Saturday's Story
An abandoned body of a great bird lie there.
Its wingspan stretched about six feet, tip to tip, and it was spread out on the ground.
Its feathers were an array of dull green, purple, blue, with little flecks of gold scattered on the wingtips. Its sharp, pointed beak had a green tip to it. Its eyes were open and a bright green.
“It looks like some sort of hawk, or something.” The first driver’s southern accent came through. He was tall and had a baseball cap on his head.
“It’s nothing I’ve seen before.” The second one marveled. His accent was neutral and he wore a brown suit. “What are we supposed to call for this?” He asked.
“I dunno.” A shrug. “Wildlife Services?”
“That sounds right.”
The first driver whistled.
“Sure is big.”
“Yeah.” The second driver nodded as he dialed a number on his phone. He put it to his ear and listened, pushing a few numbers along the way. “Hello, yes I’d like to report…”
As the citizen spoke on the phone, the first driver approached the body of the hawk-like bird. It was spread out with its back to the starry night sky. He slowly placed a hand on its wing, like an appraiser handling an antique or a priest inspecting a religious artifact. Two blue and purple wing feathers fluttered to the tips of the grass below. He picked them up with a cautious reverence.
“They’ll be over here in half an hour.” The man in a suit reported. “What are you doing?”
“Here.” One feather held out in his hand.
“… Thanks.” He took it and held it up to the light.
“My name’s Hunter Pope.” The first driver stuck out his right hand. “Good to meet you.”
The other driver shook his hand.
“Henry Princeton. Likewise.” He smiled.
A green truck owned by the Wildlife Services rolled up to the site. As the ranger hopped out of the car, he found two men laughing and talking as if they were brothers. They reported what they saw to the ranger and drove off in separate directions.