Why Birds Sing by Nina Berkhout

Author:Nina Berkhout
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ECW Press
Published: 2020-10-06T00:00:00+00:00

18

While families gathered to celebrate the holidays, I reverted to the couch for a marathon review of my blunders, adding wedding footage to my analysis until a heavy fatigue overcame me.

For days I slept a wakeful sleep of low consciousness, eating only toast. Eventually, hunger cramps forced me up. I had soup and went through reams of tissue, heading downstairs for more once I ran out. But as I passed through the kitchenette, I slipped on Tulip’s puzzle, a now-permanent fixture on the floor.

My bare toes had undone a chunk of the image. I sat and tore the whole dense rainforest apart. Piecing the puzzle together again, I felt the fine pointillism of Tulip’s nails over her lost land. She had walked the jungle, trying to re-enter it until she understood, probably, that she couldn’t. And so she had moved on.

I finished the scene, loosening a cluster of orchids for when she got home. Then I returned upstairs and deleted every bookmarked link to my stage clips. I boxed up my memories with Ash and threw them into the garage and did the same with what remained of his things. Finally, I gave the house and myself a scrub down.

The next day, I messaged the Warblers for an impromptu practice. Then I went to the grocery store, came home, and baked. After they arrived, I passed around plates of crumble. The unscheduled get-together bewildered everyone.

“What’s the big idea, calling us over the break?” Georgie asked. She’d glued rhinestones to her wristbands and her eyeshadow matched the stones.

“Your airport performance was decent, but there’s still work to do,” I explained.

Reno brought gifts. We unwrapped our mugs, which said I Love Tits on one side and had the outline of a tufted titmouse on the other. The image was supposed to turn colourful when a hot beverage was added. He poured in cider and we watched the bird’s feathers glitter. A patch of rust appeared beneath each wing, then a black patch between the eyes and a grey crest on the head. Reno described the transformation to Ben, who did the call, which sounded like peter peter peter, and Georgie requested a mug with I Love Cock and a rooster on it the next time around.

It was New Year’s Eve and everyone was distracted. Ben told the group he had a date later, and the Warblers complimented him on his bow tie. Reno was fired up because he’d put in an offer on a motel, and Georgie was torn between dresses for the convention. Walt, dapper in his beret, was preoccupied with his upcoming move. Even Jo was unfocused, saying she was nervous about a visit with her son the next day.

“Does he live here?” I asked her.

“Yes,” she said. “But I don’t see him often.” Then she asked where my husband was and what our plans were for the night.

“We’re separating,” I said.

“No wonder you’re puffy,” Georgie said. “I thought you were expecting.”

Reno put an arm around me. “Des and I split, too,” he said.

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