After giving him an eye roll, I slide into the vacant chair in front of the woman. Before I can pull out any cash, Elias tosses her a five.
So, this really is a date.
A hot flush prickles over my skin.
“Pink feathers?” the woman asks. “You look like a pink girlie.”
Since I love pink, I nod and let her paint my face like I’m ten years old again. When she finishes some time later, I love the pink and white feathers fanning out over my cheeks.
“You next?” the woman asks Elias.
Before he can undoubtedly turn her down, a little kid shoves past him and takes the seat, thrusting money at the woman. Wetake that as our cue to leave. When we come up to a bird cage booth, I smile at seeing Rudy.
“Hey, Dad,” Elias says as he gives his father a hug and then stows the wind chimes behind the table. “How’s business?”
“Selling the small ones fast.” Rudy looks over at me and chuckles at my face paint. “You enjoying yourself, Nora?”
“Absolutely.” I beam at him. “And you?”
“BudgieFest never disappoints.”
We chat for a few more minutes and then we leave Rudy to deal with more customers. Elias takes my hand again like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Everything’s great until we come up to a packed booth. Panicked chirps behind excited people yapping tells me we’re at a breeder’s booth.
Grandma used to tell me not all of them are bad. She was even friends with some good ones. But the stench of bird poop that’s been hanging around for a while tells me these aren’t the good people.
“You sure you want to go look?” Elias asks, voice low and gravelly, somehow finding my ear despite all the chaotic noise.
A particularly sharp chirp has my heart rate skyrocketing. I give him a panicked nod. Then, because he’s a massive man, albeit a slow one, he plows his way through the people and makes a way for me to see the birds in distress.
The scene breaks my heart.
There are close to a hundred of them in disgustingly filthy cages, packed in like sardines, all of them stressed to the max. People are thrusting money at the breeders like they can’t make the transaction quick enough. Odds are some of the buyers will be good parents to these birds, but it’s a small number. It’s reminiscent of people giving out goldfish as prizes at a carnival. It’s bordering on cruel.
I can’t save a hundred budgies. I’m in the middle of trying to rehome the few I have left. Helplessness claws at me. My breakfast curdles in my gut.
“Come on,” Elias growls, tugging me away from the madness.
My breaths come out short and uneven. A wave of dizziness washes over me. He all but drags me to a space between two tents. The breeze rushes though the area, instantly cooling me off.
“Stay here,” he instructs. “I’m going to find you something to drink.”
I nod and squat, trying to catch my breath.
No wonder Grandma spent all her free time trying to rescue these budgies. This is abuse and neglect. I feel so helpless.
I’m on the verge of a massive breakdown, but I breathe through it. I may not be able to save all these budgies, but I can do other things. Like figure out who allows these people to come to BudgieFest in the first place. There should be permits or requirement or some sort of inspection that these people must pass first.
Who’s in charge around here?
As if I’ve summoned him on thoughts alone, a man clears his throat, his voice echoing through speakers throughout the outdoor expo area.
“Welcome to BudgieFest, my friends!” the man booms, voice so loud my eardrums hurt. “I’m your mayor, Gregory McDonald. We’re thrilled to host this annual event and are so happy you’re here. There are enough budgies for everyone, so please be courteous to your neighbors in line.”
Disgust ripples through me. At least I have a name now.Thanks, Grandma.That felt like divine timing.
“Oh, what’s that now?” Gregory’s laughter rattles through the speakers. “We have a guest that is very adamant to speak.”
For a moment, I wish it were Elias to tell all these people off. Or Grandma back from the grave to scare everyone away. The voice that comes out next is familiar, though neither of theirs.
