Eagle

One of the few fun things about the process of moving is that I get to go through all my paper files as I reorganize everything. My favorite file to peruse is the one I have labeled “Writing.” The file includes the very first poem I ever wrote (or at least the first one I kept), incomplete stories written during high school health and economics and other boring classes, a Beowulf-style epic that was assigned in my twelfth grade English class, a treatise on the relationship between writer and reader from the same class, a hopelessly ill-formed science fiction story from my high school creative writing course, a smattering of poems from back when I first discovered poetry in AP English lit, a creative approach to a Humanities 201 journal assignment on the Song of Roland, and several other pieces, some good and some just fun to look back on.

One of my favorite pieces in this file is the original copy of one of my very first writing projects. I don’t know how old I was when I wrote it—elementary school, and probably earlier rather than later, but I’m not familiar enough with the evolution of my handwriting or artistic ability (it’s illustrated) to pinpoint exact years. It’s written carefully in pencil on grayish, wide-ruled notebook paper with jagged edges that show that it’s been torn from a spiral-bound notebook. And it dates from a time when I felt that writing a narrative was easy. All you had to do was write a beginning, middle, and end—I wasn’t yet bogged down by a conception of the formulaic or cliché, and a truly good story necessarily involved animals, tragedy, and annoying younger siblings. Simple.

I’ve always hated sharing my writing. In high school I inherited our family’s first word-processing-capable computer when we bought our second, and I would occasionally stay up late typing on password protected files, and I know I made my parents curious by saving and closing whatever I was doing anytime they opened the door.

“If you’re embarrassed about your writing, why do you write it in the first place?” my dad would ask. But I wasn’t really hiding my writing—I just couldn’t let anyone see the unfinished product, not until I really knew where I was going with the story, not until I’d ironed out all the grammatical errors and perfected the narrative. Writing was very personal, and I couldn’t bear the thought of something so personal being open to criticism, especially if it was worthy of criticism. And I especially couldn’t bear the thought of parents or grandparents or teachers looking at my work from the standpoint of an adult judging the work of a child, or even a teenager (although I know look at my own early work from that very standpoint).

But writing that I did a long time ago, that is only remotely tied to who I am now, is much easier to share. So for your reading pleasure, with the original spelling, grammar, and punctuation, I present my very first (and only) “novel.” But I will warn you ahead of time that over the years, the last several pages have somehow been lost. So alas, you will never know how it ends, and unfortunately I cannot remember myself.

Anyway, here it is.

Eagle

Chapter 1 – Eagle

Eagle was not an eagle. I didn’t know what kind of bird he was, but he was not an eagle! He was a strange bird from the start. He had silky, blue feathers that shone in the sunlight and dull orange feet and a beak of the same color, but the amazing thing about his looks were his eyes. They looked like pitch black beads. Even though they were black, they always seemed as if a fire was burning inside.

Chapter 2 – Finders, Keepers

I didn’t just buy Eagle at a store. I found him. It happened like this….

I was at my friend, Terri’s, house sleepping over. It was raining real hard. Terri’s little sister, Erika, kept coming to us, afraid of the thunder and lightning. She was four and a real pain.

I was getting a little annoyed; then the exitement came. Erika was shivering and wimpering in Terri’s lap when a sudden bright light filled the room. I knew it was just lightning, but I was afraid. It had been so close!

I dashed to the window to see if the lightning had hit something. Terri and Erika were close behind. Peering out the window, I realized that it had! It had hit a tree outside of Terri’s house and a fire had started.

We all dashed outside and joined the crowd gathered around the tree.

After the fire had stopped, I found Eagle. He was just a baby. The next had fallen off of the tree. The other chicks and the mother had died but Eagle had lived. Sparks had hit his eyes making him blind. “I’ll have to take special care of him,” Terri whispered. I turned to her smiling. “Finders, keepers,” was my answer.

Chapter 3 – The Training of Eagle

It was harder than I thought it would be to train Eagle. I think part of the reason was because he was blind but I’m sure it was mostly because he was downright stubborn!

The first thing I wanted to work on with him was flying. I had heard that birds fly naturally, but Eagle didn’t seem to understand that. He never did learn.

I couldn’t teach him anything! But anyway, he was a great bird.

[From the illustration:
Dear Diary,
I just can’t teach Eagle to fly! He doesn’t understand that that’s what he’s supposed to do! He’ll never learn.]

Chapter 4 – The Next Two Years

The next two years were wonderful! I won the state spelling bee, I entered Junior High, I went to the Eastern Coast for six months, but best of all, I had Eagle. During those two years he went with me almost everywhere! Perched on my shoulder, he would nip my collar and ear. It would be hard not to love him.

He picked up a couple of interesting habits. Whenever he sensed someone near to him he would flap his wings and shake his head violently. When someone besides me picked him up he would purposely topple over backwards then make a sound that meant he was hurt. He was a real commedian!

Chapter Five – Erika’s Rescue

Eagle could always sense where people and things were. That’s why Erika was saved. Here’s what happened…

Terri, Erika, Eagle, and I were sitting on a wall in my backyard. “Hey, Mellissa,” Terri said, turning to me suddenly, “let’s go to to the park!” “Great idea!,” I answered. “Can I go?”, Erika asked hopefully. “No!!” Terri replied stubbornly. “You’re too little!” Erika pouted. “No fair,” she wailed. “I’m running away!”

Of course, Terri and I didn’t believe her and headed towards the




And tragically, that’s where it ends. I assume they headed towards the park, and I think I remember that Erika runs away “for reals” and since the chapter is titled “Erika’s Rescue” she must be saved by Eagle, who (I’m quite certain) dies in the attempt, but not before heroically lifting himself into the air and flying for the first time in his life. I’ve set it up so nicely that it couldn’t possible end any other way, could it?

Ah, what masterpieces I could have produced had I actively pursued a career in writing!