Neil Healdsburg — 1972 Heaven Can Wait

Neil opens his eyes. He is enclosed by whiteness. The edges of the world are fuzzy. Perhaps this is heaven, he thinks. Not my heaven, though…I miss the green and trees… the dank smell of mushrooms, the bitter freshness of pine and Huck…

A sharp rap makes Neil turn. His face throbs, sharp as a knife, bitter as loss. This is no one’s heaven. But in spite of burning fire that trails down his cheek, he is happy to see Huck’s razor-black beak tapping against his window, happy to see the soft green world through his cloudy window, happy to be alive.

Neil is in the hospital for three days. Huck remains outside his window pecking at the transparent barrier. The constant tapping is an auditory caress.

Alma visits, her face swollen with tears, puffy with resentment.