Again the cockrobin!
     I thought I had killed it. 

1.

The island’s residents smiled when they saw Johnny walking in shorts with a robin on his shoulder. No one knew that he had learned how to talk to the bird. Johnny was 17, lanky, and tall. He took long strides with deer-like grace and had the appearance of a boxer so deeply tanned that he could very well have been of mixed blood. 

2.

Even Johnny himself couldn’t figure out how he had acquired the ability to talk to the bird. He wasn’t sure whether he spoke in bird language, or if the robin spoke in human, or if neither were the case, and it was instead a special language unto itself. Occasionally he would try to observe himself objectively when talking with the bird, but somehow he would get so involved that each time he forgot to focus. He was certain, however, of two things: that he and the robin conducted real conversations, and that he and the bird considered each other their most trusted confidents. Johnny named the robin Words. And so this is the story of Johnny and Words. 

3.

There were many books in the island’s library. Among the language-related titles alone, the shelves were filled with dictionaries of languages spoken by indigenous peoples in locations like Tibet and Madagascar. There were canine dictionaries. And there were others: Concise Cat Language, The Companion to Mirror Ideography Deciphering, The Encyclopedia of Lunar Communication, The Dictionary of Creative Celestialese, The Comprehensive Dictionary of Invisible Entities, A Random Collection of Alice’s Insults and Verbal Abuse, The Dictionary of Antelopese–Revised Edition, Conversations of the Dead: A Beginner’s Guide to Verbatim Translation, The Complete Curse Companion, Hyena: A Three-Week Self-Study Language Course, The Dictionary of Elementary Fetal Language, and Famous Quotes from Humpty-Dumpty.

Yet, even among all these, there was not one book on bird language. So Johnny was the only person on the island (on earth, actually) who could talk to the bird. 

4.

“In bird words,” said the robin, “arms are called human branches. Shoulders are perches and legs are called moving roots.”

Johnny began to laugh. “So in human language that would make birds airplanes we can’t fly in.”

“In bird words, an airplane is the biggest bird there is,” retorted the robin. “We call a tree, a guy; a lumberjack, an executioner. A birdcage is a concentration camp. Someone’s messy hair is known as a boarding-house dive. We write letters on leaves and the wind is our mail carrier.”

“Fascinating,” said Johnny.  “I suppose a bird who sings beautifully is known as a chanteur.”

“Yes, yes. Older birds warble like opera singers, but young ones sing any way they want. They sway on tree branches and sing to their heart’s content. You won’t find skylarks just trilling along anymore.” 

5.

Johnny had a girlfriend then. Her name was Sephra and she was the daughter of the Consulate General. Sephra had blond shoulder-length hair and an air of archaic properness. She would often read Bronté novels with a basket full of flowers on one arm or paint pictures or make the automaton play the “Serenade for the Left Hand.” Or she might spend the whole day mugging in front of the mirror as she searched for the entrance to Wonderland.

Sephra once sang Johnny the shortest song in the world, which began with “lo-“ and ended with “-ve”. She sang it a cappella. There was nothing in between “lo” and “ve,” so it sounded rather like low-vee if you drew out the vowels a little. But since it was supposed to be the shortest song in the world, she sang it all in one breath, “love.” She sang it for Johnny three times and he fell in love with her.

Johnny and Sephra liked to spend the entire day in the consulate garden leaning on the white walls covered by tropical vines and talking about everything and nothing.

They would discuss, for instance, whether the swirl of a snail’s shell winds left or right, if six-pointed stars exist, if it is better to open your right or left eye when kissing, if you were to open your eyes at all. They liked to talk about where the most remote location in the world is, how to retrieve something you left in a dream by mistake, and how many different words there are in the world for “love.”

While these two were talking, Words sat on Johnny’s shoulder happily, sometimes nodding in agreement. 

6.

“So, what do you think of Sephra?”

“She is cute enough,” Words replied.

“Would you want her as your girlfriend if you weren’t a robin?”

Words thought for a moment and then said, “She is cute, but I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Really?! How come?” Johnny asked.

“She is a little too innocent for my tastes. I fancy a more mature woman; a bird who can soar high in the sky.”

“You’re pretty cheeky for a robin,” laughed Johnny. He didn’t truly understand what Words was getting at, though. Words had wanted to say, “Sephra is not bad, but I like you better than her, Johnny; and I don’t want anyone to take you away from me.” 

7.

A young man, a young woman and a robin—this trio got quite a reputation on the island for being so close. They had rambling conversations in sunny glades or on the lawn of the consulate garden. They talked about the fact that Marmalade, the cat, had eyebrows, about the Hatter’s twins who could even pee the same distance, about the fact that the most precise isosceles triangle on the island was the Consulate Secretary’s nose, about the romance between Dormouse and Smoky Mouse, about the map of Treasure Island that the seven-year-old Carroll knit at the caucus race without even knowing it. Every so often, Sephra would compose a song and sing it to Johnny.

     I wrote a smoky love letter
     with a smoky pen
     on some smoky paper.
     It vanished before you read it.           

8.

Unfortunately, tales of happiness don’t continue for long. Not a year had passed when Sephra had to give Johnny some sad news.

“Johnny,” she said, taking a rather formal tone, “we are going to have to leave this island.”

“What?!” Johnny was alarmed (in the meantime, Words had blinked a hundred times).

“Why?”

“The Consulate on this island is going to be shut down. My whole family is going to move to a neighboring island,” Sephra said.

Johnny shook his head in disbelief.

“So you are going to go and leave us here?”

“I have no choice,” said Sephra. “I don’t want to go, but it’s all been decided for me.”

“Sephra!” Johnny cried out. “You don’t have to obey. You’re going to stay here on this island!”

But Sephra just shook her head sadly. “I can’t. My father has already packed everything and we are scheduled to leave tomorrow by emergency order of the government.” 

9.

There was a lunar eclipse on the night of the move. The island sky lit up with a sickly pink glow as cart-full after cart-full of baggage was hurried from the consulate. Rumors of an outbreak of war spread through the island. Johnny got it into his head that he would take Sephra and Words the robin to “another island” so they could all live together, even if he had to abduct her. He didn’t know if he could live without her. Words gave Sephra a message from Johnny. He wanted her to remain in the consulate until everyone had left and then hide there until he came for her.

The move resembled an evacuation on the eve of war. The Consular Secretary’s family loaded all their belongings onto their assigned wagons and set off for the headland’s wharf. Like the Jack of Clubs, Sergeant Tomorrow, the all-too-serious man in charge of the move, shouted loudly: “Everyone out as quickly as possible. As soon as everyone is out, we set fire to the estate!” 

10.

Johnny waved the flag decorated with black wings, which was the signal. This was the plan: when he waved the flag, Sephra was to slip out the back gate, get into the wagon which would be waiting for her, and they would go in the opposite direction from the headland’s wharf, to a bay where they would sail to another island. There were mountains of kindling stacked up around the estate.

“No one is left inside?” shouted Sergeant Tomorrow.

“Hey, Johnny,” said Words. “We can’t get Sephra out of there. Can’t we just go alone, just the two of us?”

“Absolutely not,” said Johnny, shaking his head. “I don’t want to live without Sephra.”

“If everyone has exited the building, then we will begin the next stage of operations.” Sergeant Tomorrow’s voice gushed from the megaphone as he gave this last warning. With the announcement, the gatekeeper and the lazy old cat came tumbling out.

“Okay, that’s everyone! No one else is inside!”

Just to be on the safe side, Johnny asked Words the robin to go see if Sephra had indeed slipped out the back gate. Words made one cursory flight around the grounds and came right back.

“Everything is okay,” Words reported. “She is standing by herself outside the gate looking lonely and miserable.”

Johnny didn’t notice the robin’s vaguely sad expression.

“I see,” said Johnny.  “Let’s watch them set fire to our last memories of this consulate and then be on our way.” 

11.

Finally, they lit the buildings on fire. The flames spread before them, lighting up the sky in brilliant crimson. Johnny drew Words close to his burnished cheek and watched the fire, mesmerized. He couldn’t imagine, even in his wildest dreams, that his first love, Sephra, was burning in the conflagration.

Sephra had waited for Johnny’s signal, but she hadn’t been able to make out the black-winged flag in the black of the night. She had pleaded with Words, who had flown round, “Get Johnny to wave the flag as fast as you can! They’ll put off setting fire to the place for a few more minutes…” But Words never mentioned this to Johnny.

Tomorrow morning, Johnny will weep in loud lamentation when he discovers the charred remains of his Sephra, his precipitate 17-year old love. Thus this tale of a young man, a young woman and a robin will end.

This is a heartbreaking story of how learning to speak is synonymous with learning to lie. Johnny did not know that this was precisely what Words had learned.