Jane's Cardinal

Chapter Twelve

Chapter 12

Past. Present. Future.

It was such a hassle getting out of bed. Mom had never said a word on staying another day, so I wasn't sure if I should get ready for school or start gathering my things. I began throwing my covers around, forcing myself to at least get up. I choked as I heard my window opening.

"Cheyenne?" She quickly looked back with a profound grin. Maralah chirped, aiming for Cheyenne's attention; her head tilted at the window. She was spreading her wings and closing them like a fan. "Cheyenne, what are you doing?"

"You'll thank me later." She opened Maralah's cage and cupped her hand underneath the red bird. Maralah willingly went forward. Cheyenne, still holding onto Maralah, stumbled back over to the window. I rushed over to the both of them but tripped over all my blankets I had tossed over earlier.

"Please don't!" I cried, reaching my hand out to her. Cheyenne kept her stare out the window, never looking back. I finally pulled myself together and leaped towards them. Cheyenne by then had Maralah in one hand and on the other side of the window. My heart was growing rapid.

"The song is complete. Maralah's job here is done." Swift and firm my hand clasped around hers, letting her know I wasn't going to let the bird fly away. "Jane, this bird saved your life yet that wasn't even its full purpose." I held my grip tighter. "You were given a blessing that blessed the lives of many. Now just say goodbye."

"It's my bird." My words were argumentative. At any minute Maralah would be gone, for good, and I wasn't going to let that happen.

"Is it really Jane?" I paused and thought a moment.

"You're right." My hand, strained and sore, released its cold grip. Cheyenne then let go of hers. Maralah gave a small sight-see and in no time her wings fluttered with the wind. Maralah was still visible but I glanced back at my cousin. "It's God's." She gave me a smile and we both went searching for Maralah somewhere in the blue sky, but what was once my cardinal was nowhere in sight.

"Have faith Jane." Cheyenne then climbed out the window. She turned back to see the same, confused, defiant stare. "Like I said, you'll thank me later. Have faith Jane, geesh!" Before I could say a word Cheyenne ran off.

Though I willingly gave the bird liberation I was beginning to miss her. My eyes, fixed on the empty cage, were dry. Regardless, I searched for tears. Maralah had been there since the moment my father was crushed under pounds of debris. Letting go of her was somehow similar to letting go of the memory. As much as that relieved me, my emotions started to resemble that of the cage's appearance; sad and lonely. My cry mimicked the object, the cage door creaking open from the wind flowing through the open window. Both of us were begging to hear the tiny red bird's song one last time. I could have sat there all day and sympathized with the wooden material, however, my mother was awake and ready to deteriorate any ounce of hope left.

"Jane honey." She knocked frequently on my door. "You awake?" Unsure of why her voice sounded so sweet I wiped my face clean from any salty liquids and kept still at my knees. "Jane?" I sighed deeply.

"Yes, mother." I responded disguising my harsh voice.

"Your grandma is here."

"Okay."

I tried to remain discreet, not wanting to give away my grief. Of course, I can never hide any sadness from my grandmother. Even if I kept my posture upright with the greatest of composer, I could never fool her. There's only one other person besides my father who knows me so well and that is indeed my grandma. I veered around the corner, careful and slow.