“When I tap my hat with this magic wand and say the secret words you will instantly turn into a blackbird!” declared my brother, Derek. “Are you ready, Lucy?”
“Sure, David Blaine” I replied with about as much enthusiasm as a rock.
“Ok, here goes. Ob-La-Da!” TAP! And nothing happened. “Hey, what’s going on?” wailed Derek, truly stumped.
“Oh, here’s a wild guess: maybe you got the words wrong” I said sarcastically. “Take a look at this and profit from my knowledge of all things Beatles”, and we Googled the White Album. “See, you got it wrong.”
“Oh yeah! Ok, let’s try again. Ready?” Derek ceremoniously whirled his wand and said “Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da!” TAP!
And the next thing I knew I was soaring through the sky, flying across the universe. Here, there and everywhere I gazed in amazement at the clouds, the water, tree tops and strawberry fields. I spotted a row of houses below and gracefully swooped down, perching on a windowsill. Hopping inside I landed right on top of a bathtub.
“Well, hello! What have we here! A little housebreaker?” exclaimed a man behind me.
“No, silly! I’m a blackbird. I came in through the bathroom window” I said and turned around to see — George Harrison!!
“Welcome, blackbird!” George said, not at all surprised to find a talking bird in his house. “You remind me of a little ditty John and Paul wrote. Would you like to come with me to visit the Lads.”
“You mean John, Paul and Ringo?” I warbled with excitement.
“Well, actually just Paul and John. Ringo had a bit of an accident and went to see Doctor Robert. But do try to act naturally.”
“Oh no! What happened to Ringo?” I asked in misery.
George whispered “Do you want to know a secret? Ringo was following the fool on the hill and he couldn’t slow down. He fell head first, he did, into an octopus’s garden and nearly drowned!”
“Wasn’t there anyone to help.” I asked tearfully.
“Just the two of us!” exclaimed two voices in unison. We turned to see Paul and John grinning broadly.
“You’ll be happy to know we got Ringo to the doctor straight away and he’ll be right as rain very soon. He’s getting better all the time” added Paul.
“So tell us, little blackbird. Do you have a name?” asked John.
“Something tells me, Johnny, it’s ‘Mother Superior”. Am I right, little bird?” inquired Paul.
“No, nothing quite as impressive as that. I’m just plain Lucy”.
“Just plain Lucy!? Rubbish! Much more genteel than Sexy Sadie but every bit as pretty as Dear Prudence!” exclaimed John.
George reached into his pocket and took out a teeny pair of pink glasses. He delicately balanced them on my little beak. “Perfect! Kaleidoscope Eyes! Let’s go show Ringo!”
And off we went singing “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds”.
Suddenly I was in my bed and I wasn’t a blackbird at all. And the Lads weren’t here either. It was all a wonderful dream.
But when I looked over at my nightstand I gasped; there sat a teeny pair of pink glasses. Imagine that!
NAR © 2019