The Bird You Ought to Ask

The Bird You Ought to Ask

Gary was back shortly after lunch, exactly long enough for Mr Jack Daw to find him.

“You said I ought to ask the bird who has that territory.”

“I did.”

“Where do I find him?”

Gary looked past the Oak towards the Fruit Tree. “I did not say I would give you directions.”

Before Mr Jack Daw could improve his question, a procession of long-tailed tits swept between them. Derek came down the trunk behind the travellers. Batman Smith attempted to stop everyone at once, on the reasonable grounds that something was happening and he had not approved it.

By the time the branch cleared, Gary had gone.

The Afternoon Argument

The Jacks took this as a challenge. They spread through the Oak, each claiming to have seen the precise direction of Gary’s departure. Their accounts could not all be true, but they had the afternoon to make them sound convincing.

Gary returned while they were still arguing. This time he kept to the outer branches, where Mr Jack Daw could reach him but the rest of the family had to pretend they were not listening. A warm, determined wind shook the leaves around them.

“Who told Stirling where it came from?” Mr Jack Daw asked.

Gary folded his wings. “Ask Stirling.”

“He suggested I ask you.”

“He has excellent manners when they cost him nothing.”

Gary left before Mr Jack Daw could reply. Soon afterwards, Stirling’s squirrels crossed the garden. Mr Jack Daw looked up at the empty branch. The Jacks gained a fresh argument: had Gary known they were coming?

Batman called it suspicious. Mr Jack Daw called it inconvenient.

The afternoon brightened briefly. Jay crossed with the concentrated expression he wore whenever anybody might ask what he was carrying. Mildred kept beneath the bird table. Derek investigated the Oak from a direction Batman still considered an insult to architecture. Dorothy the Goldfinch appeared for a moment, bright enough to draw the Jacks’ attention away from their case.

“Anything new?” she asked.

“Only that everyone refuses to answer everyone else,” said Mr Jack Daw.

“Then nothing new,” Dorothy replied, and went about her afternoon.

Questions in the Rain

A shower arrived with Gary’s next appearance. He took shelter among the higher branches while the Jacks tried, unsuccessfully, to decide whether asking a question in the rain counted as an ambush. Clive the Coal Tit hurried through below them. Jay made another brisk, private crossing. Gary watched the path by the Summerhouse, then looked away whenever somebody noticed.

A Procedure at Supper

By evening the rain had thinned. Robins filled the hedge and nearby perches. Barry the Great Tit arrived at the bird table and found the assembled Smiths discussing who had permission to stand where.

“Is there food?” he asked.

“There is a procedure,” Batman told him.

Barry found the food.

The Jacks were still awake when the Square settled, but Gary had left and their questions had nowhere useful to land.

Marjorie Keeps Her Place

Marjorie appeared after dark beneath a sky packed with cloud. The wind was strong enough to make the Oak sway. She took a branch facing the garden next door, waited, and seemed for once to find the silence entirely acceptable.

“You keep your place,” she said into the darkness. “I shall keep mine.”

Nobody answered. Marjorie did not demand a reply. Later she passed through again, paused as if there were something else to add, and thought better of it. Marlboro remained in her own garden; Harold did not arrive to interpret anybody’s intentions.

The night left the Square alone.

The Place Gary Left

At dawn the wind was still at work. Rain followed it into the garden and drove Brenda beneath the hedge, where she objected to both conditions separately. Steve and Mrs Steve searched the wet ground while Batman and other Robins made the upper branches busy. Barry returned with the practical confidence of someone who remembered where breakfast had been.

“He ignores every rule I set,” Batman complained.

“Your rules are not breakfast,” said Mrs Steve.

Gary put in a brief appearance before the rain grew heavier. He found Mr Jack Daw already on the Oak.

“Have you worked out where to go?” Gary asked.

“No. I am beginning to think you haven’t either.”

Gary’s expression changed, but only for an instant. Then he was away, and the Jacks spent the damp morning deciding whether the remark had offended him or proved their case.

Stirling’s squad arrived after Gary had gone. They moved through the Vegetable Garden while the rain eased and the clouds began to separate. Batman watched from the hedge, hoping for an announcement. None came. Stirling left before Gary returned.

By late morning the Square had dried enough for the Jacks to resume their usual places. Gary appeared once, vanished, then returned to find Mr Jack Daw waiting with a question he had finally made small enough to ask.

“Do you know the magpie who lives there now?”

Gary did not make a joke. For a moment he watched the clear patch of sky beyond the Fruit Tree.

“Yes,” he said.

Mr Jack Daw waited.

Gary looked back at him. “I used to live there.”

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