22 Shaliks Are For…
The beeps of the monitors were mute for him. Everything was fading away. Food no longer had any taste; he simply chewed and swallowed to appease the nurses who watched him with eagle eyes. When they held his wrist they would apologize if they had to use force, not realizing that his sense of touch had diminished to the point where he no longer felt their fingers. Only his eyes remained sharp and focused. They would take in everything they could, desperately burning the visions into memory. He kept thinking: if this had to be the last thing he was going to see, he would remember it with as much detail as possible.
His bed faced a window through which he could see a giant tree. It shaded his room from the direct sunlight. The leaves of the tree, small and pointed, glistened with the morning rain. As he watched the swaying leaves, he saw a tiny brown bird with orange-yellow markings. He racked his brains trying to remember the name of the bird. Ah, Shalik.
The nurses heard him mutter something, but they could not decipher it. They asked him if he needed anything. He shook his head, his eyes still locked on the small bird.
"One for sorrow," he said as he watched the bird walk on the branch, pecking at the leaves, looking for something to eat. Soon it was joined by another shalik.
"Two for joy," he added.
Soon the two birds were joined by two more and he groped his memory for the childhood rhyme for four. It took a moment.
"Four for boy."
He smiled to himself, satisfied with himself for remembering the rhyme.
The four birds were joined by four more. He did not know the rhyme beyond four, but as the birds hopped and chirped on the branch, he tried to continue the rhyme, making it up the best he could.
"Five for a girl. Six for a pearl. Seven for…for…"
Words failed him. His brain felt foggy, but he kept muttering to himself. The nurses ignored him, realizing that his time was near.
The branch became more and more populated with shalik birds. Five more joined in, bringing the total to thirteen. The branch was beginning to bend under their collective weight. Yet, it did not break as more birds perched.
Finally, there were twenty-two shaliks. They were not hopping around, not poking at the branch for grubs to eat. Instead, they were unusually calm and still. They were all staring at him through the window.
He could feel his heart slowing down. The world began to turn grey. Noises faded away. All he could see were the birds staring at him.
"Twenty-two…Twenty-two for my soul."
Then he was gone.
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