Gifts Of A Bluejay

Chapter 1

The bluejay from my childhood was staring back at me from my third floor apartment window.

Red freckles splattered across its cheeks, making it stand out from other bluejays I had encountered; a long black feather hanging from its beak.

Once a week as a child and into my teenage years, this specific bluejay would leave me gifts on my windowsill. It could be a pebble, a feather, a rock, even scrap metal sometimes. I never knew what the gifts meant, but for whatever reason... They became important. Every week I eagerly waited to see what the bluejay would bring me.

But, after my seventeenth birthday passed,  the bluejay stopped coming. I waited and waited for weeks, but the beautiful bird never showed.

Years had begun to pass and I soon forgot about the bluejay and its weekly gifts. My life had turned busy with graduating high school and going off to college out of state so the bluejay had become nothing but a distant memory.

Eventually, I returned home and found a job close to where I grew up. I never thought I would encounter the bluejay again, but there it was.

Trying not to wake my boyfriend, I gently climbed out of bed and made my way to the foggy window; the morning dew of spring clinging onto the glass.

The bluejay sat motionless as I approached -- just waiting for me to come collect my gift.

Slowly opening the window, the bluejay waited patiently for me to crack it open just enough for him to slip in. At least I assumed it was a he...I didn't actually know. The morning sun shone behind him as he hopped under the open window and laid down the feather in front of him.

I remained motionless, unsure of what to do. It had been so long since I had last seen him that I was afraid to scare him away.

As he waited patiently for me to take his gift, I could hear my boyfriend begin to stir behind me.

"Lilah?" his tired voice made me quickly turn and shield my little feathered friend.

"Hey, Greg. Good morning! How did you sleep?"

"Are you okay?" he asked, confused by my sudden chattiness.

Smiling nervously as I watched him climb out of bed, I hoped he wouldn't see my little friend on the windowsill behind me.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm fine. Just woke up in a good mood I guess." I said, chuckling nervously.

"What are you doing up so early?" Greg crossed the room to our walk-in closet and began rummaging through his clothes.

I turned back around to find the bluejay no longer perched on the windowsill; the black feather lightly blowing in the morning breeze that gently flowed through the cracked window.

Disappointment covered my face as I stared at the empty space where my long forgotten friend once stood.

"I wanted to watch the sun rise." I had lied, but I couldn't tell him about the bluejay. He would probably think I was crazy.

As much as I loved Greg, he was a very judgmental person. Working as criminal justice lawyer, he would probably have me committed for episodes of psychosis.

"You wanted to watch the sun rise?" Greg questioned, exiting the closet in nothing but his boxers. His ear length blonde hair still scruffy from sleep -- covering his bright, ocean blue eyes -- and his muscular frame looking as if it belonged on the cover of a magazine.

Greg was your typical 'pretty boy'. He took more pride in his hair and wardrobe than anything else.

Of course, he was a very talented lawyer as well, but he always tried to hide the fact with modesty; failing every time he tried. Greg was a hotshot and he knew it... and he liked to brag about it.