Dodos

The problem was, it wasn't a human baby. That wasn't the first problem. I guess I'm getting ahead of myself.

My name's Dustin, and I like birds. Always did. I guess you could say I collect them. Living and dead. I had rock, stamp, and coin collections as a boy, but they weren't special enough.

I guess I got it from my dad. He ran a taxidermy shop in the front rooms of our house, and he taught me how to do it. Both the preservation and the accounting. He liked deer and cattle. Anything with horns. I didn't get into it until he gave me a mallard duck to finish. After that I was hooked. It wasn't even a flashy drake, but a plain, brown female. You can't peel birds all the way. You have to get the brain, eyes, and tongue out and make sure it's all clean inside. I liked the challenge. When my dad died, I got the house and everything in it. I sell a few heads and antlers every month.

My mom was a collector, too. She liked ornaments. We had a dozen Christmas trees every year growing up, and sometimes another five or ten regular trees outside got the extras. I sell those, too. The problem was, I didn't sell them faster than I got new birds.

When I sold a deer head or box of ornaments, I thought about how nice it was my parents collected things. Between them both, I could live off selling their stuff for years. I thought it might be nice to have kids and leave them my birds. The problem was, I didn't meet a lot of girls. Not many came into my shop, and I only left to get groceries and chemicals.

When Spencer Whittaker came into my shop, he had all the solutions. He wasn't a hunter or a collector, so I thought he must be a tourist. He looked at a few pieces, but not the way a collector looks at them. "Can I help you?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, "show me the prizes of your collection. Tell me about your favorites."

I thought I had him pegged. He must be one of those rich men who likes unique pieces. "Well, there's the dodo," I said. "It's not on display." I led him into the house, something I didn't usually do, and showed him the dodo. It cost me, but there were less than a dozen in the world. It filled me with joy every time I saw it.

"Mind if I smoke?" Without waiting for an answer, he took a pipe out of his pocket and began puffing on it. "Coincidentally," Spencer said, "dodos are something I'd like to ask you about. I heard you raise rare birds, too."

"Yes," I said, hoping he wasn't some busybody or from the government. I couldn't see one of them smoking a pipe, though. "They're out back." I led him through the house to the backyard. I had twenty-one acres and a small pond. "These are my Florida Scrub-jays. Three breeding pairs. I found a nest that seemed abandoned. I didn't realize what they were until they hatched. I've released maybe a hundred of them since. When one dies here, I preserve them. I hope they won't be all that's left, like my dodo."

"Very admirable," Spencer said. "I heard you have yellow crested cockatoos and Gunnison Sage-grouse."

"Who did you hear that from? The cockatoos are over in—"

"I don't need to see them, Dustin," he said. "How would you like to try to breed dodos?"

"I'd love that, Mr. Whittaker, but how can that be done? I didn't think there was any way to breed them back. Isn't their only close relative also extinct?"

"The Rodriguez solitaire, yes. But there are several taxidermied dodos, and their DNA has been sequenced. We've been using Nicobar pigeon cells to create dodo zygotes. We're at the stage where we can implant them in eggs, also from the Nicobar pigeon. Our chances of a success are increasing weekly, and we'll need people to raise them. People who understand birds. Would you be interested? I was thinking of purchasing the adjacent property to build a dodo habitat."

I signed a bunch of legal stuff. Spencer bought one of the adjacent properties and rented it to me for one dollar a year "and other considerations." I built up a dodo habitat and Spencer paid for everything. The first batch of eggs didn't hatch, but Spencer wasn't upset or surprised. He brought another incubator full of eggs and made me another offer.

"Have you ever thought about having children?" Spencer asked as I plugged in the incubator full of modified Nicobar pigeon eggs.

"I have, but...it's not easy to meet girls."

Spencer took his pipe out of his pocket and blew a few smoke rings. "There's someone I'd like you to meet. If you don't mind me playing matchmaker. And you're not looking well. When was the last time you had a checkup?"

"Uh, a few years ago. Why?"

"Maybe it's just overwork," Spencer said, "but if you sign a few things, I can get you free health insurance. You'll have to agree to get four checkups a year. They're very big on preventative medicine."

Before he left, he talked me into it. I signed more legal stuff and made an appointment to get prodded. There wasn't anything wrong with me.

By the time the next batch of eggs didn't hatch, I'd been talking to Cassidy on-line for weeks. I didn't know what to say to most girls, but Cassidy was like me, except she liked dolls instead of birds. Her parents were collectors, too. Her dad was still alive, but her mom died, and left her all sorts of things. Arrowheads, maps, vinyl records, jigsaw puzzles, you name it. I thought about her living with me, but where would we keep all our stuff?

The next time Spencer came, he wasn't alone. Cassidy came in behind him. She was short and plain and brown, not flashy. I liked that. Spencer was saying something, but I didn't hear him. I just stared. "Uh, hi," she said. I waved and tried to say hi.

"—don't mind," Spencer was saying, "but it's easier for her to leave her dolls a few days than for you to leave your birds."

"I don't mind."

"Let's get these eggs moved over to your incubator, and then you two can get acquainted over dinner."

I liked Cassidy even more in person. Spencer came by twice a month for a few months, and he always brought Cassidy with him. Then one day over dinner he asked us, "Have you considered moving in together? It would be more convenient than traveling with me twice a month."

We looked at each other. "We've talked about it," I said.

"But there just isn't room," Cassidy finished.

"Couldn't you put some of your parents' stuff in storage?" he asked.

"Like, rent a shed?" I asked.

Cassidy shook her head. "I wouldn't want it to be out of sight."

I understood the feeling. "The deer and ornaments aren't my thing, but I feel responsible for them. I sell them, but I've refused to sell them to some people. They need to go to someone who will take good care of them, not a self-storage place."

Spencer stared off into space, puffing his pipe and pretending to think. I knew him well enough now that I knew he probably knew what he was going to say before he even entered the door. He just liked going through the motions. "I could build some storage sheds here. Climate controlled. You have enough land now for one."

"That would fix it," I said, "but why are you doing all this for us?"

"As I said when I met you both, I'm interested in collectors. You might say I'm a collector collector." He smiled and blew a smoke ring. "And I have an interest in bringing back extinct species. You've been of enormous help with the dodos. It's the least I can do."

***

The construction went quickly, and before long Cassidy was moving her things in. It was hard for me to carve out a few hours in the evening away from my birds. I could tell Cassidy had the same struggle. It was worth it, though. I learned a lot about dolls.

The next time we had to get check-ups, we had a surprise. Cassidy was pregnant. Well, it was a surprise to me, anyway. I proposed, of course, and she accepted. Neither of us were real religious or anything, but it just didn't seem right to have a kid without being married. And neither of us were going anywhere. It meant a lot of work, though, and a lot of time away from my birds. We did all the paperwork and got married at the courthouse. I met her dad, and he gave her away, even if there wasn't any audience.

We were on the fourth batch of dodos, and this time two of them hatched. Neither of them lived long. I put them in the freezer. Spencer came and collected the remains.

Cassidy had checkups monthly now. Everything seemed to be going well until she had her first ultrasound. I was in the room. Not because I wanted to be, but because I felt obligated. When the first images came up, the technician gasped. I could tell something was wrong, and so could Cassidy. "What is it?" she asked.

"There's nothing to worry about. Mr. Whittaker will want to speak with you," she said. She wouldn't tell us anything, and she turned the machine off when I tried to go around and look. She left us there and said the doctor would be with us soon.

Cassidy was in tears by the time the doctor came in. He didn't say anything, but handed Cassidy a cell phone. "Hello? Yes, Spencer. Yes. Okay, but—Can't you tell me over the phone? If it's good news, why can't you tell me? Okay. We'll be there."

Cassidy wouldn't tell me much on the way home, only that Spencer had to talk to us in person and would be there tomorrow.

I didn't sleep well, and every time I got up, Cassidy was crying softly. We were in a bad state the next morning. After I cared for the birds, the living ones that is, there was nothing to do until Spencer got here.

"What do you think of Spencer?" Cassidy asked as his car was pulling up.

"I'm grateful to him. He introduced us. He's done a lot for us."

"But why? Do you think he's been honest about why he's helping us?"

I took awhile to answer. "No. I just never had any reason to be upset about it."

"Until now," she said, hugging herself.

"Maybe. Let's see what he has to say."

Spencer came up the driveway with a spare suit in a dry cleaning bag, a lift in his step, and big smile. He sure was happy. He gave us both a big hug and pretended not to notice our worries. "Congratulations! I hoped you'd end up having children. This is wonderful news. I have many things to tell you, but it's a lovely day. Let's talk in the backyard."

He marched past us through the house, picking up a couple of plastic chairs off the deck, and put them in a wide, clear area in the back. I picked up a chair myself as we followed him. "Sit, please," he said, hanging his spare suit on the back of a chair.

"As you know. I'm interested in breeding back extinct creatures. I'm particularly interested in dragons."

"Komodos aren't extinct," I said.

Spencer smiled at me like a parent when their kid says something stupid. "Long ago there were dragons, real dragons. They could transform themselves into men and in that form many mated with humans. Some had children who appeared human, but had certain quirks, signs of dragon blood. My own parents were avid collectors, and after too many years of being alone, I began to wonder if that was the key."

"The key to what?" Cassidy asked.

"The key to breeding back dragons. Collectors like yourself, the most obsessive ones. You don't have enough dragon blood for scales or wings, but you have enough to keep a hoard. By ensuring collectors meet each other, I increase my chances."

Cassidy said nothing, but I saw she was crying.

"Now, now, it's not a bad thing. The ultrasound showed, well, it showed you have an egg inside you. A well-formed egg and a perfect little dragon inside. A girl, by the way." Spencer chuckled. "We'd be having a different conversation if it was a boy."

Cassidy held her arms crossed over her stomach. "An egg? I'm not giving birth to an egg. You're lying."

Spencer took out his pipe and began blowing smoke rings. "I'd prefer that you understand the importance of what's happened, but as a reminder, the contracts you signed have provisions for this situation. You can keep the girl, the girl dragon, and raise it, or you can give it up. But you must go through with the birth. On the bright side, the birth will be sooner and easier. Dragon eggs are smaller than a human head."

"Wait a second," I said, "are you saying you're a dragon. A real, fire-breathing, twenty-foot tall dragon?"

"Yes," he said, puffing on his pipe. I thought about that then and wondered if I'd ever seen him light it. "There's a reason I wanted to meet you out here."

His suit tore as he stretched and stretched and instead of Spencer standing in our yard, telling us crazy stuff, there was a dragon.

"I don't want a dragon," Cassidy wailed, "I want a baby!"

He began to shrink and it was Spencer again. A naked man standing in your yard isn't any more comforting.

"And you will," he said, "you will. If you keep her" He reached for the spare suit. "She will learn to transform into a little girl between three and five. If you get pregnant again, the odds are you will have a perfectly healthy human child. Now there will be a few differences in raising a dragon, but—"

Cassidy stood and threw her hands up. She put them over her ears and stormed back to the house. I wasn't sure if I ought to follow her.

"I expected that," Spencer said. "You're not my first breeding pair. At least you seem sympathetic."

"Are the stories about dragon true?"

"I don't know," Spencer said. "My parents were shocked at giving birth to an egg. I'm lucky they kept me instead of throwing me out. It was before everyone gave birth in hospitals. I'd trust a mother's reaction to birthing an egg over a modern doctor's."

"I mean, dragons are evil, right? They eat maidens and raid villages."

"I've never eaten anyone. A whole cow or pig suffices. I've burned a few buildings. The first ones were accidental. You won't have to worry about. Fire breathing doesn't happen until twenty to twenty-five. I can ensure your daughter is in a safer place to, ah, practice than I was."

"What about the hoarding?" I asked. "If dragons come back, wouldn't they end up with all the money? Wouldn't people all end up poor?"

"Before me, a few families—with no dragon blood, I assure you—controlled almost all the world's wealth. Is the world worse now that the wealth is mine and not theirs? They were only hoarding it, after all, and they seemed to hate humans. I want humans to thrive. I've established benevolent long-term investments."

I wasn't sure what some of that meant. "I can tell you're troubled," Spencer said, "and that is understandable. Keep an eye on your wife. I fear she might do something drastic. Feel free to call your doctor any time, day or night." With that Spencer left. I sat out in the yard a while, thinking things over. Was bringing back dragons any different from bringing back dodos? It was more personal, but I'd never thought about what the Nicobar pigeons felt about it.

***

The problem was, I got frustrated and mad. I said some things I shouldn't have. When I saw Cassidy at dinner, her eyes were puffy, and she barely picked at her food. I was warming up to the idea of having a dragon. How many people could say that? But she was dead set against the idea.

"He tricked us," she said. "No one reads all that gobbledygook. Now I have to bear an egg? I won't do it. He can't make me do it. And you're taking his side!"

"I've been thinking. Maybe it's not such a bad idea. We can keep it and raise it. Wouldn't that be fascinating? Having a baby dragon?"

"To you our baby is just another stupid bird! This isn't even a bird! It's a giant lizard! A monster!"

"But what if...can't you think of it as a special kind of doll?"

"It! It! It! If you really believed we'd have a baby, you'd say 'she!'"

Cassidy got up and stomped upstairs. She had a point. I shouldn't think of our child as a hobby, another item in my collection. This was too much to wrap my head around. I sat at the table too long, trying to think things over.

***

Spencer arrived at the hospital maybe an hour after the ambulance brought us there. When I went upstairs, Cassidy was asleep, but I had a bad feeling about it and tried to wake her up. Then I tried harder. Then I turned on the light and saw all the empty bottles. When I called the doctor, an ambulance was at our door like a minute later. I wondered if Spencer had them waiting at a neighbor's house, just for us.

Spencer didn't say anything at first, just came up and hugged me. I was kind of stunned. "I thought you'd be mad," I said.

"You're not my first breeding pair," he said with a sad smile. "I didn't understand the first couple of times. A woman who's pregnant, well the baby at the end is what makes it all worthwhile. And if you're going to end up with something else..." He waved vaguely towards Cassidy's room. "I'll feed your birds tomorrow," he said. "I don't think you'd want a stranger to do it."

I nodded. "No, I'd prefer you did it. I can tell you everything that needs to be done. Thank you."

He got out his pipe just as a nurse was passing by. "Put that away! There's no smoking in here."

Spencer put the pipe back in his pocket. When the nurse was out of sight, he sat down, leaned back, and blew three perfect smoke rings.

***

I spent the next three days holding Cassidy's hand, pacing around the waiting room, sleeping chairs, chewing my nails, worrying about my birds, worrying about my wife, worrying about whether the baby, the egg, whatever, would make it. And worrying about how we'd manage if the dragon did make it. Cassidy was awake on and off. We talked about anything except the baby. Spencer came in and talked to her a few times. I wasn't there. I don't know what he said, but she seemed less upset after the last visit.

The doctor said Cassidy was well, and the baby was well, but I needed to keep a close eye on her. We drove home, quiet most of the way. "I guess I'll go through with it," she said. "We can give it up. Maybe we can have a real baby afterward."

I nodded. "I'll do whatever you want, Cassidy. Even if... We both survived without Spencer's money. We can figure out something."

When we got home, I hugged Cassidy and went to check on the birds. Before I got to the backyard, I went by the incubator and heard a weak chirp. The dodos had hatched. Well, three of them. I'd completely forgotten about the dodos. Two were dead, but one still lived. I mixed up some feed, mostly water, and got a syringe. I was holding the chick, feeding it, when Cassidy found me.

"Oh," she said. "They hatched."

I nodded, trying to concentrate on feeding the dodo. It seemed to be doing okay, just hungry and dehydrated. I should have been here when it hatched. Or reminded Spencer to check on them.

"It's kind of hideous, isn't it?" Cassidy said.

"She," I said. I'd already checked. "Adult dodos can be kind of cute. Odd, but cute. They don't have cute chicks like chickens, though."

"What do you think dragons are like? I mean, as babies? Are they hideous?"

I shook my head. "I have no idea." I changed the temperature on the incubator and put the dodo back in it for now. I started collecting the unhatched eggs and the dead. "Remember what Spencer said? He said our daughter could turn into a girl, a human girl. Any kid of ours would be cute."

Cassidy put her hand on her belly. She still wasn't showing yet. "Maybe we'll keep her," she said.