“Bwaeek!” I beat my wings and tried to fly, but a man threw a cloth bag over my head.
I recognized Jensen’s gravelly voice. “Stop there right there, Ronstone.”
“You going to make me? This bird’s worth a fortune.” Ronstone guffawed. “People will pay big money to hear her talk!”
“Give her back.”
“Uggh! Ufmf!” They men scuffled and threw me off to one side. The bag was knotted. I couldn’t fly out.
“You’ll pay for this, Ronstone.”
“Really? What happened to selling a cure to the ghost plant? Molly is still digging around in the dirt. Told you she was worthless. The bird is mine!”
“I’m warning you.”
“I don’t need you, especially with this talking bird.”
I heard Jensen cry and fall to the ground with a thud. A rock crashed not far from where I lay. I heard Jensen cry out, “I’m hurt!”
Then everything happened quickly. Ronstone swung me over his head and onto his horse, and tied the bag with me to his belt. He poked at me with his fingers. “Hello, little birdie. You still in there? We’re going to do great things together.”
Mile after mile, I remained in darkness, dazed and bewildered. I fell asleep to the sound of his horses hooves. We moved farther away from my being able to help Samuel and Cleo. I called out in Wallaree hoping other birds would hear, but my voice was muffled inside my cloth prison. I bounced back and forth and smelled Ronstone’s acrid odor the sweat of his horse, wondering how I could escape. There was nothing I could do. Not now. Not yet.
We stopped. I heard Ronstone talk to people who welcomed him home. He dismounted and unsaddled his horse. “You hear me, birdie? We’re going to make a mountain of money.” He brought me into his cabin. I heard him open and close shelves, pushing things around until he found what he wanted, thrust his hand inside the bag and pulled me out, pitched me into a rusted cage. But at least I could see. “Welcome to your new home. C’mon, birdie. Say something. Polly want a cracker?” I didn’t budge. “If I feed you, do you promise to talk?” I stayed silent.
There were a few frayed feathers at the bottom of the cage, a dead cricket stuck between its bars. I was so hungry, eating at Ruby’s would’ve seemed like a four-course meal. “Yes.”
“Good!” He seemed genuinely pleased and placed me on a table near a window where I could see outside, and delivered not only crickets, but an assortment of seeds, grass, and juicy worms. I was glad to see a capful of fresh water. “Drink up.”
Feeling refreshed by food and able to satisfy my thirst, I pretended to go along with his scheme to travel throughout the countryside with me. “What will people think when they see this filthy cage?”
“What’s wrong with it?” He seemed hurt. ” A hummingbird used to live there.”
The idea of hummingbird cooped up in this rusty prison appalled me. “For starters, the perches are filthy? And look at the floor. It’s covered with you-know-what. Might have been fine for some no-name hummingbird, but I need a place befitting a talking bird.” I looked to see if my words had their desired effect.
“You’re right! Thank you little birdie. I’ll go to the Cruston dump and see what I can find.”
He came home with a larger cage, sanded the perches, lined the bottom with butcher paper, and arranged for a few twigs and blades of grass. “We need a name for our act? I know! Ronstone and His Talking Bird?” He danced around the floor. “You’re a good-looking bird, but maybe you’d like to wear a cape or headdress? I’ll see about that also.”
I only wanted him to open the cage door and let me fly out. “Don’t you think we should rehearse ?”
The idea struck him between the eyes. “Such a clever bird.” He wagged his fingers, squeezing them between the bars.. “How about I say something like, Ronstone’s such a smart fellow, he’s taught a bird how to talk, and then you repeat the same words?”
“No, that won’t work.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll just be repeating everything like a parrot. Not that I have anything against parrots, but I’m a conversationalist, not a repetitivist. Why don’t you have a member of the audience ask me a question, and I can answer?”
“Brilliant!” He opened the cage to reward me with seeds. I saw my chance. I pecked his hand and flapped my wings, but in the last moment, he grabbed me by the throat. “Don’t try that again.” He locked me inside. “Home sweet home, little birdie.”