Birdhouse

He sat on the sawhorse, watching his grandfather work. It was a lazy day in July. The morning haze was gone, and the day was turning hot. He was 5 going on 6. “Was it this hot when you was a little boy, Grandpa?” Samuel asks, twisting on the sawhorse. His mommy called him Samuel, but his daddy called him Sam. Zach stopped working on the birdhouse and straightened his back. He smiled at his grandson. “Yes. I remember one summer my mother put the number 3 washtub on the back porch full of water about 4 o’clock in the afternoon. About 7 o’clock my brother and I took our baths in that tub.”

“Right out in the open?” The little boy stared at his grandfather with big eyes. “Wasn’t you embarrassed? Was the water warm?”

“Yes the water was warm. Almost hot. And no, we were too young to be embarrassed. And I’ll tell you another thing. The preacher came for a visit while we were taking a bath.”

“What did he do?” The little boy stopped rocking and stared at his grandfather.

“Why he sat down in the rocker on my momma’s back porch as she bathed us. She dressed us in our nightclothes and sent us off to bed.”

“How old was you grandpa?” The little boy stopped rocking and watched as his grandfather fitted the roof on the birdhouse.

“Oh, we couldn’t have been more than 4 or 5. “Zach stood up. “Come on, you can help me decide where to hang this birdhouse. He lifted the little boy off the sawhorse and set his feet on the floor of the garage. He picked up the competed birdhouse. Together they set off into the little boy’s parents’ lawn.

Running ahead of the elderly man, the little boy shouted. “Right here, Grandpa. Right here. “Samuel said, pointing to the tree outside his bedroom window.”

Zach smiled. “I think that would be the perfect spot.” He twisted the wire around a small branch. The birdhouse swung in the middle of the window of the little boy’s bedroom. Together, man and boy set off to find a treat. Ice cream for the child. A cup of coffee for the elderly man. Afterward, Zach headed for his home a mile away. Samuel stood on the front lawn and waved until the old pickup disappeared in a cloud of dust.

The next morning, Samuel woke to the singing of birds at his open window. He was disappointed that no one occupied the birdhouse. One morning a week later he saw a mother bird sitting on a branch of the tree with a twig in her bill. All that day and the next day she built her nest in the birdhouse. The next morning, four speckled eggs appeared in the nest. Some days later, Samuel was surprised when four little bald heads appeared in the birdhouse. He was so excited his mommy allowed him to call his grandfather on her cell phone. After lunch, Zach came down to see the little birds.

 Samuel was jumping up and down as his grandfather drove into the driveway. The old man smiled at the little boy. Samuel took his grandfather’s hand and led him around the side of the house. Zack opened the half of the roof held on with a hinge. He lifted the child so that he could see into the birdhouse. Nestled among the twigs and grass were four baby birds. His mother joined them. The little boy smiled. “They’re naked. Just like you when the preacher came for a visit.” His mother and grandfather laughed.