Thirteen ways of looking at a blackbird

Unlucky thirteen. Yes, Rick was thirteen years old. It was his thirteenth birthday and he did not have so much as a cake to cheer him up. Rick was, in the true sense of the word, an anomaly.

Thirteen years prior, his father had been gleefully expecting his son in the maternity ward. His wife had gone into labour prematurely and they rushed to the hospital. Mr Fernandez was there by his lovely wife's bedside, a first hand witness to the miracle of life. His mood changed dramatically when little Rick came out. He was black, which was a problem since both him and his wife were fair. After that, all hell broke loose.

Mrs Fernandez tearfully admitted to having an affair with a colleague at her office. She begged her husband to forgive her and move past this, but he steadfastly refused. His pride had been punctured and his ego had taken a hit.

The divorce was messy and the worst part of it was that Mr Fernandez got custody of the infant Rick- a walking, talking personification of his wife's betrayal, and he never let him forget it.

Now, thirteen years later, Rick was still reminded of it in every single waking moment. His father remarried and he had two “white” step siblings, just like his father wanted. They got all the love and affection that was rightfully his. His family barely even acknowledged his existence. He was a stranger in his own house. But he had one friend.

A blackbird's nest was just outside his window. The blackbird sometimes came into his room. At first, it just flew around for a bit before flying out again, but soon it began to sit next to the morose figure of Rick and chirp incessantly. He found it amusing to the extent that he would leave out crumbs and biscuits for it.

Over the years, the blackbird became his companion. They had more in common than just colour. Like him, the blackbird is the proverbial pariah of the avian community. Few people tolerate a blackbird nest on their ledges or even on the trees. Blackbirds neither possess the colourful plumage of a robin or the sweet voice of a nightingale or the graceful flight of a jay. They are the outcasts, except to Rick Fernandez. For he understands what it is like to be a blackbird.

Every year, Rick found more in common with his feathered friend. Every year, he found one more way to look at it. Thirteen years, thirteen ways.

Now, as the rest of his family have forgotten about his birthday and gone to the country fair to have a great day, he is once again in his room with his old friend. He softly sings “Happy Birthday” to himself and the blackbird enthusiastically chirps in accompaniment. To the world, the chirping is a distasteful cacophony, but to Rick, it is the sweetest symphony on Earth.