I woke up and stretched my broad, sapphire wings and shook the water from under my feathers. I sat in my tree watching the sun rise in the east. Then looked down to look at the little town a little ways away. If I remembered correctly it was called Boston. I was a little scared to go back there after what I saw a few days ago, but I was hungry and maybe someone would pity a sad, little Blue Jay, like myself.

Now if you couldn’t already tell, I’m a bird. That’s right, a bird. My name is Safaia B. Jay. Now like I was saying, I was so hungry that I dared to fly over into the Boston area. After flying a little I saw a window that was ever so slightly ajar. I landed on the window sill and peaked inside only to see a man with dark hair, pulled in a braid, creating a picture of the event that happened only nights before. It ruffles my feathers to think of it now.

I watched him intently as he carved at the wood. Not soon after did another man come into view. “Paul,” he said, “How’s that engraving coming along?” The man named Paul looked up and said, “Not bad, all I need to do is paint it and it’s good to go.” He smiled at the man as he got up to go get his paints. The unknown man bent down to look at the carving closely. I looked too. It had men in fancy looking coats on one side shooting at the other side that was unarmed. Two men lay dead at the base of the frame. They wore simple pants, coats, and shirts.

“Say, Paul, what are you going to name this? It has to be something that will strike the hearts of every patriot that sees it. It has to be a name that will echo in the halls of the unwritten history of tomorrow!” Paul came back with a little box of paints. “Calm down, Robert. I don’t think we need to go that deep.” he smiled then placed a hand on his chin as he set the paints down. “Though it does need an extraordinary name.” He snapped his fingers. “I have it! I’ll call it ‘The Bloody Massacre’. What do you think?”

I thought it was a perfect name. Seeing all that blood that night was so painful. And sad. I watched the men cheer as they talked more about where to present the masterpiece for a little longer before I went back to my original mission. Finding something to eat.

The first thing I did when I woke up the next day was try to see where Paul and Robert had put up the engraving. I turned every street corner until I came to King Street. There it was, for every passerby to see. It was different for the last time I saw it. It was freshly painted and very detailed. It had words underneath it but I couldn’t read it. It was too fancy. “Look at this.” A lady said, as she walked by. “Those ruffians are at it again. Don’t they know they can never beat the king. I mean he is the king after all.”

I huffed at this idiotic statement. I’ve lived in the woods just north of town and I can tell you I’ve see squirrels smarter than this kings troops. As I flittered away down another avenue I can across a heavenly bakery. The smells that waffed out made me go dizzy and almost crass. I looked to see where the sweet smells were coming from and flew through an open window in the back.

“Here you are Paul.” I perked up at that name. When I turned my head there he was. The Paul from the other day. The one who carved the carving not half a mile away. Why would he be so close? I decided then and there to follow him as he walked down the streets. He stopped at many other shops that day. He went to the tailor’s, the grocers, and the shoe maker’s.

‘What could he possibly be planning?’ I wondered. Soon we can to a small Saloon that was very run down and practically hanging by a thread. He opened the door and I flew in before it could shut. In the dim light I could see a  table with men sitting around it. “Finally Paul. Where have you been?” One the men said. Paul chuckled. “Sorry I got a little caught up making sure no one was following me.”

I sat on one of the banisters and watched the men talk. “Now, in three days time the British will be planning an attack on us.” There was a brief pause. “Robert. You need to contact Paul to tell the minutemen and local militias where the Brits are attacking from. Land or sea.” The man named Robert started to go wide eyed. “But-but how?”

Paul put a hand on Rob’s shoulder. “Calm down. All you have to do is go to the bell tower and light one lamp for sea and two for land. Surely it can’t be that hard.” Rob mumbled something I couldn’t hear and all the men dispersed. I was soon flying over Paul again, following him to his little home.

I sat at his window sill like I had done yesterday and watched him enter the house. Only this time he noticed me. He patted me on the head and said, “I knew I had a shadow today.” He reached into his pocket and held out a handful of seeds. “Hear you are little one.” I jumped onto his hand and he slowly moved me as I ate from his palm.

He put me into a little cage with a swing hanging from the roof. “There. I hope you’re comfy. It’s not much but it’s suitable for a lovely bird like yourself I think.” I chirped in agreement. The next three days flew by in a blurr. All I know is I go a bell put in my cage and a little blue ribbon around my neck.

April had always been my favorite month. But one day Paul didn’t come back, and thanks to Paul respecting my wild nature, the cage door was still open. I looked around to see any traces of Paul, but there was none. I soon came upon the edge of the forest that surrounded the town. A bush shook and I heard the faint whinny of a horse. Fluttering over to see what it was I saw a black horse. Paul was riding it. I got right into his face and chirped frantically. “Shhhh....” he said, trying to calm me down. He looked up and under his breath he said, “It’s time.”

He grabbed the reins and yelled, “Hiya!” And he was off. Now, being as stubborn as I was I raced after him. I was pushing myself as hard as I could. Paul was shouting something but I couldn’t hear him over the sound of my beating heart. Why can’t this man just slow down?! And as if my prayer was answered, he stopped. I landed on the horses sattel in the back as Paul was dragged from his horse. Two men in red coats dragging him away. I never saw Paul after that. But I will forever miss him. My Paul.