Mrs. Robin's Arc

Chapter 6 of 6

Mrs. Robin stood at the nest's edge the morning after the storm, counting her babies—one, two, three—before she looked out at what remained of the swamp. The water had risen and spilled over the marked paths, turning safe ground into mud. Then she saw it: the stone shelter where she'd guided the catfish had collapsed completely, its walls scattered across the flooded ground. The catfish lay in the open near a pale waterside stone, its body half-visible in the shallow water, exposed to every hawk and fox that might pass through. Her babies chirped behind her, their voices bright and curious. She turned and saw all three crowded at the nest's edge, craning their necks to see what she saw. Mrs. Robin's body went cold. She wanted to push them back to the center, to block their view, but they'd already seen it—the massive creature stranded and helpless below. Her smallest baby tilted his head and asked if the big fish was sleeping. She opened her beak to answer, then stopped. She could tell them to look away, teach them that some things were too dangerous to care about. Or she could show them what came next. She flew down to the swamp and began pulling at the scattered stones from the collapsed shelter, dragging them one by one toward the catfish. The work was slow and her wings ached, but she kept going. When she finally wedged the last stone into place, creating a low wall of shade over the catfish's head, she looked up. Her babies were watching from the nest, silent and still. They'd seen her choose. She flew back up and settled beside them, and for the first time, she didn't fear what they might learn from watching her.