“Would that really be such a problem?”
I shoved him aside and went to speak with the bird's owner despite Asher's demands that I come back. The man had dropped the mouse and was now crying and gnawing his yellowed fingernails.
“Sir?” I tapped his shoulder and spoke slowly like you might talk to a child. “We need to get Sophie under control before she hurts anyone else. Do you have any clue how we can do that?”
He blubbered. “She's usually so well-behaved. Guess all those bright lights and noisy gadgets were too much for her sensitive ears.”
“I might be able to calm her down if you can help me out.”
“Oh, God bless you, miss. I'm too old to be chasing her down like I used to do.” He tossed his pouch full of mice and a thick leather bag to me. “I carry her in this, and mice are her favorite treat.”
Sophie perched atop a sign announcing “Twelve Days of Christmas Spectacular Countdown Sale!” She was too high for me to reach, but this wasn't the first time I'd dealt with an ornery bird.
“Sarah, what do you think you're doing?” Asher bolted over the desk and sprinted after me, blood still dripping from his shoulder. “Look what that damn thing did to me. I don't want you to get injured too.”
“You're worried about me? That's a first.”
He looked hurt. “Not true at all. Remember when you slipped on the ice in the parking lot, hmm? You fell on your back and had the wind knocked out of you. Who was the one who sprinted across four lanes of traffic to help you up?”
I'd forgotten that. Five years ago it happened, and now that he mentioned it, I did recall the surprising jolt when his hand took mine and he lifted me out of the snow...
“Just because I tease you relentlessly doesn't mean a thing,” he assured me. “That's just the way I show I care.”
“You only care about yourself.”
He folded his arms and frowned. “You're wrong. I'll prove it to you.”
Overhead, the falcon took flight – and crashed directly into the mirror that lined the store's wall. The bird toppled to the floor and didn't get back up.
Fearing the poor animal had broken a wing or worse, I hurried to the scene with Asher in tow. I found Sophie stumbling about, dazed, in the 3D printer section.
“What do you suppose you're going to do?”
“She's stunned. This is our best chance at capturing her.”
He grumbled as I opened the leather sack. “You should have been a zookeeper instead of a saleswoman.”
Sophie eyed me warily as I approached. She dragged her wing and tried to limp away, but was going nowhere fast. Still, I knew better than to make any sudden moves.
“Easy, Sophie. I won't hurt you.”
I reached for her. She hissed and pecked at me with her sharp beak.
“This is a horrible idea.”
“Thanks for your input. Now keep quiet and stay back.”
I had to gain the falcon's trust, and there was only one quick way of that. I opened the pouch and discovered a half dozen dead mice, plus one large rat for good measure.
“I'll never get the smell out of this building,” Asher lamented.
I'd fed birds like this before, but always thought it was pretty gross. Now was no different. Still, the aroma of food seemed to have gotten Sophie's attention.
“Look what I got. Your favorite treat.” I held up one mouse and then put it in the open bag. “Come and get it.”
Then I backed away and waited. Sophie watched us carefully for a while, then shuffled into the sack to fetch the food.
Soon as she was inside, I tied the bag shut and picked it up gently. The bird, figuring out she'd been tricked, tried with all her might to escape.
Asher said nothing as I handed Sophie back to her master. He burst into tears when I gave him the wriggling bag.
“Oh, my baby. Thank you, miss. You're a kind soul.”
“She's hurt,” I told him. “Take her to a vet, all right?”
He promised he would. Only once he and Sophie left the store did everyone inside breath a sigh of relief.
“You're something else, Sarah,” Asher said. “I mean, I always knew you were a little bit crazy, but I never expected you to be a falcon whisperer too.”
“They're not so scary once you know how to handle them. Volunteering at the aviary is why I love birds so much to this day. I think they're beautiful, don't you?”
“Uh... No comment.”
He went to his office to get some bandages for his wound. I followed, figuring we had some things to talk about.
“Birds are feathered menaces, if you ask me.” He dug in a cabinet and produced a first-aid kit. “They always pick my car to crap on in the parking lot. And when I was a kid, one flew into my bedroom window and shattered it. Parents didn't believe me and I got grounded for lying. Damn pigeon.”
“Just another reason why we're wrong for each other. I've always wanted a certain bird for a pet. One of those red parrots with their tail feathers all different colors. Too bad they're so expensive.”
His nose wrinkled. “I can't imagine living in the same house with one of those things. Not only are they smelly and noisy, they can talk back in English – just like a bratty little kid. No thanks.”
I silently watched him clean the cut and put the bandages on. There were things we had to discuss, serious stuff, but I was unsure how to bring it up.
“So, you followed me up here. Must want something – the pleasure of my company, perhaps?” He winked. “If you know what I mean.”
“Can
