FirstLineFiction beta

from Contest #5

“A boy with a parrot on his shoulder was walking along the railway tracks.” My father used to tell me that when I was a child. I am seventy-eight years old and am dying of lung cancer. You may be wondering why I am telling you my nonsensical facts, but I’m trying to remember why my father told me those words. I’ve been dying in the hospital for half a year now. The doctors said that the cancer was so severe, that I had less than a week left of me. So I called up my older sister and asked her to bring me something to the hospital. Yesterday, she came by to drop off a box of memories that I had kept for decades. I was going through the box when I found an old scrap of paper with “the phrase” written on it and paper clipped to the piece of a paper, was an obviously torn off piece of a photograph of a fake parrot.

 

            You see, I think he began to say the phrase when I was about four years old. My father was a director for low-budget films in what was called Hollywoodland. I would follow him around sets and get to see the B-List movie stars all dressed up and usually drunk. It was quite a sight to see at the age of four. My mother died a little after I was born due to complications during the birth of me so I was stuck with my father and my older sister. Since the three of us traveled a lot, there was always a tutor on set for my older sister and me. This following around went on until my father passed away in 1949 of alcohol poisoning.

 

“None of this makes sense Callie” I said to my older sister as I was lying in my bed of six months.

“I’m sure it doesn’t Ben. The cancer has destroyed a lot of brain cells and a lot of your memories. Listen, I wish I could help, I just really don’t know what you are trying to figure out”

“Well, dad used to tell me this phrase when I was younger. “A boy with a parrot on his shoulder was walking along the railway tracks.” I just don’t remember when and why he would tell me that.”

“Hmm. Well before dad’s alcohol problems started, he did help direct a short film that took place on the railway tracks near our house. Now I have to go but if you remember anything, please call me Ben. I love you”

“I love you too” I replied softly, and Callie left the hospital room.

 

Moments after she left, I opened up the memory box and found a piece of film. My sight was too poor so I couldn’t make out what the images on the film were of. I remember, in 1936, RCA came out with the iconoscope camera for filming. My father was one of the first people to own one and would use it all the time for his films and also for home movies. Maybe that’s where the piece of film came from, one of the old home movies. I only wish I had the rest of the film and a projector. I loved watching home movies after my father passed away. Callie and I moved in with my father’s brother Tim and he would let us watch home movie after home movie. Callie and I would always laugh at the home movies, but Uncle Tim would always cry. He and my father were really close. He would help produce the films that my father made. I guess when my father passed away, Uncle Tim became unemployed so the whole death was really hard on him. Maybe that’s why he would cry during the home movies. Maybe.

 

I’m starting to worry that I won’t be able to remember why my father said that stupid phrase before I die. Callie obviously never heard dad say the phrase and Uncle Tim died a few years after I started college and all the other relatives weren’t even alive at the time that my dad was, so they wouldn’t know the meaning of the phrase.

 

That night, I opened the memory box again and found a broken off piece of the bottle my dad would drink from all the time. He would always put whatever he could into the bottle before work. Whiskey, rum, etc. I rubbed my fingers along the rough edges of the bottle piece, closed my eyes, and smiled. I could hear my dad’s voice and then something hit me, hard. Not physically, but I was starting to remember the way he would say the phrase. Then the phone rang, it was Callie.

 

            “Hey Ben, how are ya holding up?”

            “Fine, I guess. Just holding that piece of broken bottle from dad” I laughed.

            “Haha, well dad loved that bottle. Sometimes I think he loved that bottle more than he loved us”
            “Nah, he loved the contents of the bottle more than he loved us”
            “That’s true Ben, that’s true”

            “Well listen Callie, I need to get my rest but I will call you sometime tomorrow morning. I love you”

            “I love you too” Callie replied, and I hung-up the phone.

 

            I really didn’t have to get my rest, hell I haven’t really slept much in days because I’m too scared that I’m gonna kick the bucket in my sleep and then I will never be able to remember why my father would use that phrase.

 

            I closed my eyes one more time to see if I could hear his voice again. After a few minutes, I could hear his whisper. It’s like he was in the room with me. He sounded drunk and then I started to hear his voice clearer and clearer. My memories started to kick in and began to flash back to when I was four.

 

            “A boy with a parrot on his shoulder was walking along the railway tracks” my father kept repeating as he would sip away at his bottle. My Uncle Tim and my father are staring at me. I’m in a room and there is a bright light in my eyes. I’m only wearing a fake parrot on my left shoulder and that’s all. My uncle and father are directing me around and filming me, naked, with my father’s new RCA iconoscope camera. He tells me that this is normal, that nothing is wrong or inappropriate with what he is doing. He tells me that this is just another film that he is doing and that everything will be okay. After my father films the scene, he cries as he kisses my cheek and my uncle kisses me too. Then, everything turns into blur.

 

            I wake up to tears rolling down my wrinkled face. I finally remember the significance of that line. My dad and uncle used to film me, naked, in various short films. I have no clue why I couldn’t remember that and am speechless now. I should probably tell Callie but I think I’m going to keep it to myself.

 

           After a couple of hours of crying, I finally go to sleep. Maybe I will wake up tomorrow, maybe I won’t, but I will die knowing the significance of that line.

back to Contest #5