by Loren Logsdon

Bryce Nimbus awoke with a start, sat bolt upright in bed, and wondered what had disturbed his deep and delicious sleep. Ordinarily, Bryce would go to sleep and not awaken until the alarm sounded. Clearly, something was amiss in his life. He wracked his brain, but could not come up with an explanation. Finally, Bryce resorted to a strategy Professor Markem had suggested when Bryce complained in English 101 that he didn’t have anything to write about. “Make a list and then cross items out one by one; you are bound to find an answer to your problem,” Markem had said.

Bryce visualized a blank sheet of paper and made his list. It was 25 items long. One by one he eliminated the items. When he reached the last item, he discovered the answer: “Find a Christmas present for Aunt June.” Sure enough, Christmas was one week away, and he still hadn’t gotten a present for his favorite aunt.

Bryce always made a point to buy a special present for Aunt June. Ever since he was five, he had adored Aunt June; and he, in turn, was special to her. It was one of those rare human relationships where two people are so temperamentally suited to each other that they almost share the same spiritual and emotional identity. They seemed joined at the hip, as the saying goes.

In the past, Bryce had never settled for just any present for her as most nephews would. Her present had to be extraordinary. He recalled when he was eight he had saved his money and bought a Ronco Vego-Matic for her. Then at 12, he sent her two tickets to the Slim Whitman concert at the Civic Center in Peoria. Of course she invited Bryce to accompany her. When Slim belted out “The Indian Love Call” followed by “Rose Marie,” Bryce saw the sheer delight etched on Aunt June’s visage, and he vowed that every year he would find a gift that equaled that joyous reaction.

After a Spartan breakfast, Bryce drove to Peoria to begin his search for this year’s Christmas present. Peoria’s two large shopping malls yielded nothing remarkable. He was sure Christopher and Banks would have the perfect outfit, but nothing knocked his socks off. The same with Bergner’s and also Kohl’s. He almost settled on a stone troll at Jeffrey Alan’s, but the creature wasn’t ugly enough. A novelty shop had an “Impeach Earl Warren” t-shirt, but that wasn’t turkey-chic enough.

Bryce was walking by a pet shop, and he decided to go in and look around. The instant he entered his eye caught the perfect gift. It was a gorgeous parrot, whose bright colors of red, orange, green, yellow, blue, and purple almost took his breath away. Best of all, this parrot had a distinctly aristocratic air about it, an aloofness that is often seen in people who consider themselves the crème de la crème of high society or the intellectual snobs of the academic world. Without any doubt this bird was no ordinary parrot. “Perfect,” Bryce muttered to himself. “Aunt June will love this bird.”

Bryce approached the proprietor, who bore an uncanny resemblance to Joe Biden, and asked, “How much for the parrot, my good man?”

The Joe Biden look-alike guffawed and said, “Friend, you can have this bird for five thousand dollars.”

Bryce was tempted to say, “Who do you think you are, a Chicago politician?” But instead he whistled softly and said with a calculated nonchalance, “Isn’t that a rather steep price for a bird?”

“My friend, you need to know that this bird can speak ten different languages fluently. This parrot is a very special bird.”

Bryce still thought the price was too high, but he was convinced that the parrot would be the finest Christmas present he had ever given Aunt June. So he told the proprietor he would buy the bird if it could be shipped to arrive precisely on December 24.

“No problem,” the jovial fellow said. Then he rolled his eyes heavenward and guffawed again.

Now Bryce’s greatest pleasure came from Aunt June’s reaction to his presents. Usually she was effusive in her praise. But Christmas day came and went without a word from her. Two days went by and still nothing. Bryce was puzzled because he was certain that Aunt June would be delighted with the parrot.

Finally, Bryce could wait no longer so he phoned her. “Aunt June, did you get the Christmas present I sent? Did you get the bird?”

Aunt June replied, “Yes, Dear, and it was delicious, scrumptous, better than goose or turkey.”

“Good God! You ate that bird?  That bird could speak ten languages fluently. And you ate it?”

“Well, why didn’t it say something then?” Aunt June said.

Dr.  Logsdon is the much-loved English professor who has inspired students at Western Illinois University and Eureka College for many years. He lives in Eureka with his wife, Mary, and writes a weekly story for the Woodford County News Bulletin.