The Evolution Experiments

PROLOGUE –Max

MY NAME IS MAX. I remember all but nothing from my childhood. And there are no pictures either. There no albums filled with images from my birth, my first birthday, and my first haircut. The only thing I remember from my childhood is a single memory. The thing is, I remember it with perfect accuracy.

My father picks me up off the frost covered ground. I wiggle my three year old toes in my blue boots as he puts me on his shoulders. My mom smiles up at me; I give her a goofy grin back. My dad’s big boots crunch through the icy grass. Even though I call it Mamimo, I love Manito Park. My parents take me here on walks, and I run ahead of them, delighting in whatever the current season has to offer. My favorite place is the pathway into Duncan Gardens with the arches over it. My dad’s tall enough to place me in the branches, and I love to pretend I’m one of the bluejays that live there. Up in the maze of intertwining branches, I play with them; they don’t seem to be afraid. It might be that they are used to me, but even when I first sat amongst them, they never shied away.

            Dad reaches the biggest arch and sets me down. He walks back to my mom and they turn to watch me with the adoring smiles of parents.

            “Tweet, tweet, my little bluejay!” Mom calls up to me.

            At first, I’m scared. Today is the first time my dad hasn’t held me in the branches with his rough and calloused hand a safe haven for my young body. He’s been my nest.

            The branches hold my weight, though, and I gradually become as comfortable as I had been on previous visits, safe in the arms of nature. At once, I begin to build myself a new nest to take the place of my father’s hands. I hardly even remember my parents are there, but every once in a while I glance back to check. They’re always in the same spot, watching, joy spread across their glowing faces. Their cheeks are red from the cold, and I playfully toss snow at them.

            I crawl around, fetching more sticks, and continue to build my nest around me. It takes a while, but I enjoy the work. When I’m done, I beam with pride at my nest and then down at my parents. I sit down in my newly built home and flap my arms like wings. Mom and Dad laugh.

            I turn and notice a bluejay nearby. Every so often it stops to peck at a twig or stick. He slowly approaches, and when he gets close, he pecks my knee and I giggle, and he pecks at me again.

            I play with the bird until it’s time for me to go. I regret leaving this place, where I feel so at home, but my dad pulls me down from the arch, only a few brown leaves still clinging onto it.

            “Bye-bye birdie!” I call.

            I look back as we walk away. The bluejay climbs into my nest and settles down into it. I smile.