You know the word: Serendipity? “The occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way: "A fortunate stroke of serendipity"
I’m beginning to believe . . .
“But you’re sure it’s okay that we’re here?”
Sally turned from the large, covered birdcage she had been contemplating
for the last couple of minutes and shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
“I mean, won’t we be in the way?”
She looked puzzled. “Not if you stay . . . out of the way.”
She had a point. Mom and I looked at each other and Mom shrugged.
I should probably mention that our discussion was moot. Mom and I were on the
train with Sally and her movie people, barreling toward the destination of her newest shoot.
And, apart from jumping off, superhero/train robber style, while
the locomotive was under
full throttle, we were pretty much committed . . .
The day had started out fairly normally.
Sun rising.
Breakfast.
Sally packing to leave for her next job.
Then the phone had rung.
From what I had picked up from Sally’s end of the conversation, their
location had just been cancelled—not an unusual occurrence in the modern, Covid
‘filming world’. And, wonder of wonders, a similar location found just outside
our fair city.
Okay, you have to know that this doesn’t happen often.
In point of fact, never.
So our family was a bit excited by the prospect of Sally filming
somewhere close.
Then when she had turned and invited Mom and me on the set, that ‘bit’
of excitement . . . blossomed.
And here, not two hours after that initial phone conversation, we
found ourselves enroute to sharing Sally’s exciting life.
I know what you’re thinking. Sally’s exciting life is often—usually—a
bit more exciting than the normal person is ready for.
What can I say? Covid has been boring.
Sally turned back to the cage and, with a single pull, slipped the cover off, disclosing
the fat, green parrot
that resided there. It blinked at her ‘owlishly’ for a moment or two.
“Hey, Herc!” Sally said, “say something funny!”
The parrot blinked one dark eye at her and dipped its head. “Pleased
to meet you!” the bird said.
Mom and I burst out laughing. “Did it say that by accident?” Mom
asked. “Or in response to . . .?”
Sally made a face at her then turned back to the parrot. “Herc! Am
I bothering you?”
The bird turned its head upside down. “Nope. Not listening!”
This time, even Sally laughed.
She looked at us. “This is Hercules. Isn’t that the perfect name? What
could be better than a parrot named after a demigod?”
“What, indeed?” I muttered under my breath.
“He’s the co-star of my new film, Jailbird. Sort of a ‘James Bond
if he was a bird’ theme.
He’s super clever!”
“Smarter than you!” Herc said, bobbing up and down.
Mom frowned. This was getting a little scary.
“He’s so clever that they have to put a special lock on his cage.
He’s gotten out of everything else!”
Herc walked along the perch to the lock on the door of his cage
and pecked at it a couple of times. Then he looked at Sally. “Please?”
“No way, Herc,” Sally said, laughing. “I’ve heard the stories!”
She turned back to us. “See? It takes two hands to make it work.” She
demonstrated.
The lock clicked free and in that moment, Hercules launched his
bright green and not
unsubstantial self at the door.
It burst open, knocking Sally aside, and instantly, a feathered ruffian
was leaping and flapping about the car amidst cries of “Not again!” and “Herc,
you idiot!” and “Eeeeeeee! There’s a bird in my hair!”
The door at the front of the car opened suddenly, disclosing the
movie’s director, Jamie Lassiter, whom Sally now knew on a first-name basis.
The woman instinctively ducked as Herc made a bid for the openness of the open
road—or whatever lay on the other side of the door Jamie had just exited—and,
in that split-second, Herc succeeded.
He didn’t escape totally.
I know you were probably worried.
Nope. Instead, he made it as far as the next car. The locomotive.
I probably don’t have to describe the chaos that ensued. The
shrieking engineers—did you know that a burly, coverall-clad man can scream
just like a little girl when properly motivated?
Yeah, it was news to me as well.
The shuffling and dancing of rotund male figures and the subsequent
and frantic application of brakes that effectively tipped nearly every
passenger—and much of the stored cargo—out of their seats and/or places of
security.
The breathless pause as everything finally came to a halt.
You know that pause—the one the precedes the looks of venom as
everyone begins to sort out a mess.
“Oops,” Sally said.
“Salleeee!” Jamie shouted.
Sally bounced to her feet. “Yeah, Jamie?”
“This was you, wasn’t it?!”
Sally shrugged and grinned.
I closed my eyes, expecting at any moment to see my sister’s fair
head rolling freely up the aisle.
“Please tell me someone had a camera going!”
A short, rather squat man seated up the aisle from us with a
camera pressed to his eye, got to his feet. “Always, James!”
“Thank God,” Jamie said. “Print!”
See? Serendipity.
What, for anyone else on the planet, would have been a complete
and total disaster was, for Sally, a career enhancer.
Yeah, I don’t get it either.
Each month, we participants submit words to our intrepid leader, Karen, which she then redistributes.
My words this month were:
And given to me by my amazing friend, Rena at: https://wanderingwebdesigner.com/blog
Enjoying yourself? Keep the party going with these other “Use Your Words” posts:
Baking In ATornado
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