The other day…

Seattle WA

Description

It was pretty much a typical Wednesday afternoon and I was as I usually did, walking my dogs along the rural roads near my home. To be honest I didn’t usually walk them in the afternoon like this, generally choosing the early evening, or late at night whn traffic levels drop and I don’t have to worry about cars running over my four legged friends. It was a sunny day in early summer, the birds were chirping in the trees, people were out mowing their lawns or sitting in the backyard with the baseball game on the radio. I usually walked the same route every day because the dogs were used to it and like I said, traffic was low. On this day however, I had chosen a route that I only occasionally took. Don’t ask me why, just know that I was happy I had gone the route I did that day. I had walked this route once or twice. Its streets were lined with some nicer homes, green cut lawns, well landscaped and nice cars parked in the driveway. My dogs and I rounded the corner onto a street only populated by three houses over the entire length of the block. These people had it nice. Well secluded yards, privacy. Privacy can come in handy at times. This particular block had a house at each end off the block and on the opposite side, my right as I was walking there was one beautiful rambler right in the middle of the block. From here you could see no other houses around and it was the kind of property I wished I could afford. In the past I had seen a pleasant enough man mowing the yard or washing his BMW in the driveway. Once I saw a dark haired woman much younger then mr car wash wheeling a wheel barrow across the front yard busily improving the already lovely yard. She had smiled and waved, I yelled hi and nothing more. Probably had to tend to my dogs or something, but that was as far as my interaction with her had gone. There was one other time when late at night, I had passed by this same house. Glancing up at the window I had noticed the only room with lights on on the second story. As I was about to turn away, the wheelbarrow woman walked into the room. As she did she glanced toward me and saw me standing there staring up at her window. I thought to turn away, embarrassed at having been caught looking in, but for some reason I had not. Nor did she. She stopped walking and head turned to her left, stood looking at me. The man who washes cars walked into the room behind her and passed her, walking out of my sight. Still she stood looking in my direction, and by this point, I was transfixed and felt as though my feet were glued to the pavement. Then she started, her head turning toward what must have been the man. She said something, or so I thought, hard to tell from the street. She nodded her head, turned back toward me for a\another moment, then still looking my way, walked out of my sight range. That was last year, toward the end of the summer, and I still glanced up at that window every time I walked past. Strange how a single image can stick in your mind and cause you to look again and again in hopes that it might reoccur. On this sunny day however I had seen few people out working in their yards. Probably because it was Wednesday, the middle of the week, and most people were busy toiling hard to earn enough money to buy more plants and rocks to bury in their lawn. Me, I had the day off. I had the entire week off actually. Why was not important. I did. And it was well earned. I was taking some time to think, some time to play, and some time to re-acquaint myself with my trusty hounds. I had nearly passed that house, my second floor bedroom of dreams, when from behind me and the direction of the yard I heard a female voice calling “Excuse me! Hey! Can you help me? Sir?” I turned to see my wheelbarrow lady shouting over the fence that blocked off the backyard. Her head and arm were visible as whe waved frantically like a damsel from high atop a tower. “I need some help” she said as I let the dogs know we were stopping for a second and walked toward her down the driveway. “I’m sporry to bother you but I am really in a jam and, well its rather silly I suppose, but …well… I’m trapped out of my house.” “Sure” I said with a big smile on my face, “What seems to be the problem?” As I got closer I noticed that her head was wrapped in a towel and she appeared to be wearing a bathrobe. She glanced toward her back yard with a look of despair. “Well, I just finished my workout and took a shower. When I came out of the bathroom I found a bird flying around inside my house! I know it sounds silly to a man, but what am I going to do? I’m afraid he will fly right at me….or …something I don’t know! I just don’t want to go in there until it’s gone. “ She paused then and, perhaps realiz\ing the silliness of her appeal, smiled and calmed down a bit. She waited until I stood opposite her on the other side of the gate and smiled. She looked me in the eye with a look of desperation and said “Can you help me? Please? Now I am no expert on birds, but in my mind at least I would fancy myself a bit of an expert at helping damsels in distress. Unfortunately, they are few and far between these days, so how could I pass this opportunity up. Besides, now that I was closer to her, I found her eyes and her smile difficult to resist. She was a small woman. Petite I guess you would say. Probably 5 foot nothing and couldn’t weigh more than one ten soaking wet, which incidently she practically was. That didn’t take away from her beauty one iota. Her robe was pink (not my favorite color) terry cloth and was full and soft and just a little too large on her small frame. That too I found oddly appealing. Her eyes were a vivid blue and greatly enhanced by the long dark hair tucked up under the towel wrapping her head like a turban. How women ever did that was beyond me, but I think its genetic as they all seem to have the ability from the time they are five years old. Her feet were bare, her skin still moist in places and the look in her eye was one of near terror. I had to smile, and that I think embarrassed her no end. “ I know she said closing the gate after letting my dogs into her backyard,” it’s a silly ‘girl thing’ I suppose, but here it is. Are you willing to help a damsel in distress?” “Its my specialty actually” I said and smiled looking right into those clear blue eyes. Why do you think I’m here?” That seemed to lighten the mood a bit and she finally smiled, “Oh so you just appeared on my street because I needed you at this moment?” “Actually I’ve been waiting for about 3 hours. That damned bird is late, He was supposed to be here a long time ago. I was getting thirsty waiting” She laughed at this. “Well, if you can persuade him to go to his next appointment, perhaps I will give you something to drink in return then.” She said this standing right in front of me. I had stood before her when she closed the gate and perhaps it was just my imagination, but she seemed to even take a step closer to me as we spoke. I am not a tall man at 5’ 7” but I seemed to tower over this small woman and that was NOT a feeling I minded nor was it lost on me or perhaps her. “Come she said taking my hand in hers…. He’s in here” and she led m to the back sliding door just off of the deck that overlooked the entire back yard. The door was open and led into a tastefully appointed living area which was part of an open floorplan allowing one to see into the kitchen dining area and anther smaller living room which likely held a television and or media center as they say. The feel was not real feminine in décor, but very comfortable. Nice draperies hung from the rods, plush soft pillows littered the couches and chairs, an oriental rug lay in front of a large stone fireplace. She paused before walking in, choosing instead to only lean her head in through the door as if there were a flock of man eating birds flying about inside. I noticed then that she still had a hold of my hand, and that her grip tightened a bit when she was close to the house. She must have been telling the truth. To be honest, for a brief moment I had ben hoping that the whole thing was a ruse to get a fine looking man like myself into her home for some less than ethical reason. But no such luck. She leaned in and put her free hand to her lips in a pensive, curious gesture I found incredibly appealing. “I don’t see him. I came out of the bathroom and was about to go into my bedroom to get dressed when he swooped down at me from out of nowhere.” “He swooped?” “Yes, he swooped” Then she looked at me and realized how dramatic and silly that word sounded and blushed. “Well I don’t know what you call it. He came down from above and nearly landed on my head. I could feel his wings beating against my towel.” “Maybe he was trying to dry you off.” I offered. She rolled her eyes. “Are you going to help me or be sarcastic?” ”Can’t I do both?” “No.” she said a squeezed my fingers once more before letting my hand go. “Now go in there and save the day. He’s your bird after all.” “My bird?” I asked. “How is he MY bird” “You said you had been waiting for him, so he must be yours.” She said smiling and pushed me into the house. I walked around a bit looking in all the usual bird-like places, I moved the drapes around hoping to appear as though I knew what I was doing. In fact I had no idea how I was going to catch a bird in this lovely woman’s house, but having looked into her eyes, I was either going to find a way or make it look like I knew what I was doing. She stayed outside the house, which was nice. It gave me a chance to wander around this woman’s house and learn a little about her. I saw pictures on the fridge of her and what would be her husband, though I didn’t notice a ring on her finger, in different poses. One by a river with all the river rafting gear on, helmets, life preservers etc. One with the two of them at a wedding. Likely not their own since he was not in a tux and she was not in white. One of some elderly people sitting at a picnic table by a lake eating corn on the cob and some sort of meat. Hard to tell with the small photograph. It each she was smiling that cheesy smile people put on when they know their picture is about to be taken. In one I noticed, appeared to be of her when she was wonderfully happy, just playing the role. I walked through the kitchen and the ‘other living room’, I was on my way back to the door to suggest that the rogue bird might have flown the coop, when a medium sized robin-like bird flew across the room in front of me and up into the exposed rafters. She let out a scream of delight and terror even though the bird was no where near her when he chose to reappear. “See? There! There he is! Catch him!” I looked at her with a baleful look meant to say ‘what I am mr magic and can sweep my wand across the room and he simply dissappears?’ It didn’t work. She just looked at me with a look that said ‘he’s YOUR bird’. I guess I had walked into that one. “Do you have a towel?” What? “A towel”. I said. I had only ever caught one bird before. I used a towel and accidently I am sure threw it open and in the pathway of the offending bird, who obliged me by flying right into it and allowing me then to scoop it up and deliver it to freedom outside. “A towel?” she said, as if forgetting the one wrapped so perfectly around her head. “A towel or a sheet. Maybe a blanket though a sheet would be better.” I have a sheet I just took out of the laundry. Its downstairs in the basement, first door on the left.” I looked at her. Apparenmtly I was in this on my own now, and headed off to find the basement and the sheet turned bird-cuffs. When I returned she was peering into the room. “He juist flew up into that corner” she said pointing a slender, very sexy arm in the direction of the living room ceiling. “Listen, I am going to need your help with this.” “What? No way. I am NOT going in there.” “Listen, I realize this bird is next to Osama Bin Laden in terms of dangerous people you would want to know and meet, however it would be helpful if you came in and helped. Or, you can stay standing out on your deck on your robe until I catch him alone, but that may take a few hours. Do you have a gun?” “Don’t kill him!” she screamed now concerned for the safety of the bathroom bird as I had begun to think of him. “ I wont… but I do need your help. Now come in here and hold the other side of this sheet. When he flies down again, we hold the sheet up at the last minute and try to snare him in it. When we do we wrap it up and carry it outside.” She loked at me as if my face was painted green, but reluctantly walked in and took the offered side of the sheet. We spread ourselves out and stood at the ready. The bird, as if on cue swooped (now she has ME saying it) down and up again into the rafters. In a fit of excitement she lunged out with her side of the sheet and chased after it wrapping me completely. In the end she was holding her side and I had a sheet over my head, standing there. She laughed and tried to untangle me. Unfortunately I was doing the same and we ended up at odds with each other. She laughed harder and tried harder and somehow in the midst of entanglement ended up nearly in my arms, her towel fallen from her head and her hair cascading down onto her shoulders. I stopped there for a second and nearly holding her in my arms looked into her eyes. For a brief second we stayed that way, she not trying to move and me wanting to hold her close to me like that for a long, long time. She looked into my eyes and said”did we catch him?” her smile teasing me all along. “I have one bird here, but its not the one you wanted.” I said and slowly, never taking my eyes from hers untangled us from the mess. It took three more tries, each equally unsuccessful before my plan worked and we were able to snare the wayward bird in the sheet. She let out a whoop of excitement and backed away from the now tumbling sheet like it was the plague. I grabbed the coirnwers and swiftly pulled it out onto the deck. I untangled it as best I could until after a while the bird flew up from the linen and found freedom in the branches of a tree. “Whee!” she said. I turned to see her standing very very close to my arm which I found nice until she did the unexpected and wrapped her hands around my arm as if we were lovers taking a walk. “He’s free! Thank you! I have no idea what I would have done had you not come along” “I try to arrive in the nick of time” Whats your name by the way?” “Nick” I said with a wry smile. Whats yours? “Maryanne, but you can call me Mary.” I turned toward her, she still holding my arm, “you are entirely welcome Mary. Anything I can do to help. Will there be anything else I could do for you?” At this point I was standing right over her, looking directly into her ocean blue eyes. Her lips were soft and full and she stood with no makeup as one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. The exertion of catching the bird had painted her cheeks red and her damp hair hung down across her shoulders like a curly hood.