I don’t understand birds. Just by watching them move, I can tell that they are too different from me for me ever to be able to relate to them. I can relate to a dog or a cat. I can relate to an ant. But a bird is something else altogether.

I got in an argument with Mindy-Sue at a seafood restaurant on a dock by the sea. She said that birds were like little people with beaks and wings. She said they eat and mate and sleep and sing. She could relate to that, she said, and would love to live like them. But, watching them move, I observed, they seem so unnatural. On the ground, she said, yes, but that’s not their element. In the air, she argued, they’re graceful and sweet.

"You don’t understand," I yelled, angrier than I ought to have been. "Anything that can move like that is not something that any person could ever relate to. It’s so jittery and deliberate. It’s completely inhuman. Even applying human descriptors like ‘sweet’ to a bird is absurd."

Mindy-Sue shrugged and humphed.

"All I’m saying," she said, "is that if I got transformed by a witch I would hope she would make me a bird."

"You’re only saying that because they can fly," I contended.

"No," she answered. "And don’t patronize me."

"You’d go crazy!" I shouted. "There’s no way a human brain can do what a bird does."

"But I’d have a bird brain."

"You already do!" I couldn’t resist. She scowled.

"Look. What I’m trying to say," I continued, "is that either you’d retain your human consciousness, in which case you’d (a) go crazy, and (b) be ostracized by the other birds, or you’d get a new, bird consciousness, in which case you would no longer be you."

"Pshaw!" she hissed.

We stared at each other for two minutes straight, glaring and out-glaring and out-out-glaring. Finally she spoke.

"And what kind of animal would you choose to be?" she asked, fishing for a basis to attack me.

"I don’t know," I answered honestly. "I think maybe a lioness."

"A girl!" she laughed. "Why not a lion?"

"I’m not into fighting over territorial disputes."

"But you’re into killing innocent zebras?"

"Not really," I confessed. "It’s more the lying in the sun and being king of the forest that appeal to me. Maybe a lion was a bad idea. Maybe a whale would be better," I mused, staring off into the ocean.

"You mean to tell me," she leapt at my words, "that you can relate to a whale, but not a bird? They live in water. They’re gigantic. They click and beep."

"At least they’re mammals," I answered. "The truth is I’m not sure that I can relate to whales, but neither am I sure I can’t, as with birds."

"But I can relate to birds," Mindy-Sue said. "And I can’t relate to whales. So there."

"Fine," I responded.

"Is that all you have to say?"

"I don’t think we’re getting anywhere, so let’s drop it," I said.

Then a strange-looking couple entered the restaurant. They were both tall and gaunt. The man wore a long robe, the woman, a flowing green cloak. She stamped her foot and snorted and shouted, "This is a hold up! Nobody move or make a sound or we’ll transform you into beasts! Now, hand over your wallets and empty the register."

The maitre d’ started to laugh. The strange man raised his hand and a lightning bolt flashed from it. Suddenly, the maitre d’ was gone and in his place was a small canary. It tweeted for a moment, then fell on its side, rolled over and over, and presently died.

"Told you so," I whispered to Mindy-Sue.

The man overheard me. He whirled to face me and lifted his hand. I saw a flash of light, then everything shrank. My arms felt big and heavy. My feet felt fused. I heard a faint scream and tried to turn and look. Then there was a crash. I found myself falling. I heard a splash. Then, at once, I felt lithe. I looked up and saw the dock where the restaurant was. Half of it was gone, smashed, splintered, and broken. Mindy-Sue was staring down at me, her hand over her mouth.

The man and the woman who had held up the place were lying unconscious on the rocks by the beach. Hundreds of people were pointing at me. I can’t be a whale, I thought, but I knew. I winked at Mindy-Sue so she’d know I was fine, and to say, "I told you so," just one more time.

Then I exhaled with a great spout of spray and headed off to the sea where I still live today.