The True Story of Stellina (2 page)

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Authors: Matteo Pericoli

BOOK: The True Story of Stellina
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and not knowing

how to get around,

all by herself,

in such a b i i i i i g place

as M A N H A T T A N.

It was evening when Holly, my wife,

decided to take Stellina home with her.

They sat together for a while,

looking at each other,

and both must have wondered:

“And now? What’s going to happen now?”

They spent hours and hours together.

From home,

they used to go out

to many places.

They always traveled by subway.

Holly, my wife, carried Stellina in a little box

where she patiently sat

without saying a word.

Perhaps only

“CHEEP” every once in a while.

But nothing else.

Or maybe she was wondering:

“And now? What’s going to happen now?”

Stellina would go with holly, my wife,

to her office,

“CHEEP,”

and stand there,

on her desk,

looking at her,

“CHEEP,” she would tell her

every once in a while

After the office they would leave,

this time to go to the dance studio.

Because Holly, my wife, is a dancer.

So while Holly was dancing--

“Ole!” (she dances Spanish dances)--

Stellina woul watch,

“CHEEP,”

and watch,

“CHEEP, CHEEP,”

and grow while she looked at Holly.

Stellina was growing because she was eating.

“That’s normal!” you would say.

“I am growing because I am eating, too!”

And you are right to say so.

But Stellina was supposed to be fed by her mama

(a bird),

and Holly, my wife, was not her mama

(or a bird).

Little wild birds usually want

only their mothers to feed them,

and they are very picky about it.

They often say, “No one can feed me,

except my mama!”

But Holly, my wife, was patient,

very patient and loving.

She would peel and squeeze fresh grapes

into Stellina’s beak,

crumble hard-boiled eggs,

and use her finger, her pinky finger,

to feed Stellina,

who was very hungry,

“CHEEP,”

and who stood there, all the time,

with her beak open wide—

like this: “AAAAAAAHHHH.”

“Why not?”

Stellina must have thought.

“Holly can be my mother for a while.”

Stellina started to love Holly, my wife,

probably after their first day together.

And each day more and more.

And Holly, too,

couldn’t stop loving Stellina.

Then, one day,

Stellina learned how to eat by herself,

and Holly was so happy.

She didn’t have to feed her

with her pinky finger any longer.

And she didn’t have

to watch her all the time.

Or take her wherever she went.

Stellina was growing up.

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