Broots

It is a rainy day and I can taste the salt of the ocean on my lips as I follow a very eager Debbie across the wet sand.

“Hurry, Daddy!” she calls back over her shoulder, once again forgetting that I have been discharged from hospital only a few weeks ago.

“I am coming, darling!” I shout over the noise of the wounded birds, the crashing of the waves and the people shouting orders at each other.

The oil is visible in the water, black poison spreading through the water.

The seagull in my arms gives a weak sound and struggles slightly, but I hold onto its freshly cleaned body.

Finally we have arrived in a cleaner spot, where the carpet of oil on top of the water doesn’t seem quite as threatening.

Debbie is overjoyed with anticipation as she helps me sit the seagull on the clean sand. We have spent the last few rainy spring afternoons caring for the birds, helping as much as we could after oil has leaked from a stranded ship close to the coast.

When we learned of it, we immediately volunteered to help. Especially Debbie has been pressing me to do it before after my sickleave, I would start a new job with a local software- firm who had been quite impressed with my abilities concerning security systems.

“Are you ready?” I ask and when my daughter nodds, step back, pulling her with me. The bird looks at us with its curious black eyes, then extends its wing, the clean feathers spreading easily. Finally it gets up, shakes its little head and starts into the pale blue sky. I shield my eyes with my hands against a sudden beam of sunlight that penetrates the rain-clouds.

We can't know whether the bird will make it or whether it will be hurt again but the feeling of seeing its final freedom is gratifying enough.

I feel tears prick in my eyes – Miss Parker would probably call me a wimp for it- and put my arm around my daughter’s shoulders, pulling her closer to me. As I see the bird circle in the sky, giving a cry that I decide is one of happiness, I feel reminded of someone I know.

“Debbie?”

“Yes, Daddy?”

“What do you think? Should we call this one Michelle?”

The End