The Adventures of White Robin Read online

  “Yay!” cheered the people.

  Lola nearly fainted with relief.

  Chapter 21

  “Right there in front of that outcrop of rocks is where they jumped me,” said Falcon Eddie. “Pert near tore my leg plum off. I made it to a crevice in them rocks and holed up till night fell. Then I lit out for home like a meadowlark out of a brush fire.”

  It was midmorning, and Cindy and her scouts were well past midway crossing the big woods.

  “We haven’t seen hardly any birds at all, let alone any falcon hawks,” said Pebo. “I don’t see why anything would want to live out in these creepy woods.”

  “There’s a hawk in that tree on top of that bluff over yonder,” said Dodger.

  “I see him too!” said Swifty.

  “That’s a Cooper’s hawk.” said Falcon Eddie. “They don’t cause much trouble, at least not in the summertime. In fact, most all hawks don’t bother with birds in flight, during the summertime. Those mean little falcons just do it for sport.”

  “Looks like that Cooper’s got himself a rabbit,” said Dodger.

  “Keep watching him until we’re of sight,” Cindy said, then added, “We’re going to have to drop down a ways. The air is just too thin at this level. Is anyone else feeling woozy?”

  They all said yes.

  It was a bright clear day, hardly a cloud in the sky. When they got down to where they could taste the oxygen in the air, Cindy picked up the pace a little.

  Falcon Eddie checked the sun’s position. “We’re making good time, Cindy. I’d say we’ll be at the double black roads long before the sun is straight up. I know a place there next to the road where they raise chickens by the score. There’s grub spilled all over the place. We’ll fill up there.”

  They spotted two red-tailed hawks far below, treetop high. The hawks were circling a small meadow, probably going after a mouse.

  “My dad says the odds of getting attacked by a falcon hawk are about the same as getting swallowed by a fish when you’re getting a drink of water,” said Pebo. “My dad said only the fools who smell like cow-pies and hog-slop get—”

  “Pebo!” Cindy commanded. “Knock it off.”

  Swifty and Dodger busted up laughing.

  “I was only repeating what my dad said, is all!”

  “Your dad is a bully! I will not stand for bullying! Is that clear, Pebo?”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Falcon Eddie cut his eyes hard at Pebo. “I’m moan have me a word or two with yo daddy, when we get back home, son.”

  “You can knock it off too, Falcon Eddie! Veterans are to be held above that nonsense.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Chapter 22

  “Are you getting hungry, little bird?”

  “I’m fine, Lola. But if you’re hungry, then we can stop and scratch up something.”

  “I want to show you a trick I learned from the sparrows. But you must promise not to ever tell anyone I showed you. Robin creed will not permit me to take handouts. It would mar my shroud of protection.”

  Like Granny Gray Squirrel had said, robins were strange, White Robin thought. “I promise.”

  White Robin had lied. He was starving, and Lola knew it. She could practically see him growing right before her eyes. She had spotted a Sonic Drive-In a while back, and they were just then circling the parking lot of the restaurant.

  They lit in a Bradford pear tree on a grass island. “See that car with those children in the backseat?” asked Lola.

  “They all have children in them.”

  “The rusty car straight in front of us! Go over there and stand by the door and stare at the children. I don’t take handouts from people, but I’ll go with you to keep the sparrows from stealing your food.”

  White Robin flew over and did what Lola said. Sure enough, the children grew excited at the sight of a pretty white pigeon and gleefully started tossing bits of hamburgers, hotdogs, and French fries to White Robin. He ate till his belly bulged out. The food tasted heavenly, especially those tiny sesame seeds on the buns.

  He and Lola flew back over to the pear tree. “Did you enjoy your lunch?”

  “I only wish I had a bigger belly, so I could hold more food.”

  Lola laughed. “That food is cooked till it’s dry, so get you a big drink of water and let’s get back on the trail before you start getting sleepy.” She motioned to a leaking sprinkler head that had water pooled around it.

  White Robin couldn’t remember ever drinking pure water. He had been reared on pigeon milk. Pigeons hold food in their craw till it turns into a milky cream, which they feed to their babies. He hopped down and tasted the water. It was sweet and cool. He started gulping.

  “Easy now! You’ll get sick and lose your lunch,” Called Lola. “That’s enough…let’s go.”

  Chapter 23

  “I see the double black roads,” said Swifty. “Can we rest now, Cindy?”

  “See the big chicken on that sign out by the road, Cindy,” said Falcon Eddie. “Head for that place, they spill some of the finest grain I’ve ever et, around there. They flew over to the poultry farm and circled the long poultry houses several times. Finally Falcon Eddie spotted a busted sack of chicken feed beside a lane between the long buildings. The pigeons flew over to the feed and set in gorging on it like they hadn’t eaten in days.

  ******

  “Sorry ma’am,” said the kindly truck stop pigeon. “We all heard about the terrible tragedy. We haven’t seen nor heard of the whereabouts of the pigeons you described. We’d definitely remember a white pigeon named Savanna. Is that her boy traveling with you?”

  “This is her son, White Robin,” Lola said. “I’m Lola Robin. We are from the Twin Creeks region.”

  “He’s like snow—hard to look at with the midday sun bouncing off of him. If I hear any news of importance, ma’am, I’ll get word of it over to Twin Creeks pronto. Good luck to both of you, and may the Great Spirit be with you and lead you to them.”

  “Thank you,” Lola said.

  They were at a truck stop parking lot near the intersection where the double black roads crossed. “Follow me,” Lola said.

  They flew up to the top of a giant metal power-line pole. It was taller than the tallest tree White Robin had ever seen. They crowded onto the tiny flat spot on the very top of the pole. “We have to head back home now, White Robin,” said Lola. “But that doesn’t mean we’re giving up hope. Do you understand? We must never give up hope!”

  “I understand.”

  “Look hard in every direction for pigeons…Do you see any?”

  White Robin looked around in all directions, “No,” he said. “I see no other pigeons.”

  “If you were out here all alone, all by yourself, little bird, which way would you go to get back home?”

  White Robin didn’t even have to look in that direction. All birds know that pigeons have the greatest homing skills on the planet. He wondered why Lola would ask him such a simple question. Just fly straight home. It would be senseless and twice as far to return via the dogleg path they had taken to get there. White Robin remembered what Levi had said when they were in the apple tree. That sore and empty place in his chest had been growing all morning. When you leave the nest she won’t have any more to do with you from then on. His throat got tight. He couldn’t swallow. Tears welled up in his eyes.

  “Please don’t leave me out here, Lola. I promise I won’t complain about robin food anymore…and you can have your nest back. I don’t think I—”

  “Oh, dear little bird. I would never leave you, never.” She wrapped her wings around White Robin and held him tight. “Never, never, never. I was just checking to see if your homing skills are working properly. Let’s go. Lead us both home, my precious little bird.”

  Chapter 24

  Cindy Cinnamon flew up to the top of a power line pole and scanned the far horizon. “There they are!” she squealed. The shiny birds landing and taking off were tiny specks of dus
t glittering in the distance, probably unperceivable to any other eyes on the planet save for pigeons’.

  Then she glimpsed two birds leaving the top of a pole a ways down the line from her. Too far away to tell what kind they were, although one was pure white. It could’ve been an egret or a gull, since they were the most common white birds of that approximate size in the region. Cindy quickly ruled those birds out; only a bird with eyes of a pigeon, on a mission, like her, would land on a place taller than the tallest trees. Her heart was racing, and so was her thinking. She noted the direction they were going, and after some quick calculating she figured out exactly where they would cross paths.

  Cindy flew back to a grape vineyard next to the poultry farm, where the scouts were lounging. “Let’s go, scouts! I spotted the shiny birds. We’re almost there.”

  Chapter 25

  The countryside changed from endless forestland and rugged mountains to wide open hayfields with big rolled hay bales big around as a tractor’s rear wheels, waiting to be collected and patchy clumps of trees on gentle rolling hills. The scouts spotted more red-tail hawks in the two miles they’d covered since leaving the poultry farm than they had during the entire journey. The mice, rabbits, moles, and grass snakes were very abundant and easy to catch in the hayfields.

  They were flying leisurely along, treetop high, following Cindy’s lead. Tensions over encountering falcon hawks had eased way down, mostly because their bellies were full and they were safely past the big woods.

  “What if this White Robin guy is gone when we get there, Cindy?” Pebo asked.“Then what are we going to do?”

  “We wait for him to return,” said Cindy.

  “What if he went out looking for his momma? He could be gone for days,” said Dodger.

  “Or even weeks,” said Swifty.

  “We’ll talk to the wise elder they call Granny Gray Squirrel. She’ll know his whereabouts.”

  “He won’t venture too far away,” said Falcon Eddie. “He’ll be hanging close to home, at least for the first few days.”

  “Falcon hawks!” screamed Swifty.

  Everybody bristled up. “Where?”

  “Over there behind those hay bales. I saw two of them.”

  Falcon hawks were generally smaller than a pigeon, and often called sparrow hawks. To them pigeons were domesticated fools—fast, but not all that dangerous. Unlike their close cousins, the little pigeon hawks out on the western plains, these little falcons did not set out to kill pigeons; it’s just that pigeons made perfect targets for the young falcons to practice their hunting skills.

  Right then a flock of doves flew up from behind the hay bales.

  “Those are doves, you fool!” said Pebo.

  Something struck Pebo’s shoulder, and some feathers flew off his wing. “One got me! They’re attacking.”

  “They tricked us,” yelled Falcon Eddie. “How bad is it, Pebo?”

  “Just lost a few feathers, is all.”

  “Stay close, scouts. Don’t let them split us up,” yelled Cindy.

  Cindy did rollovers, then hairpin turns straight up, straight down, this way, and that, and still the falcons were zooming at them from every direction.

  Swifty had lagged behind the formation a tad too much.

  Thump, “Ow! I’m hit! I’m bleeding.”

  Cindy dove down and leveled off, tall hay grass touching their bellies. “Drop out and hide in the grass, Swifty,” she yelled. “I’ll come back for you! How many, scouts?”

  “Three!” shouted Falcon Eddie.

  “Four!” cried Dodger. “Another one just joined them.”

  “That must be their momma,” yelled Falcon Eddie. He broke formation. “I’m moan learn her something for turning out them mean little chiggers.” Falcon Eddie flew hard, straight at her. At a precise moment before colliding he did a perfect backward rollover and jabbed a claw into the momma falcon’s eye. The momma falcon shrieked and fled away.

  “Pebo, Dodger, fly high as the tower.” Cindy broke formation to go cover Falcon Eddie’s back.

  Falcon Eddie tried that same trick again, but this time he missed and the tip of the falcon’s razor-sharp beak slashed Eddie’s bad leg on the thigh. At that moment something bright flashed by Eddie and slammed into the falcon’s back. The falcon screeched and tore out following his momma.

  Eddie could not believe his eyes. A red robin and a white pigeon were flying tandem, nose to tail, at incredible speed, heading straight for another falcon. From a distance they looked like one bird. Just when they got to the other falcon they split apart. It must’ve scared the wits out of the young Flacon, for pigeons are not supposed to fight back. He shook his head fiercely, then lit out the way his momma and brother had gone.

  The one remaining falcon hawk screamed, “That’s a robin!” She had been taught early on not to ever mess with a robin. She chased after the other falcon hawks.

  Cindy had caught up with Falcon Eddie. “How bad is it?”

  “I don’t know, Miss Cindy. I’m afraid to look.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Naw, that leg’s been numb since the first time they boogered it.”

  “Head for those hay bales. I’m going to find Swifty.”

  Lola and White Robin continued to chase the falcon hawks well out of the area.

  A short while later Cindy returned to the hay bales with Swifty. Pebo and Dodger were gawking at Falcon Eddies battle wound.

  “How is he?” Eddie asked.

  “He got nicked on the shoulder and lost a little blood, but other than being shook up pretty bad, I think he’ll be okay. Let me look at your leg.”

  Cindy studied Eddie’s leg. “Thank goodness it’s not a deep cut. It’s just below the skin.”

  “Probably won’t even leave scar worth bragging about,” said Pebo.

  “Glad to hear it,” said Eddie. “Did you guys see em?”

  “I saw them,” said Cindy. “And I saw that trick you pulled. Good thing you have a witness, because no one would ever believe you jabbed the eye of a momma falcon hawk and lived to tell about it.”

  “He what?” gasped the scouts.

  “I never seen a team work together as good as them two,” said Falcon Eddie. “He’s building quite a name for such a young sprout fresh out the nest. You reckon that was your boy, Miss Cindy?”

  “My heart says it’s him,” cooed Cindy.

  “They’re turning around and heading back!” Swifty said.

  Lola and White Robin sailed back and circled the hay bales. They landed a bale over from the scouts and pored over them for a bit. White Robin could not take his eyes off of Cindy. She was almost as pretty as his momma. No, she was as pretty. No, she was slightly prettier. No, she was beautiful beyond any comparison.

  Cindy could not take her eyes off of White Robin. The sunshine reflecting off his white feathers cast a bright halo all around him. He looked like an angel sent down from above. She wanted to touch his feathers to see if he was real.

  “Are you guys all right?” Lola asked.

  “We have two wounded. The rest of us are fine,” said Dodger.

  “May I tend to them?” Lola asked. “I have doctoring skills.”

  “Then get yourself on over here pronto, before I bleed out, Miss Lola,” said Falcon Eddie.

  Lola hopped over and glanced at Eddies cut. “Um!”

  She turned her attention to Swifty, side-stepping over to examine his shoulder. “Uh, uh, uh. That’ll be stiff and sore before bedtime. I’ll be right back.”

  She flew over to a road ditch and plucked a leaf off a pokeweed shoot. She would have preferred a purple pokeberry, because it is as strong a disinfectant to birds as iodine is to people, but pokeberries were out of season. Lola rushed back to the hay bales, chewed the leaf to a pulp, dabbed the pulp on Swifty’s wound. “That’ll keep the flies off and numb the pain till morning.”

  “What about me, Miss Lola?” moaned Falcon Eddie. “The flies is eating me alive.”

 
; “Your wound is not what’s drawing them,” Lola said. “How does a stinky Texas cowbird like you know my name? And why is a shifty looking old drifter like you traveling with these youngsters?”

  “Easy now, ma’am! I can’t answer them kind of questions without indescribing myself. You’ll have to pose them questions to our leader, the brave Miss Cindy Cinnamon over there. She’ll vouch for me. But don’t be too hasty about it. She’s still busy ogling that young sprout ya’ll call White Robin. She’s trawled far and wide, and battled deadly falcon hawks to get the privilege to do that, ma’am, so let her take her time.”

  That kind of folksy bunkum didn’t get very far with Lola. She rolled her eyes away from Falcon Eddie and shook her head. “Shifty, shifty, shifty.”

  Cindy was still clenching her lucky sunflower seed under her tongue and placed it at the white pigeon’s feet. “Are you White Robin, first son of Savanna and foster son of the famous Lola Robin?”

  “Yes.”

  The scouts all cheered, and then started guffawing in unison, like silly juveniles, “Cindy’s got a boyfriend.”

  Cindy cast a scathing glance at them. “Knock it off!”

  “Falcon Eddie started it,” said Pebo.

  Falcon Eddie looked away so that Cindy couldn’t see his sheepish eyes.

  Cindy turned her attention back to White Robin and regained her comportment. “Savanna is alive and well, staying over half a day’s journey from here with my flock. She is injured and could not travel. She gets better with each passing hour. She misses you badly.”

  Levi’s words echoed in his ears. You’ll find a girlfriend or she’ll find you. Then together ya’ll fill that sore and empty place in your chest back up to where it was when ya’ll lived with Momma. A wonderful sensation washed over him. Like the falcon hawks, that sore and empty place in his chest was now gone.

  “I miss her too,” he answered. “Can we relax now? The falcon hawks are gone.”

  “Yes, of course. These are the scouts who volunteered to help me find you; that’s Swifty, that’s Dodger, that’s Pebo, and that’s the Mighty Falcon Eddie. He charged that momma falcon head on and jabbed her in the eye.”