I haven’t been able to sleep since the pigeons got into the house.

It’s not like they keep me awake, just seems like their arrival coincided with my insomnia.

Now it’s me, Butch-Cassidy, the Sundance kid and The Wild Bunch.

Butch-Cassidy is home again. Steven left him here when he came for breakfast.

“Take care of your dog. He needs you, not me.”

Butch-Cassidy is the only reason I leave the house. He needs food. He needs to walk. I don’t need food and I could probably lay in bed forever.

Maybe I need him more than he needs me.

The Wild Bunch showed up about a week later. They must have realized my love of Wild West outlaws and figured the dog and the fish needed a gang.

They’ve made a roost in my pantry and since I’ve stopped buying food, I cant bring myself to care. They live next to an old box of knock off cereal and a container full of sugar.

Steven told me to get rid of them, but I’ve gotten used to the cooing– that and for being such chunky, slow birds they are rather difficult to catch.

After a couple attempts I made peace with them being my new roommates.

There’s flapping here and there throughout the day as they explore the back porch, but I drew the line at them actually coming inside the kitchen.

I don’t want bird poop on my things.

They got in the day of Butch-Cassidy’s bi-annual bath. I left the back door open while I chased Butch-Cassidy around the yard trying to bathe him.

Took me three hours to get him fully clean. When I came inside exhausted and wet and covered in white fur. I heard movement and immediately called out for my mother.

She is the only one with keys. Well, Steven has keys. I’m alive because Steven has keys. But Steven works during the day. I didn’t expect him to be over.

There was no answer.

Butch-Cassidy ran past me into the house.

My guard dog.

“Get him, Butch!” I yelled. “I don’t know who you are, but Butch Cassidy has killed before, and he’ll kill again!”

No answer. But there was wild barking from the pantry and the sounds of the last remaining food items crashing to the floor.

When I got inside I found Butch barking like a maniac at my three intruders. Three chubby little pigeons huddled together on my top shelf rustling their feathers and looking around warily.

“Could’ve been worse, could’ve been rats that got in,” I told Steven.

“Pigeons are flying rats.”

“Aw, I think they’re cute.”

“You’re in denial.”

“No, that’s a river in Egypt.” I laughed at my own wittiness.

“That’s not how that joke works.” He groaned.

“I thought it was funny.”

“They’re gross.”

“I will not have you speaking ill of the wild bunch in their own home.”

“This is not their home. It’s yours.”

I asked him to help me get rid of them, but he told me that was my job, and then hung up on me. He was still angry with me. I had avoided him for months after I was released from the hospital. And now I was calling him about my pigeons like nothing ever happened.

Getting the birds out felt impossible. They seemed to have grown tired of the wild life and chosen my pantry to retire in.

“Last call you crazy bandits!” I’d taken to leaving a little bird bath kind of water dish for them at night before going to bed.

I’ve caught them splashing in the water and it’s unbelievably adorable.

The birds give me something to focus on. Just like the dog. Just like the fish. Lives that are entirely dependent on me. In their own weird way they give me a sense of purpose.

My God, what has become of me?

I leave the water dish and head to the living room and sit on the couch.

“Butch-Cassidy!” I yell. And immediately I hear the jingling of his collar and the pitter patter of his paws as he trots from my bedroom to the living room.

“Up-up, little man.” I pat the cushion next to me, waiting for him to jump up. He hops on easily and stomps around in circles, kneading the couch until he deems it comfy enough to lay–which he does with his head in my lap.

“Good boy.”

I looked around for the control when I heard knocking at my door. Butch-Cassidy leaped off the couch and ran barking to the door.

I stood up, groaning at being inconvenienced after plopping down in my comfy spot.

“Who is it? We don’t want it.” I yelled.

“Open up, Genesis. You’re being evicted.” Came the voice from the other side of the door.

I run to the door, undoing the chain and flinging it open.

“Walter Carmine, don’t you dare evict me!” I scream before throwing myself at him.

I hadn’t seen Walter in months. I understood why he didn’t see me. He  couldn’t face it. I forgave him for it. Also when one of your best friends is the owner of your apartment building and hasn’t demanded you to pay your rent, you look past the fact that he couldn’t face seeing you in the hospital or during that time when you wouldn’t leave your bed and your mother forced you to shower.

“I heard you’re housing vermin in my building and I can’t have that.” He was holding a metal cage in his hand.

“Who told you about the Wild Bunch?” I asked as he walked in.

“You would name them wouldn’t you?” He shook his head and walked towards the kitchen.

“What? I couldn’t just call them the pigeons. That’s so déclassé.”

“Your mother called me and told me to do my job as a landlord and get rid of them. I told her, her daughter needs to pay her rent first and she told me who wants to pay rent when your apartment is infested.” He stopped at the pantry door and smiled. “It’s not easy arguing with your mother.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Ok, I’m going in. Shut the door behind me. I’m not coming out till I have them.” He opened the door and closed it quickly behind him.

“Oh my God, Genesis, have you been feeding them?”

“I couldn’t let them starve!” I was happy he couldn’t see me turn red.

There was flapping and angry cooing as Walter worked on capturing the birds. I could hear him swearing at the birds and could only imagine the scene.

I heard the container of sugar hit the ground and Walter screaming profanities.

“Don’t hurt them!” I yelled.

“I’m about to kill them all and feed them to Butch-Cassidy in a minute if I can’t catch this last bird.”

There was more cursing and finally the slam of the metal.

“I got them!” I opened the door to find a very disheveled and triumphant Walter holding the Wild Bunch in the cage. “Grab your jacket. We’ll take them to the old apple orchard and release then far from here so they don’t get any ideas.”

If it was possible for pigeons to look pissed, these sure did. He set them on my kitchen table and pulled out a cigarette carton.

I shot him a disapproving look and he shrugged.

“I think I deserve this one.”

I looked into the cage of my former roommates. “I’m sorry guys Walter says you can’t stay here anymore. And if it’s between you and me getting evicted, I’m gonna have to go with you. But you’ll be happier in the orchard it’s nice there and you can steal school kids’ field trip sandwiches.”

They just cooed at me. Like a very cross pigeon version of “whatever.”

“Stop taking to the birds and let’s go.” Walter had a cigarette in his mouth and his car keys in hand.

“I’m coming.”

We pulled up to the orchard’s main entrance and parked.

“Ok Gen, I’ll wait for you here.” We both got out. Walter leaned against his truck finishing his cigarette. The orchard was not well lit. I could only see his outline and the glowing embers of the cigarette as I walked away.

I reached a picnic table and set the cage down. Three sets of beady eyes looked up at me.

“This is the end guys. It’s been swell.” I opened the cage. They didn’t move. “Um, get out guys.”

More staring and feather rustling. I sighed and shook the cage. There was angry cooing and the birds fought against each other to get out.

I could hear Walter snickering in the background. I looked over and he was throwing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out.

The birds were free and I could use my pantry again. Eventually. When I cleaned it and bought food.

I picked up the cage and and walked back to the truck.

“Good job, Gen. Please never keep a family of wild birds in that  apartment again.”

I hugged him.

“Thanks Walter.”

“You’re welcome kid.”

We got into the truck and drove back to my place in silence.

“Do you want to come in and watch a movie?” I asked when he parked.

“It’s late.”

“I don’t sleep and I could use the company.”

He turned off the car and opened the door.

“You’ll stay?” I asked, climbing out of the passenger side.

“One movie and I get to choose.” I groaned and smiled.

“Sure, you did just take care of my pigeon situation.”

We headed upstairs to a pigeon free apartment.

70. orchard, denial, ember, last call, insomnia, pigeons.

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