The Last Song

​His eyes opened at the sudden light that flickered on around him.  The room was as cold as ever, but the glow of the red lamp kept one spot of his cage warm.  He tucked his head down, not particularly eager to begin another day.  The woman appeared in the doorway, and he closed his eyes again, puffing his blue feathers to keep the warmth in.  She wouldn’t open the cage for another few minutes.  The lab assistant always took her time washing her hands, pulling on the turquoise gloves and preparing her tools.

​He wasn’t fond of this routine.  He’d rather stay asleep under the lamp, but he’d gotten used to it.  At least when she’d finished, he’d be fed.  Peeking one eye open, he watched her.  She tucked a strand of dark hair behind one ear with turquoise, sterile hands as she brought up the computer screen.  She turned to face the cage, her mouth in a tight smile.

​It had been weeks since his companions had left.  One by one, she lifted them up and took them out the door.  They called back to him, terrified, begging for help, but all he could do was cry back in response as they vanished into the unknown beyond the room.  They never came back.

​Now he was lazy and bored, unable to muster the energy to get up and inspect the items she’d left to amuse him.  He remembered green things and an almost lost song.  The call of the others all around him, filling the air with their chatter and melodies.  The smell of dirt, of blossoms and of decay.  But it had been a lifetime ago that the memories had faded into something unreal.  Imagined.

​She looked at him strangely as she opened the cage.  Typically, she smiled, squinting her eyes with genuine affection and lifted him out with a firm but gentle grip.  She’d pull each wing out to one side, one at a time, exposing each blue and red feather.  She’d make a note, run a finger from his head to his back, pushing gently.  She’d inspect each leg, checking each toe.  But today, as she held him, the smile faded, and her breath was shallow.  He’d only ever seen that expression before she’d scoop one of them up to disappear behind the walls.  He wondered where they’d gone that they couldn’t return from, and what they’d done wrong.

​What had he done?  She pressed her lips together in a tight line.  Her eyes shimmered, bright in the florescence of the room and she sniffed.  He cocked his head to one side, bringing a shaky chuckle from her mouth.

​She placed him gingerly back in the cage, closed the door and rested her forehead against the horizontal bars that separated them.  She was close enough that he could have touched her face with his beak.  A drop of water cascaded down her tanned cheek.  He’d never seen that before and he hopped closer to her, curious.

​“You have been so good, and I’m so sorry,” she murmured, more water pooling around her eyes.  Her breath shuddered.  Was she sick?  He didn’t understand.  

​She rose and turned her back to him, crossing the room with several quick strides.  She removed a small device from her pocket and placed it to her ear.

​“Yes, this is Dr. Patel.  It’s happened,” she said softly, clearing her throat.  She sniffled, rubbing her sleeve across her nose.

​“I’m positive.  The skin around eyes has darkened to black just like the others.  He only has about a day once this symptom has begun.  By tonight he’ll be fatigued and fall asleep.  At least it will be painless,” she said, her pitch higher as she finished her sentence.  She grew silent, her body tensing.  He didn’t understand what she’d said, but she was clearly distressed.  If he could only figure out what he’d done wrong, he could try to fix it.  She hadn’t fed him like usual.  The bowl remained empty, and he eyed it hoping she’d finish whatever she was doing and fill it.  He was starving.  A sound in her throat brought his attention back to her.  She was crying, but he didn’t recognize the noise.  He’d never heard her do that before.

​“I know.  I tried.  I really tried.  This is all my fault.  We were supposed to solve this,” she whimpered.  There was silence, only broken by the occasional sniffle.  She straightened abruptly, scoffing.

​“Shut up!  Of course, I’m crying!  We were so close!  How is it that we were able to manage wiping out every species of mosquito with the disease, but not the disease itself?  I was so sure that this last injection would work.  That it would finally stop the spreading.  All that hard work, for nothing!” she snapped.  After a long while she sighed, running a hand down her face.

​“I understand.  I’ve done each one of them, remember?  I’ll euthanize, collect specimens and incinerate, but I don’t see a point anymore.  There’s no one left for him to infect.  I just can’t believe we failed.  It just does not feel real.  Yes.  I understand,” she said, her voice heavy and heartbroken.  A few seconds passed, and she lowered the device to her side.  She spared a glance over her shoulder at him, a pause and then her face crumpled.  Her eyes squeezed closed as she sank to the floor, covering her mouth.  She sobbed, titling her face back to stare at the ceiling.

​“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, taking in a deep breath.  He watched her for a long time, forgetting how hungry he was.  He felt tired, but whatever was happening kept him wide awake.  She let out a long breath and rose from the floor.  With her head bowed, she approached his cage once more.  Was it time for food now?

​He hopped expectantly towards the opening, but anxiety filled him at her tense, ridged form.  Finally, she looked at him.

​“You have been so good.  You survived longer than anyone else.  I really thought you were going to make it.  That you would be the answer,” she said softly.  An expression passed across her face, and suddenly she was tugging off the gloves, browed furrowed.  She unlatched the door, reached her hands inside and hovered them just above him, a dome of darkness around body.  He could smell her skin.  It smelled of mint and something chemical.  She encompassed him slowly with her bare hands, a gasp escaping her.  She ran her fingers across his feathers, until she’d cupped him between both hands.  Lifting him out of the cage, he saw her eyes staring at him with such intensity and love that he was confused.

​“I wish I could have saved you,” she whispered, wet cheeked and red faced.  She pulled him against her chest, another startlingly unfamiliar gesture and began to walk.  He tensed, unsure whether he should attempt to fly back to his cage or not.  She was walking towards the door.  Wherever she was taking him, he knew he would never see his home again.  This place that he had spent an eternity, staring at the wall, surrounded by others in cages.  He missed them even though it had been forever ago that the last one had gone through this very door.  He shut his eyes, longing for the warmth of the red lamp.  The routine.  The knowledge of exactly what would happen next, and the soothing dreams of feelings he couldn’t fully remember.

​The hitching of her breath had stopped.  Her face was set and determined.  She shut off the light behind her and entered an entirely new area.  It was a frigid hallway with many doors.  But she didn’t walk towards any of them.  Instead, she turned to the end of the hallway that ended with a red door.  Her steps were quick, his body jostling slightly against her hand.  When they reached the door, she flung it open.  A blast of hot air enveloped them.  The sky was pink above them, a dim light rising far away.  The smell of grass entered his nose.  He breathed deep, perplexed by the familiar sight that had been absorbed by distant memory.  Green.  Green everywhere, and wind that lifted leaves while it carried too many smells to register.  He couldn’t move, but he wanted to fling himself into it.

​Home.

​This was home.  This had always been home.  Locked away for so long, he’d forgotten this vast expanse of everything living and wonderful.  

​She pulled him close as she kept walking until she reached the edge of trees beyond the building.  She glanced all around, and then bent her head towards her hands.

​“I’ll tell you a secret, since you’ll be the only one to hear.  I couldn’t bring myself to kill any of your friends.  It just wasn’t, well…it wasn’t right.  We were trying to save you.  Not torture you.  The least I could do was let all of you go home while it happens.  While it ends.  I couldn’t leave you alone in a freezing room with a painful needle.  Scared until the world went dark,” she said softly, running her finger from his head to his tail.

​She opened her hands, releasing him from her grasp.  He was hesitant to go.  The world was bigger than he remembered, more intense than the room from before.  But it was warm, and he could hear insects that he could practically taste already.  He peered up at her again, seeing her smile.

​“Time to go,” she whispered.  

​He spread his wings wide, testing them, feeling the tension release in his joints.  He fluttered, and then flapped.  He swung down hard, finding that he hadn’t forgotten at all.  The muscle memory kicked in and he was airborne, shooting high away from her.  He swooped in a circle around her head, a last goodbye to the person who had cared for him.

​Elation filled his mind.  Sensations of sound, scents and light flooded his brain.  It was ecstasy.  Pure joy.  He soared over the trees and water.  He titled back and forth through air currents, his feathers tickling in the breeze.  It was like one of his dreams made real.  

​The sun rose on the horizon, light pouring across a lake below him, transforming the water into liquid gold.  He alighted on a branch just above the water, finding a cluster of flies buzzing below.  With one quick swoop, he’d caught an entire mouthful.  Juicy and wonderful, his belly filling with something far better than hard seeds.  Each sight was brand new as he explored, his curious brain not quite satiated.  But this was his life now.  He had forever to discover everything.  He spent the whole day soaring through the woods, brushing the water’s surface with his feet.

​When he had tired, he settled in the nook of a branch to watch fish bobbing in and out of the water.  The sun set, the sky reminding him of the lamp glowing back in his cage.  It was only then that he realized the thing that had been missing all day during his exploring.  The birdsong.  His friends.  Where were they?  He hadn’t heard their melodies, but he’d been too occupied with each new discovery that he hadn’t noticed.  The air was silent.  He listened hard, but the only noise was the sound of the trees rustling in the wind, and the contented communications of insects.  No one called in the distance.  

​He sat up, swishing his head back and forth and let out a chirrup.  Nothing.  He called louder.  No response.  He sang a tune of greeting, shakily inviting but friendly.  Silence.

​He settled uneasily back into his branch, unnerved by the emptiness.  The sky had darkened to an inky black with tiny spots of light speckled across it.  The hot breeze lifted his feathers and he nestled further down.  He would look for them tomorrow.  His heart was happy, his belly full, and he felt safe. His head bobbed with exhaustion.  He dozed. He didn’t want to fall asleep, but a calm washed over him.  His eyelids closed, he breathed deep, and was finally free.

​Below, a fat tabby cat turned his dark, black rimmed eyes up at the branch from a tuft of tall grass.  He lay on his side, contemplating whether he would eat this one now or later.  There had been only a few of the little things, but they had been eaten by the other cats once they had fallen from their trees, stopped breathing and became still.  There had been too many cats before, too much competition, and food had been scarce.  But the others had vanished one by one.  In their absence, there was more food than he could manage.  This one belonged to him.  Rolling onto his back to look at the sky, he decided that he was too tired to bother just now.  Maybe tomorrow he’d think about it.