Essence of His Soul (Part 2)

His trepidation was confirmed when the jolly man came a few nights later. Before then, only the people he deemed suitable or beneath his status were given the honor of ‘feeding’ him. At first, it appeared his owner thought it reasonable to feed him scraps from their dinner plates. When it was reported that he had not eaten any of the spoils brought to his habitat, only then did Mr. Haggerty grace him with his presence. He raved and swung his hand in the air as he berated a creature he thought ignorant of his words. By the end of his monologue, he had worked harder than if he had run from one side of the room to the other. After that visit, live rodents and the occasional larger prey were introduced, those he devoured with relish. But now Mr. Haggerty and his daughter stood outside his cage whispering, though unbeknownst to them, he had exceptional hearing.

He was confirming the validity of the girl’s report, that she had indeed interacted with his acquisition. He appeared satisfied with her account Mr. Haggerty attempted the same, but with a vastly different outcome.

“Now see here, you overgrown pigeon; I didn’t spend a small fortune on your capture for nothing. I expect obedience. There’s no use playing dumb. My girl, Claire, would not lie to her Papa.” He smiled at the small child at his side, and she returned in earnest. “You wouldn’t lie to Papa, right?”

“No, Papa,” she responded dutifully.

“Right.” When he turned to face the cage again, the smile had vanished. He snapped and indicated a spot he guessed to be an appropriate distance to demonstrate his obedience. Not a tail feather twitched. Nor a ruffle of his feathers disrupted the quiet of the room. Mr. Haggerty turned several shades of red until he bordered on purple, which couldn’t be good. As if a switch had been flipped, his demeanor, reminiscent of turbulent waters, became a tranquil lake. He used his free hand to casually reach into the inner pockets of his jacket, removing a slick device, its function not yet known.

“You have one last chance to prove her willingness to listen. Otherwise, I can’t guarantee you will enjoy what happens next.”

“What’s that, Papa?” Mr. Haggerty ignored the question. His eyes took on an excited gleam, like reflected lenses of predators stalking their prey. His thumb hovered over the device, his anticipation growing due to the inaction of his acquisition. Between one blink and the next, an electrical current; originating from the collar attached to his throat arced and snapped throughout his body. He couldn’t maintain his position perched on a thick branch. Paralyzed by intense pain, he plummeted to the ground below. The low thud of his body hitting the ground was punctuated by a shrill scream. He watched through half-lidded eyes as Mrs. Haggerty stormed through the doors to remove Claire from the room while flaying Mr. Haggerty alive through her glare. As she turned to leave, she shot a sympathetic glance at the prone creature on the floor.

Mr. Haggarty made one more pronouncement before he vacated the room as well. “There’s more where that came from. You will wish for mercy and find none. Not until you can prove your worth.” As the occasional spasm contorted his muscles and the heavy door slammed with finality, he could only hope he lived to taste his freedom again.

Contrary to what Mr. Haggerty thought, no such act of compliance was forthcoming in the ensuing weeks. No method of punishment, electric shocks, starvation, isolation, or forced immobilization persuaded the creation to bend to Mr. Haggerty. The only outcome of his ill-advised treatment was the deteriorating health of the once magnificent creature. Mr. Haggerty, with no other options, finally relented and provided the care he needed, but regaining what was lost proved harder than expected.

During the long recovery process, while the contracted doctor to oversee his care was in residence, Mr. Haggerty visited unannounced. He had not seen the man since his last bout of vindictiveness. The first time the doctor had seen his deteriorated state, he was surprised she had the fortitude to verbalize her thoughts on his treatment.

His wife was the only person he ever saw raise their voice at Mr. Haggerty. He liked the doctor instantly, not that he would make the mistake of showcasing his intelligence again.

“How much longer is this going to take?” Mr. Haggerty asked without preamble.

“As long as is needed,” the doctor responded frigidly. “He was in quite a state when I was called in. Should I list the damage you’ve caused?” She quirked an arrogant eyebrow.

Either Mr. Haggerty chose to ignore her blatant attitude, or he considered her beneath his notice. Which it was, he continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “No need. I want him in working order as soon as possible. The exhibit opens in two months. He needs to be trained.”

“I hope it isn’t with the same method you tried previously. I would suggest hiring an expert. You know, someone who knows what they are doing.”

“I don’t recall inviting your opinion, doctor. Do your job without worrying your pretty little head over something that doesn’t concern you, hmm?”

The doctor’s glare rivaled the cutting intensity of any predator he knew back home. He would lend her his claws if he could. Mr. Haggerty, unperturbed, turned his back to her as he made his exit.

“I swear that man won’t know what hit him one day.”

He gazed at her in amusement and watched as she tilted her head and analyzed his face. “If I didn’t know better, I would say you understood that exchange.” He slowly blinked, neither confirming nor denying her assumption.

As they neared the completion of his treatment, Mr. Haggerty announced the start of his training, which the doctor advised against. However, her opinion did not hold weight with Mr. Haggerty. She could only recommend light workouts, not that it made a difference. He had no intentions of obeying. When the doctor removed her medical setup, he flew and ruffled his feather leisurely. The trainer tried a variety of commands interspersed with treats, whistles, and praises. He played oblivious. After a few days, Mr. Haggerty conferred with the trainer a distance from his cage. Mr. Haggerty no doubt believed he understood their spoken language. But he had no desire to prove him right as they whispered among themselves. The doctor waited at her workstation, ready to monitor her charge when his training inevitably resumed.

At that moment, the little one, Claire, entered the room. Her mother had kept her away during Mr. Haggerty’s less-than-effective obedience training and healing process. Now she scampered across the room, latching onto the leg of her Father. Who petted her hair affectionately in return. He didn’t allow the interruption to stall the conversation between him and his would-be trainer. Claire ducked from under her Father’s hand and began walking toward his enclosure. She peeked behind her shoulder to ensure Mr. Haggerty remained oblivious before coming closer. As soon as the bars were in reach, she thrust her hand through and beckoned him to her. He surreptitiously glanced around as well and confirmed everyone was occupied. Instead of flying to her as last time, he descended to the ground and walked to meet her. And as before, he crouched down to her height to bring his plumage within reach of her searching fingers. Even though he braced for the sensation he felt at her touch the first time ignited instantly and brighter than before. Claire giggled, carefree and joyous.

Three gasps could be heard over her laughter. Then, “Claire, dear, come to Papa.”

“See, Papa he’s my friend.” Her fingers delved deeper into his plumage until he felt her at his skin.

“I know, sweetheart, he’s my friend too. But I need you to come to me now.” Mr. Haggerty inched his way closer. A fine sheen of sweat gathered at his brow and upper lip. And to his ears, his heartbeat increased.

“No! Mama didn’t allow me to see him. I want to stay.” Claire’s eyes filled with tears, and her lower lip began to tremble as she pressed her small body closer to the bars. He didn’t realize how close Mr. Haggerty at gotten, but at the sound and sight of Claire’s distress; he ruffled his feathers and extended his wings away from his body, appearing to double in size. To compound the threat, he slowly curled his claws around the edge of his enclosure and aimed his unblinking stare at Mr. Haggerty over Claire’s head.

“Sir,” the doctor began, “that is a warning display. I would strongly advise that you retreat.”

Mr. Haggerty’s eyes ping-ponged between his daughter and the creature that could gut an animal five times its size with little effort. “That thing,” he hissed, “has my daughter.”

“If you would look closely,” the trainer interjected, “he’s not hurting her. If I had to guess, he’s protecting her,” he finished in awe.

“Protecting her from who? He knows us, there is no threat,” Mr. Haggerty shouts at the others.

“He’s protecting her from you, sir.”

When it appeared that Mr. Haggerty would stay where he stood, he turned his attention to Claire. He was dimly aware of the man cajoling the others to do something, but neither willingly wanted to lose an arm by interfering. He ignored them and chose to preen Claire’s hair instead.

“What is it doing now?”

“Grooming her. It’s a sign of bonding. My god, I’ve never seen anything like it,” the trainer said.

“Well, Dave,” Mr. Haggerty sarcastically replied,” that’s my daughter he can’t have her.”

“No one is saying you’ll lose her, but maybe you could train her to interact with him for your exhibition.”

“We can’t enter his habitat without him attacking us. What makes you think I’ll allow her anywhere near him without restraints?”

“With all due respect, sir, if he wanted to hurt her, he would have. And you’d be cleaning up her remains instead of waiting on her to return to you. She’s practically in the cage with him now. Just think about it.”

He didn’t hear Mr. Haggerty’s response. Based on the rough breath sawing in and out of his nose, he didn’t take too kindly to Dave’s assessment. They continued to bicker between themselves as the hours went by. Claire appeared content to lounge against the bar, and he found he felt the same. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since he felt anything but rage, homesickness, and loneliness. Though he was one of a kind at home which amounted to a different kind of loneliness, he was never alone. But as Claire reclined against the bars and a hand buried in the feathers at his breast, a bright speck shone at the end of a dark tunnel.