All We Want Is Everything by Andrew F. Sullivan Read Free Book Online Page B

premeditated according to Jimmy. This was a homicide.
    “Look, I can go back to your place and take a look if you want, but I don’t know if a hose is going to do it. We might be better just trying an oxygen tank or something.”
    “And where are going to get one of those?” Jimmy says.
    We are in the woods behind Jimmy’s place. There are birds in the trees around us, but they keep scattering whenever we start up the mower. It was Jimmy’s idea to build this machine. Something like a flamethrower on wheels to clear out the sky. Something to burn up all these winged oil spots and put an end to the surgical masks and rain coats. I thought high school was going to be full of girls in skirts and spaghetti straps, but the birds kind of ruined all of that. Everyone is all bundled up. We don’t even trust the ceilings inside the school. You can hear the babies squealing for food up in the rafters and down in the empty drains. They invade every space and stuff holes full with wrapping paper and old plastic grocery bags.
    “Try and start it up again. I will go back to the house and try to find some more hose.”
    The trees around me are made of dead branches and slimy bark. Jimmy’s backyard is fenced off from the woods, but that doesn’t mean the birds don’t like to settle in his yard. They hop away from me as I try and skirt around the abandoned barbecue. This was where Jimmy’s dad trapped a bunch of them after the last of the news teams began to trickle out of town. Once the cameras realized the birds were here to stay, most of them lost interest. They could always check in with us again in a couple weeks and file a report about the air pollution. The birds would not dictate their schedule. They were free to leave. Jimmy says we should go too, but he’s not ready yet. There are still too many birds here in Hudson. There are too many beaks to feed.
    It was Jimmy’s Dad who was trying to cook steaks out in the backyard with an umbrella over his head when the birds swooped down to poke at his meat. Maybe he didn’t realize they were in there when he slammed the lid shut, or maybe he just didn’t give a shit. There was a scream at first, apparently. The sky went dark for a second. Jimmy described a cloud of wings and bright eyes descending from the roof to swallow up his father’s body in some feathered suit, their tiny beaks piercing his skin. Their shrill squawks drowned out his voice and the air smelled like burning hair, but it was all those feathers in the barbecue. Jimmy’s Mom pulled him away from the window. It lasted maybe fifteen minutes until his Dad stopped moving. His Mom was the one who remained composed when the cops arrived to take a statement. She was the one who led them to the corpse. The birds left most of the body behind, but the eyes were gone. The medics carted the body away under a blue tarp, but Jimmy said it still left a wet trail behind. The birds still don’t go near the barbecue and Jimmy says all they fear is fire.
    I push my way into the garage and look for a longer piece of hose. I don’t really think this plan is going to work. If anything, one of us is just going to end up on fire. There really isn’t anyone else to hang out with though. Jimmy and I are the only ones who will go outside. Most of the girls stay indoors and phone each other. Sometimes they just sleep or write messages in soap on their windows until the bird shit covers them again. We used to leave all the girls letters about our plan to burn out the sky, but they didn’t write back. No one really thinks we can pull it off. I don’t really blame them, but Jimmy seems to think girls aren’t worth our time anyway.
    The garage is full of all his Dad’s stuff. Clothes and diplomas and fishing equipment are stacked up against the walls. Jimmy’s Mom dumped it all out here after they buried his father just outside town. She lets me stay over most nights when I get tired of listening to my parents strangling as many