Like An Apple Tree

T H I R T E E N

Four pairs of little eyes stared up at the cardinal standing on the edge of the nest. She had a spider and fed one of them. Mr. Cardinal soon joined her with some more food and fed the birds, too. Even after taking the food, they still cried out with their high-pitched voices. They were still hungry for more.

"They are very eager to be fed, aren't they?" she observed.

"Indeed they are. Now you stay here with them; I'll go find more food." And he was off.

Mrs. Cardinal scavenged the bush for more bugs. Much to her disappointment, and the chicks, she didn't find anything. She sighed and waited for her husband to come back. Listening to the cries of the four chicks, she tried to comfort them.

"Don't worry, little ones, your father will be back with food soon," she cooed. The chicks quieted, but not completely.

After a few minutes, he came back with more food and fed them quickly. Then they calmed down and slept in a tight pile.

"They'll probably be back and awake again soon. So I'm going to find more food in advance. Stay with them," he flew away before she could respond.

"Oh, sweet little chicks," she whispered affectionately. They looked so cozy in their pile.

Mr. Cardinal flew about the trees, collecting bugs and insects in his beak. He took his time; there was no rush because they were asleep. He enjoyed the peace and let his mind wander.

Soon, these four will be old enough to fly. Once they can, they'll be all over the place, he thought. I wonder what it'll be like scaring them all away into the world. Just like my father did to me.

He flew to another tree on a corner of the property. He pecked at the ants crawling on its rough bark.

He looked up and around for other bugs. He saw a big, round caterpillar sitting on a branch above him. So he jumped up. In one quick motion, he slowed, turned, and took the soft-skinned caterpillar in his beak. Soon he was going to have to go back and drop off all that he found, as he wouldn't be able to hold anything more.

A bird jumped down on the same branch. It cocked its head, blinking its dark eyes. It was a little, brown bird. It was a wren. The wren that had destroyed the last brood. It smiled.

Mr. Cardinal, alarmed, just about dropped the food he was holding. He flew away quickly. The crest on his head was raised.

Landing on the edge of the nest, he dropped all of the food into a pile next to the slumbering chicks.

"What's wrong? What happened?" Mrs. Cardinal asked, seeing that her husband seemed frightened. Her eyes widened.

"I saw the wren, and came back here," he stated quickly. "It was in that tree over there." He looked over at the corner of the property.

"Let's be glad nothing terrible happened," she pointed out.

A few days after the chicks had hatched, the two brothers strode out of the house with their guns. They looked confident, laughing as they spoke with each other. The older brother, a teenager, was in charge.

They came upon the barn and disappeared inside. After a while, there were some loud gunshots. Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal wondered what they were shooting. More birds? A bigger, more intimidating animal? They did not have any idea.

It was around noon when they came out. Mr. Cardinal flew across the yard to investigate, and saw what they had been shooting. It saddened him.

In the older boy's hands, he not only held his gun but three squirrels. Their coats were torn up from the bullets and bloodied. It was a terrible mess.

The boy patted his little brother on the back, then walked over to the field. They then threw each body as far as they could. It made Mr. Cardinal upset that they were making a game out of it.

They went inside to go clean up, and Mr. Cardinal went and told Mrs. Cardinal what he had seen. She was also upset. The squirrels reminded her of Pip and Pepper.

The girl was still doing her thing, shooting all the birds. The grackles and sparrows were fearful and hid most of the time. Any time that the cardinal would talk to one, they seemed overly alert, jittery, and quiet.

"Quiet yourself, she might hear you," they would always say. The cardinals felt bad for them; they wondered what it would be like to live in such fear of a teenage girl.

One day, the cardinals sat together, watching over their sleeping young. Mr. Cardinal heard the girl walking by. She took a moment to stop and admire the little chicks before she passed.

She heard the wren, who was still in the tree. He was trilling. But he didn't notice the girl stalking him.

She loaded her gun and watched the little bird for a moment. The cardinals observed the situation silently, not making a move.

She aimed. And then pulled the trigger. The wren fell from his branch with a screech. He did not die. She aimed again and shot his head. He was dead.

The wren was gone.