Emma was staring at the empty space before the lunch table. Fortunately, only Grandma Brigid was there.
A sumptuous feast of Caesar’s Salad, luscious meatball spaghetti topped with cheese, fried breaded spicy chicken, multigrain loaf, and red wine lay before the two, on a brown and beige light sunflower mantle, but they might have been birdseed. A red robin dive bombed for a drum stick, barely escaping the old woman’s swatting gnarled hand. “Drat! You dare touch my hen again. You’ll eat birdseed I tell you,” turning to the silent girl, she turned all motherly, “now child, why don’t you touch your lunch, prepared by seven fairies, the best Italian cooks in the carnation pot.”
“I’m not feeling hungry, Gran’ma.”
“Something’s brooding between those Jackie O eyes of yours? Let it out, dear, or I’ll have a leprechaun peruse your memoirs,” she cooed, smiling, showing her shiny braces. Emma couldn’t hold it much longer. She sobbed. A squirrel held up a meatball.
“Can’t you see we’re…take it. Out!” she pulled her chair closer, placing an arm over Emma’s shoulder in a Yale U sweater, “What’s wrong? Did I miss something? Oh child, you know Ol’ Brigid can be trusted. Tell me now, hush now, out with it.”
“Darren must have slipped me a ruffie. I woke up naked beside him. I couldn’t believe it. I liked him, but this was…aaawwww.”
“That boy…date rapist,” her tone emptied the table of animals. Brigid’s 200 year old eyes narrowed so much she looked Korean, “I have a surprise for him, no one rapes my grand daughter and flies away like a birdie. Hmmmm, yes, he’ll have his birdie.”
“Dude, that’s totally awesome bro. You got the hot chick!” Darren’s friend was incredulous as he smoked chilly campus air under an oak.
“No sweat, bro. She just landed right into my arms,” Darren puffed his chest like a Hun.
“Sweet! You’re the man!” Darren exchanged high fives with the two.
“Bro, what’s that wriggling bulge in your crotch?”
“What the?” Darren had pulled his button fly a bit too strong as overwhelming panic set in, laying bare a white Jockey® brief unnaturally contorting forward.
“You have a hamster there, dude?” Darren slowly took a peek, at the same time his friend quickly inspected the opening as he stood close to him, “Geesh, it’s a bird!”
Darren was frantic now, “How did this, oh my!” He had pulled the garter under the feathered creature.
“Dude, that’s gross!” Darren ran, fell, and tried to get out of the school grounds as fast as his legs could carry him, fly still unbuttoned. Coeds started pointing.
“He had a pet bird in his crotch, sweet!”
“Dude, it grew where his cock supposed to be. Yuck! Freaky, It looked at me!”
“Well, child, you are as good as new. I cast a spell making you a virgin again.”
“Oh, jeez, please,” Emma’s hand flew to her Hill Valley High, her solace in the garden swing swung away by Brigid’s news.
“Yes, you need not fret about his taking away what is yours by divine right,” the old gentle crone was beside herself with this one.
“Gran’ma, I’m 22. I can’t be 22 and still be a virgin!”
“What’s wrong with being one? I cast myself and had been since 2005.”
“I know your intentions are very, very good, Gran’ma, but, let’s get back to the real me here, please. I lost mine when I was sixteen.”
“You never told me and your mother.”
“Oh, why don’t we have a ‘discuss your sex life with the family’ time every dinner? That’d be so informative.”
“Why not?”
Darren was pale. He looked hungrily at the Whitecastle Burger billboards and MacDonald’s Big Macs emblazoned on the sides of buses. He missed them, but he was hungry for something else.
“What can I do for you, memsahib?” a Sikh pet shop owner asked from inside, surrounded by birds, aquariums, and cute puppies in cages.
“Can I have…um….birdseed, for takeout.”
“For what type of bird?” the turbaned Indian noticed Darren’s light gray Dockers bulging actively, “New York, me love this place. Full of interesting things, yes?”
“Just give me an ounce of everything, will ya,” he handed him $20, “you can keep the change, just hurry up.”
“On the double-double, sir.” Singh was whistling as he went to the storeroom at the back. He stopped as he heard an unfamiliar chirp, “I don’t remember having a new bird,” he proceeded.
“Oh please, why is this happening to me? I promise I’ll marry her just take this away from me.” Singh came back out. Darren had his hands spread in supplication and looking toward the ceiling.
“Sahib, the synagogue is just around the corner,” he went back in.
“You did what?” Emma was assaulted by more wierdnesses.
“Serves him right, Emma darling.”
“Grandmother, I beg you, bring him back to normal, or else I’ll inform the Executive Coven of your indiscretionary actions. You can’t be casting spells and making freaks in America. We can’t be featured in Oprah. Remember Salem?
“I was there. Alright,” Brigid closed her eyes and whispered under her breath. “Done.” Her eyes had an “Anything for you dear” twinkle.
“Sheesh, poor Darren. I hope he’ll be fine after this.”
“Christian forgiveness is such sweet sorrow. Catholic school has taught you well, my favorite.”
Darren noticed a change. Ceased movement. But the feathers, he still felt. He opened his fly, pulled down his boxers. His member came back, but some feathers stuck to his curly brown rug. “Yes! I’m healed! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he cried to the ceiling. The noise forced Singh out.
“Oh! Sir, I know this is New York. I have a wife who looks like a man, but I certainly not gay,” he covered his eyes, “Gay bar is in next street.”
“Yahoo!” Darren was overjoyed as he ran out of the pet shop. He was making leaps, feet clapping in mid air, when he met two city cops. “Dudes, look, I’m healed!” he pointed to the sky, “Prayer can heal you and you.” They cuffed him.
“Hey, you can’t do this, I’m going to propose marriage to Emma!”
“If this is not public indecency, I don’t know what is,” they led him to the squad car, New York crowds didn’t seem to notice.
“Dude, I have to marry her!”
“Button that fly, Officer Ramirez.”
“No, you do it, Officer Roberts.”
“Dude? Dude!”
And they lived happily ever after.
