Kahoot x Reader

Chapter 29

When Toohak was seven, he had a fascination with birds. His mom though it stemmed from the time that they nursed the sparrow that dived beak first into their widow back to health, but really he just liked them because they could fly. They'd lift off the ground and glide into the sky freely as he watched from his bedroom, going higher and higher until their feathers blurred with the leaves on treetops and with black telephone lines. Toohak's eyes would gleam.

That Christmas he asked for a pair of wings. He got toys instead.

Toohak bounced back quickly. New plan. His birthday wasn't around the corner, but never the less he had a new item on his wish-list: his own pet bird.

"Please please pleeeaaasseeee?" Toohak asked for the fifth time that morning.

"We are not getting a bird. Would you even take care of it?" His mom, Phillipa, was wrist deep in soapy water, washing the dishes from breakfast. "Would you feed it? Clean the cage?"

Toohak nodded fast, his chin jerking up and down without stop. He pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and shoved it in her face.

"Yeah, look!" A lopsided sketch in green crayon is on the page. "I'd put the cage here and the food there, and I'd feed him in the morning and at night, and I'd clean the cage everyday."

He looked so bright that she couldn't help but smile back at him. It was a sad smile, though. "That's a really nice drawing. But sorry, Toohak. My answer is no."

It took two months of begging - two seven year olds months, imagine - until his mom Phillipa finally gave in.

"And here it is." The sales girl adjusted the cage, bringing it closer to them. "Our only parrot."

Toohak had specifically requested him. All birds are good birds in his opinion, but one that can talk? Now, that's something special. Toohak wondered if he already knew some words. But before he could ask, the parrot answered for him.

"Puta," the bird squawked, fluttering its wings. Toohak tilted his head.

"What's he saying?"

"We don't know. Probably something in Spanish. One of the high school's foreign exchange students here smuggled him in from Mexico." She shook her head. "In her guy friend's purse, can you believe it?"

"Cool," Toohak whispered. He raised himself onto his tippy toes to see closer. The bird's wings were vibrant, painted in reds and blues and yellows that rippled together. It  hopped along one of the bars, a bounce in its step that drew the boy in like a magnet. Toohak loved him already.

"So? What do you think?" his mom asked.

Toohak's smile was answer enough.

While his mom finished paying, Toohak watched the koi fish in the pond. Their floor was buried in both shiny and dull coins, glinting in the light. Each one a wish. He reached into his pocket, the pennies jingling as they moved around, and he flipped one into the pond, a soft 'plop' as it sunk down to the bottom. He made the same wish he did every time. But his other mom never came back to life. Even after emptying his whole piggy bank in the park fountain that one time, all he was left with was an empty metal tin, so he assumes the whole wish thing was a hoax. Maybe the fish get the wishes.

His mom put all of the bird's supplies in the trunk of the car. She was going to put the cage in the front seat, but Toohak had insisted on holding it.

"I'm gonna name him Quizlet." Toohak exclaimed, hugging the cage closer on his tiny lap.

"Puta," Quizlet squawked.

***

Mr. Adams was the only one opposed to Quizlet. He didn't like animals and animals didn't like him, so they tended to have an understanding of staying out of each other's way. This parrot didn't get the memo.

It started out harmlessly. The parrot laughing in squawks when he stubbed his toe. Mocking him as he cussed. Calling him petty names he picked up from the shows Toohak watched.

But Mr. Adams snapped when he found larvae in his salad. Squirmy, leggy little things, slipping down pieces of dressing-drenched lettuce like slides.

"Oh, god." His fork clattered against his porcelain bowl. "That's - that's disgusting. Phillipa. Phillipa!"

Toohak's head peeked around the corner. "What?"

"There are maggots in my salad." Mr. Adams mouth was slightly ajar and his hands were spread open in his lap. Toohak peered into the bowl.

"Those aren't maggots. They're larvae. Well, they're basically the same thing, but larvae sounds better." Toohak squinted his eyes. "Why are you eating Quizlet's larvae?"

That's when things clicked into place. Squawks of laughter filled the room, and Mr. Adams whipped his head towards the bird cage in the living room. Quizlet's laugh normally sounds like a game show host, but at that moment it sounded like a super-villain, high and echoing as the parrot raised up one claw, nearly falling off of his perch.

Mr. Adams pushed back his chair with a huff and headed over to the cage as Toohak tried to muffle his giggles. "Bad bird."

Mr. Adams couldn't and wouldn't physically hurt it (even he's not that cruel) so he settled on banging against the cage. Quizlet stayed silent, suddenly frozen into place. Mr. Adams kept jostling and pushing the cage, but the bird would just not react. That is, until all of the movement finally unlatched the cage and set the door free.

In a flash Quizlet was out of his cage and in the air, claws aimed for Mr. Adams eye. Many squawks and yells were cried that day.

And that's the story of how Mr. Adams got his face scar.

***

They still had the damn parrot. Every time Mr. Adams mentions how he can't wait for it to die, Toohak cheerfully reminds him that, on average, parrots live to be about 50 years old. Sometimes even 100. How wonderful.