“They’re going to just ship him away someplace. Lock him up in the museum’s animal center or in the zoo,” Landon said, cradling the owl. “I just can’t think of him not being able to keep trying to fly.” Landon sniffled and stood up with the owl. “I need to take him to an animal hospital, Leila. He’s been getting worse since the other day, and now he just won’t do anything. I found him on the bottom of his habitat. If I hadn’t gotten there first—”
“Is this why you didn’t want to talk?” Leila asked, standing with him. “The Trust shuttering? Planning to take Milford away? We need to be united on this, Landon. Everyone thinks it’s just an early change of seasons, but we know better. You could have told me. I want to be there for you. I would have helped you plan something.”
Landon looked at her and smiled through the tears, the flash of joy washing away just as quickly as it appeared. He grew serious.
“Look, I have something to—”
“Leila!” Sarika shouted from the path, running towards the two of them. “Landon, thank God we found you. Did you tell him? Oh.” Sarika stopped in her tracks as she got closer to the two of them and saw Milford. “Oh no. What happened?”
“We have to go,” Landon said, walking out of the field. Leila and Sarika followed close behind him.
“There’s an animal hospital up in University City that takes care of exotics,” he continued. “I’ve had friends at the Academy of Natural Sciences bring by chinchillas and other out-of-the-box critters.” His head dipped down as he looked at Milford. “I’m thinking maybe they’ll know how to fix him. People keep owls sometimes.”
“Won’t they ask for a permit or something?” Sarika asked as they rushed along.
“It’s just a chance I’ll have to take, I guess,” Landon said. “If worse comes to worst, I’ll say we found him. I’ve got my truck. I drove over today when I heard the news, basically speeding all the way here. We can drive up to University City.”
They hurried silently down the trail back towards the shuttered Trust until they reached the exit, near the road that led away from the foundation and Fairmount Park along Kelly Drive. Looking at the stretch of road that moved along the Schuylkill River, Leila’s mind drifted towards the day when she saw Landon trying to fly Milford and promptly crashed her bike.
Of Shawn, and that terrible first date and how he was trying to make up for things.
Of the people currently jogging up the trails that moved along the river, the kids playing in the little break areas along the walkway, the fishermen swinging lines into the raging waters just a few feet away.
None of them. Not one of them, except for Sarika next to her and Landon standing up ahead, his owl cradled in his arms, a faux leather wing attached to what remained of his natural one, had any idea what was happening in the woods right in front of them. To the world.
“Leila!” Landon shouted.
She broke out of her trance, and spotted Landon looking at her from inside his beat-up truck along the edge of the trail on the opposite side of the street. She hurried over with Sarika trailing behind.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t message you back, but I just . . .” Landon started, fading off. “It’s complicated. I’ll tell you later. Hop in, I need one of you to hold Milford while I drive.”
“Oh, dibs on that,” Sarika said, hopping into the back seat. Leila got into the passenger side as Landon gingerly passed Milford over into Sarika’s arms. The owl lay flat in her lap, breathing slowly with his eyes closed and beak open. “Oh Milly,” Sarika said, running a hand over the owl’s feathers. “You poor, sweet thing.”
Landon gave Leila a look, and she smiled at him.
Milly. Milford would hate that.
He turned the key in the ignition, and wiped the tears away from his face.
“Let’s go.”
SARIKA: Leila this looks really bad.
LEILA: Shh, don’t say that.
LEILA: Think positive. For Milford.
SARIKA: He isn’t really moving much.
SARIKA: I’m scared.
SARIKA: Won’t Landon get in a ton of trouble for having a wounded bird of prey? As a pet? Isn’t that super illegal?
SARIKA: Will we get in trouble being with him?
LEILA: Something tells me that won’t stop him.
LEILA: Just make sure he keeps breathing.
SARIKA: If he lives, I’ll never eat owl again.
LEILA: What?
SARIKA: It was a joke.
LEILA: Oh thank God.
SARIKA: Yeah I’m not gonna stop eating owl.
LEILA: . . .
SERVICE: **** 1:37PM ? 76%
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XXI
Landon paced the length of the waiting room at the University of Pennsylvania’s Small Animal Hospital so many times that Leila lost count. Sarika fussed with her phone, gradually losing interest in the tension-filled waiting, while Leila waited for the moments when Landon looked up and locked eyes with her. Each time, his expression softened.
Seeing him in the field like that, Milford in his arms, seemed to have broken something between them down.
The door to the emergency room swung open, and a young veterinarian, tall with pale skin and light brown hair, walked through. Her features were cut with sharp lines, like she could be a model when she wasn’t busy helping people’s pets. She carried a clipboard and looked around the waiting room.
“Milford?” she asked. “Are Milford’s, uh, owners here?”
Leila’s heart sped up at the veterinarian’s pause before saying “owners,” and Landon looked over at her with a fraught expression.
“That’s us, er, me,” he muttered, walking over. Leila hopped up and went with him, with a glance over at Sarika, who was locked onto her phone. She stared down at it almost angrily. Someone was probably causing trouble on the board again.
“Dr. Saft,” the vet introduced herself, shaking Landon’s hand and then Leila’s. “So, the good news is that Milford is stable. We’ve got him on an I.V. drip, just giving him fluids, as he’s extremely dehydrated from what we believe is poison.”
“Poison?” Landon gasped, his eyes wide.
“Yes, we managed to get him to have a bowel movement and cough up a rather uncomfortable pellet.” She continued, her face turned up with concern. “There was some blood, but not his. It was a nearly complete mouse, which we believe to be the source of the poison. Its fur was practically coated in it.”
“That’s bizarre,” Landon said.
“Well, it gets a little weirder. The mouse is a Southeastern Pennsylvania common field mouse, an incredibly endangered species,” she continued, looking at the clipboard. “One of our technicians is a volunteer at the Academy of Natural Sciences’ mammal’s archive, and recognized it right away.”
Leila’s eyes widened.
“Milford will be okay. I should stress that,” Dr. Saft continued. “You got him to us in time. Most owls who eat mice that have been poisoned, well, they end up with stomach hemorrhages that last a long time. Days, sometimes. But I still have some concerns. Can you explain, um,” she pulled Milford’s prosthetic wing out from behind her clipboard, “this?”