Joe and I stayed on the porch and played three games of checkers. One by one, Chief’s guests came out and said their ‘laters.’ All except Aunty, Uncle Mort and Mike, who were staying over for supper. In the yard the pup played alone. He jumped and dived after things that blew by him. Me and Joe kept an eye on him while he was out there, but he seemed to know where his yard ended. I’d have to teach him about how to dig up the flowerbeds next door later.

We were halfway into our fourth game when it showed up. It flew on a current of air, not pushing down with its wings at all. It coasted to the tree Hoove was hung from and perched on the very same branch. Once there, it shrieked. 

Joe didn’t even notice it. But Black Jack started to stalk around the bottom of the tree. The bird turned to him and smiled. It put its wings out and flapped while still holding the branch. Its black, cold eyes looked straight at my dog. Then it turned them on me. Again it smiled and all a sudden I felt a cold breath of wind blow against my cheek. In the trees just at the end of the yard, fog billowed up along the ground.

“Joe?” I said, keeping my eyes on the bird.

“What is it, sis?” Joe asked. I could tell by the sound of his voice he was still staring at the game board.

“Go get my slingshot.”

“What?”The bird screeched louder and through the corner of my eye I watched Joe glance at it. “What do you want that for?”

“Just get it for me please, Joe,” I begged him. “It’s in the far right corner drawer on top.”

“Sure, okay,” he said and left me alone with the bird.

I stared at it, sharpening my attention until all I could see was one eye, black and full of hate and anger. The wind blew up its feathers, attracting my attention. The sun was turning the dark black feathers red and blue where it hit. Between them I saw the others. They were all there ... watching. The bird screeched again and beat its wings. It jumped into the air and flew in wide circles around my dog. It’s wings flapping loudly, sounding like the school house flag during a cyclone. On the ground its shadow spun and the pup chased it around the yard. At one point the pup jumped into the air, his teeth clenching, but the bird stayed just far enough above. It coasted high, banking a turn along the front of the woods. Then suddenly, it shifted directions and swooped at the dog, its feet full out it’s claws reaching for Jack.

Black Jack saw them too. He ran for the porch, ducking low when the bird dove down farther, each time the bird barely missed him.

“Here, Jack!”

Again the bird swooped, Jack rolled out of the way in time and the bird just missed his ears. He was back on his feet as the bird circled higher to get the air it needed for another dive. Jack ran full out until he was at my side. He squeezed between my legs and the steps.

The bird was in its fourth dive and almost on Jack by then. He was coming close, this time its feet out for me. I saw the feet and looked the bird in the eyes. They were so cold. All around me the fog circled in from the woods. I looked the bird in the eyes as hard and fierce as I could. I used the cold look Chief uses when he’s really angry.

“Get away,” I said, my teeth clenched and my jaw set tight. “I’ll kill you,” I gritted out at it.

The bird shifted in the air and floated calmly back to the tree. It walked the length of the branch. Back and forth it went. Laughing.

Joe came back with my slingshot and some marbles to use as ammo.

“What’re ya gonna do with it?”

“Thanks, Joe.” 

I knew it wouldn’t fly away as long as I held it with my will, the same way I’d known Aunty and Uncle Mort got hitched. I just knew. I loaded the slingshot with a marble, my lucky marble. Every game I every won big, I’d used that marble. It was clear blue glass and reminded me of Sam’s bright blue eyes. I pointed it at the bird.

“What’re you doing?” Joe asked.

The bird saw what was coming, but it didn’t believe I’d do it. It stopped pacing along the branch and stared at me- hard, trying to bend me to its own will. Even its screeching stopped. Its eyes pulled at me again as it tried to measure its control on me. But I shoved it down and took aim.

“Kel!”

I let the marble fly before my brother had a shot at stopping me. It flew through the air straight at the bird. I followed along with it. It felt like I was riding that blue bullet to its mark. The marble hit the bird square into one of its black-pit eyes. It splattered its brains all over the back of the tree. The bird crashed to the ground with a dead thump.

Black Jack came out of hiding. He watched the bird from the steps first, then ventured into the yard after it.

“Joe stop him!” I yelled, not wanting my dog close to the bird’s darkness. “Stop him!”

Joe tried but Jack was too fast and slippery. He went right up to where the bird lay in the yard. He circled it and sniffed the air around it. Then he jumped back and yelped before running as fast as his little legs could go, back to me. The puppy was shaking by the time he got there. I took him into my lap and held him tight.

Joe looked at the bird, then at the dog. He looked up at me. “What is it, Kel? I never saw a dog back off like that. What is it?”

“It’s the bird Joe. It’s the one that kept calling the tiger. I sent it back to the Dead Place.”

Joe’s jaw dropped. He looked again at the bird and went to it.

“No, Joe!” I screamed. “Don’t touch it!”

Joe reached for it.

“Joe!”

I turned around at the voice. It belonged to Chief. He was standing just behind me by the back door. Uncle Mort stood next to him.

“Don’t touch it, son. Get a sack and the rake from the shed.”

Joe nodded and left after taking one more look at the thing in our yard.

Chief came over to me, bringing Uncle Mort with him.

“What happened out here?” he asked. “We heard all the shouting.”

Uncle Mort went into the yard and to the bird. He kept away as he looked at it.

Chief sat next to me and put his arm around my shoulder. After first looking over at Uncle Mort and the bird he turned to me and asked again, “What happened?”

“The bird from the Dead Place. It came after Black Jack–”

“Black Jack?”

I nodded at the dog.

“Oh,” Chief whispered. He looked at the bird. “How did it come after him?”

“It swooped down on him, and tried to kill him with its claws.”

Joe came back with the sack and the rake.

“Don’t let them touch it, Chief.,”

Chief looked over at Uncle Mort. “Hold up on that, Mort, okay?”

Uncle Mort nodded.

“Then what happened, pumpkin?”

“It was gettin’ real cold. And the fog was coming in. The fog of the Dead Place, Chief. It tried to trap me. So I sent Joe to get my slingshot. He even brought down my lucky marble. I used it to send it back to the Dead Place.”

“I see,” Chief said quiet like. “And the fog went away?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you sure this is the same bird?”

“I saw.”

“What did you see?”

“I saw the hate in its eyes, Chief. And all the eyes under its feathers. It was them all right. The white people.”

“And you sent them back?”

I nodded.

Chief smiled. “Let’s take a look.”

“But Chief–”

“It’s all right, honey. Take hold.” 

I let the pup go and reached for my father. He lifted me into his arms and we went to where Uncle Mort and Joe waited.

“Notice anything strange?” Uncle Mort asked Chief when we got there.

“What’s that smell?”

“It smells like it’s been dead a lot longer than a few minutes,” Uncle Mort said back.

“I’ve never seen a raven that big around here before. My god it must be about three and a half feet tall- what do you think? About forty pounds?” Chief told him. 

“At least,” Uncle Mort said. “And we have seen one this size, Bob.”

Chief shifted me in his arms. “Kate’s 25th birthday party.”

Uncle Mort nodded. “Went after the kittens in your father’s barn.”

“I remember,” Chief said and turned to Joe. “Joe, hand me the rake.”

Joe did so. Chief shifted me in his arms so that his right arm was free. He took the rake and with the metal end, lifted up the bird’s feathers.

“Jesus!” shot Uncle Mort. “Look at that!”

The smell was getting worse and it was hard to look. But we did.

“My god,” Chief whispered. “Forget the sack. Joe there’s a gas can next to the wall in the shed. Next to the tool chest.”

“I saw it.”

“Go get it, please, son.”

Joe nodded and again went off to the shed.

“Let me get this straight,” Uncle Mort said. “You just killed this with your slingshot?”

“Yes, sir.”

He squinted and turned to Chief. “I’ve never seen decomposition like this in a fresh kill before, Bob. Look at all those maggots will you. Jesus! And the stench.”

“That’s not the half of it Mort, it’s decomposing as we speak.”

It almost looked like the bird was melting. The bugs inside of it were feeding on its meat. It started to get bigger, like it was a balloon and someone was blowing it up. 

Joe came back with the gas can and handed it to Chief.

“Thanks, son,” Chief said, “but let your uncle do the honors.”

Uncle Mort took the can from Joe and poured the gas on the dead bird. When the gas was all gone, he handed it back to Joe. Then Uncle Mort dug into his shirt pocket and pulled loose a matchbox and after lighting one of the matches, he threw it on the bird.

The air made a big whoompth. It sounded like hundreds of tiny screams when it did. A fireball started from the ground and flew into the air. Then the bird started to hiss. The smoke turned blue first, then red. I saw things in the smoke and I saw the white people screaming as they danced. Then they were gone. The smoke turned black and thick.

“Did you see that?” Chief asked my uncle.

“See what?”

“You didn’t see?” Chief turned to Joe. “Did you, son?”

“I saw the firebomb, Chief and the colored smoke–”

“In the smoke,” Chief cut in. “You didn’t see them in the smoke?”

“He couldn’t, Chief,” I let him know. “Neither could Uncle Mort.”

Chief turned to me. “Why is that, pumpkin?”

“They weren’t there. In the Dead Place. You can only see them if you were ever there.”

“Oh,” Chief said staring at the bird smoking in our yard. Blue-green fire fringed the yellow flames. “We’ll let that burn out before we do anything with the rest of it.”

“That’s a good idea. I don’t think anyone should go near that thing for a while,” Uncle Mort said.

We left the bird burning in the yard and went back to the porch. Black Jack was still sitting on the steps when we got there. He looked up and feebly wagged his tail.

“What’s going on out there?” Miss Elly said out the window.

“Kelly just killed a bird in the yard,” Chief told her.

“What?” she said and looked at me sharp.

“I’ll fill you in, El,” he told her.

“Well, supper’s ready. Time for everyone to come in and eat.”

“We’ll be right there,” Chief said and carried me inside the house and plopped me into the wheeled chair just to the right of the door. He turned to Joe. “Son, go take your sister to the bathroom to wash up for supper.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Joe grabbed the handles on the back of my chair. He wheeled me to the bathroom at the front of the house, then pushed me up to the sink. Only the sink was too high for me to use from the chair.

“I can’t reach, Joe.”

“I can see that.” He took the cloth from the peg just right of the sink, and drenched it in water. Then he ran the cloth over the bar of soap until it turned white.

“Give me your hands, Kel.” 

He rubbed them down with the cloth real good, then did his own. When he was through, he rinsed all the soap off the cloth with the water in the pitcher and used the plain water to get the soap off my hands. When we were through drying off, Joe wheeled me back to the kitchen where Uncle Mort and Chief were telling Miss Elly and Aunty about what happened to the bird.

I heard the front door open up and Mike and Maggy coming down the hall. Mike showed up at the kitchen first, he had a green bottle in his hand and he handed it over to Chief.

“I’ve been saving this Bordeaux since the wedding, Boss. I was going to give it to you both then, but due to the change of plans, I decided to hold off and wait for another special occasion.”

“1921 Rothschild,” Chief said reading the front of the bottle. “Not bad, Mike.” Chef handed the bottle to Miss Elly and she left to put it on the table in the dining room.

“Well if you wanted a special occasion,” Uncle Mort said. “You sure got one.”

Mike turned to him. “What do you mean?” He looked at Chief for a spell, then turned back to Uncle Mort. “Did I miss something?”

Chief smiled. He shot a look at me. “Tell him honey.”

I swallowed hard before telling him: “I killed the bird, Mike. I sent it back to the Dead Place. Without it, they can’t find me. Not until they find a way to bring it back. That’ll take them a piece of time.”

Mike smiled at me, before turning to Chief. “No kidding?”

“It was more than just a bird, Mike. You should have seen it. Most impressive.”

“Why? What did it do?”

Miss Elly stuck her head into the kitchen from the dining room. “That’s enough,” she said. “Supper’s getting cold in here. You can continue this discussion in there.” She turned to Chief. “Capise?”

Chief grinned.

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