Sky by Ondine Sherman

Author:Ondine Sherman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pantera Press

Chapter 15

Today is father–daughter day at school.

It’s a way to get dads involved in the school community. I’m a veteran already – after surviving last year’s at my old school, which went ahead despite Mum’s complaints to the principal that it’s irrelevant and offensive for modern families. I spent most of the day, as the girls and dads laughed and talked, pretending to re-read an old book. I didn’t finish one paragraph.

At least this year I have Marissa, Jules and Kristy. And if they’re not around, I can hang with Lucy and Mark and talk birds.

Lucy’s my secret friend. I haven’t told her she’s hush-hush as such, that would be cruel, but she gets it somehow and doesn’t talk to me when I’m with my popular friends. I feel guilty about it, but now it’s just an unspoken rule.

I’ve been visiting Chirp every day after school, which is also top secret. Paula thinks I’m at Marissa’s and Jules believes I’m staying late at the library, and Marissa, well, I don’t think she cares much, being totally obsessed with preparing for the gala.

I decided not to tell Marissa or anybody else about Chirp now that he’s settled so comfortably at Lucy’s place. I know secrets are best kept when few people hold them. And this one’s big. Maybe if Melody comes next week on the way back from the rainforest action, not that I’m counting on it because she’s cancelled so many times, I’ll tell her everything and even show her Chirp.

Chirp. He totally adores me. He’s the groupie to my rock star. Every time I appear, he erupts into chattering cheeps, clucks and chirps, and when I open the cage he follows me around like Bella does at home. Lucy and I find his dust-bathing hilarious, a chicken rolling, kicking his legs with glee, and covering himself in dirt like Bella when she finds something deliciously smelly. And when I sit down, tired from laughing, Chirp pecks about looking for insects and then climbs onto my lap where I stroke his feathers like a cat.

‘Who’s a sweet chicken, who?’ I tickle his neck. ‘You love cuddles, don’t you?’ He doesn’t need to answer. I can tell he adores it and I half expect him to purr. He also loves bananas and eats straight from my hand, but his favourite food is watermelon. I’ve taken a hundred pictures of him, especially of his feathers smeared red with juice and his beak lumpy from sticky bits of banana. I’m dying to put him on Instagram, but can’t take the risk.

His top feathers are already growing big, like him, but underneath are layers of smaller ones, soft like a down pillow. His comb, the red thing that sticks out from the top of his head, felt fleshy and weird at first, but now I’m used to it. I’m learning a tonne about chickens.

I took a video of him blinking and when I was mucking about with it on my computer, I played it

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