Birdzilla

March 29, 2011

It was a beautiful sunny Tuesday afternoon. How could I possibly know what the day would hold? I was with my son at the high school, sitting in our parked van while we waited for my daughter to finish drama rehearsal after school. As we chatted amiably about the day, suddenly there was an ominous tap-tap-tapping sound just above our heads.

"What was that, Nicholas?"

Taptaptaptaptap.

"What IS that?"

Taptaptaptap.

Nicholas' eyes suddenly grew wide. "BIRDZILLA! It's Birdzilla on the roof of the van!" By way of confirmation, a beady Birdzilla eye and razor sharp beak appeared in the window just over Nicholas' shoulder. His window was closed, thankfully, but mine was open. What if he decided to inspect the inside of the van? I urged Nicholas to jump out of the car while we allowed Birdzilla to pace disdainfully up and down the length of the roof. Perhaps he would get bored and move on to another vehicle--perhaps an unoccupied one.

We eased the doors open and slid out. Birdzilla eyed us suspiciously, taking a few menacing steps toward us. He wanted company, and wasn't ready to release us just yet. "Go ahead and stay right there," I said. "We'll just be over here, waiting." Birdzilla looked at me bemusedly, as if to say, "You may stay over there. I wish to deal with The Boy." And he turned his piercing gaze on Nicholas.

Nicholas was not to be intimidated, however. He stood his ground, offering up kind words and a friendly smile. He spoke the words that reached to Birdzilla's soul. He found, in Birdzilla, a friend, a companion. Birdzilla needn't exercise dominion over this boy; he could instead befriend him. And for a time, Birdzilla lost his silent, ominous demeanor, playfully interacting and communicating with his new found friend. They were mesmerized with each other.

I, on the other hand, kept my distance. Majestic and powerful as he appears, that bird still pretty much freaks me out.