Magpies And Frisbees

• Naomi Cullinan, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2012

It was a vivid summer day, and scorching hot. I looked longingly down at the beach, just 200m away. I couldn’t go until I had finished my chores and mum has an eagle eye for dirt. “Oi Lil, finish this and make the beds while I pop down to the shops kay?” “Yeah,” I sighed. More cleaning – yay! After about thirty seconds, I gave in to my inner fiend and headed for the sand. I hadn’t even made it to the grass before it struck.

Those evil, little demons. Black, empty, voids for eyes, glinting with hate, wickedly sharp beaks and black/white clothes. Magpies. They were roosting in the big pine trees near the shore. It was early spring and the little chicks had just hatched. They must’ve been on high alert for a small human girl walking 30m away to be dangerous.

The first swoop surprised me, I wasn’t expecting it. The second one I saw the magpie, and my pupils dilated as it flew at me. I ducked, but she was so close I felt her talons graze my hair and rip off my hat. Regaining half of my brain, I turned and sprinted along the grass, away from the magpie.

I was running, running, tripping and getting up again, turning mid step to see how close it was and covering my face to stop it from getting my eyes. The little bird’s thin face bored into my brain and the harsh caw rang in my ears.

After about 200 metres, the bird was still following me, so I headed for the shore. No birds except seagulls there right? Wrong. The maniac bird followed me and dived at my face. I hit the ground with a thud – splattering sand over the towel of strangers who started to protest until they saw the bird grab my hair in its talons and keep swooping.

One of the women wordlessly passed me a Frisbee, which I held over my head like a satchel in the rain. I sought the safety of the water. Not planning to swim in deep, I hadn’t brought bathers. No matter. I splashed in as fast as I could and ducked, holding my breath for as long as possible. I came up for air about 20 seconds later and the magpie was nowhere to be seen.

Remembering that mum was due home soon, I ran along the beach – the bird had chased me a decent 500m - and gave back the scratched Frisbee. I kept on until I saw a familiar landmark. I was crying the whole time. Big, racking sobs of terror. Mum found me sopping wet in my bed and comforted me, but supposed that I needed a big shock like that to stop me from repeating such an experiment. That was the last time I went to the beach without a Frisbee (and permission.)