I saw a magpie alight perfectly onto a wall, and it occurred to me: What if the was one that didn’t?
Magpies are majestic and magnificent. They fly like the air was made just for them. Branches and railings reach up to meet magpies as they land. You just know that their chattering contains the wisdom of ages.
And then there’s Edward.
Edward flew with his three brothers and three sisters. Or he liked to think he did. They flew ahead of him, keeping their distance. They didn’t want the other magpies to know they were related.
“He’s strange,” they would say, “he can’t fly straight, he can’t land well at all.”
Which was true. Edward flew like a plastic bag caught in the wind, even when there was no breeze at all. And he didn’t land, so much as crashed, usually missing the branch he was aiming for, or crashing right into it.
“He’s always upside down,” said Edward’s mother. Which was true – unlike his siblings, he hatched from the bottom of his egg. “He doesn’t even know which way is up!” moaned Edward’s father.
All of this hurt Edward’s feelings. He tried not to show his sadness or disappointment. He didn’t try to fly near his siblings, just close enough that he felt a part of the mischief.
One day, as the group was hopping from tree to tree in search of fun and food, Edward was resting on a branch, catching his breath. “They never wait for me,” he said to himself. He never complained openly, as it would only make his siblings natter at him constantly.
He gave his wings a good flap and half fell, half flew from the branch, following his family. They were three trees ahead, skah-skah’ing at a squirrel occupying a bird feeder. Knowing he wouldn’t get to eat if he didn’t get their first, Edward skipped trying to land with his siblings and went right towards the bird feeder. The squirrel froze at Edward’s rapid approach, realizing only too late that Edward wasn’t going to stop in time.
Edward flapped his wings furiously, trying to slow down, pitching him left and right, up and down, until finally he collided with the feeder, knocking it off its stand and onto the ground, scattering the seeds everywhere.
“Edward, you klutz!” said his sister Mary, as she landed and started to eat. “Edward, you moron!” said his brother Martin, as he scared the squirrel off and picked at the seeds. “Edward, you’re such a disappointment,” said his father.
Edward ate quietly while the rest continued to insult him. This made Edward sad, so he hopped away and waited for his family to finish. His family ate and ate and ate until there were no seeds left for Edward, then they all flew off. He sighed and followed them.
As they flew away, Edward saw something above. Something larger than them, something they had all known from hatching was a danger: a hawk. And it was hunting Edward’s family.
“Hawk! Hawk!” Edward cried. His family looked and screamed: “Hawk! Hawk!” and they went for the trees. The hawk, realizing it couldn’t catch any of Edward’s family, trained its eye on the only bird away from safety: Edward.
Turning suddenly, the hawk gave two mighty flaps and was nearly upon Edward before he could react. Edward also gave a mighty flap, though it only resulted in a sudden drop to the left. The hawk missed Edward and nearly crashed into the ground.
“Edward!!” his family cried, “fly over here!”
Edward saw that his family were perched in a dense pine tree that the hawk wouldn’t be able to fly into. But Edward did’t want to risk the hawk getting any closer to them, either. Instead, Edward flew away from them, leading the hawk away.
The hawk was angry, having missed its meal. It let out a shrill cry and sped after Edward. Again it tried to snatch Edward with its sharp talons, but again it missed as Edward’s wings caused him to flit around erratically. The hawk was angry and frustrated. It swooped around and came from above, hoping to catch Edward and force him to the ground.
“Edward!!” his family cried, “the hawk is above you!”
Edward flapped harder than he had ever flapped before. The harder he flapped, the more he couldn’t fly, his wings seemed to be missing the air. He heard the hawk coming and tried to get away. But he was exhausted from all the flapping, he needed to rest a moment.
He saw an old, dead tree ahead, nearly empty of anywhere to land except for the stump of an old, large branch. “A few breaths, that’s all I need!” panted Edward as he whipped around, the hawk missing repeatedly and getting angrier and angrier. Edward knew if the hawk caught him, it would be his end.
As he approached the tiny landing spot, he reached out with his feet for a nice landing. He didn’t see that the hawk was coming in fast behind.
His family screamed: “Edward, don’t! You can’t land there!”
But he couldn’t hear them clearly. “Just a quick stop, then I’ll find a better tree.”
The hawk was getting closer by the second, able to smell Edward’s fear. In another moment, it would finally have its meal. He reached out with its claws, flicking at the end of Edward’s tail. Just another moment…
As Edward’s feet were prepared to touch wood, his wings caused him to suddenly fall, missing the short branch entirely.
The hawk hadn’t expected the sudden change. And it hadn’t seen where Edward was going because Edward had been in the way of the branch. In all the hawk’s attempts to not miss Edward, it succeeded only in hitting the branch. The hawk bounced off the stump in a flurry of feathers and confused flapping, and careened into a thicket of thorns.
Edward flapped back up to the branch and landed. He breathed heavily and looked around, but the hawk was gone.
“Edward, Edward, Edward!” his family cried, flying over to him. “How did you do that? You defeated a hawk!”
The only bird that was more surprised at the news than Edward was the hawk, trapped in the bush.
“I did?” Edward asked. “I did!”
“I’m proud of you, son!” said his mother as she flapped past. “I knew you were a great bird!” said his father. “Come,” they said, “let’s find a berry bush. You can have first picks.”
