They asked. (Buddy the Bird, Part 2)

I am alone.

By alone, I mean, Heather is gone, and I have the four children.

I tell them, "Ten minutes to get ready for bed.  Go!"

Lacey wanders into the kitchen where I sit at my computer.  She asks the question I have been been dreading for the past 26 hours.  "Ellie?  Have you seen Buddy?"

"Have I what?" I repeat stupidly.

"Have you seen Buddy?"

"Not recently, no.  Honey, did you hear what I said about getting ready for bed in ten minutes?  Hurry up now."

I grab my phone and text Heather, explaining the kids are about to subject me to questioning and immediate trial and execution.

Thankfully she is almost home and arrives about two minutes later.

"Mom, I have to ask you a question.  Where is Buddy?"

"Where is Buddy?" Lance repeats.

Lane breaks in that the movie was GREAT! and Heather stalls the inevitable and asks how the movie was as she snuggles down on the couch with the kids.  Lane launches into a several minute synopsis of the movie until Heather finally has to interrupt him, at which juncture, Lacey asks again,

"Mom?  Where's Buddy?"

"Where's Buddy?" Lance echoes.

"Well, I'm trying to tell you."

The kids are silent.  Heather glances towards me, but we dare not make eye contact.  Laughter just now would be very inappropriate.

"Well.  You know how yesterday was very windy, right?  Buddy...got outside..." (I appreciate the fact she doesn't say I took him outside) "and...he..."

She cannot keep a straight face.  The image of Buddy hopelessly squawking and flapping as the wind swept him up and away is too much.  She presses her hand against her mouth.

"What happened to him?" a child asks.

"He flew away," Heather squeaks.

No tears.  Just shocked silence.  Leanne slowly swivels her eyes toward me.  I try to look appropriately sad.

"I told you not to let him get outside!" Lacey exclaims.

"I know," Heather chokes.

"When did this happen?" Lane wants to know.

"Yesterday night.  I was hoping he would come back today."

Now follows questions about his well being: if he'll survive, if he's ok, and everything a child always asks about a lost pet.  Heather fields the questions well, but repeated through it all is Lance's insistent question, "But Mom?  What if Buddy can't fly?  But Mom!  What if Buddy can't fly?"

And always, the image of Buddy flying higher and higher until he disappears out of sight over the roof.  Buddy can fly, alright.  He just doesn't know how to steer.

Heather covers her face, and I have to duck out to hide my laughter.

The kids are upset, but it isn't as terrible an ordeal as we had anticipated.  After all, as Lane so philosophically points out after the worst has come out, "We were going to get rid of all the birds anyway."