Chapter 22 Chapter One

I live at the foot of a mountain, surrounded by forests.There is a mountain-climbing road next to it. When it comes to holidays, there will be many people with backpacks and families traveling from the city to hike.Sometimes I will be stopped at the door of my house to ask for directions, but if the person is a man, I will be too nervous to answer properly.I was very afraid of dealing with the opposite sex. I couldn't even talk to the male students in my class. I was always troubled by this. One autumn day, when I came home from junior high school, I stood in the courtyard with my schoolbag and stared carefully.When I first saw it from a distance, I thought it was a broken black umbrella that was blown by the wind and hooked on the roof.The thing didn't move at all, and its whole body was so dark that it couldn't even tell where the head was and where the feet were.I saw a large number of fallen feathers flying along with the dead leaves, and I deduced that it seemed to be a huge bird.

I told this to my father who worked in the study.My mother passed away when I was in elementary school, and I lived with my father.My father is the only person of the opposite sex that I can speak normally. "There's something like a crow stuck on the roof." Father interrupted the half-written novel and went to the attic.The attic is usually used as a storage room. The typewriter that my father used a long time ago and various items that are remembered by my mother are all covered with a layer of dust and stored there.Father climbed through the window onto the roof and came back with a limp black bird in his arms.The drooping wings grow almost to the ground.

"It may have been attacked by some animal." The bird's body was covered with claw-like bruises, and blood was stained between the black feathers.The bird was still breathing, and his body was warm, but he didn't appear to be about to open his eyes.I thought about that day over and over again, but in the end it wasn't clear why the bird was injured, what was being attacked, or where it came from. We put the bird in the back of the car and drove to the animal hospital, where the bird survived.Doctors say the wing is broken and it may take some time to regain the ability to fly.The doctor treated the bird, wondering at the same time.He opened the bird illustrated book and compared the shape of the head with the shape of the wings and claws, but he still couldn't seem to find out which kind of bird it was.It looks like a crow at first glance because of its black plumage, but the shape of its beak and eyes resembles that of an eagle.The father asked the doctor, "Is it possible that it is a new species of bird?" The doctor laughed and said, "Impossible." The doctor's opinion was that it is not so easy to find new species of birds.

That night, the bandaged bird rested in the silver cage it had brought to the animal hospital.We intend to take care of it until it recovers enough to fly again.It was not left to fend for itself, because the bird was huge and handsome. "It's a shame to let it die," said the father. At night, there is silence around our house.The nearest house is also three kilometers away.The only sounds to be heard are the creaking of branches in the wind and the cooing of owls in thought.My father decided to move here so that he could concentrate on writing novels. In the middle of the night, the sound downstairs woke me up.I got out of bed, put on my slippers, and crept down the stairs as quietly as I could.The cage where the bird rests is placed in the porch.Winter is approaching, so the nights are cold.I was trembling, and looked at the entrance from the corridor, and found the bandaged bird propping up its body in the cage, pecking at the silver cage with its beak.It aimed at the metal switch of the cage door and pecked.To me, that action seemed to be trying to understand the structure and purpose of the switch.

The bird found me, stopped its movements, and looked back at me directly.The first time I saw it with its eyes open, I was completely mesmerized by it.Its eyes are clear blue, like two gems embedded there.As I approached the cage, the bird stared at my movements, as if asking who I was.I speak to it tremblingly: "Is your injury okay?" The bird just tilted its head slightly, didn't sing, and stayed quietly until I left. My father and I didn't name it to avoid embezzlement, and it will be inseparable when the time comes.If we knew that we would live together for three years, we would definitely give it a good name.We all call it "the bird", "the bird".After knowing that it is male, sometimes it is called with a male pronoun.I get nervous just being around the opposite sex, but birds aren't people, so being around them is fine.

Once a day, the father would put the water and feed trays into the cage where it lives, and then take it to the animal hospital every few days to change the bandages.Even when released from the cage, the bird will not struggle.It never uses its beak to peck people's hands, nor does it grab people with its claws.Its height is as high as our waist, and its wings are nearly two meters wide, so if it makes a fuss, it will definitely turn the room upside down.But its expression is always very docile, as if realizing that we will not harm it. Because it will not escape even if it is released from the cage, we kept it indoors before we knew it.It stands on two feet, folds its wounded wings, and walks like a penguin.As it moves, its paws click on the floor.

A month passed and the bone in the wing healed, and we let it out in the yard to see how it went.The bird basks in the sun comfortably and slowly spreads its wings.It makes movements like preparing for sports, fanning the wind and blowing the fallen leaves from the ground. My father and I waited by the side, guessing that it might just fly away.But the bird flapped its wings for a while, looked back at us, and hurried into the house again, as if to say, "Hurry up and go back to the warm room." However it has a strange ability.Once I was lying on the sofa in the living room watching TV. I wanted to change the channel, but the remote control was thrown on the floor three meters away.I was hesitating whether to get up from the sofa to get it when I heard footsteps rattling in the hallway.

Once the bird entered the living room, he walked straight to the TV remote control and picked it up deftly in his beak.I watched what it was doing and it came up to the couch where I was and reached for me with the remote control in its mouth. "...Thank you." I dumbfoundedly connected the remote control, and the bird left the living room with clicking footsteps as if it had accomplished its mission. It repeats the same actions.For example, when I am frying poached eggs in the kitchen, it will bring me a pepper shaker.When my father is in the shower, if he forgets to take a change of underwear, it will go to his room to fetch it for him.

"Maybe it's the instinct of the wild. It's a bit like the action of a mother bird holding bait for its chicks." Father explained the bird's actions in this way.I find it unbelievable. "But I didn't say I wanted the remote." "Maybe it has something like telepathy. When we want something, we send out special brain waves, and it picks up that signal." I don't think birds understand the meaning of objects like TV remotes, pepper shakers, or underwear.Birds, however, send us objects that come to mind.Just like a baby bird brings a baby, the bird will bring what we want.

My father wrote novels at home, so I spent more time with birds than I did when I was in school.The father loves the bird like a son, and the bird is very close to the father, and even takes the initiative to get into his arm.Even after healed up and was able to fly, he stayed with us at home.Even if it flies out of the window, it is sure to come back at night, and always sleeps in the attic.My father modified the attic windows so that they could be easily opened with a bird's head.Bird seemed to be grateful to his father.Perhaps it heard his father make the decision of "it would be a pity to let it die" in a hazy state.

When my father was working in the study, Bird would come under his chair and look up at him.He'll sleep curled up under the chair like it's his own seat.Bird and I are like brothers or sisters, living under the wing of our father. After the bird settled in my house for three years, an accident happened when I was a sophomore in high school.Father died suddenly.Killed by thieves who broke into the house. That day I used the winter vacation and planned to go to my grandmother's house alone, but when I was about to leave, I was worried about where to put the potted foliage plants.I planted a small foliage plant in my room not long ago, and I wanted it to be in a sunny spot when I was away from home, so I decided to put it on my desk.Because even if the room is closed, there is still a little sunlight shining on the desk through the gap in the curtains. But when I was about to set up potted plants, my hand hit the glass photo frame on the table, fell to the ground and broke.The photo in the frame is a family portrait of the three of us together when my mother was alive. I think this is a bad omen. My father drove me to the station.Bird was also looking straight at me in the back seat.I was just going to stay at my grandmother's house for a week, and I didn't expect to wave goodbye in front of the car and my father and I would be separated forever. When I arrived at my grandmother's house, I packed my luggage and rested in the room.My grandmother and I drank tea and chatted. "Do you still have that bird?" Grandma has come to my house to play a few times and has seen the bird. "Once when I was looking for glasses, the bird came to fetch them for me." Grandma laughed. The next morning, the police called.