The Ivory Hummingbird

My mother kept her magic on expensive things, and she would take them out to show off her powers every time I visited her. The new item he bought was a hummingbird, carved in ivory, with a red ruby ​​around his throat. It was a fine work of art, but what I thought was a dead elephant for the benefit of some hunter.

“Look,” he tells me. The hummingbird's ruby ​​throat began to glow, and the ghostly bird flew across the room, attracted by the Edo painting of flowering flowers. My mother laughed at the bird's confusion as she tried to drink from the two-sided flowers. He saw my plight and was shocked. "What's wrong? As a kid, you loved watching my magic."

"Nothing wrong." I smiled forcibly. My mother was right. He arrived with his official collection and said that something about the bird would not bring back the elephant.

The sparrow descends into the palm of his outstretched hand. The ruby ​​light dimmed, and the painting lost its ability to move. I held out my hand to touch the sparrow, but Mother removed her hand.

"Touching a bird will break the deception." He never let me touch any of his trinkets; he always had excuses. In the past, he used to tell me that I was too young, but now it was magic, his most important deception. My mother circled the beautiful pieces of art and ignored the whole world.

"Maybe it would be nice to take a break from your thoughts." I put on my coat and headed for the door.

She put her hand on my shoulder. "Deception is not in me. It is yours."

"I will not lock myself in a house with a lot of good things and avoid the real world, just like you." I got on my bicycle and rode up the mountain into town. On the way home, I noticed that my mother had sent her bird to fly behind me. I stood up and stretched out my hand, but the sparrow flew a few feet above my head. I had no idea what my mother was up to - checking me out? I locked my bike outside my house and opened my door to find a buzzer. It sat on the kitchen counter and filtered as I poured myself a glass of water and flipped through the fridge for lunch.

I got out the hummus and chopped the vegetables, all the while pretending the hummingbird wasn't there, but getting closer to that counter corner as I worked. When the bird bent its head back to straighten its tail I reached for it, but despite its discomfort, the bird was very fast. He stormed into the room, turned around, and looked at me, screaming and screaming.

I raised my hands, I'm sorry. "Sorry! I wouldn't hurt you."

The sparrow hissed angrily and sat behind one of my dining chairs. I loaded up a packet of pita with hummus and vegetables and stood on the counter to eat, trying not to put the bird too poor. Something over the counter caught my eye. Little feather.

If I touch it, can the trick be broken?

The hummingbird spotted a feather at the same time and threw himself on the counter, but I was close. I closed it with my hand before the bird could snatch it. This was my chance to see what my mother was hiding from me, things she saw that I could not. Looking at the sparrow in horror, I lowered my palm until the feather was pressed against it. Separated from the bird, the feather had turned into ivory, hard and cold.

I checked my apartment, but it was no different. The sparrow flew out of the window and landed on the egg. What is the deception that my mother was so worried about me breaking?

“Come on,” said the sparrow. I reach out my hand and raise my hand. "I've already touched the feather, so whatever the touch, you don't have to worry about it now."

The sparrow ignored me. I slipped an elephant feather into my pocket and opened the apartment door. The sparrow zipped it out in front of me and disappeared into my mother's house.

I rode my bicycle along, sweating and sweating as I climbed the mountain for the second time that day. I did not see the hummingbird, but my mother's door was locked. I knocked and pushed. "Mom?"

He looked the same way, sitting in his favorite chair, drinking a cup of tea.

"Why did you send me a buzzard?"

"Oh, I always send you something when you leave, to make sure you're okay."

"I'm not a baby anymore and my mom is alive."

The hummingbird had returned to its usual shelf, between a cup of china tea and a box of tortoise shells. I felt guilty for keeping a hummingbird's feather, especially since it seemed so pointless to break any tricks my mother made. I reached into my pocket to retrieve the stray feather and return it, but by the time my fingers touched the ivory, my mother's chair had turned into an elephant's body, crumbling into a rotten pile in the corner of her living room, legs, and head. they are all wrapped up, and the teeth are pulled out.

I was cold and put my hand in my pocket.

My mother knew the cost of her little clothes, she always knew. The trick was to hide that from me, and all these years I had kept quiet instead of confronting him. Saying something about the hummingbird won't save the elephant, but it may save the next elephant.

"Mom we have to talk."