Bird Boy Part 2 (of Three) Mr Saunders industriously advanced on the poor boy, muttering something incoherent and probably unrepeatable on school grounds or in front of someone's mother. Typically, kids would be running for the hills or soiling their trousers at the sight of this mechanical slug of certain death inching animatronicly towards them, but this boy hardly batted an eyelash. He didn't even jump when Mr Saunders' nightmare- inducing voice quite bluntly interrogated "What do you think your doing, mm... feeding them rats?" To which the response was little more than: "They have to eat, mister." For such a small, chiming voice the effect those words had on Mr Saunders could have had the strength to to lift up a train and throw it so hard into the ground that it would shoot through the earth, come out the other side and enter orbit; no one innocently "Misters" Mr Saunders, especially not when the birds are involved. Mr Saunders, rage bubbling inside hem, was frozen in shock. He had far more than half a mind to give that boy what he had coming, but he was stopped by the high trill of the school bell. The boy looked up at Mr Saunders, and without the slightest trace of sarcasm said, "Bye Mister! Nice talking to you!" Mister Saunders cringed. The boy wheeled off. No one had ever talked to Mr Saunders like that, totally innocently. Mr Saunders was so shocked he forgot to scare away the birds. He was curious, and so he returned to the boy the next day. And the day after that, and the week after that and over several months, Mr Saunders visited the dark-haired, bright-eyed boy whose named turned out to be Joseph. Joseph mainly talked and Mr Saunders mainly listened; at first out of anger, then out of curiosity, then out of kindness and caring. Joseph talked about everything from his history assignment to little Tim down the road, but mainly he talked about the birds, always the birds.

Bird Boy Part 1 (of Three) Chirp chirp,caw! Coo, coo co- "Shoo you rats!" Interrupted a voice so spine-tinglingly raspy and deep that only a person such as Mr Saunders could've pulled it off. "And don't come back!" Mr Garfield Saunders, at the tender age of 65, occupied himself with the laborious task of maintaining relative cleanliness at St. Johnsonvilleburgh State High, being constantly irritated by the two banes of his #life. The schoolchildren who insisted on replacing every piece of litter he had just picked up, counted as one, the filthy brats. The second was the birds without which Mr Saunders would have about three hours of every day free from being bent over, scrubbing their scum. Mr Saunders was infamous for muttering as he shuffled around the school; one of the most audible words being birds, it was always about the birds. Mr Saunders had hobbled over to cluster of particularly stubborn globs of pre-chewed chewing gum adorning one of the tables and was scraping ferociously. Having finally wrenched the wretched so-and-sos from their spot, he noticed more incessant chirping from behind him. With a frightful popping noise Mr Saunders straightened up and whirred around with about the same speed as an oversize 18-wheeler....but students still fled from his line of sight all the same. Even the worst of the students knew better than to cross Mr Saunders. About 180 degrees later, a clear view of the source of dilemma presented itself. Under a tree, surrounded by brick and he flapping wings sat a lone wheelchair half-filled with a single, diminutive, human boy who had the nerve to feed the birds in front of Mr Saunders. About 180 degrees later, a clear view of the source of dilemma presented itself.