Tips: 0.00 INK
by Nils on Wed Dec 27, 2006 1:13 am
OOC: Hope you all don't mind another character joining.
Miles away from the staggered, rough city skyline, a slick black car cut through the verdant fields of the countryside. Along the dirt path, grass and soil and gravel sprayed every which way as the vehicle wended crazily through the grass as if driven by a madman.
Within the darkly tinted windows, the driver hummed along with the opera that streamed from the stereos, as clearly and crisply as if he were the conductor, an entire orchestra before him, conducting it with the passionate, yet precise turns of his steering wheel. With each cresendo, the car engine rumbled to a roar. When the tempo jumped to a presto, he swerved sharply to match the climax. With the mahongany voice of the tenor, he drove fast and far, almost floating across the flatness of the land.
Appearing along the horizon, as the tenor's warm voice held his note, a small set of low-lying buildings came into his view. At this point, he reached to turn off the opera and roll down the windows. With a rush of wind, the country air knocked his neatly combed hair into unruly strands. He caught sight of two women in white heeding a group of children who were also clad in white. At this distance, they looked like sheep, their faces following the approach of his car with unreadable expressions.
The gentle smell of encroaching rain pleasantly mixed with the aroma of the car's leather interior as he slowly braked, bringing the car to a milder speed to park next to one of the low-lying buildings with a sign marked The Elysian Fields Home.
The doctor had many things to do, but he made time to meet with the children. A little girl or boy who didn't have any hair and dressed in a simple shapeless white tunic ran through the grass toward his car.
"Dr. Birdie!" she shrieked.
"Elysia!" he called. These children had no names, but he humored them. He scooped the frail-looking child into his arms. A shadowed expression flitted across the doctor's face as he noted that she was lighter than the last time he held her.
"I have a question for you, Dr. Birdie," she began, using his nickname used among the younger children.
"And what question is that, Elysia?"
"I was wondering what type of bird you are, Dr. Birdie."
"Why, that's not a question."
"You know what I mean! Then what type of bird are you, Dr. Birdie?"
Strange question, thought the doctor, but he, of all people, should have known the children of the Elysian Fields Home well enough to know that they were articulate to say what they meant. "And not what type of bird I would be?" It delighted him to see them make such distinctions, such progress in their thinking at such a young age already.
She shook her head, focusing her large smoke-gray eyes on his face seriously.
"Hm," he said, making his eyebrows furrow so dramatically that the little girl in his arms broke out in a giggle. "I suppose I am... a magpie."
The little girl wrinkled her nose. "But those are nasty, mean birds."
"And they also steal things. Shiny things."
"That's worse!" she laughed gaily as the doctor pecked her on the cheek. "But why are you a magpie, Mr. Birdie?"
They had reached the entrance to the building. He set the little girl named Elysia onto the ground, but she refused to undo her clasp about his neck. "Because, Ellie, I also steal things. Now go, run along before I steal something from you!"
The girl gasped playfully and asked, "And what would you steal from me, Mr. Magpie-Bird?"
"I would steal... the twinkle in your eye!" he shouted suddenly, tickling the child, who leapt away nimbly, shrieking and giggling as she sped off around the corner. He waited until he heard the patter of her feet fade away before he made his way toward the office.
He shed his tweed jacket and donned a long, immaculate white coat. To Elysia and the other children, he may have been known as "Dr. Birdie." Only the younger children, however, used this name. To the others and the ones who knew better, he was called Dr. Albert Vogelsang.
Tip jar: the author of this post has received
0.00 INK
in return for their work.