Captive{ated}

Thirty-One: Blame

Waiting for Joy to do her business, I sat on the step leading into our house exhausted. There was still a chill in the air that morning, but I was fine to sit outside for a few minutes without a clock before getting cold. A sigh escaped me, the thought of facing today causing my stomach to twist.

A week had passed since Tabitha's death, and it was the first day class would be back in session. I didn't know how I was supposed to go back to that building and act like things were okay. Did I really deserve to be there? Perhaps if I had never agreed to teach, Tabitha would still be alive.

These thoughts of blame followed like a shadow.

I was never one to handle guilt well, and I had convinced myself that it was all my fault. That I was the one who told Tabitha to run away. That I helped her pack her bags. That I swam out with her and left her there.

It was all my fault.

I struggled to contain it within. Last night while we were laying in bed, I asked you if you were certain it was okay for me to have class again.

"Why wouldn't it be okay?" You asked me. "Things won't be the same, but it's okay for us to start to move on."

You didn't understand that I meant if it was okay for me to have class. It was as though all I did was do bad. I was a swinging wrecking ball, destroying more than just the life of a little girl but of that of a whole family. Putting my head into my hands, I wondered how I was supposed to face the day. How could I plaster a smile on when I still wanted to cry?

Suddenly, Joy released a bark, which she hardly ever did. This caught my attention, dragging me from my dreary thoughts. "What is it, girl?" I asked as I walked around the side of the house to where she stood.

The pitbull mix stood staring inquisitively at something on the ground, her tail wagging slowly. "Whatcha find?"

As I got closer, I saw tiny pink skin covered in fuzz. It's beak looked far too wide for its head and its eyes were closed. The baby bird hardly moved, but it was still breathing. I knelt beside Joy and inspected the little creature. "Poor thing, you must've fallen from your nest," I thought aloud.

At first it seemed a lost cause, but upon hearing my voice, it chirped and became more lively. Joy barked at this and my heart jumped. Maybe I could do something good,

No, I needed to do something good.

"Caleb!" I called as I carefully carried the bird inside. It weighed nearly nothing. "Do you have any old boxes?"

"In the closet!" you called from upstairs as you were getting ready for the day. "Why do you need one?!"

"Can you just bring a small one down?!" I called back. I grabbed an old rag and wrapped it, forming a circular like nest. I placed the baby bird in the center and turned to Joy, my ever faithful companion, "I hope you don't mind sharing your food, girl."

I filled a bowl with warm water and put some dog kibbles in, giving them time to soak.

While I got this ready, you came trotting down the stairs with a box as requested. "What's going on?" Your eyes met the makeshift nest on the counter.

"Joy found a baby bird that had fallen from its nest," I answered.

Your face became skeptical when you saw the frail baby, "And?"

"And I'm going to save it," I announced. Now that the dog food was all warm and mushy, I broke off a piece. It smelled and looked awful, but the baby bird was so hungry it would've ate anything.

"What are you doing?" You eyed it with a scrunched face.

"Back in grade school, I had a friend who rescued baby birds often. She told me you could use soaked dog food instead of worms to both feed and hydrate them," I explained.