The doorbell rang. Floofy started squawking.

Of course, right when I'm trying to get the bird back in his cage, thought Mia. "I'll be there in a second!" Aunt Margarey must be back. Mia would rather stay here and take care of Floofy some more than sit at home doing nothing until it was time to pick her brother up from school.

She opened the door. It was her brother, sweating up a storm.

"Billy? What are you doing here?"

Bill stared at her. He was about half her height and had about half a brain for how well he listened. His grin drooped.

"It's not a hard question. You're supposed to be at school."

He shrugged his shoulders. "They had us all get up and go outside, then they wouldn't let us go back in. I don't think it was a fire drill. The principal looked sad. I wanted to know why, but he said I had to go home."

It probably wasn't anything major. "Come inside. You look like you're melting out there."

"Mmm-hmm." Bill nodded his head, spraying some sweat on Mia and the clean floor. "I walked all the way here! I feel like Dad when he-- ooh! Floofy!" Bill ran at the cage with his little legs.

"Take off your shoes first. You know Marge doesn't like her floor getting all dirty."

Bill stopped, flung his shoes at the open door, and walked the rest of the way to the cage. If Mia hadn't make him stop, he would have ran right into it.

Sticking his arm over his head, he started undoing the latch.

"No, Billy; I just got him back in there."

"Can't I play with him for a minute?"

"Okay, fine." Convincing Billy otherwise would take that minute at best.

"Yay!" After failing with the lock enough times, he brought over and jumped onto a chair. Floofy kept his eyes on Billy and chirped. The bird's orange cheeks and yellow face seemed to brighten whenever Billy was near, but his lowered crest was certain. They liked each other, even if they barely knew each other. The cage door opened, silent as always, and Floofy flew out to Billy's shoulder.

"I'm going to get some water," said Mia. She went into the kitchen, grabbed a cup, and turned on the sink. The hissing of the faucet couldn't drown out Floofy's flapping. Bill could be trusted here unsupervised for a few seconds, right?

Mia turned off the faucet and took a sip. Margarey would be home any minute. She wouldn't be happy about Bill being here, but she would understand he had nowhere else to go right now; the handful of blocks from school to here wasn't a problem for the child, but the two miles from here to home would be a bit much--

"Ahh!" shouted Billy. Then, something fell, and Floofy gave a loud squawk that likely made Bill's ears ring. A couple of seconds was indeed too much time to leave the both of them alone.

Mia set the cup down, spilling some water over the edge, and ran into the living room. Bill and the chair were on the floor, and his face was scrunched and reddening.

"Don't cry." Mia pulled Billy up to his feet. "Are you okay?"

His was straining to hold in tears. "I'm okay," he stammered, "but--"

Mia put the chair back where it belonged. "This is why you need to be more careful! It's easy to get hurt if you aren't paying attention." She glanced at the cage, then at Billy. Other than his muffled whimpering, it was silent, too silent for a cockatiel's room.

"Bill."

He looked up, knowing what her tone of voice meant.

"Where's Floofy?"

Bill hesitated, then pointed at the door.

Floofy stood on the sidewalk and croaked in acknowledgment. He tilted his head.

Mia looked back at her brother. "How many times have Mom and Dad told you to close the door when you go inside someone's house?"

"I'm sorry; I forgot..." He was good at forgetting. Hopefully, today would teach him not to.

Mia exhaled, taking away the hardness of her voice. "You can sit down on the couch if you want, but I need to you to stay quiet. If Floofy gets scared off, we might never see him again."

"Okay," he whispered. Billy's face was as red as a tomato. She shouldn't be hard on him; when she was a kid, she didn't learn not to dance with glass in her hand until the day she tripped -- but in that case, she had broken a cup, not let a pet loose.

She walked toward Floofy, crouching down when she reached the middle of the doorway. "Here, here," she whistled, even though the bird wasn't a dog. "Come to Mia!"

A warm breeze blew at Mia. The cockatiel cocked his head. His bright cheeks said he was just playing, but those dark, opaque eyes and forward-curled crest showed worry. Mia extended her arm, keeping it toward the ground so Floofy could step up. "Marge will be home soon. She has lots of good food and fun toys waiting for you." She whistled again. "Come here!" She stepped forward, and kicked the edge of the sidewalk tile.

Floofy took flight.

"Floofy!" Mia ran and put her hands out above her, grasping with too-short arms. "Floofy!" How could something so small be so fast? She kept running, but had to stop at the street crossing unless she wanted to be flattened by traffic. "Floofy! Floofy! Come back! Floofy!"

Mia dropped her arms and forced her face to stay together. Floofy was gone, and Aunt Margarey would be home any minute!

She blinked. Everything would be fine. She would think of something. She trotted back inside through the still-open side door, shut it, and turned around.

Billy was busy climbing into the bird cage, not aware that his head would never fit through the opening.

"Billy!" Now Mia had less time to figure out what to do, having to spend some on chiding her brother. "What in the world are you... doing..."

His too-large head cleared the cage door. One of his hands was inside the cage too. His clothes were baggy, like each piece was a few sizes too big -- especially his socks, which were hanging on by his front toes. Wait, front toes?

His hair turned gray, and it became denser or thicker; Mia couldn't tell which. Meanwhile, more hair -- no, feathers -- sprouted from every patch of visible skin.

Bill retracted his head inside the shirt. His socks and shorts fell to the ground, and no trace of him could be seen other than the active lump inside the shirt, skittering about, fluid, rustling, poking at the cloth above.

Heat drained from Mia's face while she watched. Her strength flowed out of her and into the floor. Trying to keep her heavy arms afloat, she pulled the shirt out of the cage. It writhed and sloshed around in her hands like living jelly.

She shuffled the shirt, tipped it over so the larger, bottom hole was on top, and guided Billy to the surface. A bird's head poked out, then the rest of its body.

Billy flew into the cage, leaving his shirt to fall out of Mia's hands and onto the floor. His face had color, but the rest of him was white and gray. A cockatiel.

Mia had to keep cool, approach the next few minutes with a stable mind. "Billy." Her voice was shaky. "How did you..."

He whistled, sounding off-tone. Then, he opened his beak as far as it could go and shook his head left and right. He couldn't speak back.

"Did you... do that? By yourself?"

Bill shook his head up and down. His crest flapped loosely.

Eye contact was creepy. Mia's brother now had the same unrevealing eyes and permanent grin as Floofy did -- and cheeks! "Have you done that before?"

He nodded.

"Do Mom and Dad know about this?"

He shook his head the other way.

A red car drove past the windows of the house, slowing down before entering the driveway. Marge was here.

Mia shifted the cage back into place. "I don't have time. I don't know how you... did that... but I'm assuming you'll be fine taking Floofy's place for a bit since you, uh, became him?" All birds of the same species looked the same to her, though someone more well-versed in bird lore could probably spot a dozen differences between Bill and Floofy right away.

He nodded his approval.

She folded Billy's clothes, and, because she didn't have a sweatshirt on to stuff them in, hid them under the doormat, brushed herself off, and ran a hand through her hair. "Stay put. I'm going to rescue him." She stuck her lips up to the cage bars. "Come here. You make a lot of trouble, but I'll always love you, no matter what." She kissed his beak.

Mia heard footsteps, coming closer. "Act natural," she whispered, though if Billy had turned into animals before, that would be obvious.

The door opened. It was Marge, wearing her poofy pink coat despite the weather outside. Her sunglasses protected her eyes from being seen by others, but did not protect them from her curly hair. "Oh, hello there, my sweeties!" She ran to Mia and kissed her on the cheek, then blew another toward "Floofy". "How was Floofers?"

Mia wiped her cheek on her arm. "Full of energy, like always. I don't think he'll ever get tired of seeing himself in the mirror." She took a quick glance at the cage. Billy was staring at her, frozen on a perch. "He's a bit tired. I took him out of the cage after I got here, and he was flying around everywhere! Other than when he wanted to eat, I was only able to get him back inside a few minutes ago." Not a lie, but it would explain why her bird would be acting strange. "I think he thought he was a squirrel," she chuckled.

"Oh, you know he gets like that sometimes," Margarey said.

"I can't stay; I need to get going right away." Mia checked her pocket for her wallet and keys, the only possessions she had brought with her. She backed toward the door.

"Aww, can't you stay and chat for a minute?"

"Billy is getting out of school early today for some reason. I need to pick him up before the school sends him to their daycare thing and charges us for it. Bye, Margarey!" She waved at her aunt and her brother, then bolted out the door, unready to rescue a pet bird.

---

Billy looked around in his cage. While he could see everything except his back, only things right in front of him looked real and not flat.

The cage was about the size of his room at home, a box he could only take a dozen or so steps before hitting a wall. Being able to fly upwards only made it smaller since he now had another place he could not go.

Floofy's room was a mess. Toys were left out on the walls, but there was nowhere to put them away. The bird couldn't even go out to use the bathroom, as the nasty newspaper below showed; Bill was glad he couldn't smell it. Floofy didn't have a big sister or bird parents to remind him about cleaning his room. And, as far as Billy knew, Aunt Marge couldn't speak Bird. Maybe she did.

"How was your day, Floofers? I heard you're all pooped out."

What was he supposed to say back? "Raawk!" he yelled, feeling his crest move like hair in the wind, except there was no hair or wind. Was that good enough? He wasn't allowed here often, so not only was he pretending to be animal he wasn't used to, but he also had to pretend to be someone else. Mia always said Floofy was crazy and outgoing, so Bill tilted his head and spread his wings out. His crest moved again.

Marge stepped back. "Alright, I'll leave you alone." She undid her coat. "Usually, you perk up when I say her name. You must really be tired then."

Billy continued checking out the cage. There were two levels of perches. He was on the bottom one. He tightened his feet's grip, curling them as much as he could, but he couldn't make his front toes reach his back toes.

That was probably for the best. Most of the time, he chose four-legged forms whenever he turned into an animal. Now, along with having only two legs, his wings weren't suited to breaking a fall. They were made for flying, but he had little practice with it. Turning into a dog or cat and playing with the pets of the neighborhood was more fun.

Back to the cage. He hadn't gotten a good look at all the goodies. There were small ropes, braided ropes, frayed ropes. Ropes that carried mirrors. Ropes that tied all six food bowls to the cage, each of which seemed to have a different meal. One had nothing but seed, and another was filled with carrots and funny-looking green food. Eew. Who would want to eat vegetables?

No two things had the same color. The perches were made of different types of wood, and each piece of plastic was pink, yellow, bright red, sky blue, or any of the other colors of the rainbow. Even the mirrors couldn't agree on how they wanted to make reflections.

Billy looked at himself in the closest mirror. He was just a cockatiel, nothing special. His crest was slanted like a ramp. According to Mia, Floofy loved staring at himself. Billy couldn't see why. Compared to everything else in the cage, he was just... bland, like the toys and dishes had stolen his colors. They were kind enough to leave his face alone, though -- his cheeks were cute. But not as cute as any cat he had been.

There was one more thing he didn't notice before -- a bell, hanging by the veggie food dish. He didn't have hands to ring the bell with, and he might lose his balance if he jiggled it with one of his legs. Billy never liked hitting stuff with his head, even as a dog. He could hurt his brain and make thinking take longer. Then, Mia would be right about him never listening.

He used his big beak. The bell jingled for a second before stopping. He rang it some more, hitting it with his beak whenever it came by, like he was on a swing and Mia was helping him get higher and higher.

Marge walked into the room. Bill didn't know she had left and was done putting her coat away. "What's gotten into you, bird?" she asked.

Billy flinched, but she didn't lash out. She was simply asking him a question -- and didn't expect an answer, at that! He had never seen her like this before. Whenever he had done something wrong around Aunt Margarey, she had always yelled at him. Was this how she was normally, or was the way she normally treated him normal?

"You silly thing. Look! Your food's all filled, and by the looks of it, you haven't touched any of it." So that bell was a food bell then.

She was smiling, but Billy didn't know how long it would last. It would be best to make sure she stayed happy. Maybe she would go away if she saw him eating.

He walked over to a dish that was full of corn flakes and lowered his beak into it. What if he fell over while eating? He tightened his grip on the perch. If he didn't look down, he would be okay. He grabbed a flake with his beak and bit it into a more manageable chunk. His beak was like two teeth, so he had to keep sliding the flake out of his mouth to 'chew'. Now this was a fun way to eat.

---

As Mia walked into the pet store, gazing at the maze of pawprints painted on the floor, she realized she was a little over her head. She had never been here before. About once in a blue moon, she had seen people 'walk' their birds with harnesses, but Floofy had never worn one before. She didn't even know how they were put on; did the owner put it on the bird, or did the bird put it on themselves? The only thing she was certain of was that Floofy wouldn't like anything being put on him, especially if he was scared in the middle of nowhere.

Shouldn't think about that. I'll find him. I have to. Yes, Floofy had the potential to fly further away or be taken by someone else the more time she spent not finding him, but she needed the right equipment first. The cockatiel was too big to keep enclosed in her hands, and even if he was, her palms wouldn't survive a pecking.

"Hello there! Need help finding anything?" One of the wandering staff members had found her.

"Could you show me where the bird supplies are, please?" It was best not to be specific in case he started asking her questions that made her seem like she didn't know what she was doing -- which was true, but she didn't have time to waste listening to explanations.

The guide led her to the left side of the store. Here, the pawprints leading down every aisle turned to talons. At any other time, it would have been a neat effect, but right now it was unnerving, chilling her. It reminded her of Bill's... technique. How long had he been able to turn into animals? How did he do it? Could she learn to do it as well? Actually, if it made her act more like him, maybe not.

The guide stopped. "Need any more help?"

"No, thanks; I've got it from here."

"If you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask." He went to sneak up on another unsuspecting customer.

There were several aisles here but no signs hanging above saying what was in each. She picked the farthest aisle and went down.

The talon pattern continued. The shelves were stocked with more types of cages than she thought existed. Round and cubic. Yellow cages. Black cages. Cages that were small. Cages that had no way of fitting through the store's doors. Cages that could be carried, called 'carriers'. And, the carriers came in their own variety of shapes, sizes, materials, and patterns. The only things that weren't in the aisle were bird houses.

A family appeared at the other end of the aisle, so Mia turned around and went down the next.

This aisle held food. There was so much that she could smell it through the packaging.

Next aisle. This place wasn't a corner store, so why weren't there maps or markers? Pet people would know their way around the store like they knew the color of their room, but it didn't make sense to leave new people like her in the dark. It's like the store was made for birds, who could just fly above and see where things were.

After peeking and passing by toys, cleaning supplies, and even little costumes for birds, she ran out of bird-related aisles. She turned around and went down the one she saw the costumes in. If it was for wearable things, the harness she was looking for might be at the other end.

Nope. Maybe by the carriers? They were for moving birds around.

"Can I help you today, ma'am?" Another worker had found her. Are they trained to sniff people out?

"Sure," she sighed. She did need the help. And, maybe, there were gotchas she wasn't aware of. "I'm looking for a harness for a family member's cockatiel. However, her bird has never used one before, so I'm unsure if there is anything special I should be looking for."

He looked like he was about to laugh.

---

Billy nibbled on a toy. He didn't know if it had a name. It was like a piece of rope, but there were a bunch of plastic beads in it. Sometimes he could get a grip on a bead with his beak, but he so far hadn't been able to pull one off. It was a good challenge, and, unlike an actual bird, he knew what to do if he swallowed one on accident and started choking.

If he didn't like playing with the toys, there would be nothing to do other than eat, which he had already done, sleep, which he didn't want to do in case Mia came back, and go out, which he didn't know how to ask for.

Aunt Margarey was busy reading the newspaper on the couch. Because Billy was so small, it was so far away, but he could read the words clearly. However, all he could see from the way she was sitting was boring job openings. Bill was too young to get a job, but if had to have one, he wanted to be an animal actor. He would be the star of many movies, and everyone would want him since he could listen to what the directors wanted him to do.

Whack!

Billy's crest went straight up, and he zoomed to the other end of the cage, feathers almost flapping against the wall. It's okay, he told himself. It's just something falling.

Margarey set down the newspaper and got up. She groaned while she walked out of the room. She and Bill hadn't talked much since he had eaten, but she was his only companion right now. He didn't want her to leave. He croaked before he could stop himself. Mia sometimes told him he had no control; she was right.

"You know," she said, "that shelf falls like every other day." She came closer to shouting the farther she was. "Go lie down." He tried to.

A feather on Billy's back felt out of place. It was kind of like an itch; it wasn't like fur tangling together and getting tugged. He stretched out his wings, bending them until they hurt, but the spot was too high up. Bill never knew how similar wings were to hands. They were only a little less clumsy than flippers, but there was part of a thumb and two fingers in each. It made sense; whenever he went to the zoo to see the bats, he could see little lines going across their wings, and bats could fly as well as anything. He moved his mini-thumbs around, watching a little bit of his wings open and close. It was weird, but it wasn't any more weird than having feet for hands.

His leg couldn't reach the spot either, but standing on one leg was now easier than before. That left only his beak. Yuck, touching himself with his mouth! Oh well. He'd be fine.

Marge came back. "I need to get that fixed," she said. She went back to reading.

Bill's back annoyed him again. He backed up to the nearest piece of rope and rubbed against it, but he couldn't straighten his back out, so he had to rub front-to-back instead of up-and-down. Doing so made the itch worse. He tried reaching with his wings again, but they were still a hair too short. Now he knew why birds were always yelling and screaming. Being teased with thumbs and fingers that couldn't grab anything would drive anyone crazy.

He really would have to use his beak. When was the last time the rope he had rubbed himself with -- or the cage -- been washed? There could be germs everywhere. They were so dangerous that they could take over a dropped piece of food in five seconds. Maybe he would be okay if he spat afterwards. Without teeth, germs couldn't hide in the space between them and make him sick later.

Billy craned his neck, turned his head, and nestled his beak in his feathers, keeping his tongue away. Careful to not hurt himself, he picked up the itchy feather with the least amount of force possible and put it back in place so it was facing the right way.

Fixing the feather was oddly relaxing. It was like cleaning his room, minus the being-told-to-do-it part. No, it was more like taking a bath. He felt cleaner, even though his beak was now coated in who-knew-what.

Much better. He spat and flew by the toys. There was one he didn't see before that looked like a bunch of keychain rings that had been left alone and got inside each other when nobody was looking. Bill pulled the puzzle out and started working on it. The goal was to get all of the pieces apart even though it looked like it couldn't be done.

Before he could get a single piece out, his wing started almost-itching, then the top of his leg. Maybe Floofy didn't look at himself in the mirror all the time because he liked how he looked but because his feathers kept needing to be checked.

---

Mia jogged down the street toward her house. It turned out she was completely wrong about the harness. Even if she forced it on Floofy, who had known her for years, she wouldn't have been able to go anywhere. In hindsight, it was obvious. She prided herself on thinking before acting, so why was she like this now?

She had everything under control, but she couldn't convince herself. She had let Floofy out in the first place by not looking after her brother well enough, and she had been acting on halves of ideas since. To give up would mean trouble in the family, though. It would also mean making Billy's mysterious ability known. He and she would never be left alone about it.

If she was a bird, she would have flown to a wide open park with lots of grass, water, and trees. Floofers would stand out since cockatiels weren't native here, and if there were other escaped cockatiels out and about, she just had to pick out the one that responded to 'Floofy' the most. However, her parents would be home soon, and they couldn't be left worrying about where their children were. That didn't mean she couldn't scan the streets for Floofy on the way.

Mia had never realized how little plantlife there was on the city streets. Forests of gray buildings lined the gray sidewalks. There weren't even front lawns in front of most houses! She swore their absence was the exception, not the rule. Now her memory was failing.

With wide and unblinking eyes, she watched roofs and windows for Floofy's yellow-and-orange face. Hopefully, he didn't get lost somewhere dark during his flight out of the house, or worse, into someone else's home.

Mia smacked into something soft and hit the ground. Her head hurt.

"Watch where you're going, dummy!" She was too busy shutting her eyes against the pain to see who she ran into.

"Sorry!" Was her voice shaky? "I wasn't looking." Mia pushed herself up with one hand and held her head with the other.

"Yeah, I can see that. Parents today don't know how to raise their kids..."

Mia rested against a sign pole and waited for her head to clear. What she would have given to turn into a little critter and run away! That way, she wouldn't be ruining other people's day because of her delusion that she could undo what she had done. It was all going to collapse, and she was on her way to adding another ball to juggle.

Mia continued on, keeping her eyes ahead of her instead of in front of her.

---

Margarey was asleep on the couch, using the newspaper as a blanket. Billy was moving his feathers around. He had put the puzzle away earlier after getting stuck.

He wanted to be free from the cage, but it wasn't safe to sneak out as a bug. Marge didn't snore, and he didn't know how soundly she slept. Mia would know, but in order to ask her, he would need to risk his aunt waking up and finding the cage empty.

Billy stopped what he was doing. He was just wasting time before he got himself and Mia into trouble. Well, he was going to get into trouble anyway. Mia would give him the lesson of his life when she came back. If she came back. She spent a lot of time with that bird, and she would anything to get Floofy back. She could be in danger, but whatever she was doing, it would only work if he kept pretending everything was okay.

He was tired. He didn't want to do anything. Not even fixing his feathers made him happy.

He stared at the door. Sometimes, when he looked at the same thing for a long time, everything seemed to get darker. The back of the cage was already going away, and the part of the door that popped out was almost flat. Nothing felt real, like he was about to wake up from a dream.

---

Mia stood in her kitchen. Her shoes were on, the door was wide open, and her keys were still in the lock. She didn't expect to be here more than a minute.

Bill and I went to the park, she wrote on a piece of paper towel with a marker. We'll be home soon. They would know by her handwriting who 'I' referred to.

After leaving her wallet on the table, she taped the note to the door, re-locked the door, and went back outside. If -- when -- she found Floofy, how would she even coax him to come with her? The best option would have been to get a carrier, but she didn't have enough money for one, and, just like a harness, it required the bird to be comfortable with it beforehand.

Chirp, chirp. Some birds flew overhead. A glance showed that none of them was a cockatiel. Chirp, chirp, they continued, speaking in their own language.

Mia put her keys back in her pocket.

Chirp. Shouldn't the noise be getting quieter the farther away the birds flew?

Mia stood in place. Chirp! It came from the backyard, not the sky. It sounded like Floofy, but when trying to find something -- or someone -- anything could be what it was wished it to be.

She walked into the backyard, stalking on her toes so the crunch of grass wouldn't scare the bird away. Regardless of if she was imagining it, checking was always a good idea.

It spoke again, this time coming from behind Mia and to the left. She turned her head.

"Floofy!" she shouted under her breath. He was standing outside the kitchen window! "How did you get here?" She wanted to run up to him and pick him up in her palm, pet him, hug him, but she also didn't want to scare him away.

Floofy looked up at her. His crest was lying down, curling at the end like the hairdo of someone who just woke up. Mia squatted down and waddled up to him with her arm out and hovering above the ground. Floofy came closer and walked onto her hand. Mia's insides were warm and fluttering.

Floofy became quieter and stuffed his beak in his back. Poor thing; he looked so tired! Even the way he looked around was void of energy. Mia stood up, balancing Floofy in the palm of her hand. "What to come up to my shoulder?" she asked, keeping her voice high-pitched.

He climbed from her hand up her arm, poking her skin with his talons, and stopped on her shoulder.

This would be a fun walk. All she had to do was keep the bird on her shoulder for blocks and blocks, making sure he didn't go to sleep and fall off. On top of that, she couldn't run or jog, and she would need to take side streets so there would be less drivers to honk their horns and spook him...

The first thing she would do once she got to Margarey's house would be getting Billy to show her how he turned into animals. If she ever needed to rescue a pet again in the future, it would be very useful.

---

Cats and dogs had fun lives. Birds did not. If they were the smartest of all pets, they must lose their minds quickly in order to forget how to be bored.

Billy was pacing back-and-forth on a perch when he saw his sister come by the window. She was back! And, she had Floofy with her! She did it! He could leave! Except, Marge had woken up a few minutes ago and was currently doing something in another room of the house.

Floofy noticed him and stared. Mia looked worried, and her hair looked like a bird's next. Did Floofy think it was one?

Mia pointed at the bottom of the window.

Billy nodded at her. He flew over to the cage door, pulled the latch pin out, and pushed the door open. As it fell down, he held onto one of its bars with his talons and pulled upwards so it didn't slam and make noise. He flew onto the floor.

His time as a bird was over. It would be fun to stay as one somewhere other than here, but he couldn't leave until he got the window open, which required him to be a human.

Billy grew. Unlike growing by getting older, which made his bones hurt, getting bigger or smaller by turning into an animal never caused pain. As the room shrunk -- making everything easier to reach, such as the window -- his body tingled, like whenever he tried to stay awake while falling asleep. His vision changed too, but he was getting sick to his stomach watching the room become two due to his eyes moving back to the front of his head, so he closed them until they were done moving.

The feeling of weight, of being pulled down, returned as his legs and arms became thicker and longer. His feathers went back into his skin, leaving him cold. With his back aching, now from the way he was standing instead of itchy feathers, he stood up straight, and his torso flattened like a pancake. It was nice being able to move his back again.

Mia looked away and covered Floofy's eyes. What was wrong? Billy looked down. Oh, right, he was naked. It was silly that animals could be naked all the time but people couldn't. Bill walked over to the welcome mat Mia had put his clothes under, pulled them out, and dressed himself. Mia peeked, and, seeing it was okay to look now, let Floofy see too.

Bill went up to the window and cracked it open. It creaked, so he took his time in pushing it up the rest of the way. Thankfully, Floofy wasn't in the mood for making noise. In fact, he was using his feathers as a pillow to try to go to sleep.

"Screen, too," Mia whispered.

He couldn't get the screen out. One side popped out, but the top and bottom were on a rail. There was a tab on the other side, though. Billy pointed at it, and Mia pulled the screen out and rested it against the outside wall of the house.

"Go by him," Mia whispered to Floofy. She looked at Billy. "Stick your arm out. He likes that." The way she talked was choppy, like she could only think of the words she wanted to say one at a time.

Billy put his arm out the window, and, with a tap from Mia, Floofers began walking. The bird looked so tired from his big day. There was no spring in his step. Bill guided him to the cage and closed it.

Should he climb through the window, or try to sneak out the side door? The door made a lot of noise when it opened, so he--

He heard Marge walking his way. His heart jumped. "She's coming," he whispered to Mia. "What do I do?" Margarey wouldn't be the nice lady she was when she thought he was her pet.

"Come through here." She sprinted around the house to the front door.

There was a knock, and Billy heard his aunt walk the other way. "I'm coming!" The floor was about as loud as her voice. The front door, down the hall, opened. "Oh, hi Mia! You're the last person I expected to be here."

"I felt like going on a run. Your house was on the way, so I decided to stop by."

Billy leaped up. His belly rested on a thin windowsill that would cut into him if he was any heavier. He could get through. Just needed to push...

He fell forward, onto the screen. He kept his mouth shut, but the shouting his legs made from smacking the windowframe couldn't be kept quiet.

Mia's eyebrows were touching her hair. She looked like she had been touched by a ghost. She pointed at him, through him, then poked forward, like she was fighting off the ghost. No, she was telling him to run! Only when he pulled his leg up did he realize he had ripped a hole in the screen.

"What was that?" Margarey asked.

Mia forced a laugh while Billy hid behind the corner of the house. He sat down and hugged his legs. "You wouldn't believe it. A bird just flew into the window and knocked the screen out!"

"Here, let me see."

"I can go get it for you."

"No, I'll look for myself."

Billy inched away as the voices came closer. Turning into said bird would be perfect right now, but then Mia would have to explain why a little kid's clothing was on the sidewalk. Please don't come any closer...

"How in the world..." Margarey slapped her legs. "It's even ripped! How? Look at it! It's huge! Like that time some idiot kid decided to chuck a basketball at my window. Oh, whatever. I'll fix it tomorrow. Though with my luck, every insect ever would crawl inside during the night."

"That's crazy." Mia's voice sounded dead, missing emotion. "Well, uh, I'm going to get going."

"You're always doing something. Can't you stay for a few minutes?"

"I don't want to lose my momentum."

"Okay, fine." Margarey sighed. "Be off then."

"Bye!" Mia jogged around the corner. Billy could hear both his and her hearts beating.

"Please, please please please listen next time..." Sweat soaked through her shirt.

"I'll be more careful. I was stuck in that little cage the whole time. It wasn't fun. I don't want to be in one ever again."

"Let's just... let's just go home. I'm sorry. I should have kept an eye on Floofy." She picked him up and hugged him. Why was she saying sorry right after telling him it was his fault? She never did that.

Mia led him around the block so their aunt wouldn't be able to see him. "Mom and Dad are home, right?" Billy asked. "What are we going to tell them?"

"I... Let's just say I took you to the park. Simple. Hey, how did you... uh..."

"How did I what?"

"Never mind. I'll ask about it later."

Nothing else was said the rest of the way home.