyes widen; her dad’s hand came up to his eyes, rubbing them, followed by a sigh; maybe the subtle hint of a smile too. Then he said, “Well, owl be damned.”

Nobody laughed.

From that day on, Brynn never saw Angel again. But she began to see something else: that Angel wasn’t her guardian, but an angel of predation, of nature... an angel of death, as owls are. Like T-rexes. And she still liked them both.

But she never touched a Cheeto again.