The Man Who Loved Birds by Fenton Johnson

Author:Fenton Johnson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: University Press of Kentucky
Published: 2016-07-30T16:00:00+00:00

Slumber, my darling, the birds are at rest,

Wandering dews by the flowers are caressed,

Slumber, my darling, I’ll wrap thee up warm,

And pray that the angels will shield thee from harm.

“What a lovely lullaby,” Meena said. “Once all I wanted was to have a child.”

“I’ll be darned. What makes you think you’re too old to have one now?”

“The world has too many children. That is our greatest problem and challenge. And I have other priorities. To begin with I have no security in this country.”

“I tell you what. I’ll light a candle to the Virgin for you to get yourself a baby.”

Meena smiled. “That is sweet of you but my reasons are not entirely political. I am unable to bear a child.”

A pause. “Well, I swan, aint that a shame. You’re certain about that? I guess you would be, being a doctor and all. All the more reason to light a candle.”

“I suggest we place our faith in more scientific means. I am grateful that I am childless. If I had given birth to a child, I would still be in India. All the same, I thank you for your concern. You will light your candle and I will bear a child. A miracle child, like Krishna born of Devaki. And then you can teach me your lovely song.”

Rosalee shifted Matthew Mark’s head in her lap. “I aint never met anybody from another country, I don’t think, except maybe the Mexicans who come to work tobacco.”

Meena filled her bowl with peaches. “I love walking in the woods in the evening light. As a child I knew nothing like it. The sun rose, then it set—it was light, then it was dark. Here the light lasts and lasts and everything changing all the while.”

“You been walking in the woods? Alone?”

Meena busied herself cutting away holes the birds had pecked. “I walk to the statues at the monastery, but not usually alone, no. Often I have Mr. Johnny Faye for company.” She stole a glance at Rosalee’s face—a blank page. “Oh, I can imagine what you are thinking but he’s just—a character.”

Rosalee kept her eyes on her quick-cutting knife. “He’s more than a character, he’s a, a—force of nature. Johnny Faye—he’s like your Shivo. Dangerous, in a skinny lawbreaking kind of way. You watch out.”

“Oh, Johnny Faye wouldn’t hurt a fly. You should see him with the birds. He could talk one off its nest.”

“It’s not him I’m telling you to watch out for. I know what I’m talking about.” A loud burrrr sounded in a nearby tree. “The first katydid of the summer. I hate that sound. You hear one of those, winter caint be far behind. I think a lot about that story you told about the woman who rides the lion. I liked that story—you don’t hear stories like that around here, where the woman comes out on top. You got to ask yourself—why would a smart woman like Durga take up with a rounder like Shivo in the first place?”

“I’ve never thought about that.

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