From the first Occupy Daily Prompt/Blog Propellant “Picture Prompt.” I had fun writing this, so decided to give it the ol’ once over and re-post.
It’s a pelican’s life. Foggy mornings, calm waters, and blessed, blessed fishermen. The human kind.
Argus was one of the feathered fisherman who kept a special place in his heart for his human comrades, and Pedro, a human fisherman, liked the feathered fishermen like Argus. They understood where each was coming from: There’s the sea and therein are the fish.
As a young bird still learning his way in the world, Argus found Pedro after a long, mostly unsuccessful day looking for food. On that day, Argus stood on the end of the pier, frustrated and hungry. His mother never told him there’d be times like these and he wondered what to do about the pain in his belly. The seagulls taunted him. Swooping and screaming, always either begging, bullying or scavenging. Eating crap. What did they know. Fish are fish. Whatever the other humans ate, who didn’t fish, was crap.
Argus looked the other way, ignoring the gulls. It was the first time he saw Pedro. Pedro was tying up his boat. He then picked up a bucket and dumped an amazing amount of delicious fish back into the water.
Argus took a step forward, and stopped. He looked back toward the seagulls. Two of them were fixed on Pedro. Argus learned early on, in circumstances like these, you just gotta flap like hell to keep the damn seagulls away if you were going to get anything from the likes of Pedro. As the two gulls flew in, Argus ran across the pier, wings out stretched, mouth agape, and gave the loudest squawk he could to threaten the gulls, but it was too late. The rest of the flock had swooped in, making all that racket like the hysterical freaks they are. There was nothing for Argus to do, but hang back on the pier and wait. And hope.
To Argus’ surprise, Pedro stopped throwing fish away as soon as the gull flock arrived. “Shoo! Git!,” Pedro called out, waving his arms. “Git! Go on! Shoo!” he repeatedly scolded until the last one left. Pedro moved over to the side of his boat where Argus and a couple other yearlings expectantly stood.
“You kids, now. You ought’a learn right what yer folks taught ya. Don’t be waitin’ for no more handouts, ‘K?” He repeated his admonishment as he threw out the rest of what he didn’t want. Pedro’s scolding did no good, of course. Argus and his friends would come to always count on to him to throw his unwanted fish away.
It was late one day in winter when Argus decided the float along side Pedro’s boat slip was as good as any place to stay the night. Argus knew he was supposed to be back with all his family and neighbors, but here, next to Pedro’s boat, it was quiet and calm. Just a few clanging sounds, water lapping against the other boats, and no one else but live-aboard fishermen like Pedro. Argus liked the solitude.
A flicker of light caught Argus attention, and he turned to see that Pedro was staring at a small box that looked like it had light moving inside it, like the sun reflecting off the ripples of water. He knew better than to climb aboard, but Argus had to get a closer look. He quietly padded up to the window behind Pedro. To his amazement, there were tiny fishermen, just like Pedro, in that little square space. Pedro just sat there, watching them.
Every night afterward, Argus would quietly watch the tiny fishermen in the square on Pedro’s boat. They leapt and jumped, hid and snuck around corners. They were very, very good hunters, concealing themselves from notice before making their kill. And every time they got their prey.
One day not long after Pedro returned in his boat from hunting fish, Argus tried hiding behind a post, just like the tiny fishermen he’d watched in the small box. Argus figured he’d make a move like the tiny hunters and swoop up all of Pedro’s unwanted fish before the gulls or his friends got to it, but a couple of gulls came after him right off, teasing him about pretending to be such a tough guy.
The next day, Argus tried hiding again. This time, he kept to his hiding place and did not make a move. None of the other birds seemed to notice he was there. He tried it the day after that, and the day after that, and still no one seemed to notice him.
On the fifth day Argus chose his moment, and from his hiding place behind the post, he stormed Pedro’s boat with a loud screech, startling all the other birds and frightening them away. He landed on the back deck railing of Pedro’s boat, and gave his wings a little flutter before settling down.
“HA!” Pedro exclaimed. “I seen you, all stealth-like the past coupl’a days, back there, behind the piling. Wondered what you were up to. Way to go! You showed them!” Pedro threw him a huge handful of fish that Argus caught it mid-air.
“Oh, HO! Right on, buddy, good catch! Here…some more!” and Argus made another clean catch of another handful of fish.