And we all looked up from where we had been enjoying playing in the swimming pool with friends we'd met for a playdate. Indeed, the bird was acting strangely: walking, not flying, squawking, chasing. Strange bird. And so we suggested to the lifeguard that he call animal control. Maybe the bird was hurt (his beak looked odd). Maybe it was rabid (can birds be rapid?).
The bird then demonstrated it could fly, low and uncertainly, over our heads in the pool, landing not far from where Sis and I stood. It began charging her and so I grabbed her with one hand, while splashing water at it with the other. This was a dangerous bird. But it didn't like water and took off to the top of the pool house.
But it came back, coming within inches of a newly arrived woman who had not seen the bird chase the lifeguard or swoop down on Sis. And still the lifeguard hadn't been able to reach animal control or a supervisor who could tell him what to do; he was avoiding calling 911. Which I understand. I mean, what would you say? "Our emergency? It's a bird."
This bird was right out of Poe or Hitchcock, though. It wasn't huge but it was determined and had sharp claws and a pointed beak. And it made another low pass at the pool. At which point, Sis was done. She started keening and begging to go home. The bird departed again; out of sight, but not out of mind. So we packed up and headed to the playground. Which was just not far enough away for Sis who didn't stop keening til we got in the car and drove away.
This is the end of the story of us and the bird, but not the end of the playdate which continued with snacks and puppet-painting at our house. It might, though, be the end of our trips to the pool, of which this was the very first. I'm just not sure when I'll be able to ease Sis's mind about that bird.
Quoth the girl, "Nevermore."
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