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waved it near the crow’s eye. As she moved her finger, the little crow became very interested. Suddenly he tilted his head back and opened his beak wide. Keisha quickly stuck the plug of food deep in his throat.

    “Goodness,” Mrs. Sampson said. “You’ll choke the poor thing.”
    “That’s how the mama does it,” Daddy said. “When you get that far down, it stimulates the little guy to swallow.”
    “What if he bites you, Keisha?” Aaliyah asked.
    “It doesn’t hurt that much,” Daddy told Aaliyah. “Plus, he wants this food, just like baby Paulo.”
    “And the crow doesn’t have teeth,” Keisha said, remembering how much it hurt to get her fingers near Paulo’s mouth when he was teething.
    Wen started to ask a question, but she was interrupted by the crow’s squawking.
    “What does
that
mean?” Aaliyah asked. “He’s not happy.”
    Daddy stroked the feathers at the little crow’s throat. “It sounds bad, but it means he feels good, Aaliyah. Loosely translated, he’s saying, ‘Yum. Keep it coming.’”
    Keisha got into a rhythm with the little crow that sounded like “squawk, shlump, glump.” When he started to slow down, Daddy added a few drops of water with the syringe in between plugs of food.
    After a time, the crow closed his mouth and turned his head away. Daddy set him in his nest box, which he then set inside a larger box they’d brought along. Quick as a wink, he took a dish towel that had been sitting over the back of the chair and tossed it over the box.
    “We don’t want to encourage that,” he said as he smoothed the material over the sides.
    “What? Encourage what?” Aaliyah had just stepped in closer to get a better look.
    “Now that he’s fed and feels a little safer, he’ll be looking around. And it’s possible he could imprint on one of us.”
    “Ew.” Aaliyah crossed her arms. “You mean, like, on our clothes?”
    “No, Aaliyah. ‘Imprint’ means he could think that we’re, well, like his mama or his daddy or his … Moms.” Daddy set the crow’s box on a chair, which he then pushed to face the wall. He turned back to Mrs. Sampson.
    “Now I need to figure out where we’re going to put the little guy while he’s building up his strength. We just filled up our bird enclosure with ducklings.”
    “I’m confused.” Mrs. Sampson sat down at the table and looked around as if the thought had just occurred to her:
Where did you all come from?
“Don’t babies stay in the nest until they’re ready to fly?”
    “No,” Daddy and Grandma said together. They were used to this question.
    “When people see a crow this big that can’t fly, they think there must be something wrong with it,” Daddy said. “So here are the signs to look for. (1) Is it bleeding? (2) Is it dragging a wing? (3) Is it in immediate danger? You responded to number three. You rescued the baby crow from the cat.”
    “But if it can’t fly, won’t it be in danger until it can?”
    “Yes, but it can’t learn to fly until it goes through the fledgling phase. Now, let me explain just a few things about crow biology—”
    Grandma Alice smacked her hands on the table. “I’m parched,” she said. “Can I get myself a glass of water?”
    “Of course,” Mrs. Sampson said. “There’s a jelly jar in the cupboard over the sink. That’s what I use.”
    “Anybody else want water?”
    “Yes. Thank you, Mom.”
    Aaliyah stood at the window. “The court is far enough away from the mailbox.… We could still get a little practice in.…”
    Like Grandma, Aaliyah didn’t enjoy listening to Daddy’s educational speeches. In fact, the only person who did seem interested was Mrs. Sampson. Wen tugged on Keisha’s shorts and nodded toward the window.
    “Baby birds have many natural predators. Cats … hawks, of course, and raccoons, and snakes, who also go after the eggs.”
    Grandma came back into the room and put jelly jars of water in front of her son and Mrs. Sampson. She stood