The Island Flamingo: Chapter 27
The Island Flamingo
“These were the most wonderful birds I had ever seen,” Miss Martha explained while she gave us coffee. “I had once thought of them as eccentric lawn ornaments of middle-aged women, ironic to say after you looked at my front lawn, but now they were in front of me. They waded in the pool and fluffed their feathers while they stood on one leg like expert ballerinas.
“There was one flamingo, who stared right into my eyes. At that moment, I felt a connection to that bird, much like love at first sight. After that, I visited the zoo every chance I could, if only to see them again. My life soon became centered on them and the brilliant pink they sported on their feathers. I painted my room and bought curtains, all of which were the same shade of hot pink. For my fourteenth birthday, I got a flamingo-style cake and a plush bird. Friends and family called me ‘Flamingo Martha,’ which was hilarious to me.”
“I can imagine that they gave you hundreds of pink-themed gifts.” I joked.
“She still has most of the pink stuff in the attic,” Louis said. “My cousins and I used to play in there and call it the ‘Flamingo’s Hideaway!'”
“After my time in college, I graduated with a master’s degree, majoring in ornithology, and became a full-fledged researcher of birds, traveling the world with some of the best scientists and researchers in the world at the time. They were surprised that a young woman could handle the dangers of jungles and high cliffs, but I took it all in stride.”
“You’re also a trailblazer then? That’s very impressive!” I said.
“Oh, please don’t flatter me,” Miss Martha joked. “I loved my research and subject matter.”
“On one of these journeys, while on a trip to research Chilean flamingoes, I found love with a young interpreter named Jose. After three years of dating, he proposed to me with, of all things, a glass flamingo engagement ring.” Miss Martha extended her right hand and showed it off.
“It’s so pretty,” I said, “How did he find it?”
“My dad’s family are glassblowers,” Louis explained. “They make glassware for locals and tourists, so he asked them to make a small ring for mom.”
We were married in the pinkest wedding you could think of. My dress and his tuxedo, the balloons, the dining room, even our cake was pink. Soon Louie came along, our ‘tickle-me-pink’ baby, and we taught him all the wonders of the bird world.”
“Mom, please don’t call me that,” Louis groaned.
“Well, I can’t lie to our guest, Lou-Lou!” Miss Martha whispered in my ear, “Hey Jessica, I’ve got some cute photos of Louis as a baby wearing flamingo onesies, I can show you if you’re interested. We had to buy two because he had a bad blowout in one.”
I nearly spit out my coffee while I laughed.
“MOM!” Louis blushed red as a beet.
“It’s okay Louis, your mom is so funny! I wonder what your dad is like.”
The instant I said that, the once bright mood shifted to somberness as Miss Martha sighed.
“Sadly, Jose died four years ago of a heart attack, and it’s been so lonely without him.”
“Miss Martha, Louis, I’m so sorry.”
Louis patted my shoulder and said, “You didn’t know, Jessica, it’s okay. It’s always hard for us to talk about Dad’s death. He was a fun and caring man, and we can never forget him. I wish you could’ve met him.”
“Louis’ right,” Miss Martha said, “We’ll always remember him and honor his life; that’s why I made this.” Miss Martha pulled out a large glass flamingo from a tall cabinet and put it in front of me and Louie.
“This was made in memory of Jose. His family made glass figurines for tourists, and they taught me about the craft. This thing took two years to make!”
“She went through hundreds of glasses to get it pink,” Louis joked, “and even more to curve it the right way!”
“It’s beautiful!” I exclaimed.
“Thank you so much, Jessica! You’ve got the gift of lying!”
We all laughed, but inside I felt a deep sadness that she didn’t even know the half of it.
Miss Martha was the kind of person whom I imagined Mackenzie Billings to be. I felt accepted and comforted by her warm personality and friendliness. Next to Louis, her presence was like a breath of fresh air from the oppressive atmosphere Billings had created at work.
I felt that there was no way Miss Martha, an ornithologist, would’ve been crazy enough to keep a live flamingo in her house. However, a loud honk from upstairs that made me drop my coffee proved me wrong.
