Birds? They’re my life’s work now.
Her gaze was locked on the window to the back yard, filled with about 25 bird feeders of all different kinds.
BIRDS BY JOHN T ALTMAYER 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSSUE 141 PREVIEW
Tanner called me on my way home from work and asked if I could bring some beer. So I did. He was my friend, so I had to.
Plus it was a sad situation over there. Tanner’s only daughter was dead. Her name was Vivian, five years old. She was drowned by the Missouri River in a boating accident.
Tanner’s wife Jodi was at home when it happened and she would never see it as an accident. She blamed Tanner, reminding him at every chance that it was his carelessness that took her only source of light, the only thing she lived for, from this Earth.
It caused a divide between them so that they slept in rooms on opposite ends of the house. God never intended for them to live separately under one roof, but those were the circumstances.
When I got to Tanner’s place we stood in the kitchen drinking the beer and he talked as I nodded my head, and then he said, “Douglas, man, you know I love Jodi, but I just can’t take it any more. She won’t work, she won’t eat, she won’t talk to me.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I sipped at my beer and shrugged.
“You want another one?” Tanner asked.
“No,” I said. “I’m fine.”