Flash Fiction #2 -- The Birdcage

JLP 11/22/2023

Written in under 1 hour with minimal editing; typos to be expected

"Mr Krelborn will see you now" said the secretary with a smart looking sleek black dress with sad eyes. I caught a fleeting peak of humanity in her glance. It was covered up as quickly as I recognized it, as she turned, with her arm extended towards the doors that dominated the room with their height, which had to have been at least 20 feet high. 'Krelborn Bros' was in shiny gold letters, with the two doors splitting the words apart between the 'b' and the 'o' which made the door on the right seem heavier.

The secretary opened the door on the left and kept her arm extended, making it clear that I was to enter the room. She gave a subtle look of encouragement, if not mixed with a touch of pity. I walked into the room, which had a gilded ceiling much higher than even the doors were. On the other side of the room, in silhouette from the sunlight streaming in from the impressive floor to ceiling windows, a figure rose from behind a desk.

"Who is this, Gwendolyn?" I looked behind me, presuming that his secretary's name was Gwendolyn but the door was already closed shut.

"My name is John Baker, sir. We met at your party last --"

"Ah yes, John. Come on in, have a seat." He extended his arm towards one of the dark brown leather chairs that sat before his desk. It felt like I was taking a long time to make my way across the cavernous office. I quickened my step. As I neared the chairs, Mr Krelborn lowered his left arm and reached out to shake my hand with his right. He looked into my eyes and gave what looked like a slight smile.

"Believe it or not, I don't make a habit of drinking at work but about a year ago one of my wine distributors brought a case here to the office by mistake and I figured, I'd just leave the bottles here. This is a little nicer bottle than we had the other night on the Cellophane Dreams but perhaps it brings us back to that space, where you captured my attention. Care for a glass?"

Undoubtedly, the wine on his yacht the other night was more than my monthly rent payment.

He came back from his wet bar with two glasses and set the bottle down on his desk. The sun continued to back light the whole experience. I could not read the label. The initial swirl and sniff told me this was a real treat. I stood to toast with Mr Krelborn and he came around the side of the desk and sat at the adjacent deep, very comfortable dark brown leather chair. I could finally see his face clearly. It had deep lines on his cheeks, but his forehead was smooth. He gave a genuine smile, his forehead stayed smooth but his smile fleshed out his deep creases, and tipped his large wine glass towards me and we gently clinked.

"So, John, as you well know we are always looking for the next big thing in reality television. Recently, making everything naked has been where it's at, but, that will have the course run soon enough. And there you were, on my boat last week, just sharing all your ideas to anyone who was close enough to hear you. And I heard one that I want to hear again. Do you know which one I'm talking about? Do you think this is why I asked you here?"

I did.

"I think I do."

I took another sip of the wine. I raised the glass a little bit and admired the way the sun rays lit up the legs of the wine as they moved down the sides of the glass. I took a deep breath. This was the moment I had been waiting for, after all.

"Okay. Before I get started, I want you to think about this premise -- the one you heard me discussing the other night -- as a premise that can be applied to any number of scenarios. Think of this as the new "naked"!

I took another small sip of the wine. I swallowed, savoring the whole experience. I then took another big, deep breath.

"You get a house and put 12 straight dudes in there together. You have advertised the show as kind of like a Big Brother, Survivor for the Gays, NSFW kind of show -- something you'd put on Showtime -- you know? All of the 12 dudes have been told that they are the only straight dude and that all the other dudes are actually gay, and that the goal of the game is to make it to the end of the game. After all, every episode someone will be voted off -- and the criteria for voting someone off? Yes -- that's right -- the suspicion that one of the guys is actually not gay. "

Mr Krelborn chuckled and swirled his wine gently around his glass. He didn't look up and I took this as a cue to keep going.

"You can imagine what the first episode would be like with all the scared straight dudes trying to convince the other 11 contestants that they are the gayest and that is why they should not be voted off. I mean, I get it, year, there are so many questions, right? Like, how do we know who is really 100% straight versus, whatever they've got going on. Would 100% straight dudes even agree to be on this show?! I certainly don't know, but I think it would be hilarious to find out.

I paused, briefly, to see if Mr Krelborn had anything to say. He was still swirling his wine, albeit a little slower than before. He was leaning forward in the big brown leather chair which was facing the desk at about a 30 degree angle, as was my chair. There was no table in between the chairs and no clear place to put my glass of wine. I still held it. I continued.

"You can see how these idea could be applied to other fields -- like, all of the sexual identities could be done, there is like a dozen shows right there. I mean, sure, once the show has it's 'gotcha' moment, than people will become aware that this could be a gimmick of whatever show they're taking part in. But, something about the idea, the straight dudes trying to 'out-gay' each other in hopes to win $10,000 or something paltry like that is a show that I know I and most people I know would tune in to see."

I leaned back in my chair a little bit, trying to convey that I was done speaking, or, at least wanted to hear what Mr Krelborn had to say. He put the glass to his nose and inhaled. He then put his hands on his knees, while still holding his glass and stood up and took two steps and set down his glass on his desk and then half leaned -- half sat on the desk and turned to me. He was again a silhouette and I could not see his face. The wine glass and the delicate red wine sent rainbows and filtered sun rays throughout the room. It was quite fantastic. While I could not see his face, he was looking right at me, there was no doubt.

"John, I must say, I never thought this day would come." He paused. I was quite curious as to what he had to say next. "It must have been 40 years, well -- hell, perhaps more like 50 years ago at this point. I had a man in my office. And please believe me when I say that the desk from this office occupies more square footage than the entirety of the office of those early days. My brothers and I had made a few films by that time but paying our bills on time was still a luxury in those days. The chances of us having any measure success from those embryonic days is still a thing of mystery and wonder."

He stopped to take another small draw from his wine glass. I took the opportunity to respond.

"Well, yeah, no bigger studio than Krelborn Bros, and --" Mr Krelborn continued on as if he did not hear me speaking.

"Yes, I would say 50 years nearly exactly. A man came to me in that office. My very first office. Back when my brothers were involved in the business, it was an office for all of us. We could barely fit all three of us in there at the same time even if we were standing and sucking in our guts. This man didn't have an appointment and we had no full time employees, much less a Gwendolyn, like I have now."

He paused to take another small sip. I did not speak this time.

"This man did not knock and he did not sit. He simply walked in and stood before me. He pulled back his cloak before saying anything. He pulled out a small cage of what looked like iron or a smoother black metal suspended by a chain from a handle. In it was some type of bird. I could see it moving about and making faint chirping noises. I sat there speechless."

And now I sat in his modern office, speechless.

"He eventually spoke. I don't know how long it took. I don't remember trying to speak, but I definitely did not speak and that is a strange thing for me. I speak and people listen and it has been this way for a long time. In a deep, gravelly and serious voice he said 'if you take this creature upon yourself you will have worldly riches and treasures beyond your dreams as long as this bird's female lineage lives upon the face of this Earth.'"

I'm sure my face betrayed the incredulousness I was feeling internally. Mr Krelborn went on.

"After he said this to me I still did not speak. Looking back I feel I may have been in a trance. This stranger slowly reached out with his left hand from which the birdcage was suspended. My desk, as mentioned before, truly was not much bigger than a poor preacher's pulpit and I didn't have to get up from my wooden, armless chair, to reach out and take the chain from this man. I took the bird and set the birdcage down on top my small desktop. The man sighed, as if he was satisfied and glad to be free of the bird. He then said, 'the day the maternal line of this bird perishes shall be the day that you and all your offspring shall too perish and as long as this bird and the maternal line live, you shall have the riches and treasures of this world at your calling.' He said a few other words, the nature of which you will soon come to know, and then the man turned and walked away. Some time later -- either seconds or hours, I will never know, I lifted my head from my desk and there sat the bird cage with the caged bird twittering about. I never saw him again."

Mr Krelborn was silent for a few moments after this. He slowly got up from his half lean-half seat on the front of his desk and walked to his chair on the other side of the desk. He sat down and I could see the outline of his arm as it reached under the desk. He was still in shadow from the sunlight that continued to stream in through the immense windows behind Mr Krelborn.

Not long after that I heard some grinding of gears and what sounded like metal on metal screeching. It was coming from the ceiling. I looked up. The roof was opening! In the distance I heard a screech of what sounded like an eagle, or large bird.

In an instant I was blown back into my chair and the wine glass went flying behind me. The sun was blocked out and it sounded and felt as if I were in a clothes dryer. My eyes adjusted and in front of me was a bird easily the size of the desk upon which it perched. A black bird big enough to block out all of the light from the windows behind her. I could finally see the label on the wine bottle. Wow! I was drinking a 2005 Leroy Domaine d'Auvenay Les Bonnes-Mares Grand Cru. What a treat.

She flapped her wings and I lost my breath from the rush of air and the pressure against my chest. She took to the air and in her talons, in which, I thought to myself, could easily grasp the trunk of a girthy Douglas Fir tree, I found myself engulfed. She did not squeeze but I was unable to move. I saw the floor, the two chairs and my now nearly empty wine glass behind the chairs grow smaller and then it was the roof of the high rise I had just been in growing smaller and smaller. I thought I could see a Pan-Am airplane in the distance. I looked up towards the bird and saw the open beak bearing down upon me.